Claim

by Janet Nissenson

  And she and Ian were both delighted to see Rebecca in attendance this evening with a new boyfriend in tow. Upon receiving the invitation to tonight’s party, she’d confided to Ian that she had finally ended things with her longtime lover, refusing to listen to his protests or one more empty promise about their future together. Rebecca was remaining firm in her resolve to move on, to carve out a life for herself, and she had a very good feeling about the man she was currently dating.

  “Another example, darling,” Ian murmured to Tessa as Rebecca and her escort took their seats at the dinner table, “of the stars taking awhile to properly align. Just like it was with you and I. I only hope Rebecca sticks to her guns this time and doesn’t go running back to that old bastard she’s wasted so much of her life on. Who knows - maybe seeing how happy you and I are has inspired her to find that for herself. Though, of course, it’s impossible for anyone to be as happy as I’ve been these past ten months.”

  Tessa cupped his cheek in her hand, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” she whispered. “Because the best is still to come.”

  He captured her hand in his, holding it in place against his cheek, his hazel eyes nearly smoldering in reaction at her fervently murmured words. “You took the words right out of my mouth, darling,” he whispered back.

  “If you two are going to make out again, can you at least wait until after dinner? I’m starving over here,” joked Matthew.

  His humor was greeted with laughter from the entire room, the engaged couple included, and Ian somewhat reluctantly pulled out Tessa’s chair for her as the waiters began to bring out the first course.

  It was another wonderful evening, this one attended by newer but no less treasured friends, and Ian was pleased to see how much Tessa was enjoying herself. She definitely felt more at ease with this group, most of whom she’d known for some time now, and Ian forced himself not to think about the possibility that one day they might have to leave all of these friends behind. During this most recent visit to Italy and England, his father had hinted that he was starting to think more and more seriously about retiring. Hugh, of course, was next in line to serve as co-CEO alongside their Uncle Richard, but such a move would open up his very prestigious position as the Regional Director of the European division - a position that Ian would be expected to take on.

  He had never discussed the possibility of moving to England with Tessa, unwilling to give her any additional reason to fret or worry or, worse, fall into depression. She’d been doing very well in regards to the latter for months now, though he admittedly kept a close eye on her moods to make sure she was happy and content.

  Since returning from England, their lives had been hectic, busy, filled with business travel, social engagements, and beginning the laborious process of planning their wedding. Tessa was also occupied with her online college classes, and helping him with projects at work. He had rather intentionally been keeping her as busy as possible, worried that she might feel depressed during the day when he was at the office. But thus far his worries had been for naught, for Tessa seemed as happy and cheerful and loving as she always did.

  Eventually, he would need to make some difficult decisions about their future, would have to find a way to ease her into the idea about moving to England permanently. But, for now, so long as she was content and happy and well, Ian planned to let sleeping dogs lie. There would be time enough to awaken them in the months and hopefully years to come.

  Chapter Four

  November – Chicago

  “As much as I’m not looking forward to the day ahead of us, suddenly it just became a hell of a lot better.”

  Tessa smirked knowingly at her handsome fiancé, his intensely hazel gaze raking over her body as she finished applying her makeup. She was still in her lingerie, and from the smoldering expression on Ian’s face, it was quite clear that he’d prefer her to remain that way if it was up to him.

  “Like what you see, then?” she teased him lightly, carefully applying a thin line of eyeliner beneath her lashes.

  Ian walked up behind her, his hands bracketing her hips as he caught her gaze in the bathroom mirror. “Like,” he growled, “is far too tame of a word to describe what I’m feeling right now, darling.”

  She wiggled her silk clad buttocks against his crotch, not in the least surprised to find that he was already hard for her. “Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t argue with you about being a few minutes late for the meeting. However, given everything we have to get through today…”

  He sighed, moving the strap of her bra aside so he could kiss her bare shoulder. “Don’t remind me, love. This is going to be the meeting from hell.”

  Ian had been aware for some months now that operations at the big downtown hotel in Chicago had been on a gradual decline. Room occupancy rates were down, employee turnover was high, and the hotel had been receiving a number of negative reviews on travel websites. He’d sent other management teams out here - at least three different ones over the past year - but none of them had been able to achieve any real or lasting results. He hadn’t been due to visit this particular hotel until next spring, but, given the rather dire circumstances, he had re-organized his schedule so that he could put a stop to whatever was causing all the problems - not that he didn’t already have a very good idea what that was.

  The manager of the Chicago hotel - a smug, manipulative bastard by the name of Martin Halloran - was in his early fifties, and had been employed by the Gregson Group for nearly three decades. His grandfather and Ian’s paternal grandfather - the founder of the company - had been the best of friends for the majority of their lives, and when Martin had graduated from university, a position had been found for him with the Gregson Group. Because of his close connection with the family, Martin practically considered himself one of them, and as such, had been taking advantage of the situation for years now. Unfortunately, his nose for business was sorely lacking, and his job performance had always been lackluster. He’d been moved around from one department to another at the corporate headquarters in London before being shipped off to America a few years ago. But the move hadn’t made a damned bit of difference in his ability to get the job done, and now the unenviable task had fallen to Ian to lay down the law to him. And knowing exactly how much of a calculating schemer Martin could be, Ian was more or less preparing himself for battle.

  Reluctantly, he returned the strap of Tessa’s pale pink bra to its original position, and took a step or two away from her. She was far, far too tempting a sight in the lacy demi-bra that pushed her generous breasts up to eye-popping proportions, as well as the matching pair of silk and laced trimmed panties. The ultra-sheer stockings she’d already donned were of a very pale gray, and Ian couldn’t resist running his hand along the side of her leg.

  “Every time I’m tempted to pound that arsehole Martin’s face into the table today, I’ll think about the way you look right now,” he breathed huskily in her ear. “That image should either calm me down or turn me on. Either way, it should save him a few bruises and scars.”

  Tessa laughed as she began to dress. “You know it would never come to that,” she scolded gently. “You’re far too much in control of your emotions to ever lose your temper that way.”

  Ian scowled. “Under most any other circumstances I’d agree with you. However, Martin has the ability to get under my skin like few people ever do. But no matter how much he tries to wheedle and whine today, or how often he tries to bring up the fact that our grandfathers were like brothers, he has quite a few matters to answer for. And - Christ, what exactly are you wearing anyway?”

  She smiled knowingly as she smoothed down the tailored pencil skirt of gray pinstriped wool before buttoning up the short, fitted suit jacket over a silky pink camisole. The suit - in theory - was supposed to look both businesslike and elegant, meant to resemble one that a man might wear. But the narrow cut of the skirt, coupled with the close fit of the jacket, gav
e the ensemble a decidedly provocative look instead, emphasizing the curve of her hips, the roundness of her ass, and the lush fullness of her breasts.

  She’d left her hair down today, the long blonde curls flowing over her shoulders and more than halfway down her back. Her makeup was minimal, and besides her engagement ring the only jewelry she wore was her Bulgari watch and pearl stud earrings. And as she stepped into a pair of gray leather pumps with a conservative heel, Ian thought that she looked both entirely professional and completely fuckable.

  “A new suit, of course,” she replied lightly. “You’re always prodding me to buy more clothes, and when I saw this at Barney’s last week I couldn’t resist it. You know I have a real weakness for pinstriped suits. Too bad,” she teased, tugging playfully on his dark blue silk tie, “that you left my favorite suit back home or we could have dressed alike today. But the one you’re wearing is a close second.”

  Ian’s suit was an impeccable dark gray, so dark that it almost looked black in a certain light. As usual, he wore a pristine white dress shirt with French cuffs, his cufflinks a gleaming silver set with a blue stone. He was clean shaven, his dark hair perfectly groomed, and Tessa’s knees went a little weak at the sight of such overwhelming male beauty.

  They had gathered up their laptop cases, and were about to exit the front door of the owner’s suite when Ian forestalled her.

  “Wait.”

  She arched a blonde brow inquisitively. “Are we forgetting something?”

  “Just this,” he rasped, pulling her into his embrace and kissing her with unabashed hunger.

  Tessa groaned beneath the forceful pressure of his lips, her laptop bag tumbling to the floor as she gripped his powerfully muscled forearms for balance. The kiss went on for long seconds, and she gave herself over willingly to his domination.

  When he finally lifted his head, it was to give her a chagrined look, his thumb rubbing something from the corner of her mouth.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “I’m afraid I’ve ruined your lipstick.”

  She laughed softly and caressed his cheek. “Silly man. Like I would care about anything after a kiss like that. And especially not about having my lipstick smeared.”

  She quickly reapplied the pale pink gloss as they took the elevator down to the floor where the administrative offices were located. She had read over all of the reports that had been compiled by the other management teams who’d visited previously, and was readying herself for a bumpy day ahead. Ian was going to have to really crack the whip throughout the day, and Tessa knew that some of his demands and conditions would be met with both resistance and grumbling.

  But none of the reports she’d read, or briefings she’d received from Ian, could have properly prepared her for the almost hostile reception she encountered from the administrative staff. It was clear that morale was a real problem, and the staff members she was obliged to interact with were less than respectful, some nearly defiant, and enlisting their cooperation was almost impossible at times. Tessa struggled to maintain her usual professional demeanor as she asked for the various reports and files that were needed in a calm, quiet voice. But when her requests were acted on far too slowly for her liking, she found herself switching to a much sterner, more demanding tone, and at one point she was astonished to realize that she was beginning to sound rather like her old boss, Mrs. Carrington - who’d once been christened with the very unflattering nickname of “The Dragon Lady”.

  However, the no-nonsense approach seemed to actually produce results, so Tessa stood firm in her resolve to stop being Ms. Nice Guy, and instead continued to imagine how the fearsome Mrs. C. would be handling this situation. Tessa smiled to herself as one of the office assistants practically jumped up from her chair when she asked if the copies for the next meeting were ready, thinking that she would really have to call Mrs. C. after this trip and confess that she’d been imitating her most of the afternoon.

  But the one staff member who continued to slyly defy Tessa and treat her in a less than respectful manner was Martin’s personal assistant - a very stylish, attractive brunette named Blaire. The other woman, who Tessa guessed was about eight years older than she was, hadn’t even attempted to hide her displeasure when Tessa had been introduced this morning as Mr. Gregson’s PA. And once Ian had closed himself up in a meeting with Martin and several of the other managers, Blaire had wasted little time in informing Tessa that she had always been the one to take care of Mr. Gregson’s needs during his previous visits, and that Tessa’s presence here really wasn’t necessary.

  Tessa, of course, had very clearly read between the lines, realizing that Blaire was none too subtly implying that she and Ian had been intimate during his previous trips. Tessa knew this was completely untrue, especially since Ian had barely spared the other woman a glance upon arriving this morning, and had incorrectly greeted her as Claire. Ian was always dead-set on acting like a complete professional whenever he visited one of his hotels on business, and the very last thing he would have considered would be to take someone as blatantly obvious as Blaire up on her poorly disguised offers of assistance.

  Tessa had been oh so dearly tempted to stick Blaire’s upturned little nose into that fact, but had restrained herself just in time. She and Ian continued to be firm in their resolve to act the part of business associates during these sorts of trips, and not mention the fact that they were engaged to be married.

  But when Blaire continued to make snide, cunning little comments about how hot Ian looked in his suit, or “confiding” in a too-loud voice to one of her co-workers that Mr. Gregson had a real “thing” for her, Tessa longed to shove her gorgeous, one-of-a-kind blue diamond engagement ring in the bitch’s face, and rather haughtily inform her that she was the woman Ian actually had a “thing” for.

  One of the tasks Ian had been encouraging her to handle more and more often during these hotel visits was to write down her own observations about the administrative staff, and where there might be need for improvement. Most of the time she’d had only very minor things to point out, since the staff members at each of the hotels she’d visited thus far were extremely well trained and took great pride in their jobs.

  But today it seemed she was filling page after page with notes about sloppy filing systems, untidy work spaces, sensitive information left sitting out in the open, and, of course, the poor attitudes of the staff. They were also extremely lax in their dress code, not a single one of them paying much heed to the requirements. One of the women was wearing casual sandals that might have been appropriate for the beach, but definitely not for this office, while the lone male on the admin staff was actually wearing jeans. Tessa made discreet notes about another woman whose makeup and jewelry needed to be toned way down, and yet another who was wearing a suit that was wrinkled, stained, and a couple of sizes too small for her.

  The biggest offender of the dress code, however, was most assuredly Blaire. And while her clothing looked expensive and well kept, the blouse was far too sheer and low-cut, the skirt several inches too short. She was wearing a pair of black Louboutin stilettos, the four inch heels too high to comply with what had been set down in the official corporate dress code, and her perfume was so strong Tessa had had to fight off the urge to gag several times today.

  With her carefully tousled dark brown waves, bright red lips, and long crimson nails, Blaire looked like she was all set for a night of clubbing and singles bar hopping, instead of working at her job as PA to the manager of a prestigious five star hotel. And that particular image was going to be yet one more thing that needed to be changed in a hurry around here, thought Tessa as she made page after page of detailed notes.

  The tense, stressful day was finally beginning to wind down, though for Ian and Tessa the drama would unfortunately continue, as they were scheduled to head off to dinner with the troublesome Martin and his wife. Tessa thought sourly that she would be very, very happy to see the last of Chicago - and in particular, this hotel - for quite s
ome time. She glanced through her checklist of the various reports and other items that she was responsible for collecting at each of the hotels, and grimaced to realize she was missing several thing - things that she was now going to have to ask Blaire to assemble for her.

  “What can I do for you now, Tessa?” asked Blaire in a falsely sweet voice as Tessa approached her desk.

  “I need copies of these reports and files,” stated Tessa in her best no-nonsense tone, holding out a neatly typed sheet of paper. “Actually, Andrew would have emailed this list to you over two weeks ago so that you could have had them waiting for me when I arrived.”

  Blaire gave an unconcerned little shrug. “Gee, guess I must have missed seeing that email. Or maybe I’ve just been extra busy these past couple of weeks. You know, making sure everything was just right for Mr. Gregson’s visit.”

  Tessa gave her a tight-lipped smile in reply. “Obviously you didn’t think of everything then, or these reports would have been ready. Mr. Gregson and I will be leaving here at ten a.m. tomorrow, so please be sure to have these available for us before then.”

  Blaire glared at her in annoyance. “I’m still not sure exactly why he needed to drag you along on this trip. I’ve always been more than capable of taking care of anything he needs.”

  Tessa’s smile deepened into one of sly innuendo, just about at the end of her rope with the nasty, cunning PA. “Well, maybe his needs have changed since the last time he visited. Why don’t you let me worry about what Mr. Gregson does and doesn’t need, so that all you have to do is get these items together for us?”

  Blaire nearly snatched the sheet of paper out of Tessa’s hands, and was about to deliver an undoubtedly sarcastic retort, when she glimpsed Tessa’s dazzling blue diamond engagement ring.