Lexie

by Kimberly Dean

  Yet Underhill was scowling so fiercely, jowls appeared on the sides of his face. “What’s the bottom line, Rowe?”

  As if they hadn’t been over this again and again. Cam planted himself in front of the man’s desk and made sure he had his attention. “Do something to excite your investors or start considering a buyout.”

  The scowl became even darker, and Underhill pushed himself to his feet. He stalked back to his spot by the window. He didn’t seem to be watching the people down at street level so much as measuring how far he was above them. “This has always been a family company. I don’t want that to change. My plan has always been to pass the business down to the kids.”

  “You just might have to give up that dream.”

  “It’s not a dream, damn it.” Underhill’s fist landed solidly against the floor-to-ceiling glass. “I will not have outsiders poking around, thinking my company is vulnerable.”

  “You are vulnerable, Julian. You wouldn’t have brought me in if you weren’t.” Cam pointed at the spreadsheets. “You’ve seen the numbers. If you tie your family to this company, it’s going to take them down with it.”

  “Not if we turn it around.” Underhill turned on his heel, and his blue eyes were icy. “I’m paying you good money, Rowe. I expected to see better results than this.”

  “You asked for the options, and I just gave them to you.” The only one left was bankruptcy.

  “Well, find another.”

  Cam’s eyes narrowed. It was the same tone the man had taken with Lexie yesterday, and he didn’t like it any more now than he had then.

  “Fine,” he growled as he headed for the door. Underhill wanted another way? He’d find another way.

  He walked out of the office and past Underhill’s secretary. The hallway was dotted with people, most of them gossiping about Lexie and not doing their work. One look at his face changed that. The crowd dispersed, but he took a shortcut through the main conference room anyway.

  Power plays didn’t sit well with him. Never had, never would.

  He flexed his fingers, feeling them itching to curl into fists. He’d lost his first job when he’d decked the sixteen-year-old grocery store manager who’d treated him that way. He’d jammed two knuckles and forfeited his last paycheck in the process, but he’d learned a lot.

  There was always some unethical, manipulative bastard who liked to lord it over the quiet, hardworking types. The only way to deal with them was to beat them at their own game, outwit them and out-mean them. Then move on to the next.

  The philosophy had served him well. By the time he’d hit college, his mother hadn’t had to worry about the electricity bill or the heat or the water. He’d had them covered, as well as having built a nice nest egg for something of his own—business school.

  When he left a job, he always moved on to something better. He’d detoured in the case of Underhill Associates, but never again.

  Never again.

  He was about to exit out the other side of the conference room when he noticed something on the floor behind the potted plant. It piqued his temper all over again. Even the cleaning crew was slacking. He bent down to pick up the folder when he realized he’d seen it before.

  It was Lexie’s proposal, the one she hadn’t had a chance to pitch.

  He swept his fingers along the clear plastic cover, folding it back from where it had creased. He remembered how possessive she’d been about this thing—and how excited. Opening the document, he started to read. He was on page five before he felt his thighs burning. He was still in a crouch.

  Standing slowly, he considered what he held in his hands. Opening the other conference room door, he headed down the far hallway and into his office suite. He was reading again as he passed his administrative assistant.

  “Hold my calls. I don’t want any interruptions.”

  Chapter Eight

  The hatchet man was waiting for her when she got home. Fatigue and uneasiness settled over Lexie when she recognized the black SUV parked in front of her house. Twilight had long since given way to a warm summer night, yet the big vehicle seemed to soak up whatever light remained around it. She slowed as she made her way up the private road. Underhill Manor and its grounds were gated from unwanted guests, yet somebody had let him in—or given him the gate code. He didn’t normally come to the family house to do business, but things were obviously changing. She pulled into the little turnaround drive and saw him sitting on her front steps, looking patient yet observant.

  Like a wolf watching careless prey come too close.

  Heartbeat speeding up, she shifted into park and braced herself. She was too tired to deal with the man. Any time he came near, electricity seemed to spark and sputter. It left her feeling drained by the time he walked away, and the day had been long already.

  Yet in some ways, not long enough. She missed Roxie, even though she’d just left her.

  Pushing away the unfamiliar separation anxiety, Lexie killed the engine. She could still feel Cam watching her as the dome light shone down upon her. It made her feel as if her innermost secrets were being exposed, and she leaned over to grab her things. She hesitated when she saw the carryall with her proposals on the passenger seat. She’d forgotten about them until Roxie had found them when they’d gone to get their DNA tests. Looking at them now, Lexie couldn’t believe how the idea had consumed her for the past month. It seemed like such an inconsequential thing after the day she’d had.

  Still, something deep inside her didn’t want Rowe to see them. Leaving them where they were, she grabbed her purse and got out of her car. The dome light turned off, but the headlights took longer. They bathed her in artificial light as she circled the car to approach her enemy.

  If that’s what he was to her anymore.

  Her cheeks warmed. She’d let him get too close during her walk on the wild side. Way too close.

  He watched her silently. The little black dress she’d borrowed from her sister had looked simple and comfortable on the hanger, but she hadn’t realized how the soft material would cling to her curves or how low the scooped neckline would sit on her breasts.

  Rowe saw it all in one quick sweep. “You’re getting home late.”

  “What are you doing here, Cam?”

  “Waiting for you. You didn’t call.”

  “Neither did you.”

  The timer on her headlights went off and they dimmed, leaving the two of them alone in the dark. The moon was at a low crescent stage, and its bluish light was more tactile than illuminating. It only hinted at lushness in the foreground or danger in the shadows.

  Lexie’s heart began beating double time. Was he here to tell her that she didn’t have time to figure out what her next move would be? That the family had decided she needed to leave the company immediately?

  Or was he going to kiss her again?

  He rose from his seated position to stand on the steps in front of her, a hard, dark presence she could feel more than see. The air stirred, and she felt his fingertips brush over her cheek. “Are you feeling better?”

  Heat washed through her, and she stepped back, nodding.

  “You look better.”

  The main house wasn’t that far away, but a bend in the road and the crest of the hill hid the gatehouse from view. It had been designed that way to give guests their privacy and to leave the view from the main house’s veranda uncluttered. Lexie had always liked that about her little cottage. It gave her the independence she wanted but kept her close to the family she craved.

  Tonight, though, everyone seemed too far away. With the moon just peeking at them, they could have been the only two people in the world. Her fingers curled around her keys.

  “Why don’t you come inside?” she found herself saying.

  She didn’t know which was worse, standing alone with him outside in the dark or in the well-lit privacy of her home, but she wanted to know what had happened at the office. Worry had been niggling at her all day. She couldn’t forget how
quickly he’d left when her father had called. Had the billboard story blown up? Had her marketing team suffered any setbacks due to her…situation? Most importantly, had he told anyone about Roxie?

  Sucking in a breath, she climbed the steps to the door. Cam turned, and she accidentally brushed against him as she walked past. She nearly dropped her key, but he reached out to steady her.

  “I’m not drunk again,” she said defensively.

  “It’s dark out here.”

  Dark. Close. Secluded.

  His heat slid around her, and her key clanked against the metal lock. Finally, it slid into the keyhole. Pushing open the door, Lexie reached inside for the light switch. Relief spread through her when the entryway brightened. She stepped inside away from him, but just like that, her discomfiture returned.

  The two-bedroom bungalow was her home, her space, her private hideaway. If she’d been uneasy having him in her office the other night, this was a thousand times worse. Her grip on her purse tightened.

  She’d been in a rush to get to the office last time she’d been home. A pillow sat on the floor in the living room, where she’d sat cross-legged as she’d practiced going through her pitch. The light from the entryway stretched into her bedroom, gently illuminating her unmade bed and a pink babydoll nightgown. And her proposal! The original draft version and her notes were spread out on her dining room table right in front of them. Moving quickly, she gathered up the papers and set her purse on top of them.

  The click of the door had her spinning around. The tiny house seemed even smaller with him inside it, and she shied away. There was nothing here to be ashamed of, nothing to surprise or shock, but it was her life set out on display. She hadn’t decided whether or not to let this man into her world, but he’d barged in with all the delicacy of a battering ram.

  Although she may have left the drawbridge down over the moat last night.

  She rubbed her bare arms and felt her right foot instinctively cocking back onto its heel.

  Cam looked around the place with interest. “Your mother didn’t decorate this.”

  The statement unarmed her. Why would he say something like that?

  “Except for that,” he said, pointing at a brass urn on the entryway table.

  Lexie found herself at a loss for words. She hated that particular piece, but Anne Marie had insisted that a vase with flowers was too pedestrian.

  “Or that.” He was nodding across the dimly lit living room to the picture of still fruit over the fireplace.

  His eye was just a bit too good. Lexie’s foot came down, and she walked to the kitchen. Privacy was swiftly turning to intimacy. She filled herself a glass of water at the sink and looked over her shoulder. “Do you want anything?”

  His eyebrow lifted. “I’m good.”

  She drank thirstily. The glass let out a soft ring when she set it on the counter, and she wiped her hands over Roxie’s dress.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come home tonight at all,” he said, “but I took a chance you didn’t want to sleep on that foldout again.”

  Lexie’s nerve endings were tingling. They’d shared that uncomfortable bed, and he knew it. He was watching her, waiting for a reaction. He got one. Her entire body flared, but she tried her best not to let it show.

  She cleared her throat. “Roxie wanted to spend the night here.”

  “So you two worked things out after I left?”

  “I tried to explain Julian to her.”

  “And how he’d think that having the Underhills should be enough for you?”

  Lexie licked her lips. If anything, this man saw her too clearly. “She’s coming over tomorrow morning instead.” She smoothed the soft dress over her stomach. “We’re going to tell the family.”

  “Are you ready for that?”

  She hesitated. Honestly, she wasn’t sure. Half of her wanted to get it over with. The other half wanted to learn more, to figure out the best steps to take and the right questions to ask. “We both want some answers. I’m just afraid…”

  “Of what?”

  “That somebody’s going to be hurt.” She rubbed her temple. It wasn’t going to be as easy as the reunion stories in the newspaper or on TV. Feelings were going to be raw. Roxie was already upset that they’d been split up. They both were.

  With a sigh, Cam walked over and held out his hand. “Let’s sit down.”

  Lexie stared at that hand. Last time he’d touched her, it had been on her breast. Strong, hot and sexy. She inhaled shakily, but he caught her hand before she had time to protest or pull away—or reach out first.

  She followed along as he led the way to the living room. She wished she’d turned on more lights, but he walked right by the switches into the living area. He guided her towards the sofa and she sat, feeling the weight of everything pushing down on her. Instead of sitting in the overstuffed chair to her left, though, he sat down in front of her on the coffee table. His nearness made her muscles catch.

  “What time is she coming by?” he asked.

  They were sitting so closely, their knees nearly brushed. He was wearing a black T-shirt that showed the hardness of his chest and stretched around the curved muscles of his arms. In khakis, it was the most casual she’d ever seen him, yet the inner wolf was even more visible. Outside she’d only been able to feel him. Here in the dim light, she could see him, feel his heat and watch his dark eyes as they watched her.

  “It’s a family matter,” she hedged.

  He sat forward to brace his elbows against his knees, and every rough, chiseled inch of him was firmly in her space.

  “And I’ve somehow become the family troubleshooter.”

  Her stomach dipped. “This has nothing to do with Underhill Associates.”

  “But everything to do with you.” His hands cupped her knees. “What time?”

  Her mouth went dry all over again. It was such a simple touch, yet from him, utterly intimate. His fingers caressed the delicate skin at the back of her knee, and his thumbs rested against her kneecaps. She suddenly found it hard to think, much less talk. “Nine,” she managed to get out.

  “I’ll be there.”

  Well, that shouldn’t complicate things at all, she thought. Yet in the back of her mind, she remembered how he’d stood at her side when the billboard had been discovered. And how surprised, but glad, she’d been to have him there.

  She laced her fingers as she settled them in her lap. “What did Julian want this morning?”

  “There were problems with some deals.”

  “Because of the billboard?”

  “It’s a minor hiccup.”

  With the state the company was in, no problem with a deal was minor. “You didn’t tell them about Roxie, did you?”

  Impatience flashed in those dark eyes, and his thumbs slid to the sensitive spots on her inner knees. “I promised you I wouldn’t. It’s your story to tell.”

  Lexie cleared her throat again, only this time it was to cover a moan. What was supposed to be a comforting touch was anything but. Heat was creeping up her thighs and nestling deep in her belly. Her muscles clenched as if to cross her legs, but there just wasn’t room.

  “Is he still upset?” she asked, trying to concentrate. “Did he ask about me?”

  A muscle in Cam’s jaw tightened. “He noticed that you didn’t come home last night, but you were right. He forgot what an ass he was pretty damn quickly.”

  She didn’t believe her father forgot anything, but embarrassment wasn’t something he admitted to freely. He certainly never forgot what an argument had been about. “I don’t know if introducing Roxie will make things better or worse.”

  “If it helps at all, she’s telling the truth about growing up in foster care.”

  Lexie looked at him. Those words sounded heavy to her ears. “What did you do?”

  He didn’t even blink. “I poked around a little.”

  “Into what?”

  “Her story.”

  She didn’t like
where this was going. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

  That muscle in his jaw pulsed again, but his gaze was steady. So was his touch. His hands stayed on her knees, and he watched her so closely, she wondered if he knew…if he could feel…

  “Lexie, I’m not going to let her work you.”

  “She’s not working me.”

  “I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but your twin has a record.”

  “I know.” The fierce protective instinct that ran through Lexie was as foreign as it was powerful. “She was arrested for shoplifting when she was eighteen and disorderly conduct for an incident outside The Ruckus. She told me.”

  “That’s just for starters.”

  She clutched at the armrest. “They were minor infractions and, frankly, I don’t care. She grew up in the system, Cam. She didn’t have people watching out for her or teaching her right from wrong. It was about survival.”

  “Don’t let her use that as an excuse. She did all right for herself.”

  “Yes, she did. I don’t know that I would have done as well if it had been me.”

  The air snapped between them, and it was a wonder there weren’t sparks. It could easily have been her, and they both knew it. Cam’s touch shifted, and heat cascaded up Lexie’s thighs.

  “Well, you do have someone watching out for you,” he said, his voice like gravel. “Me. If that makes you uncomfortable, you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

  Uncomfortable. The word hung in the air like a flashing neon sign. Lexie might not remember much about her time at the bar, but she remembered that word. She remembered the way it had slipped out. She remembered the way it had made him press her back against the jukebox. She remembered the way his hand had slid up the back of her thigh under her skirt.

  In a flash, she was on her feet.

  He came to his feet too. With as closely as they’d been sitting, they stood even closer. His feet tangled with hers, and their thighs bumped intimately. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and he caught her hips as if they had the right.