Before She Was Mine

by Amelia Wilde

  “It’s not a problem, Vivienne!” he calls back. “I’ve got a meeting outside the office. I won’t be back in.” He pulls the last few of the things he needs from his desk, then closes all the drawers and comes out by my desk. “There are a few things that need taking care of,” he says, glancing down at the stack of blue folders on my desk. Then he gives a little frown, like he doesn’t want to assign me this work, but it’s necessary. “By the end of the day, would you?”

  I grit my teeth, putting on the biggest smile I can. I will not miss working for Overhiser when this is finished. “Absolutely.”

  Then he’s on his way out the door, whistling as he goes, and my heart is in my throat.

  It’s time to call Dominic.

  44

  Dominic

  “Mr. Wilder—there’s an unscheduled call for you. Can I take a message, or put it through?”

  I turn away from my screen to where Emily is standing in the doorway to my office, one foot in and one foot out, ready to go back to her desk. “Who is it?” I finally have my balance again, after that bizarre executive meeting, and the afternoon is ticking away.

  “Vivienne Davis, from the executive level.”

  The name makes my skin go hot and my stomach go cold. I don’t want to talk to her—hearing her voice is going to be torture—but I’m the one who put myself in this position. I’m the one who pursued her. I’m the only one who can’t fire her now.

  At least it’ll put me out of my misery. It won’t take long to know whether she’s over this already, the fight we had firmly in the past, or whether it’s still an open wound for her, too.

  I try to keep all of this off my face. “Put the call through.”

  My hands are slick while I wait for the indicator light on my phone to beep, and it does, an eternal moment later. I snatch up the handset too fast, too violently, and almost drop it.

  Vivienne, I want to say, like we’re both in bed together, like none of this happened, but instead I say, “This is Dominic Wilder.”

  There’s the smallest sound over the phone line, like she’s swallowing hard. “Mr. Wilder.”

  That’s all it takes. That’s all it takes, and I know with absolute certainty that this is killing her like it’s killing me.

  I don’t know how we’re ever going to get past this. I don’t know how she could stay in her job—she’ll transfer, at some point, because we can’t—

  “Is there something I can do for you, Ms. Davis?”

  She takes another breath in, and then answers, the tension straining her voice. “I’d like to meet with you for a few minutes, if you had some time this afternoon.”

  “This afternoon? No.” I answer as quickly as I can, because it’s true. I have meetings scheduled for the rest of the afternoon, and I’m not going to move them, as much as it’s a knife in the gut for me to deny her anything, anything. My new focus is on Wilder Enterprises. I can’t be having these kinds of conversations when I’m supposed to be building the company. Then another thought occurs to me. “Is this related to—personal or business matters?”

  “Business.” She says it steadily, but there’s a little shake in her voice that tells me it’s not entirely that, it will never be entirely that again.

  “I’m fairly scheduled for the afternoon,” I say, moving heaven and earth to keep my own voice in check. “Could you come by my office at about five-thirty?”

  “That would be perfect. I’ll see you then.”

  “Goodbye.”

  She hangs up before all the unsaid things between us can hang out there on the line, while we both writhe on the end of our hooks.

  It’s a miracle that I get anything else done for the rest of the afternoon. At ten to five, I go out to Emily’s desk.

  “Head out early today.”

  She stops typing and blinks up at me. “Are you—I’ve got a few more things to finish for—”

  “Are any of them urgent and needed first thing in the morning?”

  She considers, glancing at the screen. “No, I’m—I’m actually ahead of schedule a bit. These are for Monday.”

  “Head out early and enjoy the afternoon.”

  Emily gives me a smile and clicks out of the calendar. “Thanks, Mr. Wilder.” She’s gone within three minutes. The elevator doors slide open, then they’re closing, and she’s gone. I should give her early afternoons more often. She’s never once complained about staying late.

  I repeat the process for everyone else on the floor, and no one argues.

  I can’t sit still, so I pace over to the windows, then pace back, my heart revving up. Vivienne’s not going to be late.

  I’m right about that. The elevator doors open at exactly five-thirty, and there she is, walking past the empty offices and meeting rooms. Her eyes flicker from side to side, and as she gets closer, she presses her lips into a thin line.

  She knows we’re alone.

  I go back behind my desk.

  The air in the room is fiery with the tension, stretched tight, ready to snap, and Vivienne takes a big breath in, her green eyes huge, the color made brighter by the fact that they’re red.

  “Mr. Wilder.” Her voice cuts the silence like a knife, and I can tell it’s taking a huge effort to keep it in check. “I have—I have something I wanted to discuss with you.”

  “Take a seat.” I do the same, sitting down in a parody of normalcy. “Go ahead, Ms. Davis.”

  She looks me squarely in the eye. “I don’t want to dance around this.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Okay.” Another breath. “For the last couple of months, I’ve been working undercover at Wilder Enterprises. I’m an agent with the FBI, and I was sent here to determine if a member of your company has been selling sensitive energy technology information to someone affiliated with the Chinese government.”

  My heart thuds, once, twice, against my rib cage, and I can feel blood rushing to my face. I wasn’t wrong, then. I was right, and she was hiding something from me.

  “Last night,” she continues, “I finally gathered the final pieces of evidence to prove that Mark Sadler, a member of your technical support department, has been doing involved in such a scheme.” She reaches behind the folder she has pressed to her chest and produces a flash drive, which she drops on the desk between us, biting her lip.

  Vivienne hasn’t looked away from me, and she doesn’t now, only her eyes are glistening, and the next breath she takes has a hitch in it. “I couldn’t tell you, Dominic, and I shouldn’t be telling you now. I should have called my boss early this morning so that they could put together a plan to make the arrest. But I couldn’t—” Her voice breaks, and she swallows painfully. “I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t keep hiding from you. I’ve been—I’ve been so heartbroken. I’ve been beside myself with the pain of not being able to tell you, of losing you, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t do it anymore.” She’s still looking at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I couldn’t do it. My job—it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to forgive me.”

  For the first time, Vivienne looks down at my desk. “I have a call to make,” she says after a moment of heavy silence. “But I wanted to tell you first. I couldn’t leave all this behind without telling you first.”

  Then she stands up, the back of her knees pressing her chair backward, and makes a move toward the door.

  I’m out of my seat in an instant, around the desk in two steps, gathering her into my arms and kissing her hard, the heat escalating between us and around us and everywhere. Her tears are salty on her lips. The folder falls to the floor, and her arms go around my neck.

  “No.” My voice is husky, unstable. “Don’t leave any of it behind. Don’t leave. Come back to me.”

  45

  Vivienne

  Dominic’s voice is a balm on the shattered mess of my heart, and his words break me wide open, the silent tears turning to sobs of relief as he kisses me, again and again, his lips claiming me for his own, his need for me
palpable in every single touch.

  “I wanted to tell you,” I say in broken phrases through the kisses. “I wanted—”

  “I was a prick. I was reckless with you, and I shouldn’t have been.” He pulls back, hands on my face, and stares into my eyes, his gaze piercing. “Vivienne, it all started coming apart from the moment I walked away from you. And I realized—I realized it was a bigger disaster to leave you behind than it ever was to stay with you.” His voice is urgent, and I put my hands up on his wrists, holding on tight. “We can figure this out. Whatever it means for your job, for my company—we can figure it out. But I can’t be without you. I can’t.”

  “I don’t ever want to be without you,” I say, with one final sob, and it turns into laughter at the tail end. “It was all so stupid, such a stupid fight—”

  Then his mouth is on mine again, possessive and hot, and I melt under his hands. With one movement, he lifts me up and turns, backing me up until my ass makes contact with the hard mahogany of his desk, and with one sweep of his arm he clears it, an elegant pen holder and a desk calendar clattering to the ground.

  His tongue explores my mouth like it’s the first time we’ve ever kissed, and I can tell from his harsh breathing that he’s barely able to keep himself in check. I feel the same wild energy and urgency pulsing through me, rocketing through me, and my clothes have never seemed like such an inconvenience in my life.

  I wrap my hands around Dominic’s neck as his hands move roughly downward, touching me like I want to be touched right now, touching me like I belong to him and I always will, and nothing will ever break us apart again. He shoves the skirt of my dress up around my hips and nudges his legs between mine so I’m spread out on the edge of his desk. With his lips on the side of my neck, trailing hot wet kisses down to my shoulder, he puts both hands on my panties and wrenches them down and off, tossing the fabric to the floor.

  I hold on tight. I hold on like I’m drowning, like he’s the last lifeline, and the sensation of his muscles moving under my hands as he undoes his buckle, unzips his pants, frees his hard and ready cock, is burned into my memory.

  This isn’t lovemaking, this is a hot, desperate fuck, and I’m soaking wet, spread wide, and Dominic doesn’t waste a moment before he’s thrusting into me, his hands on my ass, somehow keeping me steady on the edge of the desk.

  “Yes…yes…”

  He’s buried to the hilt in one stroke, and all my muscles clench around him, my toes curling, all the pent-up energy focusing down to my molten core. “Never leave me again,” he growls into my ear, and one, two, three thrusts and I’m over the top in my first orgasm, coming hard onto his steeled length, biting down on his shoulder to muffle my cries.

  “I didn’t leave,” I gasp. “I didn’t leave—”

  His hands tighten on my ass, and he slows the pace for a few minutes, kissing the side of my temple, biting at my earlobe, his voice a low whisper. “You’re right. I’ll never turn my back on you again, sweet thing. Never again. You’re mine.”

  “I’m yours.”

  The words ignite him again, and the languid pace evaporates in an instant.

  “Tell me again.”

  “I’m yours—” I can hardly get a breath in, my legs spread to capacity on the desk, and my clit is throbbing with every stroke as our bodies make contact again and again, and I’ve been dying for this, I’ve been dying to be taken, to be possessed, and Dominic is giving it to me all in this moment, all in this hot, concentrated moment. The door to his office is wide open and he doesn’t care, and I don’t care, it’s all I can do to even see past his shoulders.

  My hair comes loose from its twist, spilling down over my shoulders, and with one hand still firmly on my ass, he reaches back and threads his fingers through it, pulling my head back, tipping my chin up so that my neck is exposed for him to lick in one long motion with his tongue.

  “God, you taste so good—”

  I tighten around him, completely unable to stop the moans escaping from my lips as I wind up again for another orgasm. When it hits, it’s so powerful that I almost lose my grip on Dominic’s shoulders, rocking dangerously into him, and he’s holding me tighter than ever before when he goes over the edge into his own release, coming hard inside me with a sharp hiss.

  We’re locked in place, bodies trembling, for a long time after that.

  Until Dominic lifts his head from my shoulder, sweeps my hair away from my face with his hands, and kisses me, tenderly, gently. “I love you, Vivienne Davis.”

  I make a face, and he pulls back another few inches. “What?”

  “My name is Vivienne.”

  He gives me a wry grin. “Is this the last of the secrets, then?”

  “I swear. My name is Vivienne Peterson.”

  “I can live with that.” Dominic purses his lips. “Unless you want to take my name when—”

  I burst into laughter. “You are not proposing to me right now.”

  He looks hurt. “Why not?” Then he grins. “When I actually propose, it won’t be in my office.”

  “Why not?” I echo, pretending to take in the space for the first time. “It’s so romantic.”

  He helps me off the desk, helps to straighten my dress, tugging it back into place before he zips his pants, threading his belt back into an appropriate state. “We did meet in front of this very building.”

  I roll my eyes. “That was—not one of my more shining moments. So maybe we agree to forget it?”

  He laughs out loud, and I shift my weight to the side, getting ready to head to the door. We don’t need to be here anymore. I need to make a call, and Dominic—

  My heart drops straight into my toes, ice cascading through my veins.

  Because Mark Sadler is standing in the doorway, face pale, both hands wrapped around a Beretta 92, the black gun trembling slightly in his grasp.

  46

  Dominic

  Vivienne’s face goes pale, and the easy laughter tumbling out of my mouth turns into a silence.

  “I’m not going to let this happen.”

  The voice behind me is totally unfamiliar. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before in my life. I’m torn between a desperate need to see who the hell this is, and what the hell they’re talking about, and the need to stay looking at Vivienne.

  She presses her lips into a thin line, then reaches slowly for my arm, pressing her hand against my elbow so that I turn. “Slowly,” she whispers. “Slowly.”

  I turn around, and my heart jumps.

  Security hasn’t been a big issue at Wilder Enterprises. Many of the firms who rent space from us hire their own security, and I have a team stationed outside the building, but I’ve never been one for a militaristic presence in the front lobby. The regular team that assigns visitor badges has always done a fine job, but with a plummeting sensation I realize, too late, that I should have done something once O’Connor clued me in on the investigation. I should have been able to foresee this kind of situation—

  My thoughts go silent when Vivienne’s voice breaks in.

  “What are you talking about, Mark?” Her tone is even, casual, with a hint of confusion. “You should put down the gun.”

  “I’m not putting down the gun.” Mark speaks the words through a clenched jaw. His sandy hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it, and his shirt is soaked with sweat. “And you know what I’m talking about. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.”

  “I really don’t, Mark.” Vivienne is slowly shifting her weight, moving ever so slightly toward me, in front of me, and I resist the urge to throw my arm out to stop her. I am not going to let her take a bullet for me, FBI or not.

  “You’ve been after me. You came to my office, and you did something to my computer, and it’s over, okay? You’re not doing that anymore.” His eyes are wide, the color almost swallowed up by the whites of his eyes, and he glances between me and Vivienne like it’s a tic he can’t control. “I can’t let you do this.�
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  Vivienne raises her hands in the air. “I’m not doing anything. I’m having a conversation with my boss.”

  “I don’t care if he’s your boss. I don’t care who you’re working for, the Feds, or—” He swallows hard. “I don’t care. This ends now.”

  “I don’t understand.” Vivienne lowers her arms, spreading her hands in what seems like a plea for explanation. “What are you hoping to gain from shooting us?”

  She’s moving again, almost like she’s become frightened, slipping her hand behind me but keeping her back straight. There’s the softest sound of plastic brushing plastic, like she’s lifting the handset off the phone, and her fingers whisper over the keypad.

  “What are you doing?” Mark’s voice is loud, rough, and Vivienne flinches like she’s been hit, jumping back into her place.

  “I want to know why you’re planning to shoot us, Mark. Or is that not your plan? Are you planning to do something else?” She raises her shoulders, drops them down. “Look, if you’re looking for a conversation, we can sit down and talk. Put down the gun.”

  The gun shakes in his hands, the barrel bobbing up and down. “It’s too late for that.”

  “It’s never too late to talk. You can start talking right now, if that’s what you came here for.”

  “I didn’t have a choice!” He shouts the words, almost spits them, at Vivienne. “I didn’t have a choice, okay?” Then his mouth twitches into a grimace. “Why couldn’t you stay out of it? I know you did something to my computer. I know you’ve been after me.”

  I can’t stay silent anymore. “Mark, I own this company, and I can assure you that I never sent anyone to—”

  “Shut your mouth.” The barrel of the gun swings toward me, and I can feel every thudding heartbeat in my throat. I don’t have a trick to pull with the phone, and I sent everyone home. I sent everyone home. “I’ve seen her in my office twice now, trying to screw with my computer.”