by Ravenna Tate
“A good reporter needs one.”
“What else can you do with that mouth, I wonder?”
He’d asked the question under his breath, but she heard it. As she pondered the meaning behind it, and tried to think of a smartass comeback, the doors opened. He led her down a cinder block hallway lined with carpeting. Signage at intervals pointed them toward numbered loges, each marked by a door that resembled the ones on the elevator. About three quarters around a curved corridor, he stopped before one and swiped an electronic key.
“Here we are.” He pushed open the door and stepped back, allowing her to cross the threshold first.
“Wow.” It was much larger than she’d been imagining, and decorated in muted tones with soft lighting. The wall facing the arena was covered by a shade that was partially opaque, and she couldn’t hear the noise below. “Is it soundproof?”
He stepped inside and closed the door behind them. “Yes. We can watch the game on a large monitor or open the shade and experience the crowd. Come and see.” She followed him to the shade which he opened with a remote. The crowd noise drifted up, and then he opened a nearly invisible door set against one edge of the shade. “It’s safe.”
Julianne followed him out onto a balcony with a glass partition that was taller than she was. It offered an unencumbered view of the arena and the crowd around them. She glanced right and left to find opaque barriers. “Do those separate this balcony from the others?”
“Yes. We have privacy, even out here.”
“Unless someone glances up, of course.”
His grin sent her hormones into overdrive again. “Yes, unless they do that.”
“This is amazing, Kane.”
“I enjoy it.” He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation. “Come on back inside. I’ll give you a tour. We have almost two hours before the game starts. Dinner will be here in about fifteen minutes.”
He closed the door to the balcony but left the shade open as he moved his arm in a circle. “This is the main room. It seats twelve quite comfortably. Once, about four years ago, all the Weathermen were here at once and we came to a game.”
“How fun.”
“We don’t have enough opportunities to get together as a group.”
“Doesn’t one of you have a wedding coming up?”
He gave her a curious look. “Your source?”
“Gossip columns. Ace Easton is getting married in two months in NorthCentral. Can I assume you’re all attending?”
He glanced toward her bag. “Is your recorder on?”
“No.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Yes, we’re all attending Ace’s wedding to Harper.” She followed him to a door which he opened. “Bathroom is in there. It even has a shower.”
“Impressive.”
The next door her opened led to a kitchen. “Fully stocked, and not too large but there’s enough room to move around in.”
She stepped inside. “Are you kidding? This is the same size as half my apartment.”
The corners of his mouth turned up, and then he led her down a short hallway. “Part of the building is open twenty-four hours. There’s a security staff, plus a small staff to serve the needs of loge owners. I could stay here if I needed to.”
He opened the door to a richly-appointed bedroom, complete with a four-poster bed. “You’re kidding. Have you stayed here?” The second she asked she wished she hadn’t. What he did with his dates in this loge was none of her business.
“Only once.”
“Do you plan to stay here tonight?”
His grin evoked images of the two of them, naked and sweaty in that big bed. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet, but it might be fun.”
She averted her gaze because looking at him in here, so casual and playful, was too much for her failing willpower. They were totally alone, and her mind worked overtime with the decadent things they could do.
“Would you like to keep the shade open, or watch the pre-game festivities on the big screen?”
“Let’s keep the shade open for now.”
He pointed toward a comfy-looking sofa. “Have a seat. Dinner should be here soon.”
“Thanks again for this, Kane.” She sat on the right side and he took the middle seat. “Are you going to tell me what they all said this morning in the meeting?”
His gaze dropped to her bag again, so she picked it up from where she’d placed it on the carpet and dumped it out on the coffee table. She picked up both recorders and showed him that they were off. “Okay? I won’t turn them on until you say I can.”
He had the grace to look guilty. “I’m sorry. Old habits die hard I guess.”
“You’re the one who asked me to meet you here, Kane. Not the other way around. What is this, anyway? I mean for real? Why couldn’t you simply discuss the stories with me at your office?”
This time, he averted his gaze, and then he ran his hand through his hair. She frowned as she watched confusion pass over his face, but he was saved from having to answer her when a knock sounded on the door. He rose to open the door and let in the delivery person. When Kane glanced toward the table, Julianne scooped up the contents of her bag and watched the woman who had brought the food and drink lay it out on the table. Kane tipped her, and then they were alone again.
“I hope you like this. It’s from a place that caters most of the functions at my company.”
“You went to a lot of trouble tonight.”
He opened containers of steamed veggies, stir-fry smelling of peanut sauce, and a white cake covered with raspberries and cream. Her stomach rumbled. Then he reached into a large brown bag and removed plates, silverware, napkins, a bottle of very expensive wine, a corkscrew, and two glasses. “To toast your upcoming stories.”
“So, I do have upcoming stories then?”
He proceeded to open the wine. “Yes, you do.”
She watched him, and then once he had the wine poured, she raised her glass in imitation of his gesture.
“To your stories, and to new possibilities.”
“To both,” she said, clinking has glass gently against his. The wine tasted incredible, and she said so.
“I’m glad you like it. This food smells amazing, too. Let’s have something to eat while we talk.”
“First tell me why I’m here with you. You could have told me about the stories over the phone or even in an email.”
Kane sighed loudly, but she didn’t give a shit. Julianne needed to know what his intentions were so she didn’t make a damn fool of herself. If that made him uncomfortable, tough shit.
“All right. I’ll tell you because you’re right. I could have called or emailed you and told you what they said. You’re here because I haven’t stopped thinking about you in five years.”
Whoa. She hadn’t been expecting that.
“You’re here because I was pissed off Monday when I thought you were trying to pull the same shit, but I also couldn’t believe my reaction to seeing you again. You’re here because I called your editor again Tuesday morning, and asked her to send me links to all the stories you’ve done for UTU.”
“You did what?”
He held up a hand. “Hold on. Let me finish. You’re here because I read all of them, and then I re-read the letter you sent me and the retraction you made The Whole Truth print. Either you’ve been putting on one hell of an act for four years, or you really have changed your ways. I want to give you these stories because they’re good press for my company, and also because they’ll be good for your career.”
He sighed again and gazed into her eyes for long moments. Time stopped. She didn’t move. She didn’t dare breathe. “Most of all, you’re here because I want to make love to you. The right way this time. Not in a hurry, bent over a desk. I want to wine and dine you. I want to seduce you, Julianne. This time, we’re doing it right.”
Chapter Five
Julianne blinked a few times and swallowed hard against the sudden lump in he
r throat. How in the hell was she supposed to eat now, after hearing that speech? “Thank you for telling me. I want the same thing.”
The words seemed inadequate, but they were all she had. She was stunned, and for the first time in a long time, had been rendered incapable of firing off a smartass comeback. Sure, she knew he’d dropped hints and flirted mildly, but to hear him say it made it real. Now she had to do something about it.
He smiled, his gorgeous face filled with relief. “Thank goodness. I was afraid for a second or two I’d made a complete ass of myself.”
“I’ve been worried about doing the same thing.” She hadn’t realized how much until she said the words. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you either.”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly. I’m not just feeding you a line. I have changed, Kane, and I want these stories badly for the same reasons you do.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes, and Julianne wasn’t sure what else she could say right now. She was no stranger to seduction, but she’d never heard such an honest, straightforward speech from a man, and she’d never expected one from Kane Bannerman. She wasn’t easily thrown off guard, but damn if he hadn’t done that to her now, and in a big way.
The air was charged as if a storm were brewing, which of course was impossible. It never even rained underground. The excitement in the room was palpable, and she was torn between suggesting they not waste this food or wine, and ripping off her clothes. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted any man.
“Well,” he said, his voice uncertain, “now that we’ve laid it all out there, it still would be a shame to waste this food and wine.”
That broke the spell, and she chuckled. “I was thinking the same thing. Let’s eat. The smell is making me crazy.”
The food was incredible, and Julianne only ate so much because she was nervous, and he had gone to the trouble of doing all this for her. Now she was glad she’d worn her sexiest underwear. It was a cobalt blue satin teddy that matched her eye color, and she’d never worn it before. It made her feel wanton and sexy, and she couldn’t wait to see his reaction to it.
The bottle of wine was nearly empty when they finished dessert, but she didn’t feel drunk at all. Every nerve ending was on fire. Kane placed the leftover food in the fridge and walked out onto the balcony again, holding his wine glass. She followed, and they eyed the crowd. The game would start in about half an hour, and the arena was nearly filled to capacity already. The noise was deafening, but she felt isolated from it all.
Tonight, she was royalty, poised above the peasants in a private loge with a prince. They could watch the game, or they could ignore it and the throngs of peasants below to instead fuck like monkeys in their private enclave. She sipped her wine, her head swimming with decadent images and endless possibilities of what might happen later.
“Do you want to stand out here and watch the game once it starts?”
She gazed up at him, suddenly wondering how many other women he brought here routinely. It didn’t matter because he’d given her no indication this was nothing more than a one-night thing, but she would like to know where she stood, regardless. “Is that what you normally do with the dates you bring here?”
The corners of his mouth turned up. “Julianne, if that’s a roundabout way of asking me how many women I’m seeing, relax. I don’t do that, despite what the tabloids say. I’m not seeing anyone right now, except you, of course. Unless you’d rather this be a fling and we will never repeat tonight.”
Holy shit. “Do you want it to be one time only?”
“I asked you first.”
How had he nailed her, just like that? “I don’t want it to be a one-time thing.”
“Good. Neither do I. Now, I’ll ask again. Do you want to watch the game from here, or from inside?”
“Let’s watch it from here for a while. This is kind of fun. I’ve never looked down over a crowd from a private perch before.”
He handed her his wine glass with a big smile on his face. “I was hoping you’d say that. Be right back.”
When he returned, he carried two folding canvas chairs. Once he set them up, they placed their wine glasses in inserts he’d placed inside the cup holders attached to the arms of the chairs, and looked out over the arena. They were close to the center of the ice, so they had a fabulous view. “How long have you owned the loge?”
“Since the arena was built. I wanted the one two down from this at dead center, but someone beat me to it.”
She laughed softly. “You mean there’s someone richer than you?”
“Yes. My father.”
“He owns a loge, too?” That answered the question of whether he still had family alive.
“Two of them. The one I wanted, and the one between that one and mine.”
She peered left toward center ice. “Is he over there now?”
Kane shrugged. “No clue. We don’t talk much.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We get along fine, but he hasn’t much to say to anyone unless it’s a business conversation. He and my grandfather still own shares in the company, and we all get together for holidays, but we don’t have a great deal of day-to-day chitchat.”
Julianne couldn’t imagine not speaking to her family every day. She had to silence her phone at night or her sisters called and texted her at all hours. They thought nothing of it, and assumed everyone could easily go back to sleep like they could.
“What about you?” he asked. “Do you have family here with you?”
“All of them. Two brothers, two sisters, my parents, and my maternal grandparents. My dad’s parents had already passed away before we all moved underground. I also have assorted aunts, uncles, and cousins living close by.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“It’s crowded.”
He chuckled. “But I’ll bet you’re never lonely.”
She averted her gaze as the crowd shouted. The players were being introduced. “Never lonely for someone to talk to, that’s for sure.”
“I hear a ‘but’ in there.”
She rolled her eyes. He was either very intuitive or she was more transparent than she thought. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date or had sex.” No point in being coy now.
“Thank you for the candor.”
Julianne glanced at him. “I don’t believe in head games anymore. I told you I’ve changed.”
“Fair enough. So tell me how you found out about the teams to begin with. You said you have a source.”
Fuck. “She told me something in passing, and I asked her to dig deeper. Be reasonable, Kane. It’s a juicy piece of gossip.”
“I don’t disagree with that, but we’ve been over why it can’t become public knowledge. You may never agree with me on that point, but surely you can see my point of view.”
She sighed. “I can see it.”
“What were you eventually told by your source?”
“That you each had a covert team tracking down IP addresses and even machine IDs.”
“Who told you? That’s inside information, Julianne.”
His voice had turned hard, but she ignored that for now. “Is that a confirmation?”
“I think you’ve already figured out we have them.”
She had trouble staying in her seat, and wished her damn recorder wasn’t back inside. He knew it was, and he knew if she went to retrieve it he wouldn’t say another word. Well played, Kane. “All right. So tell me if the other Weathermen are going to let you give me what I want to write the story.”
“They have two conditions. One, you name the source. We can’t have leaks, Julianne. Surely you can understand why.”
“I do understand. It’s a security issue. What’s the other condition?”
“That you give it a different slant.”
The noise inside the arena was so loud now she could barely hear him, and as much fun as it was to sit out here, she didn’t want to stop his momentum
right now. She stood. “I can barely hear you. Can we go back inside to finish this conversation?”
“Sure.”
Once they brought their wine glasses and chairs inside, and were seated on the sofa again, he closed the shade and put the TV on, but turned the sound down so they could hear each other.
“What do you mean by the condition that I give the story a different slant?”
“They want you to write about cyber security in general, and how most companies can track what we’re doing, and how they do it.”
She frowned. “Isn’t that the same thing as letting the hackers know you’re on to them?”
“No, because you won’t be writing that we all have secret teams, and you won’t be using language that would give away our secrets. It’s information that anyone could find with a bit of knowledge about the industry.”
Disappointed didn’t even begin to cover how she felt. “Others before me have written a hundred articles just like that.”
The gleam in his eye angered her. Was he mocking her? “They have, but not with direct quotes from each of us.”
“Kane, forgive me. I know you all are billionaires and legends in your fields, but this is nothing more than a fluff piece. Patti might not even let it go to print. It’s too generic and vague. Or was that your plan all along? Throw me a bone in the hopes my editor will kill it stone cold dead?”
“Ouch. You know how to wound a guy.”
“Come on. Seriously. You’ve given enough interviews to know I’m right.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “I told you not to expect too much from this. Those are the conditions for the story you wanted to do. Take them or leave them. You can still do the backup piece I suggested, and I will do the interview you want for the story on the curriculum at NorthEast University. That’s two stories you still have, and I’m betting your editor won’t toss out either one. Think of it this way. You have exclusive access not only to me, but to all the Weathermen.”
She sank back against the cushions and turned the sound up on the TV. “I’ll think about it.”
They didn’t speak for twenty minutes, but Julianne was more than aware of his body next to hers on the sofa. She could still smell his cologne, and every time the Demons scored a goal or got close, his excitement was contagious. Finally, she had to ask him about the reason for a penalty, and he answered her without any hesitation, as if they hadn’t been sitting in silence for so long.