CHAPTER EIGHT
We eat in muted reticence, and I know this date is not going well. We’ve barely offered more than a few words to one another since being seated. My comments in the car were, as usual, detrimental to his reluctant psyche.
“You know what I’ve always wanted to ask you since I first met you?” I blurt out, hoping to repair the damage.
“What?”
“How did you become so successful at such a young age?”
It’s such a no-brainer question, but I figure it’s got to get him talking. He twirls his thin pasta onto the spoon with his fork, his expression softening as we find a common ground again. “I don’t know. It just happened.”
“You’re being evasive.”
“No, I honestly mean it. It just happened. My father is a pretty prestigious man in Chicago and it helped me meet prestigious people. I met a man who owned a small but profitable company in New York. He asked me to come work for him and I didn’t hesitate. I left.”
It’s just as I expected. He’s a risk-taker. “Your parents were okay with that?”
“I couldn’t care less what my parents think,” he replies and my brows soar upward, startled by his harsh undertone. “I’m sorry. They’re…it’s a sore subject for me.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry. I just want to know more about you.”
“I could say the same.”
I know he’s waiting for my story, but I’m not ready. I don’t know if I ever will be. It seems he’s as hesitant to let me in on his toilsome baggage as I am.
Benjamin sighs, picking up where he left off. “Anyways, I left. He got sick a couple years ago and gifted me the company since he had no children. I expanded it after he died and that’s now Scott Industries.”
I’m stupefied by the fact that he’s continuing to open up to me.
“And literature? Is that something you’ve always felt passionate about?”
Ah, back on comfortable ground.
“Yes. Ever since I was little, I read. It’s honestly my favorite thing to do.”
“What’s your favorite book?”
“Sense and Sensibility, Persuasion. Particularly, Pride and Prejudice. Really anything Austen. I know it’s a cliché, but that’s how the cookie crumbles.”
A broad smile covers his face. “A romantic. I should have guessed.”
“Have you ever read any of them?”
“No, I was supposed to, but I Spark-Noted the paper in high school.”
“So you were that kid?” Figures, he could use a few pointers from Austen. Most men could.
“What character am I?” he ponders aloud.
I don’t even have to think about it.
“I’m hoping you’re a Mr. Darcy.”
“I’ve heard of him.”
“He’s reserved and cold to Elizabeth at the start of the novel, but after time, he realizes how fit they are for each other despite the obstacles that come between them.” I hope he’s understanding what I’m trying to say to him. By the gentle searching look on his face, he is.
“Maybe I should read it.”
“You should.” I take a sip of wine.
“Is there anything else you would like tonight?” our server asks, interrupting quite a moment.
“Darcy?” Benjamin nudges, eyebrows raised. “Dessert?”
“I’m okay.”
“The check, please.” With that, the waiter disappears. He removes the fine napkin from his thigh, laying it down with finality onto the tablecloth. “I do have dessert at my place, if you’re interested.”
I’m beet red.
“I’d like that.”
Pleased with my answer, he brings my hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips softly to my palm. “We need to talk about work, Darcy.”
“I really don’t think it’s best to work for you, especially now.”
He looks wounded and inhales deeply, obviously trying to control a quick temper. “You get paid well, you have weekends off. Sure, it’s hard work but we’d be together. We’d have more time together.”
“And if we fight? If things start to go south, what then? How do we handle that? It’s not going to work.”
“We can make it work. Please, Darcy, do this for me.”
I don’t know whether to commend him or hit him. He knows I feel guilty about how much I’m asking him to change, and now he can get what he wants from me.
“Fine. I’ll try it. But you have to promise if I say I want to leave, you’ll let me.”
He accepts with a sharp nod of his head, clearly pleased he’s won this argument. He signs the check with faultless penmanship and says, “Let’s go.”
He leads me out of the restaurant, styled elegantly with baroque architecture, a loyal hand positioned at the small of my back. It’s hard to resist swooning when he touches me there. It’s possessive, telling.
People walking by can see we aren’t friends. We aren’t business partners.
People can see we are together.
***
Benjamin’s building is everything I expected it to look like. Tall and modern, his impressive abode towers in the sky, shining down on the city brightly. There must be a club or something here, I’m guessing, due to the colorful flashing lights in the windows throughout the middle of the skyscraper.
“This is a beautiful building,” I tell him with awe, unable to tear my eyes from it.
“Thank you. It’s mine.”
I swing my head to the left to gawk at him with shock. “You own this?”
“Yes.”
Must be nice.
He takes my hand and leads me through the doors to the elevator. The gorgeously decorated lobby is filled with refined tenants. People with money. They observe the tall, dark, and handsome man beside me with unmistakable curiosity but don’t speak to him.
We step into the elevator alone. “Where’s Dimitri?” I ask.
“He goes up the service elevator. I like my privacy. I have other security details as well, you’ll meet them. Dimitri’s my favorite so I tend to take him everywhere with me.”
“Why do you need security?”
He puts in a code for the Penthouse. I should have known.
“Because there are people who don’t like me very much.”
“Why?”
“You’ll learn more about them as my assistant. I dismantle companies just as much as I create them. Their companies are going down the drain and that’s where I come in. They don’t like me but they need me. I’ve made many enemies in this business.”
I had no idea. I study him, absorbing this. Is he trying to warn me?
“Has anyone ever tried to hurt you?” I squeeze his hand, unable to bear the thought of it.
“Yes.”
“How? When?”
He presses his lips to mine. “I’ll tell you later.”
The elevator doors open and I gasp…actually gasp, and step into the most beautiful apartment I’ve ever seen. The dark marbled foyer is completely surrounded by large windows, replacing the need for walls. I step off the elevator, and let Benjamin lead me in. The places where there are walls are filled with expensive paintings, just like the ones in his office, although these seem to be from the Impressionist movement. Although I know next to nothing about art, I can spot a Monet from a mile away. There’s a standalone table in the middle of the spacious entrance with a large plant perched atop it. His apartment is undeniably modern. He sets my luggage beside the table and guides me further into the apartment.
I’m not surprised to find that his living room is even more beautiful than the entrance. The New York skyline is bright and menacingly impressive outside the windows, just like his office. It’s like the whole city is on display. I realize just how high up we are and gulp. Yikes.
Backing up, I take in the rest of the beautiful apartment, marveling at the fact that he comes home to this every night.
“Would you like a drink, Darcy?”
“Love one.” He disap
pears into the kitchen. My fingers drift across his cut-edge dining table, my mind spinning in circles. I can’t help but be intimidated by his home, all too aware he’s seen my own one-room sanctuary. No wonder he called it shitty. “This place looks like it’s straight out of a magazine.”
He comes back in with a bottle of chilled wine and two glasses. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
“Tell me.”
“It is from a magazine. I hate decorating. I let someone else do that.” He pours our drinks, handing one over to me.
“Figures. You’re such a guy.”
“Come on. Let me show you the rest of the place.” I set down my drink on the table next to his, warming when he entwines his fingers with mine, enjoying his enthusiasm.
He leads me to a hallway and there are four doors. He points to one. “Bathroom.”
He opens the one on the right. I peer in. “You play the piano?”
A sleek black piano is set in the middle of the room. It’s literally the only thing in the dark space, which makes it look dramatic and hauntingly beautiful with all of New York behind it.
“A bit.” He smiles, and it dawns on me that this is the most I’ve seen him smile since I met him. I like it…a lot.
“This is a guest room.” He leads me from the room to another. “My room.”
He opens the door. He sleeps here every night.
“It’s beautiful.” The room is completely designed with contrasts of black and indigo. There is a flat-screen television on the wall, larger than any other TV I’ve seen. Two entire sides of the room are glass windows. There are no curtains, but then again, we are high in the sky. No one can see anything up here. There’s a large black desk against the wall, his Mac on top of it. There isn’t a thing out of place.
“Do you like it?”
“It’s fantastic. It’s just…” I explore the space around us. “You don’t have any pictures up of your family? There’s nothing of you in this place, apart from the fact that it’s beautiful.”
His mouth curves timidly as he sits on the bed. “I just don’t.”
Evasive. Always so evasive. I sit next to him, leaning my head against his wide shoulder.
“I don’t make memories, Darcy. I never have. My business is what I live for.”
“We have a lot in common. It’s kind of scary.”
“How so?”
“We both push people away.”
We sit together in comfortable silence and he doesn’t have to answer for me to know he agrees.
“I don’t want to push you away, Darcy,” he confesses softly. “Don’t let me.”
My pulse speeds double time at his desperate plea. I move back slightly to look at him, seeing what I expected to. Worry. Fear. Happiness. Wanting.
So much wanting.
Again, that’s something we have in common.
***
“So you still haven’t told me about your enemies,” I say, studying Benjamin’s face as he twirls a lock of my hair absentmindedly. We’re sprawled out on the floor next to a roaring fireplace. The clock by the hallway reads ten-thirty. I know I have to be getting home soon; I have work in the morning. We’ve barely touched each other tonight but I’m okay with that. It’s been nice to just talk, get to know him. His life is so interesting.
“I know I haven’t.” He smiles wide, his features completely free of worry for once.
“Well?” I press after a moment of ogling him.
He sighs. “This is confidential, Darcy. Agreed? This isn’t something you can—”
I scowl at his warning, resenting the deep sense of authority in his tone.
“Do you think I’d go run off and tell someone about this, Ben?” I could never betray him like that. When he doesn’t respond, I’m left blinking in disbelief. “You know, it’s getting late.”
I start to heave myself up, but he pulls me back down to his level. His expression is apologetic.
“I don’t trust easily, Darcy. I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t.”
“You don’t have to tell me, Benjamin, if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“I don’t have a choice. You’re my assistant, you need to know.” He props himself on his elbow and bites down on his lip contemplatively, his brows creased in thought.
“A year ago, I was in the process of dismantling a company. LandCorp. The owner, Henry Dower, was going bankrupt, although at one time, the company was exceedingly fortuitous in the market. Selling to me was his best choice, no matter how much he denied it. One day I walked into my apartment and his son was waiting here with a gun, saying we were harassing his father, forcing him to give up the one thing in his life that he loved. I tried to calm him down to stall until Dimitri made it up, but I couldn’t. He shot me.”
Holy shit. My choked gasp is the only other sound that fills the room except the burning embers of the fire. “No.”
He scoots away from me and pulls up his shirt, exposing his lower back to me. Sure enough, there is a small, pale scar just below his ribcage.
“Oh my god…Ben.”
I reach out to touch him but stop myself, not knowing how he’d react. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He turns back to me, a small smile on his face.
“I see where you’re coming from about this job being dangerous now.”
“It’s mainly me they’re pissed off with,” he tries to reassure me, although it doesn’t help.
“Has anyone else tried to hurt you like that?”
“Not as bad as that, but yes. Most of them are smart enough to realize that destroying my career would hurt me more, so they tend to go for that.” He raises his glass to his lips. “I protect myself though. Always. I have a team. You’ve probably heard about them through Doris.”
“Yes, your crisis team. They monitor everything. Emails, social media, looking for threats or anything potentially harmful to the company.” I recite Doris’s lecture, word for word. His expression morphs from informative to pleased within seconds.
“You’re a quick learner. It’s been fascinating to watch.” He leans forward, his fingers tracing my features ever-so-softly. My breath catches as he drags his thumb slowly across my bottom lip. “You’d be fantastic in PR work.”
“Thank you?” His face is so close to mine now.
“I have a feeling you’d excel at anything, though.”
He presses his lips to my forehead.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
His face splits into a full-blown grin and he nods, cupping my face. “I’m counting on it.”
His lips meet mine at that and I lose all control, shaken by the brutal strength of his passion. I curl my fingers into his long locks, urging him closer to me.
“Stay with me?” he asks, in between kisses.
“Yes.”
He helps me stand, which is no easy feat considering my legs have turned to Jell-O, and leads me to his bedroom. Without warning his hands are in my hair, destroying my bun. His long fingers become lodged between the pins so I move back to help him. My onyx-colored waves dangle down my back, ending just above my waist.
“I love your hair.” He encircles my waist with a strong arm to pull me into him, his lustful hands easing over my body until ending on the hem of my dress. In one swift movement, the dress is on the floor. I’m standing in just a bra and underwear, thanking my lucky stars that they’re matching and at least semi-sexy. Wanting to see all of him, I unbutton his crisp shirt while he undoes his cufflinks.
I remove his shirt, taking my time as I drink in the perfect specimen before me. He must work out like crazy to get this body. I lay my palms flat on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. It’s rather fast, making me wonder if he’s nervous to be with me as well. I tilt my head to give him access to my lips as I unbutton his pants. He moves back to pull them off. My eyes become completely transfixed on the sharp V that indents his body just below a deliciously defined abdomen. Suddenly, there is no space between our bodies and h
is lips are at my shoulder, his fingers working the back of my bra. It’s amazing how fast he can undo it…a thought I don’t want to dwell on for long. He drops it in the pile of our clothes, then hooks his fingers under the waistband of my underwear and pulls them off as well so I’m completely naked before him.
His hungry gaze slides down my body, and my cheeks redden at how unabashedly he’s watching me. He steps forward and I fall back onto the bed, pushing myself back to welcome him as well, but he doesn’t get on. Instead, he bends over the edge and his hand disappears between my legs.
“Are you wet for me?” His fingers glide easily through my arousal, shocking my nerves as he directs only a moment to my clit, teasingly. “Mm, you are.”
His body contorts like a predator as he begins to kneel, his stare burning a hole through my skin. I’m panting.
Am I panting?
It sounds like I am. I don’t know anymore.
His grip tight, he drags me to the edge of the mattress, forcing me to clutch the bed sheets for support. I nearly faint on the spot when I feel his mouth close delicately around my clit, suckling softly.
Oh my god.
He flicks his velvet tongue against the sensitive nub expertly, knowing exactly where to go to get me writhing against him.
“Oh god, Ben.” I drop back against the bed, unable to support myself anymore. “Please.”
When he eases a single finger into me, working his tongue over my folds, my muscles convulse, my mouth hanging open in abandon. My body tenses, not ready for the amount of pleasure that’s about to consume me. Crying out as his restless coaxing sends me over the edge, I drift deep into ecstasy. I’m moaning, lost in the abyss when he’s on top of me, his lips on mine, full of urgency. His hard cock is against my throbbing sex, coated in my arousal.
I grab his ass, pulling him into me so our bodies are flush against one another.
“Baby, wait. I need a condom.”
“I’m on the pill.”
“You are?” he questions, breathlessly. I nod dizzily as my hands memorize the long canvas of his back, admiring the dips and curves of his strength.
He positions himself against me. Yes. Oh please. He surges into me, knocking the breath right out of my lungs.
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