Sex, Lies and the CEO

by Barbara Dunlop

  “I meant in the next few hours.”

  “You’ve got something planned for the next few hours?” Justin teased.

  “Quit fishing for details.”

  “Toss me a bone. I’m stuck talking to accountants.”

  “Have fun.” Shane hit the end button. He abandoned the phone. Taking the wine bottle in one hand and the glasses in the other, he joined Darci outside.

  “Chateau Montagne 1999,” he said as he poured at a small cedar table.

  “Should I be impressed?”

  “You should.” He handed her a glass.

  “Expensive?” she asked.

  “It is, but that’s not the most important factor.”

  “What is the most important factor?”

  “It’s delicious.”

  She grinned. “Then I’m impressed.”

  He set his glass on the edge of the tub and climbed in, facing her. “And my mission is complete.”

  Her expression faltered.

  “My mission to impress you with wine,” he quickly added. “Not—”

  “To have sex with me?”

  “No. That wasn’t a mission.”

  She waited.

  “It was a...an aspiration.”

  “Semantics.”

  He wasn’t going to lie. He’d wanted her in his bed from the first night he’d met her. His feelings hadn’t changed, but it was more complicated now.

  “It’s the cosmetics of the situation, right?” he asked, wanting to be certain of her concerns.

  “The cosmetics?”

  “You’re worried that it will look like you’re sleeping your way to the top, or that I coerced you into my bed.”

  Her tone turned flippant. “Am I sleeping my way to the top?”

  “Darci.”

  “Where exactly is the top?”

  “Stop it. I’m not worried about your behavior. I’m worried about mine.” He couldn’t live with himself if he’d inadvertently said or done anything that made her feel compelled to sleep with him.

  “You’re already at the top, Shane.”

  She was evading the question, and it triggered a reflexive alarm bell. Had she felt compelled to sleep with him?

  He wanted to be crystal clear. “If I wasn’t your boss, if I wasn’t president of Colborn, would you be here?”

  “If you weren’t president of Colborn Aerospace, I never would have crashed your party and met you.”

  “You crashed my party?”

  Her expression faltered again. “File clerks weren’t on the invitation list.”

  He slowed down the conversation with a sip of his wine. He had to think about this. He didn’t want to default to suspicion, but their initial meeting hadn’t been accidental.

  “You didn’t answer the question,” he couldn’t help but note.

  His worry had now switched from him accidentally coercing her to her deliberately manipulating him. He truly hated having this conversation, but he wasn’t about to get duped again.

  “Would you be here if I wasn’t a billionaire?” he asked.

  She was silent for so long that he feared he was right.

  “Shane, the biggest downside to me sleeping with you is that you’re the billionaire president of Colborn Aerospace.”

  “You’re not looking to marry rich?”

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  “I want you to answer the question.”

  “No. I’m not looking to marry rich. And if I was, I’d probably lie about it, so this interrogation is next to useless.”

  “I know you’d lie,” said Shane. People lied to him all the time. “It’s not what you say that counts. I’m gauging your expression and intonation.”

  Her jaw snapped tight. “You know, if I wasn’t naked, I’d probably storm out of here in some grand, self-righteous exit.”

  “Then thank goodness you’re naked.”

  For a second, he thought he’d gone too far.

  But to his surprise, instead of leaving she took up her wine.

  “You’re right not to trust people,” she said. “They’re inherently untrustworthy. Everyone’s got an agenda.”

  Now she had him intrigued. “Do you have an agenda?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Will you share it with me?”

  She gazed at her glass. “In the short term, my agenda has a lot to do with Chateau Montagne.”

  “So, you’re not angry?”

  “That you’re a suspicious man?” She shook her head. “No.”

  She was both surprising and refreshing. Just when he thought he had her pegged, she’d take a sharp left and throw him off balance. This was definitely a woman worth getting to know.

  “How do you feel about France?” he asked.

  “As a wine-making country?”

  “As a tourism destination. Paris, specifically.”

  “What’s not to like about Paris?”

  “Have you ever been there?”

  The question seemed to amuse her. “I have not.”

  He took the plunge. “I’m going to Paris on business tomorrow. Want to come along?”

  “I have to work.”

  “I can take care of that.”

  “See, that’s exactly what we’re not going to do. I’m not ditching work and flying across the Atlantic with the big boss.”

  “You need to take that job with Tuck.”

  “Shane, you barely know me. You know next to nothing about me. And now that you’ve—” she glanced meaningfully down at her naked body “—made your conquest...”

  “Whoa.” He was insulted.

  “I’m not naive.”

  Okay, now he was the one getting angry. “This wasn’t about a conquest, Darci.”

  She studied his expression. “I believe you believe that.”

  “And you think I’m cynical.”

  “It’s not cynical to be realistic. Go to Paris and let your hormones calm down. Come back. If you still want to see me, you know where I’ll be.”

  “Come here.”

  ”Why?”

  “Because you’re talking like a crazy person. I want to remind you of what we’ve got.”

  “You mean lust?”

  “Cynic.” He crooked his finger and motioned her over.

  She didn’t move. “You’ll leave my job alone. No more talk about me working for Tuck.”

  “If that’s what you want. Then no more talk about Tuck.”

  “I mean it, Shane. No raises or promotions, either.”

  “You are so refreshing.”

  “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “Most women beg me to help them.”

  “I’m not most women.”

  “No kidding. Now get over here. Bring your wine. You’re staying in my arms for a while.”

  Eight

  “So, did I just make the biggest mistake of my life?” Darci finished the story the next day, sitting at her computer across from Jennifer, in front of the reflective windows in the main room of their loft.

  “Maybe not the biggest,” said Jennifer as she dragged and clicked her mouse.

  The two desks were identical and faced each other, allowing the women to work and talk at the same time. They’d skipped right through lunch, and she was hungry. But Darci was determined to finish setting up a series of photos for a high-end hotel chain before she called it a day.

  “But it was big.” She was trying hard to regret making love with Shane, but so far it wasn’t working.

  “Depends on how you look at it.”

  “I made love with Shane Colborn.” There was only one way to look at it. Jennifer needed to te
ll her she’d been wrong.

  “It might get you some additional snooping opportunities,” said Jennifer, a meaningful expression on her face. “I mean, now that you’ve broken the ice.”

  “I didn’t do it for that.”

  “I know you didn’t.”

  “I wouldn’t do it for that.”

  “But, you have to admit, it does open up some interesting possibilities. You might not have spent the night in his penthouse. But you could spend one in his mansion.”

  “I already decided not to.” Darci had drawn herself an ethical line. She sincerely hoped she wouldn’t cross it.

  “You know where the records are now. It might get you there in one fell swoop.”

  “And if he catches me?”

  Jennifer stopped working. “He’s going to catch you, Darci. And if he doesn’t catch you, you’re going to find the drawings and tell him the truth. There’s only one way this ends.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you?”

  “I shouldn’t have made love with him.”

  “Maybe not. But you did. And you’re going to have to be tough about this. Think of it as a one-night stand.”

  “Right.” Women had one-night stands. They did it all the time. Some of them did it with Shane Colborn.

  “Have you never had a one-night stand?” asked Jennifer.

  “You don’t think I would have mentioned it?”

  Jennifer gave a shrug. “I didn’t.”

  The apparent confession shocked Darci. “You had a one-night stand?”

  “Yes.”

  “With who?”

  “With Ashton.”

  Darci waved the answer away. “Then it wasn’t a one-night stand.”

  “It was at the time. It was the first night we met. I never thought I’d see him again.”

  A knock sounded on the apartment door.

  Both women looked to the sound.

  “Could it be Shane?” asked Jennifer in a hushed voice.

  “He’s on his way to France.” Darci hesitated. “Unless.”

  Was she a fool to let her guard down? Half her secret was already out. Maybe he’d figured out the rest. Maybe he was angry enough to postpone the trip. Maybe this was the end.

  “I’ll talk to him,” said Jennifer, rising from her chair. “You hide somewhere.”

  “I’m not climbing under the bed or cowering in the closet.” If Darci was caught, she’d have to deal with it. She wasn’t about to make the situation farcical.

  “At least stand to one side,” said Jennifer. “I’ll tell him you’re not here, buy you some time.”

  Darci moved from the line of sight.

  The knock sounded again, and Jennifer went for the door.

  Darci held her breath, bracing herself for Shane’s angry voice.

  “Ashton?” Jennifer’s tone held obvious surprise.

  Darci scrambled out from the corner.

  “I only want to talk,” said Ashton.

  “Go away,” Darci called.

  But she was too late. Jennifer had opened the door to her ex.

  “Back off, Darci,” said Ashton.

  “You need to leave her alone,” said Darci, linking arms with Jennifer.

  “It’s okay,” said Jennifer.

  “This is not a good idea.”

  “I might as well get it over with,” said Jennifer

  “If you’re sure,” said Darci.

  “I’m sure,” said Jennifer. “But you stay, okay?”

  Darci was thankful for small mercies. She reluctantly stepped aside.

  Ashton closed the door behind him.

  Nobody moved, and nobody said anything. The silence stretched to uncomfortable.

  Ashton finally asked, “Can we sit down or something?”

  “It’s probably better if you just talk,” said Darci, earning a glare from him.

  Jennifer let out an exaggerated sigh. “Let’s sit down.” She looked at Darci. “A drink wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world.”

  “Sure.” Though Darci could use some fortification herself, she chafed at the idea of being hospitable to Ashton.

  He took one end of the sofa, while Jennifer perched on the armchair across from him.

  Darci went to the kitchen to hunt up some liquor.

  “I know what you think you saw,” Ashton opened.

  “She was in your arms, Ashton. She was half-naked.”

  Darci’s heart went out to Jennifer, and her annoyance at Ashton ramped up.

  “She came on to me, he said.”

  “They always do,” said Jennifer in an admirably even tone.

  “Nothing happened,” he said.

  “Only because I showed up.”

  “No, not only because you showed up,” he stated with conviction. “Nothing would have happened anyway.”

  “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

  Darci forced herself to get to work on the drinks, taking three highball glasses from a top cupboard.

  “One of us already knows,” said Ashton. “Do you honestly think I’d sneak off into a bedroom in the middle of a party to cheat on you?”

  “You thought I’d left.”

  Darci knew that Jennifer had left the party, ticked off at Ashton for flirting with the other woman. But Jennifer had forgotten her jacket and had come back to find the two of them together.

  “I wasn’t flirting,” he said.

  “Yes, you were. But that’s not what set me over the edge.”

  “I was talking. Maybe she was flirting, but women do that all the time.”

  Jen scoffed out a laugh. “Because you’re so irresistible?”

  “I have no idea why they do it. I was coming after you, you know.”

  “By way of a bedroom?”

  His tone went hard. “My jacket was in that bedroom. So was yours. So was everyone else’s. If I was going to have sex with another woman, don’t you think I would have picked somewhere with a little less traffic?”

  Jennifer didn’t answer immediately, and Darci opened the liquor cabinet and located a bottle of dark rum. Not her favorite, but she remembered Ashton hated rum. Maybe it would hurry him on his way.

  “How am I supposed to know what you’d do?” asked Jennifer.

  “She followed me into the bedroom. Then she pulled off her top.”

  Darci turned to the fridge and extracted a bottle of lemon-lime soda and a jug of orange juice.

  “Next thing I knew, she was kissing me,” said Ashton. “If you’d watched for another five seconds, you’d have seen me push her away.”

  “I was afraid to watch for another five seconds,” said Jennifer.

  Darci knew in her heart he had to be lying, but he came across as sincere. She could only hope that Jennifer wasn’t being swayed.

  She added ice cubes to the drinks and carried two of the glasses into the living room.

  Ashton frowned at the drink.

  “Rum punch,” said Darci.

  Jennifer hid an involuntary smile and took a sip. “Yum.”

  “Thanks.” Ashton’s voice was flat.

  Darci ignored the tone. “No problem.”

  She returned to the kitchen to retrieve her own drink.

  “You hounded me for three weeks to say that?” asked Jennifer.

  Darci was heartened by the skepticism in her tone.

  “It’s the truth,” said Ashton, again managing an impressive level of sincerity.

  “I don’t believe you,” said Jennifer.

  “I know.” He took a drink of the punch and grimaced. “But I had to try.”

  Darci returned to the living area, quietly taking the opposite
end of the sofa. She knew she shouldn’t be here for this intimate conversation, but she was afraid to leave Jennifer alone with him.

  Silence stretched again.

  “I’m sorry,” said Jennifer.

  Darci wanted to ask why. But she took a sip of the drink instead. She grimaced. It was terrible.

  “You don’t need to be sorry,” Ashton said to Jennifer. “I completely understand why you reacted the way you did. I don’t blame you. In your shoes, I’d have thought the same thing. Of course, I’d have taken the guy’s head off.”

  Despite herself, Darci felt her sympathies engage with Ashton. He looked sincerely wounded. Jennifer’s expression relaxed, as well, her eyes softening.

  Uh-oh. This was how he did it every time.

  “You’d never find her in that situation,” said Darci, overwhelmed by the urge to defend her friend.

  Ashton sent her a dark look.

  “This is how he does it. He puts on that hurt-puppy-dog look, tells you he understands your feelings, that it was circumstances that conspired against him, and you’re right back on the merry-go-round.”

  “It’s different,” said Ashton.

  Darci struggled not to speak. She sat back and took a big swallow of her drink. It didn’t taste so bad this time.

  “You better go,” said Jennifer. “I listened...but you better go.”

  Ashton frowned.

  “Please,” said Jennifer.

  “I can’t.”

  “You have to.”

  He polished off the drink and rose from the couch. “I didn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it. I’m not perfect, but I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

  Darci rose. “Let her go,” she told him.

  “It’s different,” Ashton said to Jennifer. “You’re different. Or maybe I’m different.”

  “I can’t,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “I get that now. And I know it’s all my fault.” He pivoted and crossed the room.

  As the door slammed shut behind him, Jennifer’s shoulders slumped.

  “Are you okay?” Darci asked.

  “Does that scare you?” Jennifer asked. “It should scare you.”

  “Me?”

  “I’ve been talking too tough.”

  “With Ashton?” Darci struggled to understand.

  “With Shane. I’ve been giving you this flip, simplistic advice for dealing with Shane, ignoring how your emotions might get muddled up. And now you’re wandering into danger.”