Nine Kinds of Naughty

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Nine Kinds of Naughty Page 22

by Jeanette Grey


  “We have the numbers. Our plan is solid.”

  “You know that, I know that. But my phone’s been ringing off the hook. If we don’t have a deal in hand to show them by the next meeting, it’s going to turn into a shit show.”

  She could only imagine. After their coup in the fall, they’d made some appointments, and most of the board was friendly, but there were a few hangers-on from her father’s day that could make their lives a living hell.

  Well, she’d just have to show them. She nodded to herself. “I’ll get it done.”

  “Great. Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

  Now all she had to figure out was how.

  “Ugh, seriously?” Mouth twisted in disgust, Lexie shoved the takeout box across the little desk in the corner of her suite.

  Dane winced. He’d had a feeling that might be coming.

  “I mean. What do people in this country have against vegetables?”

  “I got you the closest thing to a salad they had on the menu.”

  She pointed at the open box. “Does that look like a salad to you?”

  Unwrapping one of the little plastic forks, he poked at the contents. “See? There’s some lettuce. I think.”

  “Hiding three leaves under a half-pound log of goat cheese is not a salad.”

  “I know, I know.” He made to grab the box. “I’ll call and have them bring another one.”

  With a hand on his wrist she stopped him. “Don’t bother. It won’t be any better.”

  He paused. “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Just . . .” She stayed there, thumb stroking against his skin.

  The urge to say something clawed at his throat, but for all that it was eight o’clock at night, she was still firmly planted in work mode, which meant she was the boss.

  It was nearly the end of their second week in Barcelona, and it had been an experience, trying to negotiate their roles. Right after their weekend off, she’d seemed ready to take on the world with even more determination than usual, but also with a groundedness that had been new. Since then, though, something had happened that had put some of the lines back around her eyes, a bit of the heaviness to her posture.

  But even so. For the most part, she’d left the office for lunch and clocked out entirely before supper—and that difference couldn’t have been more stark if she had literally punched a card and taken off a uniform. Their nights were theirs in a way they hadn’t been before. They went out and they stayed in, and they fucked in every position and combination he could think of, and he wasn’t even close to getting bored.

  He was probably starting to get a little too used to it, to be honest.

  Tonight, though, he was seeing more of the Lexie from New York, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

  He swallowed hard. Time to take a risk.

  Twisting his wrist in her grip, he shifted them until his hand covered hers. He crouched down until they were at least a little closer to being eye to eye. Less him physically lording over her while she metaphorically did.

  “Ms. Bellamy. Lexie.” He caressed her knuckles and sucked in a breath. “Sweetheart. What’s going on?”

  Something in her expression melted, just a fraction. “It’s nothing. Just. Work stuff.”

  “And I’m your employee. Tell me.”

  “I feel like you’re maybe trying to be more than that right now.”

  She wasn’t wrong. Wasn’t that one of her big issues from the very start of this? She hadn’t wanted to blur lines. He’d done his best to uphold her wishes around the office, but they weren’t there right now. She’d packed up and brought them back to her hotel, and yes, she was still working, sort of. But couldn’t she let the line be anything less than clear?

  “Maybe,” he conceded. “Is that a problem?”

  “I kind of feel like it should be.”

  “Why?”

  She rolled her eyes and gave a little laugh, moving as if to pull her hand away, but he held on. “It’s a long story, okay?”

  And this . . . this felt like something. She’d let him inside her in so many ways, but talking about herself wasn’t really one of them.

  He chose his words carefully. “I’ve got plenty of time. Look.” He glanced at her discarded salad. “It might be less healthy than you’d prefer it to be, but our dinner is here. Why don’t you take a break. Have a bite to eat. And talk to me.”

  The corner of her mouth wavered, flickering between a hint of a smile and a frown.

  “Just a break. I still have a lot to do tonight.”

  “Once we’re done, I’ll be right here to help.”

  The strangest look passed over her face. He held his breath, not quite sure what was to come. But after a second, her features smoothed out, and when she took back her hand this time, he let her. Standing, she reached for her food.

  He exhaled in a whoosh. All right. He could work with this.

  “Perfect.”

  Relocating everything to the coffee table in front of the couch was the work of a moment. Once she was settled, she opened up her dinner again. She gave it the same disappointed look but dug in regardless.

  Finally, in a leading tone, he said, “So?”

  “So?”

  “So what’s going on besides you and your ongoing crusade to improve the Spanish diet?”

  She stabbed sullenly at one of the few pieces of lettuce hiding under all the cheese. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “Lexie.”

  “Ugh. It’s—” She dropped her fork into the box. “The board is giving Rylan a hard time, so now he’s breathing down my neck. He wants the deal hammered out ASAP, and it’s already Thursday, and you know exactly how much we’re going to get done once tomorrow afternoon hits.”

  “Ah.”

  “And he’s willing to walk away and all, but this was my project, my idea.”

  “So you want to see it through.”

  “I want to see it save the company.”

  Oh. He regarded her for a moment. “Does it need saving?”

  Sure, any company could always be doing better, but he was in the books on a daily basis. He hadn’t seen any new signs that the place was really struggling.

  She let out a sad ghost of a laugh. “It feels like it always does.” She swept her hand across her face, lingering at her ear, where she tucked aside a strand of hair that had gotten loose from her updo. Her gaze met his. “You know, last year, before my brother came home?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Dane had started just before then, and he’d been placed in Lexie’s office slightly after. At least he knew the broad strokes.

  “He was gone for a year. Off fucking around Paris, generally being an irresponsible brat. Evan was off at school, and my dad . . .”

  Ah. So they were going there. He gave her a second before prompting. “Your dad?”

  “He was in prison.”

  That part of the story Dane knew intimately. The first time he’d seen behind Lexie’s strong outer walls had been the day they’d visited him at the penitentiary upstate. He’d been rude and dismissive, and Lexie had stormed out almost in tears. Dane had followed her, wanting to do something, anything.

  He’d wanted to hold her. But they hadn’t been there yet.

  They were now.

  He set down his own food and then reached out to take hers. She gave it up willingly. Sitting back, he pulled her in against his side, and it didn’t even matter who they were right now. If he was her Dom or if she was his boss. If maybe they were each a little bit of both.

  He gave her a minute, rubbing her arm. Then he said, “So it was just you?”

  “Pretty much. That company had been Dad’s entire life. He wanted to hand it off to Rylan, but Rylan was so weird about the whole thing. He’s good at the business stuff, you know?” At her prompting, Dane hummed, nodding. “But the easiest way to get my brother to dig his heels in is to tell him he has to.”

  Dane swallowed. He understood that a little too well.

  “So it was up to
me, and I just . . . I got so fixated. Obsessed, really. I’d always wanted to run the place, but not like that. Not when there was no other choice. Rylan would barely answer my calls. I’d go to visit Dad and he’d barely look at me, and Jor—” She cut herself off suddenly. “The guy I was seeing. He called things off exactly when I needed him the most.”

  It was all Dane could do to keep his hold on her light, when his grip wanted to be crushing. “Did he realize that?”

  “I don’t know how he couldn’t have. We were—we were going to do it together, is the thing. He . . . worked at Bellamy.”

  Oh. That was why she was so squirrelly about it.

  Maybe why she’d been so hesitant about him.

  He flexed his jaw. “So you thought he’d be at your side at work and at home.”

  Her throat bobbed. “Pretty much.” Something was off about her tone. “Naïve, huh?”

  “I don’t know about that.” It wasn’t something he’d ever imagined he would want for himself. At the end of the workday, he just wanted to take off his suit and slip back into his own skin. But that was before Lexie had become a part of his nights. She wasn’t the only one in their relationship blurring lines.

  Sighing, she huddled into herself. “Well, it was too much to ask of him, apparently. I ended up all alone in both places.”

  “I’m sorry. That sounds really hard.”

  She shrugged. “The worst part was the way people looked at me after. We tried to keep everything quiet, but there’s always gossip. So there I was, this twenty-three-year-old girl trying to step into Daddy’s and big brother’s shoes, and everybody seems to know I’ve been sleeping with this guy, and then I get dumped by him. I just— I felt like everybody was judging me.”

  A low fire lit in his belly. He’d heard only the vaguest of mutterings about that at the time. Now he wanted to go back and punch every person who had dared to talk that kind of shit. The people who had hurt her.

  Who had made this brave, strong woman so afraid.

  And he didn’t want to make this about him. He really didn’t. But . . . “Which is why you were so worried about you and me getting caught.”

  “Basically. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” She had every right to be concerned.

  “I am, though. People are people, but this thing we’re doing—it’s . . . different.”

  He’d like to think so. But was it? She was still sleeping with an employee. If they ever found out, the gossips would talk, and she was a young woman in power. People could be so unfair.

  His throat was sandpaper as he rubbed her shoulder, pulling her close. “You know I’d never leave you in the lurch like that.”

  It was too early for promises, but he felt like he could make that one, at least. Whatever they were to each other, he’d never abandon her. He’d never intentionally leave her to the wolves.

  “I know.” She put her hand over his and squeezed. And there was this depth to her voice. Like maybe, to her own surprise, she actually believed him.

  The moment held, until finally, she dropped his hand. Her posture shifted, her tone lightening. “Anyway, that’s a long way to say I’ve been handling the business for a while now, and I’ve done it all on my own. It’s great to have Rylan back, but I wish he’d trust me.”

  It was the least subtle subject change imaginable. Part of him wanted to press for more. She opened up so rarely, and he was greedy for every scrap of the woman behind the perfectly manicured exterior. But she’d already shown him more than usual—probably more than she usually showed to anyone.

  So he let the conversation shift. “He does.” Her brother’s confidence in her was clear. “You should see the way he looks to you before he makes any decision.”

  “Except this one. I don’t know. I just really want this to work out.”

  “Then we’ll make it work out.” He squeezed her shoulder, and fuck, what the hell was possessing him? But the word spilled out of him. “Together.”

  She turned, gaze meeting his, and he could drown in the blue of her eyes. They were soft, the edges of them shining, and maybe sharing time wasn’t over after all. Voice rough, she said, “I’d like that.”

  He felt like she was saying more than just those words, like the moment was bigger than even he realized. But all he could relay was, “Me, too.”

  He bent his neck to kiss her, tempted to get lost in the warmth of her mouth, the way she opened to him that was so much more than physical.

  But he’d made her a promise just now. Smiling against her lips, he pulled away before the heat could build. “Come on. Let’s finish up here so you can get back to work.”

  “So we can get back to work.” Conviction colored her tone—along with some soft wisp of hope that made his stomach twist.

  Right. Work. This job he’d never wanted, but that somehow . . . someway . . . had brought him more than he could have possibly dreamed.

  “You know,” Dane called, closing the door after setting the remains of their supper out in the hallway to be cleared. “I have an idea.”

  “What’s that?” Lexie hadn’t quite managed to pry herself off the couch yet. It was one of the reasons she’d been reluctant to take a break for dinner. Once she stopped, it was that much harder to get herself going again.

  The hour’s respite had been good, though. If there was one thing she’d learned these past couple of weeks with Dane, it was that she needed to rest and relax sometimes. The perspective and the energy it gave her made up for the lost time.

  And she was just . . . happier. It was a novel concept.

  Before she could dwell on it too much, Dane reappeared around the corner, heading toward the sink in the kitchenette to wash his hands. “I think, tomorrow night, I should cook for you.”

  Her eyebrows made a break for her hairline. “You cook?”

  “I’m no expert, but I have a few things in my repertoire.”

  She never would have pegged him for the type. Hell, she could barely boil water. “Such as?”

  “I grill a mean steak. Roast some potatoes to go with it, or throw it on a salad. Or maybe a stir-fry? Chicken and veggies?”

  “Wait—a meal that isn’t just cheese?”

  “Hard to believe, I know. Remember that market we went to last weekend? All kinds of fresh produce stands. I’ll even brave them for you again.”

  She groaned, flopping backward on the couch. “I have this sudden, intense desire to blow you right now.”

  He turned off the water and dried his hands, then crossed the room to her. He extended his palm. “As much as I’d enjoy that, I promised we’d get some work done first.”

  “Yeah. You did.” No small amount of wonder crept into her voice.

  He’d really meant it, hadn’t he? They were going to work on this together—make this acquisition happen, satisfy Rylan and do right by the company she’d been trying so hard to save all on her own.

  This raw, wounded place in her heart clenched hard. All she’d ever wanted in life was a partner. Jordan had made her believe that was a fantasy, but Dane was bringing it back to life. The idea that he really intended to stay by her side, both in the office and at home, was making her dizzy. It felt too good to be true.

  And yet. Something about Dane let her dare to hope it could be.

  “You know,” she said, accepting the hand up as she rose to her feet, “for someone who wasn’t sure he wanted to come on this trip at all, you’ve really been invested since you got here.”

  He gave a bit of a wince, and she could almost believe he regretted those protests he’d made the eve of their departure. It transformed quickly into a smirk, though, and that turned into a leer. “I guess I found my motivation somewhere along the way.”

  “I guess you did.” Was it too much to hope that what was building between them off hours was affecting his job—for the better? She tested the waters. “Keep this up and I might have to promote you.”

  “The hardship.”

  Her heart
fluttered. She tried again to school it, to remind herself that this whole thing was way too new. She was practically doodling their names together on the masthead, and yeah, that might be her dream, but she had to be realistic. Focus on the now. On the work.

  “Come on.” She reclaimed her seat at the desk and brought her laptop to life. “Let’s take a look at some of the new buyout language they sent over . . .”

  She trailed off. When Dane had dragged her over to the couch for supper, she’d left her phone behind. She checked the alerts mindlessly, out of habit more than anything else. She frowned. Two missed calls from her brother Evan.

  That was weird. Their strained conversation at the museum the other day should have met their quota for actual phone conversations for weeks. Hell, at this point in his semester, maybe a month.

  “Everything okay?” Dane asked.

  God, she still got caught off guard sometimes by his presence. A man that large shouldn’t be able to sneak up on anything, but somehow he’d managed to step in right behind her, his hand on the back of her chair and the warmth of his chest seeping into her spine. She reached over her shoulder, putting her palm over his.

  “Yeah, probably.” She hesitated, scrunching up her brow. “I don’t know.” Twisting her neck, she looked into his eyes. “Do you mind if I quick try and call my brother back?”

  “Rylan?”

  “No.” Without waiting for him to actually say it was okay, she squeezed his fingers and let go, using her other hand to dial.

  Absently, she rose from her chair and paced her way across the room. Every ring made the pit of her abdomen squirm. By the third one, she stood before the awful painting she’d snapped a picture of for her brother when she’d first arrived in this country. She cracked her knuckles and held her breath.

  Something was wrong.

  Finally, the line picked up. “Hello?”

  She did a double take. That wasn’t her brother’s voice. The swirling pit that had been her stomach lurched. “Where’s Evan?”

  “May I ask to whom I’m speaking?”

  Oh God. “Lexie. Alexis Bellamy. His sister.”

  His next of kin. The emergency contact on his phone.

  There was a moment’s pause and the sound of flipping pages. “Right. Ms. Bellamy, you’ve reached San Francisco General Hospital. I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”

 

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