by Erika Wilde
He’d overwhelmed her with glorious sensations, and she couldn’t remember being so satisfied by an orgasm. But that immense pleasure had been negated by the fact that he’d completely shut down afterward. There had been so much turmoil in his eyes when he’d abruptly told her I need to go that she’d believed him, because for a reason she hadn’t figured out yet, he seemed desperate to escape more than what had just happened between them. She still found it all so confusing.
She hadn’t seen Remy in person since that night, but she’d spoken to him a few times on the phone—when she’d finally purchased the perfect building for Wilder Things—to give him the property address located in a trendy, up-and-coming area of Williamsburg so he could pull the original structural plans from the city to see exactly what he had to work with. And another call about a week ago when he had some questions about what she’d envisioned for the bar on the ground level and the hotel rooms above. He’d forwarded the contract and the estimated costs for the project by email for her to sign online. He’d kept everything about their interaction strictly business, as if he hadn’t ruined her for all other men the night of the ball before walking out on her.
But late tomorrow afternoon, they had their first face-to-face meeting at his office for the two of them to discuss the preliminary design plans and drawings he’d already done and any changes she wanted to make. Nothing was official until she had the keys to the building and permits were pulled, but she felt as though the main groundwork would be laid out for Remy and his crew to get started as soon as possible once she approved his ideas. And seeing him in person again would at least give her the chance to confront him about his behavior two months ago.
The buzzing of her cell phone vibrating against her drafting table pulled her from her thoughts, and she unlocked the screen so she could read the message that had just come through.
I’m on my way up to your place.
Tempest smiled at the courtesy text from Maddux’s fiancée, Arabella Cole, still unable to believe that the daughter of Theodore Cole—the man who’d killed their parents—was now engaged to her previously moody, driven-to-destroy brother who’d once only had contempt and scorn for the Cole family. What a crazy difference two months and a fairy-tale ball made, she thought, so incredibly happy that Maddux had found his happily ever after with Arabella—the beauty to his beast—as had Hunter with Elaina “Elle” Darian that night of the ball. The fact that Hunter had been able to track down the woman who’d disappeared on him after a night together based on the crystal shoe she’d left behind was straight out of a Cinderella story.
But both of her siblings’ paths to happiness hadn’t been easy. Maddux had been shot while trying to protect Arabella, which had scared the shit out of all of them. The entire situation had induced the same kind of terror and fear she’d felt when her parents had been killed, but thank God he’d recovered and was already back to work in the MadX-Tech offices. And Hunter had essentially saved Elle from her evil stepmother’s schemes, but not before he’d almost lost her for good.
Things in the Wilder household had finally settled down, and she loved that both of her brothers were becoming domesticated, when they’d both sworn they’d never settle down with one woman. Tempest didn’t want to think about where that left her. At times, she felt like the odd man out when they all had dinner together since she was the only single sibling around two ridiculously happy couples.
Then again, her life right now was so incredibly busy. Between Wilder Passion increasing in subscribers at a rapid pace and the construction for Wilder Things starting very soon, she really didn’t have time to devote to a committed relationship. However, having what she knew would be the most earth-shattering sex of her life with one particular hot, sexy contractor she suspected was her unicorn guy? Absolutely. But Remy had made it abundantly clear that night two months ago, when he could have easily taken her right there up against the wall but had left instead, that it wasn’t going to happen.
Hearing the chime of the elevator arriving on her floor, Tempest set her pencil on her current sketch to finish later, grateful for the distraction from her thoughts of Remy, which unfortunately filtered through her mind on a daily basis . . . and especially at night when she relived the way he’d taken command of her body and her pleasure. Reenacting that encounter in her head while she was alone in bed got her off every single time . . . yet left her wanting so much more.
With a sigh, Tempest walked out to the living room just as Arabella arrived, holding a huge bouquet of roses. The arrangement was so large it nearly covered her upper body, and Arabella had to hold the vase to the side to see where she was going.
As soon as Tempest saw the flowers, she groaned, already knowing who they were from . . . and just like the other arrangements that had been delivered at various times over the past two months, she’d send these to the nearby retirement home for the elderly residents to enjoy, as well. They were too beautiful to go into the trash, and she didn’t want the reminder of Kyle and his hopeful gestures all around her place. She’d already asked him not to send any more flowers, but her polite requests had fallen on deaf ears.
“Hey, Bella,” Tempest said, using the shortened version of her name that Maddux had given her. In a very brief time, they’d already become good friends, and with Elle, as well.
“Hi!” Arabella replied cheerfully. Considering everything she’d been through, both with Maddux and her own father, the other woman was always so upbeat and had such a great attitude. “I was visiting your brother down at the office, and this delivery came for you, so I thought I’d drop it off since I was heading up to our place,” she said of the penthouse on the top floor of the building, where Arabella now lived with Maddux. “They’re gorgeous. Who’s the secret admirer?”
Tempest rolled her eyes as Arabella set the crystal-cut vase on the coffee table. There was a card tucked between the gorgeous petals, but she didn’t bother to touch it because it didn’t matter what was written inside. “It’s no secret. It’s Kyle. Again.”
“Oh.” Arabella put her hands on her tiny hips. She was petite, and Maddux looked like a giant next to her. “Well, he’s certainly persistent . . . or maybe obsessed?”
Tempest laughed. “That’s one way to look at it. He’s one of those guys who just won’t take no for an answer because he thinks he’s that charming, but he hasn’t crossed any lines that scream stalker or creeper, if you know what I mean?”
“Aww, he’s infatuated with you.”
“Actually, I think he’s just spoiled and really wants what he can’t have,” she said, because it didn’t matter how many times she’d turned down his invitations to have a drink together, or to go to a Broadway play where tickets were near impossible to get, or to have dinner with his parents so they could meet her, or that Tempest insisted they were just friends, he kept trying to find new ways to entice her.
As much as Kyle’s overtures were a pain in her ass, Tempest didn’t have it in her to be rude and to tell him to basically fuck off. She’d been as direct and candid as possible with him and her feelings—or lack thereof—without crossing that line into being a total bitch, and she was really hoping he’d eventually get tired of her excuses, along with her many assertions that she wasn’t interested in dating him, and move on.
“I saw Elle this morning on our way to work,” Arabella said, changing the subject, thank goodness. “She mentioned escrow on your building closes next week and you’ll finally have the keys to get in there and get started on Wilder Things. We’re both so excited for you.”
Elle owned a realty company and had helped broker the deal for the property that Tempest had purchased. “Thank you. I’m meeting with the contractor tomorrow to discuss preliminary designs.”
“I can’t wait to see how this place turns out,” she said, then glanced at her cell phone, seemingly to check the time. “I need to get going. I promised Maddux that I’d make beef stroganoff for dinner tonight, and that’s going to take me some ti
me.”
Tempest smiled, feeling a wave of melancholy wash over her. “That was Maddy’s favorite thing that my mother cooked.”
“I know,” Arabella said softly. “He told me that, and a lot of things about your parents, who seemed like really amazing people.”
“They really were.” Tempest was impressed with her brother, who’d harbored so much hate and resentment for so long after their mother and father had died. He’d come a long way if he was openly sharing things about his past and the good memories they had of their parents. Especially with Arabella. Then again, this woman was going to be his wife, and none of them looked at her and saw their greatest enemy’s daughter. No, she was just sweet and kind Arabella with a heart of pure gold.
“Speaking of making dinner,” Tempest said, suddenly remembering one of the annual Wilder Way events that was coming up. “Next month, I’m putting on a spaghetti dinner for all the kids and families the foundation has helped this past year. I’ve done it annually for a while now and it’s a great way to bring the community together.”
Arabella’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands in front of her. “That sounds like fun.”
Tempest laughed at the other woman’s enthusiasm. “I’m glad you think so, because I’m going to need both you and Elle to persuade my brothers to help out at the dinner. Every year they’ve come up with some kind of excuse to get out of it and think writing a big check for all the food is their way of contributing, but it would be really nice for all of us to be there and have a hand in serving everyone.”
“I love that idea,” Arabella said, then grinned a bit playfully. “And no worries about persuading Maddux. I know just the thing to make him cave and agree.”
Tempest did not want to know details, but clearly Arabella had Maddux wrapped securely around her finger. All that mattered to her was that they were all there together at the dinner, representing the Wilder Way Foundation as a family.
Even if she was the only one without a significant other standing beside her.
CHAPTER SIX
Remy arrived at the Lowell Construction office fifteen minutes late for his scheduled meeting with Tempest to go over the preliminary drawings for Wilder Things. It had been a long day helping his crew on a jobsite to bring a project in on time and on budget, and though he’d left early, there had been an accident on the highway and traffic had been a nightmare.
He hated being late for any appointment, and he was filthy, too. He thought he’d given himself enough time to get cleaned up before her arrival. He had dirt and dust covering him from head to toe, his boots were crusted with mud, and he smelled like sweat and hard physical labor. He cringed at his grimy appearance. Not how he’d intended to greet Tempest. When he met with clients at the office, he preferred not to reek like a barnyard animal and strived to look somewhat professional.
He parked his work truck in his designated space and strode toward the mixed-use building he’d purchased after his divorce. It was in a middle-income area of Brooklyn and nothing fancy, but the property conveniently provided both commercial and residential space in one. And this place was one of the few things he’d been able to afford on his tight budget after his ex-wife had left him with very little cash in the bank. Considering the higher-end clients he was now accumulating, he knew he really needed to find a nicer office complex. He’d just been so busy he hadn’t had the time.
He walked into the first floor of the building, which he’d turned into an office. Sally, his fifty-five-year-old secretary who had been with him since the beginning of Lowell Construction, sat at her desk, her fingers flying across the keyboard in front of her computer at a pace that always amazed Remy. Beyond her he’d partitioned three separate areas. A private office for him, a conference-type room where he drew up plans, met with clients, and held weekly meetings with his project managers, and in the back, he’d added a small, functional kitchenette.
“Is Ms. Wilder here?” Remy asked Sally, hoping that maybe Tempest had been caught up in the same traffic jam and was running behind, too, which would give him time to shower and change.
“She was right on time. Five o’clock on the dot.” Sally stopped typing and tipped her head down to look at Remy over the top of her reading glasses, taking in his grimy, unkempt presence with a frown. “I put her in the conference room to wait for you. She’s a classy-looking client, and you certainly don’t look fit to be in the same room with her.” She wrinkled her nose at him in distaste, adding insult to injury.
Abrupt laughter escaped him. He could always count on Sally to be blunt and not mince words. But it was that straightforward attitude that made her such a great secretary. She didn’t take any crap from his guys, she dealt with subcontractors efficiently, she wasn’t easily intimidated by anyone or anything, and crazily enough, she managed to do the work of three secretaries instead of just one.
“Yes, I know I look and smell bad,” he said, because there was no denying the truth. “I didn’t think I was going to be twenty minutes late and thought I’d have time to grab a shower. I’ll say hello to Ms. Wilder and let her know I’m going to clean up and change real quick before our meeting.”
Sally gave him a nod of approval. “Good idea. I was waiting for you to get to the office before I left for the day because I didn’t want to leave Ms. Wilder alone, and now that you’re here, I’m going to pack up for the night and be on my way.”
“Sure. Thank you for staying.” He gave her an appreciative smile. “Will you lock the front door when you leave so no one can walk in on Ms. Wilder while I’m upstairs?”
“Of course.” She started gathering the different invoices from suppliers that were strewn all over her desk in organized chaos, then put them into a neat pile to finish tomorrow. “Have a good evening, Remy.”
“You, too.”
With a deep exhale to shore up his fortitude, Remy headed down the short hall to the conference room. Admittedly, a part of him dreaded seeing Tempest for the first time since the ball and being the world’s biggest jackass to her. Undoubtedly, things would be awkward, which was why he had every intention of keeping their meeting focused on business. But beneath that apprehension, Remy couldn’t deny that there was also an unwanted stirring of anticipation in his chest. Unwanted because he still desired Tempest more than any other woman but didn’t deserve her, especially after the way he’d treated her that night. Most likely, she hated his guts, anyway—not that he’d blame her.
He was still trying to deal with the massive amount of guilt that had sat on his conscience the past two months—that he’d essentially used Tempest to alleviate the resentment and bitterness that Kyle’s presence had dug up. Yeah, kissing her so hungrily, so greedily had definitely started out as a way to assuage that pain, to forget the past, but by the time she’d been gasping for breath from the shattering orgasm he’d given her, that aching need twisting deep inside of Remy for Tempest had grown tenfold . . . and had absolutely nothing to do with an act of revenge.
Those unexpected emotions he’d felt for Tempest had been real and fucking scary. And shutting them down as quickly as possible had been his goal. But in the process, he’d hurt her, and he hated himself for that, too.
Doing his best to erase all those frustrating memories from his mind, he knocked briskly to let Tempest know he was entering. She casually glanced up from whatever she was doing on her phone as he opened the door, then her eyes widened in startled shock when she saw him.
In contrast to his grimy appearance, Tempest sat on a chair near the conference table, her slender legs crossed in a ladylike way. With her thick, dark hair spilling over her shoulders, she looked beautiful and sophisticated in a black formfitting skirt and a pristine white blouse that was buttoned just low and tasteful enough to hint at her cleavage but not blatantly show off her breasts. Her outfit was modest and feminine by anyone’s standards, but it was the bright red high-dollar heels on her feet that were sexy as hell and hinted at this woman’s sensual, seductive side.<
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The description Lady and the Tramp couldn’t have been more fitting and obvious in that moment.
“Hi,” she said, and moved to stand up.
He lifted a hand to stop her. “I’m really sorry I’m late. I was at a construction site and then got caught in traffic. Can you give me ten minutes to shower and change before we go over the preliminary drawings for your building?”
She tipped her head curiously. “You have a shower at your office?”
“Actually, I live right upstairs.”
“Oh.” Surprise lit her eyes. “Sure. Go ahead. I have a few emails I can answer while you’re . . . showering.” Something in her voice went low and husky at that last word, and she quickly glanced back down to her cell phone.
Just that easily, just that quickly, awareness filtered in the air between them—despite how things had ended between them two months ago.
He swallowed hard. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “Sally is locking the front door on her way out, and there’s water and soda in the refrigerator down the hall in the kitchenette if you’d like something to drink.”
“I’m good.” Her gaze remained downcast. “Thank you.”
Leaving the conference door cracked open, he headed to the back of the office and took the stairs to the second level. He used his key to get into his apartment and made his way to the bedroom. The entire place was small and sparsely decorated—one bed with an attached bath, a living room, and kitchen. Being a bachelor, it was all the space he needed.
Remy stripped off all his dirty clothes and dropped them into the hamper, then turned on the shower and stepped into the glass enclosure. Quickly as possible, he washed his hair, scrubbed the grime from the rest of his body, then got back out and toweled off, including his hair. He brushed his teeth, feeling clean, decent, and human again.
He was grateful that things weren’t completely uncomfortable between him and Tempest, but their brief exchange hadn’t been warm and fuzzy, either. That short encounter downstairs had happened so fast, and it hadn’t been nearly enough time for him to gauge her emotions or really know what she was thinking.