Rich Man's Deception: Complete Boxed Set Bundle: Billionaire Boss / Corporate Espionage Romance

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Rich Man's Deception: Complete Boxed Set Bundle: Billionaire Boss / Corporate Espionage Romance Page 13

by Gibson, Valerie S.


  I was frozen. I couldn’t think. I could barely breathe. It all felt like a dream, or maybe a nightmare, I wasn't sure. I knew one thing though: I couldn't hold the tears back any longer now, nor the choking sensation building in the back of my throat. I was being strangled by my own emotions.

  “Can you? Can you forgive me for being such an idiot?” Ian asked again.

  I cast my gaze to the floor. I couldn't look at him, it was too painful. The fires of longing that I had worked so long to dampen, to smother, now roared again, awakening like gasoline thrown on smoldering coals.

  “Rachel? Will you please look at me?” Ian asked.

  Rachel. He had used my real name. It made my heart sing, the butterflies burst in the pit of my stomach. There was such a mixture of pleasure, pain, longing, and hesitation, all at once. The pain of it had been agonizing, even from a distance. Now it was paralyzing. I didn't know what to do. A piece of me didn't want to be a part of it at all, not anymore. I had been so close to ending the whole affair, so close to escaping, and now it was dragging me back in. The idea exhausted me, filled me with dread, yet, at the same time it elated me. My body was on fire, smoldering with desire, with the same dull ache I had felt a thousand times. The discomfort felt good though, strangely. That was the pleasure of Ian though. The pleasure of Ian was pain. My inner conflict, the two forces clashing against each other, tugging in opposite directions, stole all movement from me. I was at a loss for words or even cohesive thought. All that existed was the floor at my feet, the floor I was examining with utmost intensity.

  “You were right, Rachel, about everything, about Logan. You were telling the truth, not about your name I suppose, or your identity, but that doesn't matter. When it was important, really important, you told the truth and I didn't believe you. I couldn't forgive myself for that. That's why I had to find you, Rachel, that's why I've been hunting you down for days now. That's why I'm here. Will you say something, anything? Rachel?” Ian pleaded, his hard chest rising and falling rapidly.

  “Mr. Payne,” Renly finally said. “You're clearly upsetting my client. I think perhaps it would be in the best interest of us all if you would just leave.”

  Ian swiveled on his heels, his eyes narrowed. “Better for you anyway, for your story, right? Your big scoop,” Ian spat.

  Mr. Renly's face went white, then he scowled. “For your information, I have been listening to Ms. Adams' testimony for the past week, hearing every last detail, and frankly, Mr. Payne, I think you've caused the girl more than enough anguish for one lifetime,” Renly said stiffly.

  Ian paused for a moment, looking at me, then back at Renly. Ian sighed. “You're right. I hurt her, as she did to me. But that's just a part of it, you know? You take the good with the bad, the pleasure with the pain. Because even the most agonizing moments, those were worth even just a fleeting instant of the good. That's what love really is, Rachel, that's what I realized. Love isn't just about the good feelings, it's about taking something for what it is, accepting it. Love is endurance. Love is the turning point where you finally understand that you are a part of something more, something greater than yourself. And before I met you, Rachel, I didn't think anything was greater than myself, truly I didn't.

  “That's why I always had so many problems with the women in my life, Rachel. I always blamed it on my position, my wealth, my stature. I always told myself that a man like me wasn't destined to love, because I could never truly trust anyone else. By doing so, I shut love out, shut it out before it ever even had the chance to bloom. But when Penelope...Rachel, whoever you are... When you came into my life, love forced itself on me. I couldn't ignore it and I hated it. I hated that I was so ready to surrender to that feeling, to let down my guard. I guess I was afraid because I know that once I accepted that love, it would never be just about me again. I couldn't just lose myself in my work. You would be my anchor to the real world, a shackle of sorts. And it terrified me, yet at the same time, it enthralled me, brought me peace. I rejected it though, even when the truth of it was so plain. It didn't matter what name you used, what profession you had. I simply loved you for whatever combination of things created you. That's why I knew in my heart that you weren't lying to me about Logan, even if I wanted to believe it so I could be free again.

  “You see, after you told me about Logan, I started investigating him myself, looking at the books a bit closer. It was then that I discovered what I already knew, in truth. Rachel, I know what happened. Please, look at me,” Ian said.

  My tears were flowing freely now. There was no point in trying to hide it. I looked at Ian, watching his perfect form through blurred vision occluded by tears.

  “Mr. Payne! Please. You're clearly upsetting Ms. Adams. I'm afraid if you will not leave willingly, I will have to call the authorities and have you removed from the premises,” Renly said.

  Ian turned sharply on Renly, a fire in his eyes. “I am the authority here, Mr. Jonathan Renly,” Ian said.

  Mr Renly's eyes filled with uncertainty. “You, you know who I am?” Renly asked.

  Ian scoffed. “I know all about you, trust me. You're not half as clever as you think you are,” Ian said.

  I looked to Ian, then to Renly. Silence fell across the room. “What is he talking about?” I asked. Mr. Renly's face was white.

  Ian's eyes narrowed. “Of course you haven't told her; why would you?” Ian growled.

  I looked to Renly again. He averted his eyes.

  “I don't know what you're talking about,” Renly mumbled, wandering towards the desk, distancing himself from me. I couldn't take it anymore. “What is going on?” I demanded.

  Ian ignored me. “What did he promise you? Money? Influence? A seat as a chairman at my company? What was it, Renly? What did you sell your integrity for?” Ian asked, stepping threateningly close to Renly. Ian's eyes were dark, his fists clenched. I could see the mass of his muscles straining against his suit. Mr. Renly must have seen it too, because he took several steps back.

  Finally, I stood, finding my voice for the first time since Ian had entered the room. “What the hell are you two talking about?” I howled.

  Renly and Ian both turned to me. My face was beet red, and my arms were trembling.

  “Don't you get it, Rachel? He's working for Logan,” Ian said.

  My face drained of color, the venom of dread seeping through me. “What?” I asked dimly. My mind still couldn't quite wrap my head around what he had just suggested.

  “Look, I don't know what he has been telling you, Penel―Rachel, but you have to trust me. Mr. Renly has been on Logan's payroll for a long time. That's why he offered to help you, to do this story. It's all about what Logan wanted, what he anticipated. We're playing right into his hands,” Ian said.

  Renly stepped out from behind his desk. “That is an absurd accusation. I am a journalist. I took Rachel's story for the same reason anybody would, to find the truth, the truth the public deserve to hear,” Renly said.

  Ian scoffed. “You mean the truth as you interpret it, with your own sick spin on it, right?”

  “Ms. Adams, don't believe this man. Clearly this is nothing more than a shameless attempt to protect his reputation, to salvage it. That's the real reason you are here, isn't it, Mr. Payne? You're here because you found out what Rachel planned to do and you want to stop her. That's what it is, Rachel. He's just trying to save his own pitiful skin,” Renly said.

  I froze again. I hadn't considered that, but it made sense. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. I looked to Ian; the pressure in my heart was building to the point of bursting. How much more could a person take? How much more emotional trauma could one person physically endure? I should have walked away right then. Instead, I had to ask, “Is that…is that true, Ian? Do you want to stop me? Is that why you're here?”

  Ian's eyes got wide. “No. Rachel, no. I don't care about that, not anymore. I'm only here because of you, and to warn you abo
ut Renly, about Logan,” Ian said. His voice was strained. He looked distraught, more so than I had ever seen him before. He had always been so calm, so poised and collected.

  “If that's true, then could you get me my job back?” I asked, a small, thin beam of hope peeking through for the first time in ages.

  Ian hesitated, then his face fell. “No,” he admitted. “I cannot, not anymore.”

  Renly scoffed. “You can't? Or you won't? Tell the girl the truth, Ian. You're a good talker. Your little love speech was quite a show, but you're no monster, you don't want to toy with her emotions anymore. Tell her the truth, tell the poor girl you don't care about her, that you care about your business and your reputation. That's all you've ever cared about,” Renly said.

  Ian pushed past Renly. “Rachel, you have to believe me. I swear to you everything I said was genuine, was honest. Don't listen to him,” Ian pleaded.

  I felt the hot tears searing behind my eyes again. The pressure was building, my head throbbing. There had been so much pressure so frequently that my skull felt thin, like it would rupture at any moment. Renly and Ian both began approaching me, their eyes pleading. I shook my head. “No. You're…you're all just liars, all of you!” I stammered, turning and dashing for the door. I had to get out, to leave, not just the office, not just the street, but the whole city. I had to go home, go home where people were simple, honest.

  “Rachel, wait!” Ian's voice called after me, but I was already down the hall. Instead of waiting for the elevator, I took the stairs. My things were already packed at home. All I had to do was drive back, grab my suitcase, then it was directly to the airport and I was homebound, free from this place forever.

  It was only when I was out of the building, opening the door to my car, that I allowed myself to breathe.

  “Rachel, please!” Ian's voice rang out and my heart jolted. He was standing right next to me, not a hair out of place.

  “How did you get down here so fast?” I asked, breathless. I had run the entire way.

  Ian shrugged. “I run five miles a day, and you're not exactly a world-class sprinter,” he said sheepishly.

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course. We can't all be perfect,” I growled, shoving my key into the car ignition. “Have a nice life, Ian.”

  “No, Rachel, stop!” Ian said, grabbing my wrist. The close quarters caused his cologne to wash over me. It was fresh, but potent, a manly musk. With the smell came a flood of fond memories. I could feel the tears again. “Please, Ian, please just let me go. I just can't take this anymore, I can't. I'm sorry, Ian, for everything, really I am,” I said, closing the door.

  Ian simply opened the door again. I tried to re-shut it, but it was futile; he was too strong.

  “You're not sorry, but you will be if you walk away from this now,” Ian said.

  “Did you just threaten me?” I asked incredulously.

  Ian considered this for a moment. “No, wait, that came out wrong.”

  Ian Payne was flustered. It would have been endearing any other time, but it was just too late now. “Goodbye, Ian.” I slammed the door, then heard a cry.

  “Aurghh!” Ian yelped.

  I looked down, mortified to see that I had closed Ian's hand in the door, the hand he used to create incredible things. “Ian! Oh my God, I'm so sorry!” I threw the door open and climbed out of the car. “Are you alright?”

  Ian was wincing as he cradled his hand. “Owww,” he moaned.

  “Oh God, I've ruined you. How can you, um, invent things with a ruined hand?” I asked, feeling like I had just burned down the Sistine Chapel.

  Ian smiled weakly, sucking on his index finger. “Don't worry, Logan beat you to it,” Ian said.

  I frowned, rubbing Ian's tense back. Then I noticed the suit he was wearing was frayed, worn. Ian never wore a suit more than twice, and would never wear anything in that condition. A lump lodged in my throat. “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Ian sighed. “Apparently you weren't the only one working for Logan. He had me officially investigated by the U.S. Government. They found out that I was doing experimentation at home, using grant money in unregulated facilities. After that, it was easy for Logan to petition the board for control of Infiniti Inc.,” Ian said.

  I hesitated. “Wait, are you telling me that you're unemployed too?” I asked.

  Ian laughed. “Worse than that. They froze my assets, all of them, while the investigation endures.”

  I didn't want to smile, but I did. It was hard to imagine Ian Payne being broke. Then I remembered that he still had a beautiful mansion to go home to. The wealthy never suffered, not truly. “Well at least you have a roof over your head; it's more than some can say,” I said. Ian just looked at me, then eyed the ground below. “You're kidding me! They took your home away? Where are you going to sleep?”

  Ian smiled weakly. “Renly was right about one thing. I didn't just come to talk to you,” Ian said.

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

  Ian chuckled to himself. “Sorry. I've never done this before, Rachel. I don't really know how to ask for things, only to order them. So how do I phrase this…? Let's see… Rachel, I require a place to stay,” Ian said.

  I scoffed. “No way! What? No! No thank you. You'll just have to cope, find a shelter or something,” I said, my heart quickening. I couldn't believe what he was asking of me.

  “Rachel, please. I really don't have any other options right now. Logan's even turned Cassie on me. You're the only friend I have left,” Ian said, looking at me with those pouty, deep blue eyes.

  I shook my head. “Even if I wanted to help you Ian, I couldn't,” I admitted.

  “Why not? Why can't I stay with you? It's just for a while, until the investigation is over,” Ian said.

  I rolled my eyes. “You really have no clue how the real world works, do you? I'm being evicted, Ian, I have to be gone by midnight tonight,” I said.

  “Evicted? What for?” Ian asked.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Because I'm unemployed, so I couldn't pay my rent,” I growled.

  Ian's eyes fell. “Oh,” he said.

  “Yeah, oh,” I growled, climbing back into the car. To my disbelief, Ian climbed into the passenger seat with me. “What do you think you're doing?” I howled.

  “Well where are you going then? Where are you sleeping tonight?” Ian asked.

  I sighed. “I'm going home, Ian, back to my parents, because I don't have any other choice.” The sentence felt more like a confession. I could barely look at him, I was so ashamed of myself.

  “Well, do you think they have an extra bedroom?” Ian asked, not even blinking.

  When I realized he was serious, I couldn't help but laugh. It was the most genuine laugh that had come from my mouth in quite some time. Life: it was just one sharp turn after another. Ian Payne, the billionaire inventor, was asking me, Rachel Adams, an Oklahoma yokel, for a place to stay.

  I sighed. I couldn't believe what I was about to do. “I suppose you'll need me to buy your plane ticket too,” I said.

  Ian dug into his pocket, pulling out a handful of loose change. “That depends. How many tickets can I get with $1.47?”

  I sighed. “How did you survive this long?” I asked.

  Ian shrugged. “Lots of assistants. So, where's home anyway? Do your parents live in the city? Let me guess, Staten Island?”

  “Try Oklahoma,” I said, starting the car.

  “Oklawho?” Ian asked, his face going white.

  “How do you feel about furniture?” I asked with a smirk, then pulled out onto the long road home.

  * * *

  “Is this on the way to your parents' house?” Ian asked.

  I shook my head. “No, but I can't take you to them dressed like that,” I said, nodding to his ruined suit. It had been embarrassing enough riding with him on the plane with it, but enduring a night at my parents' with it, that was impossible.

  “Dres
sed like what? This is an Armani suit. It was tailor made, and cost over $6,000,” Ian said, looking hurt.

  I grinned. “Yeah, well, maybe it was worth that much once, but now it looks like a rag with buttons,” I said.

  Ian grimaced, then looked back to the road. “Well, I'm a bit confused. You say we're going shopping, but where are the stores? I don't see any billboards, no neon signs. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've seen anything but cornfields for the past couple of hours,” Ian said.

  I laughed. “You haven't left the city much, have you?” I asked.

  Ian scowled. “I will have you know that I have traveled all over the world. I've been to Paraguay, Nicaragua, I've been on emissary missions to countries you've probably never even heard of. I've served as a founder and sponsor of thousands of different relief efforts in Africa, China, and Russia,” Ian insisted.

  I was grinning from ear to ear. “Oh yeah? Ever been to Oklahoma?” I asked.

  Ian paused for a moment. “No,” he finally mumbled. “But I'm sure if I had ever had a sudden inexplicable interest in corn, I would have.”

  I laughed. “Those fields may bore you, but they comfort me. The city is too loud, so noisy and busy; here it's nice and quiet, peaceful. Nothing but wholesomeness all around you. The fields remind me of home,” I said.

  Ian shook his head. “You mean, you weren't raised by ministers in the Peace Corps in Somalia?” The sarcasm in his voice was cutting.

  “Are you ever going to get over that? Or are you just going to keep bringing it up?” I asked.

  Ian crossed his arms. “I just don't understand how someone could just blatantly lie about that. Pretending to have a bunch of amazing experiences that you never actually had.” I laughed. “Welcome to the real world,” I commented.

  Ian scoffed. “I prefer mine.”

  “Me too,” I mumbled to myself as I pulled onto an exit ramp.

 

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