She took a seat behind the large, almost intimidating desk and watched him speak with the junior agent who’d asked for a moment of his time when they stepped out of the elevator. Folding her arms across the wine-colored capped-sleeve top she wore, Riley relaxed in the silver-gray suede chair behind the desk and simply observed. She admired everything, from the hang of his sagging denims to the tilt of his head. He spoke with both authority and comradery.
“Now, please tell me why you wanted to drive all the way out here,” he said once the mini meeting had ended and he’d shut the door.
“Can’t a wife see where her husband works?”
“You’ve already seen it—many times.”
“Not for a while, though. Besides, I like watching you work,” she purred.
He grinned, and for a second, Riley thought he was embarrassed. The effect endeared him to her even more.
Asher rounded the desk, with every intention of kissing her. A knock at the door halted his pursuit.
“You might get your wish,” he groaned and called out for the knocker to enter.
“Hey, Ashe. Brandon told me you just got in.” Claudette Silver rushed in, harried and breathless, referring to the junior agent who’d stopped Asher at his office door. “Hey, girl!” She forgot about her boss as she hurried over to greet his wife with hugs and small talk.
“Got some stuff for you to sign,” Claudette told Asher once Riley had crossed the room to the bar for a bottle of juice. “Have you told her about the trip yet?”
Asher shook his head while signing the requisitions his assistant pushed at him. “I’m gonna try surprising her. What do you think of my chances?”
Claudette uttered a decisive humph and tucked a lock of her dark blond hair behind an ear. “They’re about as good as my chances of picking up a rich, sexy man at this party of yours tonight.”
“Well, there’s gonna be tons of ’em there, so you never know.”
Folding her arms across the prim honey-brown suit jacket she wore, Claudette winked. “Remember I also said sexy.”
“Right.” Asher grimaced then and tried to appear hopeful. “You might get lucky. Just be there, beautiful and bright eyed, tonight.”
Claudette rolled her eyes toward Riley. “He this pushy about parties with you?”
“Every chance he gets,” Riley confirmed while stepping into Asher’s embrace. He slipped an arm about her waist and took a sip of her juice.
“Oh well…” Claudette acquiesced to defeat and gave Riley another hug before she left the office.
“Seriously now, do you promise this’ll be the only party while I’m here?” Riley asked once she was alone with her husband.
“That’s hard to say.” He sighed and instantly had to beg for mercy when she began to tickle him. “Hold on! Hold on now. What do I get if I promise it’s the only one?” He held her arms to her sides.
Riley’s brows didn’t rise, though clearly she was considering the question. “I can think of quite a few things, actually.” She tapped a nail on her lips and debated. “I suppose I could ration them out while I determine if you’ll keep your word.”
Asher’s eyes narrowed playfully. He set aside the bottle of juice, then backed her toward his desk. “When does this rationing start exactly?”
Riley held the front of her blouse together in a gesture of mock demureness. “Why, Mr. Hudson, surely you’re not suggesting—”
“I’m doing more than suggesting, Miss Stamper.”
With that, his hand disappeared inside her blouse.
The party had been going strong for almost an hour and a half when Riley finally connected with her husband. She was quite pleased that she’d been enjoying herself so thoroughly. Asher worked with a great team of people, and they treated her with an ease that told her they viewed her as more than just the boss’s wife. She was strolling toward the splendid buffet tables situated in a far corner of the rear lawn when Asher caught her waist.
“Will you dance with me?” He nuzzled her ear while making the request.
Riley couldn’t help but smile as the way he had posed the question made it sound as though they were still dating and there was still that vague uncertainty between them. Placing her hand in his, she accepted.
In silence, they swayed to a jazzy yet sultry rendering of “Betcha By Golly Wow!” performed by the neo-soul artists hired for the party.
“Asher?”
“Hmm…”
His response vibrated through her, and she shivered. “Um, would you mind telling me what this party is for?”
“We just signed a few new clients.” His fingers strummed the area of bare skin visible between the low-cut bodice of her dress and the chic slit skirt that flowed past her ankles. “It’s just a get-together for my people. We tend to celebrate with either a party, drinks or dinner when we close a big deal.”
“Mmm…” Riley’s contentment soared. The sultry setting, the music and the faint hum of conversation in the air was the perfect recipe for relaxation. “Shouldn’t Talib be here? He’s a part of it all, right?”
“Not back from his trip yet.” Asher stepped back as thoughts of his friend began to weigh heavily on him. “Besides, it’s like pulling teeth, getting him to socialize outside the office.”
“Humph. I can definitely understand that, considering where parties rank on my to-do lists.”
Asher grimaced. “It’s not the same where Talib’s concerned, though.”
“Because of Misha.”
He shook his head. “Don’t mention any of this to her, all right? I’d hate for her to know he’s pining for her and to think there’s a chance for them.”
“Oh, I can promise you, Misha’s got no notions of a reunion with your boy.” Riley peppered the statement with a flip shrug. “She never really went into all that happened between them but I know she’s not up to opening herself up to tension again.” Riley wound her arms about Asher’s neck. “And speaking of tension, I feel none of that here. Thank you for a great vacation.” She brushed her lips against his cheek. “It’s gonna be so hard to leave when the time comes.”
Riley continued to sway to the music, never noticing the muscles dancing a jig of rage along Asher’s jaw.
Chapter 11
Two weeks later…
Riley called out to Asher, then clapped a hand over her mouth when she opened his study door and saw that he was on the phone. She was about to back out of the doorway, but Asher waved her forward.
“Cooper? Coop? Listen, we’ll have to finish this later. My wife’s here. Yeah…yeah, we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Riley gently scolded and gave an airy wave toward the phone. Asher was already leaving his desk and crossing the room. “What I had to ask could, um—” The rest of her sentence ended on a moan when his mouth came down on hers.
Quickly, Riley dissolved into a mass of need, her body going pliant against the brick wall of his chest. She’d always considered herself a strong woman. Against this man…she felt strong yet drunk with desire in the same breath. Her body overruled her mind when his image emerged in her head. It had been that way from the moment he summoned her to his office the day after she broke the story of corruption in the ranks of his now multibillion-dollar sports agency.
Snapping back to the present, Riley discovered she was half in and half out of her bra. Asher was working her nipples into firm peaks while his lips suckled the diamond studs adorning her earlobes. She called his name in an attempt to urge him to wait, but her voice came out as a weak gasp, and she sounded more aroused than firm.
For just a few moments, she let herself float in this provocative state he’d created. His mouth glided down the column of her neck, and then he was suckling the firm peaks of her bosom, which filled his hands.
Riley cleared her throat then. “Asher…The car’s late…again.”
“I’m sorry.” He sounded far from sincere.
“Asher, I have a plane to catch.”
“Tomorrow.”
“You’ve told me that three times already.” Agitation began to squelch Riley’s desire.
Asher’s desire began to merge with agitation as well. “What’s your hurry?”
“I have work.”
“And I haven’t seen you in a month.”
“You knew I couldn’t stay.”
“You’re my wife.”
“And you know my obligations. They’ve been the same since the day we met.”
Asher left her side then. Riley could see the muscle flexing wickedly along his jaw.
“What about your obligation to me Ri?”
Ri. He only called her that when he was truly pissed with her. She rolled her eyes and set about fixing her clothes. “It’s my job.”
“It’s a column, and you can write it from anywhere.”
Riley’s hands stilled on her sleeve, and she watched him, as if stunned. “You know it’s more than that. My column is a lot more than opinions spilling out of my head. They’re facts, they’re flushed out, confirmed, researched, and for you to make light of it—”
“Riley, everything else is light when it’s weighed against our marriage.”
“So I guess that includes your job, too?” she challenged, watching him, defiance in her smoky stare. “Does it, Asher? Hmm? Scrapping for dollars for overindulged, overpaid and overgrown kids?”
His gaze narrowed more dangerously. “That’s what you think of my work?” His voice grated while he smoothed the back of his hand across the wicked scar on his cheek.
Riley sensed that things were going down an ugly road, but it was clearly not a new road. The subject was always lurking there, in the corridor of their marriage, and it had been forged during their courtship.
“Asher, you know I really don’t want to do this.” She gave a quick smile. “I only want to go.”
“I don’t want you to go,” was his simple reply as he turned back toward his desk.
“I, um…I could always call a cab,” she threatened, ignoring the lurching of her heart.
Asher grinned but kept his eyes focused on a page he held. “It’d get no farther than the gate,” he warned.
Blinking, Riley dismissed her unease and walked over to the large oak desk he stood behind. “Are you hinting that you’d keep me here against my will?”
He turned to her so suddenly, she didn’t have time to react. “Against your will?” He raged softly, easing his hand past the slit in her skirt. “So being there is more important than being here with me, is that it?”
Riley’s lashes fluttered as an instant need surged through her. Admirably, her thoughts remained on track. “This isn’t about that.”
“The hell it’s not. I want you where I am.”
“Then come to New York. You can run your business there as easily as I could work here. Maybe more so.” Her lips thinned when he rolled his eyes. “Why should I be the one to move, Asher?”
“Because it’s not that easy for me to just pick up and move headquarters.”
“Bullshit. You just don’t want to.”
He had the nerve to wink at her. “That too,” he confirmed.
“Hypocrite.”
“If you like.”
“I should’ve known it would come to this.”
Asher moved his hand and muttered a curse. “What, Ri? Wanting my wife at my side?”
“Dammit, I am at your side. Our lives have always been unorthodox, but I’ve always been by your side whenever I could.”
He smirked. “Whenever you could, huh?” Slowly, his dark gaze raked the length of her body. “I want more than that,” he said.
Riley raised her chin. “But not enough to come where I am.”
“This is stupid, Ri.”
“Yeah, hypocrisy’s a bitch.”
He massaged the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t ask you out here to argue.”
Riley sneered. “No…you asked me out here to celebrate our marriage, right? Right, Asher?” Folding her arms over her chest, she fixed him with a knowing smile. “Or did you ask me to come out here to force me to stay with you?”
“Force you? You’re my wife, and I’d have to force you?”
It broke her heart to know she was causing the pain in his eyes. Now that they were on the ever-present road, however, there was no getting off until they reached the end.
“I warned you this would happen, remember? I warned you….” She was more or less speaking to herself. “But you were the one who wanted to get married.” Her sigh was followed by a gasp when she realized what she’d said.
Asher’s head snapped up, and the hurt on his face was replaced by a look of stunned disbelief.
Riley was also in a state of disbelief. They were still standing close to one another, yet she refused to meet his gaze when he dipped his head to look at her.
“You know, I’ve never forced a woman to do anything against her will,” he said and looked away when she dragged her eyes to his face. “I’m not about to start now. I can’t stop you. I won’t. You want to leave me. You…don’t want to be married, then go.” He said this in spite of the fact that he could scarcely hear above the pulse thundering in his ears. “A car’ll be waiting when you walk out the front door.” He turned away then, sickened by the lie he’d spoken. He’d never let her leave him. He’d foolishly underestimated her will to maintain the fierce independence that seemed to rule her.
“Go, Ri, I mean it,” he said when he saw that she was still watching him. “But if you choose to stay, you’ll do it here in Phoenix.”
Riley shook her head dazedly. “An ultimatum?” She spoke the word as though it were foreign to her ears. She opened her mouth, closed it and then tried to speak again. “I can’t believe you’d make me choose between—”
“It’s a simple enough choice.”
“Because you’re not the one who has to make it!”
Asher stifled his next words in his throat. He wouldn’t beg her. He wouldn’t tell her that the distance was killing him or that he was going out of his mind with worry when she was in New York. Issuing the ultimatum had been a caveman move, but that he could tolerate. That had its own rewards.
Right about then, Riley was thinking of rewarding the man she loved with a quick jab to the gut. An ultimatum? Damn him. If she hadn’t heard it with her own ears, she never would’ve believed he’d uttered such nonsense. Yet there he was, issuing the order as plain as day. Moreover, he’d done it in that unyielding, coolly confident manner that made him the most sought-after and successful agent in the country.
She would’ve given him anything he wanted if only he hadn’t asked her to abandon the one thing that made her who she was. The one thing that gave her an identity. Her independence was the thing that would still be there regardless of what happened in love. Something inside wouldn’t let her risk losing that.
Asher brushed the back of his hand across the scar along his left cheek. He could see the defiance in her eyes—the lovely brown orbs that had the power to make him do anything she desired. He wouldn’t give in to her on this. On this one thing, he wouldn’t yield. She’d come around to his way of thinking soon enough; of that he was confident.
Just then, however, he knew he couldn’t stomach hearing whatever she was about to say. Instead, he clenched his jaw tight. Slipping a hand inside his charcoal slacks, he coldly appraised the length of her body.
“Be gone by the time I get back,” he said. Without a look back, he left the study and slammed his way out of the house.
“Casey? Is Vic anywhere around? I want to talk to him about this piece for next week’s run,” Riley called out in the direction of the open door leading to her assistant’s office area.
Seconds later, Casey was sticking her head in Riley’s door. “Vic took some vacation time. He left just before you got back from Phoenix.”
“Oh,” Riley replied, more subdued. “Thanks, Case.”
It’d been two weeks since the ill-fated trip to see h
er husband. She’d already picked up the phone six times, intending to call and agree to his terms. Terms? Ha! His ultimatum. She always reminded herself of that and promptly slammed the phone down.
Twisting her cushioned slate-green desk chair to and fro, Riley wondered if he was suffering as much as she was. She wouldn’t let herself believe that was possible. After all, he wasn’t being asked to give up anything.
Except his wife, a voice chided.
Groaning, Riley stood and fluffed the hem of her flared mocha skirt. She made her way to the brass bar cart in the corner and was about to pour a drink when a knock sounded on the door and Misha waltzed inside.
“Pour me one, too,” Misha asked.
“It’s only ginger ale,” Riley warned.
Misha shrugged. “Spike it.”
Grinning, Riley added a bit of vodka to Misha’s glass and took her drink neat.
“So what brings you by?” Riley asked when she was seated back behind her desk.
“The most important type of business—gossip,” Misha shared, with a wicked chuckle, narrowing her tilted dark eyes.
Riley was studying her drink. “I should’ve guessed.”
“Word has it that our top fact-checker is spending his vacation time trying out for a spot on a certain New Jersey basketball team.”
“Vic?”
“And the lady takes home the six-piece luggage set!” Misha bellowed in her best game show host voice.
Riley clicked her nails against the beaded exterior of her glass. “How in hell do you come by all this stuff?”
Misha recrossed her long legs and winked. “It’s not what you know. It’s who you sleep with.”
“Slut.”
Repositioning her pencil-slim frame on the chair, Misha gave an airy wave. “I prefer the term man’s lady,” she teased.
Riley didn’t bother telling her friend that the phrase had nowhere near the same connotation.
“Actually, I came by this news during a simple dinner. One of my dinner partners asked how you were doing. More accurately, she wanted to know how that ‘fine-assed Asher Hudson’ was doing, and then she went on to say that she wondered if he’d grace NYC with his presence since one of his new acquisitions was on the way to landing a prime spot on a certain franchise roster.”
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