The Bastard

by Lisa Renee Jones

  Isaac presses his hands on the desk. “Just do your job,” he snaps. “I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”

  “Since when does a member of the family, a managing member of the executive team, just do their job without asking questions?” I ask, stepping into the room without closing the door. I don’t do small spaces with Isaac. I learned that lesson the hard way years ago. I stop behind a leather chair and settle my hands on the back. “That’s not what your father taught me. He said—”

  “The union is breathing down our throats,” he snaps. “Our product is good. If we have a flaw, it’s human. They don’t like my attitude on this.”

  Finally, he’s actually talking about the problem. “How can you be sure our product is good? What have we done to ensure—”

  “Everything,” he says. “I have this under control. Just appease the union.”

  “Appease the union, or stay busy and out of your hair?”

  “Both, Harper,” he bites out. “I have this under control. I have everything under control.”

  “From where I’m standing, that’s questionable.”

  Shock runs through me at the sound of Eric’s voice. I rotate to face the door to find him standing there, looking like a rebel with rumpled hair and that one-day stubble, and apparently, he left his suits in his hotel room, at least today. He’s in faded jeans and a Bennett Enterprises T-shirt that hugs his hard body, his brightly inked arms in full, colorful display, his message clear: The bastard is home. What are you going to do about it? And when his blue eyes meet mine, they burn a path along my nerve endings, the message in their depths changes with clarity—I’m here for you.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Harper

  I can’t breathe with Eric’s unexpected appearance, with the proof that he didn’t ignore my email, that he didn’t ignore my plea for help. He simply answered me in person, but when Isaac demands, “What the fuck are you doing here, Eric?” I’m suddenly trapped, a rat in a cage between two bigger beasts, and I don’t know how to react. I don’t know if this is what Eric wanted.

  “Good to see you, too,” Eric says dryly.

  Isaac leans on the desk, perfectly manicured hands pressed to the hardwood surface. “Seriously, Eric,” he says. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Eric doesn’t look at me. He focuses on his brother, his lips, those beautiful lips that I know to be oh-so-punishing when he wants them to be, lifting ever so slightly. “I’m family,” he says, those words pure sarcasm. “Why the fuck haven’t I been here sooner should be your question, but you know, you never call, you never write. It’s really heartbreaking.”

  Isaac narrows his eyes on Eric and pushes off the desk, unbuttoning his suit jacket and settling his hands on his hips, his gaze raking over his brother—no, his bastard brother. “You can’t afford a suit with all those millions I hear you made?”

  “A billion,” I say before I can stop myself. “He’s a billionaire now.”

  Isaac’s attention rockets to me. “Bullshit.”

  “It’s true,” I assure him, because while yes, I’ve randomly read up on Eric’s successes, Gigi told me before I ever left for Denver. “He just hit the billionaire mark.” I can feel Eric’s attention settle on me, heavy and sharp, and I suddenly regret those words. Now, it seems like I went to him, chasing his money.

  My gaze snaps to his, the connection jolting me—my God, this man affects me. “You’re very successful. That was my point.”

  “Was it now?” he challenges, shadows in his eyes that I do not wholly understand, but I am certain they relate to the bastard and the princess, and not in a good way. He thinks I’m one of them. He thinks I went to him with an agenda that wasn’t what I claimed. He thinks I used him and now, he’s here to make us all pay.

  “I have work to do and so does Harper,” Isaac snaps. “We’ll have to have the happy reunion charade later.”

  Eric straightens. “Later won’t work for me.” He advances into the room, all long-legged swagger, to stop in front of Isaac’s desk. “I’ve been hired to do a full audit of the company’s operations and paid well enough to ensure I’m willing to spend time here.”

  My cheeks heat with anger and embarrassment. I’m right. He’s not here for me. Gigi paid him. Of course, she did. I told her not to. I told her that changes the dynamic of his presence here. Isaac laughs. “No one paid you to audit our operations. I’m the president and my father damn sure wouldn’t have called you in.”

  I grip the back of a chair, my only shield in the war of brothers I’ve never quite experienced until now. I wonder if I knew how bad it was would I have gone to Eric, but who am I fooling? I would have taken any excuse to see Eric again. I wanted that man. I still want him, even knowing now that he most likely isn’t here to help me.

  Eric perches on the edge of Isaac’s desk, power radiating off of him as if he’s just taken ownership of the entire room. “You’re scared shitless that pops is up to his old games, aren’t you?”

  There’s a flicker of something in Isaac’s eyes that he quickly banks, but I saw it and if I saw it, Eric saw it. “I’ve earned my place here. He trusts me. So, no, asshole. I’m not afraid of anything that has your name attached to it.”

  “No?” Eric challenges, his hand settling on his powerful thigh, muscle flexing beneath his ink, a portion of the jaguar exposed, lines of numbers beneath it. I wonder about those numbers. I wonder if he wanted that jaguar to be exposed to mock everyone in this building, including me.

  “No. We both know you rode Grayson Bennett to the bank. Is there trouble in paradise? You need a new ride? It’s too late for that.”

  “You’re not afraid of anything with my name attached,” Eric repeats. “Interesting and good to know. That’ll make it easy for me to get everything I need from you.”

  “The only thing you need from me is a kick in the ass to get out of my office. I have work to do.” He swats at Eric like he’s a gnat, the bastard brother, only this bastard brother is a billionaire who is smarter than him. I fight my urge to protect Eric. He can protect himself and I’m terrified that Gigi has given him the opening to destroy us.

  “You’ll get him whatever he wants.”

  At the sound of Gigi’s voice, I turn to find her standing in the doorway, and at five-foot-one with flaming red hair and piercing blue eyes, she might be seventy-seven, but she’s a force to be reckoned with. “You underestimate me, boy,” she snaps, her voice loud, but Isaac shakes like her hands. “I told you I need to know what’s going on,” she adds, curling her fingers into her palms. “You told me to rock away in my rocking chair, which by the way, I don’t own a rocking chair.”

  “Grandmother—”

  “Gigi,” she amends. “I’m Gigi around these parts, the woman who started this place, like Harper’s father started her family’s business. Now let’s get real for once. Either there is something going on you don’t want to tell me about or there is something you don’t know. Your brother will figure it out.”

  “No,” Isaac says in instant rejection. “No, he will not. There’s nothing going on here but normal business. You will not disrupt our operation. You’re getting old and paranoid.”

  She snorts. “Not old enough to suit you. Eric gets his brains from me.” She looks at Eric. “Didn’t know that, did you? I’m smarter than the average gal, despite the fact I let Grayson Bennett steal you away from us.” She doesn’t give him time to reply. She homes in on Isaac again and orders, “Get him what he asks for, son. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

  “You don’t have the power to make this call,” Isaac argues. “I know you did this while dad is in Europe for a reason, to sideswipe me and root Eric in my business before he could stop you, but he’s one phone call away and our combined stock overrules yours.”

  “Actually,” Eric says dryly. “My stock with Gigi’s combined overrules any vote.”

  “You don’t own stock,” he
snaps.

  “I do now,” Eric counters. “I bought out the bank this morning with a premium they couldn’t resist.”

  Isaac goes completely, utterly still and I watch as hell swims in the depths of his stare. “You did what?” he bites out, while I swallow hard at this unexpected turn of events that might just change this company forever, and I’m not sure it’s for the better, not when I see the real anger between these brothers.

  “Family needs to be protected by family,” Eric says, his gaze shifting to Gigi. “Don’t you think, Gigi?”

  Now she swallows hard, a telltale sign that she had no idea he’d done such a thing. “Yes,” she says. “And I haven’t always remembered that, son. I do now.”

  “So, Harper tells me,” he says dryly, eyeing Isaac, “I’ll work in the conference room for now. Get me access to all databases and all facilities.”

  “That will take time,” Isaac says.

  “I’ll get it done myself,” Eric says. “I’m impatient like that.” He looks at me, his blue eyes sharp, but unreadable. “You’ll work with me on the audit. Everything else will come second. It was one of my terms when I agreed to do the audit.” Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I swear that his voice lowers, the heat in his eyes smoldering with possession as he adds, “You’re all mine.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Harper

  I’m burning alive under Eric’s scorching attention, melting right here in the center of Isaac’s office with the message in his burning blue-eyed stare: he came here for me. He also promised to finish this family off if he returned. Maybe that means he intends to fuck me in every possible way this time. I don’t know. I just know that as seconds tick by, our present company of Isaac and Gigi fades away and there is just the two of us and a challenge that I don’t understand, but I’m certain I will soon.

  “I’ll leave you three to get this done,” Gigi says, snapping me back to the room just in time to find her exiting the office.

  “Go do your job, Harper,” Isaac snaps at me. “Eric and I need to have a conversation alone.”

  Eric’s lips twitch, his eyes never leaving mine, nor mine his. “I’ll find you when we’re done,” he says, and there is this heady possessive undertone to those words that is anything but professional. This is a promise that we still have unfinished business, that we are far from done, and I have never felt so owned in my life. Considering this place, this family has made me feel pretty darn owned, that’s saying a lot. It’s different with Eric, though. He owns everything around him. He owns me. He’s different from Isaac and the rest of them in ways that connect with me on every level. I crave this man’s confidence. I need this man’s touch. I understand this man’s hunger for revenge in ways that he can’t know, and yet, I fear that very need in him is why he’s here, is why he’s now dangerous.

  “You can leave the door open,” he adds, his tone sharpening with a swift change in mood as he refocuses on his brother. “Isaac and I won’t be long.”

  The air crackles and this time it’s not about me and Eric. It’s about him and Isaac and that snaps me out of my lusty haze and shoots me straight into fight mode. My gaze shoots to Isaac. “He’s here because Gigi wants answers. I tried to tell you that. I asked and asked you to help me give them to her. You dismissed her as an old lady and forgot how much power she has. So, suck it up and just give Eric what he needs. Give Gigi what she wants.” I look at Eric. “As for you. You aren’t a bastard because he calls you one. You’re a bastard if you choose to be one.” I look between them. “We’re family whether you two like it or not. You need to figure this out.”

  I march for the door and exit, Eric’s voice following me as he says, “She has no idea what kind of bastard I really am, now does she, Isaac?”

  That statement, layered with history, halts my steps and I lean on the wall waiting for more. What does that even mean? I need to know what that means and I wait for an explanation, but the door shuts. I’m shut out. Damn it. I push off the wall and hurry down the hallway, reaching the elevator just as it closes, no doubt missing Gigi by seconds. I cut right and take the stairs, rushing down the winding path until I reach the bottom level just as the elevator doors open.

  Gigi steps out and pauses to smooth the red dress she’s wearing, oblivious to how the color clashes with her hair, which is more orange than red. “I expected you before I made it to the elevator,” she says, cutting me a look, her blue eyes so like Eric’s in this moment that I shiver. “You’re late,” she adds and starts walking toward her office, which is the only office down here by her design.

  “That wasn’t exactly neutral territory you left me in,” I say, easily catching up to her despite the fact that she’s remarkably spry for her age. “And you know I don’t like you down here. You don’t even keep a secretary. What if something happened to you?”

  She waves me off the way Isaac tried to wave off Eric and with the same failed results. “I’m fine down here. This is the cave, no men allowed.” She glances at me before entering her office, “Eric’s quite the looker these days, isn’t he?”

  My cheeks heat and she laughs. “You noticed.” She disappears through the doorway. “And I noticed the spark between you two.”

  Of course, she did. “And you,” I say, swiftly changing the subject and following her inside what is more a small executive apartment than an office, “should have warned me about what just happened.”

  “And you,” she counters, “should have told me when you left New York City. He called me.”

  “And you offered him how much money?”

  “Enough to get him here.”

  “He’s a billionaire now,” I say. “He doesn’t need your money.”

  “He damn sure took it,” she says, pointing at the chair next to her. “Sit.”

  I ignore the order, stopping in front of her, my hands on my hips. “He didn’t need that money,” I repeat. “He took it because he could make you pay him. Because he hates you that much. He’s now got stock. He came here to destroy us.”

  “And you really think that if he would have come without the payday, he would have had another motive?”

  “He’s here to take over,” I say because it sounds better than his promise that his return would be to “finish us off.”

  “Better him than someone else,” she shocks me by saying. “At least then I’ll die with this place in the hands of someone who’s blood, someone who will make it thrive. We don’t know what is going on, but we know it’s bad. This is my legacy. I don’t want it to end in jail.”

  “Gigi—”

  She holds up a hand. “He’s brilliant. He’ll save your father’s legacy along with mine. Go. Work. Get him what he needs. This is what we both wanted. Eric here, finding out what’s wrong. We got it. Now he’s here.”

  “For the wrong reasons,” I say.

  She purses her lips. “We’ll see. He wanted to be a part of this family from the day he met his father. We didn’t make him feel like he belonged. And understandably after that, he needed a reason other than that need to be here now. Money, and even revenge, serve that purpose. Now go. Keep an ear to what’s happening.”

  I could fight with her, but that achieves nothing obviously and I really do feel a need to be back upstairs, but she’s dismissed my stepfather in all of this. “Your son—”

  “Jeff will suck it up and deal with it, just like you. Go.”

  I give up, at least for now. I turn and head for the door. “Harper?”

  I turn to face her. “Yes?”

  “I love you, honey, and you’ve been there for me this past year, but when I tell you to do something, you do it. This is still your job. We both know I gave you instructions where Eric was concerned and you ignored those instructions.”

  She’s right. I did. I didn’t want him back here this way for reasons I’d point out, but she won’t listen. I nod and exit the office, a million emotions clawing at me, but I show none. Emotions
are used against you in this place. My need to protect my mother and even my father’s legacy is why I’m still here. That need is an emotion. It’s trouble, like Eric, and I can’t seem to walk away from that combination.

  Eager to be in my own space, where I can privately melt down and then stand back up and fight, I hurry up the stairs. The doorway to my office is like sweet relief. I enter my office and I’ve made it all of two steps when I hear. “Hello, princess.”

  I whirl around to find Eric in the doorway and he doesn’t stay there. He shuts the door and starts walking toward me, the look in his eyes as predatory as the jaguar on his arm, and like all prey, I’m thrust into a moment where I must make a decision to stand and fight or run. And I am prey. His prey, and before I can make a move, he’s standing in front of me, that earthy male scent of him seducing me.

  “We’re not done yet,” he says. “Just in case you hadn’t figured that out by now.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Harper

  I have about thirty seconds to process Eric’s declaration that we’re not done before he pulls me close, all that sinewy muscle absorbing my body, that powerful edge that is this man, owning me, and he owns me all too easily. I try to resist. I know I’m the enemy to him. My hand settles on his chest but I’m not sure if it’s to touch him or push him away.

  “Eric,” I whisper, and I feel the charge radiating between us, the heat, the ten shades of lust that come from deep, dark places for him and for me; they just exist, because he exists.

  He tangles his fingers in my hair, and lowers his mouth to mine. “We are definitely not done yet,” he repeats, the words almost guttural and then his lips are on my lips, his tongue stroking long and deep, stealing my breath and driving away everything but how he tastes, how he feels; that’s how easily I’m lost and found in this man. It’s doesn’t matter that he could very well be the one to destroy us. Not in this moment, not when he’s kissing me, not when I get that one last taste of him I’ve wished for these past hours, but it’s not a kiss that he allows me to drown in, it’s not even a kiss that lets me swim in the moment.