by Lexi C. Foss
My blood ran hot as a myriad of emotions battled for purpose. “I . . . You . . . Fuck!” I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be furious or relieved. Anger seemed to be winning, as my fists clenched tightly and my eyes narrowed.
“Before you blow up at me, keep in mind that my intentions regarding you have never been a secret. I wasn’t about to hire your firm without protecting you. Your career means the world to you, and rightly so. I would never jeopardize that, Rachel. Ever. So you can be mad at me all you want, but I did the right thing, even if I did lie a little and say we were already dating.”
“You did the cocky thing,” I corrected. “Expecting me to date you? And saying we were already dating from the beginning?” Fury won against relief. His words and assessment were one hundred percent sound and accurate, but his gall grated on my last nerve.
“Oh, fuck . . .” That conversation I had with the partners the day after he signed the agreement took on a whole new meaning and made a hell of a lot more sense now. I’d thought they were talking about Evan’s relationship with Sarah, but no. They were referring to the conflict of interest between Will and me. Because he told them we were already dating. “You’re un-fucking-believable, Mershano.”
His chuckle only infuriated me more. I reacted without thinking and lunged at him, only to find myself on my back beneath him on the couch.
“Okay, first? I knew it was an inevitability. And second, the agreement was worded in a way that implied my preexisting tie to you, not your commitment to me. You admitted months ago that you admired Garrett’s gift for words. Trust me when I say he applied that to my agreement with Baker Brown.”
“It doesn’t matter. The partners inferred it the way you intended.” God, I was such an idiot. They’d even offered to let me read it, but I’d naively said no.
And what would you have done? Great fucking question.
“Of course they did, but have they treated you any differently over the last few weeks for it? Because I recall Janet singing your praises on that call Friday. They respect the hell out of you, Dawson. And if you think a relationship with me is going to affect your career, then we need to work on your confidence.”
I glowered up at him. “This is not so much about my confidence as your making assumptions.”
“It was never an assumption. Our attraction to each other has always been mutual, and you know it.”
I scoffed at that. “You believe what you want.” I only said it because he had pissed me off, and seeing his expression change from amused to disappointment had me regretting it in an instant.
“Denying it does nothing to move us forward.” His soft tone hit me right in the gut, but it was his next words that nailed my heart. “If anything, belittling our connection pushes us backward, and that’s the opposite of fighting, Dawson. And not what we agreed to.” He pushed off of me and left the living area.
My mouth opened and closed. I didn’t know what to say. What started as a tentative conversation about our future blew up into a disagreement over his presumptuousness.
Discussing the nature of our relationship with my firm behind my back grated on my nerves, yet his reasons were genuine. He meant to save me from an even more embarrassing situation of having to talk with the partners about a sexual relationship with Will during the project.
By mentioning it up front, he kept our interactions honest and also saved my reputation. The partners probably thought Will selected the firm because of our relationship, which was essentially true. We weren’t intimate until recently, but we already had a connection. One I’d just denied outright.
I palmed my forehead and blew out a breath. Controlling any aspect of my career reminded me too much of Ryan, except unlike my ex, Will did it with my best intentions in mind. The partners did treat me differently, but in a positive way. They knew my name and were directly involved in my work, and my career had never been in a better position. I always had the skills, but never the opportunity to shine, and Will had given that to me.
His overzealousness often irritated me, but it also floored me. The man bent over backward to break down my barriers and convince me to take a chance on him. Adding the conflict of interest clause also showed that he cared about protecting me from the ramifications of sleeping with my client. And it implied that he considered the long-term implications, not the short-term.
He fought for us at every turn, and I’d thrown a fit at our first hiccup. Granted, it was a big one, but not unforgivable. Will was a man who knew what he wanted and went after it, and he would never apologize for doing whatever it took to achieve it. Even if that included admitting our relationship to others before confirming it with me. Because at the end of the day, he was right. The attraction was always there from the second he stepped into my office all those months ago. It served as my primary reason for turning down his employment offers and the reason I should have requested the firm not assign me to his project.
I ran my hand over my face and stood up. His final words reverberated in my chest as I traced his path to the kitchen of the suite. He stood braced over the counter, his focus on the cabinet. A glass of amber liquid stood off to the side, surprising me. Will always drank wine. Always. The tense line of his shoulders was even more prominent in his crisp white dress shirt. He’d rolled the sleeves to his elbows, exposing his flexed forearms as he gripped the marble surface.
“I never meant to force your hand,” he said in that same soft voice from a few minutes ago. “But I knew you would see it that way. I only wanted to avoid complicating your career.” He picked up the glass and finished the alcohol before setting it in the sink.
I grabbed his arm as he tried to pass. “Will . . .”
“It’s been a long day, and I need a minute before I go meet with the security team. You can berate me more when I get back.” He sounded so defeated, and when he left the kitchen without even looking at me, my heart ached. The confident man I’d come to adore was nowhere to be seen. Did he think this would push me over the edge to end things between us?
The snick of the door as it closed echoed through the now-empty suite. It seemed to answer my unspoken question.
For the first time since we’d met, Will walked away.
He didn’t argue in that clever way of his.
He didn’t try to win me over with a flirtatious comment or a charming grin.
He didn’t push.
He left.
25
Fighting for a Future
Pissaladière.
That’s what the Mershano Suites employee called the pizza he brought up to the room thirty minutes ago. It looked savory enough, but my stomach was too cramped to eat. Will had yet to return, and the meal only served one.
“Mister Mershano says you try this wine,” the older man had said with a thick French accent. The glass of red stood untouched with the recorked bottle behind it. My fingers kept inching toward it, but I wanted my mental faculties fully charged for his return.
I paced the suite again, walking through both bedrooms and out onto the balconies overlooking Nice. The balmy air did little to warm my exposed arms. My blue dress was one of our purchases from the weekend. Will called it beautiful this morning before wrapping his arms around my back and kissing me so hard that I forgot how to move. Thinking about it gave me butterflies, which did not mix well with the nerves rattling around inside of me.
“Damn it.” My whisper disappeared into the night, floating somewhere in the streets of Nice below. I wanted to admire the gorgeous view but couldn’t. Not because of the lack of sunlight, but because my eyes refused to focus.
I hurt Will.
Me.
And my angry words.
Despite his meddling, he meant well, and I knew that. But in the moment, I’d reacted irrationally to a deep-seated pain brought on by years of living under a man’s control. Will wasn’t Ryan. I knew that on a logical level, but my wounds never fully healed.
Rattling came from the living area behind the shee
r curtain, and I turned as Will entered with two suit-clad men. He met my gaze briefly as I walked in, but didn’t hold it or smile like he usually did.
“Rachel, this is Beau and Sam. They’ll be accompanying us to the meetings this week.” His professional tone sent a chill down my spine. I’d heard it plenty of times before, but he hadn’t directed it my way in what felt like forever, which was actually closer to a week.
Had we only kissed six days ago? Our relationship seemed so much older than that. Because I fell for him the first day we met. Now, if only I could admit that out loud.
“Rachel?” Will’s saying my name had me returning from my thoughts. His furrowed brow suggested I’d missed something he said.
“Sorry, right. Hi.” I extended my hand to Sam first, then Beau. They were night and day in appearance. Sam had a sly, light-on-his-feet look to him, while his counterpart exuded a quiet authority. Both flashed me a grin, and Sam’s included dimples. Not sexy ones like Will’s, but they were cute and added to the man’s overall lanky charm.
“Rachel, I thought you might want to hear more about their backgrounds and roles in our plans this week,” Will murmured. “So I’ll leave you all to chat. Gentlemen, great meeting you. I’ll be in the bedroom if you need me.” He gave the two bodyguards a nod and left us standing in the living area.
Uh . . . I tried to smile at the men but failed. “Sorry, I’m not feeling like myself tonight.”
“No worries, ma’am,” Beau replied, his voice deep. “Hernandez gave us an overview of the situation before we arrived, so we’re up to speed. We’re both former Special Forces and trained to blend in with our surroundings. So if we’re doing our jobs right, you won’t even notice us.”
“Unless you need to,” Sam added with another easy grin. I sensed he was the down-to-earth one of the pair. “We’re here as a precaution only, Miss Dawson. And we’ll do our best to stay out of your way.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Do you have any questions for us?” Beau asked, his vivid blue eyes intense.
“Umm . . .” My brain refused to function. All I could think about was Will’s professional demeanor and easy dismissal. He’d left without looking at me again, and it left a sour taste in my mouth. As for asking these men questions, I had none. Will likely questioned them thoroughly over the last ninety minutes. “I don’t have any right now.”
“Very good, ma’am. Mister Mershano knows where to find us, so feel free to reach out if you need anything.” Beau held out his hand again, and I shook it, followed by Sam’s.
Both men let themselves out after advising me to lock up. I did as they asked before hunting down their boss. I found him leaning on the balcony outside the master bedroom with another glass of amber liquid in his hand. He didn’t say anything as I joined him, and kept his forearms on the railing with his gaze on the city. I couldn’t tell if his silent treatment was a result of being deep in thought or not knowing what to say. So I broke the ice with the obvious question.
“Since when do you drink scotch?” I asked. And where the hell had he found it? He never stopped in the kitchen. Was there a minibar in the bedroom?
“It’s cognac, which is produced by doubly distilling white wines in certain regions of France.” He finished the glass and set it aside without looking at me. “Are you okay with hiring Beau and Sam?”
I studied his profile. “They’re your employees. I’m not going to give an opinion one way or another.”
“They’re here to protect you, Rachel.” He finally met my gaze, and what I saw there stole the air from my lungs. Uncertainty mingled with hurt behind a mask of forced professionalism. “I don’t want to make assumptions on your behalf, so I’m going to need your input. Are you comfortable with me hiring them, or should I ask Hernandez to send new candidates?”
His use of the word assumptions was deliberate, but not in an accusatory or provocative way. My reaction to his decision to sign the conflict of interest form had made him so uncertain that he needed my input now on something we both knew already had my approval.
“We both know I’m okay with it, Will.”
He studied me for a minute, then nodded and turned his focus back to the view. “They come highly recommended, and interviewed well. I’ll let Hernandez know.” This professional facade needed to end. I laid my hand on his arm, and he tensed. His reaction kicked me right in the gut.
“Will.” I had to pause to swallow the knot in my throat. “Look, I’m not happy about what you did, but I understand why you did it. And it saves me from having an awkward conversation after this business trip.”
The tension in his arm didn’t lessen, nor did he redirect his attention. It left me feeling alone and a little shunned. Maybe he was mad.
“Do you remember the first day we met? In your office at Baker Brown?” He ran his fingers through his hair and huffed a laugh. “Because I do. Vividly. I walked in with certain expectations, one of them being an over-and-done-with conversation where you reviewed the contract and gave Sarah the approval she needed to continue with the show, but one look at you turned my entire world upside down. I think it was your fiery blue eyes that hooked me and your mouth that reeled me in for the fight.” He shook his head and let it fall to stare at his hands.
“My dad loved my mom more than everything in this world,” he continued, voice soft. “And after they died, I went to live with my aunt and uncle, who have a relationship on the opposite side of the spectrum. The change was a bit of a shock, but it did teach me a valuable lesson. It taught me what I want out of life: a partner, someone to love the way my father loved my mother, someone to build a future with . . . It’s taken me a long time to find the right woman, but my dad always said I would know, that she would knock me off my feet with a glance. And that day in your office, his words proved true.”
His gaze burned as it met mine. “We’ve never been just friends, not in my mind anyway, and being up-front with Baker Brown was the only way I knew how to protect your career. I mean, the first day we met, I stayed the night at your apartment. Nothing happened, but they don’t know that. And I’ve been courting you ever since. To feign only a professional interest would be a lie, and I consider myself an honest man. I’ve wanted you for months, and I know you wanted me, too, but it’s on you to admit it to yourself. There’s only so much I can do here, Rachel. Our relationship will never work if I’m the only one willing to fight for it.”
Each word slammed into me with a force that left me winded. My fingers curled into his forearm for support, or maybe I just needed to cling to him, because his stature and tone said this was a pivotal moment for our relationship. He’d done everything up until this point to win me over, while I’d done everything in my power to push him away. And today, when I denied his claim regarding a mutual attraction, had finally tipped him over. I could see it in his eyes, the defeat and the exhaustion and the lurking doubt that this may never work. It was a result of my constant refusal to admit out loud what I knew in my heart.
Whatever I said next would define us. If I denied it yet again, I risked him walking away. A week ago, I would have done exactly that to protect him and myself, but things had changed between us.
Tonight, I would need to tell him everything or risk losing him forever.
26
Making a Point
Trust.
I swallowed hard and gathered the strength to do this, to confide my deepest fears to a man who could so easily destroy me. It helped that he knew about Ryan, but there were other things I hadn’t admitted yet. Not out loud, anyway.
“You asked if I remember the day we met.” He meant it as a rhetorical question, but I figured this would be a good starting point. “I do, but it was different for me. You possessed a confidence that I immediately wanted to challenge, partly because it’s in my nature to do so, but mostly because it unnerved me. I’ve always been drawn to influential men, but after Ryan, I vowed never to be involved with one again.
Then you showed up, all sexy as sin in your expensive suit, and charmed your way into spending the entire day and night with me. Part of me hated how effortlessly you inserted yourself into my life as if you belonged there.”
It infuriated me at the time but also fascinated me. My cheeks heated at the memory of it, how hot and bothered he left me without even trying. I coughed to clear my throat.
“You’re right. The attraction has always been mutual, but unlike you, I haven’t wanted to embrace it. I am still trying to survive the first powerful man I fell for; there is no way I can balance two of you. Not when you have so completely shattered every wall I’ve built to protect myself. You could destroy me, Will. Trusting you not to is taking all my willpower, but I started down that path the second I told you about Ryan.” I placed a hand over my aching heart and allowed all my emotions to show in my eyes. All the pain, the fear, the love . . .
“It may not look like I’m fighting for us on the outside, but that’s only because my struggle is in here.” I tapped my chest for emphasis. “I’m my own biggest obstacle, but I’m trying, Will. I promise you that I am.”
He wrapped his arms around me in a hug that warmed me inside and out. I didn’t realize how cold I’d felt until he embraced me, and I immediately melted into him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart,” he replied, voice soft. “I knew you wouldn’t react favorably to my confession, but I feared it would drive you away. Especially after revealing what you did about Ryan. I’m aware that it was heavy-handed on my part, but I did it to protect you.”
“I know.” I kissed his jaw, then his cheek. “It was the right thing to do. Nothing about our relationship has ever been strictly professional, but I need to know something.” I pulled back to read his facial reaction. “Why did you go through all the trouble of hiring me? Why not just try to date me?”