Bound to You

by Shawntelle Madison

  “Why aren’t you playing?” I asked her when she got quiet.

  “None of the assistants are playing.” Her reply was nonchalant while her gaze fixed on the rolling hills of green and bunkers.

  I very well knew the answer to that question, but I liked hearing her voice. She crossed her slim legs and my hungry gaze swept over them. What I wouldn’t give to feel those legs wrapped around my waist, her arms linked around my neck.

  “True, none of them are playing,” I said, “but I wonder if you’re any good.”

  She pursed her lips. “You’re not missing anything.”

  “I’d like to see. You seem to be good at everything you do.” Good at driving me crazy.

  “You’d be surprised by what I’m not so good at doing.”

  “Humor me.”

  She sighed, her fingers slowly intertwining in her lap. “I’m horrible at sewing, couldn’t catch a ball if someone threw it into my hand, and I have this uncanny ability to run into rabid wildlife.”

  She smiled a bit.

  “Is that it? Most people aren’t good at that.”

  “I’ve sewn an arm sleeve closed before.”

  “I find that hard to believe. You look like the kind of woman who is good with her hands.”

  She rolled her eyes and snorted.

  I continued. “I also find it hard to believe you didn’t call me after I left that message on your phone,” I added.

  We approached the eighth hole as her mouth formed a straight line. “I thought it wise not to answer the call.”

  We pulled to a stop and joined the others. “Or listen to the message I left?” I said.

  She didn’t miss a beat. “I deleted it.”

  A grin spread into my cheeks. Oh, yes, I loved a challenge. Watching her walk ahead of me toward the others filled me with a familiar hunger that hadn’t been satisfied since I’d gathered her in my lap at the opera house.

  My eyes roamed up her long legs to the point where the hem of her golf skirt ended. While Nakamura lined up to do his shot, I stood next to her, taking in the fierceness in her eyes. Her stance was assured, but I’d glimpsed the real Sophie when I’d kissed her at the opera house. That woman looked at me with the kind of hunger that left me hopelessly hard and unable to sleep.

  “So you deleted my voicemail…I rarely call women and leave messages like that,” I whispered to her, but she ignored me.

  I continued. “You’re a professional, Miss Ashton. You’d never chance it if I had something important to say.”

  “I didn’t delete it,” she admitted.

  “So did you listen to it?”

  She didn’t take the bait and remained silent.

  “How about a friendly wager, then, to get things moving? If I get the shot within five paces of the hole, you’ll listen to the message. If I don’t, then you can delete it for real.”

  She bit her lower lip, most likely considering my score versus Nakamura’s. I was in a solid third place—a respectable gap between myself and Nakamura’s second. If I seriously reduced the strokes needed to finish this hole, I’d mess with her plans.

  She crossed her arms. “No deal.”

  I grinned, grabbing the club my caddy extended my way. “So you think I can do it.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  I loved seeing her squirm. “What kind of assistant wants to see her boss choke?”

  “Fine,” she whispered, “but you better adjust your score later if you make it.”

  I’d never played this course before, but golf is all about strategy and control. Those are things I excel at. I took my time with this one and studied the approach. When I caught Sophie frowning at me, I couldn’t help but smile.

  I feigned concern, but I didn’t do it for long. I hit the ball and it landed where I expected it to: four paces from the hole. Not five like I wanted, but hey, I won the bet.

  While Watanabe and even Nakamura spoke with approval, Sophie remained silent and with crossed arms. She didn’t have anything to worry about, though. The next couple of holes I earned an eagle, while on some I caved into Sophie’s request and underperformed. I even tossed in a bogey on the sixteenth hole.

  When I fetched my ball from the sixteenth, I caught her flashing me a wide grin. Seeing her pleased expression felt good.

  By the time we finished the match, though I’d never had a chance to speak to Nakamura personally, something amazing happened.

  “Good game, Mr. Quinn,” Nakamura said to me outside of the clubhouse. “You made me work hard today.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I replied. “This course has a few tricky spots.”

  “I’ll be keeping an eye on you” was all he said after that.

  After handshakes and goodbyes, he entered the clubhouse with his friends. That was it. There were no invitations to discuss business or even share a meal. It took everything I had not to broach the subject, but I had to trust in Sophie.

  Speaking of Sophie, she’d just finished chatting with my caddy and returned to my side.

  Time to collect my reward.

  “I believe someone lost a bet back there?” I said to her.

  I’d lost the match, but I’d won something far more valuable.

  With a sigh, she turned away from me to place her phone to her ear. I waited patiently, knowing very well what she was hearing.

  Once she was done, she didn’t look my way, striding past me toward the path that led to the parking lot. “The message was…unexpected.”

  “And?” I caught up with her.

  She paused, but kept walking. “The answer is no, Mr. Quinn.”

  “The reason being?” If she’d said yes to going out with me, that would’ve been too easy.

  “It’s for the best that we keep things professional. You’re here to conduct business with Nakamura. Not go on dates with your assistant.” Her arms were crossed—almost as if she’d placed a barrier between us—but her breath had quickened. It took self-control on my part not to watch her breasts rise and fall.

  Before she left my side, she had the parting word. “I do appreciate the offer and you’ll be hearing from me soon on our next plan of action.”

  I watched her retreating back, not a bit concerned about how things were playing out so far. By the time I was done with her, she’d have absolutely no reason to say no to me.

  Chapter 11

  Sophie

  I had lied to him about listening to the message. Right to his face, in fact.

  I knew very well what he’d said. Ignoring the words was easier than thinking a man like Xavier Quinn had any interest in me other than sex. Keeping that in mind made it easier for me to see him today.

  “I want to see you tomorrow night,” he began in his lengthy message. Sleep and desire lined his words and he filled me with a need that kept me from sleeping well that night. “No strings attached,” he continued. “No entanglements. I like your company, Miss Ashton, and if I have to have a casual dinner with you to be with you, I’m willing to do it. But be ready: when I make my move, you won’t see it coming.”

  His message circled like a shark in my head. Even after I deleted the voicemail for good measure. The gesture was a futile one. He’d said the words I hadn’t heard in such a long time.

  The game today had been so much fun. He laughed. I laughed. He’d let go and that had been refreshing. After so many instances where I had to justify saying no, the wager had caught me off guard.

  No strings attached. No possible entanglements. I told myself I couldn’t have a causal dinner with him, even if it had been a celebration for losing.

  Instead of spending the evening alone, I called Penny and forced her to have dinner with me. I needed to have a little chat with her.

  After texting back and forth a few times, we agreed to meet that evening at an Irish pub where Penny said the bartenders offered the best view.

  I asked Lana if she wanted to join us, but the sullen look on her face told me she’d be chained to her books u
ntil the early morning.

  “I’m biochemistry’s bitch…” Lana groaned as I left. I nodded and offered to bring something back. Even biochemistry bitches need love, too.

  St. Dominic’s Place in Restaurant Row on a Wednesday was as I’d expected. I didn’t have any connections there, so I had to wait in line. Just like a regular person.

  I managed to get a table and I waited for Penny—who took her damn time showing up. “Penny time” was never everyone else’s time.

  I’d emptied a small basket of chips when she sauntered into the place.

  “What took you so long?” I asked. I was about ready to tackle any passing waiter who had food. The last waiter, a gorgeous black guy, was carrying four steaming platters of chicken potpie and homemade chips.

  “I might get a promotion, Soph.” Delight danced in her brown eyes.

  So what does a promotion in the at-home phone-sex world mean?

  We ordered our food—two roasted chicken salads—and I tried to think of how the hell I was going to broach the subject of my future participation in any of her phone calls.

  So I waited until her mouth was full of food.

  “There’s something I wanted to discuss with you.” I gathered my thoughts while I stirred the salad around. Hurting Penny’s feelings wasn’t my intent. “It’s about this phone-sex girl thing. I can’t do this for you anymore. I’m just not good at it.”

  Penny’s right eyebrow rose. “Bill left you quite the tip on my account.”

  I shrugged.

  “I bet you enjoyed it, Sophie.” Her knowing smile filled her face from the top of her straight black hair to her glossy light brown lips. “Everything you did to Bill, someone else has done that to you.”

  She leaned closer as if to share a secret. “As a personal concierge, you do a great job taking care of other people. I just wish you took care of yourself, too. That means forgetting about Sato, by the way.”

  So, it’s like that? “I have.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What about the packages in your closet?”

  “I threw away the last batch.” Just the last batch, unfortunately. “They’re all trash.”

  “Two of them had been opened. They had gifts and apology letters.”

  “Opened, then trashed.” I wasn’t going to discuss this topic. I refused to go there.

  Instead of replying, she glanced up as if there was someone behind me.

  “What’s wrong?” I turned to see Xavier standing there.

  My heart jumped into my throat once my gaze locked with his. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and gray slacks. What in the world was he doing here? And the next question, how long had he been standing there?

  “Mr. Quinn,” I breathed.

  “So did you decline my offer for dinner since you already had other plans?” He placed his warm hand on my shoulder.

  I froze. Then suspicion pulsed through me. “How did you…?”

  “Lana was quite helpful.”

  I held in a sigh, my anger growing by the minute. Sharing my whereabouts with my clients was a no-no. All it probably took was one wink from Xavier and Lana probably fell over herself to give him my latitude and longitude coordinates.

  I quickly got up and thrust my index finger at his unyielding chest. “First of all, I don’t appreciate you coming here like this,” I whispered.

  The amused expression on his face told me he didn’t care how he got here.

  “My personal time is my time, Mr. Quinn, and I—” A bright light flashed to my left and I turned with horror to see Penny taking our picture.

  “That’s what he looks like,” Penny chirped into her cell. “Little Miss Thing has been keeping information from us.” That little snitch was most likely on the phone with the one person I didn’t want to know about Xavier yet.

  Carlie.

  “Who’s your friend?” he asked me.

  “This is Penny. We grew up together.” I gestured to Xavier. “Penny, this is—”

  “Oh, I know who he is.” Her grin widened. “What I’d like to know is how you know him.”

  I opened my mouth to state my innocence, then I noticed something weird. Four couples passed me on the way to the door. Then two more. Why was everyone leaving?

  “Is there an emergency?” Penny asked.

  Xavier directed me, still slightly fuming, to my seat, and then he sat down in one of the free chairs. “No. I just paid for a little privacy.”

  Penny and I glanced around. Everyone was leaving. There was no way he could’ve paid a little bit of money to clear out a restaurant filled with diners.

  “I told you I wanted to have dinner with you, Miss Ashton. You did decline my little offer, but waiting has never been my strong point.”

  Across from me, Penny was beaming with amusement, giving a blow-by-blow to Carlie. “He had asked her out and she’d said no. Unbelievable. The man is fine and he is doting on her.”

  My face warmed and I noticed my clenched fists in my lap. The temptation to get up and leave was strong.

  “Seeing as you two are nice and cozy—” Penny began.

  “We are not nice and cozy. You and I were eating and chatting,” I hissed.

  Penny winked at me on the way out. “Carlie said she’ll give you a call soon. Not tonight, though. She hopes you’ll be preoccupied.”

  I yelled to her back, “The next time you need a favor, Penny, I’m telling your customer that your orgasms are a recording!”

  Penny simply tossed a wave over her shoulder. Lovely.

  Once the restaurant emptied to just us and the staff, I couldn’t even look at him. Did he hear any of my conversation with Penny?

  “You look good tonight,” he finally said.

  Since I was having a casual dinner with my roommate, I’d just worn a cream-colored sweater dress.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, unsure of what to say. Maybe I need to leave. Or perhaps You’ve crossed the line, Mr. Quinn.

  But also the very idea of getting up bothered me, too. I placed my hand on my clutch purse, but I didn’t pick it up. I missed going out for reasons other than business.

  If I stayed, though, what did all this mean? My grip on my bag tightened.

  “Stay,” he said firmly.

  It wasn’t a request. It was a command that flowed over me like silk over pebbled nipples.

  I let go of the purse and placed my hands in my lap. “Fine.”

  Time stretched out a bit. The intensity of his gaze made it hard for me to focus. We were face-to-face again with unsaid words hovering around us. What does this date mean? How can you go on a date with someone you’re attracted to without thinking of something more?

  “Surprised you don’t have more to say to me. You were so chatty during the golf game,” he remarked. “You’re quiet now.”

  Right now he’d caught me off guard. I worked crowds. Having him all to myself was another deal. I crossed and recrossed my legs. Maybe I even licked my lips for a third time.

  “You don’t need my help tonight,” I managed. “I guess I’m without words. Is there something you’d like to ask me right now?”

  He shook his head and the waiter appeared.

  “Anything I can offer the lady of the evening to drink?” the thickset, tattooed man offered.

  Xavier glanced my way and tilted his head. “May I offer a suggestion?”

  “Sure.”

  “Two Cusqueñas, please.”

  The waiter nodded. “Good choice.”

  Once the waiter left, Xavier picked up his chair and brought it over to my side of the table. It felt strange, to be honest. Sitting next to him, side by side, in a pub.

  “You’re like a mouse caught in a trap. I like that. What’s on your mind?” he finally asked.

  “You want the truth?”

  “I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

  “Why did you come here?” Might as well get to the point.

  His smile widened. “I asked myself the same thing.” He placed the ti
p of his finger under my chin and pushed up so that I met his gaze. “The answer was simple: I couldn’t find a reason not to see you more.”

  I melted into his light blue eyes every single time he discussed logic and reason. Hadn’t he said what was happening between us was inevitable? Did that mean I was practically lining up for disappointment the day he walked out the door?

  “True.”

  His hand drifted down my cheek, over to my arm, and then my wrist. Goosebumps formed where he touched me.

  “I’d like to get to know you better, Sophie.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  He shrugged. “You said you travel a lot. Tell me more.”

  He finally coaxed a smile out of me. “I leave the U.S. a lot more than I used to. Now I have to explore sites for my clients, but I’d like to travel to enjoy things like regular people. See the cheesy tourist spots instead of the exclusive clubs. Buy cheap knockoff souvenirs instead of bobbles and such that nobody could ever afford.” My hand went up to defend my last statement. “Not that I don’t like shiny stuff, but I’ve grown up with less, and I’ve learned that the most valuable things to have are connections and not possessions.”

  “Connections?” His hand continued to rest on my wrist and I wanted to squirm from the closeness. His knee settled against mine and my concentration faltered.

  “Back before I was in this line of work, I was a secretary at a hotel in New York City. Not a bad job, and I was damn good at it. I could talk to anyone and I made customer satisfaction look easy.” I smiled from the old memories. That was a great time for me. The world had possibilities and I was hungry to explore them.

  “As much as I loved NYC, Carlie was in Boston and I missed her, so I relocated here. My best friend got me my first concierge client and after that the rest, as they say, is history. Since that point, I’ve been collecting connections.”

  “So you’re practically a human LinkedIn website waiting to happen?”

  I chuckled. “You could say that.”

  His eyes met mine and I looked away again. This connection between us made my breath hitch and my heart beat faster.