“Janelle!”
Maggie couldn’t help but laugh. Preston sounded as stern as the father of a teen-age daughter.
“Don’t worry, Janelle,” he said. “I’m giving Nick an exclusive on the charity ball I’m having at Maggie’s bar in two weeks. All we have to do is lock Taralynn out of the press until then. Once we’ve put on our best face to the public, anything she says will just look like sour grapes.”
Maggie grimaced. Preston spoke as if the event had been all his idea. And he’d totally missed the reason she was having the ball. For the children.
“A charity ball?” Janelle sounded excited. “What a positively splendid idea. My but you are a genius.”
Maggie was just about to speak up and thank her when a security guard knocked, then entered the room, Patrice McKenzie in tow. “I found her wandering around downstairs. She said she’s supposed to be at this meeting.”
Not by any stretch of the imagination. Maggie didn’t like this development at all. Patrice was neither a stockholder nor a member of the Board. She would have absolutely no reason to be at this meeting. All the same, she stood, nodded at Patrice and smiled. “Of course you’re welcome here, Aunt Patrice. Please come in and have a seat.”
Maggie made a mental note to warn everyone to watch what they said to her. Even as far away as Key West, she had heard about her aunt’s financial missteps. In fact, Patrice had called her on more than one occasion trying to convince her to invest in some movie or stock offering she was hot on. As far as Maggie knew, nothing had ever come of any of the movies she’d mentioned. And the stocks she’d recommended didn’t appear to have fared any better.
Knowing her aunt the way she did, Maggie felt sure she had very little loyalty left to a company she was not a part of, and would be willing to sell anything she learned of value to the highest bidder without a second thought. Which was probably exactly what had brought her here. A little afternoon prospecting adventure.
Fortunately, the most important news she was going to get, Nick would be splashing all over the press soon anyway. “You’ll just love this, Patrice. We were just discussing the charity ball I’m planning to have.”
Chapter 24
Rod had Taralynn pressed beneath him on his king size bed. Her naked skin felt warm and powder soft against his chest, and her hair smelled like coconut shampoo. He squeezed one of her tits with his hand and thrust into her, meeting the forward motion of her hips one last time before withdrawing so he could last longer. She moaned, digging her fingers into the muscles on the back of his shoulders. One thing to be said for Taralynn; she definitely enjoyed a good fuck. Rod got up, stood in front of her and slammed his hands on his hips.
The meeting at Ty-Ken had not gone as he’d planned, and right now he was seriously questioning his loyalty to Preston. Which gave him all the more satisfaction to be balling the enemy. He regarded her naked body stretched out on his bed. She was kind of skinny, and her ribs showed through her skin. He winked at her. “Satisfied?”
She exhaled, still catching her breath. “Yeah. It was great. If the latest breaking news on Preston is even half that good, I’ll be a very happy lady.”
He reached over and squeezed her thigh. “Don’t worry, babe. As long as you’re with me, you’ll be the most satisfied woman in the country.”
“What about in the world?”
“That too.”
She grinned at him like she had him on a chain. Inwardly, he grimaced at the sight of her sly smile, but outwardly, he just smiled back. He could put up with her thinking she had the upper hand for the time being, but he was beginning to understand why no man really wanted her. A guy would have to be awfully into being pussy-whipped to stay with her for very long.
For now, however, he’d let her think she was in control, and “allow” her to wrangle the story of Maggie’s charity ball out of him. While not important enough to be considered a betrayal of Preston’s confidence, the event would leave her seething with jealousy. She would deem the news very important, indeed.
She rolled over on her belly and swatted at him. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense, lover. What’s Preston up to? Has he really offered Nick a deal for a better story than mine? You know, Nick denied it when I asked him about it on the drive back to my condo after breakfast.”
He tightened his grip on her thigh and pulled her over to the edge of the bed where he sat. So she was fucking Nick, too. And not even trying to hide it from him. Not exactly what he wanted in a wife. “He’s planning on throwing a charity ball with Maggie,” he said, satisfied now at how pissed off the news would make her. “So they can drum up some positive P.R. They’re aiming to gain public sympathy, turn popular opinion against your father’s takeover bid and sway the Special Committee to vote against it.”
“Honestly!” Taralynn snorted at the idea. “Is that really the best that lame-brained idiot can come up with?”
“I guess so.”
He held his breath and waited for her oncoming outburst, signaled by the steadily increasing color in her cheeks.
“Throwing a charity ball with Maggie. Well now, isn’t that just sweet?” She sat up and clenched her hands into fists. “The next thing you know, they’ll be announcing their re-engagement.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.” He certainly hoped not. Maggie would no doubt want him replaced as corporate counsel in favor of dear old Uncle Henry. Irritation sprouted in him like a fast-growing seed. Taralynn still equated everything back to Preston. Everyone did. Preston this and Preston that. He was every bit as good as Preston. Better, in fact. He was smarter, cooler and got laid a hell of a lot more often. Which proved he could also screw better. One of these days, the world was going to stop talking about Preston and start talking about him.
He flicked Taralynn’s hair away from her face. “What do you care anyway?”
“Who says I care?” She pouted.
“You do.”
Her cheeks reddened further. “I do not!”
“Of course you do. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be getting all pissed off right now.”
“You think I’m pissed off because Preston’s out screwing around with Maggie right now?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Of course not! I wouldn’t take that back-stabbing bastard back now if he got down on his knees and begged me.” She paused and smiled at him. “I haven’t forgotten you’re my man now, sweetie.”
He reached down and squeezed her tit. “You sure? Or do I need to fuck you again and remind you?”
“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’m not about to forget who gives me the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“That’s more like it.” She’d damn well better not forget either, or she might find herself in a very uncomfortable position.
She sat up on the bed, rubbing her body against him, half-pouting, half-purring. “Where are Preston and Maggie having this stupid party they’re planning anyway?”
Envy itched itself in every word she spoke. Rod had gotten the response he’d counted on anyway. He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her, starting at her mouth and working his way down her neck. “You don’t really care where they have their stupid party, do you?”
She moaned in response. “Yes, I do.”
“Why?” He pressed his fingers into her hips and continued his suckling, which turned gently into biting.
Taralynn cried out, attempting to jump from his lap, but he pulled her back down on him. Then he rolled her over so that he could enter her from behind. “Why do you want to know where the party’s going to be?”
He thrust into her in a single, solid motion. She gasped and took a moment to catch her breath. “Tell me, please.”
He withdrew and entered her again. “Why do you want to know? I thought I was the only man you think about now?”
“You are…I just…”
“You just what?”
“I just…don’t want them…to get the good…P.R.”
Rod quickened his pace.
He wasn’t satisfied yet. He wouldn’t be satisfied until she volunteered to wear the chain she kept trying to put around his neck.
“Rod, please. Tell me.”
He took her harder now, making sure she felt every inch of him slide inside her. She groaned, low and loud.
“Oh, God, Rod. You are so good.”
“That’s right, baby. I am. I’m the best you’ll ever have.” He tightened his grip on her more, feeling smug at the way she’d been forced to acknowledge his prowess. Having power over her got him off.
He leaned over her until her ear was at his lips. “Since you’re being such a good girl now, I’ll tell you. They’re having the party at Maggie’s bar.”
Chapter 25
Taralynn both tingled and ached from head to toe. She’d never had sex in her life before the way Rod gave it to her. She was back at her condo now. Finally. It was a good thing, too. As much as she’d enjoyed all the orgasms, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to stand, let alone walk, if he’d had sex with her one more time. Besides, she had a few things she needed to take care of now that she was alone. She picked up the phone and called home. It was only eight thirty, so her father would still be up. Better still, he’d think she was staying put at the condo and behaving herself.
“Taralynn, honey,” he answered. “How’s your trip? Enjoying yourself?”
And how. “Of course, Daddy. I spent all day at the beach. You should see the tan I’m getting.”
“I’m sure it’s lovely, dear. You wouldn’t happen to be tanning in front of a bank, or someplace where you might attract financing, would you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Daddy. Even I know it takes more than a good tan to get an investment banker.”
She thought of amending her statement to say it depended on what purpose you wanted to attract an investment banker for, but decided against it. That was not the sort of news her father would appreciate hearing.
“Taralynn, honey, you’re right about needing more than a tan to get the financing this deal is going to require. In order to get money, you have to have money. Fortunately for you, I do have money. And a new investment banker to help me buy Ty-Ken.”
“Daddy, do you? That’s wonderful! Who did you get?”
“The First Bank of London. They’ll go as high as twenty-five billion.”
The name of the bank meant nothing to her. It wasn’t an issuer of one of her credit cards, and therefore had no significance in her life. Her father, however, was happy about making a deal with the bank, and that was good. It would make it easier to get the favor she needed out of him. “You be sure and tell everyone at the bank how much I appreciate their business, Daddy.”
Her father laughed. “I’ll do that, honey. I’m sure they’ll be relieved to hear you approve.”
“You’re not making fun of me, are you?”
“Of course not, princess.”
“Good. Because I’ve been planning more strategies for us to deal with Preston.”
He sighed. “More strategies? What now?”
“You don’t sound very excited.”
“Of course I’m excited, dear. What new idea have you come up with?”
He was definitely not excited, no matter what he’d said. His lack of enthusiasm overpowered the sound of his voice. He really didn’t give her enough credit for figuring things out, but that was his problem. Just meant she could work him a little bit better.
“Well…” She paused, drawing out the moment for as long as possible. She’d learned over the years her father was impatient, and she could get him to agree to almost anything if she made him wait long enough to hear what it was she wanted.
“Well, what?” her father asked. “Is this new idea going to cost me any more money?”
“Of course not.” She had him now. “I just want you to cause Maggie a little problem with keeping her bar open for the next few weeks.”
“Oh is that all?” Her father scoffed. “And you think that’s not going to cost me?”
“Why would it? Surely you have enough friends you can find someone to close down her stupid bar for a little while.”
“Yes, Taralynn. I have a lot of friends. Friends who like money.”
“Daddy, please. This is important. I hate it when you sound like money is more important to you than I am.”
“Taralynn, honey, I didn’t mean….”
“Of course you didn’t. But you made it sound like you did.”
“Very well, dear. Why is it you need Maggie’s bar closed down?”
“Because she and Preston are planning on having a charity ball there for some dumb orphan fund or something.”
“A charity ball? At her bar?” He sounded skeptical. “Well then, it can’t be anything big enough to be worth paying attention to.”
“Of course it will be. The press loves Preston. Don’t you see? He’s trying to win the public’s sympathy so they’ll take his side in this fight with us.”
“Taralynn, I think you’re making too much out of this.”
“Well, I don’t. I don’t want Maggie to be able to have that stupid ball with Preston. And if her bar gets closed down, she can’t.”
“Why can’t she? You don’t think they can simply have the ball someplace else?”
Damn! Why hadn’t she thought of that? She hated it when her father found ways to criticize her plans. However, the perfect comeback quickly occurred to her. “Well, of course they could hold the ball someplace else, but first they’d have to find someplace else. And I’ll bet there aren’t too many places they could find with less than two weeks notice.”
“At least not any places their guests might actually come to.”
Yes! She loved it when she made a point her father agreed with. “Besides,” she continued. “If Maggie’s busy trying to get her bar back open, she’ll be a little too busy to worry about planning a charity ball.”
“Very well, princess.” His sigh this time was heavy with inevitability. “I’ll get the bar closed down.”
“Thank you, Daddy. You’re the greatest!” Taralynn hung up the phone satisfied. She just had one more call to make tonight. She had to call Nick and find out what the hell was going on with the story she wanted him to print.
Chapter 26
Maggie had almost forgotten how nice her father’s house in Palm Beach was. Palm trees and cypress shaded the front yard’s borders. Flowerbeds, which had been landscaped around the deck, now boasted pink roses, lilies and irises. Their scents clung to the air, laced into each breeze that blew by her.
The house had changed since the days of her childhood, however. Her father’s Will had given Maggie a choice between the house in Palm Beach and one in the Bahamas, with the remaining house to go to Patrice. Associating a variety of sad memories with the house in Palm Beach, Maggie had chosen the house in the Bahamas. A choice Preston had loudly criticized, reminding her of the day of her coming out party and the beginning of their relationship.
Patrice, however, couldn’t have been more pleased. She loved this house. And she’d been very busy with additions and renovations in the past three years. A spacious teak deck now took up half the backyard before giving way to a massive infinity pool with zero entry and an adjacent hot tub, which in turn gave way to a long, grassy lawn and then a powdery sand beach on the ocean front. A bar had been built into one side of the pool, with a deck entry for the bartenders to use and four concrete stools poured into the pool, allowing the guests to swim up to the counter and order their drinks. The placed reminded Maggie of a high-priced resort.
Patrice had outfitted the deck with a new chrome furniture set that included a table with eight chairs, three loungers with generously stuffed cushions and a metal fire pit that, judging by its pristine condition, was there solely for decoration. The metal on the furniture had been polished until it gleamed and shone in the sunlight. The deck was spotless and well-organized and everything smelled clean and fresh. The deck, and in fact the entire house, were a te
stament to Patrice’s zeal in impressing her many guests and keeping her name in the society pages. Maintaining her place in the spotlight had always been Patrice’s thing.
Not Maggie’s though. She’d much rather be someplace that wasn’t overloaded with writers and photographers from the social pages. Her father had suspected that, of course. That was why he’d given her first choice of the houses, leaving Patrice with whatever home was leftover. Maggie knew it, and Patrice knew it as well. Edgar McKenzie’s Last Will and Testament had come as no surprise to either one of them, though Patrice had managed to be resentful of it all the same. Even with the house in Palm Beach.
After Maggie’s mother had died from cancer, leaving Edgar with a four-year-old daughter to raise, his sister had stepped in, offering her services as a female role model. Grief-stricken and feeling utterly at a loss as to how to raise a daughter, Edgar had struck a bargain with his younger sister, help him raise his daughter, and Patrice would get a share of his estate.
With her brother on top of the social and financial heap, and her hand firmly in the cookie jar, Patrice had acted the grand dame through and through. She had assumed complete control of the McKenzie social calendar and began planning an endless line up of not-to-be-missed soirees. And, true to her word, she had stepped in to see that Maggie’s dress, education and other social needs met with her seal of approval. Word had quickly spread throughout the affluent community that Patrice was the true power behind the McKenzie throne.
Little did she realize, however, that her status as Edgar McKenzie’s sister was only good as long as Edgar was still alive. Their agreement provided for Patrice to receive only ten percent of his Trust’s assets, and no stock in the company. Upon her brother’s death, Patrice’s party had come to an end, leaving her only with her relationship as Maggie’s aunt on which to pin her social status.
History was complicated, Maggie thought. She leaned back into the lounge chair, only to be interrupted by the grand dame herself.
GRATIFICATION (Desire Never Dies) Page 11