Brand (The Donovan Dynasty)

by Sierra Cartwright

  The recognition that she meant little to him was devastating. It would take all her resolve to forget about him and keep her own thoughts in perspective.

  She turned off the faucet and wished she could turn off her emotions as easily.

  * * * *

  Sofia lost her breath.

  She stepped off the elevator at the eighteenth floor of Donovan Worldwide to see Cade standing in the lobby area, legs spread shoulder-width apart. He had on a blue Western shirt covered by a black blazer. His jeans hugged his thighs, and his expression was partially hidden by his cowboy hat. The sight of him devastated her.

  In the forty-eight hours they’d been separated, she’d told herself their time together hadn’t been as incredible as she’d remembered. To him, she was certain, she was a woman interchangeable with any other sub.

  But when he moved toward her, she realized she’d been lying to herself.

  The experiences at the Running Wind had indelibly affected her, changed her, and she was grateful to have had the opportunity. It had exposed her to a whole new dimension of sexuality, and she felt more confident as a result. Or had, until he put a finger beneath her chin.

  “I didn’t expect to see you,” she said.

  “I figured it would cut down on a lot of back and forth. I’m told we’ve lost too much time as it is.”

  “That’s true.” She wondered, though. He didn’t need to be here. He could have attended via conference or video call. As she wasn’t sure what his presence really meant, if anything, she tightened her grip on her shoulder bag.

  After a few seconds of silence, he moved his finger. “This way.”

  He led her down a hallway to a room with a small, round table.

  A peach hibiscus bush appeared to be in danger of taking over an entire wall. Three peace lilies sat on the windowsill and a fourth was perched in the middle of the table. There was a counter with bottles of water and a single-cup beverage maker with about a dozen different choices of tea, hot chocolate, coffee. With the greenery and amenities, the space felt homey, not like a place to make decisions in the country’s fourth largest city.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Cade asked as the door closed behind him.

  “No, thanks.”

  “I want something.”

  Frowning, she turned to face him.

  Before she could react, his hands were on her shoulders and he had her against the wall.

  Her insides melted.

  He nudged one of his legs between hers and she complied with his unspoken demand, bringing her pelvis against his thigh.

  Mindless of her bag, he pinned her arms at her sides.

  Her mouth parted, more in welcome than protest.

  To him, for him, she was helpless.

  His eyes were that determined gray, and he held her gaze ensnared.

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  She shifted, and that brought them closer. “Cade—”

  With his ruthless mouth, he cut her off, silencing her words and simultaneously devouring her.

  In instant capitulation, she closed her eyes. She’d needed this, dreamed of it.

  Helpless, she responded, giving herself over his to aggressiveness.

  She jerked, already aroused.

  The damnable, frustrating, astounding man brought her to orgasm with only his leg and his kiss.

  She went limp, collapsing into his strength.

  He released her left wrist so that he could thumb his hat back. And he grinned down at her.

  “The meeting,” she said, glancing at the door.

  “I locked the door. I didn’t drive five hours this morning to not get a kiss.”

  “You…?”

  “Got up at three o’clock.”

  He had wanted to see her. Her heart raced, even as she urged herself toward caution. “I’m not sure what to say.”

  “How about thank you for the orgasm? Unless you’d prefer that I don’t get you off in the future?”

  She swallowed, realizing how tight his grip was on her right wrist. How was it possible that a single sentence re-established his dominance?

  “I’m waiting.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Still waiting.”

  “Thank you for letting me come,” she said quietly.

  He finally released her wrist and took a step back. She rubbed the place where his thumb had bitten into her skin while he went to unlock the door.

  Struggling to get her breathing under control and make sense of what had just happened, she placed her bag on the conference table.

  A moment later, Erin breezed in.

  Her confidence was stunning, so very different from what Sofia had witnessed when Erin had fled out the front door of the country club.

  Sofia guessed that the Donovan sister was about five foot four, but that was before she slipped into unimaginably tall heels. Sofia knew she’d topple over if she tried to wear something like that. But Erin rocked three-inch heels with sequined butterflies just above the peep-toe front.

  Her form-fitting skirt couldn’t draw attention away from the bustier beneath a black blazer.

  Her smile welcomed, but Sofia was focused on Erin’s hair. She had the light-blonde length piled on top of her head, secured with a couple of pens. For the reception, she’d had dark-blonde highlights. Today, she had fire-engine red ones.

  The ensemble wasn’t entirely corporate, but she managed to look stylish and edgy.

  “Nice to see you again,” Erin said, extending a hand.

  Sofia accepted, but the greeting was short-lived once Erin noticed her brother. “Cade! What are you doing here? You didn’t say you were coming. Did you?” She hurried toward him and launched herself into his arms for a massive hug. “How long are you staying?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Well, shit.”

  Sofia had the same reaction. Not that his plans should concern her.

  “I was here last week,” he said.

  “For the reception?” She waved a hand, and half a dozen thin bracelets jangled. “That doesn’t count. You were here five minutes.”

  “Twenty-four hours.”

  “We didn’t even get to go out.”

  “You know where the ranch is,” he said.

  “It’s like that thing has tentacles that keep you tethered to it.”

  “Roots,” he said.

  Erin looked at the hibiscus and shuddered. “What is it with you people? There’s nothing wrong with the concrete jungle.”

  “Unless you want to breathe,” Cade countered.

  “Fine,” she protested. She turned back to face Sofia with a smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you, but I never know when I’m going to get a minute with my big brother.”

  “I totally understand.” More than she could know. Sofia distributed folders in front of each chair. “Is it okay to move this plant?” she asked, knowing she’d never be able to see everyone comfortably with it sitting in the middle of the table.

  “Is Aunt Kathryn coming?” Erin asked Cade.

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “In that case, yes, we can move this monster,” she said. “Be grateful she hasn’t gotten around to bringing in a goldfish bowl.”

  “Really?” Cade asked.

  “They promote a tranquil environment.” Erin shrugged. “Supposedly.”

  “Can’t blame her for trying,” Cade said.

  Erin scooped up the peace lily that was on the table and moved it to the windowsill and jammed it in with the others. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Coffee,” Cade replied.

  “I didn’t ask you.”

  “Want a noogie, pest?”

  Sofia lowered her head to hide her grin at their easy banter. She appreciated seeing the softer side of him. From what she knew of Cade, he was overly serious, weighed down by life and a past he refused to talk about. Almost all of their interactions had been intense, and she’d only seen a f
ew genuine smiles and even fewer laughs—and those had been because of Loopy.

  “Sofia?” Erin asked.

  She shook her head. “I’m good.”

  Cade brewed his own coffee. “Don’t suppose Thompson’s around?”

  “He should be. He’s hardly left the office since Connor has been on his honeymoon.” Erin shrugged. “Text him.”

  “Thompson?” Sofia asked.

  “He’s Connor’s admin. The place couldn’t run without him. He’s Donovan Worldwide’s secret weapon, but his coffee is the worst on the planet. The worst. I heard it was once confused with ninety-weight gear oil. I think the stuff’s in his veins. It’s why he’s able to stay at his desk something like twenty hours a day.”

  “He was in the military,” Cade offered, as if that explained everything.

  “Special super-secret something,” Erin added.

  Despite Erin’s dire words, Cade sent a text message.

  “He’d bring you a coffee, really?” Sofia asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Erin replied. “It’s one of his greatest delights. He admires anyone who can put it in their gullet. Mark of masculinity or something.”

  “It’s really pretty good.”

  “You and Lara are the only two who can actually drink it.”

  The three were seated at the table when William Donovan entered the room, leaning lightly on a cane.

  Cade stood, and so did Sofia.

  “Cade,” the man said with a sharp nod.

  “Colonel.”

  “Didn’t know you’d show up. About damn time you took an interest in something to do with the family.”

  “Granddaddy,” Erin said, obviously trying to distract him. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “What in the Sam Hill are you wearing?”

  “This?” She stood and removed her jacket before doing a little pirouette. “It’s a bustier.”

  “Since when do you work as a stripper?”

  “It’s casual Friday.” Erin laughed easily. “I’m modeling one of the lines we’ll be carrying at the corset shop.”

  “Put the jacket back on. Cade, give her yours, as well. Christ, does anyone have a fucking blanket?”

  The man lowered himself gingerly into a chair.

  “I’ve already had one stroke,” he explained to Sofia. “And my granddaughter’s trying to give me another.”

  “A lot of women wear them,” she said. “Aunt Kathryn ordered one.”

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Was your trust fund not enough? Now you’re trying to kill me off?”

  “You’ll live longer if you loosen up,” Erin said, sounding unconcerned. “Coffee? Tea?”

  “Valium,” he replied.

  “Tea it is.”

  “You’re as intolerable as your aunt.”

  “Green tea,” she said, unperturbed. “Not black.”

  Sofia’s finger had been hovering over the Running Wind icon on her tablet, and she’d been looking at each Donovan in turn. All so amazingly alike. Stubborn. Committed. Resolved. Proud. And family. Loving in their own ways. Despite the words, there was an underlying affection she recognized.

  While Erin brewed a green tea for her grandfather, Sofia touched the Running Wind icon to open her presentation. “I had the opportunity to visit the ranch this week. It gave me some ideas. Before I get started, can I hear what everyone has been thinking?”

  Cade remained quiet.

  Erin said, “I don’t have a lot of suggestions, as long as the right people get invited.”

  William nodded.

  “Let me show you a couple of slides.” She advanced to a picture of a tent. Then she showed some mockups of the barn, decorated for an event. “We have some realities. Weather in South Texas in fall is likely going to be beautiful. But it might not be.”

  The Colonel nodded.

  “I’d considered a formal. The more I thought about it, something more casual seemed to fit.”

  Though Erin had said she had no real opinion, she wrinkled her nose at that idea.

  “The event is significant, and so it should be special,” Sofia continued. “I think we need to start with a formal presentation.” She went on, showing the barn set up with rows of chairs and a stage up front. She had an American flag on one side, the Texas flag on the other. A banner with the Running Wind logo hung from a back beam.

  “The whole ranch is turning a hundred,” the Colonel corrected. “The Running Wind is only part of that.”

  “Of course. Those details are crucial. That’s why having you involved is important to the success of the event.”

  She caught Cade’s quick smile and drank encouragement from it. “You should consider being first on the evening’s program. You’ll need an emcee. Erin, that may be a good role for you. Of course, the program is something that you all should figure out.”

  Everyone nodded.

  “A plated meal is cumbersome, formal and expensive. And buffet lines can be unwieldy. So I’m recommending you have food stations in a party tent. Of course, with ranch beef.” She showed pictures of what she meant, and she’d included pictures of Santa Gertrudis and Brahman cattle. “And maybe flavors of South Texas, including Mexican favorites. And of course, desserts. I’m thinking an ice cream sundae bar for the kids.”

  “I’m not seeing chicken wing cupcakes on here,” Erin teased.

  Cade shuddered.

  “It would be tricky, time-wise, but while your guests are dining, we can reset the barn for dancing. The band can use the stage. We can set up photo booths in the loft.”

  Erin nodded.

  “You can decide if you want outdoor activities for the kids. Maybe a bounce house. You can have a mechanical bull, as well.” She flipped to her final slide, of a couple. The man was in a stylish suit jacket and bolo tie. The woman had on a short black dress and turquoise leather boots. Behind them hung a sign that read Denim and Dazzle.

  “I like it,” Erin said. “So ladies don’t have to wear heels if we get rain.”

  “How much does something like this cost?” the Colonel asked.

  She took price sheets from her folder and distributed the first two pages together. “A plated sit-down meal is on the first page. The second is for a food station.” She handed out more pages. “Here you’ll find costs for the presentation, including audio-visual and a program. Then the entertainment options are on the second page. Logistics are on the fifth page. This includes things like signage, security, buses to shuttle people to and from Waltham since we don’t have parking available for over two hundred vehicles.”

  “Another option is to park over by the corral and bring people in via golf carts,” Cade said.

  She nodded. “That could knock down the price.”

  “And take a lot of carts and drivers,” Erin said. “People will be pissed if they have to wait in long lines. Could we set up the event over there?” Erin asked.

  “Also a possibility. If that’s something you’d like to consider, we can. And I don’t know how long it would take you to put together a rodeo?”

  Cade shook his head. “Too much work on the bleachers, the pens.”

  William nodded.

  “Again, if you’re looking for moneymaking options, it may be something to have a look at for future use.” Continuing, she brought out her last page. “Here are the beverage options. I suggest iced tea, soft drinks, kegs of beer and wine. Hard liquor isn’t really necessary at the event, and it adds another expense, including the need to have additional bartenders. Of course, we’re happy to arrange it if that’s what you would like to do.”

  She took a breath, trying not to be deterred by the sudden silence. Over the last few days, getting the bid had started to matter to her. And it bothered her to realize it was only because of Cade. Her company was really the only choice when it came to an event the size of the Donovans’. But she wanted to keep working with him. Continuing on as if this were any other event, she said, “Here’s pricing for alcohol.” With that, she dist
ributed the final piece of paper.

  “Someone hand me a pill,” William said.

  “I’ll get you a paper bag to breathe into,” Erin replied. “Now stop scaring Sofia.”

  “Maybe we just turn all our third quarter earnings over to…” He flicked a glance at the top of the page. “Encore.”

  “Oh. Plus tax,” Sofia added.

  Cade lowered the brim of his hat. Erin grinned.

  There was a knock at the door and a big man entered. Thompson, she assumed. He had massive shoulders, a bald head and an impressive scar. His broad smile served as a contrast to his intimidating posture. He carried a tray, a silver coffeepot, several mugs, a pitcher for creamer and a sugar bowl.

  “Thompson,” Cade said. “Our savior. Not sure how this company ever ran without you.”

  “Brought a couple of extra mugs.”

  “I’m drinking tea,” Erin said, clutching her cup suddenly.

  The Colonel moved his cup closer to him.

  Cade poured a mug and offered it to Sofia. Everyone turned to face her.

  “Uh…”

  “No shame in refusing, miss,” Thompson said. “Not everyone has the same kind of moral fortitude that our Mr. Donovan does.”

  “Moral fortitude?” Erin asked. “Now it’s not just about physical prowess?”

  “Always is,” he affirmed. Thompson grinned at her. “Being a winner is both physical and mental, and the whole thing is strengthened by having a decent character.”

  Cade offered her the mug.

  “You better give her some cream. Maybe some sugar,” Thompson cautioned.

  The two men exchanged glances.

  “What am I missing?” Sofia asked.

  Erin took pity on her. “Thompson always says sugar is for pussies.”

  With a desperate gasp, the Colonel clutched the head of his cane.

  “Present company excepted, of course, Colonel,” Thompson assured. “I would have never said such a thing in front of the ladies.”

  “Is this like some sort of secret handshake?”

  “It is.” Erin nodded. “I’m afraid I’m not a member. But there’s a list on Thompson’s computer with those he’s deemed worthy.”

  “And a very short list it is, Ms. McBride,” he confirmed.

  She couldn’t tell whether or not they were serious.