by T. M. Cromer
Ryanne found it difficult to meet Liz’s knowing eyes. Wordlessly, she left Nash’s office to return to her own.
Chapter 3
“You can come out now. She’s gone,” Liz called.
Nash stepped from his office’s en suite bathroom. “You’ve got a mean streak, you know that?”
“I was being honest. You two are crazy about each other. The kiss I walked in on proved you have chemistry. Make a damned move on her already. Tell her you love her.”
“It’s not that simple, cousin.”
Liz went to him and gave him a quick hug around his middle. “It is if you want it to be, Nash. You don’t need to keep everyone at a distance, you know.”
She referred to his rocky family relationships. As the bastard of the great Alastair Thorne, Nash was reviled by many of the others in their family. The exceptions were Liz, his sisters Summer and Holly, and a handful of others he’d helped along the way. Mostly, people feared him.
It was why he found it difficult to reveal to Ryanne exactly who and what he was. “Do you think she’s okay with it?”
Liz understood his meaning. “Surprisingly, yes. On a deeper level, I think she finds you fascinating. It might be the scientific bend to her thinking. That works in your favor.”
“We need to get her on board—soon. If we don’t get the Scorpion from Salinger, we’re all screwed.”
“I know. But you do understand by doing this, you are putting her in grave danger, right?”
“I can’t think about that now, Liz. You only have to take one look at the pulse of the nation and see Salinger has already influenced the political climate on a global scale. People are at each other’s throats on a daily basis through every media over every topic, and they don’t know why. You hear it on the radio, see it on television, and read it on social media. Tell me you don’t feel it; the weight of oppression. That’s to say nothing of the financial markets. If we don’t get that necklace out of Victor’s clutches, the world as we know it is over.”
Nash felt a twinge in his conscience, and the little voice in his head screamed at him to keep Ryanne as far away from this mess as humanly possible. But the truth was, the Red Scorpion necklace was the most powerful magical artifact in existence. It had the ability to ignite wars if it fell into the wrong hands. And Victor Salinger’s were definitely the wrong hands. That money-hungry, power-grabbing bastard intended to be the only player left on the board.
“Nash, tread lightly. You know the family legend. If you do something to inadvertently harm Ryanne, you’ll never be able to live with yourself.”
His temper took hold. “What do you want me to do, Liz? Let Salinger run wild? Ryanne is the identical twin to his arm candy. With the wards Victor has in place, Ryanne is the only one with a chance of getting close to the necklace.”
“For someone with such a high IQ, you can be an idiot, you know that?” Liz snapped. “You’ve loved her since the moment you saw her. Just try to deny it. Go ahead, and I’ll call you a damned liar.”
“So what? I should throw her down on my desk and ravish her like an animal?” Never mind that he’d thought the same thing right before Liz walked into his office. “Nothing can come of it, Liz. My business for the Witches’ Council would put her in the path of unsavory characters if it were known she was anything other than my assistant. As a non-magical human, she’d be a sitting duck.” Nash shook his head and moved to stare out his office window. “No. I can’t do that to her.”
“Oh, but you can put her in Victor’s path?”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Stop plaguing me, woman! Don’t you have work to do?”
“You know damned well that I can snap my fingers and have a week’s worth of projects done. Now answer the question, Nash. How is it different?”
Nash spun and stalked to where Liz stood with her hands on her hips. “It’s the Red Scorpion, Liz. How much more clear do I need to make it?”
The air crackled around them, and they both froze.
“Incoming,” Nash muttered.
A knock sounded at his office door before it opened. Ryanne peeked her head in. She seemed startled to see him. “Your father is here, Nash.”
Her dark, troubled gaze settled on him for a few seconds before she backed out of the door to make room for Alastair, who took one look at both their faces and sighed.
“Well, aren’t you Gloom and Doom.” Alastair flicked his wrist to close the door. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Nash lied as he strode to his desk and shuffled papers there. “What do you want, Alastair?”
His father ignored him to nod at Liz. “Nice to see you again, child.”
“Alastair.”
“How is your mother? We haven’t touched base in a while.”
“She’s well. Thank you.”
“Good. Do you mind if I speak to my son alone?”
Liz shot Nash a questioning glance. He nodded and settled into his chair.
When the door closed behind her, he looked at his father. “Have a seat.”
If one were so inclined, they’d have to admire Alastair’s casual grace. Every gesture was done with minimal fuss or expended energy. He had an old Hollywood elegance about him. Since Nash’s sister Summer had forced Alastair to come into the current decade with clothing and hairstyle, it was impossible to tell the man’s age. He appeared only a year or two older than Nash himself. Not a single living soul would guess Alastair was older than thirty-five, or that he was really forty years older than he looked. Ah, the blessed genetics of a warlock.
“What do you want?” Nash asked again.
Alastair straightened his cuffs before he spoke. “Victor Salinger.”
Inside, Nash swore a blue streak. Leave it to his father to scry and spy on him. Looked like reinforcement of the wards that protected his office was the next item on Nash’s to-do list. “What about him?”
Amusement colored Alastair’s bright blue eyes. “Do you really think I’m as dumb as all that, son?”
Nash lifted a brow.
Alastair barked out a laugh.
“How many times can I ask ‘what do you want’ before I get a straight answer?”
His father steepled his fingers and attempted to hide his smile behind his hands. He failed.
“Look, Dad, I’m not here for your personal amusement. I have work to do. If you can’t get to the point of your little impromptu visit, then I’m going to ask that you leave.”
“I want to help you retrieve the artifact.”
Nash snorted. “I don’t need your help.”
“According to Isis, you do,” Alastair said silkily.
“Fuck.” Achoo!
Alastair had anticipated Nash’s reaction and fisted his hand to prevent the influx of animals. It happened every time he swore. His two sisters were cursed with the same affliction. If someone didn’t react quickly with a magical assist, things could get out of control.
“Thanks,” Nash grumbled.
“See how well we work together?” Alastair grinned his amusement.
A whole list of swearwords danced on Nash’s tongue. He curbed the impulse to utter them. He didn’t need an invasion of crazed raccoons scratching at the windows or frightening his employees.
“Since when have you wanted to work for the Council?”
His father gave a nonchalant shrug. “Since never, but if it will help you…” Alastair let his words trail off. “Truthfully, Victor Salinger is not someone to be trifled with, as you are well aware. As you also know, he was Zhu Lin’s right hand for many years.” Alastair toyed with his cuff links. “I’ll be honest with you, son, Victor was the man who delighted in carrying out the various forms of torture Lin had devised for me. He’s sadistic and shouldn’t be underestimated. You saw him shoot his own sister in Athens. Imagine what he could do to someone you care about.”
While Alastair had never gone into the specifics of his imprisonment by the Dé
sorcelers Society, on rare occasions, he’d let slip a tidbit of information such as the one he’d just revealed.
“Are you worried about me, Alastair?” Nash asked, curious despite himself. He and Alastair had been at odds for nearly two decades. Their father-son relationship went to hell right about the time Nash discovered Alastair had never truly loved his mother and had another family. The two of them had failed to see eye to eye on any one subject since, or if they did, it was grudgingly on Nash’s part.
“You’re my son.” A simple statement, but one that held a wealth of meaning. Alastair took care of all things Thorne. Or at least all people with the last name Thorne. Lately, he’d extended his watchful eye to the Carlyle clan.
“I’m only a Thorne because you insisted my mother put the name on my birth certificate. So let’s call a spade a spade, Dad. I’m your bastard.”
“You are my son,” Alastair repeated stubbornly, as if by being a relation—an unwanted one at that—solved everything.
“I don’t want your help,” Nash stated coldly. Of course, Alastair would ignore his wants, but the words needed to be said all the same.
“Duly noted.” His father snapped his fingers, and a folder appeared in his hands. With an unconcerned air, he tossed it on the desk between them. “This is everything I have on Salinger. Do with it what you will.” He rose with his usual grace. “Might I suggest you leave the lovely Ryanne out of your quest for the necklace? She’s not of our world and can easily become a casualty of your war with Victor.”
Nash stood so fast his chair slammed into the credenza behind him. “Ryanne is mine to do with as I please!”
Unfortunately, the woman in question chose that precise moment to enter the office.
“Excuse me?” she asked. Fury dripped from her tone, and her face was an icy mask.
“I…” What could he say? His words were damning. “It wasn’t meant that way, Ryanne. I swear.” Nash didn’t dare look at Alastair. He knew what he’d see—a knowing smirk.
“Let’s get one thing clear, Mr. Thorne. I am not now, nor will I ever be, yours to do with as you please. I work for you, which I can quickly remedy by taking a job elsewhere.”
Nash’s heart hiccuped, and his breathing halted in his chest. The idea of not seeing Ryanne every day almost drove him to his knees to beg her forgiveness. But he couldn’t let her know the power she held over him. If he did, then she’d spend the rest of their lives walking all over his feelings. “Do whatever you—” His remaining words came out garbled and incoherent.
Had he suffered a stroke?
Nash cast a frantic glance in Alastair’s direction, but his father wasn’t looking at him. Instead, he’d focussed all his charm on Ryanne. But the telltale sign that Alastair had stopped Nash’s stupid statement was the hand clenched behind his father’s back.
“Don’t mind him, my dear. Nash is a bit hot-tempered at times. Half of what he says, he doesn’t mean.”
Nash opened his mouth to deny Alastair’s claim, but those words came out as mangled as all the others. He glared his rage at the back of Alastair’s perfectly coiffed blond head.
A speculative gleam entered Ryanne’s dark eyes, and she angled her head slightly to study him as she strode farther into the room. Her full lips curled into a smug half-smile. “I think I adore your father, Nash. He’s been able to shut you up long enough for someone else to get the last word.” She patted his cheek in a condescending manner.
Nash glared down at her but kept his lips sealed. It was embarrassing enough that his father had stolen his speech. To continue to attempt to talk would humiliate him all the more.
“Liz wanted me to remind you that Rafe Xuereb has arrived for your meeting. She refuses to start without you. Hopefully, your affliction will pass long enough for you to discuss any relevant issues.”
Ryanne sashayed her perfect, round ass out the door, pausing only long enough to blow Alastair a kiss over her shoulder. The older man crossed his arms over his massive chest and grinned for all he was worth.
“That’s one heck of a woman, son. Don’t let her get away.”
* * *
Ryanne heard Alastair’s statement and Nash’s answering “Fuck off, old man!” She fought to hold back her laugh. Having only met Alastair a few times, she maintained a healthy respect for the dangerous, off-putting air about him, but he also reminded her enough of Nash to put her at ease.
Without a doubt, Nash shared his father’s arrogance. Like that stupid comment when she’d entered his office. She snorted her disbelief that something so idiotic could leave his mouth. The guy was brilliant, and yet he could be extremely clueless at times.
Ryanne was certain Alastair had used magic to halt Nash’s comeback. The gesture endeared the older man to her. He’d saved her job and her pride. Deep inside, she knew Nash intended to draw a line in the sand and say, “Do whatever you feel you need to.”
She’d have been forced to dig in her heels and quit. Because while she would take—and had taken—a lot of crap from Nash over the last couple of years, she wouldn’t stand to be disrespected. She knew her worth. It had taken a lot of years to build up her self-esteem. One man would not lay waste to it with his momentary stupidity.
She wasn’t at her desk long before Nash showed up. In his hands, he held an enormous bouquet of the palest pink roses she’d ever seen. The picture of contrition, he set the vase next to her computer.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you have a meeting or something to get to?” She wasn’t beyond being petty.
“I do, but not before I apologize for my behavior. And definitely not before you accept.” His intense gaze bored into her. “What you overheard, it wasn’t how it sounded. My father brings out the worst in me. I’m more reactive than I should be.”
“And what would you have done if I’d quit?”
“I’d have come after you and doubled your salary,” he said with a cheeky grin.
“Then I quit.”
Nash urged Ryanne to her feet. With one arm around her waist, he pulled her close and cupped her jaw. “You’ll see a pay raise in your next check.”
“And?”
“An extra week of vacation.”
“I don’t take vacation as it is,” she reminded him.
“True, but it’s there should you want it.”
He dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. “Do you forgive me, babe?”
“Yes,” she whispered on a rush of breath. She moaned softly as he took her earlobe between his teeth. “This is a bad idea, Nash.”
“What?”
“Any type of relationship that isn’t work related.”
He trailed light kisses along her jaw on his journey to her mouth. “I beg to differ. I think this is the best idea I’ve ever had where you’re concerned.”
“Personally, I think you’re buttering me up for whatever hidden agenda you have planned.”
Nash froze and drew back. Troubled green eyes stared down at her. “I’ll always be honest with you, Ryanne.”
A chill took her. Rarely did she see Nash this serious or worried. “What is it, Nash?”
“We’ll talk more later. Have dinner with me tonight.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. The one able to bring such pleasure with the simplest and lightest of kisses. “I feel like you’ve cast a spell over me,” she said softly. “Since the day you showed up in my apartment, all I can think about is this.” She placed her fingers over his lips and gasped when he sucked in the tips.
“Is that so terrible?”
“If it ends badly, I’ll be out on my ass, looking for another job.”
“Why would it end badly? You want me, and without question, I want you.”
“All things end, Nash. It’s the way of life.”
He frowned as he studied her face. “You’re cynical about love. I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“I’ve not had much of it in my life.”
“Take your time to decide
about dinner. This thing between us, it’s on your terms, Ryanne. I’ll abide by whatever you decide.”
“Will you?” Did she want him to? A large part of her yearned for him to take charge. To chase away her fears and exorcise her ghosts. To show her what could be instead of leaving her to wonder “what if.”
Nash flashed her a wry smile. “I can promise to try. Does that work? In the meantime, I’ll have Liz draw up a contract. It will contain your new raise. It will also have the clause that with any termination of employment—on either side—you’ll receive a severance equal to your existing salary until you find another job you love.” He paused and smoothed a wild strand of her hair. “But know I will never fire you. You’re much too valuable to me.”
As he walked away, Ryanne experienced an insane urge to chase after him. She wanted to tell him she’d go out to dinner with him tonight and every night for the rest of their lives. Her sudden neediness bothered her. She toyed with the idea of taking a real vacation to get her head on straight. Somehow, she doubted Nash would allow her to be gone that long. Their work schedule wouldn’t permit it.
When Nash reached the bank of elevators, he glanced back to where she stood in her office doorway. Across the distance, their eyes met and held. She imagined she could feel the pull of his power like a tractor beam. Whatever was inside of him called to her. It had from the moment they’d met. Now that Nash wanted to explore that connection, Ryanne had misgivings. But she wasn’t a coward. She faced up to her fears, and because she did, she gave Nash a single nod.
His wide, happy smile told her he understood she’d agreed to dinner—had probably agreed to much more. Because he rarely displayed emotion, many passing employees halted to stare in wonder. Their gazes ping-ponged between Ryanne and Nash, pausing overly long on their boss. He was simply that beautiful.
It was Ryanne’s turn to smile. Nash had no clue how attractive he was to the opposite sex. She hoped he never found out.
Chapter 4
“Are you about ready?”