Oui: A BWWM Romance (The French Connection Book 1)

by Brooklyn Knight

  My eyes narrowed. “What are we talking about here?” My voice cracked. “Are we talking about the internship or are we talking about us? Because I’m hardly willing to discuss either, but the second topic is definitely off limits.”

  The muscle in his jaw twitched. “There is no us,” he said resentfully. “And you know what? I’m okay with that. I wasn’t at first, but after you lied to me about Ryder Hanson; after you put that resignation letter on my desk; after you left me high and dry even after knowing how much I cared about you...” He grunted. “Trust me, sweetheart, if I’m not over you now, I will be before the night is out.”

  I flinched, attacked by his words and the reality of what I’d done became apparent. Regardless, there was no way I could back down from my lofty position and do something like apologize. We had hurt each other, but it was a closed case. There was no hope for us.

  “So why am I here?” I demanded folding my arms across my chest.

  “Because there’s something you need to see.” He walked over to a table and picked up an envelope and held it out. “Look at this.”

  I snatched the envelope from him and ripped it open. In an instant, my strength receded into weakness. My bravado diminished to distress. I gasped, shocked at the contents therein. Pictures – lots them – of Dylan and I making love glared at me. Our most intimate moments had been captured unbeknownst to me and I felt naked and violated. A red curtain of rage dropped over my eyes and my body started to tremble.

  My eyes shifted from the pictures to Dylan. “What the hell are these?” I demanded throwing them to the floor.

  Dylan walked over to the bar and poured himself a drink from a crystal decanter. “Ask Ryder Hanson,” he suggested leaning on the counter, taking a small sip from the glass.

  “What are you talking about? What does Ryder have to do with anything?”

  Dylan exhaled and walked to the middle of the room. “I have been made to understand that your boyfriend hired a private investigator to follow you in an attempt to find out what you were up to.”

  I looked at him refusing to believe a word that he had said. “Be for real,” I charged him. “You honestly expect me to believe that? After the lies you’ve told in just this one day, not to mention the whole time we were together...”

  “I know you’re not talking about someone being a liar, Miss Renaud.”

  I shut my mouth remembering that I was, in fact, the underdog when it came to that topic. “I don’t believe you,” I said firmly.

  “The guy he hired was Stefan Miller, my college buddy. He’s the one who prevented the situation from getting out of hand. If it wasn’t for Stefan, that conversation you had with Robbie Wyman would have looked very different.”

  “No,” I denied. “Ryder would never do something like that. Sure, he was angry, but he wouldn’t stoop so low.”

  Dylan slammed his drink down and strode over to where I stood. “Who do you propose took the pictures, Laila? I admit to thinking about it, especially in Paris, but I can assure you I had nothing to do with these.”

  We stared at each other, and then Dylan pulled out another envelope. “There’s more,” he said. He held the envelope out and I stared at it contemplating whether I wanted to know what was inside. Dylan tipped his head to the side and I snatched it from him.

  I ripped it open and pulled out more pictures, but these ones were different. These ones were of Ryder and Katelyn having sex. In my former cubicle.

  My eyes flickered; my mouth crinkled. I tried to swallow back unmitigated fury, but it wouldn’t go past the middle of my throat.

  “Did you think he would stoop that low?” Dylan whispered. “I sure didn’t.”

  My eyes jerked towards him and I let the pictures fall from my hands.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. My temple pulsated. Too much was happening. I needed to get away from him. “Dylan, I can’t do this. All of this – you, Ryder – it’s too much,” I said heading for the door.

  “Laila – ”

  “First Ryder steals my proposal and then this.” I was rambling.

  Dylan’s neck jerked. “Hanson did what? Laila, why didn’t you tell me about – ”

  “Because it didn’t matter,” I interrupted him. “It’s all too much. When I agreed to intern at your company I never would have imagined that...”

  Dylan reached out and grabbed my arm.

  I froze, and my mouth tightened. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes.

  Dylan’s hazel eyes, cloudy with emotion, searched my face. His grip on my arm slackened and his head dropped. He took a few deep breaths. His chin wrinkled.

  “Stop running, Laila,” he whispered. He lifted his eyes to meet mine and I gasped. The depth of his emotion threatened to drown me. Seeing him like this made me weak. “Stop running from me. What good will come of you walking out that door? What will it change?”

  I looked away from him.

  He touched my face, guiding my gaze back to his. “I...” he collected himself. “I have never been hurt by a woman,” he confessed, “but you...” he shook his head. “You hurt me very badly and you continue to do it every time you walk away.”

  My mouth trembled. “Dylan, you know that was never my intention.”

  “I was so... angry at you,” he admitted. “You left me.”

  “I had to leave,” I said. The tears were uncontrollable now. “It had to stop, Dylan. You couldn’t give me what I wanted.”

  “We both know that’s not true.”

  We stared at each other until I ripped my eyes away from him.

  I dropped onto the loveseat. My arms were wrapped around my body as I rocked myself, trying to make it all go away.

  Dylan kneeled before me. He lifted his hand to my face and wiped the tears with his thumb. “I’m going to deal with Hanson,” he asserted. “As for us, we need to settle this, right here and right now. We need to clear the air and be honest with one another.” He tilted his head to the side, waiting for my cooperation.

  I rolled tears out of my eyes and huffed. “Fine,” I agreed.

  “Fine,” he said. He exhaled. “Do you love Ryder Hanson?”

  “No!” My hair bounced as I shook my head.

  Dylan peered at me.

  My face softened. “Dylan, no...”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and continued. “Do you wish to continue interning at Hamilton Associates?”

  I opened my mouth then closed it. Pride was rising to the surface, but Dylan was right. It would get me nowhere. Suddenly, Dr. Wyman’s words, attesting to the value of Dylan’s support reverberated in the walls of my mind. I relented. “Yes,” I said.

  He nodded. “Okay,” he said. He shrugged. “Do you want the corner office?”

  I burst into laughter, wiping tears from my eyes and Dylan smiled. “No, I do not want the corner office. I want to make it – ”

  “On your own, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence. He stared at me, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Third question,” he announced. “And I’m gonna be honest. This one is different than the others.”

  “Go on,” I said, acknowledging a pleasant shiver which passed through my entire body.

  Dylan searched my face. “Do you...” He trailed off. His transformation from assertive and secure to boyish and uncertain softened me.

  I waited, afraid to interrupt.

  “Do you want to try and make us work? But for real this time?”

  I rubbed my throat. “Dylan, that’s such a difficult question,” I said feeling the weight of what he had asked.

  “It’s not as difficult as you may think,” he asserted. “Sweetheart, listen.” He gathered my hands in his, rubbing his thumb over the surface. “There has never been another woman who has had the ability to make me feel the way you do. When I’m with you I feel alive, I feel inspired. You make my heart pulsate with an intensity I have never known. The details of how we would make it work are trivial. I make million dollar deals for a living, trust and believe
that I can handle this.” He leaned his face closer to mine.

  I swallowed.

  “It’s not difficult at all,” he said. “I told you before, all you have to do is say oui to we.” Dylan eased forward and touched his lips against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and my hand touched his nape.

  He groaned and pulled away from me. “I don’t want to go further until I have your answer,” he whispered. He shrugged a small shrug. “Can we try, ma belle fille?”

  An eternity of silence passed before I could find the courage to answer his question. Fear shackled me, its wiry tentacles wrapping around my throat like a deadly vine, yet a strong desire to be with Dylan, an urge to trust and depend on him overtook me. For so long I had been unable to trust; for so long I’d had to make it on my own, yet as I looked into Dylan’s eyes, the intensity of his emotion wiped away all apprehension.

  I wanted to be his woman. I wanted to be his one and only.

  He was right; the details were trivial. All that mattered was that he loved me as much as I loved him.

  I nodded.

  He searched my face, his brows coming together, his eyes shimmering with emotion.

  “Oui,” I said, smiling.

  Dylan’s head dropped into my lap and I ran my fingers through his soft hair. I rested my head on top of his and tears leaked onto my cheeks.

  Dylan looked up and his gaze arrested me. His cloudy, hazel eyes were shadowed with passion. “Let me make love to you,” he whispered with a smile.

  My body shuddered with expectation. “Like last time?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “No,” he answered. “A different way.” Dylan lifted himself from the floor and grabbed a remote from the counter. I looked up as the thin veil I’d seen before encompassed the ceiling and the array of glittering constellations appeared above. He rested the remote down, never once taking his eyes off me, and scooped me into his arms. Neither of us said a word as he carried me up the floating stairs and into his splendid bedroom, where a majestic poster bed waited to be occupied. White, transparent drapery cascaded down each of the four corners and was draped over its top. The faux stars cast dazzling lights on their surfaces, and dozens of plush pillows, white with gold trim, covered the bed.

  Dylan eased me onto it and captured me in a kiss that made me drunk with lust. There was no rushing. There was no aggression. He unzipped my pants and eased them down the length of my legs and he took his time unbuttoning my shirt. Then he stood back and I watched as he undressed. His chiseled body glowed under the lights and my center moistened at the sight. When he was completely naked, he crawled back over to me, and I ran my fingers through his hair, trying to be patient, waiting for the inevitable descent into ecstasy. My hand dropped to his neck and I forced him closer to me.

  He kissed me from head to toe. My back arched as his hot mouth branded my body and marked its territory. He climbed over me, his weapon of sexual destruction poised and ready for the plunge. The walls of my secret garden contracted in anticipation of the delightful invasion.

  Then he paused.

  I looked into his face, curious.

  “Will you marry me, Laila?”

  My eyes widened. “What?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Dylan... Are you serious?”

  “You know that I am,” he responded.

  My neck jutted forward. “Dylan, we’ve known each other for three months.”

  “How much time is required to know when you’ve met the one?” he asked. “You are my one, ma belle fille. I don’t need years to know that.”

  The Milky Way reflected in his hazel eyes.

  Dylan leaned his body over to an ivory nightstand and pulled the top drawer open. When he rolled back over, a black, velvet box was in his hand.

  I covered my mouth in shock.

  He flipped the lid open and revealed a glistening ruby set in platinum. It sparkled in my eyes. The stars were no match. Even the color of his eyes could hold no candle.

  My lip quivered as my eyes shifted from the ring to him. “That’s not the Durand knock-off,” I whispered.

  He laughed and shook his head. “No, it’s not,” he confirmed. “You’re worth the original. Will you marry me, Laila?”

  I looked at him like he was a ghost. “You’re crazy,” I mumbled through tears.

  “For you, I am.”

  Silence.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I couldn’t be more.”

  I touched the box, running my finger over the smooth velvet and then I touched the ring, half expecting to be burnt. But I already had been. I had been burnt months ago, when I opened the door to my apartment and let him in.

  My head felt like a bowling ball on a drum stick as I nodded in agreement.

  Dylan’s mouth and eyes wrinkled as he removed the precious ring from the box and slipped it on my left hand, and then he kissed me fervently and drove himself into me.

  I cried out, ready to explode as we sanctioned the renewal of our love and the promise of a new beginning.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Ryder

  ‘Bygones’

  I glossed over my presentation before throwing my suit jacket over my shoulders and grabbing my attaché off the desk. It was going to be a busy day and I had a lot to get through before I could flick the light switch and transpose into party mode, including a presentation for a group of local businessmen. It was one of the last things on my to-do list and I was looking forward to hitting the clubs to celebrate the end of my internship, my impending graduation, and the prospect of employment at Hamilton Associates.

  Still, a huge piece was missing...

  I was an idiot to still be consumed with thoughts of Laila, even after knowing what she’d done. Just thinking about Laila and the CEO being together incensed me. Visions of them being intimate assaulted me. I knew what her skin felt like. I knew the feeling of being consumed by her passion. The strong possibility that she had shared herself with Dylan Hamilton was almost more than I could bear. Yet, there I was, still in love with her, despite the things that had happened and despite the mistakes I had made.

  I hadn’t seen or heard from her for weeks. In fact, the last thing I’d heard was that she had quit the internship and I knew it hadn’t been an amicable parting, despite what Hamilton wanted me to believe. I was certain that whatever had been going on between her and Mr. Hamilton had come to a screeching halt. I’d seen him around the office: dark circles under his eyes, which meant he wasn’t sleeping, and he was unusually edgy and impatient. They were clear signs that their secret relationship was over. And perhaps that meant it would be the perfect time to make my final move.

  I hesitated for a second and then picked up the phone and dialed Laila’s cell phone number. As it rang, my heartrate increased. I had rehearsed what I would say when I finally called her a thousand times. I was going to tell her how much I missed and loved her and that nothing else mattered. All I wanted was to be with her.

  Her phone rang continuously before her voicemail came on and disappointment washed over me. I sighed and hung my head before clicking the phone off and dropping it on the desk. I needed to get to the boardroom before Hamilton started looking for me.

  I started for the door, but the ringing phone on my desk caused me to pause. I glanced at the caller ID and inhaled. It was Hamilton’s secretary.

  “Hanson,” I answered promptly.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” she said. “Mr. Hamilton would like to see you in his office.”

  I grimaced and looked at my watch. “Sure,” I agreed, “but I thought he wanted to meet in the meeting room. The presentation starts in thirty minutes.”

  “I’m just the messenger,” she informed me with a chuckle. “I do as I’m told, and I suggest you do the same.”

  My jaw cinched. “Of course. I’ll be right up.”

  I hung up the phone and caught the elevator to the 34th floor. When I arrived, Mr. Hamilton’s secretary smiled a
t me and gestured towards the door. I knocked and waited, but he didn’t answer. I looked back at the woman.

  She shrugged. “Go ahead in,” she advised. “I know he’s in there waiting.”

  I nodded and ran my hand over my tie before opening the door. When I looked in, I didn’t see anyone right away, but suddenly, a petite figure standing in the corner of the room looking out of the window caught my eye. My mouth slackened at the sight of Laila and she turned to look at me, straight-faced and expressionless.

  I looked back at the secretary who was busy typing on the computer, seemingly unaware of the stranger in the CEO’s office, and then I turned back to look at Laila.

  “Come in,” she instructed. “And please, close the door behind you.”

  My eyes narrowed, and I released the door. It shut with a soft thud. “Laila? What the hell are you doing here?” My eyes hardened. “Or do I already know?”

  She released a dry laugh. “I’m an intern here, Ryder. As are you.”

  “You were an intern here,” I replied, “until you quit to take on another venture.” I paused. “At least that’s what the CEO said...”

  “Of course he said that,” she responded, “he valued my performance while I was working for him and despite some unfortunate events, he wanted to make sure my academic and professional futures were secure. We had a conversation and I decided to swallow my pride and come back.” She walked around to the front of the formidable desk, her arms folded across her chest. “Somehow, though, I think you mean what am I doing here, as in, in the CEO’s office.”

  “I’m wondering if I already know the answer,” I jabbed.

  “You might,” she agreed. “But there’s something we need to discuss. It’s long overdue, Ryder. We’ve tried to talk before and we’ve never gotten anywhere.”

  I grunted. “So Dylan Hamilton’s office is the appropriate place to have a personal discussion? Is that what you want me to believe? Besides, the last time we tried to talk we were interrupted a certain someone who was complicating things for you.” I paused. “You think I don’t know what was going on between the two of you,” I whispered. “Don’t try and deny it. Admit it, Laila: you were screwing Dylan Hamilton, trying to work your way up his personal corporate ladder and when the shit hit the fan, he left you high and dry.” I scoffed. “You gave him a chance you refused to give me, and he ended up hurting you more than I ever did or even could. You should have known better. I expected a lot more from you.”