Beholden (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 2)

by Madison Michael

  “We could offer something, couldn’t we?” Regan turned to her brother. “There must be a tempting hotel we own where we could offer a romantic weekend. Maybe something out of town, where we could throw in airfare from Chicago? Ethan, make a note to get something over to Sloane this week.”

  “Actually, can you send it over to Allyson Riley? She has taken over as chairperson.”

  “Oh no,” Regan said. “I am so sorry Sloane.” There it was again, that intolerable look of pity. Regan was about to ask about the change, or say more in that pitying voice when Sloane interrupted.

  “Oh look at the time. You two have been wonderful but I have to run. Thank you so much for lunch.” Sloane went to make her escape, but she was thwarted when Ethan suggested that they too were ready to leave the restaurant and offered to get her coat. Now she would have to walk out with them.

  Taking a cleansing breath or two, throwing her coat over her arm, Sloane suppressed her annoyance and went to street level with the pair. Exiting the Trump building onto Wabash Street, she was about to make a quick exit when she heard someone calling Regan’s name and someone else calling hers.

  Walking toward them, looking like a pair of Greek gods, were Tyler Winthrop and Randall Parker III - two tall, confident, sun-kissed men in custom suits and highly polished, Italian shoes. The post-lunch business people and the tourists crowding the sidewalks parted around the men like the Red Sea, as if aware that they were special, designated for greatness. They exuded the confidence that comes from knowing that doors would open for them, that they would rise like cream in their competitive worlds. Even strangers responded to it.

  Sloane was mesmerized watching Randall stride closer. The sun rested on his thick, brown hair, bringing lights of blonde and red out. It was tamed today, swept away from his high forehead. His eyes were squinting under his heavy brows, laugh lines radiated from the corners and dimples creased his cheeks as his smile widened upon seeing her. The man was devastating. Even twenty yards away, he was making her heart race and her palms sweat.

  When did he start having this effect on me?

  Suppressing an audible sigh, Sloane was surprised to hear one escape from Regan instead. Was there something between Randall and Regan that Sloane was not aware of? Had they come together over the months while she was an outcast from the in-crowd? Sloane turned to see a becoming blush move into Regan’s cheeks and was alarmed to realize she felt jealous.

  Really, what is wrong with me? I was engaged to this man’s close friend only months ago and now suddenly I have the hots for Randall? This has to stop now.

  When Sloane was engaged to Wyatt Lyons Howe IV, she had been constantly surrounded and annoyed by his three childhood friends. Wyatt, Tyler, Randall and Alex had all grown up together and the golden boys had remained inseparable.

  Each man was unique. Each was special in his own way. Sure, all were successful and been afforded every advantage. But, where Wyatt was sandy haired, Randall was dark. Where Randall was solid, Tyler was whipcord lean. Alex was always serious, Randall never was. Tyler was distrusting about business, Wyatt distrusting about life. Wyatt was quiet while Randall would have a few drinks and be a total buffoon.

  The four were thick as thieves though, no matter what. Like the four Baldwin Brothers - good looking, intriguing and sexy- they were like family in everything from love to business to sports. They had shared each other’s best achievements and darkest secrets. They helped each other survive fraternity hazing and celebrate “first times.” They were like brothers, growing up in each other’s families, hanging out at each other’s homes.

  Before Wyatt married Keeli, no woman had ever come first with any of the four. Even when Wyatt and Sloane had been engaged, Sloane knew that if asked, he would choose them over her every time. Watching these two now, Sloane was reminded that the four friends were possibly the four most eligible bachelors in town until Wyatt had married a small-town girl and thrown Sloane aside.

  The dissolution of her engagement and her father’s sentencing had culminated in Sloan’s ousting from membership in the one percenters she had called friends her whole life. She had not seen much of the boys since then, or anyone else for that matter. Since the first allegations of wrongdoing by the Feds, Sloane had received fewer and fewer, and eventually no lunch invitations. She was dateless and unwelcome at parties. After a while, the party invitations had stopped coming and she had stopped seeking any except those that supported worthy causes. Even those had to be accepted selectively. She was too embarrassed to attend most events, and even worse, she could no longer afford the high price of tickets and donations. Until recently, she had also assiduously avoided anyone and anything that had to do with Wyatt, with the exception of staying in touch with his sisters Regan and Missy by phone.

  Until today.

  Here she was on the sidewalk with Wyatt’s siblings, watching two of his three best friends and two of Chicago’s undeniably sexiest men walking straight toward her. It should have felt awkward, but it didn’t. Perhaps enough time had passed, or perhaps although her downfall had given this group a chance to laud things over her, none of them had. Last month at the tasting, Randall had actually been rather sweet to her – sort of.

  I am not sure what has changed all of the sudden, but I think things are definitely looking up.

  “Well, look at this. Who would have thought we would run into you here,” Tyler was saying as he approached his hand outstretched toward Ethan. After sharing a firm handshake, Tyler planted a soft kiss on Regan’s lips and turned to Sloane. There was clearly some suspicion in his look but he nodded her way in greeting as Randall spoke.

  “So, we meet again,” he addressed Sloane, planting a loud kiss on her cheek that surprised his friends.

  “We just had a business lunch at Sixteen,” Ethan explained, blissfully unaware of the tensions swirling around him. Tyler was looking at Regan as if he could eat her, and Sloane felt her jealously vanish into thin air.

  I wonder when they fell in love. I wonder if they even know that is what they are feeling. What a merger that will make! It will be interesting to see if Wyatt supports the match though. He knows Tyler’s nasty little secrets after all. He may think Regan is too good for Tyler, and maybe she is.

  “Sloane, you’re looking well,” Tyler finally conceded after seeing how chummy she was with Regan. “How’s business?” Sloane couldn’t tell if the question was genuine or malicious, so she decided to give Tyler the benefit of the doubt.

  “It’s been rocky of course, but Regan and Ethan have just agreed to help me locate some smaller offices, which will help. And we still have a few loyal customers with iron-clad contracts.”

  “It will turn around,” Tyler offered, “but if you need any legal help, you know you can always call.”

  “Thanks, Ty, I appreciate that.” Sloane knew she had just turned a big corner. An offer of help from Tyler Winthrop meant she was moving back into the inner-circle. Suddenly things felt better. Sloane believed she now had support where none had existed for months and the belief allowed her to be more forthright than usual.

  “But it will take a lot more than a good lawyer at this point. Our reputation is in the ditch; we are bleeding clients and cash. I will try downsizing but I suspect I will have to do an orderly shutdown of the business to salvage enough for my mother to live on. Then I will just get a job and start over.”

  “Sloane, I really had no idea things were that bad,” Tyler responded. They all recognized that the remark was polite if disingenuous.

  “You know, I could help.” All eyes shifted to Randall’s tall imposing figure at his statement. “I am the one person here who can really make a difference for you right now. I might still be able to get you investors, financing and working capital. If you want it.”

  The shock on everyone’s faces told the whole story. No one believed that Huyler Industries was worth investing in any longer. This group especially knew that Randall’s investment business was ultra-con
servative and cautious. A business like HI would be low on their list for consideration.

  Sloane had a moment of elation before her normal cynicism came to the fore along with the sharp tongue for which she was known.

  “Not funny Randall. There is not a chance in hell that Parker, Parker, Harrison and Paine would invest in my dying business and it is unkind of you to tease me that way. I thought you were better than that.” If words could cut, Sloane’s would have left Randall in shreds. The venom in her voice was almost tangible.

  Placing his arm through Sloane’s proprietarily, Randall ignored her anger and replied, “I am dead serious, Sloane. Let’s go grab a drink and discuss it.” He moved as if to walk away with her, regardless of her desires.

  “It’s 2:30 in the afternoon Randall. I have to get back to work, and I suspect you do, too.” She was surreptitiously pulling against his arm but Randall held fast.

  “This is work, Sloane. And I would think you would be very interested in what I have to say.” He raised a quizzical brow and gave her an expectant look, his square jaw set and uncompromising.

  “I think you should hear him out,” Regan chimed in. “If PPHP can get you funding, you certainly have the smarts to turn things around.”

  Ethan seconded the words of his sister while Tyler gave Randall a strange, confused look. Some secret message moved between the two. After a hesitation, Tyler added his agreement.

  “What have you got to lose, Sloane? I think you should see what Randall can structure for you.”

  A rare bewildered look on Sloane’s face gave way to resignation.

  “Okay, one drink,” she conceded to Randall. “I absolutely have to be back in the office in an hour or two.”

  “No you don’t and we both know it,” Randall’s low timbre whispered in Sloane’s ear so that only she could hear. She was unable to control her small shiver of response at his warm breath along her neck, and Randall took advantage of the movement by grabbing her coat and wrapping it around her shoulders before placing his arm tight around her waist and pulling her against him.

  “That is quite a breeze.” His nonchalant observation easily masked her response. He was glued to her from shoulder to thigh, and she was very aware of every inch of his solid frame pinned against her.

  Oh God, what did I just agree to? This man is infuriating. How does he keep manipulating the situation like this?

  Regan gave Sloane a farewell hug and a few encouraging words before pairing up with Tyler to walk South. Ethan handed her his card before hailing a taxi in the other direction, leaving Sloane standing alone with Randall on the sidewalk.

  “You hate that, don’t you?” he asked her cryptically.

  “Hate what?” She resisted batting her eyelashes as she looked up into his handsome face.

  “Don’t act coy with me, Sloane Huyler, I am totally on to you. You hate when I gain the upper hand with you. You hate giving up even a little control.”

  “What I hate is that you drink like a fish, and in the middle of the afternoon.”

  “Why should you give a damn how much I drink or when?” Randall was obviously annoyed by Sloane’s criticism.

  “I give a damn because after a few drinks you turn into a lecherous oaf. Sober you are charming and good company; drunk you are a moron. I don’t like being around you when you start behaving like a clod.”

  “Honey,” Randall put his face very close to Sloane’s almost spitting the words at her in anger, ”you and I both know that right now you are lucky to be around anybody. So, don’t put on your high-and-mighty-airs with me. That bird won’t fly.”

  His words stung and Sloane arched away from him as if he had slapped her. Then she took one deep breath and regained the ice-queen cool for which she was famous.

  “Mr. Parker,” she said in a low, calm voice, ”I would rather be alone than be with you. I would rather have my business fail than take money from you. I would rather that you leave my side and my sight at this very moment”

  Then, as if they were not exchanging biting, caustic words, she finished politely, “Thank you for your generous offer to go for a drink, but I must decline.”

  Sloane turned on her heel, throwing her coat over her arm when the breeze caught it. Head high, shoulders back, she bustled away, oblivious of the direction she was taking, anxious to put as much distance as possible between herself and Randall.

  How dare he? Could he have insulted me further? And who the hell is he to call me ‘honey’? I may be down but I am not out. I am not taking charity from that bastard.

  He can rot in hell for all I care.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  How dare she? Who is Sloane Huyler to walk away after hurling insults at me? Especially when I was trying to help her.

  She can rot in hell for all I care.

  Randall stood like a statue, all 6”3” of him, dumbfounded. Pedestrians moved around him, jostling him, mumbling apologies. He just stood there, watching Sloane move further away, her slim figure swaying slightly as she walked, her coral dress clinging provocatively to her hips and ass, bright and crisp in sea of dark business suits and blue jeans.

  He could not recall anyone ever speaking to him so rudely. Not even his parents when he misbehaved as a child. In 35 years, he could not remember anyone treating him with anything but deference.

  Except this woman.

  No one had ever accused him of being a drunk. Sure, when he was out with the guys they might suggest he not order another drink. In addition, perhaps - he wasn’t admitting this totally - but perhaps there were a few occasions when he woke up after a night out with a raging hangover, a strange woman and a lapsed memory.

  But it’s nothing I can’t control.

  Sloane had always been a spiteful cat, even when things were going well. When she and her father were on top of the world running Huyler Industries, she had lauded it over everyone. Even when she was happily engaged to Wyatt, she was still mean. He could only imagine how sharp her claws must be now that she had nothing left to lose and no one to push around.

  Still, he had been incredibly generous today. He was offering to help her out of an ugly jam. No one else was stepping forward and for good reason. While Sloane was a marketing genius, great at PR and advertising, it was her father who had been providing the industry expertise and serving at the helm of a company with over 1,000 employees. No one believed Sloane could take the reins and succeed against these odds, not now that the corporate reputation was in tatters.

  So why did Randall believe she could do it? He believed in her enough to offer financial backing, and he knew even as he had said the words out loud, that it would be an extremely tough sell to his partners. PPHP was one of the most conservative investment firms in the city of Chicago, protecting a 50-year legacy and a lot of extremely wealthy clients.

  So he had to ask himself now, finally starting to walk back across the river and in the direction of LaSalle Street and his office, what was it about this woman that made him trust in her when no one else would? Did he believe she could make the business succeed or did he just want to believe because he hoped to see her back on her feet? Why did he tolerate her caustic tongue and haughty ways?

  Why did he want her until he ached with it?

  It was not just her perfect face. He had been with beautiful women. Her exotic features, model-thin body and pale flawless skin were a magnificent combination. Her dark hair fell thick and straight around her head, catching the light. The dark hair and pale skin made her large ice-blue eyes even more arresting. Add her above average height and she was a crowd-stopper.

  And the bitch knows it.

  Sloane could bat her eyelashes and flirt with the best of them, often doing it right before she stabbed you in the back. She loved getting her way, loved expensive gifts and loads of attention. She loved being at the center of things, wielding her money, influence and power. Randall knew that right now, she was missing all of this. And she was missing her father, his business acumen and their
easy camaraderie. While she put on a brave face and went on with her life, he could see she was vulnerable and hurting.

  Therefore, he had offered to help. It was an act of kindness – an act of charity. But he couldn’t do it without reminding her that she was down on her luck, that she was desperate and that she needed him. He wanted her to understand she needed him.

  Yep, he had lost his head.

  He loved holding her body tight against his. She was strong and fragile at the same time. She made him feel powerful, protective, and horny. Her waist had felt tiny under his fingertips and he remembered the silk of her skin, the strong muscles in her thigh when they had done the tasting together the previous month. If her skirt had been two inches shorter, he would not have been responsible for his actions. He could have inched his hand just a bit higher and touched her until she was moaning under his skillful fingers. He would have liked to watch her keep her cool with the servers while he was stroking her to orgasm under the tablecloth.

  She’s right. I am an oaf. Why would I kick her when she is already down? Especially when I really am trying to help her. And when I am so drawn to her? Shit. Drawn to her, my ass. I am hot as hell for the woman.

  I will not apologize, not after what she said to me. So, what can I do? What options do I have? Come on, Randall. You can fix this. That’s it! I will get my assistant to schedule a meeting, all business, and take it from there. She might say no to me, but no one says no to Amy.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Mom, I’m home,” Sloane called as she entered through the backdoor of her childhood home. She had driven her Mercedes E400 to Glencoe from her condo in the city. It was a beautiful, sunny Saturday, perfect for a 45-minute drive in the convertible and she knew the visit would delight her lonely mother.

  Since the guilty plea three months ago, Sloane was not the only one feeling the chilly rejection of friends and colleagues. The reception her mother, Marianne, had received from the garden club was so awful that her mother had not been back since. Her volunteer work had all but disappeared, as had her previously constant invitations for lunch or tennis.