The Thorntons Box Set

by Nic Saint

  But then she’d decided even that was too much, so screw her, he thought and passed by his secretary, Mrs. Grey, a bespectacled middle-aged woman whom everyone called Sonia. “Going down for a hot dog, Sonia, honey. You want something?”

  She rubbed her tummy, which was hidden beneath a thick layer of flab and gave him a disapproving eye. “Don’t tempt me, Will. You know how hard I’m trying to cut back on starchy foods.”

  He grinned at his trusty assistant. “Sure thing. Good luck with that.”

  “Foul man,” she grumbled with a flicker of mirth in her eye, then readjusted her half-moon glasses and continued pecking at the computer keyboard.

  Whistling a merry tune, he stepped into the elevator, feeling relieved his time at the Thornton department store was at an end. He’d spent all of three days there, but it felt like a lot more. Usually he sent one of his underlings to the stores that consulted with W&T, but Scott, who was now running Thornton’s, had insisted he handle this one himself. Said he wanted his personal input. And since what the customer asks, the customer gets, he’d done just that.

  Now all he needed to do was type up his report and schedule a meeting with his brother to discuss possible improvements to store management, customer service and, most importantly, security. Piece of cake, he knew, for he’d never analyzed a store as magnificently run as Thornton’s. He knew his brother had only taken over the reins a couple of weeks ago, but already he had the impression great strides forward had been made.

  He stepped from the elevator and past the guard in the lobby, who stood gazing before him with a bemused frown on his wrinkled face. “Hey, Charlie. Penny for your thoughts?”

  Charlie looked up, surprised, then smiled. “Only a penny? Think I’ll keep them to myself then, Will.”

  “Yeah, well, you know me, buddy. Once a cheap bastard, always a cheap bastard.”

  “If you hadn’t said it, I would have,” grunted Charlie. He then pointed to a young woman who stood across the street, next to the hot dog vendor. “I was just thinking how lucky that girl is that I’m not her father. I mean, the way young people dress these days.” He shook his grizzled head and tsk-tsked freely. “It’s a crying shame, Mister Thornton, sir. I mean just look at her.”

  And that’s what Will did, and he let out a startled yelp when he recognized in the punk chick lounging about the girl who’d nearly shot him the day before.

  “You know that girl, sir?” inquired Charlie, visibly surprised to see the young billionaire mixing with the likes of a person of that ilk.

  “Intimately,” grumbled Will, his mood plummeting along with his brow. With vigorous steps, he set foot for the door and the young woman who clearly needed to be taught a serious lesson in punctuality and respect.

  Two minutes later, he was back, a meek-looking Kelley in tow, and ignoring the look of censure Charlie cast at both him and his protégée.

  “Charlie, meet Kelley Casey. She’ll be working for me from now on.”

  Charlie’s eyebrows shot up into his gray fringe, and he came very near to taking off his cap and scratching his scalp. “Really, sir?” The eye darting from the offensively attired punk rock chick to the expensively tailored Will and back revealed a wealth of meaning. Are you quite certain this is the right thing to do, Will? that eye seemed to say.

  Answering both the man and the eye, Will grumbled, “Miss Casey is our new security specialist, isn’t that right, Kelley?”

  Kelley blinked like a deer in the headlights and muttered, “I guess so,” before disappearing into the elevator with Will, leaving a bewildered Charlie staring after the unusual pair.

  As they stood side by side, he eyed her curiously. Her hair looked as if she’d cut it herself with a razor blade, falling in wild uneven strands across her brow, and she’d used so much eyeliner he could barely make out her eyes. The rest of her pale face was devoid of any trace of make-up however, and as he’d noticed the day before, she was extremely pretty, with refined features, a small nose complete with piercing and cherry lips that were now pursed in dismay.

  Her clothes indicated she was into the whole punk rock thing, jeans torn and tattered, a black T-shirt displaying a bloodied skull and a leather jacket that was two sizes too large casually slung around her shoulders. Her ratty bag was liberally festooned with badges admonishing the innocent onlooker to ‘make peace not war’, ‘save the pigs’ and ‘kill the rich’.

  All in all, a very interesting combination, he observed, but then he’d already made that assessment yesterday, when staring down the barrel of her gun. She might be hampered by her lack of experience and proficiency, but he admired her courage and unflinching resolve in the face of danger. Or authority.

  “I would prefer if you’d show up on time, Kelley,” he began. “That is if you elect to keep working for me, of course. If not, you’re free to walk out any time.”

  “Yeah, and pay three point five mil for your stupid jewels. I get it.” She let out a disgusted snort. “As if.”

  Inwardly, he smiled. She really was a piece of work, and in spite of himself, he found himself liking her more and more. “You should have thought of that before you started shooting up the place. Have you never handled a gun?”

  She scowled at him, folding her arms across her chest. “None of your business, asshole.”

  His eyebrows shot up at this endearment. She seemed resolved to be let go on her first day. Well, he wouldn’t let her have the satisfaction. “Mister Asshole to you, Miss Casey.”

  “Don’t expect me to call you sir,” she growled. “I know what your deal is, Thornton. You just want some flunky to act as your personal slave. Well, I’ll tell you right now that won’t be me. I ain’t working for no rich pig with no respect for the little people.”

  He experienced a sudden twinge of anger at the unfairness of her statement, and in a reflex action his arm shot out and pressed her up against the wall. “You’re going to do exactly what I tell you to,” he said ever so softly, his voice barely concealing his fury, “or else I’m handing your ass back to my brother’s lawyers, who will eat you alive, understood?”

  She jutted out her chin in defiance, and he suddenly felt an irresistible urge take possession of him, and as she opened her mouth for a furious retort, he claimed it in a heated kiss that came as much of a surprise to him as it did to her.

  A soft whimper erupted from the back of her throat at this, and he knew he’d gone too far. Still, he couldn’t stop, this woman driving him so mad he couldn’t let her get away with this without making her pay one way or another.

  Then she pushed him back with all her might, and they stood glaring at each other, both panting, electricity crackling between them and shooting off the walls.

  Then the elevator pinged, and the doors slid open.

  For a moment, he thought she’d throw him out of the car and ride it down again and head straight to the police station, claiming sexual harassment.

  Instead, she blinked and seemed to gather her thoughts, and when he strode out, she followed him, her lips still red from the sudden abuse, and her eyes watery from the tears of anger that had shot into them.

  He ignored Sonia’s curious looks and stalked off to his office, waited for her to file in, and slammed the door behind her.

  Chapter 6

  He moment she stepped into his office, she knew she’d made a big mistake. The day before, William Thornton had struck her as a bit of an asshole. Now he struck her as dangerous to a degree. The way he’d kissed her just now had shaken her to the core. It wasn’t merely the intensity and the heat of the kiss, though both had been evident, but the way she’d responded to it, by dropping her arms and welcoming the gesture. By almost throwing herself at his mercy and getting lost in the heat of the moment.

  She’d never reacted to any man quite like this before. Most guys she knew were like her: laid-back dudes she’d meet at anti-capitalism sit-downs and demonstrations, or on rallies against the super-rich. Guys who would decry the cult o
f greed and avarice while puffing a spliff. She’d slept with a few of them, but more than some harmless frisking had never ensued, the guys more interested in World of Warcraft than sex.

  And now this guy, spawn of the devil, evil incarnate, epitome of all she’d ever railed against—the idle rich—and he swept her off her feet with one kiss.

  It wasn’t possible—it was unacceptable—and yet she couldn’t resist following him meekly into his office, wondering what he had in store for her next. She was sickened by her own reaction, disappointed with the way her body had betrayed her, and vowed to take a firm stand next time he tried anything funny.

  At the same time, she hoped he would.

  He walked up to a cabinet in the corner of his spacious office, opened it and took out a box of Kleenex and set it on his desk in front of her.

  “Wipe that crud from your face. You look like something from a horror movie.”

  She swiped at her eyes, remembering now she’d shed some tears of anger, and took the napkin indicated and removed her make-up with angry, jerky stabs.

  He looked up in annoyance when she lowered her hands, and stepped over to her side of the desk, took out a napkin, and applied it to her face before she had the chance to protest.

  “You shouldn’t hide yourself behind a wall of junk,” he grumbled, and she was surprised at the softness with which he cleaned up her face, cupping her chin in his hand while he wiped the ‘soot’ from her eyes with the other.

  Their proximity affected her knees, for they wobbled, and before she went down, she lowered herself onto the chair, fearful she might collapse.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she found herself asking, for lack of anything better to say. “Why are you… helping me?”

  He grinned and took a seat on the desk in front of her. “Helping you? I thought you were going to use the term ‘abusing you’.”

  “Yeah, well, whatever,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. She frowned, and dropped her bag to the floor beside her and sat back. “You don’t even know me. Why did you hire me?”

  “You mean aside from the fact that I want to make you my personal slave by making you work for free and take every cent you make and put it into my family’s pocket?” He grinned at her frown. “I talked to your Uncle Jonas. He shared some of your concerns with me.”

  “I have to be honest with you, Mr. Thornton—“

  “Will, please.”

  “—I don’t know the first thing about working security.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “I needed a job, and Jonas thought he could train me—said it wasn’t that hard. Just keep an eye out for shoplifters and that’s it.”

  “Usually that’s all the job entails. Yesterday was… unusual, to say the least.”

  She grimaced. “Yeah, it was.” She sighed. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened. It just looked as if you were the bad guy, so…”

  He nodded. “You did the right thing, Kelley. And if I’d been in your shoes, I probably would have done the same.” He gave her a comical grin. “Except maybe shoot up the place.”

  She reached her hands to her face. “Oh, God. That was terrible! I’d never actually fired a gun before.”

  “Lesson number one in handling a gun? Always leave the safety on.”

  “I know, right? It’s just that I saw all the blood, and then you being—“ She waved a hand in his general direction. “—being so big and all, and I thought—“

  He gave her a wry smile. “Runs in the family, I’m afraid. We Thorntons are all pretty big.”

  He was big, she thought. Big and more than a little intimidating, though she’d never let him know he had that effect on her. She screwed up her face, feeling better now that they were chatting. He seemed nicer than she’d thought. “Do you really think they’ll make me pay for the jewelry? I mean, three point five million dollars? I don’t have that kind of money. Probably never will.”

  “Don’t worry about that. As long as you’re working for me, that’s not your concern.”

  “As long as I work for you?” she said hesitantly. “Meaning?”

  He grinned. “Meaning that when I fire your ass, you’re on the hook for the full sum. I made a deal with Scott—that’s my brother Scott, he runs the department stores now—that I would take you under my wing.”

  She shook her head, feeling miserable all over again. “Why? Why would you do such a thing? I don’t know the first thing about security.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Oh? I thought you worked your fist job at age thirteen. Quite the prodigy.”

  She shrugged. “I made that up. Uncle Jonas needed a résumé to put in my file, so I typed that up two days ago.”

  He studied her for a moment, and she grew weary under his scrutiny. He had the most remarkable eyes, and when he looked at her like this, she had the impression he could see straight into her soul. “What are your skills exactly, Kelley? I mean, what is that you do?”

  She stared up at him innocently. “I, erm—I can type. I know Windows and Office. I could work as your secretary, maybe?”

  He leaned in and fixed her with those enchanting eyes. “I mean, what do you do in life? What makes you passionate? What rocks your boat?”

  For a moment, she hesitated. She still hadn’t decided whether this guy was for real or not and whether she shouldn’t just bail and tell him to go to hell and pay for his fucking jewels himself, but she had the impression he wasn’t dicking around. If she walked out now, he probably would make her pay, one way or the other.

  She chewed her lower lip, remembering that kiss in the elevator. It seemed so unreal now, as if it hadn’t really happened. But it had. She stared up at him, trying to get a line on him. Who was he, really? Then, as their eyes met, she decided holding back wouldn’t cut it. She had the impression he already knew all about her.

  “I’m politically very active, if you must know. I go to marches, protests, rallies, demonstrations. Organize sit-ins.” She expelled a delicate cough and averted her gaze. “Hack computers.”

  “Whose computers?” he instantly shot back.

  She hitched up her shoulders. Duh. Wasn’t it obvious? “The super-rich, of course. You know, the one percent? The creeps with all the money keeping the rest of us subjugated and downtrodden?”

  His smile grew wider. “You mean people like me. My family.”

  She swallowed away a little lump in her throat. She’d protested against banks and corporations until she was hoarse, but she’d never actually met one of the ruling class face to face like this. “I guess.”

  He stared down at her, then cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his eyes again. “Do you think I’m suppressing you, Kelley? Subjugating you?”

  She felt a quiver start at the soles of her feet and travel up all the way to the top of her head at the intense gaze he directed at her. There was something primal about him, she decided, something wild and untethered, and it took her breath away.

  “Y-yes,” she murmured, and wished that hadn’t sounded so damned wistful.

  With a sly grin, he lowered his face to hers, and when their lips met, she knew she was in a lot more trouble than she’d figured.

  Chapter 7

  He wondered briefly what he saw in this girl, but then their lips met and all thought was wiped from his mind. The moment he clasped her to him, a fire raged inside unlike any he’d ever experienced, and he knew he wanted her—wanted her badly. As her body molded against his, his cock was instantly hard and erect, pressing against her belly, and he couldn’t help but roll his hips to release some of the pent-up desire.

  Seconds later, he’d fallen back onto his desk, wiping pencils and file folders to the floor, and she was on top of him. Then he rolled her over and pinned her down, his knee spreading her legs and his hand freely roaming her chest where her leather jacket had fallen open. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath the black shirt, and the feel of her soft flesh under his grasp sent another surge of heat coursing thro
ugh his overcharged system.

  The next moment, he was sliding his hand beneath her shirt and when they were flesh on flesh, his fingers splaying around her nipple, he was descending his mouth on her tender skin, his mouth desperately sucking in her tit, his other hand sliding down and feeling its way between her legs of its own accord.

  Then he found the button to her jeans and was snapping it open, and it was a testament to the hunger she was feeling when she slithered out of her jeans and pushed down her panties along with them. He briefly caught a glimpse of her dark hair standing out against her pale skin, and the outline of her pussy lips beyond, and he thought he’d never seen anything more enticing.

  “Fuck me, Will,” she moaned against his neck as she flung her hands around him. “Fuck me hard.”

  His jaw working, he freed himself of his own pants, and when his cock swung out, he knew he had to take it easy, or he would come all over her before they’d even started.

  He picked her up from the desk, straddled against the saddle of his crotch, and carried her easily to the burgundy leather couch he kept for visitors.

  She reared up her head to fix him with those magnificent chocolate eyes of hers, her black hair falling in tousled strands across her face, and groaned, “Put it in. Put it in before I go crazy.”

  And even before they’d reached the couch, he lifted her up and speared her onto his burgeoning cock, her pussy so wet he eased into her past the tip in one go. Then he was bucking against her, and with every push, felt himself reaching deeper inside her hot flesh. And when they finally reached the couch and he slammed her down on top of it, face down, they were deeply fucking, her body digging into the soft leather of the couch and his cock buried deeply inside her soppy cunt.