by Jessa Kane
Veda examines her dress, hands shaking as she pats and smoothes the material back into place. “I’m here, dad.”
I close my eyes and breathe through my nose, attempting to rein in the possessiveness and focus. After all, I’m about to come face to face with a man, while my dick is still hard for his little girl. Something that definitely doesn’t happen every day, especially not to me.
When Veda floats past me, she trails her fingers over the sleeve of my tuxedo jacket and the storm inside me calms. Settles right down. I can breathe again. And if I wasn’t sure already she would be mine, that would have done it. She’s indispensable.
“I thought you were going to the bathroom,” her father says to my left, his voice wary in a way that makes it clear he sees me standing there. So I turn and watch Veda approach her father, accepting his arm as it settles across her shoulders.
“I just needed some air.” She turns and sends me a secret smile, appeasing me. I get the sense she likes appeasing me and goddamn, it goes both ways. I’d love the chance to appease her and I will have it. “Dad, this is Ramsey Beckett.”
“I know who he is.” A polite, but stilted nod. “Mr. Beckett.”
“Mr. Rose.”
He’s visibly startled that I’ve been talking to Veda long enough to learn his last name. If I had room to feel sympathy around everything Veda has woken up inside me, I would have felt it for the other man in that moment, because the situation is about to get much more difficult for him.
“I’d like to meet with you in the morning, Mr. Rose.” I stride toward the building entrance, a knot tightening in my throat when I pass Veda and she peeks up at me from beneath her eyelashes. “First thing in the morning, please.”
I close the door before he can give me an answer—and there’s no need.
The only answer in my world is yes.
Chapter Two
When Mr. Rose—or, Jack, rather, as I’ve discovered is his name in the employee database—walks into my office the following morning, he’s twice as suspicious as the prior evening. It’s there in the set of his jaw, the dilation of his pupils. He already hates me and that’s just as well, since it’ll save time. I can tell he’s trying to read me, to get some clue about why I’ve called the meeting, but he’ll get nothing. I’m expressionless as usual, although it took an extra hour of sweating on my rowing machine this morning to arrive at this level of calm.
I was shaken up last night. I’m still shaken up.
I want the girl now. Need to have her or this unsettled bullshit wrecking my stomach and mind will continue to get worse. All I can think about—yes, even while looking her father right in the eye—is the tight swell of her ass in my hands. The way she was so unimpressed with my arrogance, my company title. How she followed me and got upset on my behalf. Veda is out there somewhere right now and I require her with me. In fairness, she’s not just somewhere. She arrived safely at her all-girls school in Brooklyn Heights this morning, because it was reported to me in real time. Still, I’m not an acknowledged part of her life or her daily schedule yet, and that fact is unacceptable.
I stand up and shake Jack’s hand, both of us taking our seats once again. “Good morning, Mr. Rose.”
“Good morning,” he echoes, adjusting his collar and taking in the size of my office, the panoramic view of Lower Manhattan, the East River and beyond. “I bet you never get tired of looking at that.”
He’s wrong. I stopped appreciating it a long time ago. When I look out the window now, all I see is a means to an end. A place my father used to stand and look just as miserable, while dismantling companies and selling their parts to the highest bidder. No, the skyline holds no pleasure for me, but now…I’m wondering if Veda might enjoy it. How the gentle curves of her body would look outlined by the lights at night. “Mr. Rose, I’ve read through your last three employee evaluations.” I pick up the file of medium thickness and let it drop. “I’m of the opinion that you’re being underutilized.”
“Really.” He nods, his face a mask of caution, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. We’re both impatient, but for entirely different reasons. He wants answers. I want his daughter. “I can’t pretend I didn’t already feel that way, but I’m curious, Mr. Beckett, why the company CEO is looking through the file of someone he probably shouldn’t even be aware exists.”
After reviewing his records, I expected Jack to be a shrewd man. Especially after the way he reacted to seeing me on the roof last night with Veda. So I’m not going to play games and do us both a disservice. “I think we both know why I’ve taken an interest in you.”
His throat works with a slow swallow. “Yes. We do.” He swipes a hand down his face, but not before I see a flash of anger in his eyes. Anger that—surprisingly—doesn’t come across in his tone. “Mr. Beckett. My daughter, Veda…she fascinates people. Men. Always has. It’s a problem I’ve had a hard time dealing with since her mother died.”
If I’m not careful, the sudden bouts of jealousy are going to give me a stroke. I don’t want to hear about other people looking or thinking about Veda. End of story. “I’m very sorry about your wife.” I hold his attention a moment and realize, for once, I’m not faking my sincerity, although, my sympathy is more for Veda than anyone else. I know what it’s like to lose a mother. Even though mine is still alive, she forgot my name a long time ago. A small mercy, considering her son turned out to be more ruthless in the boardroom than her estranged husband, and that coldness always drove her away.
Despite my empathy for Jack and Veda’s loss, however, I only operate one way and it’s a far cry from nice. Especially this time, when I’m going out of my mind for the feel of Veda again. Already, the life she infused me with is dimming and I need her to replenish me.
“Your wife was sick for quite a while,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “I’m sure that was difficult.”
Jack inclines his head. “It was.”
The weight in those two words is something I recognize, even if I don’t comprehend the pain behind them. I only understand that Veda lies on the other side of this meeting and I would bulldoze half of Manhattan to reach her. She’s worth any cost. Even playing the villain to the grief-stricken man across from me. A task, I realize with some surprise, I don’t relish. But the irresistible reward of Veda propels me forward. “And while the company’s employee health plan is one of the best, it still didn’t cover all the medical bills. Your debt is…severe.”
He doesn’t look up from his hands, now folded on his lap. To get this information, I had to invade his privacy, but that fact seems like a foregone conclusion to Jack. “That problem I mentioned earlier about people becoming overly interested in Veda…I’ve had no choice but to send her to an all-girls private school. And the dance classes.” His shoulders lift and fall. “I should have made changes a long time ago, but I’ve been holding out, thinking I’d move into a management position.”
“You’re in luck.” My voice rings slightly hollow, so I drink from the glass of water on my desk. “I’ve had a managerial position open up in the Netherlands. A tech company we acquired and decided to salvage. It’s three times your current salary.” I pick up the stapled documents to my right and lay them down in front of Jack. “And if we can agree on these specific terms, I’d be willing to satisfy your wife’s medical debts, in addition to moving expenses and the more sizable income.”
His expression is one of stunned confusion for long moments, then his eyes fall to the documents. “Why would you do that?”
An image of Veda floating across the roof twists through my mind. “In exchange for getting you out of debt and providing the means to get back on your feet, your daughter will remain here with me, in New York.” I gesture to the paperwork, completed by my attorney late last night. “You only need to sign and I’ll become Veda’s legal guardian.”
“I can’t do that,” Jack grounds out.
“You will do it.” I take a pen from my desk and toss it onto the paperwork
, slipping into that cold zone of negotiation and forcing myself to remain there. “I think we can be frank with one another, Mr. Rose, so I won’t insult you by pretending I don’t want to take Veda to bed. Badly.” His incensed gaze flies to mine. “But I can promise you she’ll be treated with respect while under my protection. I would sooner leap from this building than upset her. She’ll be given anything she could ever want.” I leave it unspoken that he can’t do the same. “She must remain with me until she’s eighteen—the contract is conditional on that fact—at which point, she’ll be given the option to leave or stay. Although, you should know that I’ll do everything in my power to ensure the latter.”
“Why?” Mr. Rose shakes his head. “You’re young. You look like a damn movie star. When the women on my floor pass you in the lobby, they talk about it for weeks.” Silence passes. “Is it only because she’s…seventeen?”
I’m unused to being asked for reasons from anybody and I find the prospect of discussing my inner workings distasteful. But I force myself to attempt an explanation, perhaps because I’m looking for one myself. I’ve never experienced this kind of all-consuming fixation before, nor will I again. “If it were only about her age, I could make that happen in my world. Nothing is…off limits to men like me.” A sharp object jabs me in the chest and twists. “I was asleep before she appeared and now I’m so awake I can barely fucking stand it. Does that answer your question?”
Eyes falling shut, he picks up the pen. “This makes me as much a bastard as you. Selling my own daughter.” The tip touches down on the signature line. “If I had any other option—if I wasn’t weeks from losing everything—I wouldn’t do it.”
“Aren’t you going to read the full contract?”
“What could be worse than what I already know?”
He shouts the question, causing my security guard to step into the doorway, but I wave them off. “There is one more thing.”
Chapter Three
Normally on a Thursday afternoon, I’m waist-deep in conference calls and purchase negotiations at the office, but I’ve cancelled the second half of my day. I want—fuck it, I need—to be home when Veda arrives. It has been five days since our first meeting on the roof and I’m barely holding on. Apart from the photographs I’ve been sent of her going about her daily activities, I’ve had no contact with her and I’m like a caged bear, pacing the living room of my apartment.
All right, maybe ‘apartment’ isn’t the correct word for my four-story living quarters in Tribeca, located at the top of a fifty-story luxury building. From here, I can see the Hudson and New Jersey on the other side. From my bedroom upstairs, the Statue of Liberty seems close enough to touch and yet I’m not confident about any of the amenities now. I can’t very well see the place through the eyes of a seventeen-year-old girl, can I? So I’ve hired the correct people to make sure Veda’s wishes are met at all times, since I can’t be home often enough. A fact that never bothered me before, but I have a distinct feeling will be abhorrent to me going forward.
My cell phone buzzes in my pocket signaling an incoming text. The bellman downstairs is letting me know Veda is on her way up in the elevator and God almighty, my cock starts to get hard. I know what you must think of me by now, but understand that the moment those elevator doors roll open and I witness Veda’s trepidation, I stop thinking with the heavy tool in my briefs, because my chest wants to cave in. She looks so small inside the polished chrome mouth of the elevator, suitcases being held by a bellman to her right. So fragile.
Fragile and…a touch suspicious.
If I hadn’t made it the final condition that Veda know nothing about the contract—merely that I’ve offered her a place to stay while Jack is overseas—I would think she knew what I’d done. But I don’t think her father is that reckless.
I’ve closed half of the distance between us before I realize I’ve even moved, issuing a brief directive to the bellman regarding where to leave Veda’s luggage. I consider asking if she’s going to remain in the elevator forever, but she finally steps out, head tilting back so she can meet my eyes. Hers are still filled with unease as she says, “You’re even more handsome in the light.” Her chin is stubborn. “I wish you were ugly.”
“Why?”
She lifts one shoulder gracefully and lets it fall, beginning to play with the edge of her skirt. Her short, blue and white plaid, private school skirt. Fuck. Me. “I can’t think straight around you,” she whispers, as if sharing a secret. “I think you’re up to no good, Ramsey Beckett, but I think the more time I spend around you, the less I’m going to care. And that’s bad.”
If she thinks I look better in the light, someone should get her a mirror, because I’m completely fucking mesmerized. There are little green pinpricks in her giant, blue eyes. Her mouth is straight off a cherub, right along with her smooth, lightly flushed complexion. Don’t get me started on the taut, inviting lines of her body, because there’s not enough time in the world to list their perfections.
However, it’s in that moment I decide to take things somewhat slowly. She’s already got suspicions—and they’re correct. I’m a man who became consumed by her on sight. I’ve bought her, moved her into my house. There’s no way around that fact. But I can make sure she doesn’t feel pressure to give me any part of herself. I can give her time to trust me, even though I’ll probably die several small deaths in the process.
“I’m up to no good, am I?” I step back and gesture toward the staircase, which sweeps upward from the living room. “What makes you think so?”
When Veda precedes me up the stairs with an eye roll, I don’t even make an attempt to look away from the side-to-side snap of her hips, the lily-white panties that peek out when her skirt flaps back with each step. “You sent my father to the Netherlands and now I’m here.” She pauses mid-step and turns, one foot on a higher step than the other, giving me a decadent view of her cotton-covered pussy. “Would you have done that if we hadn’t met on the roof and…kissed?”
Watching the flush creep up her neck, I run my tongue along the inside of my lower lip. “You’re letting me look up your skirt right now and you have the nerve to turn pink?”
Her hips sway a little, a smirk plumping her lips, but I can see the gravity in her eyes. She might be playing the flirt, but she’s only doing it to distract me. “You didn’t answer my question,” she says.
I can’t be honest with her. Not completely. Not until she has a chance to know me. Yes, I’ve gone to extremes to get her here. Yes, I’m a bad man. But I’m determined to be a good one for Veda.
“Your father was due a promotion and he was in debt. Did meeting you on the roof cause me to look into the situation?” I take her knee and ease her thighs closed, because one more second of looking at heaven and I will attempt to fuck her into a screaming fit on the stairs. “Yes. I wanted to know more about you, and in turn, your father. When I saw the dire straits he was in, I had to move quickly.”
She scrutinizes me for long moments, before continuing up the stairs, her fingers trailing slowly up the railing. The way I’d like them to do on my belly. “Which room is mine?”
“Last door on the right,” I answer, moving even with her as we walk down the hallway, her slip-on sneakers squeaking on the white marble. I reach out and push the door open, finding her luggage resting upright near the closet. Before I can explain where the en-suite bathroom and walk-in closet are located, she moves past me with an expression of awe. The sunlight streaming in from the wall-to-wall windows bathes her face, making the sparkles of her eye makeup twinkle.
She turns in a pirouette at the room’s center, much like she did on the roof five nights ago and my heart begins to rap rap rap like a fist on a heavy wooden door. “This can’t be where I’m sleeping.” Her hands fly up to cover her mouth. “There’s only one wall. Won’t it break off and fall into the river?”
I know she’s joking, but I suddenly want to switch her to a different room. “Do you like it?”
Her words are made of frothing champagne bubbles, so I’m at a loss when her shoulders sag and she flops onto the bed. She’s gone from ecstatic to depressed in the space of one second and my heart plummets along with her mood. “What’s the matter, angel?” I approach the bed, hypnotized by the sight of her sprawled out body, especially now that her rucked-up blouse has put her stomach on display. “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll handle it before you can blink.”
She sits up, pushing the fall of blonde hair behind one slim shoulder. “It’s nothing, really.”
I take her chin in my hand, tilting it up. “Tell me.”
Blue eyes flash at mine while she hesitates. “Every year, my dad is working on parent-teacher conference day, but he was going to make it this year. Took the day off and everything.” She tilts her head, nuzzling her cheek into my hand. “No one has made the appointment since my mother died and it always feels like I’m the only one. The only student who doesn’t have someone to show up.”
Guilt prods me in the gut like a glowing iron poker. “You still have those conferences, even though you’re a senior in high school?”