No wind blew. There wasn’t even a hint of a breeze. The grass stood green and tall, not wavering.
Inside, everything felt just as still. Like something was impending … a storm, a cataclysm … an ending …
He lifted his chin, ready to face it. He’d prepared himself for this and it was time to confront everything he knew was going to come at him.
And it was going to come at him fast and furious.
In the past few weeks, he’d grown soft. He’d let down his guard. He couldn’t be like that in the city.
The memory of the flashing lights and waving microphones at Otisville pushed at the edges of his memory. They were still out there, the hungry buzzards, but he was ready for them now.
Because of her.
In worming her way past his defences, she’d made him face himself and grow stronger. He was ready for the showdown now. In fact, he relished the challenge of it.
The only thing he worried about was her.
He adjusted the band of his Rolex. He wasn’t sure she was ready. She was a fighter, but she had a sensitive soul. He didn’t know how she’d hold up under the limelight, because it would shine on her like a laser beam.
There wasn’t much he could do to protect her from that.
The clippety-clop of a roller bag echoed up the stairwell, reverberating as she came around the corner from the elevator. He sighed. ‘Can you not leave anything for the staff to do?’
She propped the plain blue bag up against the wall and began searching through her purse. She seemed … fluttery. It wasn’t a word he normally associated with her. She was graceful as she did yoga, elusive when she hid in the forest, charged when they had sex.
But not fluttery.
‘I don’t want to leave anything I need behind.’ Her laptop bag bounced against her hip. She unzipped it and touched the laptop to make sure it was there, then went on to thumb through pages of notes.
‘If you leave anything behind, we can buy new.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Her raised eyebrows told him that the things she was concerned about couldn’t be bought. She was concerned about her work, as she rightly should be. It had taken her an entire afternoon to pick and choose what she’d wanted to bring from the lake house. He’d gone down to help her pack her notes, but she’d insisted on working with Leonard. Alex had tried not to take it personally.
But she’d piqued his interest.
She’d taken more care packing that material than she had the new clothes and shoes he’d bought for her. Those she’d left for the staff. Her notes and books she’d packed herself.
‘Leonard can ship whatever you need.’
Her lips pursed. It was clear she hadn’t thought about that. Her shoulders relaxed.
He walked over to her and relieved her of the heavy computer bag. He knew it was precious to her, so he set it nearby where she could see it. He slid his hands down her arms and gripped her hands. ‘Just bring an overnight bag and the computer. James will bring the rest.’
Her brow furrowed in a way that was cute. ‘Aren’t we going with James?’
‘No.’ He had other plans for transportation.
Almost on cue, a steady thump thump thump could be heard on the horizon. The beat grew consistently louder, invading the tower above them.
Elena’s face turned pale. ‘What is that?’
‘Our ride.’ He caught her hand and nodded at Leonard, who’d appeared in the archway to the front room. ‘These two bags, please.’
He grabbed his briefcase himself. He understood her paranoia. He had some notes that were irreplaceable himself. ‘Shall we?’
He hesitated when she dug in her heels. Her eyes rounded on the window as the helicopter landed in the front yard. ‘You could have escaped here any time you wanted,’ she said.
‘It’s not an escape. The news vans outside will catch up in a few hours.’
‘Then why?’ She was looking at the helicopter like it was a big ugly bug.
He smiled. ‘I do like playing with them.’
Like a wolf with a rabbit …
Her fair colouring went from pale to off-green. Those doubts nipped at his ass again, and he tapped her under the chin, making her look at him. The fear on her face made his gut twist.
What was holding her back? Heading into New York? Or flying in that metal bird? Either way, he didn’t like the idea of making her do something that frightened her.
He stiffened. He’d already made his decision. It was time to go, and he was going big. Yet she still had to have the right to choose.
‘You don’t have to go with me,’ he offered.
Yet his chest hurt as he held his breath. He didn’t know if he could leave without her.
Her eyes were huge as she looked up into his face. ‘They’ll find out about the two of us.’
The words lanced through him and he physically flinched. Out of everything, that wasn’t a reservation he’d considered. She was still concerned about her reputation? She didn’t want to be seen with him?
The snake inside his chest writhed in pain, but instead of striking out it was looking for a safe place to curl up. Lifting his chin, he gritted his teeth and smoothed his face. ‘My security team can get you out of here once I’m gone. You can go anywhere you want … do anything you want to do …’
His jaw tightened so hard it popped. ‘I’ll pay for it.’
Her head snapped back so quickly, her long hair swung. The quiver in her chin disappeared and her hands curled into fists. He’d seen her angry before, almost hateful towards him, yet he’d never seen her livid. Her dark eyes sparked and he felt a charge when she marched forward and planted her hand flat on his chest.
‘When are you going to learn that money isn’t the answer to everything?’
She pushed him right where his heart was gaping. Ax was so surprised, he took a step backward. She followed, grabbing him by the lapels and going up on tiptoe to get into his face.
He dropped his briefcase. It bounced somewhere near his feet and the thud echoed. He caught her in his arms and kissed her like the earth had just been set on fire.
Maybe money didn’t rule the earth …
But he might have just found what did.
Chapter Eleven
The view from the Park Avenue penthouse was stunning. Elena looked out of a window that competed with the clouds. The altitude, the opulence and the magnitude of it all made her head reel. The Art Deco limestone building gave a bird’s-eye view of Central Park and tree-lined boulevards. It was the most coveted real estate in the city.
Yet the clouds hung low and fat, a familiar sight in a not so familiar world.
She turned away from the view to get her sea legs. They’d only arrived a short time ago. She hadn’t yet seen all of the apartment, which took up the entire top floor, but in one sweep she recognised more of Alex here than she’d seen in the entirety of Wolfe Manor. The penthouse was crisp and modern. The style was the reverse of the look-but-don’t-touch antiques of the main house. Here, things begged to be touched. Everything from the curtains to the television to the lighting was controlled by the push of a button.
She should have expected nothing less from a technology guru.
Yet even with as much black-and-glass as she found around her, the place had more soul. More comfort. The sofa alone probably cost more than her yearly rent, but it begged her to curl up on it to watch the huge television that disappeared into the wall.
This was Alex’s true home. She swept her fingers over a plush recliner. He’d been torn away from this place and all his belongings to be put in a prison. They’d locked him in a barren cell with no diversions for that brilliant mind.
She bit her lip as she felt a pang. She couldn’t imagine how that must have felt. He’d had his freedom ripped away, but he was finally home for the first time in eighteen months.
And he’d brought her with him.
She took an uneven breath and perched on the arm of the chair to watch him. He
was speaking with his security people. He was in full business-shark regalia: grey suit, blue tie and gleaming Ferragamo shoes. He looked rich and powerful, but the tussled hair and dusty five o’clock shadow pushed the sex appeal into another realm.
She was wearing her Vera Wang blue sheath dress that fit her like a glove. She’d pulled her hair back in the clip that seemed to entrance him so, and new Jimmy Choo shoes smiled prettily from her feet. On the outside, they looked like a power couple. No traces of the nature lovers showed.
Yet he fit into this role so much better than she did.
‘Elena?’ He held his hand out to her. ‘Could you come here for a moment?’
She crossed the room to the foyer. It felt funny to be walking in heels, and it added another element to her gait. As properly as she was dressed, she felt sexy.
Apparently, it showed.
Alex’s gaze glinted and the bodyguards averted their gaze to become overly intrigued with the skylight.
‘I want to introduce you to the security team. This is Smith, Hanson and Vasquez. If you need anything at any time, you can go to them.’
‘Hello.’ She looked over the trio and tried not to be intimidated. Smith and Hanson were the size of linebackers, while Vasquez was whipcord lean. They all had that dangerous quality to them that made a woman’s radar ping. With their concrete chins and scarred knuckles, she was glad they were on Alex’s side.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said, looping an arm proprietorially around her waist. ‘This is Elena.’
So he had seen the male appreciation in their eyes.
‘Miss,’ Smith said.
‘Good day,’ Hanson greeted.
Vasquez merely nodded his head.
‘Whatever she wants, she gets.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Alex turned to her. ‘If I’m not around, you go to them, but don’t ask them to do anything that would put you in danger.’
‘Danger?’
‘You never know which way a crowd will turn, ma’am,’ Smith explained.
A crowd. The paparazzi, protestors and gawkers would soon be here. She knew they were going to congregate.
Alex nodded in dismissal. ‘Thank you. That will be all.’
The three men turned like soldiers who’d been given their marching orders. They left as silently as they’d appeared.
Elena looked up into Alex’s face. He appeared calm and in control. He was back in the scene and on his game.
He was also more closed off than she’d seen him in a long time.
He ran a finger along her cheek. ‘You’re pale.’
It had already been a challenging day. ‘I’ve discovered I’m not a fan of helicopter rides.’
He pulled her over to the bar and took his place behind it. He searched briefly before finding another bottle of the white wine she liked so well.
He popped the cork like an expert. ‘You seemed to enjoy the flight.’
That part had been thrilling. She’d loved the views of the lake and the countryside and Bedford. Things had gotten a bit too exciting when they’d made it to the city. ‘The flying part is fine. It’s the landing I could do without.’
They’d used the East 34th Street heliport, which had the FDR overpass practically on top of it. The approach had been nerve-wracking, but once they were on the ground, the location was convenient. A limo had been waiting only steps away, and the drive to the penthouse had been short.
She took the glass he handed her and sipped. She looked at him over the edge of the flute. ‘How does it feel to be back?’
He unbuttoned his jacket and glanced around the place. As she watched, the line of his jaw hardened.
‘Like it’s about damn time.’
She recognised that cool, determined look, but she could appreciate it better now. ‘What are your plans?’
That sharp grey gaze landed on her. ‘Our plans.’
Warmth unfurled in her chest. She was glad he considered this a partnership, but she was definitely the weaker link. She wasn’t as brave as he was or as focused. People were still angry, and they had questions. His return would poke the hornets’ nest.
If anyone recognised her, that would only compound the problem.
‘Easy.’ Rounding the bar, he took her hand.
She didn’t know who needed the other’s support more right now.
Together, they walked back to take in the spectacular view.
The sky was heavy. Dark and moody. It was the same sky that hovered over the rural part of the state, but the feel of the city was entirely different. New York had an energy like no other. It was stimulating and scary. Everything was going in top gear. Part of Elena craved that energy and wanted to dive back into it.
Yet a bigger part of her wished she was in the peaceful, secluded confines of the lake house.
She sipped from her glass again, and he squeezed her hand.
‘Are you ready for the board meeting tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘I’ve read all the materials. It’s going to be contentious.’
Couldn’t anything be easy any more? She worried about him walking alone into that meeting, but she knew, if she went, it would only cause even more of a distraction. She’d read the materials, too, and the company was in chaos. Alex might not have any connection with Wolfe Financial on paper, but it had been in his family for over a hundred years. Someone needed to do something. The board itself had been floundering.
‘How are you going to reclaim your good name?’ She hoped he was going to step up. WF needed someone who knew how to take control and wasn’t afraid to make the tough decisions. Right now, the financial institution was leaderless.
He looked pensive as he swirled his drink. ‘There is no good Wolfe name any more.’
She breathed slowly. That was right. His grandfather was still out there, running from his responsibilities. Then again, the Bardot name had lost its lustre, too.
He tossed back a gulp of whiskey, gritted his teeth and put the empty glass on an end table. ‘I’m not going to fight it any more.’
Her hair swished as her head swung around. ‘Why not?’
She’d never considered him to be one who would just take the abuse and slander.
‘There’s no use looking back.’ He smiled harshly. ‘They say that the best revenge is living well.’
She frowned. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘The hell I don’t.’ He waved his hand over the city. ‘I’m done hiding, and I’m not about to apologise.’
There it was, that anger that poked through the surface every so often. It had made fewer appearances recently, but she was beginning to understand it wasn’t going away. That anger was bone deep inside him.
She put down her drink and moved closer. As warm as his body was, he was stiff and uncompromising. She cosied up to him, trying to take some of that anger away. She knew she had power over it, and it didn’t scare her.
His fury was justified. He’d taken the brunt of the blame in the scandal, simply because he’d been available. Bartholomew hadn’t been around and her father had been dead. Alex had a right to be outraged, but she didn’t like how it ate him up from the inside.
She spread a hand over his chest above his heart, and he wrapped his arms around her.
‘You think I should beg for forgiveness.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I don’t. But you have to understand the way people think. Your grandfather still hasn’t faced the accusations, and you’re the closest thing to him.’
‘I’m not my grandfather.’ Alex snorted in derision. ‘And he won’t be saying he’s sorry, that’s for sure.’
Her fingers paused where she was stroking his tie.
Letting go of her, he drew a hand through his hair. ‘He never apologised for anything he did in his life. Ever.’
Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked fast. The bastard. How could someone do the things that man had done and not feel the slightest bit of remorse?
Then again, her father had
never said he was sorry either.
Not even in his suicide note.
She closed her eyes and cleared her throat.
‘I’m nervous about this,’ she confessed. ‘Maybe returning to New York wasn’t such a good idea.’
‘There’s no going back now.’ He cupped her chin. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.’
‘But who’s going to protect you?’
He laughed, but the sound held no humour. ‘I don’t need anyone to protect me. They’ve already done their damnedest. What more could they do?’
She shivered, not wanting to think about that. Going up on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. ‘It’s not much, but I’ve got your back.’
His nose brushed against hers as he looked into her face. ‘That’s not “not much”, pretty siren. It’s everything.’
* * *
The press was waiting the next day, milling about on the Park Avenue sidewalk. They knew what time the Wolfe Financial board meeting was, and they knew there was a good chance they’d finally see their target today. Alex Wolfe had avoided them for too long, locked down in the Wolfe compound. He’d travelled back to the city yesterday, though, and all indicators pointed to the meeting as the reason.
They couldn’t help but salivate.
It was a juicy story. They’d squeezed as much out of it as they could a year and a half ago, but it was spinning up again. The heartthrob tech whiz convicted of white-collar crimes was returning to the city he’d once ruled. Had prison changed the boy wonder? Was he more humble now? Had the degradation beaten him down? Was he finally ready to admit to his wrongs?
Or had the time he’d spent on the inside made him even more dangerous? The sharp-dressed billionaire had always had an edge.
Would The Ax be out for revenge?
People wanted to know, and it was their job to dig up the facts.
A black limousine pulled up to the kerb, and the mob went on the alert. Reporters checked their mics, and cameramen stooped to try to see through the darkened windows. Was this it? A murmur went through the crowd when the driver stepped out. He closed the door, tugged at his jacket sleeves and made sure they covered his shirt cuffs. He tucked in his chin and pulled back his shoulders as he rounded the car. The guy was built like a Mack truck.
Solace in Scandal Page 17