The Magnate's Manifesto

by Jennifer Hayward

  Bailey tucked into his side, curved against his warm body as the filtered Paris moonlight carried them off to sleep, his denial grew weaker. It was useless to pretend even for a second that nothing had changed. Because everything had.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE PEAL OF HIS cell phone in the adjoining room woke Jared at six the next morning. Blinking against the light filtering through the windows, he slid out of bed, grabbed his boxers from the floor and hightailed it into his room in the hopes of catching it before it woke Bailey.

  A glance at the call display told him it was Danny, his PI. Kicking the connecting door closed, he took the call.

  “Stone.”

  “You sound half-asleep. Thought you’d be halfway down the Champs-Elysées by now, running your little heart out.”

  “Eventful night last night.” Jared crossed to the French doors and squinted out at the empty Paris streets. “You have something for me or did you just call to pay me back?”

  “It’s your father. I had my contact do the usual check-in this week. He said he wants to talk to you.”

  His father wanted to talk to him? He pressed his palm against the elegantly carved mahogany casing of the door. It had been, what, a year and a half, two years, since he’d talked to Graham Stone in a short, curt conversation to sort out some legalities.

  “What does he want? Is he okay?”

  “He wouldn’t say. Says you need to come to him.”

  His shoulders stiffened. Why should he go running when his father had shut him out for almost a decade?

  Danny read the pause. “He doesn’t look great, Jared. Pretty haggard from what my guy says.”

  His chest tightened. This was not what he needed right now. “I can’t go for a couple of weeks.”

  “I’m just relaying the message. Oh and Jared?” His PI’s voice deepened to a satisfied purr. “That dirt you wanted on Michael Craig’s proclivity to abuse his expense accounts? I have it. It’s bigger and better than you could have imagined.”

  A twist of satisfaction curled through him. “Send it through. All of it.”

  He ended the call and tossed his cell phone on the desk. Michael Craig deserved what he had coming to him. What caused an ache to sit low in his chest, ever-present but more pronounced now, was how much he loved his father. Graham Stone had never been too busy, even with his insane hours as a banker, to spend time with his son. Whether it had been building a car or throwing a football around, he’d always been there, even if it wasn’t as much as Jared would have liked. Then slowly, in the later years, his father had begun to sink. The massive amounts of stress had finally gotten to him, sending him to a place his youthful son couldn’t understand or help him out of.

  A fist squeezed his chest, growing larger with every breath. When his father had made his biggest mistake, had stolen that money, it had been too late, far too late to do anything to save his soul. There likely would never be a day on this earth when Jared wouldn’t wonder what else he could have done to prevent it. He’d just learned to live with the guilt.

  Or had he? The slow burn consuming him didn’t make him think so. He’d always thought that walking away, distancing himself from the shame that had enveloped his family, was the right thing to do for his own survival. For his business, where reputation was everything. His father hadn’t wanted his help, so what choice had he had?

  Light slanted across his face as the sun rose higher in the sky. He had a decision to make. Did he stop running and see what the man who had once been his hero wanted? Or did he wait until it was too late?

  Rather than contemplate a question he wasn’t prepared to answer, he headed for the shower. It was too late to go back to bed and really, it was the last place he should be. Why he’d thought he could take Bailey to bed in a no-strings arrangement as she’d offered was the joke of the century.

  He turned the shower on and stepped under a steaming hot spray. No strings. He might as well have handed Bailey the rope and asked her to tie him up in knots. Because if his Zen master had cornered him now and ordered self-awareness, he would have had to admit the only word for last night was…emotional. He struggled to get his mouth around the word because it was so foreign to his vocabulary. Emotion didn’t figure into his work or relationships. It was an unwise word that made people do stupid things. But he could not deny the truth. He had never felt so connected to another person in his life. And not just because Bailey had been a virgin. It’d been as if he was in her head and she’d been in his.

  God. He tipped his head back and sluiced the water out of his face. He’d told himself not to do it. Had warned himself it was a mistake. Why did he continue to let himself want what he couldn’t have? How could he be tangling himself up in a woman who was not only the obsession of Alexander Gagnon, she was rapidly becoming his?

  He tipped shampoo over his head and attempted to scrub some sense back into his brain. He needed to focus on this presentation and win. Take Bailey at her word. It had been one night of ridiculously good sex agreed upon by two consenting adults.

  The fact that Bailey had stolen a piece of his heart last night, had been stealing pieces of it for the past week, was inconsequential. He would never be the kind of man who connected on a permanent basis. He didn’t have it in him.

  It was time he started acting like it.

  * * *

  Bailey leaned back against the bathroom door, nail in her mouth in an absentminded chew as she contemplated an in-the-shower Jared from the perspective of a woman he’d just taken to heaven and back. She was sure no other man would equal his outrageously good body and technique, and had a newfound appreciation for the tennis bracelet club in the Valley.

  She replaced the thoroughly chewed nail with another. Last night had been exactly what she’d needed to take her mind off Alexander Gagnon. Except she wasn’t sure it’d just been sex. She could have stayed in Jared’s arms forever. And that was the problem. Not that he’d sneaked out of her bed.

  She swallowed hard. Last night had been unforgettable. The heartbreakingly beautiful way Jared taken her virginity, so in tune with her every emotion…how treasured he’d made her feel…how desired.

  Oh, Lord. She snaked a hand through her tangled hair. She’d told herself she wasn’t getting emotional about this. Enough.

  She cleared her throat. “Could you tell me where that research is? I want to read it before our meeting.”

  The click of the shower shutting off should have been her first clue he was getting out. Why she stood there frozen as he shoved the curtain aside and reached for a towel, water dripping off his utterly delicious masculinity, she wasn’t sure.

  “Sorry, I—” She took a step backward. “I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”

  “For God’s sake, Bailey.” He ran the towel over his hair. “You had your legs wrapped around me last night. It’s a little late to be embarrassed.”

  Yes, well, that was last night and this was now. She bit her lip. “Was that your phone I heard earlier?”

  He nodded, relieving her immensely by wrapping the towel around his hips. The hard set of his angular face didn’t do a great job of reinforcing that comfort, however. His blue gaze was laser-focused and impersonal as he waved his hand toward the bedroom. “It’s on the table by the window. Help yourself.”

  She shifted her weight to the other foot, studied him. Regret. Definitely regret. Fine.

  “I ordered us coffee and croissants. I’ll go read it.”

  “Thanks.”

  She waited, a fraction of a second, just to see if he’d have anything to say about last night. Anything that might make today a little less awkward.

  The silence was deafening.

  She dug her toe into the tile and looked up at him. “It’s clear you regret what happened last night.”

  He gave her an even look. “I don’t regret it.”

  “Then why do you look li—”

  “Bailey.” His gaze narrowed. “It was great. It was hot. You were hot.
Absolutely worth it. What else can I say?”

  She squinted at him. Had he actually just said that?

  A sharp pain gouged her insides. “Right,” she said, clenching her stomach and pushing past it. “Good to know. And in case you’re running a little scared which is wholly possible, you’re absolutely right. I meant what I said. It was one night. We’re good.”

  She turned on her heel and left before she became certified dangerous.

  * * *

  They spent the morning hearing presentations from the marketing and sales groups at Maison headquarters in the Montparnasse district of Paris. Jared thought it interesting that Bailey sat on the other side of the room from him beside an attractive, very young French marketing executive who flirted with her at every possible opportunity. He told himself it was a smart, strategic move on her part, positioning herself as part of the Maison team.

  That was before, however, she walked away from him midsentence during a break. Before she blew off his request to get her a coffee.

  “Bailey.” He kept his voice low as he cornered her on the way back from the machine, coffee in hand. “You know this can’t happen between us. It’s a bad idea.”

  She looked up at him, the only sign there was anything going on behind that ice-cold expression of hers the quivering of her bottom lip. “I told you this morning, I get it. Hang on to that impressive set of rules, Jared. It’s all good.”

  He stood there, speechless, as she ducked around him and set the coffee down. Really? She was going to be like that about it?

  The deep freeze continued throughout the afternoon as they toured three of Maison’s stores in Paris. Through the cocktails that preceded the French company’s annual summer party they’d been invited to attend along with the Gehrig team. He held it together through it all, until they were speaking to the CEO of a Parisian cosmetics company Maison had a partnership with, Jared laying on the charm because the CEO was a great contact to have. Then Bailey rolled her eyes at him. Rolled her eyes at him and muttered something about needing to use the ladies’ room.

  He stared after her, a dangerous heat filling his head. What was wrong with her? They had the biggest deal of his life to win tomorrow, he had backed her without fail this entire time, and she was acting like a girl over one night together?

  He made it through the rest of his conversation with the CEO, scouted out the washrooms and found them in a hallway off the restaurant. They were one-person affairs, and there were multiples of them. He eyed the one marked women with the door closed, stuck his hand against the wall and waited.

  When the door swung open and Bailey stepped out, he pounced.

  “Give me a minute, will you?” He bit the words out as he shoved her back into the washroom and shut the door.

  “Jared—” She looked up at him with wide eyes. “This is not the place.”

  “You’re making it the place.” He jammed his hands in his pockets and stared at her. “You told me last night there were no strings. So for God’s sake what is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.” She bit her lip and made a study of the intricate pattern of the floor tiles.

  His curse split the air. He slid his fingers under her chin and brought her gaze up to his. The brightness in her eyes made his stomach clench. “Don’t you do this to me, Bailey. You promised me you’d be okay with this.”

  “I am.” She pulled out of his grasp and backed up against the vanity. “I guess I’m just not made of stone like you are. Funny,” she derided, forcing out a harsh bark of laughter, “women like to use that to refer to a certain body part of yours, but I think it better describes your heart. You can just turn it off and on at will, can’t you?”

  He looked at her nonplussed. “Apparently not with you, because here I am when I should be schmoozing executives.”

  “Oh,” she choked out. “I think you were doing an excellent job of that.”

  “Jealous, Bailey?”

  She stared him down for a moment, then leaned back against the vanity and ran her hands through her hair. “I just—I don’t…I’m just finding it hard to put last night aside. To pretend it wasn’t special when to me, it was.”

  He felt his carefully engineered defenses dissolve into dust. Bailey was like a flaw in his perfectly designed ability not to care. A weakness that would surely dismantle him completely if he let it.

  “It was…special to me too,” he admitted, choosing his words carefully. ‘I just don’t want us to get too carried away here.”

  “Why?” She poked him in the chest, and God, didn’t she know by now how much that antagonized him? “What do you think might happen if you let yourself feel? The earth might open up and swallow you whole?”

  “No, Bailey…”

  “Then what? What do you think’s going to happen?”

  He reached for her then, his hands purposeful as he sank them into her waist and deposited her on the marble counter. “I might do this.”

  He brought his mouth down on hers in a hot, hungry kiss that was equal parts punishment and absolution. She pushed her hands against his shoulders as if to reject him, but if he was jumping into the fire, then so was she. He cupped her jaw, gentled the kiss and called himself a complete and absolute fool. A sigh racked her as she buried her fingers in his hair and kissed him back, heated and without reserve.

  When he finally lifted his head, it was to nudge her thighs apart, step between them and draw her closer. “You are pulling me apart, piece by piece,” he admitted huskily. “And I don’t like it.”

  “I don’t, either.” She reached up and cradled his jaw in her palms. “But you hurt me this morning, Jared. Be honest with me, yes, but at least explain where it’s coming from.”

  “I’m sorry.” He whispered the words against her mouth. Against the velvety softness of her cheek. Against the perfectly shaped earlobe he bit into, sending a shiver through her. It moved through him, made his heart race as his hands went to the hem of her dress and pushed it up, allowing his palms access to the smooth, voluptuous curve of her hip. The scent of her warm, heated flesh filled his head. He slid his hands under her bottom and dragged her to the edge of the vanity. He wouldn’t take her here…he just needed to feel her against him.

  “Jared—” She moaned his name as if they should stop and start all at the same time. He pulled her hips into his and kissed her. Bailey whimpered and wound her legs around him, and if he’d been inside her it couldn’t have felt better than the sweet torture he was inflicting upon himself now.

  He lifted his mouth from hers and framed her face with his palms. “As much as I want this, it’s not happening here.”

  She nodded.

  He lifted her off the counter and straightened her clothes, then his own.

  “I need to fix my lipstick,” she murmured, looking a bit shattered. “You go.”

  He nodded and pulled open the door. Was halfway through it, when he turned back, pulled her into his arms and stole one last kiss. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He indulged it for a few seconds, then set her away from him.

  “We talk when we get back to the hotel, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He released her and left. He did not see Alexander until he just about walked into him. Stopping short, his gaze flickered back to the door he’d just exited from.

  “Oh, I caught the whole touching kiss.” The Frenchman’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Am I allowed to say I’m jealous? Because I am, Stone.”

  “Why don’t we say we’re overdue for a drink instead?” Jared resisted the urge to deck him. He was shutting Alexander Gagnon down and he was shutting him down now.

  Alexander lifted his shoulders. “If you say so.”

  Jared led the way to the bar by way of answer, ordered two scotches and took a deep pull of his before he deigned to speak. “Here’s how this is going to go, Gagnon. You’re going to stay away from Bailey, you’re never going to say another sideways word to her, and if you do, I will take
you out at the knees.”

  Alexander smiled, a lazy, loose twist of the lips that wasn’t at all concerned. “You have it bad, you know that, Stone?”

  He did. He was only beginning to realize how bad.

  Alexander eyed him over the top of his glass. “She said you weren’t sleeping together.”

  “Things change.” Jared set his drink down, flattened his palms on the bar and leaned forward until the far-too-smooth soon-to-be CEO filled his field of vision. “You aren’t ever having her. Get that through your head.”

  Alexander took a sip of his scotch. “No isn’t a word I tend to take very seriously. It only makes me want something more.”

  His mouth twisted. “You couldn’t even buy her. What makes you think you could ever have her?”

  A warning light flickered in those slate-gray eyes, but his shrug was elegantly dismissive. “This deal will make or break you, Stone. Decide your future at a very rocky point in your company’s history. Why not set Bailey free for a night? Donate her to the cause? You can put her in the shower afterward and pretend I never happened.”

  He froze. Clenched his hands by his sides. A fury like he’d never known blanketed him. “You are a sick bastard, you know that?” he gritted out. “She told me you wanted what I have. Well, you will never have what I have, Gagnon. Ever.”

  Alexander’s face tightened. “You are walking a thin, thin line Stone.”

  “As are you,” he bit out, shoving his drink on the bar and pushing to his feet. “I should have taken her under your nose tonight. That would have given me a deep sense of satisfaction.”

  He walked away before he lost his mind. Then thought he might already have. Because he shouldn’t have said that. He should not have gone there.

  * * *

  Bailey reentered the restaurant just as Jared got up from the bar, a coldly furious look on his face, and walked away from Alexander. The matching look the Maison heir wore sent alarm bells ringing through her. What could possibly have happened in the last ten minutes?

  Before she could snare Jared and find out, Davide was flagging him down to introduce him to someone. Then they were being rounded up for dinner with both Gagnons, the Gehrig team and several marketing executives from Maison. Jared sat beside her at the round table of ten, quietly seething, leaving Bailey to carry the conversation from their end.