by Kira Blakely
“Why didn’t you call me, Bon?” Nell asked. I knew she felt sorry for me, because she always reserved that nickname in times when she had no other means of consoling me. Her voice had dropped considerably, and she seemed like she was going to break into tears. I could feel my own lips quivering. When was the last time I’d cried? I hadn’t gotten to this place by crying or being weak.
Suddenly the doorbell rang. Saved by the bell! Neither of us would have to cry now.
“Someone’s at the door, Nell. I think it’s the courier,” I said, pulling a silk robe off the back of the bedroom door.
“All right. Yeah, maybe we can meet up tomorrow? I’ll call you after my shift,” she said, as I tied the robe’s cord around my waist. I was rushing to get the door. Anything to get away from this conversation. I would throw a fit, get red in the face any day… rather than cry!
“Yes, call me. Bye,” I said, hanging up on Nell before she could say another word.
I yanked the front door of my apartment open, expecting to find the courier guy on the other side.
I wasn’t expecting the enemy, Nash Preston.
Chapter 2
Bonnie
I would have recognized Nash Preston anywhere. Those gray as slate eyes that took no prisoners. That square chiseled jaw. He was still sporting two days’ worth of stubble. How he managed to maintain that carefully constructed messy look, I couldn’t tell you. He wore a pair of casual khaki linen pants, with a gray t-shirt and a dark-checked shirt on top, with the buttons open.
He loomed in my doorway, his tall build blocking the entrance. I had to crane my neck to look up at him. The cellphone in my hand nearly fell to the floor. I tried to pull the folds of my robe tighter around my body, quickly realizing that I wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. I didn’t want him to realize that, too. He stared at me, with a look of recognition on his face, like he was glad to meet an old friend.
“Bonnie, I’m sorry to drop in like this,” he said, in that unusually calm deep voice I hadn’t managed to forget.
“Nash? What are you doing here?” I blurted, clutching the sides of my robe together. I must have been a terribly pathetic sight, in my thin silk robe, my hair damp and limp around my shoulders, my skin flushed and yet pale under the fluorescent light of the hallway. And he looked amused; his eyes had a look of nostalgic recognition.
“Can I come in?” he asked politely, as he stepped into my apartment without waiting for a response.
My mouth fell open slightly, from the shock of it, but I managed to shut the door behind me. He seemed too big, and my apartment suddenly looked very small with him in there. He looked around with his gray eyes, drinking in my possessions, the cactus on my window sill, the pile of Chinese takeaway boxes next to the sink in the kitchen. If I was pissed off before, now my limbs were shaking from full-fledged rage. But Nash Preston looked pleased. I was embarrassed because I figured he was judging me, but he simply continued to smile. Like he was absolutely comfortable in these surroundings.
“What are you doing here, Nash?” I repeated.
His hands were thrust deep into the pockets of his pants. He wasn’t fooling anyone by trying to look like a normal person though. His dark shaggy hair and that two-day stubble wasn’t tricking me. He was the same privileged billionaire womanizer I’d known in college.
But he did look gorgeous. The same athletic build and broad shoulders that instantly made me feel safe. As much as I tried to force myself to despise him, I could feel my shoulders sagging. I was softening. He’d always had that effect on me.
“I decided to come see you in person, before our big meeting tomorrow,” he finally said, training his eyes back on me. I could feel my cheeks flushing. I wondered if he knew what I was thinking. I was trying to look at him angrily, when on the inside I was turned on from him just standing there. How was he still so hot? In fact, had he gotten hotter?
“Why?” I asked, flinging my phone over on the couch beside me. I was starkly aware of my lack of clothing, especially now that he was looking at me again. I wasn’t exactly properly “put together.” It was like he was undecided whether I was clothed underneath my robe or not. The smile forming on his face told me that he was leaning toward… not. I wished I’d known he was coming. This was not the state in which I wanted to be seen by Nash for the first time after all these years.
“I thought I’d visit an old friend, check on how you’re doing. It’s a big day tomorrow; I can’t imagine it’s easy for you,” he said, his gaze dropping briefly to my breasts. I crossed my arms over them, very conscious of my nipples, which were definitely misbehaving. Something told me that he could see right through the thin silk, that he could see my nipples. I knew they were hard underneath. And this time, I had no chance of hiding them under layers of clothing. Was this really happening right now? How could I stop it? I tried to concentrate on anger instead.
“We were never friends, and you’re right. It isn’t easy for me,” I snapped, tipping my head to the side as I glared at him. I wanted him to notice that I was angry. A part of me wanted him to leave, while another part wanted him to stay so I could look at him some more. But I was consciously trying to build up my temper. I had lost, and he had won. I may have been the star pupil in college, but in the long run, he was buying me out.
“I hear that you dedicated the past five years to building the firm. That’s impressive,” he said, surprising me with a softness in his eyes. I expected him to gloat, but he was making a good show of trying to appear apologetic. I wasn’t buying it.
“You heard right. I put in a lot of effort into it,” I said, my fingers twitching as I held on to my arms. I could feel my nails digging into my flesh.
“I understand,” Nash said, his gaze dropping to my breasts again. This time, I followed the look and noticed that in my effort to keep my arms tightly crossed, my breasts had pushed up together. My ample cleavage had managed to part the robe, and I was literally thrusting my breasts in his face. The last thing I wanted was for Nash Preston to assume that I was throwing myself at him!
I gasped and turned on my heels, pulling the robe together again. He hadn’t said a word, made no comment on what had just happened. But I still didn’t want to look at him. I was angry, embarrassed and turned on, all at the same time.
Nash remained silent, giving me time to supposedly gather myself.
“Well, I didn’t have a rich daddy to give me the money I needed. I had to do it all myself,” I snapped at him, trying to provoke him maybe. Also, I hoped that I could simply pretend that he hadn’t just seen my nearly bare breasts.
“Well, I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I have to do this,” he said, breathing in deeply. As if. There wasn’t a sorry bone in his body. I turned to him now, my face pinched with mock-pride.
“You’re sorry? You’re not sorry, Nash. You wouldn’t have turned up here to brag if you were.” The words came lashing out of me.
His brows rose, and he shook his head. He actually looked upset, and I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t falling for his act.
“Brag? I didn’t come here to brag, Bonnie. I came here to apologize. I wish I didn’t have to do this. I know how hard you’ve worked on the company and your codes,” he said, taking a few steps toward me. I couldn’t take my eyes off those large hands, the ones he was now holding out toward me. His broad chest rippled under his t-shirt, and I could feel myself going weak in my knees.
I stepped away from him, which made him stop, and I edged closer toward the wall. I didn’t want him anywhere near my breathing space. Whatever feelings I had for him in college were long gone now, replaced by rage and fury. His handsome exterior, that casual shaggy charm hid a heart of steel, just like his eyes. Nobody knew it better than I did. His gaze flickered, like he was embarrassed that I had stepped away from him. That I was treating him like a villain. But that’s the thing, I had convinced myself that he was the villain. This wasn’t about my company anymore. It was me against
him.
“No apologies needed, Nash. Nobody’s died. I’ll survive. You do what you have to do, I know you’ve been trying to one-up me ever since college; now you have your chance,” I said, standing with a straight back with whatever dignity I still had left in me.
But absolute chaos was occurring inside my head. Because as he stood before me, I was imagining how crazy it would be if Nash took a few long steps forward, pinned me to the wall with his powerful body and took me right there. Focus!
“One-up you? This isn’t a part of our little game, Bonnie. It isn’t college. This deal isn’t personal, just business, and I just wanted you to know that I am sorry,” he said, not smiling anymore. He was still playing Mr. Apologetic. I wasn’t going to fall for it.
Bulldozing smaller businesses was something Preston and Son had been doing for decades. And now Nash Preston had become one of them, too. It had always been his destiny, even though he had tried to portray himself as anti-establishment, a regular hard-working guy in college. The truth was that it was in his blood, and he was just like his father. And I wasn’t about to change my mind about him now.
A surge of confidence took over my body. He might be the winner here, getting to buy my company and prove he was better, but at least I had my independence. At least I wasn’t chained to family duties. At least I got to live my own life and not the one shaped by my daddy.
“Sure. It’s just business. And now, get out of my apartment,” I growled at him.
He didn’t expect me to say that to him, so directly. What had he expected? A red carpet unrolled at his feet, a tray of coffee and bagels on arrival?
He raised up his palms in a show of defense and shrugged. “I was just trying to be polite, touch base before our meeting and clear the air,” he said, stepping away from me.
“There’s the door, Nash,” I snapped, pointing to the front door. He swung his head to look at it, and then back at me again. A flash of sincere remorse appeared in his eyes, but I wasn’t going to fall for it this time. I’d spent too much of my time in college giving him the benefit of the doubt. I had been weak and stupid back then, but not anymore.
“Take it easy,” he said and started walking away. Finally! I could feel my shoulders heaving from the growing tension building up inside me. I wanted to scream. Throw a flower pot at the back of his head. I couldn’t believe that at one point in my life, I had imagined that I was in love with this man. What an asshole he had turned out to be. I couldn’t thank my lucky stars enough.
“It suits you, Bonnie,” he said suddenly, turning to me at the door as he held it open. I couldn’t bring myself to ask him what he was talking about. I was still panting noiselessly. Neither did he offer an explanation. It had been five years since I’d last seen him. He was buying my company, and I was supposed to hate him. Yet, I felt so breathless. It would just be easier to hate him if I didn’t still lust after him.
In the next moment, Nash Preston was walking out of my apartment, gently closing the door behind him. Leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Chapter 3
Nash
I ran my fingers across the row of crisp white shirts hanging in my walk-in closet. Honestly, they all looked the same, but they were an essential part of my wardrobe. My father had insisted that I hire a stylist initially when I took over the company chair, but I was confident from the start that white shirts couldn’t go wrong. I reserved them only for work though.
I had recently gotten into the habit of waking up at six in the morning so I could hit the gym. My days were now usually very long, and the weekdays merged into my weekends with very little time to spare. Now I knew why my father was always in a bad mood when I was growing up. But this had to be done. It was my family legacy, my inheritance. I had to keep the company going even after my father retired. That was what was expected of me, and I couldn’t disappoint.
I could feel the sweat from my workout trickling down my abs as I walked around the closet. I needed the workout. Two solid hours in the gym made up for all the hours I now spent sitting behind a desk. I didn’t usually spend this much time thinking about my clothes or what to wear. But the prospect of seeing Bonnie Calhoun again had changed everything. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was a little bit excited.
Before yesterday, it had to have been at least five or six years since I’d last seen her. Just the sight of her, after all this time, had knocked the breath out of me, and I hadn’t been able to stop myself from walking into her apartment. She’d worn a silk robe, but I could picture that body underneath. Those perfect breasts, those long silky smooth legs, her shining blond hair still damp. She must have just come out of the shower. She’d looked delicious, ready to be eaten. I’d always been attracted to those flared nostrils and that spark in her eye when she got mad. And Bonnie was always mad. Short tempered. A great believer in sticking to her rigid beliefs.
In college, she hadn’t approved of my lifestyle, my fraternity ways. And I always got the feeling that she judged me for my family money. Even though I didn’t care about it back then. Maybe I still didn’t. But she always looked at me, down her long sharp nose like she thought she was better than me. That somehow, I belonged outside her moral compass, that she was too good a person to be associated with me.
I smiled as I pulled out a navy tie with aquamarine stripes. Those would match her eyes.
I still couldn’t get the image of her in that robe out of my head. And was she turned on? She had to be, given the state of her nipples. I’d always known she wanted me. With most girls, it was easy for me to tell that they wanted me inside them, that they wanted me to give them toe-curling orgasms. But Bonnie always held back. She judged me too hard and probably convinced herself that I wasn’t worth her time. Because we were so different and we came from such different places.
But that didn’t mean that her body could resist me. I could always tell that her muscles stiffened and her cheeks flushed when she was around me. An internal struggle to deny the physical attraction she was obviously feeling.
I picked out the textured cufflinks for the day from their velvet box and snapped them on my shirt cuffs. Honestly, I couldn’t wait to see her.
She had kicked me out of her apartment as though I had done something horrendously wrong. But I still wanted to see her again. See those blue eyes shoot daggers at me, her perfect white teeth biting those luscious pink lips. I wanted her to acknowledge that I had won in the long run. I was buying her company.
A nerve twitched on the side of my eye as I started buttoning my shirt. In any other case, this victory would have been sweeter. Our company was successfully acquiring a threat. A small business threat, but a threat nonetheless. Father was proud of me. I was doing my job right. But it was Bonnie Calhoun. I was doing this to a friend. To her, of all people.
Granted, she was quick tempered and always pissed at me. But I had noticed the fiery dismay in her eyes. This was really affecting her. I had seen what the company meant to her. How disappointed she was because she had failed on her own.
I sighed and looked at myself in the mirror. Tailored black pants, ivory white shirt in broadcloth, perfect navy blue tie, cufflinks, Rolex on my wrist. I was as good as ready for the meeting.
“Sir?” I was still thinking about the look in Bonnie’s eyes, when a different female voice interrupted my thoughts. I saw Sera’s reflection behind me in the mirror. Sera, in her professional-sleek bun, her tight skirt suit, her razor-sharp nose.
“Get Leo to bring the car around,” I said, tucking my shirt into my pants.
“Of course. And a woman called, four times actually since this morning. You were in the gym.” She was leaning slightly into the closet, her hand gripping the doorframe.
“A woman? Bonnie Calhoun?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. That was very unlike her, but she might be desperate now.
Sera shook her head and smiled at me through the mirror. She had been my secretary for no more than seven months, ever since I took over. But I knew he
r well enough by now to know that she had something interesting to tell me. Her lips curled in a way that told me that she was trying to suppress an even wider smile.
“Marjorie. Marjorie Otis,” she said flatly, waiting for my reaction.
I had to think for a second, before my eyebrows rose in recognition of that name. The woman I’d banged last Saturday. I had made the mistake of bringing her back to my place. I had a strict policy of fucking women anywhere but at my own home. It was always difficult to get rid of them in the morning otherwise. And that turned out to be true in Marjorie’s case. She refused to get out of bed, demanded breakfast, I had to skip the gym and was late to work. She didn’t believe me when I insisted that I worked on Sundays.
“What did she want?” I asked, smoothing the front of my shirt.
Sera’s smile widened, and she stepped fully into the closet, closer to me. “She wants to speak to you, but I told her you’re busy, of course,” she said in a whisper. I couldn’t help but laugh. There was nobody else around us; there was no need to whisper!
“Thank you, Sera. You’re a star. Keep that going until she stops calling,” I said, stepping away from her to make my way to the shoes.
I thought she had left, but I felt her lingering presence behind me.
“Do you need help? With picking the shoes, I mean, sir,” she asked, as I bent down to pull out a shiny pair of black Oxfords.
“No, thank you, Sera. Just get Leo to bring the car around. That’s all,” I said, sitting down on the ottoman to put my shoes on.
“Of course. I’ll see to it right now,” she said and turned on her heels to walk away.
I caught a brief glance of her swaying ass in the tight pencil skirt, but I was quick to look away. As efficient and attractive as Sera was, she was my secretary. That was another policy I wasn’t about to break. Moreover, I had more pressing matters at the moment. Bonnie Calhoun and her long legs.