Tied to His Betrayal

by Stacey Kennedy

  His long exhale tells me it’s a complicated answer. “I got what I needed from them, yes.”

  “Which is the most cryptic answer ever.”

  He laughs. “Yes, it is.”

  Right then, Debbie delivers our dinners to us. Once she finishes up by placing my plate in front of me, she asks, “Can I get you anything else?”

  “No, thanks.” I’m practically drooling on my plate. “This is perfect.”

  When Darius nods at her that she’s doing a good job, Debbie grins and leaves, obviously knowing she’ll get a great tip from him tonight.

  I pick up a french fry and nibble on the end, trying to remember my manners.

  Darius watches me a moment with raised brows then barks a laugh. “Taylor, it’s me. You don’t need your manners.”

  “Thank God,” I gasp, grabbing my burger and taking the biggest bite I can possibly manage. I chew twice. Then, “Holy shit, this is to die for.” I moan, taking another bite. “They didn’t have anything like this in San Diego.”

  “That’s a shame,” he murmurs. “Because I like the way you eat.”

  I stop chewing and look up, finding Darius’s smoldering eyes directly on me. “How do I eat?” I ask, mouth full.

  “With passion,” he says.

  I forcibly swallow the food in my mouth, a flush of heat rushing across me.

  He adds, voice low and rumbly, “It reminds me of when you take something else into your mouth with such intensity.”

  My nipples tighten, desire pooling low in my body, just that easily. “Okay, that’s yummy and hot,” I say, cringing a little. “But so is this burger, so can you keep all that sexiness for later?”

  One brow arches. “You’re picking a burger over me?”

  I take another bite and moan. “But it’s a really good burger.” After another bite, I add, “Besides, blame the person who saved this restaurant from a slow death.”

  He grins. “Done. I’ll ruin him.”

  I lower my burger and grab a fry, dipping it in ketchup. “So, back to your relationships,” I begin.

  “How about we skip that conversation,” he says, picking up his burger. “There is honestly really nothing to talk about.”

  “In your eyes I’m sure that’s very true,” I argue, chewing the end of the fry. “But…”

  “Taylor,” he interjects, voice hard, burger at his mouth. “I’ve taken you to your favorite restaurant and you can barely get a word out between the bites of your burger. Do you really want to be talking about my ex-lovers right now?”

  I glance at the juicy burger dripping grease onto my plate. “No, you’re right, I don’t.” I grab the burger and shove it into my mouth, taking another big bite, and moan against the deliciousness on my tongue. But as I sip on my milkshake, watching Darius eat his burger, I’m only reminded that I need to be careful with him.

  Five years without a single feeling toward a woman.

  If I needed a reminder that Darius hasn’t changed his emotionally unavailable way, I just got it.

  Chapter 9

  Darius

  My Friday morning was bogged down by meetings on new projects. Thankfully, by noon, I return to my office, my mind circling back to Taylor’s gratitude the other day when she visited me here. I’m tense, my cock hardening, as I return to the same chair where she sucked my dick like a damn pro. Those eyes…those lips…I groan, adjusting my rock-hard dick, when I spot Ryder entering my office.

  I jerk my hands up, placing them near my keyboard. One look into Ryder’s tight eyes and my dick softens, just that easily. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “I’ve got an update for you, but first…” He stops in front of me and tosses the tabloid magazine Starstruck onto my desk. “This is good news.” He takes a seat in the wingback chair.

  “It is,” I agree, noting the photo of Alex and me on the cover. Her twinkling eyes and sensual smile could fool anyone into believing we are lovers. “Alex should be an actress.”

  “Not a chance in hell. I’d never let her go.” Ryder tugs at the collar of his black T-shirt with the Blackwood logo, getting comfortable in the chair. “Besides, she can handle the heat the paps are putting on her.”

  “They’ve been following her, I assume.”

  “They’ve got eyes on her at all times.” He crosses an ankle over his knee, his mouth curving. “Truthfully, I think she’s enjoying this a little too much. She’s running them around all over the city.”

  I chuckle, pleased to hear that. “I’m glad she finds this amusing.” Because it keeps Taylor safe, and I’m certainly glad Alex is equipped to handle the paparazzi. “But I’m afraid she’s not taking all the heat off Taylor.” I reach into my desk drawer and grab another magazine. I show Ryder the cover of Gotcha! “I saw this on my way to work this morning.”

  Ryder takes the magazine from me, examining the cover showing me and Taylor and then flipping to the article with the headline: Darius Bennett’s mystery woman is no mystery at all. Our sources tell us she’s, in fact, an ex-flame. And we’ve also learned that she’s now a Bennett employee.

  Ryder sighs heavily, handing me the magazine. “If we had any doubt this was a coincidence, we would know now it’s not.”

  I nod agreement, glancing toward the hallway, seeing Charlotte leave her desk before I address Ryder again. “On Wednesday, I gave them the best story they’ve gotten out of me in years.” My life just isn’t that exciting. “The paps live for very public PDA.” I point to the magazine on my desk. “But this is what the magazine focuses on? It makes absolutely no sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” His expression pinches, eyes squinting in thought. “There’s something we’re missing here…”

  “I know.” I stare at another photo of Taylor and me sitting outside of Allie’s condo. My chin is resting on Taylor’s head, my arm around her, and I like the expression on her face. It’s soft, sweet, and I can tell she’s enjoying being there in my arms. “But on top of that,” I say, lifting my eyes to Ryder, not allowing whimsical thoughts to take me away from what’s most important…keeping Taylor safe. “What troubles me more than the obvious, is they know Taylor is an ex-girlfriend, but they’re not printing her name.”

  Ryder’s brows furrow over his emerald-colored eyes. “It does seem odd that they know that particular detail about the two of you, but haven’t identified her yet.”

  “Precisely.” I lean back in my chair, lacing my hands behind my head. “Which means it’s because they don’t know who she is.”

  Ryder hesitates. Then, “And what are you thinking that means?”

  “I’m beginning to wonder if the person behind this leak is someone who works for me.” I drop my hands and run a hand across my jaw, the stubble scraping against my palm. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “What makes you think that?” Ryder asks.

  I notice Charlotte striding by my office door, taking a seat at her desk before I answer Ryder. “I can think of five people who worked with me back in the day. They’re the only ones who may have seen Taylor come into the office late at night. While I kept our relationship discreet, I also didn’t hide it either.”

  Ryder’s mind is working, foot tapping against the hardwood floor. “While that makes sense, the other stories that have been printed are about Micah and Allie. Do any of your employees even know them?”

  “Not that I know of,” I admit, realizing a flaw in my theory. “But the only people who know about Taylor and Allie are people who have worked for me when I dated Taylor.”

  “Hmm…” Ryder says, tapping his fingers against the armrest twice. “Perhaps all of this is a coincidence, and Micah and Allie’s stories are simply ones where a reporter took a wild guess and ended up being right.” He pauses. Then, “But with yours, it’s actually someone selling these private details to the tabloids?”

  “It’s what I’m thinking, too,” I agree with a nod, stretching out my legs beneath my desk, feeling the tension slide through me. “T
he stories about Micah and Allie were about Allie being forbidden to Micah and my being upset. The truth is, perhaps they knew early on that Allie was my half-sister, but they held back that information to drag out that story line.”

  Ryder hesitates, then nods. “That makes sense. And they could be doing that with Taylor, too?”

  “But what would be the point of that?” I counter. “Especially considering I gave them one hell of a story. Their focus should only be on Alex, not on Taylor.”

  “I agree,” he says, cocking his head. “So, if it’s someone who works here, what could be their motive to sell this information?”

  “Money,” I offer. “Isn’t that usually the motive that feeds the tabloids?”

  “It’s a good place for us to start,” Ryder replies with a frown. “Give me a list of who you suspect could be behind this, and I’ll get a team to start looking into them. I can only imagine that whoever is doing this has some sort of financial trouble that should stand out.”

  Even if I hate the thought of looking into the lives of my employees, I can’t stand someone betraying me. I grab my notepad by my phone and scribble the names down, then hand it to Ryder. “Let’s hope I’m way off here.”

  “Honestly,” says Ryder, folding the paper and shoving it into the pocket of his tan cargo pants. “I can’t see any answer to this question being a good one.”

  “Sadly, I think that’s very true.” My cellphone beeps and I take a quick look, seeing an email from a client before I focus back on Ryder. “Now about that other update?”

  Ryder reaches into his pocket, taking a piece of paper out. “Prepare yourself, you’re not going to be happy.” He hands me the piece of paper.

  I unfold it, and I’m staring at a sketchy photo of a man in his mid-thirties wearing a blue baseball cap. “What about this person will bother me?”

  “That’s Shawn Mason,” Ryder states, “coming through airport security.”

  I jerk my head up, straightening in my seat. “He’s here in San Francisco?”

  Ryder nods. “He landed about an hour ago.”

  So many things cross my mind, it’s hard to center my thoughts. I glance down at Mason’s picture, trying to see what Taylor saw in him. He looks scrawny, like a rat. “What did you make of him?”

  “To be honest, he seems very, very normal,” Ryder answers. “Alex has dug as much as she can and she’s simply finding nothing on him. He comes from a middle-class family, nothing major happened to him in his childhood.”

  “Odd.”

  Ryder nods. “Has Taylor told you nothing?”

  “She won’t talk about it.”

  “Scared?”

  I consider that and then shake my head. “No, I don’t think so.” At least that’s not the feeling I got from her. She seemed pretty clear where it came to Shawn and how she felt about what happened. “But she’s remaining tight-lipped about him, and why that is I don’t know.” Ryder stays silent, clearly knowing there isn’t much we can do unless she tells me more, so I push the conversation along. “Do you know where he is now?”

  “Of course I do.” Ryder’s voice is well amused, as are his eyes. “We followed him to the Twin Peaks Hotel on Market Street. I’ve got a surveillance team on location.”

  “Has he left the hotel at all?”

  “Once to grab some food, but he came right back.” Ryder pauses, watching me intently, clearly assessing my mood. “How would you like this matter handled?”

  I’d like the guy killed. Of course, I keep that thought to myself. “Tail him at all times.”

  “Again, it would be easier for us to tail her,” Ryder offers. “Would she—”

  I snort an unamused laugh. “Taylor won’t be happy to know that I’m still looking into Mason, let alone allowing you to tail her. We’ll have to do this by following him.”

  “All right.” Ryder runs a hand over his buzzed-cut hair, rising from his seat. “But this isn’t something you can keep from her, especially with Mason here. It’s not safe for her.”

  I sigh, knowing the hellish conversation that will be. “Yes, I know, and I’ll make her aware.”

  Ryder reaches into his pocket again then hands me a business card. “You might want to give her this. It’s a contact that I have at the police department. He’s a good, clean cop and will handle her case gently.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him. “You’ll keep me updated?”

  “You know it.” Ryder smiles, offering his hand.

  I return the handshake. Tough men I can deal with. I don’t make things gentle. I lay it out and tell them how I want things to happen and wait for them to accept it. But Taylor isn’t a businessman I’m going up against. She’s emotional and strong, and her reaction to this news crosses my mind.

  That’s when I realize one very true fact: I’m a dead man.

  Taylor

  After a quick lunch date with Allie to catch up, I enter Bennett, Inc.’s elevator and hit 63. My aching feet make me damn glad it’s Friday, and soon I can soak them in a hot bath. When the doors shut, I lean against the back and fire off a quick text to Mom in reply to her earlier text this morning asking me over for dinner on this coming Wednesday: Yes, I’ll be there. Allie will, too. Or so Allie told me during our lunch together. Then I shove my cell back into my purse as the elevator begins to whiz up and smile to myself. Things have been good.

  I’m settling into a routine again and life’s beginning to brighten. My mom’s called a zillion times and although I’ve updated her on a lot of my recent changes I’ve not told her about Darius. Maybe I should let her know we are seeing each other again but I don’t want to get her hopes up. Because really, a lot of what happens between Darius and me has to do with Darius. He’s on my mind as I pass each floor, until the elevator doors open and I see the black wall with the big bold gray letters that read: Bennett, Inc.

  I exit the elevator, taking only one step forward when I nearly slam into a tall figure. “Sorry,” I squeak, jumping back. Then I look up, meeting dark familiar eyes, reminding me who this man is, and my mind recoils.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have good news for you, Darius,” a man with a fancy suit and stylish salt and pepper hair says. “Your father is creating quite the mess for you.”

  I’m sitting next to Allie on the edge of the stairs, totally eavesdropping on a conversation we shouldn’t be listening to. But there’s no way that I’ll leave Allie alone in this house with her half-brother. He’s a stranger to the both of us. I turn to her and whisper, “Who’s that guy with Darius?”

  “It must be his lawyer,” Allie whispers back, keeping her attention on the living room we can see from the stairs. “Darius told me he was dropping by tonight.”

  The lawyer looks fancy. Heck, so does Darius in his tailored suit. Feeling a little out of place, I glance around the foyer below us, spotting boxes belonging to Allie, and some that I’m guessing belong to her half-brother, too.

  When Allie told me that Darius sold his condo in the city and bought a house in the suburbs, she left off the fact that this house looked like it’d been cut right out of House & Home magazine. But, to me, the house feels creepy, like the people who lived here just picked up and left, taking only their clothes and personal belongings with them. Apparently, rich people buy houses completely furnished and impeccably designed.

  “What do you suggest I do now?” Darius asks, strain in his voice.

  His lawyer moves to the bar in the corner of the room, pours himself a scotch and then takes a seat in the chair. “You used the money from your condo and your trust fund to purchase this house, and you have your car that’s already paid for.” He lifts the glass to his mouth and takes a sip. “The funds belonging to your company are also safe, but your father is pulling out as an investor. I don’t need to tell you that you must find new investors immediately or your company will crash.”

  I jerk my head to Allie and whisper, “Seriously? His own father would do that to him?” And especially over Darius
taking in Allie?

  Allie half shrugs. “Yeah, I guess so. I met him only once and he was horrible.”

  God, Darius’s father is the worst human being I’ve ever heard of. No wonder Allie’s mom divorced him, leaving all this wealth behind for a simple life where people love each other. My heart hurts, as I see the way Allie’s hurting, and it’s breaking me apart, just the same.

  We turn again, listening to the conversation happening below us.

  “I’m not sure what to tell you, Darius,” says the lawyer. “To keep your company afloat you need to start right from the beginning. The second your investors hear that your father is pulling out, they’re going to walk, too.”

  “I’m well aware,” is all Darius says, staring out the big bay window.

  The lawyer polishes off his drink and rises, placing the glass on the end table next to him. “What do you want me to do?”

  A minute passes, and even I can feel the tension in that room.

  Then Darius finally speaks again. “Draw up the documents to dissolve my business relationship with my father. I need to act first and hope this leaves me in a better light.”

  The lawyer hesitates. “Are you sure this is the right move? Your father may change his mind.”

  Darius turns away from the window, offering his hand. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  Once they shake on it, Darius leads the lawyer to the front door and they say their goodbyes. I’m staring at Darius’s back, and even though I don’t know this guy, I read the exhaustion and the strain in his posture. And it all just really sucks. Because this guy is trying to do the right thing by being Allie’s guardian without ever having met her before, and the world seems to be punishing him instead of rewarding him.

  Sometimes I just don’t get life. Why did Allie’s parents have to die? Why couldn’t she stay with me and my family? Why was there so much pain? Why did Darius’s father keep Darius from his mother? Why did that same father not tell his son about Allie so they could meet?

  My head and heart hurt.

  Darius shuts the door and locks it. “Don’t you know it’s rude to listen in on conversations that don’t concern you.”