“You did quite a bit of work remotely?” Roland asks and I want to tell him to mind his own business.
“Yes. Absolutely.” I hate to inquire about Danielson like I might be interested in him, but it’ll do to get the spotlight off me. “So, Danielson, what do you do?”
“Oh, it’s boring really. I’m the chief technology officer of a Fortune 500 company.”
Another tech guy. I really only care about one. But I smile and play the conversation game. “Technology changes so rapidly that I’m sure there’s never a boring moment.”
“For me, no. It’s when I tell other people what I do that I see boredom set in until they regret ever asking me about my job.”
My laughter is a surprise and feels good, until I see how Roland beams and looks between us. I cut a glance at Diana, but her fond gaze is on Danielson. Does Roland seriously think that I’m open to being romanced by his son—if his son is even interested?
The server comes to take our order. Diana chats with Roland about his upcoming work trip, and she intervenes with a new question every time Roland attempts to begin a conversation between me and Danielson.
I take a bite of starter salad, but it only reminds me of Jacobi. He’s probably having one of Chef Big Boy’s mixed greens salads with jerk chicken. There’s nothing processed in the restaurant, but I order a main meal that’s fried and greasy just so I won’t sit and think about what Jacobi is eating. I doubt it’ll work.
I miss my lunches with him. I miss him worse than when I came back from Cabo. That makes sense. We were together twice as long as we were on vacation. But what a difference those two extra weeks made.
I pick at my breaded—what did I order again?
A flash makes me look out the window. People are walking up and down the street, minding their own business. Tingles run along my back. Is someone watching us?
A car door shuts, the sun catching the mirror. I’m only paranoid. This is my first non-work outing since the breakup, but there’s no reason someone would want a photo of me. I’m with Diana. It’s not like I double date with her, no matter what Roland thinks.
Once Diana sees I’m done, she smiles. “Thank you so much for lunch, Roland. London and I should be getting back.”
I thank them both and walk out with Diana, purposely not lingering for any goodbyes.
We hit the street and Diana whispers, “Was it me or did that feel weird?”
Oh, good. She’s as clueless as me. “You mean Roland trying to play Tinder with his grown son?”
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what he’s thinking. I told him—” Her lips snap shut.
“Told him what?”
“I told him you ended up caring for Jacobi and the breakup is hard.”
Great. Roland basically knows the whole story. Did he pass it on to Danielson? “Are you two getting close?”
She shrugs. “Somewhat. I feel like we moved onto the next phase when you weren’t talking to me.”
For all of a week?
She shoots me a stern glare like she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “I had no one to talk to, London. You’re my world.”
I grasp her hand. “I’m sorry.”
And it was all for fucking nothing.
As the automatic door opens to my building, prickles burst across my back. I scan the sidewalk, but nothing stands out.
Diana stops. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I look forward to the day that my time with Jacobi doesn’t haunt me.
Chapter 16
Jacobi
I’m actually getting work done. The shock of seeing Sully infused me with renewed focus. Kase and I scoured our company, but since that first round of tampering when I was in Mexico, it’s been left alone. Part of the reason for the renewed verve is the impending migraine. I have to finish for the day before I’m seeing stars and incapacitated.
I’m wrapping up business with the security contract that I’ve ignored all week. Fingers flying over the keyboard, I’m only half invested in what I’m doing. The contract itself is easy enough. They installed all my programs correctly, I just have to run some tests.
The rest of my mind is occupied on whether my ex-wife has anything to worry about or not.
I hate that I divorced her. Yet, I can’t argue that it was for the best. If I want something real with London then it can’t begin with lies and betrayal. But if she’s not in danger because of me then there’s a chance I can win her back—and still every reason I shouldn’t.
My phone dings. Absently, I glance over. My fingers freeze, the program forgotten.
An unidentified number.
Summoning all my self-discipline, I take a half-hour to finish my work. Whoever is behind this isn’t going to ruin my work any more than they already have.
Finally, I reach over, my gut clenching as tight as my jaw. I pull up the message. There are two pictures. My hand fists over the phone. Red stains my vision.
It’s a picture of London. She’s smiling. She’s fucking gorgeous.
But her smile is directed at someone and that someone is in the second picture, a young, preppie asshole sitting across the table from her. My blood pressure hits my temples and a drum beats between my ears. I have to concentrate.
Who the fuck wants me to think that London has moved on with this prick?
She hasn’t.
She can’t. It’s only been a month. She liked me.
But that smile.
Studying the rest of the picture, I recognize the setting. I’ve lurked around her office building enough and eaten in that restaurant before. It’s too expensive for the amount of food you get and it’s not a place I think London would like. There are other people at the table. Diana? Or could she be out with Penni and Holland? Would any of them try to get her back in the dating scene so soon?
My gaze roams over her face like a desperate man in need of a fix. Each day we’ve been apart feels like a month.
I go back to study the man. His greedy gaze is eating London up. As if he would know what a treasure she is. I don’t recognize him but his stiff posture and manicured appearance screams money and sophistication. Since that’s everyone in London’s world, it doesn’t narrow the options for me.
Was this lunch or dinner?
My head closes in on me. I don’t have much longer before I’m bedridden. If I keep working, I’ll be hung up longer. But I have to check on London. Someone’s still following her. And they’re sending me photos to what? Drive home that I’m divorced and have no claim on her? Make me react impulsively and…? I have no idea, but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s in the middle of something no one will see coming.
I dial both Cannon and Kase.
Cannon answers. “Whoa. A conference call. I feel special.”
Kase picks up. “What?” He’s probably in the middle of a blow job from Lucia. It’s their number one way to make up after an argument, and since they’re always arguing…
“I got another picture. I’m checking on Natural Glow and London’s accounts. But I’m fighting a migraine.”
“Cool,” Cannon says. “Forward them. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
I don’t like another dude trailing London, but I’ll be in no shape to do it for at least twenty-four hours, maybe a few days.
Kase lets out a grunt. Yep. He’s getting a hummer. “I’ll figure out who—Ugn. Gotta go, man. Send me the info.” He clicks off.
“I wish I got head as much as that guy,” Cannon mutters.
“Not if it comes with Lucia. Take care of yourself and don’t worry about her. I owe you.”
He snorts. “Yeah, you do.”
I press my luck for several more minutes and skate around as much of London’s online business as I can. Her bank account shows normal activity. Using the same systems I use for my consulting gig, I test Natural Glow’s cybersecurity. The firm she went with to do the job is proficient. Firewalls are in place and antivirus software is top-notch. Unfortunately, the guy the tech
department manager fired a couple years ago liked to open porn links at work. One of them was a dummy link I sent just to him. It was all the in I needed. I set up the special program I created just for Natural Glow to run through the company. Fighting the vise between my ears, the data gets bleary.
What the…
Sitting forward, I wince at the pain the move causes me.
The special program Natural Glow uses to track policies, procedures, and more importantly, trade formulas and packaging information was accessed by a VPN not related to the company. Nor does it match any of the cybersecurity companies. Unless London ordered a test of her security, there’s no good reason for it.
Fuck.
I press my finger to my head. My vision is going too wonky to concentrate. Fuck.
I can’t look into it anymore, but there’s definitely someone targeting the company. As the owner, that means London is in his sights.
* * *
London
I glower at the concrete wall in front of me. Do I tell her?
I’m sitting in my underground penthouse parking spot. Before I left work, I got an email from Danielson. He mentioned how nice it was to finally put a face to the name—as if he couldn’t Google me—and offered his IT support, should Natural Glow need it.
He’s not getting into my company or my pants. And it was tacky of his father to think so when I’ve only been divorced a month. It’s as long as I was married, but still.
I don’t want to go inside for another night of streaming a sappy romance where everyone ends up happily ever after. I should be glad none of them have sex scenes or I’d be watching reruns of true crime shows instead and be too terrified to cross the street alone. Still, that’d be better than concentrating on how lonely I am or having the reminder that I know what truly great sex is.
It’s worse that none of the heroes in the shows ever start out as Jacobi. There are fake wedding movies, but not forced wedding movies. If I really wanted to torture myself, I’d start finding books like that with smoking hot sex scenes and then I could cry so much I’m useless the next day.
But no. I’m not going to be useless over a guy. Even if that guy is a migraine-suffering entrepreneur who makes us both miserable just for my safety.
Asshole.
I puff a lock of hair out of my face and grab my purse and the bag of groceries. I bought yogurt, but it’s hard to stomach after Chef Big Boy’s homemade yogurt with raspberry compote and lemon zest.
Don’t I sound entitled?
I’ll feel better when I can change out of this stifling skirt and heels. I had a Skype conference with our store in Paris and I prefer to look the part of sophisticated CEO when I talk to them. They had a fabulous opening, hinted that I should’ve been there, and we discussed the upcoming year.
I should’ve gone. I couldn’t have predicted the circumstances, but it feels too much like I missed it for a man.
I lock my car and take the elevator to my penthouse. The doors open.
My place is dark. Did I forget to crack the shades open this morning?
I drop my items on the island counter and flip on the lights. The yogurt gets put away and I peer inside the fridge, hoping something magically delicious shows up on the shelves. I should’ve picked something up.
Breakfast for dinner then. I grab a yogurt and turn around, butt-checking the door shut.
My gaze lifts to look out the window, but lands on a dark figure sitting on the couch, his elbows on his long legs.
A scream rips from my throat and the container flies out of my hand. It lands with a splat, but I don’t bother to look at the mess. I drink in the sight of Jacobi, perched on my couch, his dark gaze watching me.
Pressing a hand to my heart, I try to calm it before it beats out of my chest. But looking at him makes it slam harder against my ribs.
I know it’s been all of a month, but he looks better than ever. He’s wearing slacks and a Henley. A little warm for this time of year, but less likely than basketball shorts to make residents in the building call security.
“Couldn’t you call instead of making my heart stop?” I stay where I am, afraid to move, afraid he’ll disappear and I’ll have to confess to Diana that the mourning of my marriage is beyond healthy.
“It’s best if we limit electronic communication.”
That sounds ominous. “How did you get in?” I can guess, but I want to hear him say it. I want to hear that he went through the effort.
“I have my ways.”
Close enough. “How many others have your ways? That’s what worries me.”
“That worries me, too.”
My fear infuses my veins in a steady stream. “Is someone following me? Because I’ve been feeling like—”
He rises in one smooth motion, his face a thundercloud. “You feel like you’re being followed?” He stalks toward me and logically, I know his anger isn’t directed toward me, but he’s a whole lotta intensity coming my way.
“Well, there was this time at lunch last week.” I swallow hard. He’s in front of me and I haven’t moved. My heels are still on, but he towers over me and I just want to lean into him, lose myself in his fresh scent. “And then again when Diana and I went to run some errands.”
“What kind of errands?” His voice is soft, reined in. I stop myself from swaying into his orbit.
“We heard of a new beauty product shop being launched by our biggest direct sales competitor. We were checking it out.”
When he moves, it isn’t to curve me into his body. He gets his phone out and pulls up a picture. “Who’s this?”
I flinch at the whip-crack of his tone, but my blood washes cold when I see the photo of me and one of Danielson. Someone sent them to Jacobi? I grab the phone. “Sully got this close?”
“Who is this man?” His voice teeters like he’s on the brink of insanity. A thrill shoots through me.
“He’s Roland’s son. Diana invited me for lunch but didn’t realize Roland also invited him.” I don’t know if that fools Jacobi, just like I’m not warm and fuzzy about Roland’s intentions. “Sully? Is he following me?”
“No. That’s the problem. Sully’s an addict that’s a few steps from being found dead in an alley. He’s not behind this.”
“Are you sure?” Sully was an easy answer. If it isn’t him, I don’t care to sit and dwell on the implications.
“As much as we can be.” His eyes darken. “I went to see him.”
That gets me moving, but I don’t put my hands on him. I stand as close as possible without touching him and crane my head back to look up at him. “How did that go?”
“He was passed out and smelled like piss and worse. He was fucking pathetic and it’s no less than he deserves.”
“But it was hard?”
He nods, his gaze stroking over my face, dipping down to the hint of cleavage in my V-neck silk blouse. He lifts a hand like he’s going to stroke my cheek, then drops it again. “It’s you.”
“Me what?” He’s close enough to wrap me in his scent. The products he uses that have echoes of Natural Glow but come straight from his mother’s recipes. Somehow, I treasure his scent more because of it.
“Whoever it is, they’re after you or Natural Glow.”
That knocks me out of my dreamy state. “Whatever for?” I spin away, hands on my hips. The mystery of where the yogurt landed is clear and I don’t have enough attention to spare on the floor and splattered cupboard.
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Is that the only reason?” I snap.
“I want to keep you safe,” he says gruffly.
“You divorced me to keep me safe. You cut off all contact to keep me safe. Now you’re back to keep me safe. Fuck being safe. I want to wake up to you in the morning. I want to get stupid swimming lessons in the stupid ocean. I want to scare horny housekeepers away. I don’t want you to only want me to be safe.”
He crowds closer. “It’s been so fucking hard to stay away.”
“Because there’re still things you don’t know about me.”
“Then tell me.”
A tortured darkness passes through his eyes and is wiped out by heat. “Talking to you isn’t what I want to fucking do,” he growls. And he’s on me.
In less than a heartbeat, I’m pressed to the counter. My skirt rides up as I widen my stance to allow him to get closer to me. Our hands are frantic. He tugs my shirt up, I’m yanking his over his head, but our arms are tangling.
His mouth crushes mine and I don’t care what’s happening with our clothes. As long as his tongue is in my mouth and his erection is pressed against my center. It’ll only take minutes for me to get off.
But then his hand is between us and his fly is open. He hooks his fingers around my underwear and holds them to the side.
He rips his mouth away, his cock poised at my opening, his body shaking from the restraint. “We have to stop. You don’t know the real me. You won’t want me.”
“Shut up and fuck me, Jacobi.”
Chapter 17
Jacobi
She wants me to fuck her. I always give her what she wants and this is no different.
I need this to be good for her. Pressing my palm against her answers my only question. She’s ready. I shove her panties further to the side and thrust in.
We both cry out. There’s no kissing. No tenderness. I fuck her hard. She’s hanging onto my shoulders, her knees hitched up. I pound into her, angling to where I know it’ll drive her the most crazy.
I won’t last long. Not with her willing body on the precipice. She’s made for me. She’s mine.
A few more pumps and we’re both toppling over the edge. She clenches around me, inside and out.
“You’re going to kill me someday, London.” My words have double meaning. She still doesn’t know what I tried to do. I may not have carried through, but in this case, it’s the intent that matters.
Redeemed: Ruined and Redeemed Duet - Book 2 Page 14