To: World’s Greatest Assistant
From: Parker Ellis
Have something for you to check out. Call me.
I click “Send,” lean back in my chair, and close my eyes again for a few minutes before my cell phone rings.
“What’s up?” Wendy says, sounding breathless.
“Where are you?”
The sound of street traffic can be heard in the background. “Told Kidd I needed to take a walk down the street for a coffee run. I’m getting Starbucks, and you’ll never believe what I just walked past. Straight up this awesome, gothic-looking church. Literally walking to get coffee and I’m slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am blown away by this stunning building that looks a million years old!”
I grin at her excitement. At least someone still has some positivity this morning. “It’s the Notre-Dame Basilica.”
“I thought the Notre-Dame was in France, or in Indiana if you’re the Fighting Irish!” She cracks up at her own joke.
“It is. The one you’re seeing is called Notre-Dame Basilica, versus cathedral in Paris. Basilica means church, but in the Catholic religion, it’s a church given special privileges by the pope. The architecture is the Romantic Gothic style you see in a lot of the churches from that era. The coolest feature is the stained-glass windows. If you can take a moment to pop in, you’ll notice that the windows are not biblical; rather, they depict the history of the city of Montreal. It’s really fascinating.”
“Wow, you know a lot about this.”
“Yeah, studied a lot of it in college. Visited with my family too. Oh, and last I heard, they were doing this intense light show where the lighting technicians from Madonna’s concerts created a performance using the inside of the church’s spires, curves, windows, and paintings to create an experience the likes of which you’ll remember forever. Maybe we can all go when the case is closed,” I offer, thinking it would be a good idea to show Wendy a little bit of Montreal’s rich history.
I’ve always loved this city, though I’d love to drive her up to Quebec City and show her Old Quebec, stay in one of the historic hotels, and ride on the ferry to get the best view of the islandlike city.
“Cool. I’m in. So what do you got for me on the case? I’m at Starbucks now.”
Coffee sounds awesome right now, but I can’t have her pick me up anything, or it would cause suspicion. I sigh. “Well, I just had the meet with Eloise.”
“Delightful, isn’t she.” Sarcasm drips off each word.
“About as delightful as my stomach feels right now.”
“Aw, poor baby. You can’t hold your liquor,” she teases.
I scoff, “How the hell are you so chipper? You were round for round with the rest of us.”
She snorts. “Yeah, but there’s a few small differences. In between my drinks, I pounded a glass of water, then sweated my ass off on the dance floor. Plus, I ate my weight in fried food. You just kept drinking.”
Ah. Food. Water. Yeah, that would have been a good idea. Hell, that would be a good idea now.
“Sure was a blast, though,” she continues. “I’ve still got ‘Man in the Mirror’ in my head. They killed that song last night.” Her voice lowers, sounding farther away as she places her Starbucks order.
Once I hear her finish, I respond, “The band was great. Anyway, back to work. Eloise told me that she’s been cleaning up errors in Kidd’s coding. She made it sound like she’s been doing it for a while.”
“Really? Hmm.”
“Yeah, and on top of that, I think they used to date. When I mentioned he was getting married, she flew out of the office like fire licked at her heels. A woman only does that—”
“If she’s in love and it’s unrequited. Shit.” She thanks someone, and then the sounds of the street can be heard in the background as she huffs and puffs as if she’s walking at a brisk pace. Wendy always moves fast. Part of me wonders if it’s because she doesn’t want to miss a single second of life.
“Yeah.”
“But how does that solve our problem? If anything, it builds a bigger case against Kidd.”
I rub at a knot forming in my shoulder. “Yes, it does.”
“You have to tell Alexis. Maybe if she looks into it too, or straight up asks him?”
“You see, that’s the thing. If he did do it, it might have been unintentional. Hence the reason there’s no financial record of a payoff in the system. Maybe someone’s hacking from the outside and all of Kidd’s errors in the coding are making it easy to get in?”
“Maybe. I’ll do a full check of the firewalls and see what I can find.”
“Thanks.”
“You got it, boss man. And I’m loving being undercover! I feel like a Charlie’s angel!”
I laugh. “Signing off, angel.”
“Bye, Charlie!”
A fluid pressure runs the length of my scalp, rubbing and teasing the overly long layers that are curling at the top. Skyler loves running her fingers through my hair. I sigh into the feeling, sleep still clinging to my mind as I hook an arm around her waist and tug her onto my lap.
“Ooh!” She giggles, but it sounds muffled, deeper as her body rests against mine. “Parker . . . ,” she sighs, and I tip her head and take her mouth without opening my eyes. A wall of warmth flattens against my chest. I grin around her lips and run my hands up her back. Sleepily I enjoy the feeling of Skyler being generous as my body slowly comes awake. Of course, “the beast” is first to rise. I thrust my hips up and feel a swaying, rocking sensation. I’m in the office chair, leaned back. Skyler’s mouth lands on mine again, wet and soft. I kiss her with all I have.
God I’ve missed this.
Her succulent mouth on mine, tongue invading deliciously. I grind up against her heat, and she moans. It sounds far away and different. A lower rumble than I’m used to hearing from my girl. I caress my way up her back and note a lot more of her than normal.
Huh?
The bright lights invade my tired eyes and hungover brain as I blink them open. And when I do, I’m beyond shocked at what I see.
Alexis.
In my lap.
Her tongue in my mouth.
Shit! I did this. Pulled her into my lap and kissed her. I wrap my hands around her rib cage and push her back enough so she lets go of my mouth with an audible plop.
“What the fuck!” I shake my head, trying to force the last vestiges of sleep out of my brain. My dick realizes the change in woman immediately, shrinking down to half-mast.
Alexis wraps her arms around my neck. “Your lips are as soft as I thought they’d be.”
I swallow around the taste of her lipstick and coffee on my tongue. Arousal at her body’s proximity hammers through my chest, heading south.
Jesus, what have I gotten myself into? “Alexis. You are beautiful, sexy. Any man would want you . . .”
She grins wide. “Fantastic, because I want you!” She slams her lips against mine, and for a weak moment, I kiss her back, dipping my tongue in, swirling with hers until I’ve got her taste imprinted on my taste buds. She moans and presses her large breasts against my chest. I slide my hand down to her ass and grind against her core. The beast comes back online, standing proud and ready for some guilt-free action.
For several minutes, I kiss the living daylights out of Alexis, pouring all my anger, hatred, and disgust for what Skyler did into my own actions. Taking charge. Controlling my destiny. Kissing the hell out of a beautiful woman I’ve been dancing around all week.
Until reality bursts in like a beacon of light shooting into the sky as Alexis goes for my belt. She gets the belt undone, the button open, and the zipper down. I groan and press up into her movements. Except the second she wraps her hand around my hard length, an arrow of poison shoots straight into my gut. I cry out and push Alexis back and off. Standing up, I quickly button my pants and do up my zipper.
She sits on the table nonchalantly with a sensual smirk and kiss-swollen lips.
I run my hand over my mouth, trying to wi
pe away her taste. It’s going to take a lot more than the back of my hand.
Without realizing it, I start pacing and tugging at my hair.
“Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me!” I growl.
“That’s what I was trying to do before you so rudely interrupted me.” She laughs.
I sigh and turn toward the sexy blonde. “Alexis—”
“If you’re about to say it’s not you, it’s me, I’m afraid I’ll hurl, lover boy. Men don’t turn me down. Not ever. And the steel rod in your pants proves my point.”
My entire body feels weighed down by a wrecking ball, with the need to just fall into bed and sleep . . . for a year. My body is in agony, but the emptiness within my heart is far heavier than anything I could possibly imagine. It’s debilitating, this need for her. For Skyler.
I clear my throat. “Alexis, I’m sorry. When I say I just got out of a relationship, I mean a week ago, I was in love with a woman, seriously committed. Now . . . fuck, I don’t know what I am. What we are. And it’s unfair of me to go there with you when I haven’t settled things with her. Do you understand?”
She closes her eyes and crosses her arms and then her legs over one another where she’s perched on the table. “I guess. Though I’m offering you nothing but a physical release. Two bodies coming together in a heated night of passion. No one has to know . . .”
I groan in misery, running my hand over my clenching stomach. “I’ll know.”
She huffs. “I had you pegged all wrong. For some reason, I suspected that you lived and breathed sex. You exude it, I can feel the physical waves coming off your body. I’m disappointed to hear all that bundled-up heat and energy is wasted on someone you’re brooding over.”
“Doesn’t change the facts. My heart is still with her.”
“Yes, but your body is here, and for a moment it was hard and wanting . . . for me.”
I suck in a long, slow breath, trying to calm the anxiety and nerves bristling all over my skin. “Like I said, you’re a beautiful woman . . .”
“One who could make you forget all about your long-lost love . . . at least until you go back to the States.” She cocks an eyebrow.
I shake my head. “’Fraid not.”
She sighs and smacks her lips. “Pity. I was really hoping for a wild romp with the hot American.”
I chuckle and look up at her, pairing our gazes. “I’m sorry if I made you think I was willing otherwise . . .”
She laughs, and it sounds like music. “Oh, honey, you didn’t lead me on.”
The word honey rolling off her lips makes me wince. The only woman I want to hear that endearment from is Skyler, and I’m suddenly afraid I never will again.
My gut churns, and I swallow slowly, breathing in and out in even, measured breaths, attempting to get my body back in line. I need sleep, water, and food. Not necessarily in that order.
“Guess I’m not used to a man saying no. Sorry I came at you hard.” She grins sexily.
“No, you’re not.”
Her smile is coy as she gets up off the desk. “No. I’m not.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Does it start and end with ‘Never mind; I was wrong. Can you take me home with you?’” She waggles her brows.
I shake my head. “Alexis, why do you do this? Play this game?”
She pauses for a moment before answering. “What game?” She grins, knowing exactly what I’m talking about but not copping to it.
“You don’t have to do this.” I point to her attire and gesture around the room. “Play up your sex appeal, have an unrelenting nature when going after a man.”
Alexis tips her head. “And why the hell wouldn’t I, if it gets me what I want far quicker than my intellect alone? Besides, if I’m the one who makes the rules, I also determine the prize. Sometimes it’s a fantastic roll in the hay with a sexy American; other times, it gets men to see me as an object. Then, while they’re looking at my tits and ass, I’m buying out their company shares, taking over their products ultimately, and setting up a bright future for myself.”
“Alexis . . . game playing is not the answer.” I frown as a wave of self-realization washes over me. In the past, I’d been known to play a game or two.
“Isn’t it? When I always come out the winner? It’s not my fault if men see me as a walking fantasy with no brain cells and just big boobs. It is, however, their fault when they think with their dicks and not with their brains during business negotiations. And frankly, this”—she waves her hands up and down her form—“works every time. I rarely follow through on the fantasy a man sees before him, unless I want that man under me. My choice. My game. I win.”
I gesture between us. “Not this time, sweetheart.”
“Perhaps I’ll have to review the play-by-play and figure out where it all went wrong . . . or maybe there’s still a chance of it going my way?” She cocks an eyebrow.
“Not a chance.” I laugh. “Get out of here! Go find another unsuspecting soul to tarnish.”
She chuckles. “Won’t be hard. Your partner is not exactly sloppy seconds.”
I shake my head and grab my blazer from where I left it folded over the couch.
“Nope, and he would be a willing player in your game. Not only that, he understands the rules because he has the same ones.”
She taps her smudged lips, and my heart sinks, remembering my lips did that. My tongue was in her mouth in my eagerness to get at more of her taste.
“Doesn’t make the game nearly as fun.”
“No, but it makes it honest. Think about that before you move on to your next target. They should know what they’re getting into.”
Her jovial expression falls flat, and she purses her lips.
I slow my roll so that I don’t run into her body as I pass her, heading out of the small space. “Think about it.”
“I will,” she says, and with the weight in her tone, I believe her.
Once I’ve made my way through the back of the building and down the stairs to street level, I wave down a taxi, get in, and rest my tired head all the way back to the hotel, staring out the window at the intricate buildings and architecture. Wendy was not wrong in her excitement about the mixture of old and new in the city. There are buildings crafted out of metal and bright colors right next to those built with stone that look to be a few hundred years old. The combination of the old with the new makes the city uniquely special and pleasing to the eye.
As I gaze out, the city starts to blur and fade while thoughts of Skyler start running a marathon in my mind.
What is she doing right now?
Is she sad?
Does she still miss me?
It’s been days since her last message.
How do I move forward from here?
I get to my room, toss my jacket over the chair, drop my slacks, and pull off my shoes where I stand. Next, I unbutton my dress shirt, pull back the coverlet, slide my boxers-clad body in, and hit the button on the lamp for the lights. I grab the remote sitting on the end table and flick on the TV. The first thing that comes on is an entertainment news program.
Skyler’s face appears on the screen, Tracey standing by her side, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. A microphone is thrust in front of her face. She looks tired. Black circles paint the spaces under her eyes. She smiles her fake everything-is-roses smile for the bloodsucking paparazzi.
“And how is SkyPark doing?” one nosey man asks.
I sit up in my bed and hold my breath, waiting for her answer.
“Fabulously. Parker’s on business right now, but I very much look forward to his return.”
The crowd bum-rushes her with a bunch of questions. She runs her hands through her hair and glances around as the next question flies at her.
“And what is the first thing you’re going to say to Parker when you see him?”
Skyler closes her eyes, and I can feel the pain like an invisible blow to the solar plexus. I rub at my sternum and wait for he
r to respond.
Her eyes open, and they are a brilliant blue. The only color I want to see first thing every morning when I wake up. She locks her gaze right into the camera, and I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d believe she were speaking right to me.
“When I see Parker, I’m going to tell him how very much I’ve missed him, and I love him more than anything on this earth.”
“Miss.”
I miss him.
“Love.”
I love him.
“More.”
I love him more than anything on this earth.
She loves me. Skyler loves me. Skyler loves me, and she admitted it on national television for the entire world to hear and see.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
8
I’m a mess. I didn’t sleep a wink last night after I saw the entertainment piece. I tossed and turned, trying to figure out what to do.
How do I respond to this?
Skyler loves me.
Loves me.
The thrill of her admission rushes through my bloodstream, gifting me with a warm, liquid sensation that seeps deep into my bones, coating my frozen soul. It’s as though I’ve been encased in ice this past week. Lost to the chill of cold hatred and betrayal.
She loves me.
I close my eyes and let the truth in. My woman admitted on national fucking television that she’s in love with me. Energy licks at my heels, and I start to pace the hotel room, not knowing what to do with the extra kinetic energy pumping through me. It’s as though I’m a live wire, all synapses firing a hundred miles an hour with nowhere to go as I wear a hole into the carpet.
The connecting door flies open.
“Oh. My. God. You have to watch this new piece about—” Wendy starts as she rushes in, holding her laptop open and at the ready on the entertainment news station.
I shake my head and hold up my hand, not wanting her to come any closer. “I’ve already seen it. I watched it on television last night.”
Her eyes widen, and the blue of her irises seems even lighter than normal, more like the sun-filled sky right after a heavy rain. “Then you know.” Her voice lowers to a gentler, less excitable timbre. And understanding sizzles within the space between us.
Montreal (International Guy Book 6) Page 9