by Maisey Yates
He leveled his gaze with hers, sending a spark down to her toes. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
Yes, of course he would. Because he was Austin Treffen, and hadn’t he taken care of everything already? Her job. Her apartment. Her virginity.
Yeah, he was good at taking care of things.
But she wouldn’t leave everything up to him.
He could manage the wardrobe for the event, but she would be the one making sure that they didn’t lose sight of their goal.
Jason’s blood might be in him, but Sarah’s was in her. And that meant she would be the one, in the end, who would make sure it was avenged.
Chapter Seven
“It’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
He damn well did. He hadn’t anticipated her looking quite that good in the gown. But he’d seen it in the window on his way to work and he’d known that she had to have it.
Katy had, after all, demanded something fabulous. Something to match his custom suits. And just any dress wouldn’t do.
Austin had passed a little bit of time, more than he wanted to admit, looking at dresses online. The current trend of frothy and sparkling for the holiday season just wasn’t suited to a woman like Katy.
A woman who could twist the most tragic moment into a snarky comment. A woman who had a backbone of steel and a razor-sharp tongue.
He thought if he put her in a frothy skirt it might wither and die on her body.
And that was when he’d seen the black dress in the window. Fitted to the mannequin. With bands of satin and sheer mesh in strategic places over the bodice, all dark so that the hints of skin would be subtle.
At least, that had been his thought.
On her, though, the subtlety was lost. Or maybe it was only lost for him.
He could see, very clearly, where heavy satin gave way to chiffon and showed the pale loveliness of her skin. Then there was the shape of it.
The mannequin had possessed the simple, androgynous shape so well loved by the fashion industry. But God had not embraced that shape when He’d made Katy.
She was an homage to the female form from the days when a lush shape had been a thing to celebrate. All rounded curves, from her breasts to a slow indent of the waist, and another sharp curve for her hips. Hips that he knew were perfectly shaped to fit his hands...
The dress followed the line of her shape, tapering in at her knees before flaring out and falling in soft folds to the ground. As she walked toward him, it made a soft, whispering sound that reminded him of quiet breaths in a dark hotel room.
Her hair was loose, in dark, glossy waves around her shoulders, her eyes outlined in black with hints of gold in the corners, making the blue in them stand out even more.
And her lips were red. Like candy. Just begging to have the sweet sucked off of them.
“It’s perfect,” he said, extending his arm and ignoring the burn when the heat from her body connected with his as he slipped his arm around her waist and drew her close.
“I feel like I’m on display,” she said, kicking the skirt to one side as she walked with him out of his penthouse and into the hall.
“Well, you are,” he said, letting his eyes drift down to her breasts, which were on spectacular display, speaking of displays.
“I feel as though I should have a tiara.”
“We can swing by the tiara store on our way there.”
“Oh, well, I don’t want to hold things up. It seems a little bit precious.”
He pushed the button for the elevator and waited, his arm around her waist, the feel of her under his palm a slow burn. A good burn.
“A little bit, maybe. But then, perhaps being precious isn’t a bad thing. You are playing mistress to a billionaire.”
“Shut the front door,” she said, leaning against the back of the elevator and pulling out of his grasp. “You are not a billionaire.”
“I am, I’m afraid.”
“How? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you’re a kick-ass lawyer, but seriously, where did the money come from?”
“Investments,” he said, flashing her a smile he didn’t feel. “Kick-started by my father, naturally, because...”
“Well, because he has money. It seems fair that you should get a head start with it. I mean, maybe fair is the wrong word, but unsurprising. I inherited my parents’ poverty. Seems about right that you’d inherit your parents’ wealth.”
“I multiplied it,” he said.
“That’s the problem,” she said drily. “Damn multiplication. You know what happens when you multiply by zero, I assume? Yeah. Math has always been out to get me.”
“You don’t have nothing,” he said, his stomach tightening. “You seem to have done well for yourself.”
“I’ve done okay.”
“Your brother is in school?”
“On a football scholarship. He worries me a little bit. I mean, because he’s so lucky to have it and if he screws it up... It gives me heartburn.”
“I can imagine.”
“There are no safety nets when you’re in our position. Which I think is a really terrible metaphor, all things considered. But that’s the fact. There is nothing to catch you if you fall. Not when you’re alone like we are. Not when there are no stacks of dollars waiting to catch you.”
“Let’s hope that wads of cash don’t cushion my dad’s fall, huh?”
A small smile curved the edge of her lips. “Yeah. I really do hope so.”
* * *
The party was perfect. And it should have been since Katy planned it. She had loved the job. She knew a lot of people would find something like that frivolous. But Katy loved it. The attention to detail it required. The organization.
There were binders dedicated to food. One for decor. Another with contacts for various bands and orchestras that were available to play for different events.
There was control and order available for every area of a party. And all Katy had to do was make sure it was planned, so that it went off without a hitch. She was good at that. Because the budget was all set, and she had the tools she needed to pull it off. It was nothing like trying to play the bills game she was used to playing.
Pay the bill you had to pay, put the other one off until they were threatening to shut off your power. Then pay that. Don’t pay the car payment until they’re threatening to take it. Rinse, repeat.
No, planning high-profile events was nothing like that. It gave her a neat and orderlygasm. And she missed it.
Especially standing there on Austin’s arm like a piece of bling. There was no control in that at all. No way to control the fact that everyone was looking at her, making judgments and speculations. Whispering behind their hands about who the woman with Austin Treffen was.
No, she didn’t like that feeling at all.
Though, it wasn’t half as bad as the way having his arm around her waist made her feel. Because that was a whole new level of out of control. It made her shake. Not just a little tremble in her fingers, but a bone-deep tremor that started inside of her and radiated out.
Like an earthquake was moving in her. She knew exactly where the fault line was, too.
Her wretched, unruly lady parts. Oh, she was not happy with them at all.
If not for them, she could keep her head in the game. If not for them, Austin’s nearness wouldn’t send her into a spiral of lust and need. Of hot memories and hotter desires.
But she had them. And they had woken from their slumber. And now they would not settle down.
He leaned in, his lips brushing her neck, just beneath her ear. “Look, my father is charming the masses,” he said.
She looked up and saw Jason, laughing, with a large group of people around him. Austin’s mother was on his arm, a pristinely put-together blonde with a slender figure and expertly applied makeup that verged on the line between full coverage and a full-on mask.
“He’s good at that. But I suppose if the devil looked like the devil...”
“No one would listen to him.”
“Exactly,” she said. “Do we have to go talk to him?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “We don’t have to.”
“But should you? I mean, reconciliation yada yada.”
He let out a slow breath. “I suppose. We used to talk all the time. But then, he used to be my role model, so things change.”
“I guess they do.”
“But I won’t ask you to do something you find too difficult.”
“I’m not afraid of him,” she said. “In my head he became a monster. But then I met him, and I realized he’s just a man. It’s the power given to him by other men that makes him dangerous. And it can be taken. So whatever we have to do to see that happen? We’ll do.”
“Very true,” he said.
“This little happy family chat won’t take long, will it?” she asked.
“It’s best that it doesn’t. Since I don’t know if there’s enough booze at the bar to make it bearable. Why?”
She looked across the room, at the double doors that led to the corridor. That led to Jason’s office. “I have a plan.”
He quirked a brow. “Should I be afraid?”
She lifted her own brow in response. “No. Yes. Maybe. Let’s find out.”
“Fair enough.” He started to guide her toward the knot of people that were surrounding Jason Treffen. Her heart began to pound, hard and loud in her ears, her shoulders knotting with tension.
Being near him...it was like being in the presence of evil. He was a chameleon. A man who could make himself as good or as bad as he wanted to appear to be. But she was far too aware of the artifice of the good to fall for any of it.
Some people only saw the shiny red apple. She knew there were maggots inside. And that meant no matter how enticing it looked, she would never be tempted to take a bite.
“Great party,” Austin said, the crowd parting in a wave for him, as though he gave off some sort of magical power beam that warned everyone of his importance.
“Thank you,” Jason said, a half smile curving his lips. “Very kind of you to grace us with your presence. The second Treffen event in a row. Unusual.”
“As I said, I’m interested in bringing the family closer together again.”
“Good of you to say, Austin.” This came from Lenore, and she could feel Austin tensing up beside her at his mother’s words. Because, of course, he was planning on proving those words a lie very, very soon.
“It’s been too long,” Austin said. Katy could hear the layering to those words, and it resonated in her. Yes. It had been too long. Too damn long that Jason Treffen had been allowed to go on with his life.
“You’re the event planner,” Jason said, his eyes, far too sharp, far too interested, landing on her, looking her over. It felt like a slug crawling over her skin, leaving a visible trail behind.
“I was, rather,” she said.
“No hard feelings, I hope,” he said.
“None at all,” she said.
“How could she have any?” Austin asked, shifting his stance, his fingertips drifting across her arm. “If she were still working on these events, she couldn’t be here as my date. And that’s important to both of us,” he said, his eyes on her. Intense. Sensual. Far too believable for her liking.
“You’re...together?” his father asked, one eyebrow raised. He was still looking too intently at her.
“Yes. And can you blame me? I’m afraid I was responsible for her absence at the last event. She didn’t feel at liberty to say. But she’s left the company now, so it’s not a problem.”
He’d skimmed through all that easily.
“Interesting,” Jason said, taking a sip of champagne.
“Wonderful,” Austin said, tightening his hold on her. “I’ve never met a woman like her.” He turned his focus back to Lenore. “Mother? Are you and Addison free for lunch sometime this week?”
“Yes, dear, I’m certain we are. You haven’t been out to the house in ages. Perhaps...?”
“Of course.”
“And bring your friend...”
“Katy,” Katy said, offering her hand to the older woman. “My name is Katy.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said, smiling, the expression curving her lips but not making a dent in her makeup.
“Very much.”
Katy felt a twinge of guilt lying to the woman whose life they were about to upend.
But she didn’t have a moment for guilt. She had to have guts now. Guts and glory and all of that crap.
She looked Jason Treffen right in his snake eyes. “I’m going to have to steal your son away now. I have plans for him. It’s our first Christmas Eve together and I intend for it to be...special.”
She’d never had a special Christmas Eve in her life, but if she did...well, there was no doubt it would include Austin wrapped up with a bow.
Unfortunately for her hormones, that was not on the docket for the evening. But Jason didn’t need to know that.
Jason’s answering smirk made her skin crawl.
Gah.
She wouldn’t let him see how it unnerved her. Wouldn’t let him see her sweat. He’d broken her sister. He would never, ever break her. Austin took his cue from her, and acted like any man might do when promised a naughty Christmas Eve. He tightened his hold on her and nodded at his parents, steering her away from them.
“What are we doing?” he asked.
She sucked a breath in through her nose, eyes on those double doors. “I’m about to take you home and screw you senseless, baby,” she said.
“What?” he asked.
Her face burned, but she kept her eyes on the prize, on the doors, held on to him tight and dragged him along with her like she was about to do just that—throw him down and have her way with him.
“You heard me,” she said, weaving through the crowd.
“I heard you,” he said. “But I don’t believe it.”
“I have ulterior motives,” she said. “Surprise, surprise.”
He shifted their stance and wrapped his arm around her waist, his fingers resting just above her ass. She tensed. She couldn’t help it. Because his touch was like fire, burning her, turning her insides into molten liquid.
It made her dress feel too heavy, too itchy, too thick. Made her want to strip it off and press herself against him...
“Don’t react like that to me,” he said quietly. “Not in public. You’ll spoil the show.”
He thought he made her nervous, but that wasn’t it at all. Still, he was right. This was all about the show.
She wasn’t taking him home to do it with him. This was all for the people, and that meant allowing herself to melt into him, not fighting it.
Her heart started thundering hard, and part of her wished that sex was all they were leaving for. Not because she wanted him, but because more breaking and entering chez Treffen was nerve-racking in a serious way.
She really didn’t want Austin.
No, she didn’t.
She had more self-preservation than that.
“What are we actually doing?” he asked as they exited the ballroom.
“We’re digging for evidence, of course,” she said, craning her neck to get a look down the hall.
“More?”
“Yes, more. If there’s an iceberg tip, the rest of that bitch has to be around somewhere. And your father is a fan of pictures.”
“Yes, that’s true,” he said, his tone grim.
“I also know he has a safe in his office. I put in a call to Stephanie earlier, so I have keys. Or rather, they’re waiting for us, under her weird daisy-ladybug-clock thing. Her preferred location for covert exchanges. Weirdly.”
“Yes, I know about that safe.”
“Well, I think we need to get into it, don’t you?”
“It’s not a bad idea. Though, you seem to have a fondness for breaking and entering, it has to be said.”
“Better than a fondnes
s for whoring out women, I say.”
“Touché.” He approached the reception desk and skimmed his hand for a moment before lifting the little clock shaped like a flowerpot, with electronic daisies in the top that ticked from side to side, ladybugs nestled in the stems. “Funny,” he whispered, pulling the key from beneath it. “How this is in here, on her desk. Like this is some friendly fun place to work.” He set it back down and straightened. “What a load of crap.”
Katy had to take short fast steps thanks to her dress and heels, and thanks to Austin’s long legs, which ate up ground at a much quicker pace than hers could.
They paused at the door and she took a deep breath. “I think this is where it will all be,” she said. “All the evidence.”
“I doubt it,” he said. “We’re more likely to get shot with poison darts.”
He opened the door and they slipped inside, closing the door behind them. “This is all so cloak-and-dagger,” he said.
“Yeah, I feel a little like I’m trapped inside a Murder, She Wrote episode.”
“Let’s hope we avoid murder,” he said, crossing the room and going to the bookshelf. “Ready to feel even more like you’re on TV?” he asked.
“Oh, sure. Okay, how do we do this thing? Do you know? Don’t tell me—you crank the arm on a statue and a false wall falls away.”
“Not so dramatic.” He went to the middle of a bookshelf and started counting shelves, then put his hand on an upper one, in the center, and pulled out six books, which weren’t books at all. “Just fake literature.”
The books were hollow, and fitted around a safe, set back into the wall.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Your father really is a comic-book villain.”
“That’s why the potential for poison darts seems a legitimate concern.”
“How do you know about all this?”
“From back when I was heir to this evil empire,” he said.
“So...the combination,” she said. “A birth date. His birth date? I know it. A...social security number? That I don’t know. Random? Maybe we can tell by which numbers are most worn?”
“You’re prepared,” he said drily.
“I’m acting. I’m getting it done, and I’ll do it however I can.”
“Fair enough.”