No More Masquerade

by Angel Payne

  “Yeah, yeah.” I also couldn’t prevent a grin from breaking through. “Flattery will get you nowhere, wing man.”

  “Oh, yeah? Hop on my wing and we’ll see.”

  “Choad bucket.”

  “Nut squeezer.”

  We weathered Claire’s disgusted eye rolls with barely suppressed snickers. The only thing missing from the moment was Drake, who’d undoubtedly have a few golden nuggets of derision to add, former US Marine style.

  The next moment, my wish was granted. And my worst nightmare realized.

  The elevator doors opened, revealing a smiling Drake on the welcome landing. Behind him, lining the path to the main conference room, was every member of the Stone Global Board of Directors.

  “Holy shit,” Claire rasped.

  “Can I double down on that?” I added.

  “Stow your tomahawk, Tonto,” Drake asserted. “They all come in peace.”

  “Tomahawk?” Claire volleyed. “Oh, he’s moved on from that. Way on. A few boys back home can attest to that one.”

  I quirked a brow at the look Drake threw to me in question. “It’s a pretty piece of heat. Blaser F3. Gold inlays on the sights. Custom-carved stock. Hand-engraved barrel base.”

  He threw up a hand. “Okay, okay. You trying to give me a hard-on here? Now?”

  I smirked. “Why not?”

  Drake snorted. “If this show wasn’t so much about getting your ass back here, I’d tackle it here and now.”

  It took a full ten seconds, maybe twenty, for his words to throw me back like a ton of bricks. “Excuse the fuck out of me?”

  I knew I’d heard him right by the tremble of Claire’s fingers against mine. I instantly squeezed them, becoming her calm in the storm for once. Don’t worry, baby. This place, even all these people, have no sway over me anymore.

  “Great.” Fletch spat it, moving forward to fling the full force of his glare at Drake. “Way to jump the cow over the moon, shit nozzle.”

  “Like he couldn’t figure it out on his own?” Drake retorted.

  “Figure what out?” I stammered—though his bricks seemed to have been a good thing. They jarred me into noticing a crap load of details about this whole situation, besides the fact that the lobby wasn’t the only place in the building that had received a makeover in corporate creepy. The after-hours meeting time. The entire board of directors present. The way they all stood as I approached.

  And no sign of Trey anywhere.

  The observations should have had me turning every other step into a strut by now. The outcast prince, returning to the kingdom in ruins under the rule of his evil brother…

  But I didn’t feel like gloating. I didn’t even feel like ranting.

  I felt like grieving.

  In spite of everything, I couldn’t call Trey a monster. He was just a loser, supersize on the order. An idiot numb nuts who’d never grasped that losing was often the best way of learning how to win, and kindness wasn’t something you showed a whore when her jaw was sore. It wasn’t like anyone had taken the time to teach him. He’d been tolerated by Josiah. And loved, though fearfully, by Willa. Then betrayed by his own body, letting its sterile state define how he looked at the whole world—enough that he’d sure as hell burned all his bridges with me.

  “Figure what out?” Drake echoed, popping both brows up then looking to Fletch. “Damn. Maybe he has been baking in the sun too long.”

  “The sun’s actually a good thing, Newland.” I flicked two fingers back against his chest as I passed him on my way in to the boardroom. “You should try it sometime.”

  Drake growled. “Already had the Afghanistan tan, thank you very much.”

  I dipped my lips to Claire’s ear. “He needs to be invited out for a visit. We can take him to the house of mouse and loosen him up with a pair of plastic ears. Then I’ll teach him how to surf.”

  “Deal.” She whispered the word but I heard every thankful note embedded in it. She’d needed that little piece of reconnection—and the truth be known, I needed it too. God only knew what was in store for us now.

  By the time Fletcher waved us into the boardroom with the flourish of a maître d’, the energy in the room had intensified. Well, as intense as a room full of corporate notables would allow themselves to be.

  “Killian.” It didn’t surprise me when the daisy-bright greeting came accompanied by the woman I’d called Mother since the age of five, emerging from the sea of faces with a walk to match her impeccable Chanel suit. “Darling, I’m so glad you came.” She clasped one hand around mine then extended the other to Claire. “And look! Your beautiful fiancée is here, too. Ladies and gentlemen, have you all met Miss Montgomery? Hmmm, but don’t get used to calling her that for long. She’ll be a Stone soon enough, and we’ll be planning quite the celebration to honor the occasion, too.”

  Claire flashed me a puzzled glance, a perfect fit with the single word she mouthed Stone?

  “Mother—Willa—” Hell, I’d gone through this yesterday. She’d insisted I continue to call her Mother, which had been fine at the lunch table with just the two of us but felt odd in this setting. “What the hell is this all about?”

  Another familiar face pushed back from the table toward the other end of the room. Well, more familiar than the rest. I’d made it a point to connect with every board member beyond the surface demands of our business, and seeing them all in one place did remind me how I’d missed them. But Mason Donner and I had logged a lot of miles together over the last few years. Part was due to the diversification I’d forged into the company. The other part was due to Trey’s nonstop legal adventures.

  “Killian.” He, too, shook my hand, his grip twelve times tighter than Willa’s. Though he was a burly guy, I also beheld the fires of desperate emotion in his eyes. I had the feeling that to him, this handshake wasn’t just a handshake. “Damn, it’s good to see you back in here.”

  “Even if I look like a stinkin’ roadie?” I lifted my head and sniffed. “Shit. Probably smell like one, too.”

  Some of the older board members shifted uncomfortably at my humor. A lot more of them chuckled. My language had always been as impeachable as my suits, my hair, my shoes, and likely my tight little sphincter, too. Then I’d learned to surf. The world was a different place.

  “Well, that makes two of us, baby,” Claire murmured in support.

  Mason squared his stance. “I don’t care if you smell like a Vervet monkey who hasn’t cleaned his ass in three weeks, Stone.” He jabbed up his chin at my furrowed brows. “Yes, that’s right. I said Stone. It’s still legally your name, Killian. It has been since you were five. The only thing left to change about it is how you feel.”

  I impaled him with a glare. Circled the look out to the rest of the room. “Don’t you mean how you all feel?” A chuff escaped. “With all due respect, I was just fine with everything until my dear ‘brother’ stirred everyone’s pot.”

  Daphne Ravine, a former model originally from France who now helped with SGC’s vitamins and organics division, stepped out. “And zee stew, it sucks.”

  “Yep.” Larry McGraw, the hugest Texan I’d ever known, nodded. “Suckage, Kil. Big time.”

  The room erupted into a buzz of agreement ranging from quiet nods to more dramatic gesticulations. I watched in quiet amazement as people I’d known for years, normally possessing the most genteel manners on earth, all but staged a rally behind a message I’d already heard a dozen times but hadn’t truly seen or understood until I’d walked into the dingy lobby tonight. A lobby I’d once personally inspected each week.

  To my shock, Mother was the one who eased everyone into silence again, before serving as the mouthpiece for their final point.

  “We’ve rendered a unanimous vote of ‘No Confidence’ in Trey’s ability to run the company.” She shook her head. “If you think the building looks awful, you won’t believe the P and L ledger.” Her huge eyes lifted to mine, thick with entreaty. “We want to reinstate you as the CEO
of Stone Global Corporation.”

  I didn’t move. I was pretty damn sure that if I did, I’d wake up from what was turning out to be a crazy dream. On the other hand, waking up meant I’d be back with Claire in the real world, not having to deal with this mental overload of holy shit and you’ve got to be kidding me.

  “I—” Well, that was eloquent. “Whoa.” Yeah, even better.

  “It’s in trouble, Killian. The company you built. The company nobody cares about more than you.”

  I wanted to laugh and I think she knew it. “Cares” was a funny word all of a sudden. My “care” had consumed years of my life, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. That same “care” had been booted out the door when they’d all bowed to Josiah’s old school bullshit and let Trey start playing house up here.

  But the reasoning, once capable of twisting my gut with such rage, just…didn’t. To borrow a phrase from Woody, one of the regulars in the waves at La Jolla, I was over it.

  Didn’t stop me from being damn confused when the board members broke out in applause following Willa’s words.

  Applause?

  Was the situation here that desperate?

  As if fate read my mind, a herd of footsteps sounded from the doorway behind us. I turned to find a sea of faces, too. Identifying every one of them broadened the smile on my face. One of them was Britta. Another was Brett from the mail room. And there was Terryn, from the lobby coffee cart, whom I’d befriended when getting Claire’s afternoon caffeine hits when she was in town. There were receptionists and janitors, sales managers and their assistants; even Walter had come up, joining the throng with a huge grin on his face. They were all shapes and sizes, genders and colors, ethnicities and lifestyles.

  They were the people who’d cared as much as I did. Who’d logged in a lot of those off-the-clock hours just like me. Who’d mixed their sweat and blood with mine to raise SGC into a symbol of commerce and success, but also fairness and diversity.

  They were all family. All Stones.

  Just as much as I was.

  Turning my back on them would be like ripping my soul out. Again.

  I turned to the woman who’d soon bear that last name, as well. I had no idea what I’d see on her face. To my shock—well, not that much—Claire was already crying. The tears were clearly happy ones, aglow in a stare that matched her proud, huge smile. She squeezed my hand tighter, bouncing it in support that needed no words.

  She floored me. Not for the first time today, but perhaps with the biggest wallop. Supporting me in this choice meant our California dream could at best be only part-time.

  Or did it?

  I pulled free of Mother and Claire in order to lift both hands, hushing the room once more. “I’d be honored to return—on two conditions.”

  Larry McGraw gave an encouraging fist pump. “Name your figure, Stone. It’ll be some of the best dough I’ve rolled all year.”

  “Nope,” I countered. “I don’t draw a damn penny in salary until this place is on its feet again. And we get something living back in the lobby—including the body at the security desk.” After everyone chuckled, I moved to the head of the long conference table and spread my arms to its corners. “Since I assume nobody has any objections to condition one, I’ll move on to two.” I set my shoulders and steeled my jaw. Big bombs required tough purpose. “I’m only running this business if I can do it from California.”

  I gripped the table, preparing for the backlash.

  Instead, I received Claire’s stunned gasp—followed by another burst of applause.

  As the impact of the reaction swelled over me, I pivoted back, reaching for Claire again. Everyone clapped louder when I yanked her close and smashed my mouth over hers. It was the connection of reality I needed in this surreal moment and I took full advantage of it, savoring her until we both couldn’t get any more air.

  “Killian,” she finally rasped, “are you sure?”

  I gazed into her breathtaking bronze eyes with a soft smirk and a steady nod. “Best business decision I’ve made all year.”

  Fresh tears welled in her gaze. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Why? You’re the fairy queen who rescued me from hell, remember?”

  “Yeah, but look at what the hairy beast turned into.” She raised gentle fingers to my face, caressing them back into my hair. “My fantasy king.”

  Her touch sent desire through my body, light through my heart…and love through my soul. As I did so many times each day, I thanked the heavens for this brave, beautiful woman who’d believed in me when no one else did, loved me even when I couldn’t do it for myself. I would wake each day vowing to be the man she’d believed in…the king she deserved.

  The resolve inspired me to kiss her again. My lips lingered over hers after. “Hey, fairy queen of mine?”

  “Yes, stud king of mine?”

  “Why don’t we go build a kingdom?”

  It was a damn good plan.

  For starters.

  *

  The Stone Family will be back…in Spring 2015!

  Follow Angel and Victoria for more news about

  No Perfect Princess

  Secrets of Stone, Book 3

  Angel’s Facebook Page

  Victoria’s Facebook Page

  Angel’s Twitter

  Victoria Twitter

  SUBSCRIBE TO ANGEL’S MONTHLY NEWSLETTER, THE WING, HERE

  And coming in February 2015:

  A NEW SERIES from USA Today Bestseller Angel Payne:

  The Cimarron Series

  The Cimarrons:

  They’re the mysterious, magnetic ruling family of the most secretive kingdom on earth: The Island of Arcadia.

  No westerners have ever been allowed inside Arcadia’s borders…until now.

  Book 1:

  Into His Dark

  Cimarron Series, Book 1

  A new adventure…

  Camellia “Cam” Saxon struggles not to pinch herself. Is she really here, as a guest in the castle of the world’s most mysterious royal family, working on the only western film crew allowed on the island of Arcadia? A year ago, she was the girl who finished college with a sigh instead of a bang, moving on to a safe logistics job and a steady suburban routine without a blink…until she got the call from a film graduate buddy that would change everything.

  A dangerous desire…

  Cam’s excitement turns to dread in one instant—as soon as she lays eyes on Evrest Cimarron. Arcadia’s king is beautiful, chiseled, commanding—and according to the strictest law of his land, forbidden. No matter how Evrest crushes her logic to dust and turns her blood to fire, he’s a fantasy that must not be fed…ever.

  A journey into the wicked…

  A mishap lands Cam in Evrest’s most secret chambers, surrounded by luxury beyond imagination—and seduced by a creature who is no longer charming host and alluring king but passionate man. In Evrest’s arms, Cam learns she has new identities, too. The sensible girl is abandoned for a woman of illicit needs, sinful cravings…darkest desires.

  It’s the most incredible night of her life. The most perfect man she’s known. The most flawless fit for her soul.

  A mistake she can never make again.

  COMING MARCH 3, 2015

  from New York Times and USA Today Bestseller

  Shayla Black:

  HIS TO TAKE

  A Wicked Lovers novel

  Racing against time, NSA Agent Joaquin Muñoz is searching for a little girl who vanished twenty years ago with a dangerous secret. Since Bailey Benson fits the profile, Joaquin abducts the beauty and whisks her to the safety of Club Dominion—before anyone can silence her for good.

  At first, Bailey is terrified, but when her captor demands information about her past, she’s stunned. Are her horrific visions actually distant memories that imperil all she holds dear? Confined with Joaquin in a place that echoes with moans and breathes passion, he proves himself a fierce protector, as well as a sensual Master who’s
slowly crawling deeper in her head…and heart. But giving in to him might be the most delicious danger of all.

  Because Bailey soon learns that her past isn’t the only mystery. Joaquin has a secret of his own—a burning vengeance in his soul. The exposed truth leaves her vulnerable and wondering how much about the man she loves is a lie, how much more is at risk than her heart. And if she can trust him to protect her long enough to learn the truth.

  Sneak Preview Excerpt

  “…What about you? You’re with another government agency, so you’re here to… what? Be my lover? Does Uncle Sam think you need to crawl between my legs in order to watch over me?”

  Joaquin ground his jaw. She was hitting low, and the logical part of him understood that she was hurt, so she was lashing out at the messenger because she didn’t have anyone else. But that didn’t stop his temper from getting swept up in her cyclone of emotion. “I’m not here on anyone’s orders. In fact, I’ll probably be fired for pursuing this case because Tatiana Aslanov isn’t on my boss’s radar. When it became obvious the agency intended to do nothing, I couldn’t leave you to that horrific death. So here we are. But let me clue you in, baby girl. Uncle Sam doesn’t tell me who to fuck. I can’t fake an erection, even for the sake of God and country. That kiss we almost shared? That was me wanting you because just being in the same room with you makes me want to strip off everything you’re wearing and impale you with every inch I’ve got.”

  When he eased closer to Bailey, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “Don’t come near me.”