THE MITUS TOUCH: Book One of The Touch Series

by Stoni Alexander

  “I’m famished.” Brigit selected a warm pastry and sat at Colton’s conference table.

  Colton flipped his gaze to Brigit’s midriff, then back into her eyes. “I’ll ask Shane to make you a pot of decaf. Do you need a nap?”

  Brigit and Marjorie burst out laughing. “A nap and decaf?” Brigit asked. “At a time like this?”

  Marjorie cleared her froggy throat. “If Mitus Conglomerate has nap time, I’m leaving the insanity at Francesco and applying for a position here.”

  The three worked through lunch, discussing every conceivable strategy for killing MobiCom’s hostile takeover attempt.

  “Brigit, finish your lobster salad.” Colton pointed to the half-eaten food on her plate.

  “You’re the Clothing Czar and the food police? That portion was huge. I’m full.” Brigit laid her hand across her belly, where his baby was probably the size of a peanut.

  My baby. My unborn child.

  “You need to keep up your strength.” Colton forked fruit salad into his mouth.

  “This is all very heartwarming, but could we please stay focused?” Marjorie pushed her plate away. “I’m confident Brigit knows how to manage her food consumption, Colton. So, Brigit, what do you think of Crockett’s invention? Pretty damn impressive, right?”

  Brigit sighed. “I’m not privy to the details.”

  Marjorie raised her brows. “Brigit’s not a confidante? Don’t freeze her out, Colton.”

  “She shouldn’t be overly stressed,” Colton said.

  “Too late,” Brigit said. “My stress levels shot through the roof the day I…um…uh…never mind.”

  She is pregnant.

  At Marjorie’s nudging nod, Colton put down his fork. “I’ve known Crockett since our freshman year at Harvard. Two years ago, he approached me with a project he and his team had been working on. Nicknamed Crockett Boxes, they increase network capacity for both voice and data between cellular towers and mobile devices. Depending on the configuration of the base station’s existing equipment, the capacity increase ranges from three to ten times what exists today. That means—”

  “Faster throughput and lower cost while serving an ever increasing population of subscribers,” Brigit said.

  Damn, she’s smart. “You got it. With signed contracts from two of the wireless carriers, the potential is—”

  “Hundreds of millions,” Brigit said. “And since the product’s being assembled at Francesco’s factory, the company earns a percentage of every Crockett Box sold.”

  “Exciting, huh?” Marjorie asked.

  Brigit shifted her gaze from one to the other. “This is huge.”

  Marjorie shot Colton a knowing smile. “Now she’s onboard.”

  After more discussion and brainstorming, Brigit rose. “Would either of you like something? Shane’s baked goodies?” She patted her stomach. “I’m going to gain some pounds working here.”

  “Sure, dear,” Marjorie said.

  The pregnancy is making her hungry. “I’ll text Shane,” Colton said. “A protein shake is a healthier choice.”

  Brigit opened the door and glanced back at Colton. “That’s fine, but I still need a moment.”

  Needing to clear her head, Brigit stepped out front. Now she understood why MobiCom was going full-tilt for Francesco. Crockett Boxes would take the wireless industry to the next technological level. If only her parents had been around to see this kind of breakthrough. She rubbed her chest, hoping to lessen the pain in her heart.

  Colton had personally brought the innovation to Francesco. Through his no-interest loan, Francesco could manufacture more Crockett Boxes, thus controlling output stream and quality. She anticipated the success of the product would catapult Francesco’s languishing stock, turning a midsize company into an organizational powerhouse.

  With the future of her company at stake, MobiCom had to be stopped. Not because Francesco would be absorbed into MobiCom’s operations and cease to exist, but because Wilson Montgomery didn’t deserve this win. Colton did. He was the glue holding this entire project together.

  She knew so little about the intricacies of corporate takeovers, but Melvin Parsons did. But she’d left her phone on her desk. Dammit.

  Just then, Vanessa drove up the driveway and parked at the circle. After lifting several designer shopping bags from her trunk, she bustled toward the front door. What a cushy job.

  “Taking a break?” Vanessa asked.

  Shopping during work hours? “Clearing my head.”

  “Want to go for drinks sometime?” Vanessa stopped on the cobblestone walkway.

  Yeah, right. “I’m super busy with work right now.” Brigit looked across the manicured property, hoping Vanessa would go inside so she could think.

  “I’d go stir-crazy if I were you. You hardly leave the compound. There’s a new Tyson’s restaurant called the Publick House. Happy hours are crazy sick.”

  “Uh-huh.” Brigit whipped her gaze toward Vanessa. “Wait, what?”

  “Drinks, sometime? Boy, you are working too hard.”

  “What’s the name of that restaurant?”

  “Publick House. You’ve probably heard all the buzz.”

  “That’s it!” Brigit bolted into the house and down the hallway. Flinging open Colton’s door, she blurted, “I’ve got it!”

  “Got what?” Marjorie asked.

  She closed the door and placed her palms on the conference table. “A possible way to get MobiCom off our backs.”

  “Go,” Colton said.

  “Francesco goes public with the innovation. That should drive the stock price up, beyond MobiCom’s reach. Everyone will want in. Shareholders won’t sell. There won’t be enough shares for MobiCom to buy, and without majority, their hostile takeover fizzles. Game over.”

  Marjorie nodded. “We’ve been so focused on keeping things under wraps, that might work.”

  With a nod, Colton strummed his fingers on the table. “That’s a solid idea, Brigit.”

  Marjorie glanced at her watch. “I’ll run it by the execs on my way to the airport. We’ll circulate our own press release and inundate social media. With any luck Montgomery will choke on the news.”

  “What about Dobb?” Colton asked.

  “I can handle that squirmy worm.” Marjorie shoved her laptop into her bag.

  Brigit snorted. Squirmy worm was one of Marjorie’s favorite phrases. Marjorie winked at her.

  As Colton stood and buttoned his suit jacket, there was a knock on his door. “Enter.”

  Red walked in. “Marjorie, Vonn will drive you to Dulles. Colton, tonight’s event is confirmed. I need your ear.”

  “Finally, some good news.” Colton stepped aside to speak with her.

  Brigit hugged Mrs. Mic. “Thanks for nudging him to confide in me,” she whispered.

  Marjorie nodded. “I’ll keep you posted.” Red escorted Marjorie out.

  They were alone. When her eyes met his smoldering stare, her body stirred.

  “We leave in thirty,” he said. “Taylor will assist with what to wear.”

  Not again. Dread crept into her consciousness, pushing out all those glorious tingles. Leaving the compound felt like tempting fate. Could she refuse? The steadfast look in his eyes was a resounding no. “Can you bring another Mitus minion?”

  “This is one event you won’t want to miss.”

  His charming grin sent her pulse skyrocketing. That man was too damned hot. In his doorway, she turned back. “I’ll be ready.”

  Secretly she liked spending time with him. With Francesco front and center, it was only a matter of time before Colton learned about her past. Once he knew the truth, he’d want nothing more to do with his Brigit. Was it so wrong to follow her heart, just this once?

  38

  Dream Lake

  Two hours later, Colton parked the Mercedes near the building in a mostly deserted lot and cut the engine. In the darkened car Brigit flipped her gaze to him. “Spelunking is definitely an unexpec
ted work event.”

  He’d never said the word work, but she’d figure that out soon enough. With his hand on the door handle, he turned toward her. “No cave crawling.” Though Brigit had already stepped out, he walked around to her side, lifted her jacket from the front seat and shut the car door. She’d worn hiking boots, jeans and a brown sweater. “You look great. Why don’t you dress like that more often?”

  “The Clothing Czar has a lot of rules.” She shot him a snarky smile, took her jacket from him and walked toward the entrance.

  The soft breeze blew tendrils across her cheek. On impulse he wanted to brush the fly-aways, but tonight was about exercising control.

  “I’ve never been here,” she said as they headed toward the entrance.

  “Me neither. A first for us both.”

  Her expression softened. He’d arranged the evening as a show of gratitude. His portfolio was no longer limping along like an injured pup. For the first time in months, he’d seen significant gains. And she’d proven herself a strong ally where Francesco was concerned.

  But nothing was ever simple.

  Since the break-in, he’d been ignoring Tucker’s constant reminders to put the squeeze on her. She knows the perp, Tucker had told him. Get her to talk. Was this the right venue to encourage her to open up? Truth was, he needed alone time with Brigit. No staff, no work, and no fucking MobiCom breathing down his neck. Like a Neanderthal, he was dragging her ass to a cave.

  Best ass I’ve ever seen.

  A young man dressed in Dockers and a black cable-knit sweater trotted into the cool lobby. “Mr. Mitus? I’m Will, your host.” The two men shook hands, then Colton introduced Brigit.

  Will cleared his throat. “Welcome to Luray Caverns. I’m going to take you back four hundred million years as we explore one of the oldest wonders and beauties of our planet. The temperature throughout the cave is a constant fifty-four degrees.”

  “Where is everyone?” Brigit asked as they descended into the mouth of the cavern and down the low-lit walkway.

  “We close to the public at four o’clock,” explained Will. “The caverns are yours this evening.”

  “Oh, wow.” She looked at Colton and grinned. Her beautiful smile was worth the expense.

  As Will escorted them through the cavernous rooms, explaining the history behind the cave and how stalagmites and stalactites formed, Colton wanted to hold her hand or stroke her back, but tonight he kept one hand by his side and the other tucked in his pants pocket.

  During the tour, they paused to admire Dream Lake cavern. The magnificent stalactites hung down, their reflections captured in the mirrored stillness of the pond. As Brigit turned from the shallow water toward him, she caressed his arm. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Every time she left the compound the fear in her eyes tore at his guts. But in the quiet of the cave, her angst melted away. As they stared into each other’s eyes, he hungered to pull her into his arms. There was no way in hell he’d be able to keep his distance. No fucking way.

  Their last stop was the palatial Stalacpipe Organ room. The backdrop for the majestic instrument was the high ceiling and dramatic stalactites dangling like sand-colored icicles.

  “Beautiful,” she murmured.

  There was a four-person table in the center of the room, covered with a white tablecloth and set for two. A bottle chilled in an ice bucket and a giant bouquet of short-stemmed peach roses with yellow tips filled a vase.

  “You’re welcome to play the organ,” Will said. “Please use these first.” Will set down a container of hand wipes and left a walkie-talkie.

  Colton handed him an envelope.

  “Totally not necessary, but thank you.” Will took it and shook his hand. “It plays ‘A Mighty Fortress is Our God.’” Will programmed the organ before trotting out.

  As the hymn reverberated around the room, Brigit stood perfectly still in the middle of the room. “It’s breathtaking.”

  Yes, you are. Needing to be close, he stood beside her.

  “Your efforts and the results we’ve achieved have been outstanding,” he said when the music ended. “Thank you for stopping my financial bleeding and for helping ensure Francesco doesn’t get absorbed into MobiCom. I thought this would be a memorable way to celebrate and unwind.”

  She blew out a frustrated breath and faced him. “What’s my punishment when I don’t fall in line?”

  “Losing is never an option.”

  She wrung her hands. “Sometimes we can’t control the outcome and we have to live with the consequences, no matter how difficult.”

  What was happening? Their fairy tale evening seemed to be unraveling. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he strode to the bucket and lifted the bottle. Her expression fell. “Were you expecting champagne?” He poured a glass of sparkling water. “This is a healthier choice for you and…for…um, for us both.”

  “Clothing Czar. Food Dictator,” she mumbled as she took the glass. He poured another and held it up.

  “Cheers.” He toasted her. “To a strong and lasting partnership.” After taking a sip he said, “May I have this dance?”

  Her eyes softened. He hadn’t a clue what had upset her, but he’d move on. After setting the organ to replay the song, he slipped his arm around her waist. In silence they swayed to the hymn. Though surrounded by people daily, Colton had been a loner until Brigit had entered his world. From that moment, he’d done whatever necessary to ensure she was by his side.

  Reluctantly, she placed her hand on his bicep. But she wouldn’t look at him.

  The music ended. He stopped moving, but didn’t remove his hand from her waist. “Look at me,” he murmured.

  She refused.

  “My strong-willed Brigit.” Her gaze drifted to his. The undeniable connection hummed between them. He could hear it as much as he could feel the never-ending magnetic attraction, pulling them closer. Her bottom lip trembled. “Can I get your jacket?”

  She shook her head.

  “I think your trembling lip is sending a secret message.” Unable to resist, he kissed her softly. “Message received.”

  Her eyes grew misty and she stepped away. The distance left him cold.

  “Brigit, there’s so much I like about you. I thought destiny and fate were for dreamers and fools, yet here we are. I can’t imagine sharing this profound beauty with anyone but you.”

  Hugging herself, she faced him. “This is magical and I appreciate the accolades. You hired me to do a job and I’ll do my best to exceed your expectations.”

  “Do you know what I like most about you?” He made up the distance between them and moved back into her personal space.

  She cocked a brow and hitched her hand on her hip. “I have a pretty good idea.”

  Relieved the awkward moment had passed and she was her feisty self again, he smiled. “Not even close.” He pressed the glass to his lips and tipped the refreshing water into his mouth. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever met who won’t back down. You aren’t afraid of me. You aren’t in awe of me. You may or may not give a shit about me. I have no idea.” Clasping her hand, he caressed her silky skin with his thumb. “You’re independent and strong-willed to a fault. It’s your way or no way. That is your sexiest, most appealing quality. It drives me wild. When you flipped me off at Sullivan’s, I—”

  “Colton, don’t.”

  “Brigit, you’re very smart, crazy beautiful, eager for a challenge, sexually insatiable and different from any woman I’ve ever met.”

  “You have got to stop talking.” She pivoted and yanked the bottle from the ice bucket. With trembling fingers, she topped her flute. He stepped close and their arms brushed. Desire coursed through him. Without glancing at him, she filled his glass.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shuddered in a breath and pursed her lips. For reasons he couldn’t begin to understand she’d become guarded as hell. Time to lighten the mood. He gestured toward the organ. “Why don’t you hop up there a
nd try it out?”

  “No way.” Now visibly shaking, she rubbed her arms.

  He picked up her jacket and shrugged it over her, then with two fingers gently hooking her chin, he tipped her face toward him. “Doing what terrifies us makes us stronger when we achieve the impossible. I believe in you.”

  His encouraging smile wasn’t enough to evoke one from her. Her eyes were wide, like a caged animal. “I’ve never played in front of anyone. Only my mom and dad…a lifetime ago.”

  “To ensure I can’t hear, I’ll stick my fingers in my ears.” He tossed a nod in the direction of the instrument. “Go on, you can do it.”

  Walking toward the three-step staircase like she didn’t trust her legs, she got as far as the first step. He offered his hand and she placed hers in his. Her fingers were ice cold and her hand trembled. Pain pummeled his chest. He wanted to comfort her, tell her she didn’t have to do it. But she’d feel triumphant if she could conquer her fear. And he believed she could. He held her hand until she reached the safety of the platform, then let go. Alone with her demons, she sat on the bench.

  “Before you play—” He handed her a wipe, then pulled out a chair and sat.

  The player organ housed four rows of keys, too many knobs to count and four pedals. After cleaning her fingers, she placed them on the lowest keyboard and played a few notes.

  You can do it.

  Her shoulders rose as she inhaled a deep breath. She struck a chord, then tapped out a melody. And then she cut loose. Her emotion, through the music, filled the cavernous room while the echoes danced in the shadows.

  Colton sat spellbound. When she finished, an all-encompassing peace surrounded them in a protective cocoon she had spun.

  For the first time in years, tranquility soothed Brigit’s restless soul. Since the death of her parents, she’d always played alone. With Colton’s encouragement, she’d overcome a childhood roadblock.

  Feeling triumphant, she rose and walked the short distance to the staircase and waited. Two easy strides and he offered his hand. This time, when she touched him she felt his strength and his belief in her. On the last step, they stood eye to eye. “Thank you,” she whispered.