International Guy: Milan, San Francisco, Montreal (International Guy Volumes Book 2)

by Audrey Carlan

  Keehan clasps his hands in front of him as we walk. “I don’t know. Sometimes I imagine having a child. But a woman would have to understand my work comes first. Rochelle has been screwed over by countless men in her personal and professional life. I’m never going to be added to that list.”

  “Wow. You make it sound like Rochelle is the most important person in your life.” I chuckle but continue to lead him to what I want him to at the very least see, or even better, admit to.

  He shrugs a little. “She is. We both have very little family and none in the area. We spend holidays together, long nights in the office working the numbers, setting goals. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I didn’t have her.”

  “Interesting.”

  He turns a corner, and I follow him down a long hallway. As we pass a wall of windows, the hum of the giant servers within makes the air pulsate against the back of my neck, hands, and face.

  “Why interesting?” Keehan inquires.

  “Doesn’t matter. You didn’t seem happy Rochelle called us in to find her a mate. Why is that?”

  His eyes harden, and I can see a muscle in his cheek flicker. “No reason. If she wants to find herself a toy, it’s her business. They never last. I’m not worried.”

  Um, he doesn’t know my man Royce. If Royce wants Rochelle, he’ll be relentless in his pursuit. Besides, I have confidence in my abilities to find her the right man.

  “Oh, this one will last. I’m getting paid to find her the proper mate. Someone to share her life with, have a child with.”

  He stops as if he’s been jolted by a lightning bolt. “You have got to be kidding me.” He growls, turns, and starts to pace in the hallway like a caged animal. “This is insane. She can’t seriously be planning on settling down with whomever you find for her.” He grits his teeth and practically snarls like a pit bull ready to attack an intruder.

  “Why?”

  “Because she can’t marry someone and have a child!” He runs his hands over the back of his head, his elbows parallel to the floor. Anger swirls around his form like a physical tornado. I can almost see his fury about what I’ve stated.

  “Why not?” I ask again with the same easy tone, not letting his irritation affect my attitude.

  “Because she’s supposed to be mine! Marry me. Have my child! Fuck!” He groans, turns on a heel, and slams open the door at the end of the hall. It shakes in its frame as he storms through. “I cannot freakin’ believe she’s doing this.” His shoulders slump. “Why can’t she see?” He turns around and stares at me, his eyes black as night. “Tell me, please, you’re the expert. Why can’t she see what’s right in front of her face?”

  I shake my head and clasp my hands in front of me, being the epitome of calm. “Based on what I’ve witnessed so far, the two of you are close.”

  He nods. “Absolutely.”

  “You count on one another,” I hint.

  “Implicitly.”

  “Have worked together for a long time.”

  “Yes. All of that,” Keehan says, exasperated at my not getting to the point.

  “Yet I get the feeling you have never made a move on her.”

  Keehan’s entire body seems to slump right before my eyes. His broad shoulders curve forward, his chin dipping down toward his chest, and his face displays a sullen expression. “You can’t just hit on a woman like Rochelle. Especially not after the history we have. She’d laugh in my face.”

  “Why?”

  He half laughs. “Rochelle is way out of my league.”

  The man is insane. I look him up and down, taking in his large form, fit, well dressed. I see no reason for him to think he’s not in her league, and I set about making sure he knows it too. “Not true. You’re handsome, career minded, intelligent. Seems to me, you fit pretty well.”

  He huffs and looks away, resting a hand on his waist, the other rubbing over his chin. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  I jerk my head back. “Excuse me? Actually, you’d be surprised. I know exactly what you’re going through. Wanting someone you think is so far out of your stratosphere you’re in another universe completely.”

  “Yeah right.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder. “Man, my girlfriend is Skyler Paige.”

  His entire body seems to go stiff as a board, and his eyes widen. “The actress?”

  I nod.

  “The hottest woman in Hollywood . . .”

  I squeeze his shoulder with a little extra force. “Watch it.” Without even trying, my voice turns into a warning. Like a dog circling its territory. Even mention my woman’s name in a sexual manner and I’ll bite your head off.

  Keehan whistles through his teeth. “Damn. You do know what I’m going through. Only to the hundredth degree. Still, when it comes to Chelle, I become a total loser.”

  “So, you’re admitting to not having given her a reason to think of you as more than a friend and confidant. A colleague.”

  “We’re more than colleagues,” he sneers.

  I raise my eyebrows. “Could’ve fooled me.”

  “It’s never been the right time.”

  “At the rate you’re going, bro, it never will be. I’ve seen snails move faster than you. Ninety-year-old men chasing tail in a nursing home move faster. Be real with me. What’s holding you back? She’s beautiful; you’re a handsome man. The two of you seem to care for one another, if what I saw back there in her office was any indication.”

  “I guess that’s the problem. I care too much,” he admits with a note of defeat.

  I wager a guess. “You don’t want to risk a good thing?”

  His gaze is tortured. “If it goes south, we lose it all. Our working relationship would be impossible. And as sappy as it sounds, man, she’s my best friend. Work has been our combined goal. It’s what makes us who we are.”

  “And yet you want more.”

  “Yeah.” He rubs at the back of his neck.

  “She sure as hell wants more, or she wouldn’t have called us.”

  Keehan walks over to his desk and sits behind three matching monitors all lined up in a row.

  “What is this? The command center? Wow.” I scan the room, noting more desks with stacks of monitors lined up. A couple of flat-screen TVs are against one wall, showing the stock market and Nasdaq numbers in real time.

  Keehan grins, finally showing a bit more of his natural exuberance. “You could call it that. I run a variety of the company’s reports, keep track of the financial shifts, track different stocks and markets, all while sending real-time reports to the team and Chelle. I also manage all the rest of the networks, developers, help-desk guys, and the like.”

  “So, tell me . . . With running such a tight ship, how could someone steal from RFS? Wouldn’t red flags be flying?”

  He nods while his fingers tap the keys, flying into a blur of activity. “I know Rochelle said there were forty people who could access those accounts, but they can’t without leaving an electronic trail. Royce told me to look for an unusual person accessing that account. And the system logs everything people do.”

  “Then it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out who’s accessed the accounts and made withdrawals or moved money in a pattern of some sort, right?”

  “In a perfect world, yes. From what I was able to surmise over the last six quarters, the person has been doing it for at least eighteen months, maybe more. I’d have to go back further to find out for sure.”

  “If I were you, I’d get on it immediately. Take your results to the boss lady.” I grin and wink suggestively.

  Keehan’s cheeks seem to darken a bit. “Yeah, I’ll do that. What are you going to do while we deal with this storm?”

  “About this situation?”

  He jerks his chin up in agreement.

  “Nothing. I’m not here to find out who’s embezzling from her company, although I’m certain Royce is making it his personal mission. Regardless of how you feel, I’m here to find her a mate.” />
  Keehan scowls and clacks away at his keyboard. “And how do you propose to do that, if I may ask?”

  This is too freakin’ easy. Like shooting fish in a barrel. “Why? You going to throw your hat into the ring, finally?”

  “Maybe.” He centers his gaze on me and doesn’t move a muscle, his fingers hovering over the keys in front of him.

  “I have thirteen prospects to present.”

  He huffs. “Including me?”

  “You’d make fourteen,” I add dryly, as if the number isn’t high. Technically it really isn’t, but to a man who’s in love with a woman, been hiding it for years, that’s thirteen competitors vying for the heart of the woman he wants.

  “Good Lord. This is a nightmare.” He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

  “Sorry to hear you feel that way. I can say I’m glad this scenario is pushing you out of your comfort zone. Something tells me Rochelle is not a woman who waits around. She’ll want a man to be assertive. Show her he’s interested. Not sit twiddling his thumbs while she goes to bed alone every night.”

  “Oh, she’s not alone unless she wants to be. Have you seen her?” He smirks.

  I cant my head to the side. “How does that make you feel?”

  The smirk dies on his face. “Like scum on the bottom of her Louboutins. Like a loser who’s pining away for a woman, living a rather celibate lifestyle because no other woman will do it for him. I see her, and my entire being comes alive. Other women, and my lower half flatlines.” He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

  I whistle. “Harsh.”

  “Truth,” he rebuts.

  “Sounds to me like you need to make some serious changes and fast, if not for you, then for your friend.” I flick my gaze to below his desk and back to his eyes, so he catches my meaning loud and clear.

  “And how do you propose I do that?”

  I grin, pull up a chair, and sit my ass down in it. The plan I hatched while they talked embezzlers is falling right into place.

  4

  The next morning, it’s business as usual as I make my way through the halls of Renner Financial Services, or RFS as the employees call it. I know Royce worked late with Rochelle trying to nail down the schmuck who’s stealing from the company, but I haven’t been briefed. I went to bed before he made it back to his hotel room, which, if I think about it, concerns me, but as Skyler reminded me again last night, Royce is a big boy and can handle himself.

  Still, I’m not certain I shouldn’t ask him to jump ship and fly home, take on another client he’s not so affected by. It would be the wise thing to do for sure. His desire for her is messing up the flow.

  Kind of like when you were falling all over yourself for Skyler, or falling into bed with Sophie for that matter.

  I’m such a hypocrite. A knot forms in my gut. I know I need to let this play out, but it’s gnawing at my insides to fix it. Fix Royce’s problem. Help my brother find what will soothe his soul, like I’ve found what soothes mine. How can wanting to see someone you care about get what they truly desire in life be so wrong?

  When I reach Rochelle’s office, I’m still debating with myself on how to best broach the issue again with Royce when I hear laughter through the door. A very distinctive laugh to be exact. I open the door slowly and grind my teeth at the tableau I encounter.

  Rochelle is sitting on her desk, skirt hiked up to her waist, Royce cradled between her opened thighs. Her head is tipped back, more laughter coming from her throat as Royce lays a line of kisses up her neck to her lips. His hand curls around her smooth thigh and hikes it up higher around his waist.

  Sweet baby Jesus, this is bad.

  “You want me to nail you right here in your office like I did last night?” His voice is a wicked promise.

  “God, yes.” Her hands move around his form to his ass, and she pulls him even closer.

  I can’t tell if he’s dressed, but he seems put together from behind, his pants not sagging around his knees; I guess I can thank the good Lord for small favors.

  “It’s very unprofessional . . . ,” he taunts.

  “Yes, it is. Very unprofessional,” I state loudly.

  One bald head and one dark one jerk out of the sex trance they were in and both turn to me. Royce, still in front of Rochelle, lets her leg fall back to her desk. Rochelle pushes him back so she can slide off the desk, gripping her skirt and tugging it down as she does so.

  “Brother.” Royce’s tone is flat and devoid of emotion when he faces me. As I suspected, his pants are still done up, not much out of place besides his tie dangling around his neck and a few of the shirt buttons undone.

  “I see someone is working hard.” I clasp my hands in front of me, one holding the tablet with the information about the men I was planning to go over with them.

  Royce closes his eyes momentarily and sighs.

  “Mr. Ellis, this is not what it looks like . . . ,” Rochelle starts.

  “Really? It looks like my partner was about to pound you into next week on your desk, and from what I heard, it wouldn’t be the first time.” All of this I state flatly.

  Rochelle smiles coyly. “Okay, so it is what it looks like, but no harm, no foul. It’s not serious. We’re having a bit of fun.”

  A bit of fun.

  The phrase spins around in my mind back to a time where I thought I was having a bit of fun with a fuckhot blonde. A bit of fun turned into a committed relationship. Which would mean, if I believed that Rochelle was Royce’s one in seven billion, I’d back off. The confirmation from her mouth that Roy means nothing to her but a little fun in the sack proves my point.

  I shake my head, turn around, and close the door to avoid any onlookers who might happen by. “Look, if the two of you want to go there with one another, far be it from me to get involved. However, you hired us to find you a mate. Has that changed in light of recent events?” I gesture to Roy and the desk he’s leaning against.

  Before Royce can respond, Rochelle immediately replies, “No.”

  Royce’s mouth opens and closes tight. His professional mask slips over his face. Having known this man for a decade, I can tell her response is not what he was expecting to hear. Royce may have his fun and games, but he definitely wouldn’t risk something at work if he weren’t at least a little taken with the woman, more than for a quick fuck on her desk.

  “No? Are you sure?” I ask again to be certain she’s not hung up on a certain brother of mine.

  Rochelle smooths her hair down on each side before responding. “Roy and I are compatible physically, but his life is in Massachusetts; mine is in California. A few fantastic fucks is all either of us can offer one another. Right, handsome?” She smiles and winks in his direction.

  Royce licks his kiss-swollen lips and jerks his chin up at her. “Right, Chellie. And you’re one fantastic fuck.” His voice is guarded, but the choice of words is meant to pierce the woman’s steely veneer.

  The barb hits and rolls right off her chest. No wound can be found. “See, no issue here. Parker, I understand you want to go over the list of men?” she asks me, her eyes lighting up in the process. “I admit, I am excited. It’s kind of like Christmas, but instead of unwrapping a present, I’m unwrapping my future husband.” She brings her hands to her chest in a little show of cheer.

  My God, was I this callous about sexual relations in the past? I mean, I had my man whore days for sure, especially after Kayla screwed me over, but I’m convinced any woman I bedded since those days knew the score. Sophie definitely knew the parameters; hell, she helped set them. Royce does not. My gaze flickers to Roy, and my heart beats hard. He’s standing tall and seemingly unaffected, but I know better. He likes Rochelle. Likes her for more than what she is offering. This has to be a blow to his manhood. Silently, I chastise myself for being so careless toward women in the past. No more. Sky’s it for me. She’s changed me for the long haul. Now if I could only help my brother find the one.

  I remind Rochelle of our c
ommitment while watching Royce brood silently. “We can’t promise marriage. Our goal is to set you up with the best possible match. It’s up to you to take any relationship further.”

  She waves her hand in the air. “I understand.”

  While I try to figure out how to smooth this situation over—one Rochelle is obviously not seeing as a situation at all—Royce adjusts his jacket and attitude, becoming the perfectly poised professional, and heads over to the door.

  “If you two will excuse me, I’m going to meet with Keehan and go over some of the things we found last night. Give him the list of the five people we need to investigate further regarding the missing funds.”

  Rochelle smiles wide. “Excellent idea. Thanks, Roy.” She bats her eyelashes as if nothing’s happened. She really is a smooth operator and a hard-and-fast workaholic, treating her request for a mate as a business transaction and nothing more. And I thought I was bad. Rochelle puts the entire IG team to shame when it comes to work ethic. Morals, however, may be an entirely different story. The woman can blatantly bang a business associate on her desk, try for more in the morning, and brush it off as though she’s dismissing a second cup of coffee.

  I don’t think I could be so brash, but I search my memory bank, pretty sure I’ve been rather douche-like in my past. When Kayla ruined what we had, I definitely dipped my wick in a lot of women. Many whose names I can’t recall. Again, these were club and bar hookups. They got out of me what I got out of them. Royce wants more. Keehan wants more.

  It makes me wonder if I’m going to be able to make her see the truth. Help her figure out that what she truly needs is something she’s had all along.

  On top of my budding concern about whether or not I’ll be able to fully help this client with what we’ve been tasked to do, I’m worried about my brother. He hasn’t put himself out there in a long time. This might be a huge blow to his confidence he doesn’t need. At least with me, Royce can be honest and let his displeasure show, but having to hold it back because of the job . . . I don’t know how that’s going to go over long term. I hope he sees the situation for what it is. A hookup.

  Royce bails before I can say anything to him, which is probably best. We’ll catch up later once the burn cools.