Accidentally Seduced (The Naked Truth Series Book 3)

by Carmen Falcone

  “I come from money.” She glanced down at the dark wood flooring, and wished she had a stiff drink in her hands. Even though she wasn’t much of a drinker. Her parents had been blue-collar hardworking Italian immigrants. Thanks to her brothers and their well-deserved financial success, she had been able to go to nice schools and enjoy a privileged lifestyle.

  “Fair enough,” he said, unfazed by her revelation. “My main concern is, I want you to keep your mouth shut. Don’t tell Matthew I know he thinks I stole. Can you do that?”

  Oh no. Not another favor. Assignment. Goal. Whatever it was called. She rubbed her temple, and started to think out loud. “Despite Matthew having a big head at the moment, he helped me in the past and we’re still friends. I can’t betray him.”

  Devon leaned forward, and for a second her breath caught in her throat. Even sitting, his muscles stretched under his shirt, and her fingers tingled to run along his chest. What the hell was happening to her? She curled her fingers into a fist, wishing she could just will away that sensation. That desire. That need.

  “How is that betraying him?” he asked.

  “Because he knows you kissed someone. Someone saw us, but she couldn’t see me. And he told me to discover who that woman was.”

  Devon stood, and let out a long sigh. The atmosphere around them shifted, tension crackling in the air. She lifted her hand to her throat, her fingers drumming over her flesh. “So he can use it against me.”

  She nodded. What good was it denying it?

  He peered at her, his gorgeous dark eyes flickering. “Why didn’t you tell him that it was you? You obviously don’t need the job.”

  “For two reasons. First, I didn’t think it was fair to have you kicked from the CEO race because I asked you to kiss me. But if I said that to Matthew, he would have used it against you.”

  “And second?”

  She swallowed. Her second reason was a lot less altruistic. “Because I need…you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s a long story, but I haven’t had sex in three years. My vajayjay barely had a pulse, and then you came along, and sometimes I get so wet I’m afraid my underwear will slip off. Look, I’m not asking for a happily ever after. I just need a hands-on approach so I can overcome this…whole thing and move on.”

  He scratched his chin. “I heard some pretty strange things from women but this one takes the cake. You want me to teach you how to fuck?”

  “I wanna have sex again. All the way. But I can’t promise it will happen on the first try. If you are willing to help me, I won’t tell Matthew you know that he suspects you. And I will help you find the thief, as long as you know I won’t lie about it. Are you in or are you out?”

  Chapter Six

  “No. I won’t do that,” he managed to say quietly.

  “But you’re Devon ‘The Devil’ Wilder. Rumor has it you sleep with everyone under the sun. Am I not attractive to you?” A wrinkle deepened between her eyebrows.

  For a second, he wished he could just pull her into his arms. He’d give one of his kidneys to tear up that cherry-red dress and fling it to the other side of the room. Screw her against the wall, hard and fast. Deep.

  A surge went through him, and he cursed his throbbing erection. Earlier that day, the surveillance guy had told him there was one number she dialed often, and he had tried it. And, to his surprise and frustration, it had been the office of a shrink specializing in women victims of abuse. How right was it to bring her into his messy life? Whether she lied or not; whether she slept with his brother or not, that woman was broken and he wasn’t the one to fix her. Didn’t know how.

  “That’s not the problem. Have you been sexually abused or assaulted?”

  She surged to her feet. “Is there a freaking sign on my forehead?”

  “What?”

  “How do you know?”

  He walked to his kitchen, and opened the cupboard to get two square glasses. His intention had been for this meeting to be alcohol free. Damn it, he needed every working lucid brain cell he could count on. The idea of a tortured, abused Elena burned a hole in his gut. And right now, alcohol was his only release. “I checked on the numbers you dialed frequently and found Dr. Hodge.”

  “Why did you check my phone records?” she asked, and a second later, she cocked her head to the side, as if figuring out the answer herself. “You didn’t trust me.”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “Is that why you won’t help me with my, er, problem now?” She cleared her throat. “Because you still don’t trust me? Or is it because I’m damaged goods?”

  No. I’m damaged goods. “I’m just not the right type to help you get your mojo back on.”

  “You said it yourself though. Attraction just happens.”

  He grabbed the bottle of bourbon and filled the tumblers generously. “It does. But knowing what you probably went through, I can’t set out to have sex with you and leave you. Wouldn’t be right, even for me.”

  Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes. “That’s bullshit.”

  “Try this.” She needed a boost to cope with the rejection, and so did he.

  Her hand trembled slightly as she received the glass from him, and his heart squeezed like a three-hundred pound bench press sat on it. For the first time in his life, not sleeping with someone he wanted badly was the right thing to do. And the more they deviated from that subject, the better. “How much do you know?”

  “Just about her expertise. I Googled her. Did you know your attacker?”

  She took a swig at the drink, then slammed the glass on the coffee table. “Yes. Too well. He was my ex-husband.”

  His shoulders sagged a notch, as if he had been tossed on the couch. Quietly, he digested her words, and his body kept up with his brain. He stiffened, and curled his fists so hard, his nails bit into his palms. Her ex-husband? “What?”

  The tears ran freely down her reddened cheeks, but she didn’t sob. “I was married for three years. He was the second guy I ever slept with. When we got married, I wasn’t super experienced. He liked to have sex a lot, and I assumed that was normal.”

  Devon took a gulp of his own drink, the flavor scorching his throat. “Enjoying sex is normal.” Judging from the frown on her beautiful face, whatever her husband was into, wasn’t. And he just wished he could punch the dirty bastard.

  “That’s what he kept telling me. First, it was a couple times a day. Then, he wanted more times a day. After a while, it didn’t matter if I said no.”

  He could feel the hot throb in his temples. He looked down at his drink, but this stomach was so damn unsettled he didn’t drink it. “You said no?”

  “A few times I tried. Then I figured I’d just better keep quiet. Sounds stupid, but in the beginning I wasn’t sure what was going on. If it was normal or just a phase. I prayed it was temporary. My parents had been married for over forty years… I stuck by to see if we could make it. I come from a traditional Italian family. I was taught as a child that divorce was the easy way out. God. And you wonder why I needed therapy?” she said, and although she tried to inject some humor at the end, he didn’t miss the nervousness dripping from her voice.

  “Did you talk to someone?”

  She took a swig at the bourbon, and he could tell she wasn’t used to drinking much because she coughed hard. A bit of alcohol dribbled at the corner of her mouth, and she wiped it with her finger. “I didn’t have any friends at the time. I met someone, Kika, who also helped me see that Timothy’s behavior was abnormal. But the other female friends I confided in said I should be lucky he wanted to have so much sex.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said in a low whisper, as if it had been his fault.

  “You don’t understand. He was a sex addict. Whenever he wanted, I had to do it. There was no mood, no romance, nothing. I was just a body for him. He watched porn whenever he wasn’t screwing me. Whenever I said I was sore or hurting, he would tell me to ice it.”

  “Why didn
’t you leave?”

  She gulped down the remaining bourbon, and sat the glass on the coffee table. Then, she sat back down with a sigh, and he imagined the alcohol buzz was getting to her. “I loved him at first. That’s why I married him. Why I stayed? I didn’t want to give up that fantasy…that we were happy. I kept hoping one day he would get better and we would be like we were when we dated. Stupid, I know. I guess I left him too late. One day, I had internal bleeding and…”

  A rush of anger bolted through him. “Tell me where he is. I will kill him,” he said, rubbing his temples, which were about to fucking pop.

  “What? No. That is why I didn’t say anything to my family. My brothers are over protective and I didn’t want any of them to end up in jail.”

  “So that criminal is free?”

  “Somewhat.” She gave him a sad smile. “Trust me, someone with those issues can never be completely free.”

  What kind of silver lining bullshit was that? “That’s poignant, but not fair.”

  She shifted on the couch, fingers drumming on her lap. “I learned to deal with it and move on. That’s why I left New York. It helped me with the healing process.”

  “Your family still doesn’t know?”

  “No. At first, I felt like a failure for asking for a divorce. I got over that, but I can’t go back to where I was emotionally three years ago. I wanna move forward.”

  He swigged another good dose of liquor, but the aftertaste was more like a boost of adrenaline than calming as the bourbon burned his throat. Too intense. “What makes you think you’re ready for sex?”

  Standing, she gazed at him, her coffee-colored eyes wide with hope. “Because ever since I started working for you…I don’t think. That’s the thing. I want to do it. I’ve done enough analyzing in therapy. Now I just feel this…thing,” she said, fanning herself, “that’s truly so new to me it makes me believe I can start over again.” Her voice was filled with such raw emotion, that he fell back as if it was strong enough to punch him.

  He clasped the tumbler. Why mislead her? She deserved everything, and damn it, just months ago he was in an open relationship. They were polar opposites. “I’m flattered, Elena. You are a gorgeous woman. But I’m just not the guy to guide you in that journey.”

  She straightened her shoulders, and stared at him for a second that stretched beyond comfortable. For the first time in his life, he had a hard time holding a stare. Particularly when her eyes gleamed, not with happiness or joy. Did he just hurt her by trying not to hurt her? Shit.

  Out of the blue, she blinked, and fetched her bag from the sofa. “Okay. I guess I’d better get going,” she said in a rush of words.

  “Are you—”

  She strode past him, her heels clunking on the floor. “Don’t worry, Devon. I’m keeping my end of the bargain.”

  He turned to her. “I was gonna ask you if you are okay to drive.”

  “Yes. I’m fine. Bye.” She got to the entrance, and for a while it seemed the only sound besides his racing heart was the clicking of her heels. When he could no longer hear them, he threw his glass against the wall. He had just rejected her, for all the right reasons.

  Getting her out of his head…was a different story.

  ***

  “You okay?” Holly asked. “You’ve barely said a word.”

  Elena managed to smile. Thank goodness she had put on a generous amount of concealer under her puffy eyes that morning. “I’m fine. Just preoccupied with some work stuff,” she said, then bit into the blueberry muffin. If carbs couldn’t help her forget how he rejected her the night before, all was lost.

  Holly took a bite of the breakfast granola bar. “Did you hear anything else about the woman who kissed your boss?”

  “What? No.” She edged closer to her friend, heart pounding. “Why? Have you?”

  “No. Although I ran into Jennifer in the lobby café and had an idea. What if we had whomever we suspect talk to her? She can recognize their voice. And maybe up close—”

  Her heart slammed against her ribcage. She waved her off. “Holly, that’s a silly idea. Trust me, the best thing is to stay as far from Devon’s sexual life as possible.” As per his request. She took another bite of the muffin.

  Holly stuck out her tongue. “You’re no fun.”

  “That seems to be the general understanding.” She glanced at her watch. “Time to go. Talk to you later.”

  On the way back to her desk, she thanked the gods Devon had been busy most of the morning. Keeping a straight face in front of him was a task that even Cate Blanchett wouldn’t manage. Okay. Maybe Cate would.

  Still. Her pulse quickened. Devon had done the right thing last night, just when she had hoped he wouldn’t. What kind of dark twisted bitch had she become? The man wasn’t a bastard. He could have taken advantage of her, but he had said no.

  Which was why she needed to figure out who had, in fact, stolen from the company. In her heart, she just knew it couldn’t have been Devon. Why would he have surveillance get her phone records and investigate her? Because he believed she was the thief. Which, only meant, he wasn’t. Her cell phone buzzed but she ignored it. She got her iPad and typed some questions to ask him, adding that seeing the reports would be ideal.

  Toby. Her friend Janie worked for Toby. Maybe she had noticed something odd in recent weeks? Was asking okay? Nah, she couldn’t put her friend in the middle of all this. She drummed her fingers on the tablet. Enough people were involved already.

  “Still here?” Devon asked, returning to his office from an afternoon meeting.

  “I have something to ask you.” She stood and followed him into his office.

  He started gathering his things, and grabbed his tablet from his black Louis Vuitton messenger bag. He frowned at her. “I already said no.”

  “Oh. No. Nothing like last night,” she explained, waving her hands violently to help make the point. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to see the reports with the fake accounts. Maybe a fresh set of eyes can find something you’ve missed.”

  He stopped what he was doing, and tapped his fingers on his desk. “Okay, but I’ll stay while you take a look. It’s confidential information.”

  “Of course.”

  What did he expect her to do? Run away with the files?

  Either way, he gestured for her to come sit at his oversize leather chair, and flicked his sleek large monitor on. Clearing her throat, she sat on his chair, and a thrill of excitement surged through her.

  She inhaled, and the woodsy notes of his cologne swirled around her. Focus. He leaned over her to type the password, and she turned her face. A bit too late for that, sure, but getting into deeper trouble just wasn’t in the cards.

  The nearness of him, though… She remained still, her palm clenching the arm of the chair. How sad that he didn’t want her…that he had said no to her pitiful attempt at seduction.

  “There you go,” he said. Was it her perception, or was his voice a notch rougher? Didn’t matter. Shaking her head, she glanced at the numbers on the screen.

  “Were you guys able to find out where the money went?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not yet.”

  “Look at the dates and time. They all happened on Tuesdays and Thursdays. At lunch time.”

  “Yeah and?”

  “This one.” She pointed at one of the small printed numbers. “This transaction happened at lunchtime on Tuesday four weeks ago. That’s when we all had cake to celebrate Toby’s birthday.”

  “It still doesn’t mean someone can’t make a click.”

  “I know that. Maybe if we ask for footage from that day, we can see if people who would have access to confidential information look suspicious.”

  “Doesn’t make sense. If someone from a different floor or outside the company did this, as it’s quite possible, they wouldn’t be at the birthday party.”

  “No. But if you attended the birthday party, that clears you 100%. Were you there?”

>   He threw his head back on the chair and sighed. “I think so. A month seems like so long ago. I can call surveillance tomorrow and ask for the tape.”

  “That’s a good start. Meanwhile, I wanna take a look at these some more…”

  For the rest of the day, Elena tried hard to concentrate on work. Holly distracted her with a couple emails regarding who she thought Devon’s mystery girlfriend was. The truth burned at the tip of her fingertips, but she decided to type some advice for her colleague to drop the subject. If only Holly knew that kissing Devon wasn’t all fun and games. At least not to Elena.

  Devon waited until the end of the work day to bring her the files, which she imagined was why he finally had the time to hover rather than leaving her alone with them.

  “Are you done with your chips?” Elena asked, noticing his half empty bag and forlornly digging in hers for the last of the crumbs from the snacks Devon had pilfered from the break room.

  Devon put the bag aside and played with his pen. “Yeah.”

  “Mind if I finish it?” she asked just for the sake of asking, and before he answered she snatched it to her side and grabbed a barbeque chip from the bag. “Yum.”

  He watched her. “Really? You seem more excited about those cheap chips than the oysters last week.”

  She didn’t even try to suppress the laughter floating up her throat. “I guess I’m a cheap date. Not that this is a date, I mean.” She shifted on the chair. “Besides, I’m sure your dates are a lot more sophisticated.”

  “True. Not always so much fun.”

  She took a bite of a chip. “Not according to your ex.”

  He rocked back his chair, and a sigh escaped his lips. Was he tired of talking about that subject in general? She, of course, had never brought it up. Until now. “Touché.”

  She sipped on her Coke. “I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, I never read her interview.” At first, it didn’t seem right to get into someone’s business like that, especially without their approval. And now? It would be plain torture to know about his shenanigans with his ex who reminded her of a young Halle Berry. Yup.