She smiled as if she had a secret, and he wondered if he was part of it. Which was damaging enough.
Wondering had only brought him pain. Wondering if his mother would ever change. Wondering if his father AKA the Sperm Donor would ever step up to the plate. Wondering—
A glow flickered in her eyes. “There you are. Sit.”
Frowning, he pulled the chair and plopped down. The gentleman in him should have waited until she was done and pulled her chair out for her. But she kept dashing in and out of the kitchen, each time returning with something new. The lasagna. Olive oil. Extra Parmesan cheese.
He tapped his fingers on the table. Regina always preferred ordering meals from a known Denver chef. They were delivered to their home, and the amount of calories was displayed on the lid of each small package in cursive writing. Oh, how he hated that damn font.
Elena grabbed his plate and ladled a generous amount of lasagna on it, steam swirling around the pasta as she returned it to him. “Eat. Or like my mom says, mangia.”
Keep your mind on the game, man. “So, does your family pay for all this?” he asked, circling his index finger.
She broke a small piece of bread. “No. I worked in marketing for five years. Three of them in New York.”
“Which agency?”
Elena squared her shoulders, and glanced at him. “Lind & Luz.”
Her former employer had been a super successful marketing agency that was known for a lot of sports advertisement. “You never told me you had that much experience in the field.”
She winked at him. “You never asked, and you weren’t the one who interviewed me when I applied for the position at your company.”
He wondered what other things he would ask and get a direct answer to? She beamed at him, an adorable grin stretched her lips, and the spark reached her eyes. It was like her irises were two huge caramel pools, with flecks of gold glittering inside them.
“You must be really underused as an assistant.” To detract from her magnetizing pull, he cut into his lasagna and brought a bite to his lips. The fresh spices exploded on his palate. He wasn’t a foodie or anything, but even the pasta tasted different. Better.
She watched him swallow in silence, her lips parted. When he helped himself to some more, she shook her head, blinking out of a reverie maybe, and finally said, “I like working for you. I know how good you are.”
He reached for the glass of water. “That doesn’t mean much. It’s a downgrade, and I get that you won’t be an assistant for much longer. You said you did it for Matthew, to have his back because he helped you.”
She nodded.
“How?” he asked, again, the question burning the tip of this tongue.
Playing with the fork, she inhaled. “Three years ago, I still lived in New York City. Matthew and his wife were my neighbors,” she said, and he remembered how Matthew and Sandra lived in New York City for a few years while he helped establish the East Coast offices. “One day, something happened. Tim and I had sex. Well, I don’t know if you’d call it sex. I didn’t protest, because I figured that would be quicker that way. After he left for work, I was in a lot of pain. Turns out I had internal bleeding.”
Her voice wavered for a second, but she continued. The playfulness from earlier vanished, and the sparks in her eyes shifted into gloom. “That’s when I realized my life couldn’t go on as it had. I knocked on Matthew’s door asking for Sandra, but she was away on a business trip. Anyway. Matthew took me to the hospital and literally held my hand throughout the whole ordeal. He helped me get a restraining order against my ex, and set me up at a different apartment while we took care of some bureaucratic things and filed for divorce.”
Internal bleeding. He clenched his hands on the fork so hard, he could swear it was bending under his anger. What kind of sick son of a bitch submitted his woman to something so sordid? If he ever met this guy, he would kill him. Frustration floated up his throat, and he tasted bile. “I’m sorry, Elena. How much longer did you stay in New York?”
“Not long. I quit my job and came here to get as far as possible from my old life. I did therapy, and worked at a smaller marketing company. A year later, Matthew and Sandra moved back, as he returned to Colorado to help Wilder & Co. expand.”
“Why Denver? Did Matthew have anything to do with your decision?”
“I guess I visited the city before and liked it… and yes, he and Sandra talked about it so much I kind of felt like giving it a try. But, for the first year, I didn’t know anyone here.”
“That must have been tough.”
“It was a good period of self-discovery. I needed to be on my own.”
He loosened the grip on the fork at last. “Why did Matthew do all this for you?” The question escaped his lips before he caught up with common sense. Sensitivity wasn’t his forte, but neither was naiveté. Why would Matthew be so attentive and helpful to a complete stranger, when he was married? If Matthew were into doing the right thing, he wouldn’t have hired someone to snitch on his half-brother. He wouldn’t have ensured Devon was bullied when they went to the same high school.
“Because he’s not just this super ambitious dick you envision.”
He took another bite of his food. Blood pumped thick in his veins. He’d like to believe that, sure. Well, perhaps he did. Matthew wasn’t a dick to everyone. “Agree to disagree.”
She grabbed the glass of water, but held it under her lips as if thinking of what to say. “Why don’t we talk about TV shows?”
“I don’t watch any.”
She took a swig of water. “Then let’s talk about your club. I’ve never been there.”
“We’ll remedy that.”
“Ha. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not much of a clubber.”
He laughed, and imagined her, all prim and proper, in his upscale venue. Thankfully, they changed the subject, and when they were done with the food, she started to remove dishes from the table and he found himself loading the dishwasher while she cleaned the lasagna pan by hand.
Helping her should have been business as usual. This felt like what normal, loving couples did all the time. Not that he had any experience in that area.
Pushing that thought away, he motioned to put a dish inside the stainless dishwasher, but she moved at the same time and their arms brushed against each other. She glanced down at them first, then as she straightened up, so did he. His pulse spiked, and that familiar, annoying stir whirled through him again. The I-want-Elena-way-too-much warning.
Clearing his throat, he realized his lips were dry, even though he had just finished drinking water and wine. Damn it. But he had to have her—couldn’t get enough of her. Devon scooped Elena up and put her on the granite counter top, and she wrapped her legs around him.
Devon kissed the sweep of her neck, and felt her stiffening against him, her hands traveling up in his body. “You are fucking amazing,” he said, and breathed in her crazy sexy scent.
“Apparently so,” she whispered, nudging his cock.
“I wanna make you feel good, babe.” So good.
“I’d say mission accomplished.”
Choking back a laugh, he caressed her cheeks. The spontaneous tenderness surprised even him. “Hardly.”
“No pun intended.”
He nipped her chin. “Shut up, Elena.”
“Make me.”
No one could ever accuse him of turning away from challenges. With that in mind, he covered her lips with his, and cupped her face, the desire to make love to her burning through his veins like a raging fire. She stroked his tongue with hers, and her hands linked behind his neck, bringing him closer. A couple of moans formed in her throat, and he swallowed them. The atmosphere shifted around them, and quickly the homemade meal vibe shifted into a much less wholesome energy.
He deepened the kiss, barely able to breathe himself. She squeezed his shoulders, then her fingers slid down his bare back. A thread of shivers followed the path her nails trailed.
&nb
sp; Lowering his hands, he groaned, and then pulled up the hem of her dress. The second he touched her inner thigh damp with her juices, his groin stirred. He fought the urge to flip her and swat her ass. Screw her hard, while she screamed his name. Damn it. She wasn’t like the women he typically dated—there was a sweet vulnerability about the way she kissed him, moaned, fondled him. He had to go slow, even if it killed him.
“When I’m with you, I feel like I’m melting. Isn’t that weird?” she said between kisses, in such a carefree way, that his heart squeezed and an unfamiliar ache lodged in his throat. Shit. He had to focus on fucking her, nothing more.
“That’s weird.” He inserted his finger into her, and she gasped. Her slick walls clenched around him, and he could feel the pulse from her center of nerves. Flicking it with his thumb, he decided to do some exploring.
She bucked against him, rocking onto his hand. Damn, that sensual shit turned him on like crazy. He circled his fingers into her, working his thumb harder. Faster. His cock swelled in anticipation, and she mewled. The soft sound was like the missing ingredient for a secret recipe.
He drove his fingers in and out of her. His movements more intense. Soon, she quivered around his hand, her moans filling the air and setting his heart in a wild race. He kissed her—a long, passionate kiss that spelled trouble. Damn it, she was trouble. For how long would he fool himself? She wasn’t just a mystery he didn’t crack. Elena was—
She panted. “I want you inside me.”
“I am,” he said, and moved his fingers inside her pussy.
She chuckled. A hearty, happy sound. “Your…”
“My cock?”
She licked her lips, and a lovely shade of pink spread across her cheekbones. “Your cock,” she said as if she was saying it for the first time, and peered at him. A glint in her eyes hinted at the schoolgirl who had just gotten in trouble with the principal. Dirty talking wasn’t her thing. He needed to fix that.
For now…he’d address a much more urgent matter.
Chapter Ten
“What does this mean?” Matthew asked the next morning, when the video stopped playing. He handed Elena the cell phone, and she tossed it inside her bag.
She looked around the crowd inside the coffee shop a block away from the company. Most of them stood in line to order a lunch to go, but a few sat around the scattered tables and munched on salads and sandwiches. She only recognized a few Wilder and Company employees in the room. Even then, she didn’t know them well.
“This means Devon was at Toby’s birthday celebration at the exact time one of those transfers happened. He couldn’t have done it. He’s not your thief.”
“Online transfers can be scheduled. This doesn’t prove anything.” He bit into his ham and Brie sandwich.
She shuffled from one foot to another. Choosing to stand while he sat on a stool had been the right decision. Even the chicken salad she ordered remained half eaten. “Matthew, you are stubborn.”
“How do you know the exact moment the transfers were made? I never showed you any papers.”
Oh shit. She lifted the iced tea to her lips, and took a big swig to buy her a few seconds. “Does it matter? You told me to dig, and find stuff. Now you’re questioning my tactics?”
His green eyes darkened, and he leaned forward. “You told me you weren’t going to snoop wherever his things were concerned.”
“Exactly. I do think this has a lot to do with the company, though.”
Reaching for the napkin on the counter, he flashed her a suspicious glance. “How did you get access to those files, Ells?”
She smoothed her hand over her ponytail. “Doesn’t matter. My point is, Matthew, you’re wasting your time if you focus your hunt for the criminal on Devon. He’s not your guy.”
Matthew ran a hand down his face. “Is he your guy?”
A lump lodged in her throat. And a hot throb followed. “What?”
“You keep defending him. What’s going on?”
No. More. Lies.
She glanced around to make sure no one would hear them. Buck up, Elena. Staying true to both brothers and not implicating either of them was a challenge. Staying true to herself…a done deal. “I was the one he kissed at the park,” she said, and lifted her chin. Who cared if her blood ran cold?
Matthew crushed the paper napkin. “I knew it. I knew he wasn’t going to keep his hands off of you.”
She drew back. “You…knew it?”
He nodded, and straightened his tie.
“Was that the reason you insisted I help you with this? Because you wanted him to come on to me, then I’d report back and he would lose his job or be dropped from the race?” If she thought her blood ran cold a second ago, now it had iced into an arctic glacier. Had it been a game to her supposed friend all along?
“I expected him to make a pass at you, yes. But I didn’t expect you to go along with it.”
She slapped his face, hard. “How could you do this to me? After all I’ve been through with my ex? How could you want to throw me into the arms of a guy you think is a prick, a thief?” Elena kept her voice low, but she didn’t bother to hide the venom boiling beneath the surface. “You are a first-class jerk, Matthew. And a crappy friend. After everything I’ve been through—you still wanted me to work for Devon, use me as bait, when you believe Devon is a bona fide whorebag.” And she believed Matthew was wrong about his half-brother. After all, Devon had been way more considerate to her than any man she’d ever known.
Matthew peered around, and touched his cheek where her open palm had landed. Of course her hand ached, and there was not even a scratch on his smooth brown skin. “Calm down,” he said, urgency dripping from his voice.
She took a second to study their surroundings. A few curious patrons watched them, but the moment her gaze challenged them to keep observing, they turned their faces and pretended to go back to whatever they were doing. Drinking coffee, reading, typing on laptops.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like that. I told you who he was. You weren’t supposed to accept his advances or encourage him. You aren’t getting involved with him, right? Devon trying to come on to you is enough. We can go to Imani and tell her what happened.”
“No. If we go to Imani, I will tell her the whole thing. I’ll tell her that you schemed for this to happen from the beginning, and you had me work under him so I could spy. How do you think that will make you look?”
“Why would you do that? I thought we were friends.”
“So did I. I will stick around because now I am invested in finding out who stole from the company,” she said, leaving out she had promised Devon. “I’ll save you some time from snooping around some more, Matthew. I slept with Devon. It was my choice, my idea, and I won’t lie about that. I experienced not having a say in sex for too long to lie about it. If you report him about sleeping with me, I’ll tell the whole truth.”
“You slept with him?” Matthew’s eyes widened. “In all the time I have known you, you have never even dated. How would I know you would fall for his game?”
“I guess you don’t know everything. And, besides what you may think—that he’s this slut, inconsiderate bastard… He didn’t force me to do anything I didn’t want,” she said.
His jaw clenched. “Bullshit. He manipulated you into thinking you wanted him. The same way he manipulated my mom into accepting him in our household as a teenager, after his mother abandoned him.”
A cold shiver went through her, and she folded her arms, even though the heater worked efficiently. Devon never spoke much about his mother… She slid off the stool. “I don’t know what’s worse. You patronizing me and saying I can’t make my own choices, or you thinking your strong willed mother needed to be manipulated to do the right thing.” She clenched her tote hard. “I never thought I’d say this, Matthew, but now I understand why Sandra left you.” Throwing hurtful words like rocks at a river wasn’t her routine. But how else could she express her angry sense of betrayal? Sh
e glanced at him, and he opened his mouth but hesitated. With a nod, she willed herself to walk away.
***
Still mad at me? Listen, we need to talk later.
Elena glanced down at the message from Matthew.
What do you think? She typed it, but found herself erasing letter by letter until a blinking cursor stared back at her. A headache had bugged her the moment she had dashed out of the café and crossed the street after lunch.
Now, trying to get some work done at her desk, she glanced at Devon’s empty chair. Ever since he’d left her apartment, in the wee hours of the morning, she had pondered. Did she know what she was getting into? No, and for the first time in her life it felt right. She wanted him, for as long as she could have him, to help her explore a side of herself that was finally blooming.
How could she not? For the first time, she had been able to let go and not think of her failed marriage and Timothy’s sex addiction—of how she didn’t understand it then, and how he probably didn’t, either. He had masturbated himself raw once. Who did that for fun? Although, did that make him any less guilty?
The phone rang, and she picked it up on the second ring. “Devon Wilder’s office.”
“Why haven’t you called us back, bambina?” her mother asked on the other end of the line. “I have been trying to call you for a couple days.”
Elena bit back a smile. Whenever she heard her mother’s voice, it was hard not to be in a good mood. There was a musicality to Arietta Moretti’s drawl that shrank the distance every time they chatted. “Sorry, Mama. I’ve been busy.”
“Busy, busy, busy.” She could picture her dark haired mother shaking her head and rolling her soulful eyes. “I can’t wait for you to come home. I miss you.”
She smiled. “I miss you too.”
“Your brother told me Timothy will attend the party.”
Elena breathed into the phone, unsure of what to say. With her free hand, she rubbed her eyes.
“Are you okay with it? We don’t want any stress.” Any stress for her, or the engagement party? Elena bit back the bitterness forming in her throat. No. It had been her decision to handle things on her own regarding her divorce, and to hide from her family the real reasons why she left Timothy. Making a big deal now was useless. Moving away from them, and moving on had been her strategy. Why mess with it now?
Accidentally Seduced (The Naked Truth Series Book 3) Page 9