Wicked Game

by Michelle Betham

  “You really thought that night was the end? Once, and it was over? It was only the beginning, Kari.”

  His voice makes me jump, and I swing around to face him. “I’ll ask you again, Joe – what are you doing here? How did you even get in here, this is a private party?”

  “When you want something bad enough …”

  He leaves that sentence hanging, leaves me with no explanation, and I don’t know whether I’m angry; whether I’m excited, scared, I don’t know what I’m feeling.

  “How did you know …? How did you find me?”

  My skin’s clammy, my stomach tight with nerves, tinged with fear, I have no idea who this man is, not really. I have no idea what he wants. Why he’s here.

  “In my line of business, that kind of thing, it’s easy. The internet, it can be a wonderful tool sometimes.”

  “Do you realise how weird that sounds? How creepy?”

  “I’m not stalking you, Kari.”

  “Aren’t you? Then, I don’t understand what you’re doing here …Who the hell are you anyway?”

  He drops his head and laughs quietly, slides his hands into his pockets. And then he raises his gaze and his eyes once more lock on mine. “I’m just a man who was lucky enough to spend time with a woman who fascinated him. A woman he needed to see again.”

  “This is crazy. You need to go.”

  “Look at me, Kari.”

  “Oh no. No. You don’t get to control this … That card, the one I found in the room, the morning after … did you leave it there? Deliberately?”

  He nods, his eyes refusing to leave mine. And I can’t seem to break the stare, even though every fibre of my being wants to.

  “Why?”

  “I wanted you to take it; hoped you’d take it.”

  The way he’s talking, it isn’t making me feel any more comfortable. Nothing about this is comfortable, it’s scaring me.

  “You need to go,” I whisper, my fingers gripping the edge of the desk even tighter.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “This isn’t a game, whoever the hell you are. We’re not playing, not anymore …”

  “I know. This is very, very real.”

  He’s in front of me now, and I don’t even know how I let that happen, how I let him get this close. And before I can say anything else he reaches out, rests his palm against my cheek and I can’t move. It’s like I’m frozen in stone, like his touch has paralysed me in some way.

  “You kept the card, Kari. Right?”

  I don’t reply, I don’t need to. He already knows the answer.

  “You kept it for a reason. Because you couldn’t stop thinking about me. Because you felt something that night, when I touched you. You felt something, I know you did, I felt it too, the exact second my fingers touched your naked skin. A connection. A spark. You kept that card, for a reason. And at some point, you would’ve called me. I just didn’t want to wait, I’m not a patient man.”

  “Don’t do this,” I whisper, finally able to move, my hand rising to cover his; to try and pull it away but all I succeed in doing is cause his fingers to fold around mine. “Please, don’t … you have no idea …”

  “Did it pull you and Noah apart? What we did? What he saw?” He moves closer still, so close his breath hits my skin, and I feel my stomach clench tight. “It can do that, seeing your wife have sex with another man, even if it’s something you think you can handle. Few rarely can.”

  “It didn’t pull us apart. We’re stronger than that.”

  Are we?

  “I love my husband, he loves me …”

  “You came to me because you needed something, right? You needed a fantasy fulfilling, a brief journey into a world few people dare to visit, because they’re scared of the consequences. Of what might happen if they go there. But you – you wanted excitement. Danger. And it felt good, didn’t it? It felt good, when I was inside you.” He moves his head a little closer, leans in to me, his mouth almost touching my neck as he speaks. “When your husband was inside you, and yet, it was my fingers touching you. How good did that feel, Kari?”

  “I want you to go,” I whisper. “Now.” I push him away, brush myself down and I look up, look right at him. “I have no idea why you’re here, but you need to leave me alone.”

  “I don’t think I can do that.”

  “Leave me alone,” I repeat.

  He stands by the door, his hands in his pockets, and he briefly drops his head. Rubs the back of his neck. And then he raises his gaze and stares directly at me, I can’t look away, no matter how much I want to, I can’t. And the power I felt he held over me that night, it’s returning, I can feel it filling the air; fizzing around us.

  “You’re scaring me,” I whisper, even though I’d never meant to say those words out loud. Letting him know I’m scared – that gives him even more power. It makes me vulnerable.

  He shakes his head, comes back over to me, and all I can do is stand there as he rests his hand against my cheek; as his breath dances over my skin, he’s that close again.

  “Don’t be scared. I don’t want you to be scared, that was never my intention.”

  His eyes burn into mine, and I feel weak and dizzy, I don’t want to be here, and yet, I do.

  “I’m not here to hurt you, Kari.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Couldn’t stop wanting you. Again.”

  I grasp his wrist, pull his hand away from my face. “Try harder.”

  I start to walk away, but his voice stops me in my tracks, and I turn back around to face him.

  “What you did – what we did, it can become addictive. I told you that, remember?”

  I look into his eyes, beautiful eyes. Dangerous eyes.

  “You kept that card for a reason, Kari.”

  Maybe he’s right.

  Maybe I did …

  Twelve

  Pushing open the restaurant door I make my way through the deserted dining room to the kitchen out back. It’s almost nine in the morning, and everyone’s busy prepping for lunch service, it’s a familiar sound. Comforting, almost.

  I catch sight of Noah behind the bar, checking through an order of spirits, and for a second or two I just watch him, because even from back here I can see he isn’t really concentrating. He’s looking down at the papers in front of him, but he’s frowning. And then he drops his head and I see his shoulders tense, and I watch as he stands up straight, throws his head back and lets out a long breath, his eyes raised to the ceiling. And those few seconds, they’ve done nothing to ease my fears that something isn’t right. He has things on his mind, and we used to talk. About everything. We never kept secrets, never hid anything, we talked. We’re not talking now, we’re avoiding subjects. Brushing things under the carpet. We’re keeping secrets, both of us, and that scares me. Do I tell him about Joe? Do I tell him he’s here, in the UK? Do I tell him what happened between us, last night? Nothing happened between us. Nothing will …

  I walk towards him, and he senses someone approaching, and the second he sees me his face breaks into a smile, one that, surprisingly, given his body language just now, reaches his eyes. He looks pleased to see me. And I hadn’t actually planned on popping into the restaurant this morning, I just needed to see him. When I got home last night, after the party, he was already asleep, and by the time I woke up he was gone. He was already here, at work, and I needed to see him. To tell him what happened, at the club? Who I saw? Who I spoke to? No. I don’t think he needs to know, because I’m planning on making sure Joe Millar – whoever he is – doesn’t stick around. He’ll be gone, soon.

  “Hey, sweetheart. This is a nice surprise.”

  “I can’t stay, we’ve got a meeting at ten-thirty and I should really have set off before now. The traffic’s always crazy getting into the city at this time of day.”

  A meeting with Joe Millar. A meeting I wish wasn’t taking place, and if I can get to Jenna before Joe a
rrives, I’m going to try my hardest to prevent it. To prevent him from doing whatever it is he’s come here to do, it isn’t right. It isn’t normal. And I’m not comfortable being around him. Not here, not like this.

  Noah comes out from behind the bar and leans back against it.

  “Come here,” he says, and I step into his arms, fall against him as he kisses me. “Everything go okay at the party last night?”

  I nod, playing with the collar of his shirt. I drop my gaze, but he tilts up my chin and makes me look at him. And I feel guilty, for keeping secrets. But nothing happened last night, telling him about Joe is only going to complicate things unnecessarily.

  “You all right? You seem a little – I dunno, distant?”

  So does he, some days. Just then, before he saw me come over he seemed distant. Distracted. We both have things on our minds, and we’re choosing to keep those things to ourselves, and we never do that. That isn’t us … it’s us, now.

  “I’ve just got a lot of work on, that’s all. A lot to get through today, and after a late night last night …”

  I trail off and he kisses me again. And as his mouth touches mine, for the first time I regret what we did. I regret inviting a stranger into our world, for sharing something so intimate with a man who’s chosen to break the rules we put in place for a reason I still don’t understand. A man who scares me, now.

  “Noah, I … Are we okay?”

  He frowns, and I’m not sure where that question came from. I think it’s another of those thoughts I meant to keep to myself, something I said out loud without meaning to.

  “We’re more than okay. Aren’t we?”

  The fact that he had to question that, too, makes me worry. We never felt the need to question anything before and yet, now – now I think it’s something we’re both doing too much. Too often.

  I look up into his eyes, feel his hand press hard against the small of my back, and we both let a moment pass before either of us speaks again.

  “I love you,” I whisper, because I do. Love him. What happened – what we allowed to happen – didn’t change that. But it changed something …

  *

  “What do we really know about him, Jen? I mean, he approaches you in the middle of a party – a private party, one he admitted to gatecrashing – why would he do that?”

  “Because he was desperate to speak to us? We should be flattered, not suspicious.”

  “He shouldn’t have been allowed in. We need to speak to security …”

  “There was no harm done, Kari.”

  “This time.”

  I don’t believe what he’s telling us. His reasons, I don’t believe them. But I do believe that Joe Millar is a very convincing man. Very self-assured, his arrogance is obvious.

  “If anything had happened, that would’ve been on us, Jen. We were responsible for making sure that party stayed private …”

  “Look, he knew it was us who’d organised that party, he’d done his homework, and when he found out we were there, well …” She shrugs and leans back against the table, folding her arms, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looks at me. “He’d had meetings in Newcastle. He was right where we were, and I’m getting that he’s the kind of man who goes for what he wants, no matter what. He doesn’t like to waste time. What’s the problem, Kari? So what if his method of contacting us was a little unconventional? This opportunity could be quite a lucrative one for us. Joe hosts a lot of business events, and now that he’s opening up offices here in the North East, he’s going to be hosting a lot more, right here on our doorstep.”

  “Those offices aren’t opening up just yet, though. Are they?”

  “He’s looking at premises … Kari, I’m not getting why you’re so defensive about this. Did he – I dunno – do something to upset you, when you were over in Norway? Because, that would explain your reaction when I found his business card in your desk.”

  “Of course he didn’t do anything to upset me, and I’m not being defensive …” I turn my head to look over my shoulder, outside into the foyer. Joe’s arrived, he’s at reception, laying his charm on Laura behind the front desk, and I feel my stomach dip. I feel slightly light-headed, and I reach behind me, grabbing onto a chair to steady myself.

  “You okay?” Jenna asks, a concerned edge to her voice.

  “I’m fine. I skipped breakfast, that’s all. Look, Jen, I’m not being defensive, all right? I’m just wary. I mean, he approaches us in a club, tells us he’s thinking about opening offices here …”

  She frowns, and I know I’m not handling this very well, I’m being awkward, and she’s going to want to know why if I continue like this. But I can’t have Joe Millar this close. I can’t have him here, at all. I don’t know what he’s doing, what he’s playing at; what his endgame is, I just know that he isn’t dragging my business into whatever it is he’s got planned.

  “We should at least talk to him,” Jenna says, and her tone – she’s almost ordering me to comply now. I have no choice, as far as the business is concerned, there’s no reason not to listen to what he has to say, even if I don’t believe any of it. And I feel defeat flood my veins, I don’t know what to do next. Excuse myself? Say I don’t feel well? Won’t that just give Jenna another reason to pick up on the way my behaviour changes around Joe? “And you should go grab something from the kitchen before we get started.”

  “I said I’m fine, Jen.”

  “There are some doughnuts on the counter, that should get your blood sugar level right back up.”

  I throw her a look before I leave the room, make my way to the kitchen, and to get there I have to pass the reception desk, where Joe’s still talking to Laura. But as I walk past he briefly shifts his attention, glances quickly at me, long enough for his eyes to meet mine and my stomach to twist itself back up into that familiar knot of nerves.

  I don’t want any doughnuts, I’m not hungry, my blood sugar level is fine. It’s Joe Millar who’s confusing me; destroying my sanity. He’s making me irrational. Putting me on edge. He’s making me remember that night, and I don’t want to remember it. I don’t want to remember how it made me feel – how he made me feel. Not now, not anymore. I need to forget it, remembering is dangerous.

  I take a few minutes to compose myself before I head back to the meeting room, and Joe’s in there now, sitting across the table from Jenna, who seems enthralled by whatever it is he’s telling her. I stand outside for a few minutes, watching him as he talks; the way his face lights up as he speaks, his arms gesticulating wildly around him, whatever he’s talking about he quite obviously feels very passionate about it. Or he’s one hell of a liar.

  Jenna’s eyes catch mine and she beckons me inside, Joe’s head turning as I walk in. He smiles at me, and I need to make this look as normal as I can so I return it. I sit down opposite him and I listen as he continues to talk. He fills me in on what he told Jenna while I was out of the room, and I watch as he clasps his hands together in front of him, his reading glasses perched on the end of his perfect nose, and how I’m keeping it together I have no idea. Whenever his eyes catch mine it sets my heart racing, beating so loud I can’t believe no one else can hear it. When he smiles at me my stomach twists up into a painful knot, my head’s full of nothing but him; his body in mine, his lips on my skin, his fingers playing me. That night haunts me now, what we did. How it made me feel; how he made me feel, I can’t forget it. I should, I want to, but I can’t. And now he’s here, but I need him to go.

  “Kari?” Jenna’s voice rips me from those thoughts and I look at her.

  “Sorry … did you say something?”

  I glance across the table, catching Joe’s eye again, and the corner of his mouth lifts slightly, his smile a small one, and directed solely at me. All it does is unsettle me, and I wonder if he’s doing that on purpose.

  “I’d really like to work with you both,” he says, finally shifting his gaze from me to Jenna. “So, with that in mind, I’d like to make sure we
keep in contact. Although I’m based mainly in Norway and the US, I’m going to be here in the north east of England quite a bit for the foreseeable future. There are things I need to keep an eye on now.”

  I swallow hard, I don’t trust this man. I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t, apart from the fact his company – Millar Readman – that does exist. It’s very real, as far as his business persona is concerned, I know everything. But I don’t know him, and that’s why I don’t trust him. I don’t know who he is, what he wants. I don’t know anything about him, except that, in bed, he’s an artist. How he made me feel that night, that was magical.

  “Kari?”

  Jenna’s voice once more drags me back into the room, I don’t know why I’m thinking about him in that way. Is that what he wants? Of course it is. He’s trying to unsettle me, he’s succeeding, and I want him to stop.

  Blinking rapidly, I quickly try to regain my focus.

  “Last night catching up with you, huh?” Jenna smiles at me, and I smile back, even though I don’t feel much like smiling. I want this man to disappear, but I don’t think he’s going to. And what scares me most is that there are fleeting moments when I don’t want him to leave, because the attraction I feel towards him is too real. Too dangerous. Unwanted. Addictive …

  “Okay, well, I think we’re done here,” Jenna says, pushing her chair back and standing up.

  “We should celebrate.” Joe smiles, standing up too, sliding his hands into his pockets, and my eyes are instantly drawn to his forearms. Strong and slightly tanned, I remember the way those arms held me against him that night. How his hands kept my legs wide apart while his tongue explored me. Tasted me ... “How about dinner, tonight? On me.”

  “Sounds good,” Jenna beams, gathering her things together. “Any preferences, food wise?”