Always Mine (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 1) (5 page)

“It’s Asher Barrington. Open the door,” Asher ordered.

Emily whipped her hand away from the intercom. She brought a hand to her mouth.
How did he know I’d be here?
She leaned her back against the door.
Okay, stay calm. How doesn’t matter. He’s here. Maybe he wants to say he’s had a change of heart.
She pressed the speaker on the intercom again. She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. “I told you we have nothing to talk about unless you’ve changed your mind.”

His tone remained infuriatingly authoritative. “I won’t discuss this while standing out here.”

Let me in. Let me in. Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin.
She covered her mouth to stifle the nervous laughter her thought had inspired. He wasn’t a big bad wolf preying on her. He probably wanted to huff and puff and tell her again how important he was. She pressed the button to open the outer door then rushed to the hall mirror. She hadn’t put on makeup, and her hair was tied back in a ponytail. She looked away and told herself it didn’t matter. He wasn’t attracted to her nor did she want him to be.

She opened the door before he could knock and hoped that was a power move. Celeste’s apartment was on the third floor of a building without an elevator.
Would seeing him reveal a slight weakness, like being slightly winded, be too much to ask
? He wasn’t. Asher was a man in his prime. She hadn’t thought it was possible for him to look better than he had the first time she’d seen him, but khaki pants and a crisp white collared shirt accentuated the golden flecks in his hazel eyes.

She sternly reminded herself she didn’t like him and forced a polite smile. “Come in, Mr. Barrington.”

He stopped at the door and leaned down, close enough she could smell the light, masculine cologne he wore. “Asher.”

Emily narrowed her eyes and said nothing. She stepped back into the apartment, but he didn’t follow. He placed one hand on the doorframe beside his head and challenged her without saying a word. There it was, the cocky confidence she’d witnessed the first time they’d met. Emily was tempted to slam the door in his face, but she wanted to hear what he had to say about the property more than she wanted that one moment of pleasure. “Asher.”

He lowered his arm, smiled smoothly, and stepped through the doorway. Emily closed the door firmly behind him. He took a moment to look around, then said, “Nice place.”

“I’ll tell my friend you think so.”

He pinned her with his dangerously sexy eyes. “I’ve heard good things about your Ms. Smithfield’s start-up ad agency. My company is always looking for a fresh voice.”

Oh, that’s low. Does he really think I’m that easy to manipulate?
Emily waved a hand toward the kitchen area. “I’ll pass that on to Celeste as well. I would offer you a drink, but I’m sure you’re too busy to be staying long.”

Asher walked past Emily and sat down on the couch. “I took the day off so we could spend it together.”

Emily clasped her hands in front of her and tried not to betray her shock. She walked over to a chair and sat down if only to get off her shaky legs. Asher Barrington took a day off?
And he wants to spend it
 . . . “Together?”

He looked as if he were about to smile but didn’t. He crossed his feet at his ankles. “I’ve decided to give you a chance to convince me your project is worth the loss of time and money my company will incur if we walk away from Welchton.”

Emily’s stomach churned nervously. “How?”

He raised one eyebrow. “That part is up to you.”

Emily’s eyes flew to his and a crazy thought came to her. For just a moment she thought he might be flirting with her. But that would mean he was attracted to her, and he’d given her no reason to believe that. Emily swallowed hard and stood. “If you’re suggesting . . .”

“I’m not, but I’m flattered your mind went there.” Asher’s voice deepened to a tone that was hot as hell, even though he was essentially mocking her.

With her face flaming with embarrassment, Emily chose anger over the confusing reaction her body was having to the mere suggestion of anything happening between them. “Is this a joke to you? Because it isn’t to me.”

Asher stood and closed the distance between them. He was so close Emily could see the flecks of green in his eyes. “I’ve never been more serious. You’re an interesting woman, Emily Harris. I find it refreshingly difficult to anticipate your next move. We may be on opposing sides of this issue, but we don’t have to be.”

The air between them sizzled with a sexual tension that shook Emily. She hadn’t allowed herself to see him as more than a threat to her museum. Suddenly he was also a man, a very, very attractive one.
No. Don’t let him confuse you.

He raised a hand to her face and ran a finger lightly along the line of her jaw. Emily gasped and stepped back, breaking the contact instantly. The brief touch sent a shiver of excitement through her; it scared her.

Of all the ways she’d thought she might lose to him, she hadn’t considered this one. “The only way we could be on the same side is if you relocate your facility.”

“Let’s start with our more immediate problem.”

Emily refused to retreat again. She raised her chin and asked, “And what is that?”

“There is no way in hell I will allow you to spend the weekend with my parents. Before I leave, you will call them and bow out of going with them tomorrow.”

Allow me? Who does he think he is?
“Or?”
I can’t believe I just asked that.

“Don’t test me on this, Emily.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” That much was true. Fear was far from what she was feeling in response to his close proximity. Her body was humming with an anticipation she couldn’t deny. She reminded herself he was a self-absorbed ass, but her libido didn’t care.

“You should be.”

Emily searched his face for a hint that he was joking, but he held her eyes with deadly calm. In a voice barely above a whisper she asked, “Do you feel powerful when you threaten women?”

His eyes narrowed. “No one uses my family to manipulate me.”

Emily looked away.
Touché.
“I didn’t have a choice.”

He stepped closer and lowered his face to hers; the heat of his breath warmed her ear. “I’m giving you one now. Take it.”

Emily turned to look at him again and wished she hadn’t.
Take it?
His husky reply had her head racing with thoughts she didn’t want to deal with right then. She should be angry with him. She told herself to focus her energy on figuring out how to get him out of the apartment. All it took, though, was another look into those amazing hazel eyes of his and she was wondering what he would do if she leaned forward and brushed her lips over his.
Stop.
She gave herself an inner shake.
What is wrong with me?
“How do I know I can trust you not to walk out of here as soon as I make that call?”

“You can’t, but it’s the only way you’ll have a chance of getting what you want.”

Emily turned away from him and picked up her phone. With distance between them, she was able to think straight again. However it was happening, he was finally willing to at least consider the importance of her project. She had to believe that meant he’d begun to waver on his stance. “Promise me something first.”

He neither agreed nor refused her request. He merely held her eyes and waited.

I hope I know what I’m doing.
“Promise you’ll see my museum before you make your decision.”

He looked mildly surprised by her comment but inclined his head in agreement.

With hands she fought to steady, Emily dialed Sophia Barrington’s number.

Asher watched Emily
as she exchanged pleasantries with his mother. His attraction to her wasn’t a surprise to him. He’d spent the last few days thinking about her. What he hadn’t expected, though, was how intense that attraction was. He wanted her right then, right there. Her resistance to the idea only increased his anticipation of what he considered inevitable.

He would have her.

Emily was a distraction that couldn’t have come at a worse time. Even with the well-paid contact he now had in Trundaie, the outcome there was uncertain. He’d hired extra security, put the facility on high alert, and was in the process of hiring informants in the outlying community. His physical presence shouldn’t be necessary. His team had initiated similar security protocols in the past. He would videoconference with the site supervisor, ensure they had what they needed, and circle back to them after the weekend. Two days off the grid wouldn’t make a difference, but it would give Asher time with Emily.

He couldn’t imagine it would take more than a weekend to get her out of his system. He’d spend the weekend enjoying her hot little body, use his time in the area to find a suitable alternate location for her museum, and fly out to Trundaie on Monday. He sent a text to his pilot with instructions to meet him at the airport then a message to his driver to pull up to the front of the apartment building.

Emily ended her call, placed the phone on the arm of the couch, and asked, “Satisfied?”

Not yet.
“Are you still packed?”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

“My driver is waiting downstairs. We fly out in an hour.”

Emily shook her head. She looked adorably innocent and confused. “We? I didn’t say I’d go anywhere with you.”

He almost smiled at how easy the win had been. He had no doubt she’d be in his bed by nightfall. “If you want me to see this museum of yours, I have a limited window of opportunity before I need to leave the country.”

She chewed her bottom lip before answering and looked around the room. “I’ll need a few minutes to gather my things.” She rushed around the apartment, tossed some items into her purse, then disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a small overnight bag.

He put out his hand for the bag. “Ready?”

Emily searched his face for a long moment but held her bag tightly in her hands. “I have to be, right? Just don’t forget your promise.”

Asher frowned. There was a glimmer of hope in her eyes, and he felt he needed to address it. “Emily, going with you to New Hampshire doesn’t mean I’ll change my mind.”

She smiled at him, the first genuine smile she’d given him, and her beauty rocked him back onto his heels. “I know, but it means you might.”

Asher opened the door to the apartment then followed Emily into the hallway and down the stairs. The triumph from a few moments earlier had been replaced by a conflicted feeling he had trouble interpreting.

He wanted her and everything was lining up for that to happen. He was poised for a complete win, but it felt wrong. He watched her hand her luggage off to the driver and frowned again. She was a proud little thing.

He guided her into the back of the sedan and blamed his mood on a lack of sleep the night before. He wasn’t the type of man to second-guess a decision or to be overly concerned with how his actions made others feel. For as long as he could remember, all that had mattered was winning. He didn’t know what to do with whatever was robbing him from enjoying his victory.

They spent the first few minutes of the ride in strained silence before Asher said, “I’ve never heard of a museum for the blind. How did you decide to build one?” Although he had extensive knowledge of her background from the file he’d received on her, he wanted to hear it from her.

Emily turned in her seat to face him and love shone in her eyes as she spoke. “My grandfather was an artist. He was never famous, but many people in town had his paintings in their homes. He also worked as a carpenter so he could build my grandmother the house of her dreams. Other homes in the area may rival it for size, but not in beauty nor in heart. His love for her is in the detailed woodwork and the stained-glass windows depicting her favorite birds. He and my grandmother collected artwork from around the world, not because it was worth anything, but simply in celebration of its beauty. She died giving birth to my mother. I can only imagine how he felt when he discovered his only child was blind. My mother’s fondest memories were when he would take paintings off the wall and describe them to her as she touched them. It was what inspired her to paint.”

The emotion Emily freely displayed made Asher feel unsettled. He didn’t know what to do with the feelings they pulled at within him, so he pushed his reaction aside and focused on the facts of her story. He tried but had a hard time imagining how anyone could paint if they couldn’t see. His doubt must have shown because Emily leaned toward him and nodded. “I know what you’re thinking—a blind painter. Impossible. It’s not. My mother’s work is proof that when you want something badly enough anything is possible. She pushed the definition of art to a new level. What is a painting? If it were simply an exact replica of what we see then all paintings would look like photos. Computers could create better than the human hand. No, paintings are a physical expression of how the artist feels and sees the world. Some try to define painting as a purely visual representation. My mother argued that people can experience beauty as surely with their fingertips as they can with their eyes. My museum is not the only one of its kind, but it’s my tribute to my mother and grandfather. They’re both gone now, but what they taught me lives on in me, and it’s something I want to share with others.”

Asher looked out the window of the vehicle briefly. He’d never had much appreciation for art beyond the investment value of a few choice pieces he’d acquired along the way, but he was moved by the story of Emily’s family. That didn’t mean he would let her attachment to a particular plot of land sway him into relocating his research facility, but he would look into the cost of moving the house instead of demolishing it.

When he looked back at Emily, she was flushed and clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to go on and on like that.”

Instinctively he reached out and took her hand. “It’s a beautiful story.”

Her eyes rounded as she looked down at their linked hands, but she didn’t pull away. “I hope so. I plan to make it part of the tour when the museum opens.”

The attraction from earlier was back, made exquisitely more intense from the feel of her hand in his. He turned it over, caressing each of her fingers with his thumb, one at a time, slowly. Her breathing deepened, and he knew their closeness was affecting her as much as it was him. He didn’t want to talk about what stood between them anymore. He wanted to taste her.