Beyond Bliss (19 page)

“Thanks for answering all of my questions about what happened in Hawaii. You know they say the best trait of a lawyer is the ability to deliver messages in a succinct manner.”

The beginnings of a low scream formed in her throat, but Tyrone quickly escaped.  He gave himself a pat on the back after he’d taken a few steps down the hallway.

Thank goodness he’d had the foresight to close her office door. That woman could shriek like it was nobody’s business.

*****

After she’d composed herself, she took a healthy sip of her cappuccino and dialed Liz, who greeted her cheerfully.

“What’s cookin’ good-lookin’?”

“This is a huge disaster. I’m in so much trouble,” she groaned.

“You’ve been back a total of two days. How much damage could you have done?”

“I think people know about me and Lucas,” she whispered, even though there was no one else in her office and the door was shut.

“Speak up, I can’t hear you.”

“Ha-ha. You can hear me just fine. I’m not going to scream an announcement about my love life to the world, Liz.”

Liz was silent on the other end of the line.

“What? Are you still there?”

“You said love life,” Liz said quietly.

“Huh? So?” Confused, she waited for Liz to respond while she kept an eye on her inbox. Three new messages within the last thirty seconds. One marked “Urgent – RE: Merger” from one Lucas Sinclair.

“Ugh, I don’t have time right now, something’s going on with the merger, and Lucas needs me.”

“Drinks at The Perfect Martini at 7:30 sharp. If you’re not there, I am coming to the office, and I will drag you out by your hair,” Liz threatened.

“Fine, fine,” she muttered. “I’ll see you later. Love you.”

After Liz said goodbye, she hung up the phone and clicked into her email. Seeing Lucas’s name in bold print sent a tiny jolt of electricity through her.

Stupid woman. Stupid, stupid woman.

A few seconds ticked by while she waited for the email to load. Words in bold, italicized print stared back at her:

CONFIDENTIAL CORRESPONDENCE

Ms. Harlow,

There has been an urgent development for which I need you to help me address immediately. Due to the highly sensitive nature of this matter, please keep this to yourself. Additionally, I am concerned about information leaking to the wrong ears, so we will conduct the meeting offsite. A car is waiting outside of the building to take you to the meeting location. The meeting will begin promptly at 11 AM. Please arrive promptly.

Regards,

Lucas Sinclair

CEO

What?

She frowned at the screen as she reread the message several times. She’d pored over the contracts endlessly with a fine-toothed comb. There should be absolutely nothing that would throw a wrench into the acquisition unless Kai was hiding something big, and after all the due diligence they’d done, that was impossible.

Right?

Doubt and worry nagged at her until a meeting reminder sounded on her computer. It was 10:45 AM, fifteen minutes before her meeting with Lucas. She glanced at the slim gold watch on her wrist to confirm the time, before she grabbed several files off her desk and tossed them in her bag.

She bolted out of her office, passing Tyrone at his desk. She stopped for a moment and turned back to face him.

He just stared at her, an expectant expression on his face.

“Need to run to an offsite meeting,” she rushed out. Please hold my calls and text if anything urgent comes up.”

He just winked at her. “Uh huh,
sure
girlfriend. Have fun,” he called out after her.

Stupid Tyrone
.

Her assistant was definitely one to scandalize even the most innocent of meetings. She wiped the sour thought from her mind and pushed the button to the bottom floor. The two minutes it took to get to the ground level felt like forever as she ran through all of the various scenarios of what could be going on with the deal. She’d already done so much work, spending the week prior reviewing employment contracts for staff that would be located in different countries to ensure that the terms of employment were in accordance with local law and regulation.

If the deal fell through now, at the eleventh hour, it would be disastrous not just for her and all the hours of work she’d put in, but Lucas would be furious.

In front of the high rise, his driver, Harry, stood in front of a parked black town car.

“Miss Harlow,” he greeted.

Her lips turned upward in a slight smile. “Sophie, please, Harry.”

He simply tipped his hat at her and opened the door to the backseat. Harry had driven them to several meetings across the city, and even though she insisted he call her by her first name, the stoic driver refused.

She buckled her seat belt and pulled out a thick file as the car began to move. “Harry, where is this meeting? I have to be there by 11.”

“We’re going to Le Parker Meridien, Miss Harlow. It shouldn’t be more than a five minute drive.”

She barely paid attention to his words, only focusing on the fact that she would be in time for the meeting. Even though she had every annoying word of the contract memorized, she started flipping through the pages scanning for anything that could give a clue as to what had gone wrong. She’d barely scanned the fourth page of the contract when the car stopped.

She slipped the files back into her bag when Harry opened the door for her. He took her bag and extended a hand to help her out of the car.

“Thank you, Harry.”

He nodded, unsmiling, but his rheumy blue eyes were bright as he pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “Details regarding your meeting, Miss Harlow.”

She shook her head exasperatedly at him, but shot him a wry grin all the same. “Thanks again, Harry. Will you be here once the meeting is over?”

“Mr. Sinclair will call me when you are ready to be picked up.”

Minutes later, she passed through the majestic entrance of the hotel juggling her bag all the while trying to open the envelope.

She stopped in her tracks when the contents were finally revealed.

A key card for a room and a small piece of heavy, vellum paper. The numbers “917” scrawled in bold handwriting she recognized as Lucas’s.

Anxiety and anticipation fluttered low in her belly as a twinge of annoyance pinched her nerves. When she finally saw Lucas, she was going to give him a piece of her mind about all this cloak and dagger bullshit. In the age of technology, he could have texted her to set her mind at ease. At the rate all of this was going, she was bound to have a head full of gray hair by the time she finished working for him.

When she reached the ninth floor, she stalked over to the room, her hand raised and ready to knock on the door when she remembered she had a key. Cursing under her breath, she pulled it out of her jacket pocket and shoved it into the slot.

At the beep, she turned the knob and stepped into the room.

Ordinarily, she would have taken a moment to appreciate the beauty of the room, a lovely suite decorated in shades of white and cream. Instead, her eyes focused in on a black leather briefcase atop a desk in the corner of the room.

What the hell?

She glanced down at her watch.

11:01 AM.

He was late.

Seemed like she was going to give him a piece of her mind about more than just shrouding business in mystery.

She walked over to the briefcase.

To open or not to open?

Curiosity got the better of her, and she tried to flip the latches on the side open, only to realize that it was locked.

A beep sounded behind her, and she whirled around just as he stepped into the room.

He stood in the dim doorway, dressed in dark gray wool slacks and a crisp white shirt, the top button undone. No suit jacket or tie. His dark eyes gleamed, and she could see the tic in his jaw pulse, a clear sign he was angry about something.

She bit her lip nervously. She’d screwed something up. That had to be it. Even though he couldn’t get enough of her in their bedroom activities, she wasn’t foolish enough to assume that he would be tolerant of any incompetence on her part.

Heat literally vibrated off his skin, washing over her in waves.

Her mouth went dry.

Everyday Lucas Sinclair was sexy but a dangerous Lucas Sinclair set her panties on fire.

She desperately wished for a way to smack herself. Apprehension and arousal coursed through her system, setting every sensitive nerve ending in her body on edge. Reason number one million and one that whatever it was they had going on between them was a bad, bad idea.

“Aren’t you going to say something Miss Harlow?” he asked, drawing his words out slowly –almost deceptively casual.

There was a frog in her throat. Either that, or her throat muscles were constricting so much so that speaking normally was an impossible feat. She opened and closed her mouth several times before she shut her eyes, momentarily escaping his gaze.  

Focus Sophie.

Focus.

She repeated the words several times; enough to where she almost started to feel better. It was even possible that it wasn’t due to an error or oversight on her part. Anything could have happened. After all, he hadn’t reamed her in the message; he’d simply asked for her help. Just because he was breathing fire right now did not mean that he was breathing fire at her.

Right.

As soon as she opened her eyes and met his intense stare, her resolve faded. “You asked for my help with an urgent development in the merger. What can I do?”

Shit, her voice sounded shaky and hoarse even to her own ears.

He leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms. The slash of one arrogant brow lifted. “Do you think you have an idea of what could have possibly happened?”

Her tongue anxiously swept across both of her lips as she once again mentally pored through anything and everything related to the merger. Finally, she shook her head. “I don’t know, Lucas. If I missed something or messed something up, I’m so so—“

He held a hand up and she halted mid-apology. “Miss Harlow, please stop with your apologies. You need to see something. Sit down in the chair.”

Pulse racing, blood rushing through her veins, she turned around and slipped into the cushioned chair next to the desk. She was about to turn in the chair to face him when he spoke.

“No,” he said sharply, his voice cutting through the air like a swift knife. She stilled in the chair and stared straight ahead. In the next moment, he was behind her. There was no obvious indication, but she could
feel
the warmth radiating from his nearness.

Her mind raced with possibilities, but nothing prepared her for when his firm lips brushed against her ear and his arm reached around her to play with the numbers on the briefcase lock.

She stared at those firm, masculine fingers and shivered as she recalled exactly how capable his hands were. Her thoughts were interrupted when his other arm reached around her and settled on the opposite latch on the side of the case. She felt the rush of wet between her thighs even as a sense of foreboding settled over her.

His fingers pushed each latch outward, and all she could do was stare at the briefcase, unlocked but now open.

“Close your eyes, Miss Harlow,” he whispered against her ear.

She was breathing heavy now, as that wondrously languorous feeling seeped through her body as his command melted her confusion and any trace of resistance. Without thinking, her eyes drifted shut as he wove his spell over her body with only his harsh breath on the sensitive skin of her ear and the nearness of his body.

“Do you have any idea what this briefcase contains?” he asked, nipping her ear sharply when she failed to answer.

“No,” she breathed, but her curiosity was piqued enough to lift her eyelids open.

“No. Keep them closed,” he commanded.

How he even knew what she’d been about to do was a mystery, but she obeyed.

“Put your hand on the top half of the briefcase,” he instructed, his voice all gravel and heat.

Once more, she followed his commands.

“Lift it open.”

Without her sight, her hands patted around the table until each of her hands held a corner of the top. Slowly, she pushed it up. Mid-way through the rise, his hands covered each of hers, helping her push the lid to where it rested adjacent against the bottom.

He kept his hands over hers and guided one of them into the briefcase. Her hand landed on something soft and silky, and she inhaled sharply.

“What’s?—“

“No questions, Sophie.” His tone was hard and brooked no refusal.

She was simply curious, that was the only reason she kept her mouth shut. She wanted to see where he would go next.

It had nothing to do with how a simple command or touch from him turned her body into a puddle.