CATCH (The Billionaire's Rules, Book 14) (4 page)

* * *

W
hen she awoke later
that night, Brayden wasn’t in bed. At first, she thought he must have gone to the bathroom.

But then she turned over and saw that he was standing in front of the window, staring out at the city. The dim glare of light reflected back on him just enough to light his face in profile.

She could see that his expression was not happy.

He looked grim, drawn. He stood there, looking out as if he was searching, searching.

Lanie felt her heart grow colder as she watched him.

What’s wrong? Why does he look so incredibly unhappy?

She wanted to say something, ask if he was okay. But inside, a little voice told her not to speak.

He doesn’t want to talk, Lanie
.

She lay there and watched him from the darkness of the bed, wondering how long he’d been standing like that and how long he was going to keep staring out the window.

She’d felt so close, so sexy and warm and intimate with Brayden just a little while ago.

He had sex with me.

We fucked. Even though he said he never would.

And now…now is he regretting that?

She wanted to believe that maybe he was just having a little bout of insomnia or something, but Lanie felt certain it was a lot more than just having difficulty sleeping that was causing him to stand there and stare out the window with that look on his face.

Minutes went by.

Finally, he seemed to blink, as if waking from a trance. He heaved a deep sigh deep from his chest and let it out, running a hand through his hair.

Brayden turned his head and looked at her.

She lay very still, knowing he had no idea she’d been awake watching him.

Keeping her eyes slightly closed, she could still see him while he didn’t realize it.

And the look on his face frightened her.

Brayden Forman was staring at her with regret and sadness the likes of which she could hardly stand.

And then he walked into the main room, and she saw him lie down on the couch.

He never came back into the bedroom.

Lanie tossed and turned the rest of the night, feeling sickened, feeling empty and used up and crumpled.

Tears burned her eyes.

I can’t believe I was so stupid. Why did I let him do that? Why did I have sex with him when I knew it had to end badly?

Because it felt amazing.

You’d let him do it all again if you could—right now. If he came back into the room and climbed into the bed and kissed you…

Even the thought of that made her want to weep. It was true—she couldn’t say no to Brayden. Couldn’t say no to the feeling he stirred so deeply inside her soul—touching her, wanting her, looking at her like no man had ever done.

But the loss of his affection was as painful as the touching had been pleasurable.

When dawn broke, she finally rose out of bed and went to the bathroom. Her eyes were bloodshot and sad in the mirror, and she splashed her face with cold water.

Her stomach felt vaguely curdled from the drinking, and her head had a dull ache, mostly behind her eyeballs.

She came out of the bathroom and found Brayden, fully dressed, in the bedroom. His expression was difficult to read. “Morning,” he said, his tone cold, as if they didn’t know one another very well.

Maybe that’s because we don’t.

What do I really know about him?

“Morning,” she replied, trying to match his cool detachment. She walked to the bedside and put on clothes that had come off the previous evening.

“I’m heading over to the office. I have an early morning meeting.”

She glanced at him, swallowed. Nodded. “Okay.”

“You should relax. Stay here for a bit and come in later.”

“No, I need to go home and shower and change.”

“You can come in a little late to the office if need be.”

She felt her stomach tighten. “If that’s what you want.”

Brayden let out a little hiss of displeasure. “I didn’t say that. I’m trying…I’m trying to be considerate, here.”

Lanie straightened her posture as she stood in last night’s dirty, skanky clothing and watched the man who’d taken her virginity act as though he barely knew her name. “Considerate? Is that what you’re being?”

“Don’t,” he said, putting a hand to his forehead and rubbing. “I have a massive fucking headache.”

“That must be difficult for you,” she said.

He gave her a disbelieving smirk. “It is. It’s really difficult. My life is tough.”

“Oh, yeah.” She widened her eyes. “I can tell.”

“Lanie,” he said, sighing. “I know that what happened last night was…”

“Unexpected?” she countered, enjoying some part of his discomfort.

“Yes, unexpected.” Brayden’s lips curled. “I didn’t intend for things to go that far.”

“Well, then. It must be okay. You didn’t intend.”

He shook his head. “I knew this would happen.”

“I’m very predictable.”

“No, you’re fucking stubborn.”

“I’m definitely fucking. No doubt about that,” she quipped.

Brayden turned his body away from her. “I can’t do this. I can’t, Lanie. Stay here if you want for a bit. Or don’t. Come into the office whenever…just do what you need to do.”

And then he was leaving the hotel room, and Lanie wanted to shout after him—tell him how cruel he was. Tell him how much he’d hurt her, how furious and sad and wounded she was.

But she didn’t say a word.

* * *

W
hen Lanie arrived
at the office that morning, her stomach was full of butterflies.

She’d returned back to her apartment, showered, changed into a conservative outfit—slacks and a plain white blouse.

There would be no flirting, no begging for his attention.

She felt angry, bitter and hostile. But in a way, she liked the feeling. It was clean, it was far easier to be bitter and jaded than it was to feel sad, and aching loneliness.

So she got into the office and held her head up high.

The moment she got into the workspace, she saw that Brayden was in his office with the door shut, on the phone, leaning back in his chair.

He looked gorgeous and perfect and completely unattainable.

For a brief moment, she questioned her own sanity.

Did we really sleep together?

No.

You dreamed it.

You were hallucinating.

Just look at him on the phone, smiling, laughing, not a care in the world. He’s not hung-over, he’s not regretting the time he spent with you last night because it never even happened except in your mind.

“He only gets more attractive if you stare at him,” someone said from right behind her, and Lanie startled, putting a hand over her face.

“Shit,” she said. “You…you startled me.” She turned to find Freda standing just behind her with a smile on her face.

The woman was as drop-dead-gorgeous today as she’d been the previous day when they’d met in the office restroom. Frida grinned. “I caught you spying, but it’s our secret.” She pretended to turn an imaginary key in front of her lips and then toss it.

Lanie frowned slightly, her brow creasing. “I wasn’t spying. I’m just a little tired. Maybe coming down with something.”

“Oh, no. Poor thing.” Frida rubbed Lanie’s shoulder for a second and then motioned her to follow. “Come to my lair, child. I have everything and anything you could need.”

Lanie found that she didn’t necessarily want to follow this strange woman who’d accused her of spying on Brayden Forman, who acted like they’d known one another for ages and ages instead of less than thirty minutes total.

But she didn’t want to be rude.

She needed friends, especially now that Brayden Forman seemed to be hoping she would dry up and blow away like she’d never existed.

They got to Frida’s workspace and the leggy woman sat down and then opened her large, expansive purse. “So, let’s see what we have…” she muttered, pouring through its contents like an old country doctor going through the medicine bag.

“I’m fine, really,” Lanie muttered. “Probably just need a coffee is all.”

“Oh, well. Want a caffeine pill? It’s fast acting,” Frida said, looking up hopefully.

Lanie shrugged. “I don’t think so. Cup a coffee will do fine.” She smiled.

“You sure? I’ve got Echinacea, vitamin C, D, licorice root…this powder that supposedly comes from a Chinese herbalist and gives you great focus.”

“Maybe later, if I’m still feeling out of it.”

“Okay.” Frida’s foot tapped on the floor. She shifted, her eyes darting from one point in the room to another, then her gaze landed on Lanie. “So, how are you liking working with the big man?”

“Big man?”

“You know.” Frida jabbed her thumb back towards Brayden’s office and then peered over her shoulder in his direction. “I hear he’s quite the taskmaster.”

“We only just started working together,” Lanie said. “I can’t say.”

“But he’s so handsome, right? And funny, too.”

“I suppose.”

“You suppose?” Frida spun toward Lanie and leant forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Has he hit on you yet?”

“No, of course not.” Lanie frowned again. She desperately wanted to get away from this woman.

But Frida was still going. “He will,” she said, confidently, nodding. “He will. It’s a sure thing.”

“I don’t really have any interest,” Lanie lied. Her lips felt numb.

She felt sick.

“Well, you’ll be the first then,” Frida said. She winked.

Lanie was getting upset. Truly upset. She leaned closer to Frida now. She could smell shampoo and perfume, and beneath that, a scent of cocoa butter and skin.

She could also see Frida’s breasts, like two perfect globes, encased in a sexy lace bra.

“What do you mean? I’ll be the first?” Lanie asked softly.

“Yeah. The first girl in this office he hasn’t fucked.”

Lanie felt like she’d been slapped. “You’re joking.”

“Ask anyone, girl. I’m not joking. You need to be careful if you don’t want to be just another notch on his belt.”

“So you…you’ve been with him too?” Lanie said.

Frida seemed to grow uneasy. “All I’m saying…”

“Did you?” Lanie pressed.

“I’m just…I’m only telling you…you should know…”

Lanie found her hands clenching into fists as Frida continued stuttering and avoiding the answer.

“It’s a simple question,” Lanie said.

“Shit, I need my medicine.” Frida pulled a small prescription bottle out of her purse and uncapped it, then dumped two tiny round pills into the palm of her hand. She tossed the pills into her wide-open mouth and chased them with a sip of water.

Lanie wasn’t done, though.

She wanted a direct answer about whether Frida had screwed Brayden. Why it was so vital, she couldn’t say.

Obviously, everyone’s been fucked by him.

You were.

He screws everyone.

Everyone.

Disgust threatened to overwhelm her, and then Brayden was calling across the workspace to her.

“Lanie!” he called.

She glanced up.

Brayden had come out of his office and into the main workspace. He gestured for her to come to him, waving two fingers in a quick, efficient beckoning motion.

“Duty calls, huh?” Frida giggled.

Lanie rolled her eyes and then headed over, feeling incredibly insecure.

They all know.

God, they all know.

She wanted to puke.

When she got closer to the office door, she saw that Brayden had set a cup of coffee by his seat and then another across the desk.

“Come inside,” he said, holding his door open and allowing her in.

She had to pass very close to his hard body in his finely tailored suit to go inside. Her breath caught in her chest.

She could smell his scent.

She could feel herself wanting him again already, despite everything.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

She pursed her lips, then sat down heavily in the chair.

“I got you a cup of coffee from the café across the street. Great stuff,” he said, walking behind his desk and sitting down, picking up his coffee cup and holding it close to his flat belly that was tight against his button down shirt.

His blazer hung open and his tie was sliding off to the side as he leaned back, revealing the broadness of his chest.

Lanie picked up her coffee cup, too. “Thank you,” she murmured, unable to look into his eyes.

“So,” he said.

There was a long, awkward silence.

She smiled, but it didn’t feel real. Sipped her coffee. It was warm and good. “You wanted to see me?” she asked, eventually.

“I did,” he nodded. “Yes. Of course. We’ve got work to do.”

“Right. Work.”

He scratched his cheek. “And I suppose we should discuss…you know.” He flapped his hand as if that said it all.

Lanie felt her cheeks burning.

She thought about those things Frida had said. It made her nauseous.