Corporate Seduction (20 page)

He looked tired and more than a little thoughtful. Reaching over with her free hand, she cupped his cheek. “You work too hard.”

Khalil sighed. “I know, that’s why I have you to help me relax. Which is exactly what we’re going to do as soon as this is over with.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Leaning over, he lightly kissed her lips.

Reka sighed, knowing instinctively that Jack was not the only thing on his mind. Just as she’d had doubts looming in her mind when she first saw Sonya and learned that she had been engaged to Khalil, she suspected that whatever his knowledge of Donovan was, doubts were still niggling at him despite her answer.

“My past is my past,” she whispered against his lips, her eyes capturing his in the dimness of the car. “I can’t change it now. Donovan and I, that’s over and done with. It’s just you and me now, believe that.”

She kissed his lips once lightly, then again with her tongue stroking over his mustache and his top lip. Khalil pulled her closer, desperate for the contact, the confirmation. Deepening the kiss, he poured his soul into that intimate action. She moaned into his mouth and he sighed with contentment. “I believe it,” he said when he finally managed to pull away.

* * *

Khalil had been in his office since seven, having felt the need to wrap this email case up quickly. He’d been running code and scanning the messages for the last three hours when his screen suddenly blinked green, then black. Lines of code ran quickly until they were like blurred streams of white. A smile spread across his face.

A login name, signal location, internet identification and, finally, an email address blinked like that infamous light bulb over a cartoon character’s head.

Hitting the print button, he listened as the information made its way from the screen to the blank sheet of paper. With a sigh of relief he picked up his phone to call Cienna. They would both celebrate with a responsive message to their friend Jack.

He’d just left a message on Cienna’s voice mail when there was a knock at his door. “Come in,” he yelled jubilantly even as he thought of the fancy restaurant he was going to take Reka to this afternoon for a celebratory lunch.

“This package just came for you,” Tacoma said, stepping into the office. “I was going in this direction so I told Clara I’d drop it off.”

“Thanks, Tacoma.” Khalil took the package and clapped the smaller man on the back.

Tacoma looked at him with a weird expression. “Are you okay?”

Khalil couldn’t stop smiling, he was so happy. But the look on Tacoma’s face reminded him that he had yet to share his good news. “I just got a break in the emails,” he explained.

“Really?” Tacoma’s face lit up. “That’s fantastic. Who is it? Do they work here? It’s probably that freaky Nicole in the bankruptcy department.”

Khalil chuckled. “No, it’s not freaky…I mean, it’s not Nicole.” Shaking his head at Tacoma, he went to take a seat behind his desk again. “I have to talk to Cienna first. Then I suspect she’ll make an announcement.”

“She’s in the conference room with some bigwigs. I guess I’ll have to wait for the news then.” Tacoma sighed, walked towards the door, then paused. “We should go out for drinks tonight to celebrate.”

Comfortable with Tacoma and finding himself enjoying the time he spent around other couples, Khalil considered the suggestion and nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’ll tell Cienna about it when I talk to her.”

“Great! I’ll go call Terry and I’ll stop by Reka’s office on my way.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later.” Khalil was already looking down at the package on his desk so he didn’t notice Tacoma had left the office until he heard the door close.

Pulling the tab on the FedEx package, he leaned back further in his chair, letting the reclining mechanism move in accordance with his long frame. He was actually humming a tune, that new Brian McKnight song that seemed to be on the radio every time he and Reka were in the car. Did that mean that it should officially be their song? He smiled at the thought, then stuck his hand into the envelope and pulled out the contents.

Suddenly he sat bolt upright, his eyes riveted on the material he now held. His first thought as he flipped through the numerous shots of naked bodies in explicit sexual positions was that Jack had stepped up his game.

Then a pair of eyes stared at him with alarming clarity and all the blood in his body froze. He actually cringed. His hands shook as he moved from one photo to the next over and over again until the images seemed to blur together.

His phone rang but he ignored it. Trembling, Khalil set the pictures on the desk and brought his hands up to his face. Taking deep steadying breaths, he prayed that when he opened his eyes and looked down again he’d be wrong. He was tired, he’d been working since really early this morning. And he’d been thinking about her. For weeks now she’d clouded every part of his mind until his thoughts were completely of her. That was it. That was why he was seeing her.

Relaxing back in the chair he rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. Spinning the chair around, he turned his back on the photos, focused his eyes on the brisk fall day outside. He wasn’t thinking clearly—he couldn’t possibly be thinking clearly. It wasn’t her. In his gut he knew she couldn’t do this to him. In his heart, he prayed she couldn’t do this. But his mind, his mind was clear on what he had seen. Turning again, he picked up a picture and looked first at the face of the man. A man he’d never seen before in his life until late last night when he’d received an updated email from Garland. Donovan Jackson.

The woman, the first woman, was familiar as well. He’d seen her in the office every day. Her light, almost white complexion and that long straight dark hair were unmistakable. Her breasts were huge as Donovan palmed them. Her face distorted with pleasure, it was Tyrese Buchannon.

But he didn’t give a damn about either of those figures. With rapid heartbeats his eyes scanned down to the final woman, the one with her face between Tyrese’s legs. Her face wasn’t completely visible, but the hair was the same. He flipped to another picture. Donovan lay on his back, Tyrese straddled over his face and the woman Khalil thought he was in love with, the woman he thought was in love with him, was riding this other man, cupping her own breasts as she sat atop his penis.

In one long ragged movement, everything on Khalil’s desk hit the floor, pictures included. He stood, slamming a fist into the wall with such fury the picture shook and the drywall gave way, leaving a hole the size of his hand. He wanted to scream, wanted to yell the roof off that building. Then he wanted to kill. Red blurred his vision, tinting everything around him with the fury that he felt. He wanted to break Donovan Jackson’s body in two, wanted to watch the man suffer for a long time before finally killing him. Tyrese was a slut, this Khalil had already surmised. The pictures only validated that point. But for her part in this, for her treachery, he could wrap his hands around her pretty little neck and send that rail thin body splattering across a cold hard floor.

And Reka…Falling to his knees, he felt a jagged moan escape his chest. What could he do to her? What could he possibly do to this woman who had come to mean so much to him? Holding his head between his hands he knew he could never hurt her, could never cause her the type of pain she was now causing him. But he couldn’t forgive her either. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, let this go.

Scooping the pictures up from the mess on the floor, he found the FedEx envelope and dropped them inside. Standing, he moved to the door, took a deep breath, then opened it and walked towards her office.

* * *

Reka was at her desk finalizing an email she was sending to Khalil. This weekend had been so wonderful and so emotional at the same time. She’d realized just how much she cared about him and had decided to put everything else in her past aside because he was different. They were different and, because of that, their relationship had a chance. Last night she’d lain in bed believing that she and Khalil could have what Cienna and Keith had. They could have a big house filled with kids and lazy Sunday afternoons. They could have the love and trust that was so apparent between Cienna and Keith.

They could be happy.

With a smile on her face she hit the send button and sat back, wondering what his reaction would be to her written words. It was almost lunch time and she hadn’t heard from Khalil yet. Tacoma had told her about a half hour ago that Khalil had discovered Jack’s identity and that he was waiting to talk to Cienna first, so she assumed that’s where he was because when she’d just called his office he hadn’t answered.

She had work to do, but couldn’t quite concentrate. Her thoughts were focused on one thing, one person, one man.

And at that precise moment that man walked through her office door.

Her heart took that butterfly leap it did each time she saw him, then plummeted with a loud thud as she scanned his face. His lips were set in a thin line, the muscles in his jaw visible through the thin beard and clenching fiercely. His eyes were dark, ominous, as he glared at her. With a fluid motion he shut the door quietly, in blatant contrast to the look of a dark storm on his face.

“Hey, baby. What’s the matter?” She made a move to stand, to go to him, but he held up a hand, stopping her.

“No. You need to sit down for this.”

His words were cold, almost unrecognizable. He moved closer to her desk and she noticed his chest heaving through the stark white dress shirt he wore. Those thick muscles she’d come to love rubbing her hands and her mouth over rose and fell in sudden spasms, his arms bulging until, for a minute, he looked like the Incredible Hulk about to burst right out of his shirt.

“What’s going on?” He didn’t look sad, so the thought of someone dying or being hurt didn’t immediately come to mind. What he looked was angry enough to kill.

“You tell me, Reka.” He tossed the envelope onto her desk before dropping down into the chair across from her, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “I thought you and I were in a relationship. I thought we were working towards something real here.” He looked away from her then, because today, of all days, she was more beautiful than ever. Her hair hung straight down, resting between her shoulder blades. Her face was smooth, the prettiest shade of brown he’d ever seen, with that bold beauty mark at the corner of her mouth. But then there were those eyes, that molten color that was a toss up between hazel and green on any given day. That was the betrayal, the one thing he couldn’t handle.

“Khalil, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’re really scaring me.”

She didn’t make a move for the envelope, he noticed when he turned back to her. “Pick it up and look at them,” he said slowly, each word laced with pain.

Sitting up in her chair, Reka reached for the envelope, a sense of dread building in her gut. Grabbing the stack from inside she pulled out the pictures and gasped as the images became clear. Donovan and Tyrese and…and…“Where did you get these?”

“Does it matter?” He grimaced. Where was the denial? She should have been screaming and yelling her innocence. Instead she simply looked at the pictures, then up at him.

Reka couldn’t believe what she was seeing, what she was experiencing. In an instant Khalil’s anger and the source of it registered with her. In that same instant her own anger began to rise. She tossed the pictures back onto the desk. “So let me guess. You’re here because you think I cheated on you. You think I lied to you.”

“Let’s not play childish games, Reka. I don’t have time for them.”

She blinked, astonished at the pain his words caused. “Oh, now you want to emphasize the age difference. I seem to remember a time not too long ago when you told me that age didn’t matter.”

“Age doesn’t. Maturity does.”

It was a staredown. Dark brown eyes holding hazel flecked ones. The tension in the room was so thick either of them could have choked from it.

“You’re right, Khalil. So the mature thing to do is to put all our cards on the table.” Dropping her hands to the arms of her chair, she crossed her legs and glared at him. “What do you have to say to me about these pictures?”

Was she turning the tables? Again his vision blurred with rage. She was the one in those photos, she was the one performing a number of explicit acts with her ex-boyfriend and her co-worker. She should be the one doing the talking. “Are you even going to deny it? Aren’t you going to try to plead your case, to tell me I’m mistaken?”

Why should she? He already believed the worst of her. Reka shook her head, shook away the tears that threatened to erupt. She’d been through too much in her young life to be baited into a yelling match with him. His mind was made up. Whatever she did or did not say wouldn’t matter. It never mattered. Her college degree, her new title at work, her new clothes, none of it mattered to the woman inside. She was who she was, Reka Boyd, born and raised on the streets. She should have never let herself believe that a man like Khalil could see past everything else and truly love a woman like her.

“What I’m going to do is tell you this one time and one time only.” She took a deep breath and stood, folding her arms across her chest because she didn’t know what else to do with them. “I loved you. I never lied to you about my past or about my present. You knew who and what I was the moment you met me, the moment you talked to Keith about me. You pursued me, even when I told you I was no good at relationships.” She paused, those damned tears getting too close to the surface.

“You said our backgrounds didn’t matter to you. But you lied. These last few weeks you’ve been convincing yourself that I was a woman you could be with when in truth, you want a woman like Sonya, the socialite that your family will approve of, the perfect looking bitch to appear on your arm. The other side of you, the carefree, almost human side, wants to live a little dangerously, to break the rules. That’s where I came in. But in your mind you knew I’d never measure up. So you sat back, watching, waiting for something to happen, something to prove your point.”