Devotion - Billionaire Contemporary Romance Novel (33 page)

Everything was so different now…

Clasping her hand and towing her towards him, Eliot had tried to kiss her before she slipped out of his car.  His eyes seized upon her as he touched her cheek like she was his prize.
She had escaped, just barely
.  But she knew what he wanted, and she knew that he would not be deterred simply because she had declined him that night. 
He would try again
.  She had felt certain of it; and now, as she heard his penetrating voice through her phone, she knew his intentions were clear—he intended to lure her back—and he would not be satisfied until she gave into him.

“I want to see you,” Eliot said, determined. 
No, there was never any hesitation with him
.

“That’s not possible, Eliot.”

“I seriously doubt that. And I’m still waiting…”

“For…?”

“For your answer to my offer.”

“I’m fairly certain that I’ve told you no.”

“A smart businessman can read a good bluff when he hears it.”

“That makes me sound insincere.”

“I prefer to think of you more as stubborn.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.”

Eliot laughed, a freewheeling laugh that told her he wasn’t going to relent until he got what he wanted. 

“I assume you’ve heard the news by now?”

“Enlighten me.”

“The City has condemned The Old Main Post Office under their right of eminent domain.”

Her eyes settled onto Phillip who watched her in return. “Yes...we’ve all been informed.”

“Then you know it’s going to linger in the hands of the courts for years until they finally determine an appropriate amount of compensation before turning the redevelopment project over to the City.  And to Watercross Capital.”

“You say that as if you know that’s all a certainty.”  She was fishing, feeling him out.

“Nothing is ever a certainty with these kinds of deals,” he replied slyly, tugging on her line. “This is Chicago, after all, and there’s always room for negotiation.”  He fell silent, waiting, listening to her breath, wanting to ensure that she understood him completely. “Which is why, Bella…the only thing certain is that I need to see you.”

I need to see you. 
Isabel broke her gaze with Phillip. 
Yes, she understood him
.  And she understood exactly what she could offer him in exchange for what he could offer her.

“Where?”

“Here, at my penthouse.”

“That sounds a bit informal.”

Devilish in its intentions, Eliot’s laughter rang out.

“I’ll leave the manners and formalities to gentlemen like Phillip.  I’m fairly certain you and I prefer a different sort of interaction.”

Click
.

Chapter Twenty

Isabel entered the private residential elevator and allowed the doorman to press the call button for her.  She exhaled as the cab butterflied her stomach up, up, upwards—all eighty-nine floors to the top penthouse suite of the Watercross Tower.
The penthouse suite, of course. Eliot Watercross wouldn’t have it any other way
.

Ping
.

Had she arrived already?
  Isabel barely had the chance to contemplate her decision to come—and to come alone.

The sleek black elevator doors rolled open.  She stepped out into the dim private hallway and noted the only door at the end of the corridor.  She approached it, noting the absence of a doorbell.  Instead, a security camera was mounted above its entryway.

Buzzzzzzz
.

The heavy steel door clicked ajar, facilitating her entrance.

He was watching her, as always
.

She slowly pushed across the threshold, drawn in by the sleek vinyl floors, black and reflective like mirrors amplifying the rays of daylight bursting through the duplex windows. White spherical walls churned and curled through the penthouse, a fun house playing games with her perspective.  She wound through the penthouse, lured in by glimpses of trendy furniture and modern art carefully filling pockets of expansive space—
living room, dining room, kitchen island
… She stopped, suddenly uncertain about her desire to navigate forward, and yet equally uneasy about her ability to double back. 

Pomp, pomp, pomp
.  She edged towards the rhythmic sound of blows against rubber, hoofs beating in succession.  She slipped between two Miró statues leading her through a vortex of contemporary fused glass panes and emerged on the other side of its maze into the penthouse’s exercise suite.  She spotted him, shirtless like a boxer, his strong shoulder muscles flexing with his accelerating breaths as he sprinted across the treadmill’s running deck, embedded into the black vinyl floor.  Gleaming in sweat, he snorted like a race stallion, pushing hard to break out against his own limitations.  Above him, a checkerboard of video panels replaying her own entrance into the building—elevator, hallway, and finally, his penthouse.  She halted, unnerved and captivated, by the eerie images of herself within the black and white security videos.

“In this day and age, there’s always someone watching,” he called to her, cutting the power on the treadmill and dismounting from its motorized belt.  “Glad you made the right decision to come.”

“The right decision?  For who—you?”

He swiped his water bottle from the treadmill’s shelf and took a swig while his stalking eyes fixed on her.  The decelerating belt drone to a buzz until it finally cut off completely.  “For both of us.”

He reached out and stroked her cheek with the tip of his finger, a presumptuous greeting and the flirtatious invitation of something more.  Their eyes locked as she attempted to keep her own gaze above his eye line, despite the temptation to follow the beads of sweat slinking down his shoulders, pecs and abs before staining the waistband of his red boxing shorts.  He swigged from his water bottle, studying her over its rim as though he was assessing her strengths and weaknesses from his corner of their invisible boxing ring.  He had intentionally drawn her deeply into the maze of his penthouse, trapping her within the intimacy and seclusion of his private lair with no offer of an escape, until he was satisfied that she had given him exactly what he wanted.

“So how many bribes did it take to get the city to condemn The Old Main Post Office?” she interrogated him, deciding her best defense was to go on the offensive.

“None,” he punctuated, musing over her anger while downing the final half of his water bottle.  “I simply had to propose the idea.  Everyone else was more than willing to see the genius behind it.”

“So you consider robbery genius?”

Eliot eyed her. “That makes you sound like your loyalty is still with Phillip.” He circled behind her, slipping off her trench coat without permission.  “Does that mean you’re simply here to reject my offer?” His voice dipped lower into her ear. “I highly doubt that.”

“I’m here to negotiate,” she clarified, holding her ground.  He was testing her, and she was willing to prove that she could endure it.

“Really? I’m intrigued.  But first, I need a shower… Wanna join me?” He laughed, as if he fully expected to be refused; and yet, his swagger asserted that the power was in the offer, not in its refusal.

He sauntered away from her and crossed behind an expansive wall of frosted glass, a decorative partition cornering off the far end of the open suite.  She watched his masculine silhouette kick off his shoes and strip off his shorts before flicking on the steamy spray of the shower and dousing his rugged body beneath it.

“Is this how you get ready every morning, showering in front of the entire city of Chicago?” She called to him, noting the exterior walls of panoramic glass and the unobstructed view of the city and lakefront he was afforded.

“Not in front of them, above them,” he clarified, extending out his muscular arm and retrieving a bar of soap.

“Is that what you’re after?  Putting the city beneath you?” she lobbed back. “Total domination of everyone and everything?”

He doused his head under the spraying water, running his hands through his hair before wiping his biceps and chest clean of all the suds. Isabel watched him, wondering if he had the bravado to exit the shower—wet and naked.

“Domination is just a means to an end, and I don’t mind doing whatever it takes to get it.”

She almost thought she saw him smile as he pivoted his body, revealing his accentuated profile before reaching out for his towel.  Turning away, she moved towards his bench press, inventing a distraction until she could prepare herself for how she intended to engage directly with him.  She skated her fingers around the barbell’s cold metallic weights; it was hard not to imagine him, lying across the bench and steadying two hundred pounds of weight across his chest before exploding it upwards with a single bursting exertion of strength. 

When she turned back, he had already emerged from his shower, wearing only his white bath towel, wrapped around his tapered waist.  He shook his slick dark hair with his hand and stared at her, gauging her lack of discomfort.

“So what kind of negotiations did you have in mind?” he asked, encroaching upon her personal space.

She held her ground. “I want you to convince the city to revoke their condemnation of The Old Main Post Office.”

“In exchange for…?” His finger traced her neckline.

She gazed into his green eyes. “In exchange for the names of ten investment leads for your iceberg project.”

“Really?” He sounded impressed, even surprised. “Does Phillip know you’re here?”

Her silence confirmed his suspicions.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” He sinfully pressed his bare chest and hard body towards her.

“Eliot…” Her hand pushed back on his bicep. “I’m not interested in becoming your business partner.  I just want you to persuade your contacts to revoke the condemnation.”

He reached out to fondle a wayward strand of her hair in a way that made her reconsider whether or not he was really the enemy—which made him even more dangerous.

“But I’m offering you so much more.”

“I don’t need anything more…more than what I already have.”

“Everyone needs more, Bella.  Don’t kid yourself that you’re any different.”

“I’m not different.  But I also know my own professional ambitions won’t fulfill me more than what already makes me happy now—and that’s my own personal devotion to the things that I hold dear in my life… And the people that I love.”

He eyed her, sidelong. “That’s a very pretty speech. But your loyalty is misguided.  It’s foolish to stand by something—or someone—who does nothing but hold you back.  You’re more than a secretary, Bella.  And you deserve to be treated like more.”

“As opposed to being treated like the ultimate prize in a competition?”

He smirked, confirming what they both knew was the truth.

“And such a lovely prize, indeed.”

He touched her cheek, testing her acceptance.  She challenged him with her eyes and held up a leaflet of paper, forcing him to betray which prize he truly desired most of all.

“Ten,” she insisted.

He secured her chin between his fingers and leaned in, grazing his nose along her cheekbone, as if he was savoring the scent of powder and perfume on her skin.  “It’s a shame we couldn’t find more common ground.”  His lips lingered close, threatening to breach the boundaries of her allegiance before snatching the leaflet into his grasp and pulling himself away from her. 

Isabel shut her eyes and exhaled, watching him whip off his towel and disappear around the curling white corner of the serpentine space.  Phillip was right.  She was just a pawn.  A pawn in a game of egos between greedy men.  And it was a game she was glad had finally come to an end.

* * * *

Isabel exited the Watercross Tower and approached the pearly white Bentley, idling along the curb.  Its tinted windows slowly lowered, revealing Aidan in its rear seat.

“Hi honey,” she said to him while approaching the passenger door.

“Mommy, can I tell you something?” he called out with excitement. “Phillip’s car sounds like a dragon.”

On cue, Phillip revved the Bentley’s engine. 

She entered the car and glanced over at him. “And I suppose you boys are the knights?”

“We prefer to be cowboys, don’t we, Aidan?” Phillip glanced back at him in the rear view mirror. 

“Yeeeeehaaaaaaaw!” Aidan bellowed out.

Isabel covered her ears. “You taught him that?”

“Naturally.” Phillip nodded, tearing away from the curb.  “It’s every English boy’s dream to be a cowboy.”

“Yeeeeeeehaaaaaw!” Aidan hollered again, just in case his mother didn’t hear him the first time. “Mommy, are we going to the aquarium now?”

“Yes, honey.  Thank you for being so patient.”  Isabel smiled at her son, noting how snugly he fit into Ellison’s car seat.  “So what happens now, Cowboy?” she asked Phillip.

“Watercross took the list?”

“Yes.  Everything happened exactly as you said it would.”

“Good.  Then, we do nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Yes, nothing.”

Isabel frowned.  Phillip glanced at her, then shifted gears, powering them into the fast lane along Lake Shore Drive.

“Watercross will contact our investors. He will most likely persuade them all to invest in his real estate fund for his miserable iceberg.  And he may or may not persuade the city to revoke the condemnation of The Old Main Post Office.”

“May or may not?” she questioned him.  “Won’t it be a stipulated contingency in the investment contract?”

“Surely not.”

“Then, Phillip...?” She paused, attempting to understand the calm resignation in his voice.  “Haven’t we just given Eliot Watercross some of our best investment contacts without any assurance that he will help revert The Old Main back into your possession?”

“Yes,” he replied, cutting across the highway towards their exit. “Except all ten of those investors are all tied back to my investment hedge funds.” 

“
Your
hedge funds?”

“Yes.”

“Which means…” Isabel’s voice trailed off, realizing the implications of his strategy.

“Which means…no matter how much capital Eliot Watercross leeches from my minority shareholder partners, I am the one who has to agree to participate in order for capital to be distributed.  So not only will I ultimately control the decision to fund Watercross’ iceberg, I will also be the one who ultimately owns it.”

“Oh, Phillip,” Isabel sighed, barely containing her displeasure.

He pulled into the parking lot of the Shedd Aquarium—one of her most favorite sites in the city—and parked along the Northside boardwalk, where the picturesque view of Lake Michigan and Chicago’s downtown skyline overwhelmed them.    

“Don’t worry.  I won’t let it melt completely.” He cut off the car’s engine and relaxed against his head rest, enjoying the way she censured him with her gaze.  “I’ll just let it get sloppy and soggy a bit—or at least until I get back The Old Main Post Office.”

She eyed him. “I should have known.”

“Yes, you should have.”  He smirked, reaching out for her hand and caressing her wrist, as if he was admiring how well she wore his sapphire ring on her engagement finger. “But you don’t think that way, devilishly, and that’s what I love about you the most—your absolute sincerity.”

He towed her towards him for a kiss—a long, penetrating expression of devotion that he had been forced to suppress for years; but now, he made it feel like the most natural thing in the world. 

“Yucky!” Aidan cried out, covering his eyes.  “Boring!  Can we please go to the aquarium now?”

Phillip peered back at Aidan, then Isabel. “I’m glad to see he has your temper.”