Everything You Are (22 page)

“Ian stood up and shook the girl's hand. “Ian Thornton, Jane's fiancé.”

Jane lifted the cup and sipped the latte, not knowing if she should be delighted or irritated by his admission. She did like how Deborah's eyes widened and how her mouth turned down, though. She was also glad that Ian hadn't given the girl a second glance and that his hand found Jane's. He laced their fingers.

“You're engaged?”

“Yes, she is,” Ian answered instead of Jane.

“Master Sebastian, who are these people?” Bertha asked.

Ian sighed. He released Jane, put his hand on Bertha's shoulder and gently squeezed. “Just friends.” His mouth stretched into a smile that looked genuine but slightly strained. “It was nice seeing you again, Bertha.”

“Yes, it was nice seeing you too.” Bertha smiled back. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Ian said. He looped his arm with Jane’s, gave Deborah a nod and then turned Jane around and guided her out of the room.

“Bye.” Jane glanced at Deborah, who stood there, scowling at them, before she focused her gaze on Ian. “You didn’t even taste the coffee.”

“So?” He led them across the hall.

“Nothing.” Jane shrugged. “You look irritated.” By the way his jaw was tensed and the darkness that shimmered over him like a coming storm, she would have said that he was more than just irritated; he was angry, something that she had never seen before. And she doubted that he was annoyed because of Deborah's appearance.

“So what if I am?”

She eyed him. “Why?” What had Bertha told him? “Is there anything that I can do?”

“I'm fine.” He stopped at the entrance door. The crease that cut into the spot between his eyebrows smoothed out and his fingers cupped Jane's neck. He looked as if he was trying to hide his anger, but she could still see it, lingering just under the façade of calmness. “I'm fine,” he repeated, sounding more as if he was trying to convince himself, rather than her.

“I know you are.” She grabbed his arm and stepped forward, pulling him with her. She looked at him over her shoulder. “But if you ever feel that you are not, this is all yours.” With the hand in which she still held her cup of coffee, she carefully patted her shoulder.

He chuckled, shook her hand off his so he could wrap it around her shoulder. “I'm so lucky to have you.”

“I know.” She grinned up at him.

“That's enough!” Sebastian Thornton's fist hit the desk and he stood up so fast that the chair behind him slid backwards, screeching.

“No, it's not.” Ian crossed his arms and pushed his chin upwards. “You cheated on Mother while she was pregnant with me! Or are you going to deny it?” At first when Bertha had scolded him, mistaking him for his father again, he had thought that she was mixing up events and people, but then he remembered what Beth had said about Linda at the Thornton annual picnic. What if it was true? What if his father, his father who had such high moral standards, had been two-timing his mother while they were engaged and while she was carrying a baby? “Are you going to deny that you were messing around with that Linda girl?”

“I was never messing around with Linda,” his father hissed, frowning.

“Than what would you call it? Two-timing Mother?”

“You don't know anything about it.”

“I know enough. You deceived Mother while she was pregnant with me, and you dared to lecture me about my relationships. At least I never cheated on any of the girls I dated.” What a hypocrite.

“I never deceived your mother!”

“Than what would you call it?” Ian slammed his hands against the desk and leaned forward. “What do you call it?”

“I loved her!”

“What?”

“Linda, I loved her.” His father slumped into the chair.

Ian had expected many things, denial and profession of love for his mother being among them, but not this. “You loved her! What about Mother?”

His father's hand went over his face as he leaned backward in the chair. “This happened a long time ago, and your mother was very well aware of my feelings for Linda and why I was engaged to her anyway.”

“But --”

“I love your mother dearly, Ian, but I was young and foolish once, too. So, just let it be.”

“You --”

“Please, Ian.”

“No!”

“Please, just let it be. And don't trouble Mother with this, promise me.” The wrinkles cut into his father’s skin looked deeper, more prominent, making him looked tired and wrung out. And there was such sadness in the eyes that gazed at Ian.

So his father had been young once. That still didn't absolve him of cheating on Mother while they were engaged. Ian was very well aware that his parents had an arranged marriage, but they had fallen in love, and over the years their love and mutual respect for each other had grown. They were happily married, or so his mother liked to claim, and their relationship was an example of something that Ian hoped to share with his love one someday. But it was fake. With his jaw locked, Ian sat down in the chair in front of the desk, trying to calm himself, while annoyance bubbled at the edge of his mind. But he refused to promise his father anything, especially since he had planned to have a long talk with his mother about this. He didn't intend to jump on her as he had on his father, but he was going to ask her what she knew about Linda. “I want to know who this Linda is and why her sister wants to destroy our company.”

With his hand, his father rubbed his face. “It could be that she feels that she needs revenge for Linda, but she's not her sister. I know for certain that Linda didn't have a sister. And she never mentioned any Martha.”

“Why would Martha even need to avenge Linda? What did you do to Linda?”

“Nothing.”

“You loved her?”

“Yes.” His father's eyes become slightly misted. “She was the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on. Besides your mother, that is,” he quickly added. “And so gentle, so good natured.”

“What happened with you two?”

Father cleared his throat. “My parents found about us and chased her away.”

“What happened to her?”

His father frowned.

“What happened to her?” Ian repeated his question.

“I wasn't there to help her when she needed me the most. And she just withered away. She died.” His father's eyes found his. “I swore then that I would never try to separate my children from their chosen one, no matter how inappropriate your choice. But you have chosen well, both you and Izzy. Andrew is a great man, whom I hold in high regard, and I like Jane very much. She will be a good wife to you.”

“She'll be a wonderful wife. But I didn't came to your office to talk about Jane,” Ian said. “If Martha's motive is revenge for Linda's death, why is she going after the company and not after you?”

“Going after my company
is
going after me.”

“Yes, that's true. The company is your pride and joy.”

“You're my pride and joy, too, so are Izzy and Chris.”

“I know. I know.” With his fingers Ian stroked his chin. “We should call Southern and ask him to investigate Linda's family relationships, maybe he'll find something about Martha.”

“I'll do that.”

“What do you want to do about Martha? We could turn her over to the police and try to get her prosecuted under the Economic Espionage Act. The fines for that are quite high and she could be put in prison for up to ten years, I think. We can prove that she was the one eavesdropping, but is that enough to prosecute her for espionage?”

“If we have evidence of financial gain from eavesdropping.”

“Which we don’t.”

“No.” His father tapped his fingers against the desk.

“How much is the penalty for planting listening devices?”

“I'm not sure. I’ll ask Richardson to look it up for me.”

“And we'll just continue as usual, with the microphones intact?”

“Yes,” his father said.

“I'm sick of it.” Of his home and his privacy being invaded, of having to be careful what he said within the four walls of his apartment, of Jane's bedroom being the only safe haven and the only place where he could make her moan and cry out without others hearing her. He refused to share Jane's sweet sounds with anybody else, but he wanted to make love with her on the dining room table, on the couch, on the kitchen counter and in his own bed. He stood. “I want the surveillance to end.”

“It will. Soon.”

Ian sighed.

“I promise.”

“I'll hold you to your word, then. Call me when there's something new.” Ian turned and walked out of his father's office. He paused at Richardson's desk. “Send Miss Bennet into my office, please.”

“Right away?” Richardson asked.

“Yes,” Ian said. He strode to his office that was three doors down the hall. He passed his secretary, the older woman assigned to take care of smaller tasks, like taking care of his calls, making him coffee, making copies of documents and screening guests. With his hand on the door handle he turned to the woman. “I'm expecting Miss Bennet. Show her in and then hold all my calls and visitors until further notice.”

“Yes, sir.”

He entered his office and, with a sigh, he sank onto leather couch facing the high windows across the room with a view of the city. He leaned his arms and the back of his head on the smooth brown leather. It wasn't even noon yet and he felt wrung out like a rag.

A knock on the door before Jane walked through it, gently closing it.

“Lock it, please.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't want any interruptions.”

The lock made a small click, then she leaned her back on the door. “Interruptions while doing what?”

He wiggled his finger in a ‘come closer’ gesture. “Come, and I'll show you.”

“You're so wicked.” She pushed herself away from the door and strolled toward him, gently swinging her hips. “Trying to take advantage of your employee during work hours.”

“You're not my employee, but my father's.” He straightened and widened the stance of his legs, while he stretched out his hand.

“So, you are trying to take advantage of your father's employee during work hours? That's even worse.” She took his hand and stepped between his legs.

“I guess you could say that.” He wrapped his arms around her and drew her down and against his chest. He deeply inhaled the scent of her hair. “You smell so good.”

“I do?” She raised her head.

“Yes, you do.” His mouth brushed against the tip of her nose, avoiding the edges of her glasses, before he cupped the back of her neck and buried his face in her hair again. He had two meetings today which would probably lengthen his work day by four, if not five, hours. This wasn't a rare occurrence, but lately all he wanted to do was to finish his work day and go home with Jane. “Just be still.”

Jane's arms went around his shoulders while she pressed her cheek against his neck. “How long are we supposed to stay like this?”

“I just need a few moments to recharge.” His fingers wrapped around her hips and he lifted them, forcing her to straddle him. Yes, this was much better.

The edges of her grey skirt rose up, exposing her thighs.

His hand slid over her leg then up her hip and her back until it rested between her shoulder blades. His fingers splayed and he pressed her closer to him. She felt so good against him, her scent drifted around him so wonderfully, and her touch... it was so soothing and so arousing at the same time. He held her, just enjoying her embrace and the warmth of her body. She was like rain to the parched earth.

“You're hard,” she whispered and shifted in his arms.

“For you, always.”

“Do you plan to do anything about it?”

“No, not really.” Oh, yes, he would love to bury himself in her and get lost in her heat. But she was the woman who carried his child, the woman he loved and cherished, he couldn't just lay her over the desk and fuck her. Just holding her was enough.

“Are you certain?” She pushed her glasses to the top of her head and pressed a kiss on the line of his jaw, while her hands went inside his jacket to caress his chest.

“No.”

“You make me horny too, you know.”

“I do?” He smirked. “Yes, of course I do.”

She rolled her eyes. “Actually, I think that hormones make me horny. And then sitting in your lap doesn't really help, does it?”

He chuckled and framed her face. “You sound so serious.”

“But this is serious.” A cute scowl furrowed her eyebrows.

“I would love to help you with your horniness.” His fingers started to unbutton her white shirt.

“How kind of you.” Her hands glided over his abdomen and stopped at the buckle of his belt. Her mouth trailed over his jaw and then down his neck, forcing him to arch his head backwards. She pressed a kiss on a dip of his collarbone.

“Pukki, darling. We are here to deal with your horniness, not mine.” He pushed her shirt open. She wore a white tank top underneath with the upper edge of her blue bra peeking out of the low neckline.

“Who said so?”

“I did.” He kissed the cute crease between her eyebrows and took hold of her glasses, which he folded and put on the couch, a safe distance away.

“I can take care of you too.” Her fingers tiptoed over his belt and followed the line of his zipper before she pressed her hand against him, the heel of it pressed against his erection, rubbing it.

His breath hitched. He covered her hand with his. “Yes, you can.”

She smiled.

She was so beautiful. “But right now, I want to take care of you and I can't do that with you giving me a hand job.”

“Are you saying that you can't multitask?”

He drew her hands behind her back and then held them there with one hand. “Not with you in my lap.”

“Am I so distracting?”

“You're very distracting.” His free hand went under her top to crawl up the curve of her belly and push up her bra. He cupped a breast the size of a peach, his thumb caressing her nipple. She had small but firm breasts that fit so well in the palm of his hand. “So no more touching me.”

“As if I can, with you holding my hands.” She leaned into his touch, her grey eyes, now without her glasses, looked so big in her face.

He pressed his mouth against hers. His tongue darted out and, with soft strokes against her bottom lip, it seduced its way inside. Her tongue slid against him so sweetly, so demanding, as if she felt the same raw desire that throbbed in the pit of his stomach. He needed to feel her, to shove himself deep inside her and feel her walls clenching around him. He released her hands and shifted his lips away from hers. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she murmured then pressed her mouth against his, entangling him in a kiss that made the need for her flare and spread through his veins like molten lava. Her arms wound around his shoulders.

His erection pressed against the fabric of his underwear almost painfully. He pushed her skirt even higher and fumbled with her stockings until he had them and her panties down her thighs. He would have taken care of his belt and zipper, but her fingers had already unbuckled the belt and pushed the zipper and his waistband of his boxers down. He pushed her hips up and over him, then slowly lowered her down on him.

She softly moaned.

He held his breath as she slowly engulfed him in her warmth. His hand smoothed down her back and then up again. He cupped her neck and then just stared at her, at the glow of her face and the sparks in her eyes. She loved him; this amazing girl loved him.