Read Everything You Need: Everything For You Trilogy Book 1 Online
Authors: Orla Bailey
I grab my clutch purse. “Goodnight, Libby.”
“Knock him dead,” Libby whispers.
I clip the door behind me knowing Jack holds a key to that too. Somehow he seems to be inveigling himself into my life. I might not have slammed this door either but to release all the nervous, pent-up tension at the thought of going to Jack tonight, I really, really wanted to.
A muted ping announces the private elevator’s arrival straight into the apartment. I’m totally on edge at the thought of the man who is waiting for me after all this time. It feels crazier than any dream.
My pulse rate spikes when the doors slide apart like theatre curtains on the opening act.
The space beyond is indistinct and my eyes take a while to adjust to the dimmed lighting but the softly lit elevator backlights me, displaying me to the one man I know is out there observing. I sense him as soon as my skin prickles with awareness, my mouth dries up and my body grows damp. Like the Sirocco winds that generate dry, deserts over one land mass but stormy squalls in another, he affects me, changing the landscape of my senses.
I peer until I spot the dark shape leaning against a pillar; a silhouette half-hidden in shadow. I’d know his huge frame anywhere. My heart slows and thuds like it’s getting set to arrest beneath the heavy weight of his surveillance. Even while my inner voice warns me and my stomach muscles knot until they ache, he’s no doubt satisfying himself I’ve met all his requirements. I so hate he can affect me this much after all this time.
After everything.
Too late I wish I’d shown some backbone and swapped the matching silk thong, found wrapped in tissue paper at the bottom of the dress carrier, for my Corpse Bride boy shorts but it seems like I’ve already regressed into that eighteen year old girl who can’t help wanting to please him.
“Welcome to my home, Tabitha.” Jack steps out of the shadows into my circle of light in no particular hurry. It’s as if time awaits his disposal and he manipulates it to draw my torment out as much as possible. We both know exactly what I’m here for.
He’s dressed in a black tuxedo without the tie, his stark dress shirt open at the collar. This combination of formal and casual, confuses me but the sight of him, so powerfully masculine, takes my breath away.
I leave the false security of the shaft, wrenching my eyes from Jack’s magnetic hold to travel the space around him. His home, Belvedere, is stunning. An industrial warehouse conversion on the Thames, all steel girders and original Victorian brickwork, where he owns and occupies the entire top floor. Not only a statement of his wealth and power, it’s a reflection of the man himself: practical, durable, surrounded by strength, beauty and sheer luxury. I wonder what I’m doing in his world.
“You’re punctual. I like that.”
“I was late. Your chauffeur made up for lost time by ignoring all sorts of speed restrictions.”
He smiles but I won’t have him thinking I’m either totally obedient or desperate to see him. Better to maintain my aloofness.
“Won’t you come in?” When he signals for me to cross to him, I answer his command instinctually. He smiles knowingly as his fingers curl around mine. The feeling of his warm skin against mine makes my whole body tingle with awareness.
Jack leans in, his mouth closing the distance to mine but I turn my head aside. After the boardroom, it’s too much. Too soon. His impatience with my rebuff is almost as imperceptible as a tendon tightening before a muscle’s movement, but he kisses me on the cheek instead like we’re two old friends. Leaning back he regards me as I studiously look anywhere but at him. Even so, I feel the air of smug satisfaction about him. I think he enjoys this game as much as I hate it.
Why wouldn’t he? He expects to get his way in the end. He expects to get me.
My eyes are drawn to the sheer wall of glass revealing the Thames river, the lights and the restless nightlife of the city below. Jack, aware of my interest, leads me over and we stand side by side looking down while I imagine some God of Olympus observing all mortal life below him, pausing to tempt the unwary into his heaven.
“I’ll never tire of this view.” Jack turns to me as he says it.
My stomach flips. My heart misfires. Tonight I’m this god’s plaything, nothing more. Icarus flying too close to the sun.
I confront him and my past. “Until something shinier catches your attention.” I’m here for CaidCo’s survival and want to show him I can handle him and his business. And protect myself too.
How easy that will be when my body’s already responding to his, is anybody’s guess. Anyone would think he had the power to fry every impulse between my brain and my body.
“What could I possibly find more captivating to me than this?” Jack’s eyes devour me. He’s a practiced seducer and it hurts to think how he honed those skills. Without me.
Not enjoying the sensations I’m feeling one little bit I turn to stare back out into the twilight.
“Tabitha, let’s leave the world outside just for one night.” Jack splays his hand below the small of my back and turns me into the room. How easily all will escapes me.
“Your home’s beautiful, Jack.” My eyes journey the masculine elegance of the furnishings, the indefinable class of the décor.
He takes my hand in his. “You’re beautiful. And a little scared, I think.”
I pull my hand from his, unwilling to be read so easily.
He simply captures it again. “Don’t you trust me? You’re here now.”
I have to wonder if he thought I’d change my mind. He tugs me gently forward returning to the distractions of a mini tour. “It was an old warehouse but achieving potential takes energy, creativity, patience and desire.” He thinks he’s diverting my nervousness but he’s feeding it.
Defining his own boundaries, his hand brushes casually over the filmy silk at my back as I walk but there’s nothing casual in his touch for me. He leads me to a group of three large, cream leather sofas closing a square before an open central fireplace with a massive Persian rug lying before it.
“Anything can blossom in the right hands.”
I stiffen, wondering if he’s still talking about his apartment conversion. He seems pleased his words disturb me. And he takes far too much pleasure observing my figure in this dress, examining me at leisure all over as I mentally fend off the psychological invasion.
“I’m staring.” He shrugs as if to excuse himself but doesn’t stop. “But you look spectacular in that dress. I remember you wore something the exact same colour. It always looked so pretty against your hair.” He lifts a lock of it and lets it run silkily out through his fingers. “You’re a very desirable woman.”
The dress tightens around me. The strong clench of its bodice barely confines my shape. “I’m not as skinny as I used to be. I think maybe you don’t realise how much I’ve changed.”
He laughs, his eyes lingering unashamedly at my cleavage. “I realise perfectly but it’s quite exquisite. The fit is perfect.”
I’m embarrassed.
“Sit, Tabitha. Make yourself comfortable.”
“Comfortable? This all feels rather awkward.”
“I don’t want you to think that.” He scowls, the familiar lines appearing; the sudden drive of his respiration suggesting he’s controlling his displeasure at my words. He sighs like he’s forcing himself to unwind again. “You’re being honest. Harsh. But honest. And I demand your honesty.”
“Demand it?” I know I sound surprised.
“You know why you’re here. What do you expect?”
Not that. “What do you expect?” Do I really need him to say it out loud?
“I expect plenty, Tabitha. Including your resistance. That doesn’t worry me.” He visibly relaxes. “It excites me.”
I drop onto one of the sofas weakly.
Jack lifts a bottle of vintage Krug from an ice bucket and peels the foil, dropping it onto an ebony and smoked glass side table. “If you don’t wish to be here, you can leave at any time. You’re not my prisoner. You’re here because you want to be.” He loosens the wire cage from the cork, keeping both covered by his hand and well turned away from me.
“I’m here because we made a deal.”
“Yes. The deal.” He rolls the words round his tongue contemptuously and stops what he’s doing for a moment to scrutinise me. He huffs out a half-laugh. “Still the same young woman I remember. Ambitious. Determined. Suspicious of everything and over-reactive. A little too scared of yourself. Of life. Yet here you are. I have high hopes for you, Tabitha Caid.”
“You think you know me but you don’t. I’m not that pathetic child anymore.”
His eyes lift. “Indeed.”
I feel my temperature rising. This is not personal. “The deal?”
“I rather hoped we could enjoy a pleasant evening together. Can you believe that simple truth?”
“I thought I was here so you could… enjoy me.” I can’t look him in the face.
He laughs. “Spontaneous. Just blurting out whatever’s on your mind.” He doesn’t refute my accusation but a faint smile teases at his lips as he lowers his voice. “I do enjoy you. Just being with you. I’m not going to jump on you, Tabitha. Is that what you think? It doesn’t work that way.”
I feel embarrassed and gauche. The opposite of everything I claim to be.
“Please answer my question, Tabitha. Is that what you think of me?”
He manages to make me feel like a fool. Have I presumed he wants something he doesn’t, yet again? My voice is hesitant, unsure. “Something like that.”
“Then you can relax. I don’t need to jump on women.” There’s a note of quelled irritation in his voice. Jack holds the cork and twists the bottle with controlled and exacting force. The two part company with an explosive pop.
I flinch even though I anticipate it. “No. I expect not.”
He barks a harsh laugh at my agreement, my reaction. “Why are you here, Tabitha?” Jack concentrates on pouring the foaming liquid into a pair of crystal flutes, waiting for my answer.
“Our deal,” I remind him.
“You’ve pointed that out already.” He sounds even more annoyed with me. “Then perhaps we should get straight down to business.” He turns and faces me, a glass in each hand.
I try hard to stop my hand trembling as he hands one over and sits beside me. Close beside me, his thighs touching mine. I swallow a huge gulp of Champagne.
“We haven’t negotiated any specific terms beyond having dinner and breakfast together but you clearly think we have. You have so much to learn about bargaining.”
He stares at me so absorbedly I believe he might still jump me despite his declaration. I take another large guzzle. Why must his eyes be so Arctic blue? I swallow more Champagne and he removes the glass from my hand when I try to down what remains completely. He puts it on the table beside his, as yet, untouched drink.
It seems I need to make my position clear. “Will you let CaidCo have a shot at keeping Zee-Com’s advertising account?” I annoy myself for making it sound like a child’s game of marbles.
Jack exhales slowly. He won’t be deflected or rushed. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”
I stare at him. I understand my part of the bargain well enough without innuendo.
“Hesitant to your soul.” Jack looms over me until I think he plans to kiss me. I react, prepare. Stiffen my spine and soften my lips. He halts, hovering above me, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
I give him the benefit of the doubt. “I haven’t eaten much today.”
“Then drink up. We won’t delay dinner any longer.” He tosses back his entire glassful in one go and waits while I take the final sip of mine to finish it off.
“I can see I’ll have to get a whole lot more Champagne down you before you’ll relax around me,” he observes.
I’m not sure how I feel about that either.
Jack lifts the empty glass from my hand and wedges both flutes upside down into the crushed ice between the bottle and the bucket. He scoops up the whole lot in one arm and holds his other out for mine.
“The table’s ready, Tabitha. Come. Let’s forget business for one evening and eat.”
He steadies me onto my feet in my spiked heels, leading me to the far side of the central fireplace where an intimate little table has been set for two.
Jack’s firm, warm grasp sends a spiral of heat winding through my body which tussles with the sensuous slip of cool silk against my skin as I move. I ought to remove my hand from his to vent the building pressure but I thrill to the feel of all that strength and power.
At least I’ve learnt enough to keep those feelings to myself. I’m not comfortable with my own feelings around Jack at all. He calls me beautiful but how easily such lies come to men’s lips when they want something.
Jack deposits the ice bucket at the edge of the table and pulls out a chair, inviting me to sit. Whatever lies he’s spinning are to facilitate his plan to have sex with me. The thought makes me want to bolt for the elevator and not because I don’t want him to, but because I do. Badly. The tension is killing me.
“The table setting looks wonderful.” Tonight I’ll let him take from me what he didn’t want before, not even when I threw it at him. I wince. The hideous memories aren’t far from the surface.