One Night for Love (4 page)

“I enjoy profit.” Tristan pulled at one of the cuffs of his shirt. “You mentioned love as a reason you’d be a better owner than I.”

“Excuse me?”

“Love will get you nowhere in business, Miss Baxter. Attachments to the past, disregard for the future—these aren’t attributes but hindrances. Surely you’ve learned these lessons by now?”

Irritation raced through Prim. Love for Metro Media and the people who worked here fueled her drive and powered her through all the nineteen-hour days, all the self-denial, all the work-obsessed goals and stress-inducing negotiations. She wasn’t simply running this company for herself or for Ryan, but for her coworkers as well.

“My love for Metro Media and for my job has served this company well.”

“Maybe,” Tristan said. “I see little use for such feelings in the workplace. The bottom line is a good measure of success.”

“And even by that measure, Metro Media had done exceptionally well.”

Tristan nodded. “It had. You’ve done an excellent job of staying the course over the last year and a half. But perhaps Metro can do even better.”

Heat percolated through Prim. Staying the course? Metro Media had grown. She hadn’t simply stayed the course. In less than a year she’d nearly doubled the value of Metro Media.

“What exactly are your intentions for Metro Media?” Prim asked.

A hint of a smile tugged at Tristan’s lips. If Prim hadn’t spent eight hours in deep carnal exploration with Tristan Rhodes a mere thirty-six hours before, she might have missed the subtle shift in his eyes, a flicker that he quickly concealed.

Her belly pitted with the knowledge that his intentions for Metro Media were the same as they’d been with every company he purchased. He would sit at the table like a great beast and devour Metro Media piece by piece. He’d sell each bit off to the highest bidder until there was nothing but meager scraps. Once sated, he would run off to his next bloody meal.

“I haven’t decided,” Tristan said.

Prim tilted her chin. Perhaps there was an ounce of consideration for a different outcome with Metro Media than the seven slaughtered companies that had gone to their demise. Did she have some wiggle room? A way to convince Tristan to keep Metro together? The tiniest bit of hope glimmered through Prim with Tristan’s words.

“But first …” His tone deepened and sounded rough and sexy, and a thrill raced through Prim; she was more than familiar with this tenor of Tristan’s voice. “We need to decide how to handle what happened.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Prim grabbed a water from the center of the coffee table.

“You could leave now,” Tristan said. “Your contract calls for three months’ service on the transition team for your bonus to vest, but I’m willing to make a payout to you so that we might avoid this.” He waved his hand between them.

Forget her bonus. Leaving Metro Media now would condemn the company she loved to a speedy demise.

“My preference is to stay for the three months,” Prim said. A big bold lie. To run as fast and as far away from Tristan Rhodes and his lush mouth was what she wanted. But if she ran now, her friends and colleagues would end up in the unemployment line, of this she felt certain.

“Hmm.” Tristan cocked one eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t want to get started on your next big career adventure now?”

Prim shook her head and kept a smile plastered to her face. Tristan’s hands rested on his thighs. Those fingers had been inside her. They had pulsed along her most private of spots until she’d screamed in pleasure.

“I … I don’t do those sorts of things,” Prim burst out and immediately regretted her words.

It was as though he fought to keep that wicked smile contained. “What you do or don’t do in your private life isn’t my business.”

Prim sat taller. “While I know it is quite common for a single man in your position to hunt women as though they were big game, I wanted you to know that I don’t do that. That in fact it’s been …” Why was she telling him this? Why did she want to tell him this? Why did she feel the need to prove something to him about her sex life? She was a grown woman, and if she wanted to bed three men in one night she would and she could. She didn’t need to justify anything to him.

“I don’t hunt women,” Tristan said. “I also don’t get involved. I’ve found that focusing on business is what makes me happiest.”

Prim studied him. The attraction was heady and wild and like a living thing that lay on the table between them. How could she pretend the other night hadn’t happened? How would she ignore this desire for three months?

“We agree to put the other night behind us? Act as if it never happened?”

“Yes. Of course,” Prim said. “Not a problem. I’m certain we can work together. It’s only three months.”

“Right,” Tristan said. “Three months. Excellent.” He nodded and his gaze moved from her legs to her eyes. “Then the first thing we should discuss is the potential VOD deal with Flixster.”

“We’ve countered and I’ve been waiting for a response.”

“I just got off the phone with Roger Macon. He’d like to have dinner next week. I told him I’d meet him.”

Prim’s brows creased. “
You
told Roger that you’d meet him?”

“I’m the new owner of Metro Media—”

“And
I
’m the person who brought Flixster to the table and shepherded the negotiations for the last six months. I think it’s important that I’m included,” Prim said. “Don’t you agree?”

A smile broadened across Tristan’s face. A smile that both irritated and caused little twirls of desire to tremble through Prim’s belly. How did he have this effect on her? He caused utter irritation and desire within her at the same time.

“I do,” Tristan said. “You’ve been instrumental in this deal. Please come to dinner. I’ll tell Roger you’ll join us. He speaks highly of you.”

Heat rose to Prim’s face. Roger Macon had nearly begged her for a date for the last six months. She actually didn’t care to go to the dinner and would be more than pleased to hand the negotiation over to Tristan—to anyone at this stage. Why had she just fought for something she didn’t want? Because she felt vulnerable. She was making decisions based on what had happened between them the night before last and her fears about his plans for Metro Media. Tristan stood and so did Prim.

“I’m pleased we have clarity about the other night,” Tristan said.

Her heart fluttered and heat flooded her belly. “Yes, of course.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and her tongue darted over her lips.

Tristan’s eyes followed both movements. “Great,” he said. “Speak to you soon.”

Prim backed toward her desk. Once her door closed, she collapsed into her chair. What the hell was she going to do?

“After last weekend I will never wear another mask,” Prim said. The giant ballroom in Meg and Cole’s Bel Air home echoed with the sound of her and Meg’s high heels on marble. The spot between Meg’s eyebrows creased with empathy. Prim’s best friend since business school, Meg understood the long hard slog required in a business career. Meg had survived being Cole’s executive assistant and snatched TBC away from him before finally marrying him.

“I’m sorry, Prim, but the masquerade ball for Cole’s birthday is already set.”

“Maybe I’ll stay home with a bag of Oreos that night.”

“You will not.” Meg nudged Prim with her elbow. “Besides, Oreos aren’t your style, they’re mine. You tend to run away when you’re upset.”

“Running away didn’t work out so well this time.” Prim pulled her bottom lip under her top teeth. “Layla said I’d meet someone at that party and they would be in my life for a very long while.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I had no idea she meant my new boss.”

“The masseuse again?”

“Her fingertips were magical and her premonitions uncanny.”

They walked through the open French doors and out to the terrace. Drinks and salads waited for them on the table under the giant overhang. They sat and Prim slipped her napkin onto her lap.

“How are you surviving this?” Meg asked.

 “It’s only been a week. We seem to be engaged in a mutual-avoidance policy. We’re in meetings together when we need to be, but we definitely don’t sit anywhere close to each other.”

“How does he act? How do you act?”

“I try to act as if it never happened.” Prim pressed her napkin to her lips. “But that’s nearly impossible. Because the man is …” To say the words would be to give even more power to her physical attraction to Tristan. “He’s hot. I almost melt every time I see him. I mean seriously, Meg, I don’t think I’ve ever been attracted to anyone like this before.”

Meg tilted her water glass to her lips. “That is terribly difficult,” Meg said. “Attracted and yet repelled. I can see it in your face. What is it that you dislike so much?”

Prim stiffened with Meg’s question. “He’s going to dismantle Metro Media. I can feel it. Piece by piece, he is going to break Metro into bits, tear it apart as though he were a wild dog.”

Meg set her fork onto her plate and leaned back. “Quite graphic. I think that’s it for me for lunch.”

“I’m sorry,” Prim said. “I just wish Ryan had come to me first and I’d been able to cobble the financing together to buy Metro myself.” She pursed her lips. “And that I wasn’t so blatantly attracted to the man who wants to destroy the company I desperately love.”

“This was an impulse sale for Ryan, not a reflection of his belief in you or your abilities. He’s still so deep in his grief. When he was approached with the deal from Tristan to buy Metro, I think Ryan simply took it without thinking about the repercussions to you or the company.”

“And now I can do nothing. The next three months I’m supposed to close the outstanding deals and show Tristan all the treasures Metro has so that he can sell them to the highest bidder.”

“You could also spend that time trying to persuade him to keep Metro Media as is. Convince him the company will make more for him as a whole entity than it will chopped up piece by piece.”

“So not his style,” Prim said. She settled her chin into the palm of her hand. “Every company he buys he breaks apart and sells. He seems to treat his companies in much the same way as his love life. Kind of a love-them-and-leave-them technique.”

“Then he must be very uncomfortable.” Meg pushed her salad plate away. “You’re a permanent fixture for three months. I’m certain you’ll do everything you can to convince him to make Metro a permanent fixture as well, even after your departure.”

“To have Metro Media remain after my departure in eleven weeks is my primary goal,” Prim said. “Well, that and to stay out of my boss’s pants.” Prim tore her gaze from the floral centerpiece and looked at her best friend. “You worked with Cole for three years and were attracted to him. How did you do it?”

“Well …” Meg sipped her water. “My situation was a bit different. First Cole and I had never … Well, we’d never—”

“Had sex,” Prim finished for her.

“Right, and I didn’t know whether Cole was attracted to me until just before I left Comnet. I simply knew that I had these feelings and that I would never act on them because of what had happened with my mom. I wanted my promotion and, well, you know the rest.”

“It’s different,” Prim said. “Horribly so.”

Prim closed her eyes. A vision of Tristan standing naked with his hard cock flashed in her mind. Heat flooded her body.

“Unfortunately for me, I
know
we’re attracted to each other.” Prim looked at her best friend. “I’ve seen every bit of that body.” Prim picked up her water and took a long sip.

“This is tricky,” Meg said. “And difficult.”

“No, come on,” Prim said. “I can do this, right? I mean, I’ve had lovers before.”

Meg tilted her head. “Lovers that you couldn’t get out of your mind?”

“For a while,” Prim said. “The newness combined with the taboo of sleeping with my boss is what’s creating this heat. The idea of not being able to have him. If I had him for myself all the time, I’d get bored. Right?”

“Riiiiiiight.” Meg’s voice belied her unspoken thoughts.

Thoughts that Prim shared, though she didn’t want to believe them. The attraction to Tristan was touching something deeper in Prim than simple lust. In Mesquale, she’d surrendered to Tristan in ways that she’d never before surrendered to a man.

Heat throbbed through her sex as she recalled Tristan’s palm landing on her bare ass. She gripped the edge of the table and fought the urge to cover her face with her fingertips. The memory caused heat to flame her face. Embarrassment. Lust. Desire. Even shame burst through her.

“Are you okay?” Meg asked.

Prim took a drink from her water. “Fine,” she said and nodded. “Just considering how difficult the next couple of months will be.”

“You can do this, Prim,” Meg said. “I know you can.”

“I’m happy to hear you so confident,” Prim said. “Because I’m definitely not.”

*

Tristan pulled his Tesla to a stop in front of Prim’s town house. He’d just finished an evening surf session and Santa Monica was an easy pickup from Malibu. With L.A. traffic they had just enough time to get to their dinner meeting. He exited his car and bounded up the walk. Light faded quickly as day bled into night. He stopped.

Prim.

The air was knocked from his lungs by the sight of her. She stood on the top step and locked her door. His eyes roamed up from her high heels. Were those the same high heels from Mesquale? Over her lovely toned calves, up her legs to her thighs, thighs that had wrapped around him and squeezed, thighs that he’d kissed and made Prim tremble with want. Her ass, firm and round and soft. He fought the urge to reach out this very moment and grab the back of her hips and step forward. To press his chest to her back and whisper “Unlock the door” into her ear, which was covered by her beautifully thick black hair.

Her shoulders and arms were bare and the dress was a gold, beaded thing. How could he take his eyes off her? At dinner how would he think about anything other than fucking Prim? He was meant to be discussing acquisitions and numbers and how Metro Media should be in business with Flixster. The V-neck of the liquid gold dress dipped between her beautiful breasts.