Passion and Surrender (The Billionaire's Temptation Book 6) (15 page)

“How far back does the evidence go?” Marshall needed to know when this all started. Ben had recommended she apply for the job at Clio, but was it to get her into the company so she could steal their designs, or was it something more recent?

“We’ve only found more recent stuff, to be honest, but that’s not necessarily conclusive of anything. We may not have uncovered the evidence yet or she may have been doing a better job of covering her tracks early on.” Keane let out a weary breath. “I’m sorry, Marshall. I really am. I know you’ve been through a lot as of late, and this is just one more headache.”

“I’m heading back to Portmore tomorrow. We’ll deal with this then, though if you find anything else, let me know.” He hung up with Keane, pacing the floor as he tried yet again to slow his racing thoughts.

When he saw the folded papers sticking out of Harper’s purse, he knew he had to have a look, even if he felt like a shit for doing it. Things were dire, and he had to find out if she was the mole. Given that she’d been out with Ben, he needed to know whether or not he could trust her.

He glanced towards the bathroom door. The water was still running as he turned back towards her purse, blocking it from view should she come out. The papers weren’t completely hidden, but then she hadn’t expected him to already be back in the room. He pulled them from her purse—and his heart sank.

Fuck
. He wanted to punch something. Wanted to put his fist through the fucking wall. Wanted to erase the evidence that was quickly mounting.

It was an offer to have her become a partner at a new sex toy company—and the amount they were giving her was beyond generous. Why? Because she was brilliant at her job? Or was it a payment of some sort for being the mole?

He heard the door open behind him. “This vibe needs a charge, so…” Her words trailed off as he turned to face her, his chest tight with hurt and anger.
“What are you doing with my papers, Marshall?”

Chapter Twenty

Harper was stunned, standing there naked without even a towel to cover herself, as the man she’d fallen in love with stood there holding papers that had been in her purse. “What the hell’s going on?”

“I suppose I could ask you the same thing.” The papers were still fisted in Marshall’s hand, his body tense and his gaze fierce. “I want a fucking explanation, Harper. Because there’s a mole in my company, and my brother’s trying to tell me that the evidence is all pointing in your direction.”

It felt like he’d just gutted her with a jagged knife, her body shaking with the shock of his accusation. “You mean to tell me that
you
actually think
I’m
the mole?”

With his jaw clenched, he looked away from her, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before turning his icy-cold gaze back to her, making her feel all the more naked with the sudden turn of events. “I’m trying to find evidence that would prove that you’re
not
the mole, and instead I find this—and from a guy who works for one of the competitors that I suspect has stolen our designs.”

“He wanted me to come work for him at his start-up—
and I said no
. I couldn’t possibly think of working for someone else when I’m in love with you—because, silly me, I’m loyal that way.” When her voice cracked, it left her choking back a sob as she fled for the bathroom, locking it behind her as the tears streamed down her face. She sat there, on the cold tile floor, with her back against the door, trying to stifle her cries as her heart shattered.

“Harper…” Marshall knocked on the door, and she could tell he was just on the other side of it, which only made matters worse, since she wanted nothing more than to go back to the way things were when she’d woken up that morning. “We need to talk. Could you please come out here?”

“Fuck off, Marshall.” How could he think her capable of such a thing? How could he say he loved her, and then suspect her of betraying him? She had opened up to him, she’d taken a risk by falling in love with him, especially after all she’d been through with Josh, and he’d made her believe they could be happy. “How could you think me capable of such a thing?”

“Do you fucking think this has been easy on me? Well, it hasn’t, Harper. And if the evidence is all pointing to you, then you can’t blame me for wanting to take a closer look.” She could hear the pain in his voice, but there was also uncertainty there—uncertainty about her, about them, about their time together—and that was what killed her.

She choked back one last sob, doing her best to harden her heart against the pain, and then forced herself to pull it together. It wasn’t as though she wasn’t used to crumbling relationships and dealing with heartache. And now would be no different. She’d been a fool to think her life could change, to think that being happy would be anything but fleeting.

Wiping her tears away, she turned off the water, which was still filling the tub, and then got dressed, though she wasn’t sure how she could face him, how she could look at him again and not be reminded that he didn’t trust her. She just had to grab her things and get the hell out of there.

With her hand on the cold brass knob, she squeezed her eyes shut against the burning tears and took a deep breath to steady herself, before pulling the door open.

“Harper…” Marshall grabbed her wrist as she tried to slip past him.

“Don’t touch me, Marshall.” She tried to pull free of his grasp but he wasn’t letting her go.

“Can we please talk about this?” He turned her towards him so she was forced to face him, though looking him in the eyes only sent her tears streaming down her face. With a sigh, his hold on her softened and then, when she didn’t bolt, he reached up and cupped her face, drying her tears, his touch only fueling her emotions.

“What the hell is there to talk about if you could not only think me capable of that sort of betrayal, but actually think I’m guilty of being the mole?” Her hurt was now spiked through with anger, making her a furious mess. “I took a risk on this thing between us and opened up to you, let down the walls that were keeping me safe. And the first chance you got, at the very first opportunity to question our relationship, our love, you did just that instead of trusting what was between us—instead of trusting me.”

“I was hoping to find something that proved you were innocent, Harper, so please don’t go thinking the worst of me.” She’d give him credit for truly looking distraught over the whole thing, but he’d broken her heart and tossed away her trust, and she didn’t think she could ever look at him again and not feel crushed by the pain.

“If you wanted to prove my innocence, then maybe you should have started by speaking to me, rather than snooping through my things.” She turned away from him and grabbed her things off the dresser, tossing them into her suitcase.

“Could you please stop so we can talk about this? For fuck’s sake.” He grasped both her hands to keep her from packing up more of her things, and sat them down on the edge of the bed so they were eye to eye, though she could only look at him through shimmering tears. “You know I didn’t want to believe it was you—but when you came back from your meeting with Ben, it caught me off guard, especially when I’d just given you the passcodes to my entire life. You had access to everything, and Keane said there was evidence on your computer and your desk back at Clio. What the fuck was I supposed to do, Harper?”

“You’re kidding…back in Portmore?” She felt the blood drain from her face. What the hell was going on? “I don’t know what they could possibly have found, Marshall, because I have
never
betrayed you or Clio.
I would never
. And you should fucking know that.”

“Well, I’m fucking sorry, Harper. I know this thing between us happened quickly, but…it’s not like we really know each other all that well. You said you had problems you were dealing with. It’s not exactly a stretch to think that you’re desperate to get your father treatment and decided that stealing our designs would be lucrative enough to give you the cash that you need.”

“And that’s part of the problem—that I did fall for you awfully fast. But I guess I was nothing but a fool to think we’d connected on a different level…one where the little things we didn’t know about each other didn’t matter because we were in love. That we’d still have time to discover what we didn’t yet know, because we already had what was important.” What a fucking idiot she’d been. “But I guess that’s not going to happen, because there’s nothing more to say. And just in case you’re worried about firing me, don’t bother. I quit.”

“Harper…” He twined his fingers with hers, but even that felt halfhearted, as if he still didn’t know whether she was telling him the truth. “Can we please just get back to Portmore so we can get this sorted out?”

“As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing to sort out. And I get it, Marshall. I really do. This is your company. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less and it doesn’t mean that things aren’t over between us.” She pulled free of his grasp, and with tears streaming down her face once more, she packed up the rest of her things.

Without a second glance at Marshall, she left him there and walked out the door—
and he let her go
.

***

Harper took a taxi to the airport and sat there, not quite sure what to do. She was already an emotional wreck, and the chances of her actually making it onto the plane alone and managing to control her fears were slim to none. She swiped at her tears, and with shaky hands, pulled out her cell, hating to bother anyone with her problems.

If anyone would come to her rescue, it’d be her twin cousins, Hawke and Archer. Though she was the poor relation of the family, the twins had a small fortune at their disposal, and the truth was that if she got desperate enough for her father, they were the ones she would have turned to—not stealing designs from Clio for money. As it was, they’d offered time and again, but she didn’t want their money. However, right about now, she’d happily take whatever help Hawke or Archer could give her in talking her down off the ledge, her nerves about flying just too much to handle.

“Archer?” Simply hearing his voice when he answered his cell had her choking back her tears. “I need your help.”

She explained that she was sort of stranded in London, attempting to get on a plane alone, and just needed him to talk to her, to distract her and tell her she could do this…just until she was calm enough to get on the plane.

“Let me come get you, Harper. I’m currently in Vienna for a gallery showing of Hawke’s paintings. I could be there in just a few hours.”

***

True to his word, Archer pulled Harper into his protective arms just a little while later and held her while she wept, her heart shattered and the stress of the day pushing her to her breaking point. “Come on, pumpkin. Let’s get you home. You can tell me all about it during the flight.”

Archer’s private jet taxied the runway and then revved its engines for takeoff, sending her heart pounding inside her chest. Desperate for a distraction, she told him about Marshall and everything that happened as Archer held her in a brotherly hug, keeping her fears at bay. “I just don’t understand how he could think me capable of something so awful. And if I was the mole, then why the hell would I show him my own designs?”

“Well, he’s clearly an asshole and an idiot for ruining things with you. You’re better off without him, as far as I’m concerned.” Always protective of her, Archer was genuinely pissed off about the way Marshall had treated her. “Maybe you should come out to the island for a bit. You know Hawke would love to see you, and there’s no way this prick of a boss could bother you.”

Given that Archer and Hawke lived on a small private island off the coast of Maine and liked their privacy, Archer wasn’t kidding about Marshall not being able to bother her—at least not without a whole lot of trouble, since the island was under the name of a dummy corporation. “I’d love to come visit—you know that. But I’ve got my dad to worry about, since my brother is useless. And then there’s Moose, though he loves you guys.”

“I know you never want any help, but I’m going to insist this time. Your dad’s going to get the help he needs and you and Moose are coming for a visit.” He put his hand up to stop her when she started to protest. “You no longer get a say in this, since you’re too stubborn for your own good. Besides, Moose likes hanging out with Guinness, and that mutt needs a distraction.”

The fact that she could so easily take off to the island only served to remind her that she no longer had a job. “How the hell did my life turn to such shit? It’s even worse than it was—and that’s saying something.”

“We’ll get you back on your feet, Harper. You have my word.”

It was a sweet sentiment, but with her heart breaking as she thought of Marshall, she didn’t know how she’d pull it together.

Chapter Twenty-One

By the time Marshall got back to Portmore, he was downright miserable. Once Harper had gone, he’d had far too much time on his hands, which meant their argument had played in an endless loop through his head. Before he even headed home, he swung by her place, though what he was hoping to accomplish he hadn’t a goddamn clue.

He felt like such an ass. But what the fuck was he supposed to do? He’d only wanted to prove that she was innocent—but she’d been right. Digging through her things would have only proved her guilt or continued to feed his suspicions until he could find more evidence. Even worse, he’d let her go. He’d let her walk away, and hadn’t gone after her. He’d let her find her own way back home, even if he’d held the plane as long as they’d allowed him to, with the hope she’d show up. She hadn’t. And he knew how difficult flying was for her.

Marshall just needed to get to the bottom of this mess with the thefts, though first, he had to try to smooth things over with Harper. Every bone in his body told him she wasn’t the mole, even if the evidence pointed to her.

With luck, Keane would have more for him to go on, because at this point, he needed some hard evidence so he’d know exactly where he stood with Harper—other than in the doghouse. And it didn’t matter if things were still unresolved; he had to see her—except for the little problem of her not being home.

Panic slithered through his veins. Where the hell was she? Did she ever make it out of London, or was she still there, too panicked to get on a plane?
He was such a fucking ass
. How could he have abandoned her like that? Did she even have the money for a flight?
Fucking hell…what had he done?

He pounded on her door again, desperately hoping she’d answer the door, that she’d been sleeping or showering. Anything other than not being home. Her cat—Moose. He’d paid for a sitter. Maybe she knew if Harper had returned.

Pulling out his phone, he tracked down the number for the sitter and dialed it, relief washing over him when she told him that she’d spoken to Harper, who was back and would no longer require her services. And no…she didn’t mention that she’d be going anywhere.

Hanging up with the sitter, he dialed Harper’s number. Eventually the call went to voicemail. “Harper…we need to talk. Please… Where the hell are you? Call me, okay? I’m worried about you, sunshine.”

He hung up, disheartened and feeling fucking crazy.

Keane better have more answers for him, because he needed to get this mess sorted, and the longer he waited, the worse things would be with Harper. Unless, of course, Keane was right, and she was in fact the mole, even though he was having a hard time wrapping his head around it, his heart refusing to believe it.

Yet, hadn’t he been mistaken about Claire? How could he trust his judgment anymore? The truth was that he couldn’t. And that’s why he needed hard proof that Harper was or wasn’t innocent. Until then, there was little he could do.

Marshall found Keane in his office with Hadley and one of her employees, still hunting down the evidence they needed. Keane handed him a report, the mood in the room somber. “Here’s the evidence we have so far. It’s the dates and times she accessed the files in question.”

“But how do we know it’s her and not someone using her identity to log in?” He flipped through the evidence, refusing to believe it was true.

Hadley came around the desk from where she’d been working. “That is certainly a possibility, though if that is indeed what’s happening here, then they’d have to have a certain amount of information, like her password, and they’d need to have easy access to her computer. I’m hoping to get access to her financial records, to see if any large deposits of money were made into any of her accounts, but…as of this moment, there’s still no reason to think that it’s someone other than her.”

“Other than the fact that I know her and don’t think she’s capable of doing this. She brought me some new designs that are brilliant. Why would she do that if she was only going to turn around and sell the designs to our competitors? And someone could easily find out her password if they work in the same department as her. It wouldn’t be difficult to look over her shoulder during casual conversation while she logged in.” There had to be a logical explanation. “What about Claire? If there’s anyone who wants to make my life miserable, it’s her.”

Marshall would much rather think Claire to be the guilty party than Harper. Because thinking Harper capable of such betrayal was fucking killing him.

“Dr. Foley…I know you want to believe she’s innocent due to your relationship, and I promise you that we’ll do all we can to make sure the proof is conclusive before giving you our final report.” Hadley flipped through some more reports before continuing. “Most of the files and log-ins occurred during business hours, when she’d normally be here. So unless she called in sick but the files were still accessed, it’s unlikely she’ll have an alibi to prove it wasn’t her, which means the evidence will still stand as her being the mole. That said, whether or not you want to press charges is up to you.”

It’d be hard to get Harper to verify any of the evidence or go through the logs to help prove her innocence when he didn’t know where the hell she was and she wasn’t answering any of his calls. “There’s one more thing I need you to do—I need you to find her. Do whatever it takes.”

He turned to go when Keane put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Marshall, if you need to talk… And in the meantime, we’ll look to see if there’s anyone else involved.”

“I appreciate it.” He was in no mood to stay at the office, but he needed to swing by her desk to see if there was anything she’d left behind that might tell him where she was. And he needed a copy of her personnel file. Maybe her brother or father knew where she’d gone, though he’d try her place again, on the off chance she’d shown up, though it’d likely only serve to remind him that she was long gone.

***

The department Harper had worked in really wasn’t all that big, with only half a dozen employees working there, though most of them were wrapping up for the day. There was certainly a tension in the air, and he had no doubt that with Keane and Hadley investigating, rumors and speculation were likely running rampant.

“Todd, can you point me to any areas where Harper might stash away her things—and any projects or papers.” Todd had been with Clio from the start and though he was the one who’d hired Harper, Marshall wasn’t quite ready to tell him that Harper had quit.

“Marshall…what’s going on? Keane’s said very little, but they’ve been through all our computers and files, and I haven’t heard from Harper since she left with you for the convention.” Todd led the way to her desk, though he was looking rather exasperated and stressed out. “This is it for the most part, though we’ve also got cubbies for our jackets and things.”

“I’m not sure when Harper will be back, though I’ll be sure to let you know.” Marshall didn’t want to say too much, nor did he want to linger with Todd looking over his shoulder. “If you could get me a copy of her personnel file, I’d appreciate it.”

With Todd off to get Harper’s info, Marshall sat down at her desk, doing his best to ignore the tightening around his chest. Fuck…he loved her. And seeing the little personal items around her desk only reminded him of just how hard he’d fallen for her. There was a picture of her cat, Moose; a family photo of her with her dad; another of her with her friends at MIT. A few miniature metal tavern puzzles were tucked off to one side, along with a POP superhero doll of Thor, piles of sticky note pads, and various designs and schematics pinned to a corkboard.

He flipped through the calendar on her desk, though the last week or two had been left blank, no doubt due to the fact that she’d been working with him and then he’d dragged her off to London. But then he thought of something…Harper may not have been sick recently, but what if her computer had been accessed while she’d been in his office working with him on those new designs, or while he’d taken her to breakfast or to Aria’s? He could check those times against that log Keane had given him, and just maybe it’d prove it couldn’t have possibly been her.

It was a small ray of hope and he held onto that, ending his search of her desk, since he couldn’t help but feel like he was snooping once again. Disgusted with himself and the situation in general, he got to his feet just as Todd returned with the papers he’d asked for.

“Thanks for the copy. I’ll keep you updated. And in the meantime, you can start looking for a new hire.” Marshall hated to have Harper’s position filled, but even if she was innocent and he somehow convinced her to come back to Clio, he was still hoping she’d work with him directly, even though there was a far better chance she’d tell him to go fuck himself.

“I don’t know what trouble she’s gotten herself into, but…I do like her, Marshall, even if she’s been a bit distant lately.” It felt like Todd was trying to imply something, but he wasn’t sure what, and at this point, he was in no mood to hear it.

“I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on, but she’s innocent until proved otherwise.” Something he, too, should have remembered.

Desperate to find her, he swung by her home again—only to be disappointed.
Fuck
. Where the hell had she gone? With his mood dark and vile, he headed home, in no state to deal with anyone else, and knowing he’d get nothing done at work if he headed back to his office.

Once at home, he poured himself a whiskey and then took a look at the papers he had in front of him, wanting to sort through the logs and other information Keane and Hadley had gathered. The log Keane had given him had a list of which files had been accessed, along with a detailed account of when and where. Yet the activity incriminating her hadn’t started until just recently. He looked at the dates and information, and though everything pointed to Harper, something still felt off.

He pulled up his calendar and backtracked through the dates, from London back to the dates when Harper first started working directly with him. The files had indeed been accessed during that time period. Yet he knew Keane would point out that it’d be easy enough for her to excuse herself to use the restroom or grab a cup of coffee and then sneak back to her desk.

What Marshall needed were the dates and times he’d been with her out of the office. Using his receipts for their trips to the diner and to Aria’s boutique, he matched them against the log.
Yes
. It was just one instance, early enough in the morning when they were at the diner, but unless she’d somehow managed to get from the diner to her desk in six minutes when it was at least a twenty-minute drive, then he had the proof he needed.

It felt so fucking good to know she hadn’t betrayed him, to know that he hadn’t been wrong about her. And yet it only meant that he’d truly fucked up, and she’d have every right to never forgive him.

When his phone vibrated, he made a quick grab for it, hoping it was Harper, only to have disappointment and anger flood through his veins when he realized it was Claire. He sent it to voicemail, but she called back again—
and again
—trying his patience. On the fifth time, he gave in and answered it. “What the hell, Claire?”

She sobbed on the other end, making him feel like a shit. “Marshall…I need you. Please…the baby…”

“What’s going on? Are you okay—
the baby
?” He couldn’t help but worry. Despite everything Claire had put him through, there was still a child involved. At least he thought there was.

“Can you come over? I don’t know what to do. I think there’s something wrong.” The tone of her voice and her request to go over to her place had him rethinking the truth of her words.

“If there’s something wrong, then you need to call your doctor, Claire.” He hated to be standoffish, but the truth was that she’d never given him any documents to prove she was pregnant, even after he’d repeatedly asked for them. For all he knew, it was just another lie.

“You still don’t think I’m pregnant, do you?” Nastiness laced through her words, reminding him of just how manipulative she could be.

“No—I don’t. Furthermore, I think this is about the time when you’ll feign losing the baby, because it doesn’t actually exist.” Her silence made him think he’d just hit the nail on the head. “Give up the charade, Claire, and sign the fucking divorce papers. It’s not like you ever loved me anyway.”

“I bet you think you’re just so smart. Well, you’re not. I’m going to take you down, and make sure you stay lonely and miserable, so you know that I was the best thing that ever happened to you.”
Stay lonely and miserable
…how the fuck did she know? When he didn’t say anything, she couldn’t help but continue to try to bait him. “You think I don’t know that the slut you’ve been sleeping with has left you? Took you for a ride and used you? Well, I do. Not that it’s that big of a surprise.”

“I’m hanging up now—and don’t call me again. Don’t show up. Don’t fucking talk to me. If you have something to say, you do so through our lawyers. I’m filing a restraining order against you. And if you set foot on Clio property again, I’m going to have your sorry ass arrested. Are we clear? No babies, no manipulations, no tantrums. You need to stay the fuck away from me—and if you are behind the thefts at Clio, I’m going to make sure you get fitted with an orange jumpsuit—and I can fucking guarantee they don’t do designer in prison.”