Perfectly Bad: a bad boy romance (15 page)

Pierce loosened his grip. She pulled away and looked in his face. He was concerned. Confident. Close. Bastard. She slapped his face as hard as she could.

“All right,” she said. “There’s work to be done.”

She had to be strong enough to make it through the rest of the evening. It could not all fall apart now. She had come through too much. Daddy wasn’t going to ruin it, Yvgeny wasn’t going to smash it all down, and Pierce Agostini was not going to take it all away from her.

She was getting her damned club back, whatever it took.

Whether he was more affected by the kiss or the slap, Agostini couldn’t tell, but he certainly was
affected
. This whole thing with Princess was boiling up into something that could get all the way out of control. He needed to take charge of the situation, and fast.

The way that she turned, the girlish arrogance of the swing of her hips—he caught her wrist before he’d even thought it through. Pulled her, yanked her to him. Held her hard against him. Hard enough to feel her little heart pound.

Her voice cracked. “Are you going to force me, Pierce? Will you take me whether I want it or not?”

Her breath was warm on his neck as she panted. He looked in her eyes as he said, “That’s the second time you’ve asked.” He looked at her a long time. The pounding in his veins grew louder. “Sometimes I think that’s exactly what you
do
want, Princess.”

Then her eyes gleamed and flashed as she struggled. But he held her firm. Her hot body heaved against him and the softness of her made him harden more.

He laughed. “That is what you want, isn’t it. You want me to take you so that you can get what you want without having any responsibility for it.” Her eyes blazed as her jaw set. “I can see that I’m right.”

Her hand swung to slap him in the face again but he caught her wrist. He thought about the last slap. Wished for a moment he’d let her have another one before he stopped her. The force of her arm shaking in his tight grip made up for it, though.

Agostini couldn’t remember being this turned on by a girl. And, he’d come to notice, he hadn’t been turned on by another woman since he met her. What was that about?

Her face was red as she struggled. Her thighs shook and her hips slammed against him. “I believe,” he said, “that is what’s called a ‘mixed message.’”

She shook all over and shouted, “Why won’t you let me go?”

He held her tighter, and the tighter he held her, the more he liked it. “Right now? It’s mainly because you don’t want me to.”

She growled. He let her go. He didn’t want to, but he did. She turned and her heels made a thrilling click as she marched away.

Pierce knew that he should have expected Yvgeny to find his way here. Inwardly, he was furious with himself for not having made a plan to deal with him. The encounter was loose. It was slack and uncontrolled.

He had gotten away with it, but it could have gone either way. Around a deal this big, that was no good. There wasn’t time to think about it, though. Something else had to be dealt with right away.

While Callaghan and Calhoun went searching, he took a bottle of bourbon and a tumbler and he set himself up in the new back office. He swung back and forth in the big chair behind the wide, leather-topped desk.

The pool of light from the desk lamp was all of the light that was on in the room. He looked at the empty chair on the other side of the desk. When he heard a knock on the door, he waited. Poured a shot from the bottle and turned it around in the glass to watch the color.

He waited a long time. Maybe two or three minutes. Then he said, “Come.”

Calhoun swung open the door. He and Callaghan entered with Cane squashed between them. Holding the glass, Pierce pointed a finger at the chair in front of the desk. Cane sat down. Flushed in the face, he didn’t look as impeccably groomed as he had earlier, seated in front of the lectern where Agostini gave the address.

Agostini looked at him. Sniffed the bourbon. Put the glass down on the desk very precisely.

“Right on the night of the offer, right in the middle of it, after the presentation,” he said quietly, like he was thinking aloud. Ticking off the points. “Before the auction. All of a sudden, there was Yvgeny.” He looked at the bourbon again. “Quite a surprise, Cane.”

Cane started to jabber. “I know. I was surp—” Pierce looked up at Calhoun. The two Irishmen both laid a hand on Cane’s shoulder. He was quiet. Pierce waited a moment. The pungent tang of Cane’s sweat rose in the warm, still air. The room was silent except for the bass from the music outside and the creaks of Cane’s chair.

“I didn’t ask you a question, Cane.” He looked hard in the man’s eyes, which were darting everywhere. “You should try to keep your attention on me.”

He took another sniff at the bourbon. Cane’s eyes widened.

“Yvgeny didn’t have an invite, obviously. So it’s surprising that he even got wind of the event. That he knew where to come.”

Cane fidgeted. Sweat broke out on his top lip. Pierce couldn’t recall a man sweating that much on the top lip before.
 

“Then, when he got here…” Pierce got up from the chair. Walked around the desk and sat on the edge in front of Cane. “Then he bumped into you. What an astonishing coincidence. You, here by personal invitation.” Agostini had called Cane three days before. And again to confirm, the next afternoon.

He shook his head. “I don’t know, Cane, it kind of looked as though the two of you were expecting to see each other. That couldn’t be, though, could it?”

“I’ll go. I’ll just leave, okay? I’m… I’ll go right away.”

“Oh, no. You aren’t leaving, Cane. That could look odd. We don’t want anything to look odd. You’ll come into the auction, you won’t talk to anyone, you’ll sit down in the same seat as you had before, and you’ll bid. You probably won’t win. And then you’ll leave early. You won’t speak to anyone.”

He looked hard into Cane’s eyes. “You’ll do what I tell you and remember to leave, because if you don’t, you may end up learning more than is healthy for you. You’ll know too much. You don’t want to be in that position, Cane. Not with me.”

Cane’s finger trembled. Pierce said, “Does Yvgeny ask you if you’re afraid of him, Cane?”

Cane nodded quickly. Beads of moisture stood out on his forehead.
 

“Hmm. And when he asks you that, Cane, what do you tell him?”

Cane’s jaw trembled. “I… I tell him yes. That I am.” His hair was becoming wet.

“And it’s true, right?” Pierce’s tone was light. Conversational. “You are. Aren’t you?”

Cane narrowed his eyes. After a moment, he nodded again with his lips pressed together.

Pierce leaned over Cane. Put his hands on the armrests of the chair and lowered his face until his nose almost touched the other man’s. He sniffed a couple of times.

“Are you afraid of me, Cane?”

Cane nodded rapidly.

“Have a drink. It’ll help your nerves.”

Pierce reached back for the glass and handed it to him. Cane was hesitant. He looked from the glass to Agostini’s face, then back to the glass. Pierce held the glass nearer to him. He took it and held it, still uncertain.
 

He looked up at Pierce. Pierce nodded once. Cane sank the bourbon in one fast slug. Agostini took the glass back from him. He put it on the desk and opened the bottle. Carefully, he filled the tumbler. Then he passed the glass back to Cane.

Cane’s lip trembled and his whole face was bursting with sweat. A dark ring around his collar showed how sodden his shirt was. Calhoun and Callaghan gripped his shoulders.

Princess found her father in the games room again, at the poker table. It looked like there was a line of players waiting for a seat. She remembered sadly what he told her about poker years ago.

“Sit down at the table and figure out who’s the rube. If you haven’t got it after two hands, get up. It’s you.” Good advice. Shame he’d forgotten it himself.

Princess had to pull on his arm. She was afraid she might have to call on Callaghan or Calhoun to help her. She silently cursed her father for putting her in this position, where she might need help from her captors, from the people who stole the club from them, to drag him away from a card game.

He snarled as she tugged on his sleeve. She spoke gently to him. “Too much whiskey and not enough luck, Daddy. Time for a break.” But still he shrugged her off.

Then she was saved by the brittle accent of the croupier. “Ladies and gentlemen, play is suspended. Once again, please leave all of your cards and chips exactly where they are. We shall resume in another thirty minutes.”

As she ushered her daddy to the door, Princess saw Pierce with the auctioneer from the farm sale. The gangly caller had a formal suit and a red tie and Pierce was walking with him to the podium.

Cane blundered into the room and made a beeline for the front row of seating. He seemed determined to get the chair that he sat in before. He practically shoved Barney out of the way to get there.

He sat with his legs out and his toes pointed up, long before anyone else seated themselves. But he couldn’t keep still. His head lolled, he kept on slipping down in the chair and having to push himself back up. His eyes rolled like they were floating in liquid.

Barney sat down next to him, but he quickly got up again and fanned his hand over his nose and mouth.

When everyone was seated, Agostini had Calhoun and Callaghan shut the doors and stand by them. The auctioneer stepped up to the lectern. He opened the book and leaned forward over the top of it.

“Ladies…” He looked around. “
Lady
and gentlemen.” A ripple of amusement rumbled through the buyers. “The sale tonight is for options to buy shares in the newly formed company, Fasttracker Dataline. The CEO is Mr. Agostini, who I believe we all know.” He smiled around the audience, building rapport. Princess thought the “we” was a good touch. “The company has three assets, each of them a parcel of land with which I believe you’re familiar. I assume you have all read the prospectus?” He looked around. All of the potential investors nodded, almost all of them said, “Yes.”

“There are one thousand shares issued. The board will retain five hundred and one. The lots tonight will be for all of the remaining shares. They will sell in parcels, or ‘tranches,’ as I believe you financial wizards like to call them.”

He was getting smiles all around. Agostini had made a smart move getting a pro to handle an auction like this. She whispered to Agostini, “Is this even legal?”

He smiled. “’Course it is. Sales of shares have to be regulated, but we’re only selling options to buy.” His eyes twinkled and it made her stomach flip. “Actual trades will go through a broker. This is more fun, though. Don’t you think?”

The auctioneer opened bidding on the first lot. Cane waved his hand immediately. As the bidding rose, Cane’s hand was in the air like a skinny flagpole on a stormy day. The men around him were plainly getting irritated. He didn’t seem to even know what he was doing.

Eventually, the auctioneer said, “Sir? Sir, I’m sorry to ask, but do you know what the bid is?”

Cane sprawled and squirmed in his chair. Almost unintelligibly, he said, “I have to bid.”

The auctioneer shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t accept a bid if you aren’t fully aware of what it is that you’re doing. It wouldn’t be right. Wouldn’t be legal, neither.”

With the gavel raised, he said, “With regret, sir, I’ll give you one more chance to describe the lot and tell me where the bid stands. If you can’t do that, I’ll have to cancel your bids and ask you to leave the sales floor. It’s with you.”

Cane shouted incoherently as Calhoun helped him to his feet. He waved his arms as he was guided to the door, and Calhoun accompanied him out.

Pierce steered her from the room, away from the crowds. Princess was surprised. She thought the sale had gone well and he would want to celebrate. He guided her into a quiet and empty alcove.

“Cane seemed drunk,” Princess whispered as they slid into the corner of the booth. “Like really, wildly drunk.” The innocent way Agostini shrugged made her sure that he knew exactly what had happened.

Agostini looked up as Calhoun burst in on them. He faltered and paused, like he was taking a moment to set his face straight. Calhoun had seen Agostini with women often enough in the past, and in far more advanced states of congress. Here there was nothing happening. Why was Calhoun fighting to keep a grin off his face?

His voice rose over the distant, muffled thud of the music. “Sorry, boss.” and he cleared his throat.

Agostini knew that it was different, though, and the fact that Calhoun could see it unsettled him even more.

Agostini said, “Well?”

Calhoun said, “Well, we seen Dino being led out into Yvgeny’s SUV.” Agostini felt Princess’s muscles tense up against him. “Then he was driven away.” She moved closer in and pressed her body into him. He knew that she could feel the trouble brewing.

He said, “You’re sure that it was Dino?”
 

“Ah, even on a big club night like this, you can’t really mistake the way that Dino dresses, can you?” That much was true.