Playing Dirty: Windy City Kink, Book 3 (3 page)

Chapter Three

Raff looked out his office window as he spoke to Brad Jaworski on the phone. From the fifty-first floor of the Challenger Building on East Randolph Street, he gazed out over Lake Michigan stretching endlessly blue to the horizon. “What’ve you got?” he demanded.

“Couple possibilities. Are you online?”

“Can be. Two secs.” Raff threw himself into the chair behind his desk and put the cell phone onto speaker. Then he tapped on his keyboard.

“I emailed you links,” Brad said. “Check them out.”

In seconds Raff was looking at properties. “Yeah,” he said, clicking with his mouse. “This first one looks good.”

“It’s prime real estate, Mr. Lauden. Can’t do better.”

Raff checked out the other one too, but went back to the first. “Okay. That’s the one. On East Huron.”

“Got it. But it needs some work to make it what she needs.”

“How fast can it be done?”

“I’ll make some calls.”

“A week?”

“Doubtful.”

“Make it happen.”

He heard the brief pause and knew Brad was confused.

“Okay,” Brad said. “A week.”

“Same price as the Stennis Building unit.”

“Yeah. Got that too.”

“You’ll call her this morning?”

“Right away, boss.”

“Call me back as soon as you talk to her.”

“Will do.”

“Thanks. Good job, Brad.”

Raff ended the call and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes. What the fuck was he doing? His team would think he was nuts.

Maybe he was.

But he’d never given a shit what anyone thought of him.

Paige Nelson’s image was seared into his brain. As was the husky softness of her voice and the scent of her perfume—something exotic and vaguely tropical, like coconut and sandalwood, intriguing in the middle of winter in Chicago.

He had no idea what it was about her that had instantly made him want her. He usually went for women who had lots of hair, lots of tits and ass, and long legs. He had no idea what Paige’s legs were like. When he’d first laid eyes on her, she had her pant leg jacked up, but a knee-high boot beneath it revealed only her knee, which had been scratched.

He shook his head. That should not have been attractive to him, but she’d looked so damn cute.

Her ass was sweet, from what he’d seen in the pants she was wearing, although she was a bit on the skinny side. Her beige turtleneck sweater had clung to small breasts. And she had short hair. Blonde, which he liked, but cut into an almost pixie-short style, although her bangs were long enough to brush her eyelashes and make those huge blue eyes look fucking amazing.

Her face was delicate, with fine bone structure like the rest of her—small ears, a short nose, high cheekbones and an almost-pointy chin.

There was something about her, something that appealed to him, grabbing him by the guts and squeezing. Glimpses of sweetness and vulnerability in those gray-blue eyes with long eyelashes. Hints of shadows, but also strength.

Yeah, he wanted her. And it had been a fuck of a long time since he hadn’t gotten what he wanted.

A rueful smile tugged at his lips. Arrogant much?

Whatever. It was true. When he put his mind to something, he accomplished what he wanted to. Okay, so this was different. She was a woman, a young, beautiful, apparently successful woman. She clearly had a mind of her own.

Although he was well aware she hadn’t been unaffected by him. He’d sensed her interest and her attraction, but also her nervousness. What was that about? He frowned.

His executive assistant appeared in his open office door. “I need you to sign off on these reports,” Mark said. “Paul and Ravi will be here for your nine o’clock meeting right away.”

Raff’s days started early with catching up on news, both local and global, and going through emails, anything that Mark hadn’t been able to deal with. Then it was usually meetings, although as often as he could, he liked to get out and check on projects himself. The company was so big now he had to rely on his team to keep him up updated for the most part.

Today he had a lunch scheduled with Gerold Bloomberg, the alderman currently chairing the Zoning and Building Standards Committee, to discuss some changes to municipal zoning laws. Raff needed to maintain the relationship, which had been somewhat strained after Raff lured one of Bloomberg’s key staff to come work for him. It was always a benefit to have someone on board with extensive background in zoning, compliance, permitting and municipal government.

He signed the reports and Mark took them away as Ravi and Paul walked into his office to review the status of the Lakeview West project. Ravi was the vice president overseeing the project and Paul was Senior Vice President of Construction.

Raff was not amused to hear about potential delays because of labor issues at the construction site. “That building is fully leased already,” Raff said. “We can’t have any delays. The contracts all include stiff penalties for missed completion dates.”

“I’m aware of that,” Paul said calmly. “We’re working on it.”

Raff lifted his chin, but he trusted Paul. The guy had nerves of titanium, thank fuck, because Raff had gone through half a dozen VPs of Construction who couldn’t handle the pressure. Paul’s expertise in construction scheduling had kept them from ever missing a completion date under his oversight. “Good,” he said.

Moments into the meeting his cell phone rang. A glance at the screen told him it was Jaworski. “Excuse me,” he said to Paul and Ravi. “I need to take this call.” He answered the phone. “Lauden.”

“Mr. Lauden, I just spoke to Paige Nelson.”

“Okay good.”

“I told her that the other clients had unfortunately taken the spot in the Stennis Building, but we happened to have something else that would appear to meet her needs for the same price. She seemed taken aback but was interested in seeing it. I told her it would take a week to get some minor repairs done but I would take her to see it next week.”

“I’m showing it to her.”

Jaworski’s pause was barely perceptible. “Okay.”

“Send me her contact information and let me know as soon as the space is ready to view.”

“I will.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“Uh. Not really. I mean, I gave her the specs of the unit and we talked about developing it to meet her needs. That’s once we’ve gotten it cleaned up for her.”

“Okay. Thanks, Brad. Keep me posted.”

“I will.”

Raff knew she’d gotten the delivery he’d arranged yesterday. He’d almost thought she would say something to Brad about it, since he wasn’t even sure she knew who he was.

He refocused on the business meeting. As Paul and Ravi left his office shortly after ten, Mark walked in carrying a big box.

Raff frowned at it, recognizing it immediately. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

Mark’s forehead creased. “It was just dropped off at the security desk in the lobby, with your name on it. Do you know what it is?”

“Yeah, I know. Fuck.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing. I mean, cancel my next meeting. Where’s my lunch appointment?”

“Concetta’s at noon.”

“I have to go out. You can set that parcel on the table.”

“Sure thing.”

Raff wanted to growl as he grabbed his coat, scarf and gloves, then hauled up the box he’d sent to Paige Nelson yesterday. Clearly she
did
know who he was or had figured it out.

He rode the elevator to the underground parking garage and tossed the box into the passenger seat of his Bentley, parked conveniently near the elevator. Then he roared out, the concrete walls and floors echoing the rumble of the turbocharged engine.

His near-photographic memory called up the address Paige had given him yesterday. Even if she hadn’t mentioned it, he could’ve gotten it easily from Jaworski.

It didn’t take him long to get there. He parked in a loading zone on the narrow street lined with turn-of-the-century warehouse buildings.

He grabbed the parcel and strode up the cracked and icy sidewalk to the building with her number on it. Jesus fuck, this was not a great neighborhood. He was pretty sure that was a drug deal going down farther up the street. A growl rose in his throat as he located her unit. The door was locked.

Well thank fuck for that. He lifted a hand and laid a series of heavy raps on the door.

It opened seconds later. He looked at an attractive, young African-American woman standing there, one hand on the door. A mass of dark curls framed her face. Her full lips pursed and eyebrows rose quizzically.

“Paige Nelson,” he said. “She here?”

“Yes.” The girl glanced over her shoulder. Then Paige appeared. Her eyes went wide as she took him in.

Christ, she was sweet. Today she was dressed in jeans—low-rise skinny jeans—black, knee-high boots and a black turtleneck that emphasized the creamy ivory of her skin and the pale gold of her hair.

“Mr. Lauden,” she said, crossing her arms. “What are you doing here?”

For some reason, his bad humor disappeared and he grinned. He held out the box. “You know why I’m here.”

Her wide eyes fastened on his face.

“I’ll, uh, get back to work,” the other young woman said and disappeared.

Raff stepped into the space and nudged the door shut behind him. The Black Keys sang “Gold on the Ceiling” but there was no gold ceiling in this place. He swept the room with his gaze and quickly took in the worn hardwood floor, dusty exposed ductwork overhead and the stain on the wall where a pipe had leaked. Also clutter…lots of stuff in not much space. “Here.”

“I can’t accept that.”

“Yes you can.”

“No I can’t. It was completely unnecessary and…”

“And what?”

She lifted her little chin and gave him a frosty look from those big blue eyes. “Grandiose,” she snapped. “Flamboyant. Pompous.”

His eyes widened and then he burst out laughing. “Pompous. No shit. Don’t hold back. Tell me what you really think.”

Her long eyelashes fluttered and her expression softened minutely. “I just did. I’m not impressed, if that’s what you were trying to do. Oh no, wait. You were trying to prevent a lawsuit.”

He couldn’t stop smiling. She was so damn cute. “Yeah, that’s it,” he said. “Terrified of a lawsuit. Skinned knees are worth big bucks in personal injury claims these days.”

“Now you’re making fun of me.”

His smile deepened. “No I’m not. Look, just take the coat and pants. Unless…did they not fit?”

“I didn’t try them on.”

“Hell. You always this stubborn?”

“I’m not stubborn.”

“Uh-huh. Coulda fooled me. Ms. Nelson, please accept these as a token of apology for the mishap yesterday that occurred on my property.”

“You said you’d pay the dry cleaning bill! There was no need to go buy a whole new coat, a very expensive one, I might add.”

“Getting your coat dry cleaned means you’re without it for a few days. This is easier.”

She tilted her head to one side. “So rather than have your clothes dry cleaned, you go buy new ones?”

He laughed again. “I have enough clothes that it’s not a problem.”

“Well, so do I! I do have another coat.”

“Of course you do.”

“Now you’re patronizing me!”

Damn, he was enjoying this. She was scrappy. That worked for him. Big-time. “You’re being defensive.”

“I am not!” Then she turned her face and looked away from him, firming her lips and closing her eyes briefly. “Okay, that did sound defensive.”

“Your eyes look like lilacs when you’re angry,” he said softly.

She took a step back, her face going wary.

Shit.

“Fine,” she muttered. She reached out for the box. “If I take this, will you go away?”

He held on to the large carton, and for a moment they both had their hands on it. His gaze caught on her wrist. The sleeve of her sweater had pulled up a little, exposing a rubber band on her wrist. His eyes fastened on it as he took that in. He’d seen that before, and connections fired in his brain. Someone who needed a little sting, a little pain to center herself… Oh man. That worked for him too.
Really
worked for him. Holy hell. Excitement curled inside him.

He met her eyes. “Probably not.”

Their gazes locked and again he felt it—that pull, that tension, heat building between them as they eyed each other. Hunger and need spiked inside him. When she dropped her gaze, recognition made his heart bump.
Win.

He needed to be patient. Not his strength, but something he’d learned.

“Okay,” he said very softly. “I’ll leave.”

Her eyes flicked back up to meet his.

“But only because I have an important lunch meeting. Tonight I’m taking you to dinner.”

She gazed at him for a moment then said, “No.”

He tipped his head, keeping his eyes locked on her. “That wasn’t an invitation. It was a statement.”

“I’m well aware of that. Which is why I didn’t say ‘no thank you, Mr. Lauden’.”

Another smile broke out on his face and humor warmed his insides.

“A polite request would elicit a polite response,” she added.

Her plucky spirit was fucking turning him on. “If I ask nicely, will you have dinner with me?”

Her eyes went wide and she made a noise of frustration. “What
is
this?”

“Do you have to ask?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“You’re a beautiful woman. I’m attracted to you. It’s as simple as that.”

“And you always get what you want.”

He grinned. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

A reluctant smile curved her lips and she shook her head. “You’re outrageous.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Look, Mr. Lauden—”

“Raff.”

She blinked. “Mr. Lauden. I’m not interested. I’m sorry. That may be a blow to your supersized ego—although why you’re interested in me is a mystery, since I’m fairly certain I am nowhere near the type of woman you usually date—but it’s the truth.”

He released his hold on the box, letting her take it. “I don’t believe you.”

Now her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Cute. “You’re crazy!”

“Open to debate, depending who you talk to. What are you afraid of, Paige?”