Rules of Negotiation (17 page)

“A month for this.” Her knees hit the edge of the bed and she tumbled onto her back. He lowered himself beside her, guided her by the shoulder and waist onto her side, and then spooned their bodies together, stomach to back, joining them by as much warm skin as possible. Feeling like a teenage boy, he pressed his growing erection against her and looped his hands around to keep playing with the smooth skin of her breasts.

“Oh,” she said.

Brit drew in a ragged breath. He hadn’t been this nervous around a woman since…well, ever. He knew she didn’t want anything serious, and of course, neither did he. But he couldn’t imagine letting her walk away. Not now.

“I realize I sent us in the wrong direction, Tori, but can’t we restart the clock? Start over from here?”

“For a month, you mean. Until you leave.”

Her odd tone made him curse the position that did not allow him to see her face. Had he insulted her somehow? Was it too much, too fast? He licked his suddenly dry lips. Was that sweat forming on his brow?

What was he supposed to say?

“I know you said you don’t do relationships, and I’m heading out of town so I thought…I’m not asking for a commitment. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Of course not. Brit Bencher doesn’t do commitments.”

He had messed up. Gritting his teeth, Brit dropped his head against the back of her neck. Damn it!

“Tori, please stay with me.” His voice was muffled by the fall of her hair.

Her heart had slowed back to a normal rhythm. That could be good or bad.

“All right. But I’m not promising a month. I’m terribly busy at work right now. And we do live in different cities. We’ll have to see how it goes.”

Relief flooded him. He hadn’t even realized until that point that his hands had tightened around her waist. He forced himself to relax and let her go.

“We’ll take it one day at a time,” he promised. “One day at a time.”

…

Tori watched Brit’s chest rise and fall as he drifted off to sleep, his breath coming in slow, even waves.

At times like this, she wished she could cry. She would storm around the bedroom, sobbing and throwing things like a fifties movie star. Her hair would flow in perfect waves around her face, and beautiful, crystal tears would course down her cheeks. She would tell Brit he was an ass of the first order, and he would drop on his knees and beg forgiveness.

But no tears came to her eyes. She wasn’t a film star, or a model, or even a twenty-year-old ingénue. She was a twenty-something lawyer who had just sold her soul to the devil.

He was going to break her heart. Or perhaps it was already broken. Right now it was hard to tell. Something in her had soared that night when they made love. It had been different from anything she had experienced before—rough and yet so tender, unimaginable pleasure and then this pain. This aching pain for the relationship neither of them wanted, but her heart so desperately needed.

She wasn’t so out of touch with her emotions not to recognize that. She needed him. She needed to feel this way. He had brought back to life a part of her she thought had died years ago. Wide-eyed and girlish, it was the part of her that believed in fairy tales and happy endings. It was the part of her that wanted to feel beautiful and sensual, not just smart and ambitious.

But he didn’t want it. He wanted to have sex with her. She forced herself to say the word in her mind. He didn’t want to make love—he wanted to have sex. And just for a month, after which he would leave and recapture the adolescent fantasy he’d been nursing all these years. She didn’t doubt he needed it, just like she needed the fairy tales. The only difference was, he was going to get it, and she never would. There was no happy ending waiting at the end of this story.

All these years, with all the horrible men she’d dated, she thought her problem was her inability to connect deeply. She thought there was something wrong with her when Phil had broken off their engagement and all she’d felt was a vague sense of relief. But nothing could be further from the truth. She’d only known Brit for a matter of weeks, but in that short time he had penetrated her walls of protection and snuck past her formidable defenses. She was vulnerable, terrified, and unable to walk away.

She slid down farther under the covers and rested her hand on his hip. He was so perfectly male, so wonderfully hard and warm. His scent of brandy and spice flooded her senses.

He wanted her for a month.

One month.

And she had said yes.

Two weeks ago, she would have said no. No way would she let him drag her heart over a cliff. But things were different now. He had changed her with his touch, with the admission that he had wrung out of her in the heat of passion. She needed him. She needed to feel like a woman, even if only for a short time.

Tracing the outline of his thigh, Tori bowed her head and accepted her decision. She had to see this thing through. Take the month she’d been given and enjoy every minute.

She knew he would break her heart. She knew in one month she’d be running back to the office, trying to repair the life that she’d always known. But she wasn’t thinking about that now. Right now, she was opening herself to pleasure.

And to pain.

Chapter Seventeen

Gray metal filing carts filled with black binders and expandable folders lined the walls of the twentieth-floor conference room. The stale air reeked of take-out Chinese, coffee, and frustration. The team had already put in fifteen hours of work and everyone wanted to go home. But from the look on Karl Bulcher’s face, home would not be in the cards any time soon. He had appeared in the office around seven, an unexpected visit for a Friday night, and now droned from the head of the conference table about the importance of this transaction, how he needed to know his team was dedicated and committed to putting aside everything else to make this deal happen.

It was either a disciplinary message or a pep talk. With Karl, there wasn’t much of a difference.

Karl was short, with a round belly that could have been jolly had he worn it with a white beard and a twinkle in his eye. Instead, he clothed himself in dark suits and his eyes reflected nothing more than a hard, black stare. Tori had never seen him twinkle. He was cold and precise, rarely showing anger or excitement. When he was agitated, as he was now, he ground out his words as if he were biting through a piece of tough steak.

A buzz at Tori’s hip signaled the arrival of a message. She eased the BlackBerry from its holster and opened the e-mail.

Are you in NYC?

It was Brit.

Stuck in a meeting. May not get out tonight
. She glanced up and down as she wrote. Karl didn’t like to be ignored. Though he expected his own messages to be returned instantly, regardless of where you were, he didn’t like his meetings to be disrupted by people sending e-mails.

Unacceptable. This is our last weekend. I’ll go there.

She almost dropped the device in her lap. Brit? Come to Philadelphia?

I might make it to NYC tomorrow
, she wrote furiously.

Or you might not. I don’t trust you.

Tori could not hide her smile. It had been three weeks since she’d made the decision to let Brit drag her heart off a cliff. They’d spent every weekend together. He sent her flowers and wrote stupid e-mails about his day. He made her laugh and blush, sometimes in the middle of the same meeting. They listened to jazz together and made love until dawn, when, exhausted and sated, they fell asleep in each others’ arms.

But life hadn’t disappeared, and Tori knew her ultimate commitment had to be to her job. Playing around with Brit was fun, perhaps even necessary. But work was her life. Work was the thing that would carry her after he’d left. Work would restore her after he’d lost interest and found someone new.

She wouldn’t fall apart as her mother had, when her father left.

I can work on the train
, she tapped furtively.

You’ll end up in the office. Besides, you’re desperate to see me. You can’t wait until tomorrow.

Unfortunately, that was true. Three weeks had only sharpened her desire for his lean body, and the company of his sharp mind.

Don’t you have work to do?

I’m a short-timer. I don’t do work anymore.

She snorted out loud at that one. Brit might be looking forward to his vacation, but he had a fierce loyalty to the company he had headed for ten years, and he had been working tirelessly to ensure it would be in good hands when he left.

“Tori? Do you have anything to add?” Karl glared at her through bushy gray brows and she jumped guiltily.

“What’s that? Er, no. As usual, you said it all, Karl.”

He narrowed his eyes at the compliment—Karl was nothing if not suspicious—and then turned immediately to expound on the epic responsibility that lay in the hands of everyone around the table.

That’s it. I’m getting in the car. I’ll see you in a few hours.

Tori’s heart dropped. He was serious. She dug her nails into her palms and tried not to panic. At her insistence, they had spent all their weekends at Brit’s place. Tori claimed she wanted to go to New York anyway, to see Melissa. The truth was that she didn’t want Brit in her house. It would be too intimate, somehow, to have him there. His apartment was so clean, so sterile, it was like staying at a hotel. But her house…that was a different story.

I may not be home until ten or eleven.

I’m turning you off. I’ll call you when I’m in Philadelphia.

Fretting over the thought of having Brit appear at her front door almost caused Tori to miss Karl’s half question-half command:

“Now, Tori, why don’t you bring us up to date on the efforts of your diligence team?”

Her fingers trembling with the need to write a stern message to Brit, convincing him to turn around immediately, Tori reluctantly pulled out the ten-page memo detailing each of the potential issues that could have significant repercussions on their acquisition strategy.

She ruthlessly pushed aside all thought of that crooked nose and absurdly broad shoulders barreling toward her in that damn black Mercedes. “I would love to.”

The rest of the meeting was agony. Tori kept a tenuous hold on her emotions and managed to appear professional and competent—or so she hoped. When the lecture was over and the other lawyers had left the room to continue their work in their respective offices, Karl pulled Tori aside.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked, though he clearly expected she would.

“Of course,” Tori said, her mind still spinning. She hadn’t eaten at home all week, so the kitchen would be clean, but the laundry was another matter. Her hamper was overflowing, the towels hadn’t been washed in ages, and who knew when she had last changed her sheets? Not to mention the layer of dust covering the mantle, the pictures on the walls, and the red ceramic mixer her mother had insisted should remain on the counter, in case either of them had the urge to make a loaf of bread.

That had been four years ago, when her mother was still able to cook. The appliance hadn’t been used, or dusted, since. The whole house, really, belonged to her mother. Tori had only bought into the exclusive Chestnut Hill neighborhood because that’s what Jeanne had always wanted. Tori could barely afford the payments, even on the cheapest house she could find, but it made Jeanne happy, and that’s what mattered.

Selling the house now would have felt like a betrayal.

“What can I do for you, Karl? Did you have questions about the employee complaints?”

His already narrow lips tightened, and Tori felt the first flutter of panic. He did not look happy. Had he noticed her e-mailing during the meeting? Lord, she felt like a kid being called before the teacher for passing notes.

“Tori, I’m going to be straight with you. I don’t think the team is working hard enough. Akro is seriously considering taking our work elsewhere.”

She blinked, the words slowly registering in her brain. “I’m not sure I understand. Everyone on the team has made this matter a top priority. We’ve been working fifteen-hour days all month—some of our associates haven’t taken a day off since June. The project is on track for the timeline you gave us. Is there something specific you are concerned about?”

He adjusted the navy blue pants that hung precariously a few inches below his impressive girth. If anything, his eyes grew colder. “I’m concerned about you, Tori. I came in last weekend and you weren’t here. I tried to reach you in the office the weekend before that and you weren’t here then either. To be perfectly frank, you’re the only lawyer in at this firm I give a damn about, and I’m starting to question your dedication to this project.”

“Nothing is more important to me than my work, Karl. You know that.” Adrenaline made her voice quiver. Karl could not be unhappy with her work. He could not.

“I
used
to know that,” he corrected. “Lately I’ve begun to wonder.”

She swallowed hard. “Wonder about me?”

“Yes. It’s not only the weekends. Even when you’re in the office you don’t seem as focused. When I got here tonight, you were sitting around chatting. I certainly hope that time isn’t going to appear on my bill.”

He was right—she had been joking with the other lawyers before he arrived. Usually they worked through dinner, but tonight someone had started talking about a bit they’d heard on
The Daily Show
and they had all started laughing. Before she knew it one of the associates had started doing horrible impressions, and they descended into pure silliness. They needed a break from the tension and it had felt wonderful. But Karl was right—it was out of character for her. Usually Tori didn’t waste time on frivolity.

“We took a break for dinner. You can be assured I would never bill you for that.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I expect to get 100 percent of your attention, Tori. I know plenty of other firms that can give me that attention if you aren’t interested.”

“I intend to deliver 100 percent, Karl.” She straightened her shoulders and ignored the buzzing at her hip. “You won’t be disappointed.”

“I certainly hope not. As for the time line, we’re going to need to move it up a few weeks. I’ve got other issues I need to address this fall and I want this deal wrapped up by then.”

Move the schedule ahead a few weeks? The very thought of it made her knees go weak. She’d have to put everything else in her life on hold.

Everything.

“Of course.” Tori nodded, and tried to keep her expression even.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Karl said.

“See you tomorrow,” Tori echoed.

…

Brit turned on his phone as soon as he caught sight of downtown Philadelphia. He had hoped the drive from New York would give him time to clear his head, but he was as confused now as he had been when he left.

What to do about Tori?

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and shot past a car dawdling in the fast lane.

Beautiful Tori.

Passionate, contrary, brilliant, driven Tori.

He was leaving in five days. Was it possible he would never see her again? Could he really walk away from her? In three short weeks, he’d gotten used to having someone to confide in, someone who would listen to his internal struggles without judgment. Someone who understood him better than he understood himself. Though she rarely confided back, his gut told him that she knew what it was like to feel trapped. Perhaps even more than he did.

She was, without a doubt, the most confusing female he’d ever come across. She resisted all attempts he’d made to drive their relationship deeper. Though he knew she visited her mother regularly at the nursing home, she never discussed it. When he tried to ask about her father, whose leaving had obviously had such a big influence on her, she made a joke and changed the subject. Sometimes he felt as if he understood her no better today than he had the first time they’d met.

Except that wasn’t exactly true. He knew she had led Melissa through her interview with Solen with a combination of professionalism and wit that had instantly put Melissa at ease. A few days later, Melissa had been hard at work for Solen Labs, with a new passion and energy for life that Brit hadn’t seen for years.

In three weeks he’d learned that Tori was smart and funny, and absolutely committed to those who wandered into her circle of protection. He’d learned that their bodies fit together like they were made for each other. She only needed to look at him with her melting brown eyes and he was at her feet, a slave to her pink lips and wickedly sensual hands.

Yes, he knew Tori, but it was despite her best efforts. It was as if she had erected a wall around her private heart, one he could breach only when they made love.

Which brought his thoughts around full circle. He was days from boarding a plane to Scotland, return date unknown, and his only regret would be leaving her behind. On the other hand, did he have a choice? She had made it clear she didn’t want anything more than a short-term affair, and he was hardly going to offer his heart to someone who felt nothing in return. In some ways this weekend felt like a test, a final effort to break down the walls she had erected around her heart to see what, if anything, lay on the other side.

He hit number five on his speed dial.

Tori answered the phone. “Where are you?”

He smiled. She didn’t mince words, his Tori. No “hello, sweetheart,” or “can’t wait to see you, darling.”

“Entering Philly. I have directions; I called to let you know I was close.”

“How did you get directions?” she asked suspiciously.

“Betsy. She e-mailed me earlier today because she knew you were going to be working late.” Thank goodness for Tori’s chatty, nosy, inappropriate secretary. She probably would have mailed him a key to Tori’s house if he had asked.

Tori swore under her breath. “Look, I wish you’d kept your phone on. I’m going to have to work all weekend. You shouldn’t have come down.”

“You’re not working all weekend,” he said.

“Yes, I am.”

“We’ll talk about it when I get there. See you soon.” He closed the phone over her protests. He’d heard her moan about work before. She always brought a stack of documents with her to New York, but with a few well-placed kisses, he’d been able to convince her to put them down.