Saint James, Elle - Unbridled and Untangled [The Double Rider Men's Club 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (17 page)

“I’m so glad you enjoyed the weekend.” Her cousin sounded genuinely happy, yet astounded.

“I did. Thank you for this. I truly hate to go. It actually hurts me that I’ll probably never see them again.”

“Perhaps your priorities need a refresher. You don’t have to go back, you know. Or better yet, why can’t you maintain a future relationship with these men if you like them?”

“Because if you try to keep a secret, it will always be revealed at the least opportune time. Besides, I’ll be too busy.”

Laurel shrugged, but a mischievous smile played around her lips. “Suit yourself. Even if I ran the world, I’d still make time for the two men I just met this weekend. They are just too delicious to discard easily.” She let out a long sigh and stared across the room.

“Also, thanks for taking the knowledge of this weekend and my participation in it to the grave.”

“No problem. What are cousins for?”

“Depends on the cousin,” Olivia said seriously. “My life is over if Bradford finds out about any part of this.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll never know where we were or the men we were with. Just be cool. Trust me, I’ve hidden my participation for years.”

Olivia nodded, but it would likely take ten years time before she’d believe she was truly safe. She looked over at Dalton and Wade waiting for her to return so they could say their good-byes. Her body actually sagged in disappointment. Ten years was a long time to live without amazing sex and kisses to die for.

With Bradford already suspicious of her whereabouts this weekend, she’d better make her final farewells to the two men who’d changed her sex life forever. Both Dalton and Wade smiled with love in their eyes as she approached.

Would she ever want anyone else besides the two of them? The current answer to that question was a big, fat no.

* * * *

Wade was on a priority mission. He’d enlisted Dalton to help him, but didn’t actually think they’d fare any better with a two-against-one scenario. But he was compelled to try anyway.

The moment Clay opened the door to his security fortress and saw that it was them, he grunted and said, “No. I’m not telling either of you where she is. I don’t care what you try to do to me.”

“We want to send her something,” Wade blurted out before he could slam the door in their faces.

“Like what?” Clay’s face took on an unexpected amused expression. What was
that
about?

“Flowers. We want to send her a nice bouquet.”

Clay suddenly grinned. “Already taken care of. I sent two dozen flowers on your behalf with a nice, nondescript note and your initials. In fact, I sent them to each of the women invited to the annual event. I do it every year.”

“Seriously?” Wade couldn’t believe it. Thwarted with their best idea to gain information about Olivia, and they hadn’t even stepped inside the building.

“It’s all a part of the package that is the DRMC annual event. No detail is overlooked. As new members you likely didn’t know that, but now you do.” He started to close the door.

“Wait. What if we want to send more flowers?”

Clay leaned one shoulder casually against the doorframe. “Give me some money and I’ll see to it.” He held out his hand.

Dalton sighed. “I told you he wouldn’t give up any information. He makes even the most trusted national security agencies look like tattletales.”

Clay grinned again as if he’d just been complimented.

“There has got to be a way.” Wade was undaunted. He’d tried to get Dalton to use his powers at Homeland Security to track her, but he’d patently refused. It was a line Dalton absolutely wouldn’t cross, regardless of how unhappy he was without Olivia in their lives. And he was pretty miserable. They both were.

Clay crossed his arms. “Did you give her your phone numbers before she left?”

“Yes. Why?”

His eyes rolled. “Because, if she has your number and she wants to make contact with you, she will. And if she doesn’t, then leave her alone, or I’ll pop you one.”

Dalton nodded. “If she sends any message to you—”

“Then of course, I’ll let you know every intimate detail of whatever she says,” he interrupted him and said exasperatedly. Then he closed the door firmly in their faces.

Wade walked away from the building with a heavy heart. Saying good-bye to Olivia forever had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. He’d consoled himself with the notion that regardless of what she’d told them before she left, perhaps she’d miss them so much she’d get in touch.

It had only a couple of days since she left, but she still hadn’t called. Dalton didn’t show his emotions as easily, but Wade could tell he missed her, too.

Before they got back into his truck, Wade retrieved his cell phone.

“Who are you calling now?” Dalton asked.

Clay’s voice came over the line. “What do you want, Wade? I’m warning you, my patience has worn thin.”

“I want to give you my credit card number so you can start sending flowers to Olivia every day.”

“Fine. But I plan to tell her that you’re making me do it, and if she tells me to make it stop, I’m listening to her and not you.”

“Whatever. I want her to know we miss her.”

“Well, sending flowers every day should do it. Or possibly make her fill out a restraining order application.”

“Very funny, but I’ll take the chance.”

When he hung up, Dalton laughed. “You are persistent. I’ll give you that.”

Wade shrugged. “I know what I want. I’m willing to make a fool of myself to get it. Besides, what woman doesn’t love to get flowers for any reason?”

He shrugged. “I just hope it doesn’t backfire on us.”

Wade planned to have a positive attitude if and until she told them to stop, but remarked under his breath, “Me, too.”

Chapter Eleven

Olivia was about three seconds away from wrapping her perfectly manicured fingers around Bradford’s skinny neck and squeezing the life out of him with her bare hands. She’d spent much of the last two weeks a mere breath from choking him to death at any given time of the day. This constant state of perpetual homicidal mania likely needed to stop, but every time she tried to step away and ignore her only male cousin, there he was cajoling her for information about where she’d been during her time at the DRMC property.

“I
will
find out one way or another, Olivia. You might as well tell me,” Bradford whined as the two of them entered through the elegantly appointed outer doors of this beautiful mansion to attend a
mandatory
social function for one of their grandfather’s oldest and dearest friends.

It was a birthday celebration, but Olivia found she wasn’t in a very festive mood.

Bradford had seen to that with his endless questions about the short time away that she’d spent with Dalton and Wade. Fending off Bradford’s constant queries about that time made her think about how much she missed them. Not surprisingly, it also made her regret leaving them.

A waiter stood just inside the impressive foyer with a tray of champagne to offer guests the second they stepped inside. Bradford, already two steps ahead of her through the door, picked one flute up, downed the contents in a single gulp, put the glass back on the tray and grabbed another to carry.

Olivia rolled her eyes. Grandfather had pulled her aside earlier and asked her to keep an eye on her cousin and curtail any excessive drinking. As if that was a part of her corporate duties. It wasn’t.

The strong scent of booze mixed with Bradford’s powerful cologne made her wonder how long it would take him to get to staggering drunk tonight.

Selecting her own flute, Olivia suddenly regretted the choice of dress she wore tonight. It was the champagne-tinted beaded one she’d worn not quite two weeks ago at the DRMC annual Stadium event.

She’d always planned to repurpose the dress for tonight’s birthday party. She added quite a few glittering accessories this time around versus the simple gold earrings she’d worn in Colorado. Even dripping in diamonds at her ears, throat, and wrist, and with even a small tiara tucked into the complicated, swept-up hairdo for tonight’s party, didn’t keep Olivia from thinking about where she’d first worn this dress. Or the first time it came off.

The moment she’d slipped the garment over her head while getting ready took her brain right back to their Stadium box. The compelling memory of the expensive fabric sliding over her hips to pool at her feet, as Dalton and Wade played with her nipples, while she watched the Stadium stage, slipped dangerously into her mind. Thoughts like that needed to stay in her distant memory, and not at the forefront.

She focused her attention on the coming evening, but with each step she took, seductive memories invaded her mind. She mentally shook her head to clear it. She needed to focus on the here and now, not the past. But putting her mind on her
supposed
recent promotion in the family company was even worse. The promotion and her instrumental plans to run the company had not worked out the way she expected. At least they hadn’t yet.

Bradford breathing down her neck was bad enough, but then this past couple of weeks had also been fraught with extra drama as she’d attempted to inform the board of directors, led by her grandfather, about her ideas and plans to move the company forward. She’d been summarily shot down on her very first day.

Undaunted and feeling completely in the right of these needed changes, Olivia had scheduled another meeting a week later and tried again. The second time around she’d brought charts and graphs showing sales declines. She then carefully explained about the archaic communications used in their various holdings.

She succinctly explained with confidence that without a very fast injection of state-of-the-art technology and lots of modernization, they’d be left in the dust as to any new contracts to replace the old ones they’d already lost and were continuing to lose. The corporation profits were slowing each month, and the recent profit and loss statement annual trends in her colorful displays showed obvious weakening.

Unfortunately, Grandfather didn’t agree with her in this matter, and neither did the board of directors. They were unwilling to pay to modernize. She’d carefully explained that she already had financial backing for her much-needed business rejuvenation plans, conceding the point that they’d have new partners, but the new investors wouldn’t have close to a controlling interest. Feeling very confident that she’d made her point, Olivia told them she wanted to begin implementation within the month.

Instead, she’d been shot down once again.

The board didn’t want to give up any stock shares or any part of any interest in the company to new financial backers. They felt her investors would only dilute their status as current stockholders. They refused to listen further to her plans.

All of it had culminated in a big blowup with her grandfather after the meeting. They had shouted at each other. Worst of all, there had been a barely concealed threat that her continued role in the family business might be in jeopardy. She and her grandfather had never argued before.

In light of their respect for each other, they’d come to a mutual agreement to avoid talk of any business for a while until some time had passed for him to reevaluate her ideas to see if they any had merit. However, all of the hard feelings and the unexpected disapproval of what she considered vital business tactic for the family company weighed heavily on Olivia. Her grandfather didn’t seem willing to change his mind, and without his support, she had no hope of garnering the board’s vote of approval.

Plus, the sting that if she
was
truly in charge of this business, as she’d been led to believe, then she should already have the authority to modernize or make any changes she felt were needed. Apparently, her auspicious title had different duties than she’d originally been led to believe. The company was going to fail if she didn’t get her grandfather and the board to wake up and smell the obsolescence.