Stolen (Book One) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (10 page)

“Please just stop. You’re making it worse. Honestly.”

“How could I make it worse? This is ridiculous. You need to call the office and try to get the job back. Tell them you were ill with the flu and you had to go to the hospital and now you’re better,” Hannah said. “You can’t pass this up.”

“I’m not working for him.”

“But why not? Why not even try?”

She grit her teeth. “Because. I told you. I’m not cut out for this city. I hate it here.” She stood up and clenched her fists. “I’m going to leave. I’ll pay my share of the rent until you find a replacement—“

“Great, so you’re just going to ditch me at the first sign of trouble. Really nice, Siggy.”

“I told you not to call me Siggy right now.”

“Why? That’s what we call you.”

“Because we’re arguing and I’m upset, and that’s a child’s name.”

“Well then, stop acting like a spoiled little brat,” Hannah said bluntly.

Sigourney opened her mouth to tell her best friend she could go fuck herself. But then she shut her mouth, knowing that it would only make matters worse and potentially cripple their friendship.

She turned and went into her room, shut the door and crawled under the covers.

Outside, she could hear Hannah angrily stomping around and muttering.

***

S
he must have been more exhausted
than she even realized, because before Sigourney knew it, she’d fallen deeply asleep.

She missed the three calls from her mother and the call from her younger brother Alex.

At some point in the night, she had a vivid dream.

In the dream, she was lying in bed with Orlando Parker. They were both completely nude, and his erection was pressing between her legs, and it felt amazing.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to him. “I got scared.”

“Because you wanted this,” he said, his voice playful and yet also insistent. His erection penetrated her, and she cried out with pure bliss and excitement.

“I wanted it so bad, Orlando.”

“And now you’ve got it.” He pumped his hips, giving her more and more pleasure, and she began to climax in his arms.

She’d never felt so good, so happy, so warm as she released all over him.

“Oh, God, Orlando. Oh, God, I love you,” she told him.

When she woke up again, it was early morning—just past five. But she instantly recalled the dream and her body flushed with the remembrance of how intimate and exciting it had been.

It felt somehow real, and it made her miss him.

She was pining for Orlando Parker because of a ridiculous dream. A dream that had made her come.

She was still wet between her legs from it. She’d been gushing in her sleep. It was pure insanity.

But the warm feeling hadn’t left her, and somehow after a restful night’s sleep and that potent dream, she felt more courageous and less fearful.

Sigourney got up and went to the bathroom, took a bath, shaved her legs, armpits and even her pussy. She felt sexy and excited.

Then she took plenty of time applying lotion to her entire body, getting dressed in the one nice outfit she owned—a light summer dress that wasn’t formal enough but would have to do.

She couldn’t go and bug Hannah for another outfit to steal, especially not after their big blowout last night.

When Sigourney was done applying makeup and doing her hair, she looked at herself in the mirror and decided the outcome wasn’t half bad.

If anything, she looked better than she had yesterday.

Maybe that wasn’t much, but it was something.

So what? So what if you look better? What are you actually planning on doing?
She asked herself.

She didn’t exactly know. Somehow, the combination of being humiliated yesterday, the prospect of leaving New York without having taken one real risk, and the exciting dream she’d had about Orlando Parker—everything together had made a potent cocktail that had steeled her resolve.

She had to at least try. If she left the city, she wanted to leave knowing she had one real story to tell about that crazy thing she did when she was twenty-one and desperate.

By seven o’clock she was out the door, then on the train, and finally she was exiting the subway station and walking with the throngs of people, just like yesterday.

Only this time she walked with purpose and confidence.

I know where I’m going
, she told herself. She held her head high.

I’ve got nothing to lose. And I might as well try.

When she entered the Parker Capital building this time, she approached the front desk briskly. “Hello, I’m here to see Mister Parker,” she announced.

The men shot each other glances, as if to say, “Uh oh. That crazy chick is back.”

“Do you have an appointment, ma’am?” said the one.

“Not exactly, but I think he’d be interested to know I’m here. My name is Sigourney Beckett,” she said, taking care to spell her first and last name for the attendant, just in case.

He nodded, suppressing a smirk. “Sure thing. Have a seat, ma’am,” he said. “I’ll let you know when we hear something.”

She nodded and went to the bench closest to the desk.

The men exchanged glances again.

For about fifteen or twenty minutes, she watched the attendants do their jobs as people filtered into the building.

A particularly unpleasant moment came when the nasty receptionist from the previous day entered the building and noticed Sigourney waiting on the bench. Her eyes widened and then narrowed, and she shook her head and kept walking.

Did she know what had happened?

Was the entire building gossiping about her already?

Sigourney felt shame heat her cheeks, and for the first time, some of her confidence and boldness began to fade.

The memory of her vivid dream was also fading fast.

It hadn’t been real. It had been her imagination working overtime to console her in the face of a complete and utter humiliation. She’d choked and blown her one chance, and now she was acting the fool.

When half an hour had passed, she stood up and approached the front desk more timidly this time. “Excuse me, I was just wondering…”

“Yes, ma’am, we’ve let Mr. Parker know that you’re waiting. He’s very busy but we’ll let you know if he frees up.”

“Did he say if I should wait or—“

“He didn’t specify, ma’am. You can stay or we can have someone call you with any updates,” the attendant said, not seeming to care either way.

She bit her lip and thought about it. Could this be a test?

Maybe he wanted to see if she would show any gumption or tenaciousness. Doubtful, but she clung to the faint hope based on the fact that nobody had expressly told her to leave yet.

“I guess I’ll wait,” she said, smiling as brightly as she could.

She went back to her bench and sat.

Minutes turned into another half hour, and then another, and then hours were passing. She read the Internet on her phone and watched people come and go through the building.

Around noon, people began leaving the building and returning with food bought at nearby restaurants and cafes and stores. Everyone was chatting happily, busy and successful and she was invisible.

At around two o’clock,
he
came out of the elevator.

His appearance was so sudden that he almost seemed like an apparition—like she was imagining him into being.

Orlando was walking with a tall, elegant blond woman and an older man with white hair. The three of them were thick as thieves, laughing together as they walked past her.

If Orlando Parker had seen her, he didn’t show it. He seemed to not even know she existed.

“Excuse me!” she called out, jumping to her feet.

The three of them turned their heads at once. It would’ve been comical, if she wasn’t so hurt and angry.

“I’ve been waiting here all morning,” she said to Orlando.

The others were puzzled. Orlando seemed completely cold and indifferent to her presence. “I have a lunch meeting,” he told her calmly.

“So, should I wait? Will you meet with me—“

He shook his head. “It’s not going to work out, Miss Beckett.” Then he turned his attention back to his friends and they all began walking again.

“You’re a very rude man!” she shouted, suddenly.

This time, the entire lobby seemed to fall into a hush.

She hadn’t known she was going to yell anything until the words left her lips. But she didn’t back down. It was too late to back down. Instead, she stood up and grabbed her purse and phone. “You could’ve at least had the decency to not make me sit here like a fool all morning!” she continued, as she gathered her things and prepared to leave.

Already, she could see security heading her way.

Orlando said something to his colleagues and they exchanged a few brief words before leaving without him.

Now he walked quickly towards her, his eyes raging. “Come with me, right now,” he said, grabbing her tightly by the wrist.

His grip was like a vice, but the discomfort that shot through her arm also inflamed something else. Her nipples were hard again and she felt the heat move from her toes to her neck.

He pulled her past the front desk and even security. “It’s fine,” he told them. “I’m handling it.” And then he pushed open a nearby door and lights turned on in an empty conference room. “Get in there,” he said in a rough voice.

She stumbled in and he shut the door, folding his arms and glaring at her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

She moved away from him. He was like a caged lion, and she felt afraid. “I was trying to have a word with you,” she said, hating the whiny sound in her voice.

“You had your chance,” he shot back.

“You could’ve told me that this morning instead of pretending like you might meet with me—“

“It’s called being polite,” Orlando said. His dark eyes softened just a little. “Look,” he said, calming slightly. “You seem a nice girl, Miss Beckett. But it turns out that I was wrong about you. You’re not…I suppose the word is stable. You’re not stable enough for this kind of environment.”

She stared at him momentarily.

God, he was gorgeous. And sexy. Yes, he was sexy as hell. His body was taut and muscular, his skin exquisite, his eyes mysterious and intelligent. He was by far the most dashing, handsome man she’d ever met.

But he was a complete jerk.

“Well,” she said, putting her hand on her hip. “Fine, I suppose you’re right. I’m not cut out for New York. But yesterday you seemed very interested in me.”

“That was yesterday. And today’s a new day and things change.”

“I don’t think they change that much,” she replied, smirking.

His eyes grew cool and watchful. “You’re trying to be cute and it’s not working. I have one piece of advice, Miss Beckett.”

“Oh, and what’s that,
Mr. Parker
?” she said snidely.

“Grow up,” he said simply, and then put his hand on the door handle as if to leave.

She let out a loud bark of laughter.

He stood there, his back expanding with tension.

She laughed again, louder this time.

He turned to face her. “Don’t pretend you want something that you don’t want,” he told her now.

It was a real warning.

She knew that he had given her opportunities to exit the situation and she’d recklessly continued onward, ignoring all signs and warnings up until this point.

The smile died on her lips. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, only realizing afterward that it was a lie.

“Do not play with me, Miss Beckett. Understand?” His voice had lowered, but somehow the effect of it seemed louder in her ears, as her heart began thumping.

The energy in the room had changed definitively. “I…I don’t know what you’re even talking about,” she insisted.

“You wasted my time yesterday,” he growled, moving towards her now, coming around the table, stalking her.

“I didn’t intend—“

“Your intentions are of absolutely no consequence to me,” he interrupted, coming closer still. Now she could see his face up close, see the light shade of stubble on his jaw, the trim, perfect hair glimmering with gel and styled just so on his head. She could even smell his scent, fresh and masculine all at once.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time. I just—I wanted to come here and apologize and ask you if you might reconsider…if I might still have the position you offered me yesterday?” Her voice quivered as she spoke.

His lips pressed together. Then he pointed at her. “What I was willing to offer you yesterday no longer exists. Now the terms have changed. Substantially.”

“Okay, I’m happy to consider—“

“There is no negotiation, Miss Beckett. No more question and answer sessions. No more patty cake. I tell you how it’s going to be and you either accept my terms, or you leave and never darken my doorway again.”

She gulped audibly. “I’m…I’m listening,” she croaked.

He was closer still. His lips were close enough that she could even lean in and kiss them if she wanted. And she did want to. Badly.

“You will be not just my personal assistant, but you will do
all
of my bidding. That means everything and anything I order you to do. If I tell you to get on your hands and knees right now and crawl naked across the floor, you’ll do it.”

She made the mistake of giving a nervous laugh.

That was enough to do it.

She thought he was going to leave and have security throw her out, there and then.

But instead he stepped back and loosened his tie. “All right, Miss Beckett. You’ve certainly earned this one. It’s time to pay the piper.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh, I swear. It’s like a nervous thing—“

“Take off your clothes.”

She stared at him, uncomprehendingly. “Take off my—“

“Are you hard of hearing, Miss Beckett? Take off your clothes. Immediately.”

She stood there dumbfounded.

“Why?”

“Because, I explained to you my terms and you laughed. You’ve behaved poorly throughout our time together and shown me no reason why I should take you seriously in any way. So now we’ve come down to it. Put up or shut up, Miss Beckett. I order you to take off that dress, and your bra and panties, and crawl naked across this conference room floor.”