Taming McGruff (Book 3, Once Upon A Romance Series) (11 page)

He drew her into him, her back against his front. Warmth and his scent surrounded her. She melted. “I don’t want anything, not material things, from you. I’ll sign a pre-nup. That should stop most of the rumors. I admit marrying you will help my position at King’s. It will make it easier for me to make the necessary changes without a lot of resistance from the loyal employees. But, Priscilla, I can do that on my own. It will just take longer. I’ve done it before, so don’t think I’m using you for that.”

It had crossed her mind, briefly, and then she’d shaken it off. No, Griffin James, self-made gazillionaire, wouldn’t need anyone or anything to help him advance his career any more than he could do on his own. He’d done it on his own thus far. In fact, taking over at King’s almost seemed like a downgrade.

Sighing, she turned in his arms. She leaned her head on his chest, hearing his strong, solid heartbeat. Right now,
her
heart ached. Lifting her head, she gazed into his eyes. “I don’t think I can marry you or anyone else.”

***

Dazed, Griffin threw himself into his job. He forced himself to run on autopilot, relying on his days of just surviving. The store benefited from his razor-sharp focus and the extra attention. He’d tweaked the website, drawing in more immediate online sales. On the floor, he’d initiated a challenge among the employees. King’s needed their help, their expertise. Suggestions poured in. Griff assigned and delegated duties and hand-picked mentors to groom the new leaders among them.

He’d set the wheels in motion to launch not only a continuing line for the Charmings brand, but for King’s as well. It was about time they developed and created their own products to sell. The public clamored for anything related to the King daughters. And the spin the store had taken on with the recent marriages of the two oldest generated a refreshing sizzle in town and among the industry.

The store buzzed with excitement. The air crackled with electricity. A new day had begun.

He’d plotted to ruin King’s for years; now he doubted he could carry through with that quest when so many people would be harmed.

Was it even in him to try to fail? he wondered, too numb to care about the answer at the moment.

Griff may have shifted his outlook on the store itself and empathized with the employees’ fate. However, he continued to sharpen and fine-tune his revenge against the woman who stole his childhood and robbed him of his father. She would pay, somehow and in some way. Agnes King would not get away with what she’d done to him and his family.

Through it all, despite all he’d done to eradicate it, one thought persisted.

Priscilla had turned him down. That hurt more than he realized. It derailed his latest plan, but it was the invisible wound to his heart that cut the deepest. God, he was falling for her. Correction, he already fell. Hard.

How the hell did that happen?

Now, he cursed under his breath.

“Holy moly, the paint’s peeling off the walls at that one,” Peg said, scooping up a file from the corner of his desk.

Griff pulled up short. “Sorry, Peg,” he muttered.

“Nothing I haven’t said or heard before, Boss.” She scooted out of his office. “I’ll just leave you to,” she waved her hand and wrinkled her nose, “whatever you want. Throw something maybe?”

Propping his elbows on his desk, he dropped his head into his hands. The pounding in his temples persisted.

The door clicked open. “Forgot. Meeting in ten.” She closed it again.

Silence reverberated. His mind swirled with thoughts; memories of his father and the day Griff was taken away to foster care drummed over and over again. But his heart tore wide open.
No one stays
.

That sexy little pixie had crawled in and around his defenses and stole her way into his heart.

He blew out a hot breath.

It had been days since her refusal. She dodged him at work, staying holed up in the salon as the packing continued around the regular appointments. After King’s closed Saturday night, the construction crew would return, work all through the night, all day Sunday, and finish up by Monday in time to open again. It was a grueling schedule, but one that had to be adhered to in order to cause the least disruption to the salon and the store.

Avoiding her had taken its own costly toll. He couldn’t afford to lose anymore. Failure was not an option.

Griffin shoved away from his desk, stood, and then marched to the door and flung it open. On the way by her desk, he said, “Peg, cancel the meeting.”

“You got it.”

A few minutes later, he arrived at the salon. The young girl at the desk gulped when she spotted him. “Mr. James. I didn’t know you were coming.” She ditched her bag of chips and then brushed the crumbs off her skirt. “Ah, we’re short-handed, you know. I was just finishing my lunch.”

He didn’t have time for explanations. “Is Priscilla King here?” Gazing around at the curtained-off area, he noticed preparations for the remodel already in progress.

“She’s right behind you.”

Griffin turned around to see Priscilla, accompanied by Rico, enter the salon. Their heads were together and they were laughing at something. A jolt went through him when her green-eyed gaze landed on him.

“Ah…ah,” she stuttered. “Mr. James.”

“If it isn’t Griff,” Rico said, coming up and tapping him on the arm. “My, you look spiffy today. I like the black suit with the dove gray shirt and tie. Don’t you, Prissy?”

She remained silent. Her friend jabbed her with an elbow.

“You have questions I need to answer?” Griff asked.

“I’m busy.”

“No, we’re good,” the girl behind the desk volunteered. “The phones aren’t ringing and my next appointment’s at two, so I can still cover the desk for you until you’re done.”

“I’ll help,” Rico offered, going around the desk and touching her hair. “Love your color. But, we gotta do something with that style.”

“Really? I thought this worked.”

“Doesn’t quite go with your face shape. You see, you’re an oval, but that length is dragging you down, girl.”

Griffin tuned them out and focused on Priscilla. “Shall we?”

“Where?”

“Your office.”

She looked stricken. Instead of replying, she led the way to the back of the salon. His middle tightened at the gentle sway of her hips. In black leggings, the black suede boots she wore the first night they met, and a long, purple silk blouse, she really did look like a pixie. She entered the tidy little space off the supply room.

Stepping inside, it felt more like a coat closet.

“There’s no door,” she said needlessly, and then offered him the lone visitor’s chair beside the desk.

Griff sat down, crammed between the end of the desk and the wall. He eased back as much as he could, and then rested his right ankle on his left knee while leaning back with his right elbow on her small, but neat desk. “Nice place,” he drawled.

“Funny,” she retorted, dropping down into her chair.

“Please tell me that as part of the remodel you get a bigger office.”

“Technically, it won’t be mine. I’m the temp manager by default. Rico’s in the wedding boutique now and no one else here wanted the position. We’re in the process of hiring a new salon manager. And I’m supposed to redo a house. Unless, of course, you’ve come to tell me the remodel for your house is shut down.”

He eyed her closely, noting the light purple smudges under her eyes. She hadn’t been sleeping either. That should give him some comfort. It didn’t. “That’s to be determined.” He checked his watch. “I intended to meet with Charlie and Marcus, about five minutes ago, to discuss it. I canceled.”

She swallowed hard. Leaning toward him, she asked, “What will it take to convince you to go through with this?”

“You know the answer to that already.”

“Really?” she asked, searching his stare.

“All or nothing, Pixie.”

At the use of her nickname, she closed her eyes and groaned. Opening them again, she shook her head, avoiding his gaze.

“Let me see your cell phone.”

Her frown said it all. “Why?”

“Humor me.”

She fished it out of her pink tote bag sitting on the metal file cabinet behind her. Handing it to him, she didn’t let go. “I don’t see what this has to do with anything.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay, I’m humoring.” She sighed in defeat and released the phone.

Griffin searched for the message screen. He found at least twenty there. Highlighting her mother’s number, he pointed it at Priscilla so she could see. “I can fix this.”

“Drat,” she cursed. “She won’t stop calling me.”

“How many are for dates?” He held his breath, placing the phone on a nearby stack of files.

Shrugging, she said, “I haven’t listened to those. But, the others I did listen to did mention Dr. Neal. He’s getting impatient.”

“Funny.” At her blank stare, he said, “Doctor – impatient?”

She giggled at that.

Warmth spread through his chest at the sound.

Leaning her elbows on the desk and holding her chin in her hands, she faced him. “I want my freedom.”

“Did I say you couldn’t have it?”

Confusion chased over her features. “Single, free. Married, not free. That’s what I always thought.”

“No other men,” he said so firmly he felt the words vibrate in the air between them.

“I don’t want any other man,” she admitted, her eyes holding desire.

It kicked him in the gut. “I like the sound of that.”

“I thought you would,” she teased, smiling. “I didn’t realize how much I really wanted you until I couldn’t have you anymore.”

Flames rushed through his blood. “Jesus, Pixie, you pick a fine time to tell me.”

Her grin lingered. “I tingle in places I’ve never tingled before.”

He swore. “You are torturing me, you know.”

A look of consternation flashed in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to. I just don’t want to be controlled, ever again.”

That shook him. Leaning forward, so only a few inches were between them, he held her gaze. “I don’t want to control you.”
Just protect you
. “Give me three months.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “Like a probationary period? Like here at King’s for new employees?”

“Yes. It will allow you time to breathe even more than you say you have in the last five months or so,” he nodded toward her phone, “from your mother. In the future, from the press if you decorate my home; from, hopefully, any employee jealousy at you getting the job over them, a more experienced employee.” He watched that sink in. “And it will give you the freedom to prove you deserve the King name.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Is there anything else I can have?”

“Name it.”

“Can I make love to you anytime, anywhere?”

With her secret tucked away for over a day, Priscilla hummed as she loaded up the to-go boxes for the overnight construction crew at King’s.

“Happy, aren’t you?” Marcus asked at the stove of his new pub and grill. “You can’t stop smiling about something. The remodel?”

“You should see it. It’s only the first night and what a difference already. I wish they would have let me demo the wall.” She shrugged. “But, Griffin wouldn’t let me or anyone else but a trained professional do the deed.”

“Charlie made a really solid choice with him, don’t you think?” He brought her some more filled containers and she added them to the cardboard boxes.

“Lots of experience.” Her mind scattered to a certain kind of experience and she felt the warmth crawl up her neck. Thank goodness Rico had talked her into taking precautions for birth control weeks ago. He’d predicted it would eventually happen and she should be prepared even if it took months or longer to find that special someone. To Marcus, she clarified, “You know, retail giant.”

“He’s the future of King’s, that’s for sure. His mind works like a computer. Amazing the way he just absorbs everything around him.” He waited a heartbeat. “Not the best people person, but with Peg by his side, I have faith he’ll succeed.”

Silently, she agreed with his assessment on Griff’s people skills.

“Be careful.” His warning brought her up short.

“I know, these are hot,” she said, hoping to avoid any further discussion on Griff.

“Hey, Prissy, it’s me, your brother-in-law and former boss. I see it between you two. It was there at Charlie’s house. The way he looked at you. And you looked at him.”

She gulped hard. “Doesn’t take a genius, does it?”

“I’ve been there. So maybe I’m more aware than some people. But they’ll catch on.”

Biting her lip, she could only nod. She’d promised Griff their wedding, set for next Friday night, would remain undercover. Deep inside, she knew it was for the best; her mother would never be able to put up any obstacles to stop them beforehand.

“Come on, help me load these up.”

In the mindless carrying of boxes to his SUV waiting outside the back door and back again for more, Priscilla’s thoughts wandered. In less than one week, she’d met Griffin James, come to know him in a way she doubted he revealed to anyone before, went from crushing on him to falling for him, and agreed to become his wife.

Her middle tumbled. She, who swore off marriage the moment she bolted from her mother’s oppressive reign, now less than five months later, would walk down the aisle in just days.

Something in her sensed, with an unshakable certainty, it was the right thing to do. After mulling it over days ago when he first asked, she couldn’t get the concept out of her head. Then, when he’d proposed it again just yesterday, it clicked into place.

This man would allow her to explore and dive into adventures; he’d showed her several already, willingly participating in her quest. Yet, in a strange way, he sheltered her without smothering her all at the same time.

She felt safe with him. She could trust him.

All that and she’d put her mark on King’s, helping in reviving the once legendary store and bringing it to new heights. Somewhere up above, she hoped to make her late stepfather proud he’d adopted her and given her his name.