The Alpha Billionaire Club Trilogy (46 page)

“
W
hat are you doing here
?" Axel was asking as I walked into the room and did a double take. An Axel clone was standing on the other side of his desk, dressed almost identically—if you exchanged the gray pants and eggplant shirt for black pants and steel gray shirt, and the dark brown eyes for ice blue. Otherwise, they had the same short, dark hair, the same lean but powerful build, were the exact same height, and had identical chiseled cheekbones. They were like carbon copies.

This must be another Sinclair. The Axel clone turned in my direction and gave me a slow, thorough perusal from the top of my head to my sneakered feet, wincing as he took in my black eye. I squared my shoulders and crossed the room, my hand out.

"I'm Emma Wright,” I said. “And you are?"

He grinned at me, a dizzying replica of Axel’s grin, and took my hand in his, giving it a firm yet lingering shake. I returned his grin when Axel glared down at our clasped hands. The Axel clone said,

"Evers Sinclair. It is very, very nice to meet you, Emma Wright. Griffen has all sorts of complementary things to say about you. What he says about my brother is less approving."

"Why are you here?" Axel asked again. Why
was
he here? I thought Griffen had said Axel's brothers worked out of Atlanta. Evers released my hand and said to his brother,

“Aren't you going to offer me coffee?"

“No.” Axel set his jaw, a mulish expression on his face.

This was a new side of Axel. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was a ten-year-old boy for all the sullen irritation in his tone. I put the bags I was still holding down on the couch and went back to retrieve my half-empty coffee cup from the bathroom.

As I came back into the room, I saw that the brothers seemed to be locked in a staring contest. Shaking my head, I said, "I'd love some more coffee. Mine is cold.”

Axel scowled at me. Then, he hit a button on the phone and asked Billy to send in more coffee and maybe some food. I sat back down in the armchair I’d used before. Evers took the one beside me, forcing Axel to choose the chair behind his desk. For the first time since I’d met him, he seemed to be at a loss for words.

Evers had a twinkle in his eye that assured me he knew exactly how much he was annoying his brother, and nothing could have made him happier. Except maybe to annoy Axel even more. Turning to me, Evers said, "Griffen called last night after he got back from your adventure. He filled me in on what he knew, and I thought I should fuel up the plane and come see what my little brother was up to."

"I've got this under control, Evers. Emma and I were just going to go over the specifics of her case and figure out what we need to do to keep her safe. We don't need your help."

"Oh, I'm not here because I think you need help with the case, Axel. You should know better than that." Turning to me he said, "I love to bug the shit out of Axel, out of all my brothers, but you’re safe in his hands. I can promise you that."

"That's what Griffen told me," I said. Evers nodded in agreement, deliberately ignoring Axel's growing irritation.

“Griffen is a good man,” he said. “We were in the Rangers together.” I nodded, sensing that Evers was telling me this only so he could continue to push Axel out of the conversation. I hated to say it, but I was almost starting to feel sorry for Axel. I had two older brothers and a younger sister. I knew precisely how maddening siblings could be. I risked a glance at Axel and saw that his jaw muscles were clenched so tightly they’d turned his cheeks white.

“If you’re not here to help with the case, what are you doing here?" Axel asked for the third time.

"Because," Evers said with a grin, "Griffen said he’d never seen you so tied up in knots over a woman. Since I've never seen you in knots over
any
woman,
ever
, I had to come out to catch the show."

Axel had no response. He sat frozen behind his desk, his teeth gritted, as if deciding whether to explode. I wondered if I’d have to break up a fight, or if it was smarter to run for the door and wait until the mayhem was over.

Then, surprising me, Axel tipped his head back and let out a bark of laughter.

“Fine,” he said, grim amusement in his dark eyes. “You want to give me a hard time over Emma? Have at it. She’s found herself in the middle of a shit storm, and since she's mine, it's all hands on deck until we get her out of it. If you're between jobs, then you can jump on board."

The door opened, and Billy entered with a brushed steel carafe in one hand and a tray of pastries, muffins, and what looked like blueberry scones in the other. Without a word, he set them both on Axel's desk and left, closing the door behind him. While I poured myself a new cup of coffee, refilled Axel’s, and got Evers a cup, Axel explained my situation to his brother. I didn't enjoy listening to a replay of everything that had happened, and I was glad Axel kept it short.

When he got to the part about handing me over to Harper, I saw Evers’s jaw tighten, though he didn't say a word. He just looked at the bruises on my face, then glared at Axel. Axel finished the story, and I waited to hear what Evers would say. His response surprised me.

"This doesn't make any sense," Evers said, shaking his head. "I can see why you took the job. From that perspective, Harper’s story holds up. But now that we know what's really going on, I don't get it."

"I know," Axel said. "Once I realized Emma was innocent, the whole thing started to fall apart."

“I don't understand,” I said, putting my coffee down on Axel's desk. “What you mean it falls apart?”

"I mean," Axel said, "if you’re guilty and Harper needed the evidence to fire you, then his hiring me makes complete sense. But if you're informing for the FBI, and Harper wants to stop you, then why hire me to gather evidence? Why bring me into this at all? He would've been better off just having Tsepov take you out. If he thought you knew too much, a random carjacking or a mugging would've solved the problem. It happens to FBI informants all the time."

The casual way Axel spoke of them killing me to solve their problem was chilling. And he was right. The easiest way for them to deal with me, once they knew I was giving evidence to the FBI, would have been to kill me. Then why had they hired Axel?

"You say William Harper is working with the Russian mob? With Sergey Tsepov?” Evers asked. Axel nodded. "It doesn't sound like Harper is smart enough to handle that."

“He’s not," Axel agreed. "My guess is that he wanted me to get the data back from Emma before she could pass it to the FBI. He could have had Tsepov take care of her, but then he would have had to admit to Tsepov that he’d fucked up by letting her inform on him in the first place."

"Sergey Tsepov does not have a forgiving reputation," Evers said.

“Tsepov already knows about me," I said, interrupting. “Harper called him to come pick me up last night.” Axel’s eyes darkened at the reminder.

“This is just a guess," Axel said. "But I have a feeling that’s a very recent development. If Tsepov had known about you this whole time, there’s no way he would have let you go around collecting evidence against them. There's something else that we’re missing." He picked up his telephone and hit a few buttons. “Send me the audio from last night; everything that happened while Emma was in Harper’s house."

I didn't want to listen to a replay of the night before. I tried to think of an excuse to leave the room, then told myself to stop being such a wimp and woman up. Yes, the situation was scary. And yes, the night before with Harper had been awful. But I was safe, and Axel wasn't going to let anything happen to me. Listening to the conversation I'd had with Harper couldn't hurt me.

A minute later, Axel clicked on his laptop and William Harper's voice filled the room. I nibbled on a blueberry scone while we listened, reminding myself that I was safe and out of William Harper's hands. Axel's jaw was tight as he heard Harper threaten me. Evers narrowed his blue eyes and focused completely on the conversation, seeming to absorb every nuance of Harper’s words.

When the recording ended, he sat back and said, “He really is a fucking moron. Granted, he had no reason to think he was being taped, but he just admitted to all of it. And now that Emma got away, she's more of a liability than she was when she was just gathering evidence."

"I know," Axel agreed. "I'm surprised Tsepov went into business with this guy. He’s usually sharper than that. If we had that laptop, we could bring it to the FBI and put an end to all of this. Emma's evidence combined with the confession should be enough."

“You didn’t have a warrant for the recording,” Evers said, “or we could use that. But the FBI might be able to scare him with it, even if it wouldn’t hold up in court. Too bad we lost the laptop.” Evers gave Axel a pointed look, clearly blaming him for the loss of the evidence.

My mind raced. So far, I'd kept Summer out of this. But Axel and Evers had to know the evidence wasn't lost. I wasn't doing myself or the case any favors by keeping my mouth shut at this point. Desperately hoping I was doing the right thing, I said, "William Harper has my laptop, but he doesn't have all of the evidence." Axel's eyes snapped to me.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I've been sending copies of everything I found to a friend of mine. She doesn't know what it is, only knows that I asked her to hold it for me.” Two sets of eyes pinned me to my chair. I tried to explain. “It just felt weird gathering all this information and then handing it over. What if Agent Tierney had lost it? Now I’m glad I was so paranoid.”

“Who is this friend?" Axel asked, leaning forward. "Where is she? How soon can we get the evidence from her?"

“Summer lives in Marietta, but she travels a lot for work," I said. “I have to call her and see if she's in town. I mailed her a package yesterday, so it won't be there for a few days."

Axel slid his phone across his desk toward me. Summer’s was one of the few phone numbers I knew by heart, and I dialed. She picked up on the third ring. “Hey, babe, what's up?"

"Nothing," I lied. We hadn't talked about any of this over the phone yet, and I had no plans to start now. "Just taking a few days off work, and I thought I might fly out there and visit. Are you around?"

"Not until the end of the week. Can you wait? How much time do you have off work? I'd love to see you! I'm in Houston for a conference and I won't be back until late Friday night. Can you come for a long weekend? I can take Monday off.”

"I've got a few days coming," I said. I hated lying to Summer. I wanted to tell her everything, listen to her sympathize over Axel’s betrayal, and get her sage advice on what I should do with him. But I couldn’t put her in any more danger than I already had. It was beyond paranoid to think anyone was listening to her phone, but nothing about this situation was normal. Being paranoid felt smart, not crazy. “I’ll be there this weekend,” I said. I’d have to wait until then for Summer to help me figure out my life. “Have fun at the conference. I’ll call you Friday."

“Sweet! I'll see you in a couple of days. Love you, babe."

"Love you too, Summer." I hung up the phone, suddenly missing my best friend so badly tears sprang into my eyes. Just hearing her cheerful voice had felt like getting one of her trademark tight hugs. I had no idea how all this was going to work out, but if I could see Summer anytime soon, I knew I'd feel a million times better.

“So we're in a holding pattern until your friend gets home," Evers said, sitting back and propping his ankle on his knee.

“Looks like it," Axel said. "I have some guys doing some digging into Harper and Tsepov, but our number one priority, for now, is to keep Emma safe."

"Agreed," Evers said.

“Then we're just going to wait around until Summer gets home?" I asked, not sure I liked the sound of that. "If I can't go home, how does this work?"

Axel stood up from behind his desk. "That’s easy. You'll stay with me." Looking at Evers, he said, "Billy can hook you up with one of the apartments upstairs. I'm going to take Emma to my place.”

I
really
didn’t like the sound of that. Axel and me, alone in his place, was the opposite of what I wanted. I thought again about calling Agent Tierney. Then I thought about FBI informants getting killed. Staying alive was more important than avoiding Axel. All I had to do was say
no
, right? How hard could that be?

A
fter gathering
my shopping bags from the couch and saying a quick goodbye to Evers, Axel led me back to the elevator and ushered me inside. The elevator was pretty big, but between the two of us and all my Neiman Marcus bags, we filled it easily. I expected him to press the button at the bottom of the panel for the garage, but instead, he pressed the one at the top. The elevator car slid smoothly upward. I asked, “Where are we going?"

“My place," Axel said.

"You live here?" I asked. "I thought this was an office building."

“It is. It's my building. Sinclair Security owns all of it, and we use it all. It's not a requirement that staff live on-site, but a lot of them choose to. It's extremely secure. I think you’ll like my place."

If it was anything like his lake house, I knew I would. A moment later, the door slid open, and I saw that Axel's place was nothing like his lake house, except maybe in size. If I had to guess, I'd say the penthouse covered the entire floor of the building. Stepping out of the elevator, I faced a long, sleek table beneath an enormous painting that looked like a Jackson Pollack. Maybe it was.

The wall was open on either side to the room beyond, giving me glimpses of a modern space with sharp angles, clean surfaces, and white everywhere, except where it was broken up by splashes of bright color, much like the painting in front of us. Axel tossed his car keys on the table and led me out of the entry into the main living space of the penthouse. The huge room spread out before me, everything immaculate and beautifully designed.

It was so different from the lake house that I had to ask, “Did you decorate here, or did you tell someone what you wanted and she put it together?"

Axel laughed. "No, I had nothing to do with the way this place turned out. I learned my lesson, and for the lake house, I actually had a conversation with the decorator. But here I used the same person who designed the offices. She must have thought, based on what I wanted for the business, that I liked the modern look, because this is what I ended up with. I'm usually so busy with work that I haven't gotten around to warming the place up."

“It is a little cold," I said, trying to be diplomatic. "It’s beautiful, though." It was. The penthouse wasn't my style. I was far more drawn to the warmth of the house at Lake Mead, but there was no denying that the austere, modern lines of the penthouse were both dramatic and gorgeous.

"Follow me. I'll show you where you can put your things."

Axel led me past the kitchen—more brushed steel here, with gray marble and black lacquered cabinets—and through the living room with its low-slung, angular couches and a lot of steel with glass, and down a long, white hallway that ended in what could only be Axel's bedroom.

"I'm not staying in here," I said. Axel ignored me and I followed him, prepared to argue further. His bedroom looked much like the rest of the penthouse: high ceilings, open space, and modern art.

The bed, however, did not fit the rest of the penthouse. It wasn't modern at all. It was huge, made of black leather and dark wood, the design a better fit for the rustic look of the lake house. The enormous, king-sized frame was dominated by a plush, tall, black leather headboard, accented by leather straps and buckles that would have looked at home on a saddle. A matching wood and leather trunk sat at the foot of the bed.

I wondered what Axel would keep in a trunk at the foot of his bed. If he were anyone else, I would have assumed spare blankets and maybe an extra pillow. I didn't think that's what Axel kept in his trunk. I told myself I didn't want to find out. I was lying.

I was so distracted by the sight of the bedroom that I didn't realize that Axel had disappeared. I called his name, and he stepped out through a doorway on the opposite side of the room.

"You can keep your things in here," he said. I remembered my earlier objections.

"I'm not staying in your bedroom. And I'm not putting my things in your closet."

Axel crossed his arms over his chest. "Emma, I know you're angry with me. We need to talk about that."

I dropped the Neiman’s bags on the floor and crossed my arms over my chest, mimicking his posture. "You can't just apologize, expect me to forgive you, and then move me into your bedroom. It's not that easy."

"I know that, Emma,” he said, his tone giving me the impression his patience was wearing thin. Tough luck. “You don't have to sleep in here with me if you don't want to. But your clothes are going in my closet."

“Are you telling me you don't have a guest room in this entire place?" He had to have a guest room. The penthouse looked like it was huge.

"I do,” he admitted, “but the closet isn't very big. Mine is much better."

Arguing with Axel was pointless. I didn't have that many clothes, and there was no good reason a guest room closet wouldn't work. He was just being stubborn. I decided to take a different tack and bring up something else that had been bugging me all day.

"You didn't use any protection this morning. After everything that's happened, and the fact that you knew I didn't want you in my bed in the first place, I can't believe you didn't use protection."

Axel narrowed his eyes at me and said, “You’re on birth control." I was, but that wasn't the point. Reading my mind, Axel went on, “And I know you're clean. So am I.”

"How do
I
know you’re clean?" I asked, suddenly very tired of Axel making decisions for me. "You should have asked me first."

Axel shook his head and dropped his eyes to the floor for a long moment before meeting mine again. "You're right,” he said. “I should have. I didn't think. I have a bad habit of not thinking where you’re concerned, Emma. I'm sorry."

"Fine." I didn't know what else to say. He’d apologized, and it wouldn't happen again, because I was never going to sleep with him again. Ready to be done with the whole discussion, I said, “I’m going to take a nap." I needed one. I'd only gotten up a few hours before, but I hadn't had much sleep and I was exhausted. Axel shook his head.

"We still need to talk about the situation with Harper and Tsepov," he said. "Let me send one of my guys to get the evidence from your friend. I don't want you traveling until I know you're safe."

"No way," I said. "I don't want one of your people to scare Summer. She isn’t involved in any of this except for holding some mail for me. I don't want to worry her."

"It's too dangerous. You’re safe in here. Out there, anything can happen to you. That's an unacceptable risk."

Did that mean what it sounded like? "So I'm just going to stay here until what? Harper and Tsepov are in jail? Do you have any idea how long that could take?"

"You're going to stay here until I'm sure you're safe," Axel said.

“You’re not my keeper,” I said. Axel unfolded his arms and stalked across the room toward me, a familiar glint in his eyes. I knew that look. Intimately. As always, when he looked at me like that, it sent a dizzying combination of nerves and heat twisting through my belly. Hadn’t I just promised myself I wasn't going to sleep with him again? Why was it that he could give me one look and I melted for him?

I was so weak. Or he was that good. He
was
that good. The best I’d ever had, not that I had a ton of experience. Why should I deny myself the best sex of my life just because Axel was a jerk? I shouldn’t. I could keep my body and my heart separate. Men did it all the time. I could shove aside all my worries about trusting him, all my questions about what he felt for me and take what I wanted from him. I was tired of being a victim of circumstances. This time, I was taking control.

Straightening my spine, I lifted my arm and held my hand up, palm out, ordering him to stop where he was. Axel came to a halt a few feet away and quirked his lips like he was trying not to smile. He’d been the King of Assholes, but he was seriously hot, especially now, his eyes dark with desire and focused on me.

I said, "I told myself I wasn't going to sleep with you again. This morning doesn’t count. I still don't trust you, even if I believe you want to keep me safe. But then I realized that I’d be punishing myself. I don't have to trust you to have sex with you.”

Now Axel was grinning at me, looking both amused and triumphant. "So you're saying that you don't
like
me, but you’re going to let me protect you and give you orgasms."

"Basically, yes." The way he put it, I sounded like a bitch. I reminded myself that the night before, he’d turned me over to a man who wanted to sell me into slavery. It was less than twenty-four hours later, and I was willing to live in Axel’s home and let him tell me what to do. Just because I hadn't forgiven him—might never forgive him—it didn't make me a bitch. I wasn't willing to explain all of that, so I said, “You get to have orgasms too.”

A quick laugh escaped, and then he was on me.

I don't know how I thought I could resist Axel. The second his hands touched my skin, my body came alive, heat gathering between my legs, nipples hardening, my breath speeding up. I wasn’t sure I liked Axel. I couldn’t decide if I trusted him, but I knew I wanted him. His mouth came down on mine, and he kissed me with utter possession, pulling me to him, one arm around my back and a strong hand gripping the back of my neck.

My proud declaration that I was using him for sex was just words. Here was the truth. My body wanted him. So did my mind. Only my heart shied away, diving for cover as the rest of me gave in.