The Proviso (69 page)

“I asked you where you wanted me to fuck you. Here
or at my house?”

She squeaked.

“Yes, Miss McKinley, you heard me right. Pick a
place, any place. I’m yours.”

“No!” Justice cried and closed her eyes against her
rising horror. Her fists clenched at her sides until she felt calm
enough to look at him, she opened her eyes slowly to find his face
carved in mocking amusement.

“Miss McKinley—hello. I’m still waiting for an
answer.”

“No,” Justice said again, as forcefully as she could
manage.

Knox pursed his lips and looked at her in
speculation. It was a lion’s look, right before he tore into his
prey’s throat. Justice felt a trickle of anger of a type she didn’t
recognize. “That’s sexual harassment.”

She jumped at his bark of laughter, then scowled as
it turned into a rolling guffaw. It took him a while for his
amusement to subside, and he wiped his eyes and chuckled every once
in a while. “Sexual harassment,” he crowed. “That’s hilarious.
Sweetheart—” he said, then paused to chuckle. “I’ve been
investigated for every felony in the book—
six times
. Do you
think anybody’s going to pay attention to a little sexual
harassment? Sexual harassment doesn’t exist here. I give the
orders. You take ’em. That’s it. End of story.
Fini
. If that
means I point at that couch and tell you to lay down, that’s what’s
gonna happen. If I tell you to go make coffee, you do that, too. If
I tell you to make coffee
bare-ass naked
, that’s what I
expect to see. You understand that?”

He’d offended her deepest philosophies, and for
that, she’d face any fire. She drew herself up with a dignity and
courage she didn’t know she possessed. “I quit.”

His amusement fled. “No one quits this office before
they’re trained, Miss McKinley,” he said low. “I will not have my
name on someone’s CV who hasn’t earned that right. If you have to
stay here ten years before I think you deserve my name, then that’s
what’s going to happen. And I
will
come looking for you just
like I did that first day you were late—and I
will
find
you.”

She didn’t doubt it.

“Now, you have two choices: You can be a good little
attorney and do your work the best you know how, or you can be a
bad little attorney and take all the harassment you can
handle—sexual or otherwise. You’re here to stay and to do what I
say. Get used to it.”

Justice’s mind raced. There had to be a way out of
this. There had to be. Who could she contact? What agencies would
care enough to bust a small-time prosecutor in a small-time
county?

“And oh, if you’re thinking about trying to set the
feds on me yet
again
, good luck with that. They keep looking
and they keep not finding.”

“You’re just a two-bit bully,” Justice whispered,
afraid of Knox Hilliard as she’d never been afraid of anything in
her life, yet thoroughly angry with him.

His face stretched into a calculating smile that
chilled Justice to the core. “No, Justice,” he murmured, “I’m worth
much more than that. Perhaps, six bits. Shall we discuss where and
when again?”

“No,” Justice said, her nostrils flaring. “I can’t
imagine any woman going to you willing, without being
paid
.”

He catapulted out of his chair and around his desk,
and Justice, feeling very stalked, whirled to open the door, to get
away from him. With a powerful hand, he shoved it closed so hard
she thought the wood would crack. And she was trapped—trapped
between the solid door and the large, hard body of the Chouteau
County prosecutor, whom she’d just called a thug.

She pressed closer to the door in an effort to get
away from him, but he pressed closer still. The warmth of his flesh
seeped into her, made her super aware of him, and her breath came
harder and faster.

“What do you think now, Justice?” he whispered warm
in her ear, his sweet, rich butterscotch breath tickling her cheek.
Her body, palms, and other cheek pressed flat against the door, and
she could feel his arousal against her backside.

She swallowed when she allowed herself to
acknowledge its presence against her and what it meant. What it
meant to
her
.

His large hands caressed the curve of her hips as
his lips caught at her earlobe. Justice gasped at the contact, not
because she didn’t expect it, but because she didn’t expect it to
be so . . .
gentle
.

And she certainly didn’t expect the sharp pang that
shot through her body and settled between her legs, in a place that
suddenly seemed empty and wanting for— She closed her eyes,
horrified that she wanted what Knox had and that Knox was perfectly
willing to give it to her.

“What was that you said about having to pay for
it?”

His voice was liquid warmth, hot spiced cider,
melted chocolate. His mouth closed softly over the skin of her
cheek here and there, butterfly kisses. Justice’s eyelids drooped
and she felt a soft sigh pass over her own lips. She was vaguely
appalled at her own reaction, but could no more stop it than she
could make Knox leave her alone.

Even if she wanted to.

Her buttocks tensed when Knox’s fingers spread out
over her hips and his thumbs caressed her chintz-covered skin even
as his mouth moved to her neck and throat. Her hands, flat against
the wood, curled inward as Knox’s masculine scent wrapped itself
around her, beguiling her senses, making her want more.

How could a man so utterly despicable make her body
feel so many wonderful things?

Things she’d really never believed happened to a
woman with this intensity.

Things she’d wanted from him for three years.

It wasn’t until Knox’s fingers began to gather up
the front panels of her skirt, and his palm touched the inside of
her nylon-covered thigh that Justice was shocked enough to realize
how . . .

Lush

Verdant

Exquisite

. . . he made her feel.

“Leave me alone.”

“Not an option,” Knox murmured into her ear as he
continued to nuzzle her there. “You’ve made it very clear that this
is what you want and I
will
give it to you. Don’t doubt that
for one minute.”

It was when he kissed and sucked the underside of
her jaw that Justice realized he was absolutely right, and that
yes, she would go willingly.

“No, please, don’t,” she finally whispered. “Let me
go. Please. I don’t want this.”

He stopped, pulled away from her slowly. She glanced
at him over her shoulder. He didn’t smile. His sapphire eyes
gleamed. He breathed heavily. She flinched when he reached a hand
out to caress her cheek, a feather-light touch. “You’re a hot
mess,” he murmured. “Go sit on the couch a minute.”

He wheeled away from her then and went to a small
fridge she hadn’t seen. He took out a small bottle of water and
tossed it to her. “Your face is red.”

Of course it was red. She was embarrassed and
aroused. Embarrassed about being aroused. She looked down and away
from him, then stepped toward the couch, where she sat on the edge
of it, primly and properly smoothing her dress under her, keeping
her knees perfectly together and aligned, the hem dropping a
respectable two inches below them.

She looked down at her hands. Opened the bottle.
Took a couple of small sips. Pressed the bottle against her
face.

Knox leaned back against his desk, his ankles
crossed, his arms over his chest. He just watched her.

“You can’t keep me here.”

He reached behind his body under his suit coat, then
withdrew his hand and placed his shiny silver semi-automatic pistol
on top of his desk very deliberately, never taking his eyes off of
her.

“Can’t I.”

Justice felt like her chest had collapsed,
completely unable to comprehend the enormity of what he’d said with
that one simple gesture.

“But I’m not going to have to work very hard to give
you what
you
want, am I?”

She closed her eyes in deep, deep shame.

“Stand up and straighten out your clothes, then get
back to work.”

* * * * *

61:
ELTON LIVE

The futures trading for the initial public offering
of HR Prerogatives was out of control. Eilis stood at the podium
with Sebastian at the New York Stock Exchange, feeling him watching
her. Eilis was nervous as she readied herself to strike the opening
bell.

Jack Blackwood, CEO of one of the most powerful
investment banks on Wall Street, and Melinda Newman, the CFO of
Blackwood Securities, stood with her. Blackwood Securities had
underwritten HRP’s IPO on the strength of Sebastian’s work and
word. Once Eilis rang that bell, Sebastian would no longer be her
trustee because Knox would consider that the end of the
receivership. All it would need then would be for him and the judge
to sign it off.

It would be done. She would be free of what David
had done to her, free of a court order, free of her babysitter. Not
free of her shame, and she could barely stand to look at Sebastian
because of it.

The sweet ring of the bell that morning signaled the
end of her road with David. And Sebastian. Confetti flew, the
roaring began, the boards went crazy, and her symbol, HRPS, was the
first across. She looked down at the trading floor and back up to
the ticker, joy and delight swelling her soul to bursting, but
tempered with melancholy.

Sebastian had given her this.

And then he would leave for good, not even a weekly
impersonal email copied to Knox.

She looked up at him to see him still watching her,
the corner of his mouth quirked.

“Congratulations, Eilis,” Sebastian said and held
his hand out for her to shake. She did, hesitantly. It was the
first time he’d touched her since February, when he’d held her in
the saleroom at Christie’s. “Your bills are paid. With the sale of
Morning in Bed
—very wise decision—you have significant cash
reserves. You have a good staff. Your receivership is over, and it
took just under a year.”

Then it was Jack’s turn, who hugged her. Melinda she
hugged too, but tight, like a sister, and she sniffled back
bittersweet tears. It was Melinda who’d shepherded the process,
thus had been with Eilis every step of the way. The chairman of the
NYSE and all the rest of whoever she’d been introduced to but
didn’t remember all gathered for handshakes.

Eventually they wound their way outside to Wall
Street on their way to Jack’s office, chatting a bit before Eilis
and Sebastian went to their hotel and Jack and Melinda went back to
work. After that, the rest of the day could only be
anticlimactic.

Once they reached the marbled lobby of Blackwood
Securities, one of Jack’s assistants accosted him and drew him
aside to speak frantically. “Sebastian,” Jack said low once he
returned to them, “not to horn in on Eilis’s day or anything, but
Fen’s in town.”

Eilis looked at her watch. “And running late,” she
muttered, then realized she’d spoken too loudly when both Sebastian
and Jack turned to look at her. Melinda stared at her with one
eyebrow raised.

Finally, Sebastian said, “Out with it, Eilis. You’ve
been hiding something from me about OKH and Fen from the minute I
proposed this IPO.”

She took a deep breath, then reluctantly opened her
mouth to explain—

A deep male voice boomed, “Sebastian!” The sound
echoed off the marbled walls of the cavernous space.

Eilis knew that voice, had anticipated it because he
would want to take this golden opportunity to do what he’d spent
years trying to do—and failing at every turn.

She watched Fen Hilliard stride toward them, elegant
and grand as always. Eilis stared at him and he stared at her.
“Sebastian,” Fen said again without looking at him, cordial, always
cordial, yet his voice contained an underlying note of hatred with
which he had
never
spoken to Eilis. “Jack. Ms. Newman.”

Neither Jack nor Melinda said a word.

“Fenimore,” said Sebastian, who had not missed that
he wasn’t today’s target.

“Eilis, congratulations on your IPO,” Fen said
expansively, offering his hand to her, which she refused.

“Fen,” she murmured, feeling her Inner Bitch begin
to creep over her, to cover her, to protect her, “you’re late. I
expected you five minutes ago.”

Sebastian started, but Fen laughed. “Of
course
you did, my girl, of course you did.”

“So how much did you buy?”

“Nine percent.”

“And you flew all the way to New York to do it
personally,” she said, calm now that her beloved Bitch had
returned. “I’m flattered.”

“I had to thank you for so graciously handing
yourself over.”

“Fen,” Sebastian said, “shouldn’t you worry about
your own stock instead of hers? It’s a little late to be playing
raider—and on a company as small as hers? That makes no sense.”

He turned to Sebastian then. “Why, Sebastian, my
dear nephew, of course it makes sense. It isn’t my problem you
obviously don’t know
why
it makes sense. Right? Eilis?”

Rage.

Rage she had known long ago and thought she’d put
away. Rage that strengthened her, empowered her. It burst through
Eilis’s soul and she allowed herself to ride the wave.

“I’m glad you’re here, Fen. It gives me the
satisfaction of knowing you couldn’t get to me unless I gave you a
way to do it. God knows, you’ve been spinning your wheels for the
last twenty years. But you knew I’d be here with Sebastian, so all
things considered, I’d think you’d want to keep this private.”

“It’s as private as it needs to be, Miss
Logan
,” he said, smug. “Your house of cards is safe with
me.”

“You built that house, Fen. You and that evil cunt
you sleep with.”