Текст книги "Mutually Exclusive"
Автор книги: Charlotte Winston
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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
“Damn, dude, calm your tits. Nobody’s trying to take her from you. I’m pointing out you’re different with her, and I’m not sure it’s for the best, given the fact you plan to bulldoze her family’s old vacation home. I bet you haven’t even told her how you feel about her father.”
“How about you let me handle my woman?”
“Your woman? Roman, tell me you aren’t developing feelings for this woman.”
“Not likely. Now, do you have something for me, or you wanna keep gossiping like a little bitch?”
“I came by because I figured you’d want to know what was going on with the Arrows’ divorce. You better be prepared; Gerald is coming after you.”
***
“I can’t believe I fell asleep again,” Alexandra chastised herself over an hour later while she quickly pulled on her clothes. She grabbed the phone in the wall and called Roman, respecting his wishes that he escort her out of the club. He ran a pretty tight ship so there was no reason for her to need him so she could leave, but he told her he took care of his own. Telling her he was sending an escort because he was busy, she opened the door to an attractive man who resembled Roman.
“Hello.” She smiled. This must be the brother who worked with Roman. Alexandra knew Marco, the head of security, who’d worked those two nights she’d come in, but had yet to be introduced to the other Valentine.
“I’m Quinn,” he told her, smiling charmingly. Damn. Quinn had the kind of smile that made a woman want to hand over her panties, ready for whatever debauchery he placed on the menu.
“Alexandra.” He nodded, making small talk while they walked toward the entrance. She liked Quinn, he was easy to talk to, even though they were just making small talk.
Marco held out his fist when she walked to the door, and she returned the fist bump. They’d started the ritual when she’d first started coming on in. “How are you doing tonight?”
“Just living the dream.”
“I bet.” He chuckled, pointing at Quinn. “Make sure you keep an eye on this one. He’s slicker than his brother.”
“Trust me, I have my hands full with one of them. I don’t need a second.”
Quinn looked affronted. “I’m standing right here. No need for you two to ply me with compliments.”
Marco jerked his finger toward her, talking to Quinn. “Don’t worry, she won’t.”
“And on that note…” She hugged Marco, waving to Quinn and hoping to get out of there. Quinn didn’t take the hint. Following her onto the sidewalk, clearly he shared more with his brother other than looks.
“I can see why my brother’s so enamored with you,” he mused.
“I could say the same for him,” she answered honestly. They parted ways, and she practically skipped to her car riding high on Quinn’s mini seal of approval.
11
“Alexandra.” Wesley stopped her while she wished the single-serve coffee maker would magically work faster, but all she got were the splashes and sounds of the old machine sputtering out her choice.
“Can I help you, Wesley?” She smiled despite her irritation at running into him.
“No.” He turned his back on her, gathering his coffee cup from the sink so he could use it next. She reminded herself she needed his approval if she wanted to make partner. Snatching her cup as soon as it finished, she grabbed a couple packets of sugar and creamer. She would doctor it in her office, away from him. She could see freedom, the hallway where Wesley would be a distant memory when he spoke. “Follow the money.”
She turned back. “Excuse me?” Wesley rarely spoke to her, let alone gave her cryptic messages while she made coffee.
“Follow the money,” he repeated. He combed through the current coffee selections as though he wasn’t babbling on like a disoriented person. “I never understood these things, why people have to doctor their coffee with these frou-frou flavors. I like mine strong and black.” He made sure she was still paying attention before continuing. “When you start adding a bunch of crap to it, the coffee tends to get weaker. I don’t let my assistants make my coffee, either. Too many hands in the pot, things can get messy fast. You understand what I’m saying?” His steel-gray eyes narrowed, trying to communicate with his own fucked-up version of a coffee analogy.
“Yeah.” She nodded, going back to her office, trying to process what he said. She sat down, writing on her notepad everything he said as best she could so she’d have it for future reference. She checked her cell phone, seeing the text from Roman about seeing her that night.
Alexandra: I’ll think about it. I have a lot of work.
Roman: And I’ll think about smacking that ass again.
Alexandra: Is that a threat? Because you’re not scaring me. I enjoyed it.
Roman: Did you think it was a threat? It was a promise. I know it leaves you soaking and wanting me. You asked me to get you laid, and I can’t if you’re avoiding me.
Alexandra: I’m not avoiding you. I do have a lot of work.
Roman: Dinner at 7 then? You gotta eat, and I thought we decided we needed to be seen.
And there we have it, she thought, knowing him well enough to tell he wasn’t going to be persuaded to do something else. She’d made an agreement, had agreed to be seen with him in case someone mentioned she spent time at the club. Nothing more, nothing less. She could work when they were done with dinner.
Sending him a confirmation text, stressing it was only dinner, she put him out of her mind as she combed through the file Karen had gathered from the prosecution with the information about Corey’s case. She went through everything, but they didn’t have much either, save for the identification. She studied the paper, where Corey’s picture was circled with the date and time of the identification. Something was off, but she couldn’t figure out what. She stared at the picture for several minutes but nothing came to her.
“Knock, knock.” Her mother peeked her head through her office door. “How’s my baby?” Alexandra hopped up to hug her; she’d forgotten they had an appointment for lunch today. They’d made it two weeks before, but with everything going on, it had slipped her mind. And didn’t that beat all? There was a time when she’d never forget her mother, but her life had started to resemble a snowball. The kind that starts off small and goes barreling down the hill, gathering more and more things as it goes until it threatens to cause actual harm. She was in its sights, with her work and everything going on with Roman, and she needed to take a break.
“She’s great.” Alexandra kissed her, smelling the faint scent of flowers, her mother’s signature scent. Whenever Alexandra was near her, she found herself barreled back into her childhood when she used to play on her mother’s vanity while her mom watched on with pride. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready.” She grabbed her purse and the coffee she had no time to drink anyway so she could throw it out. Spotting the picture of her father, she asked the question on her mind. “Hey, Mom, do you know Franklin Williams?”
Adelaide folded her arms across her chest, repositioning herself so she stood with her feet hip-width apart. “No. Why are you asking about him?” She refused to look Alexandra in the eye, studying a spot over her shoulder.
Alexandra felt a sense of unease settle in the pit of her stomach. “No reason. He told me to tell you hello, though.”
Adelaide ran her hand through her hair, relaxing her shoulders and clasping her shaking hands in front of her clutch. “Really? Well, I don’t know who he is. Unless he’s some former associate. Oh, I forgot to remind you, we need to go shopping for the banquet soon, because I can’t have you going like a hag. Your grandmother wanted to make sure I reminded you since it’s in the name of your grandfather. Besides, you never know who will be there…” She trailed off, a sly smile gracing her face. Alexandra filed away her mother’s reaction about Franklin for later. She knew him, but why did she insist on lying about it?
“What have you done?” Alexandra dug through the black hole she called her purse so she could lock up and go. She’d come back to Corey’s case this afternoon. Maybe getting away would give her some clarity.
“Nothing, dear. You know me, I’m just rambling on in my old age.” She waved her off as though she was talking nonsense.
Alexandra chuckled. “Your mind is sharp as a tack, old lady, so I’m not buying it.”
“Maybe I just want to make sure my daughter looks amazing. Could you imagine if you came there looking crazy like Hilda’s grandchildren? Piercings and tattoos everywhere! Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but if you decide to get some man’s name on your neck, I will never hear the end of it.” Alexandra shook her head; her mother had a tattoo of her own, so she had no room to talk.
“Mom, you have a tattoo, and there is nothing wrong with people with tattoos.”
“Of course not, but if you put some man’s name smack dab on the side of your neck, I’m gonna complain.”
“Okay.” Alexandra laughed. “No neck tattoos. Wait…neck tattoos?” Her eyes widened. “That’s it. I figured it out.” Alexandra ran and grabbed the Davis file, flipping pages until she came to the document she was searching for. Her mother stood there, watching her like she’d lost her mind, not that Alexandra blamed her.
“Mom, I gotta go by the jail.” Alexandra grabbed the folder, too excited to contain herself.
“What about lunch?” Her mother struggled to keep up with her.
“Lunch first, then I’ll go see a client. I gotta figure out if he’s still in jail.”
“Jail? Well, aren’t you just swimming in a stream of optimism and enthusiasm?” She huffed, probably seeing her dreams of a long lunch followed by some afternoon shopping evaporating before her very eyes.
Alexandra kissed her on the cheek, wrapping her arms around her to soften the blow. “All day, every day. And Parker and I will both go shopping with you this weekend.”
Lunch with her mother was wonderful, as usual, and the visit to the jail was both enlightening and exciting. She’d found the key to get him off. She had to have Karen do some follow-up interviews and gather more information, but Corey shouldn’t serve any more time.
***
“It’s just dinner, princess; I’m not breaking out rings.” Roman’s deep voice came across the speakerphone in her office. She’d texted him after lunch telling him she couldn’t meet him for dinner. She needed to go home; her mother lied about knowing Franklin and she wanted to know why. The envelope sat in her home office, waiting for her.
“Uh…I can’t tonight.”
“Can’t, or won’t? Because if you don’t want to try this, tell me now. But don’t get upset if someone questions us together.”
“I know.” She sighed. “But I have to work, so I would love to, but I can’t. I’m not getting out of it, there is a legitimate reason.”
“Don’t work too hard,” he said, not waiting for her goodbye before he hung up.
“I won’t, asshole, but you didn’t wait to hear me,” she muttered, her mind shifting back to the case. She would finish up then head out.
“We got this,” she told the photograph of her parents she’d put on her desk years before. It was a reminder of how far she’d come, and why she needed to stay focused if she wanted to achieve the goal of continuing her father’s legacy. The anniversary of his death was fast approaching, the up-coming banquet a stark reminder of all she’d lost.
“Alexandra.” Karen came to the door, her hands held out of front of her. “I tried to stop him.” Roman came into view, striding into the room, zeroing in on her quickly.
“Roman,” she bit out. “I told you I’m busy tonight.” Karen shot her a sympathetic smile and closed the door behind her.
He sat down in front of her desk, propping his legs out in front of him. “Yeah, you are. With me.”
“Noooo.” The promise of his company made her giddy with excitement, but responsibility told her to calm her happy ass down. She shook the yellow notepad toward him where she’d been taking notes, reminding them both why she shouldn’t. “I have to prep for a case.”
“Prep tomorrow. I want to have dinner tonight, and would love to have it with you. We’ll go to dinner and then you go home. I won’t bother you for sex and if you feel the need to work later, you can.” This was why she hadn’t dated, because men took time she wasn’t willing to give. But Roman wasn’t going away; he had actually parked his sexy ass in front of her desk, waiting for her to agree.
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “But”—she stopped him when the smirk appeared—“you can’t do this again. I’m only agreeing because you’re taking me somewhere ridiculously expensive and I’m ordering a filet and the most expensive bottle of wine as your punishment.”
He stalked toward her, forcing her to tip her head back so she could look in his face. “That supposed to scare me?” He gave her a hard kiss. “Be grateful you came without a fight, or I would have dragged you by your hair.”
“Careful, your caveman’s showing.” She pinched his ass, making him jerk and pushing his crotch right in her face.
“There are so many ways to take advantage of this, but I figure you’d cut me if I attempted a blow job in your office.”
“You think right.” She would, she couldn’t resist him, but it’d get her fired. She pushed him so they could get out of her office and get her nice, juicy steak, before she gave into her desire to do him on her desk. Besides, the sooner they ate, the sooner she’d get home and see what Franklin gave her. The stares of her coworkers were unnerving when they left the office. Alexandra never brought a man there, but damn, they didn’t have to treat it like he was the Sasquatch. Something rumored to exist but never seen. Whatever, she thought, standing taller when Roman put his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the elevators. Their reaction reinforced the idea they should be seen together.
He didn’t give her a choice when they reached the parking lot, ushering her into the waiting SUV.
“How many cars do you have?” she asked after they were on the way to the restaurant. His car smelled like him, the crisp, clean scent of his body wash. Distinct and subtle. Nothing spectacular, but all Roman.
“Two. This one and the GTO. Is that all you want to know, or would you like a list of all the items I own?” He smirked.
“Nah, your cars will do. You know what they say about the size of the man and the size of his car. Maybe you’re overcompensating.” She rubbed her hand over his thigh, heading directly to the seam of his pants. He stopped her right before she reached paradise.
“I’ll be happy to show you my stick shift later, but we both know I’m not overcompensating for anything.” He kissed her palm. She melted when he did little gestures such as that. He could be unbending, but when he showed her the softer side she dissolved.
“Fine, you’re not overcompensating. You’re just trying to show everybody your club makes more money than theirs,” she shot back, not letting on how she felt when he kissed her hand.
“Maybe,” he acquiesced. “Sex always sells. People don’t want to acknowledge it, but it’s true. Come on.” He opened the door, leaving the keys in the care of the valet. She did a happy dance when she saw her favorite steakhouse. “We’ll get your steak and wine.”
The hostess smiled brighter when he walked up. Back off, she wanted to tell the girl, who all but ignored Alexandra while she purred at Roman and asked if he was dining alone.
“No,” he told her, giving his name, pulling Alexandra closer and kissing her forehead. Feeling naughty, Alexandra stood on the balls of her feet so she could whisper in his ear.
“For that display, I promise to make you a very happy guy.” He turned his head, their lips mere centimeters away from each other so if either one moved, they would be kissing.
“Tonight?”
She nodded, then remembered her original plans for the evening and shook her head. “No, tomorrow. I have work.”
“You’re such a tease.” He rolled his eyes. “What good is sex on demand if you won’t put out?” The discrete cough brought them back to reality, where the hostess was glaring.
“Your table is ready, Mr. Valentine.” She pivoted on her heels, leading them to a darkened area of the restaurant designed for privacy. Roman held out her seat, making sure she was comfortable before he sat across for her.
He’s perfect for me. Why couldn’t we have met under different circumstances? Their waiter came, taking their drink order before leaving them alone.
“You knew I would come with you,” she accused, because the reservations had to have been made earlier, well before she told him yes.
“I was hopeful you’d be worn down by my charm.” He slid his arm across the table, palm side up, and Alexandra put her hand in his.
“It worked.” She turned his hand over, playing with his fingers and watching the water droplets fall from their glass as though it were the most interesting activity she’d seen in days.
“Talk to me.” She risked a glance up, her attention diverted to the platinum blonde sauntering toward their table as though she owned the place. The woman smirked at Alexandra, winking as she got closer, her attention on Roman. She stopped by the table, running her hand up the back of his head. Alexandra sat up straighter, pulling her hand away from his while he turned his attention to the blonde.
“Hello, darling.” The woman smiled, leaning down and kissing him squarely on the lips.
12
Roman jerked back from the unexpected kiss, wiping his mouth while Gina stood over him as though she were watching her prey. He risked a glance at Alexandra, who sat bemused, assessing the situation.
“What the hell is your problem?” he spat at Gina, ignoring the setting. If people stared, he didn’t give a shit; she accosted him for no reason, so she could deal with his anger.
“Darling.” She moved closer, her arms raised as though she would wrap them around his neck. She resembled a snake ready to suck the life out of her latest victim, and the smirk she sent him meant she knew what she was doing. He caught her arms moments before contact, moving her back forcefully so she wouldn’t touch him.
“Stop right there. I’m not your darling, and I’m trying to figure out why you’re over here pretending like we have a relationship. We don’t, we never will, and besides, won’t your husband have a problem with you over here kissing someone else?” She was still married, he’d never wanted her, and if he needed to take out a billboard or bang the words over her thick skull for her to get, it he would.
She raised her ringless hand, wiggling her fingers for emphasis. “What husband? The divorce will be finalized in no time. You knew we were getting a divorce. We’ve talked about it.”
“Once. In passing. I didn’t care, so why would I remember it? I have no clue why you’re coming up here and kissing me as though it’s your right. Alexandra is the only woman with the right to do so, and I made it clear weeks ago you weren’t allowed to touch me. You know I don’t stand for unwanted attention of any kind, and that’s twice now. What’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. You don’t want there to be a third time. Understand?” The veiled threat simmered beneath the surface—if she messed with him again she was kicked out of the club. He’d told her to leave him alone, but she seemed to believe since she’d had her claws in him once, she could dig in and stay. He’d tried it tactfully, and wasn’t above playing hardball.
“I understand.” She pouted.
“Thank you. Now excuse us, because we’re trying to have a nice, quiet dinner.” He meant without her, but his statement had the opposite effect of diverting her attention toward Alexandra. Gina focused on Alexandra, mouth falling open in an O formation as though Gina had no clue Alexandra sat there. The bitch knew where everyone was, as she tried to manipulate people like chess pieces for her enjoyment. Gina’s smile was saccharine. “Oh, I’m sorry. Roman has the worst manners. I can’t believe he didn’t introduce us.” She held out her hand, face devoid of any of the fake pleasantries she’d put on moments before.
Alexandra refused to move her hands from her lap. “He didn’t forget. He doesn’t want you to know me. You’re the kind of girl who smiles in someone’s face then puts her hands on someone else’s man as though it’s your right. Let me make something very clear, in case you didn’t get it from what he said. Roman’s trying to be nice, but I won’t be. I don’t share¸ and if you disrespect me or touch him again, I’ll make sure you’re sorry.”
Gina leaned down so she was in Alexandra’s face. “He wasn’t saying that a couple of months ago.”
“Yeah, but he took out the trash. And you’re acting like that lone piece of paper that won’t stay away, no matter how many times you put it in the garbage.” Roman covered the laugh with a cough, patting his chest when he felt it went down the wrong pipe.
“I have better things to be doing than talking to you two.” Gina slinked off, tossing her hair across her shoulder as she went—a move she thought was sexy but reeked of desperation.
Roman tried to adjust himself in his chair, the growing erection pushing against his zipper after watching Alexandra verbally bitch-slap Gina. “Damn, babe, that was kinda hot. And crazy. Crazy in a hot way.”
She chuckled, drinking her wine before responding. “I’ve always been proud of my crazy. I tend to pull it out in situations when it needs to match other crazy, and she’s as nutty as they come. But wipe the side of your mouth,” she pointed to the left side of her lip, “because you still have some lipstick.”
“Sorry.” He wiped his mouth with the linen napkin, grimacing at the fuchsia. It really was an awful shade.
Alexandra twirled her wineglass. “I’m not mad, but I need to know, am I going to need to worry about any other women coming up and acting like they own you?” He could have killed Gina for putting the doubts in Alexandra’s mind.
“No,” he reassured her. “She’s the only person riding that crazy train. I know we haven’t discussed it, but I didn’t date a lot before you. I own a sex club, and I’m not going to insult your intelligence and tell you I didn’t have relationships with other women, but those tended to happen away from the club. And all those women knew the score.”
Alexandra continued to avoid his gaze, twirling her pasta around with her fork. “What about me? You told me the score, yet somehow I’m sitting in a restaurant eating dinner with you as though we’re on a date.” Roman would give anything to assuage her fears, placing his had atop hers and squeezing it in comfort. She looked up, allowing him to read the confusion in her intelligent depths. He bobbed his knee, knowing he would be making himself vulnerable to a woman who had the power to destroy him. Because he was falling for her. And the thought of not being with her sent an ache straight through his chest. Now or never, he needed to convey what he felt to wipe some of the fear in her eyes.
“When I first met you, I believed nothing would happen. I didn’t need the complication. Even though I wanted you, I still refused you. But you bulldozed me, dazzled me, and made me so damn grateful you refused to take no for an answer. I told Gina the truth—you’re mine. You’re the one whose hands I want on me, and be damned sure I’m the only one who touches you. You’ve been mine from the beginning, even when I refused to acknowledge it.”
Her eyes shone with happiness. “I came into this arrangement looking for sex. Nothing more, nothing less. You’re the person I didn’t know I needed but always wished I had and the reality is more amazing than I could ever imagine.”
He smiled, feeling like the Grinch after his heart expanded. The blood rushed to his head as he considered the implications of her statement. She wanted him as much as he did her. She returned the smile, and Roman thought himself a pussy because one smile could drop him to his knees. He wanted to continue the conversation, but felt her bare foot creep up his pants legs. The blood rushing to his head took a quick trip downward, and he decided to spend the rest of the night inside her. “How bout I get the check?”
***
“What’s going on in your head tonight?” They lay in the quiet, Alexandra’s head was on his chest listening to his heartbeat, the aftershocks of her orgasm still running through her body while she contemplated Roman’s question. She rolled away from him, staring at the wall where he’d taken her when they’d first walked in his house. Another broken rule, coming to each other’s houses, but neither seemed to care when they left the restaurant.
“Nothing. I came back here to get away from my problems, not discuss them.” She jerked back when he slapped her ass, glaring while she rubbed the spot he’d just hit to take out some of the sting.
“Don’t do that.” He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her so her back was flush with his chest, pressing a kiss to the back of her head. “We’ve had an amazing few weeks and a really great dinner, so you can’t cry foul or tell me I have no business asking you what’s wrong now.”
She sighed; he was right. They’d been doing this weird friends-with-benefits deal since he’d taken her outside the bar, and dinner solidified it. She came to the club, they had sex, and then they talked. An unintended side effect of their relationship, they both found in each other a good listener.
Telling someone you really didn’t know about your problems was refreshing. No judgment from either party, and he didn’t dish out advice based on how he assumed she’d react. But no matter how many Romagasms he gave her, he was destined to be her good-time guy, a walking orgasm-maker. Blair knew she came to the club, and while her sister and mother wouldn’t care, her grandparents may have a heart attack if they knew. She was too damn old to worry about her family’s feelings, but if this was serious, she would have to introduce them.
“My job is bothering me,” she acknowledged. “My boss said some cryptic message earlier, and I’m trying to figure out what it all means.”
He moved, shifting their positions so she lay on the bed and he propped up on his elbow, looking down at her. She traced her finger down the line of his chest, loving the grooves. He put his hand on hers, stopping her wandering. “You want to expand your statement?”
“Nope,” she said, lifting up so she could kiss him. “But before I forget, I won’t be able to meet you on Saturday at the club. I’m going to a charity event and won’t get out until late.” He settled back down on the bed, dragging her over to him so she could lay her head on his chest.
“Survive and Thrive?”
She tensed. Survive and Thrive was the charity honoring her grandfather. “Not this week. But I am going later on this month. You know it?”
“Club Valentine sponsored the event.”
“Great.” She tried to sound casual while her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. “Are you going to the event?”
“Me? Nah. I have no business trying to rub elbows; I just want my name on the list. I know what it’s like to be orphaned. Someone very close to me left two small children.” He rolled away from her, getting up to go to the bathroom before she answered him.
The relief she felt in knowing he wouldn’t be there filled her with shame. Don’t take anyone to bed you can’t bring to the light, her mother had taught her, but Alexandra had never been the best student. When she’d started this, she expected to get her rocks off and go on her merry way. She never expected their relationship to get this far. Roman came out of the bathroom, bathed in the light, unfazed by his nudity. He kneeled on the bed, leaning over her.
“Alexandra.” He reached for his shirt, not looking at her. “I’m exhausted, and I know you’re swamped with work. What do you say we cut this short and I take you back to your car?”
“Um…okay?” Why was he suddenly treating her like she had the plague? Still feeling raw from their earlier conversation, she wrapped the sheet around her while she searched for her clothing. Of course, nothing was within easy reach, and she risked further embarrassment by walking across the room and grabbing her panties. She threw the skirt on—she’d just forgo panties—and pulled her top over her head sans bra. He jingled his keys, his face drawn and mouth tipped down. He’d been fine minutes before, so why the sudden brush-off? She couldn’t stay silent.
“Is something wrong? Did I offend you?”
The side of his jaw ticked. He was gritting his teeth so hard she feared he’d chip one. “No. I need to go to the club, and we need to keep this in perspective.” She picked up her panties on the way out the door.
