Текст книги "Big Bad Wolfe"
Автор книги: Danielle Doolittle
Соавторы: Elle Doolittle
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 10 страниц)
Chapter Two
Sarah stared at her blank computer screen. She couldn’t believe she actually said those things. Out loud. In a room full of people she had to see on a daily basis. It had been four hours and she could still feel her face burn every time she thought how she went off on Falon in front of everyone. It was so unlike her, but the surprise of seeing him walk through the door and straight into her life for the next few months had pushed her over the edge. So really, it was all his fault.
Oh, God. What must he think?
Sarah buried her face in her hands. At least he didn’t seem to recognize her. She didn’t know what she would do if he came storming through her office door demanding an explanation. She didn’t have one. Not for this morning and definitely not for what happened nine years ago. Even though she wasn’t the only one to blame for that night, she still felt guilty. Yet another incident Falon Wolfe had made her act completely out of character.
The sudden staccato knock on her door had her heart attempting an escape through her throat.
“Hey girl, Frank and I were wondering …”
She looked up when Marcy’s voice cut off. “You were wondering?”
“You okay?”
“You and Frank were wondering if I was okay?”
“No. We were wondering if you wanted to get some lunch with us.” Marcy waved a hand at her. “Coming in here finding you like this has me wondering if you’re okay.”
She looked down at herself and felt the millionth blush of the day coming on. She had kicked off her shoes hours ago while ranting Marcy’s ear off after the meeting that morning. In fact, they were still flung on opposite sides of the room. She’d gotten herself so worked up over the startling turn of events this morning she shed her usual conservative button-down. It was now a wrinkled heap on the corner of her desk. She sat before Marcy wearing only a thin camisole, a pencil skirt, and her shame.
Marcy raised a questioning brow. “Lunch then?”
“Uh—yeah.” Sarah bent and slipped on the closest shoe. “Just let me put myself back together.”
“I’d nix the shirt,” Marcy said when she held the offending article of clothing up for closer examination. “The thing has more wrinkles than my great aunt Nancy.”
“You don’t have an Aunt Nancy.” She placed the shirt back on the desk and picked up her purse.
“It’s a euphemism kid, let’s go.”
Marcy held out Sarah’s other shoe to her as they walked through the door. She struggled to put the pump on while keeping up with Marcy’s long-legged stride. Marcy stopped in her tracks causing Sarah to nearly slam into her as she hopped along behind. Finally sliding the stubborn shoe onto her foot, she felt the hairs on her neck stand to attention again. Great. Not bothering to look, she knew Falon was standing in the doorway to the office next to hers and knew his eyes were on her. Lowering her foot to the ground, she peeked over at him and didn’t miss the way he watched her actions. Like she was some strange bug yet to be cataloged by science. Double great.
“Oh, Mr. Wolfe, we were just headed out for lunch.” Marcy’s voice was all honey. Sarah stared daggers at her backstabbing friend. Didn’t she spend twenty minutes this morning listening to her go into detail how Mr. Wolfe was pond scum? And here she was, inviting the man to lunch. Maybe it wasn’t too late to sneak back to her office and hide under the desk until five o’clock.
“It’s Falon, please Ms. …”
“Marcy.”
Dear Lord, the woman was batting her eyes in a bad imitation of Scarlett O’Hara. Run girl, Falon Wolfe was no Rhett Butler.
“Marcy. I would love to join you ladies.” He looked between the two of them. “If you would give me just a minute?”
“What are you doing?” Sarah hissed at Marcy as soon as he was out of earshot.
“Inviting the man to lunch.” She watched as the light bulb finally clicked on for Marcy. “Crap! I’m sorry Sarah, but you know my I’m a sucker for a handsome face and that Falon Wolfe is as hot as they come. What’s your problem with him anyway? This much anxiety can’t just be over the old man’s business.”
She opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it. Marcy wasn’t exactly the best person to spill your personal secrets to and this one was a doozy. So she clamped her mouth shut and shook her head.
“It doesn’t matter, he just rubs me the wrong way.”
Which was a boldfaced lie. For all that Falon was a dog of gigantic proportions, the man could certainly rub a woman the right way. She felt herself blushing again and willed it to stop before Marcy made assumptions that were too close to the truth for her comfort.
“Ready to go?” Falon appeared in the doorway to his office with a patient smile. It was like the man knew they were talking about him and loved every minute of it. Which was probably the truth. She felt her eyes narrow as she forced her gaze straight ahead.
“Is Frank meeting us there?” she asked Marcy, who was suffering from the inability to take her eyes off of Falon.
“Huh?” She visibly shook herself. “Oh, no he should be here any minute. You know Frank, perpetually late.”
Sarah noticed the calculating gleam enter Falon’s eyes and thought it best to take some of the heat off of Frank’s inability to be on time.
“Only when it comes to meeting up with us,” she said, shooting Falon a quick look. “Anything important he is usually on time.”
“Speak for yourself, sugar.” Marcy crossed her arms over her ample chest as Frank finally started toward them from his office down the hall. Poor man didn’t even know he was in the doghouse yet. Sarah had a feeling he was about to find out. She rolled her eyes as Marcy linked her arm through Falon’s, forcing her and Frank to follow behind. As if the day couldn’t get any worse.
***
Sitting at the high table in the little sports bar Frank had insisted they go to, Falon couldn’t help thinking he had walked right into the middle of something. Marcy had insisted he sit next to her and ever since the waitress took their drink orders he had been dodging her very blatant advances.
He didn’t miss the dejected looks Frank kept shooting the brazen brunette either. Yep, definitely found myself smack dab in the middle of a lover’s spat. There was nothing comfortable about being the other man. Unless of course he went in knowing his role. Then he was always very comfortable. If judging by the death glare Sarah maintained, he wasn’t treading on consensual ground.
“So, Frank, you’re an agent?” he asked, firmly removing Marcy’s curious hand from his thigh.
“That’s right.” Frank eyed him suspiciously. Like he knew what Marcy was up to under the table and it was somehow Falon’s fault.
“How do you like it?”
“In the good times it’s wonderful. The best part is watching someone that you pulled from nonexistence become this supernova. The pride that fills you when your little protégé takes the world by the horns and conquers the universe that is show business, there’s nothing like it.”
He could only nod. The other man came to life talking about his work. Falon shifted in his seat. He’d felt that way once. That passion. Now it was more cool calculation. The man’s love for his job was obvious and it made him more than a little uncomfortable. He was used to men like himself, men who were more interested in the bottom line than anything else.
Lifting his water glass to his lips, he unknowingly left his obviously vulnerable lap unguarded. When Marcy’s hand swooped in and not so subtly planted itself a little bit north of its previous exploration, he couldn’t suppress his surprised jerk and nearly lost a mouthful of water through his nose.
Shooting his gaze across the table to see if anyone noticed Manhandling Marcy’s actions, he met Sarah’s golden eyes and prayed his silent plea for her to call her friend off translated. When she narrowed her eyes and shifted that very effective death glare to her friend, he let out a breath. Thank God. He was pretty sure she wasn’t taking mercy on him, but Frank, who was looking less than chipper, but whatever got Marcy’s hands out of his lap would work for him.
“If you’ll excuse me, guys,” Sarah finally spoke up. “I need to use the restroom. Marcy?”
“Hmm?”
“You coming?” He didn’t miss the impatience in her voice and apparently neither did the woman currently flexing her fingers on a very sensitive part of his body.
“Fine,” Marcy huffed and slid off her chair. “I don’t know why you can’t go alone. You’re just perpetuating a misconception held by all men that women are incapable of doing a simple task like peeing without at least one friend for assistance.”
He bit back a chuckle as her tirade about men’s views of women continued across the restaurant. Ralph Maxwell was right about people in this business being a little over the top. He was pretty sure Marcy took the cake in the drama queen department and could only imagine the discussion going on in the ladies’ room right now. If it was anything like this morning, the woman was getting an ear full from Sarah right about now. What he wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall …
“Sorry about her.” Frank’s quiet words drew his thoughts back to the table. “She’s just mad at me for last night and you’re the closest available male to … well you know.”
“I take it her little jab about you being late has something to do with this as well?”
Frank sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, she had planned this big night based on a book she read. You know the one …”
He held up a hand. “Say no more.”
The other man laughed. “Long story short, I forgot about it and was running late and she got impatient. Then angry and now … now she’s getting even.”
“She doesn’t strike me as the waiting type.”
“That she is not.” Frank shook his head and took a drink of his soda. Falon shared a commiserating smile with him, and despite himself, found that he kind of liked the poor sod.
***
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Sarah rounded on Marcy as soon as she was sure they were alone in the restroom.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Marcy leaned over a sink, examining her makeup in the mirror.
“Oh, come off it. You’re mad at Frank for some reason I probably don’t want to know about, and you’re taking it out on poor Falon.”
“Poor Falon? We’re you the one who just half an hour ago was likening the guy to the worst kind of dog and now he’s poor Falon?”
She shifted her weight before catching herself. She wasn’t about to let Marcy turn this around on her.
“Whatever he may be. No one deserves to be put in the middle of the games you play with Frank.”
“I’m not—” The other woman cut off whatever she was about to say when she saw Sarah’s arched brow. “Fine, maybe I am, but he deserves it this time. I had a whole thing planned last night. I went out and got this hot leather corset and the cutest little whip—”
“Stop!” Sarah cut her off before descriptions got out of hand. She so did not want to know what she and Frank were into in the bedroom department. She would never be able to go to lunch with them again. “Just behave for the next hour or so, okay?”
Marcy nodded before returning her attention to the mirror to adjust her cleavage. When she was satisfied the ladies were positioned for optimal appeal, she spun back to Sarah with a sly smile.
“Let me just tell you, from what I felt, it’s one lucky girl who gets the honor of landing that man.” Marcy’s eyes grew big and Sarah felt herself blush yet again. It had to be a record for her today.
“Let’s just get back out there before they think we fell in.” She ground past her rigid jaw.
What she really wanted to do was turn tail and run back to the agency. She wanted to scream. Rant that she knew all too well what it felt like to land Falon Wolfe. She hadn’t forgotten in the nine years she had tried to block him from her thoughts. No matter what she’d done, he still found his way into her dreams more nights than she was willing to admit to. Apparently, fate was having a good ol’ laugh at her expense to throw him in her path yet again. Thank God he didn’t seem to recognize her. Although, the more she thought about it, the more she wasn’t sure if that said something negative about her or him.
Back at the table, Marcy made sure to slide into the seat next to Frank, leaving Sarah to cozy up to Falon. Sitting at the very edge of her chair, she couldn’t seem to relax. This close to him she could pick up on the subtle scent of his spicy cologne but it was the underlying scent of his skin, something dark and mysterious and oh so familiar that had her nearly falling off the chair.
Every time the man adjusted his position she swore she could feel the bunching of her muscles in response to his heat. Her entire focus was on the man beside her she was oblivious to the conversation flowing around her. She snuck a peek at Falon as he threw his head back in laughter at something Frank had said. The sound of his deep laugh sent a delicious shiver down her spine and wondered if they would notice if she moved to another table. She was going to go crazy before lunch was over.
“So, where did you go to school?” Frank’s question cut right through her escape plans. Uh-oh, things just went from uncomfortable to DEFCON 1 in seven little words. Sarah ignored the zing of awareness and scooted closer to the table and the conversation that could prove to be very embarrassing.
“Northwestern for undergrad then on to Harvard Business,” Falon spoke around the waitress placing their meals in front of them. Sarah looked down at her salad dispassionately wondering where her appetite had gone.
“No kidding,” Frank said around a mouthful of medium-rare cheeseburger. “Sarah here went to Northwestern, didn’t you?”
She cringed when he pointed his dripping, pink burger in her direction. His quick movements caused lettuce and condiments to spill onto the table and Sarah to narrow her eyes at his unrepentant sloppiness. What did Marcy see in the man?
“Really?” Falon turned the full force of his liquid brown eyes on her and she fought her impulse to squirm in her seat.
“Y-yes.” The man had her stuttering like the girl she had been the first time she laid eyes on his chiseled features and square jaw. “I graduated five years ago with a degree in business management.”
“No kidding.” He continued to study her and she got the feeling that he was trying to place her in the twisted road of his past. “You would have been a freshman my senior year.”
She could only shrug and pick at her salad and avoid meeting his eyes. She was afraid that he would see that girl she had been that first year in college behind the hardened resolve life and forced upon her. She never wanted to be that vulnerable again.
“It’s a big school, I’m not surprised we never ran into each other,” she mumbled before forcing a forkful of salad past her lips. God, but she remembered in vivid, glorious detail.
“We were in the same program, we should have run into each other at some point.” She could still feel his quizzical gaze on her as he spoke. She forced herself to swallow. Might as well get the whole story out now and save herself the danger of him digging around in the past.
“I was pre-law that year.”
“Just that year? What changed?”
She turned and looked him in the eyes. “My father was a pilot and proud of the fact. My parents were making the rounds picking up my brother and me for fall break. They had just left Boston with Eric when the storm hit. They never made it to Illinois.”
She didn’t miss how quiet the table had gotten during her explanation. Frank and Marcy knew the story, they had been with the agency when her father had been involved and the memories were almost as painful for them as they were for her. Maxwell, Williams, and Blake was a family then, and they still were now. No matter how dysfunctional they may seem from the outside, those who were left at the agency were its backbone.
“I’m … I’m sorry.” Falon’s voice was rough and she thought she detected genuine regret there. She shrugged and pushed back the pain of the memory of that phone call telling her that she lost three of the most important people in her life in an instant.
“I changed my major my sophomore year. With my father and Eric gone, it was up to me to help Gramps with the agency.”
“You’re Ralph’s granddaughter?” She could only smile at the startled realization in his voice.
“So they tell me.” She felt the wistful smile form before she could stop it. “Someone had to take care of the old man, so after college I joined the agency and did my best to save a sinking ship.”
Chapter Three
Falon sat at his borrowed desk flipping through the last ten years of client history for the agency. Unable to focus let alone read through the pile of papers, he frowned. Something kept tugging at his memory as he replayed Sarah’s story. It sounded so familiar. It could be that it reflected his own past. Except where hers had a private plane his had a drunk driver and his parent’s ancient rusted-out Cadillac.
When Sarah dropped the bomb about being Ralph Maxwell’s granddaughter, his mind immediately jumped to the conclusion that the failed business was a case of misplaced loyalties. He figured the old man placed his young granddaughter in such a pivotal position within the company as both an act of penance and blind faith in his only blood heir. He’d seen it before more times than he liked to admit.
Four hours of searching for Sarah’s mishandling of the finer workings of the agency and the only thing he had to show for it was a growing headache and a grudging respect for the woman. The business had been slowly declining years before she was hired as the accounts director. If the paper trail was to be believed, she had actually turned things around in that first year. Looks like she put that Northwestern education to use. But whatever efforts she had made just hadn’t been enough as the next year things started to slip away again.
Running a hand over his face, he tried to push the past back where it belonged. He was fifteen when the accident happened and three years later he vowed to never go back to the lifestyle he’d survived since. Sighing, he pushed back from the desk and loosened his tie. His jacket found a home across the back of the only other chair in the room hours ago during his first round of distractions. When he picked up the mug Frank had loaned him and found it empty, he decided a little caffeine fortification was in order if he was going to get through the next hour or so and actually get something accomplished.
He walked down the hall to the small kitchen located across from the conference room. It was eerily quiet. He always found the sound of silence in a space that should be bustling with activity disturbing. Growing up on the wrong side of Chicago he had learned the dangers of an empty building the hard way. Frustrated with himself, he pushed the memories of an empty stomach and abandoned buildings back where they belonged. He knew coming back here would bring back thoughts of his past, but he hadn’t counted on them being so frequent. Shake it off Wolfe, it’s not like you’re not used to an empty room.
His mug full of steaming coffee, Falon turned to head back to his office when the door burst open. Standing there in the thin tank top that nearly drove him insane at lunch was the last person he needed to see.
***
Sarah stood there for a moment, one hand holding the door open while she carried her oversized coffee mug in the other. Tempting as it was to turn right around and go back to her office, she needed to get some work done, and coffee was a must for that. Lots and lots of coffee. The agency still had a few clients after all, and just because their future looked shaky that didn’t mean they were allowed to drop the ball. Retaining those few clients could mean life or death for Maxwell, Williams, and Blake and Sarah would be damned if she was going to go down without a fight. Hence the coffee refill. She did her best thinking hopped up on caffeine.
What she hadn’t counted on was the very object of her distraction standing in the small kitchen looking a million times more appealing than the dark brew she could see curling steam in his face. Falon stood, coffee mug raised halfway to his sculpted lips looking like he belonged. He had ditched the tailored suit jacket and expensive tie since the last time she had seen him. His white shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows exposing strong forearms and he had loosened the top two buttons of his shirt revealing just a hint of the magnificent chest Sarah knew was underneath.
“Just need a refill,” she said when she could pick her jaw up off the floor.
It wasn’t fair the man still had such an effect on her. Her mind knew how dangerous he was, but her body must not have gotten the message. When he raised his own mug and tilted his head in a mock salute, she felt her insides begin to melt. The play of muscles in the small movements left her mouth dry and her stomach quivering. Moving quickly she maneuvered past him to the coffee pot. Careful not to touch him for fear she would embarrass herself further and jump the man in the middle of the office kitchen. No. No, she would never.
“Long day?” Falon’s deep voice caressed her. What was she saying no to again?
“You could say that.” She added a liberal amount of sugar to her coffee. “We’re still a functioning agency with clients to see to. This situation just adds a little more to my plate.”
When she turned around, his brows were drawn together in confused curiosity.
“You care about this place.” It wasn’t a question, but she felt herself nodding anyway.
“Just because it isn’t what I initially set out to do with my life doesn’t mean that I haven’t found satisfaction in my work.” She bristled under his regard.
“I never said anything to the contrary.” He smirked at her. Now she remembered why she had been saying no.
“If you’re done pointing out the obvious, I have some actual work to do.”
She made to leave when his next words stopped her. “I didn’t mean to offend. I’ve been doing this a long time and it’s rare that I come across someone who actually cares about their job.”
She spun to study the man who had haunted her dreams for nearly a decade. For the first time, she noticed the inner light that once shown from his luminous brown eyes had diminished. Instead of the warmth of promise that had once drawn her like a moth to flame there was now a cold, detached hardness. In that moment, she ached to know what changed him and feared to ask.
“That’s sad.” Her voice came out huskier than she would have liked. Revealing her emotions to this man could prove a fatal mistake.
“It is what it is.” He merely shrugged and took a drink from his now cooling coffee. “It has been my experience that only one thing matters out there and that’s the bottom line.”
She studied him for a moment longer before nodding and opening the door. She couldn’t stop looking back over her shoulder at the cynical man he had become.
“I’m not sure which is sadder, the idea that money is the end-all-be-all or that you may actually believe that.”
She let her anger at his statements carry her back to her office. She didn’t care if she was being unreasonable. She embraced the anger. Let it burn away any reaction her uncooperative body was having to the man. It didn’t matter that he looked like sin on a stick or that he smelled like a girl’s olfactory fantasy come to life. She wasn’t going to keep thinking about stripping that well-fitting white shirt off his muscular chest and checking to see if he tasted as good as he smelled.
No. She wasn’t. Starting now.
The quick knock on her door had Sarah looking up from the client schedule she didn’t remember picking up. Her traitorous thoughts instantly went to Falon. The thought of him standing outside her closed door had her heart skipping a beat before attempting to pound its way out of her chest. So much for not reacting …
“C-come in.” She shook her head at her inability to keep it together.
“Hey girl.” Marcy poked her head into the room. “Frank and I are taking off for the night, you coming?”
“I have some more to finish up before Ginny Green’s shoot tomorrow.”
“All right, don’t stay here too late.”
“I won’t.”
Marcy hesitated but seemed to think better of whatever she was about to say before nodding and closing the door. She would put money on the other woman fighting the urge to tell her to go out and enjoy life. She could recall, verbatim, Marcy’s argument that Sarah was young and beautiful. That she should be out making new “friends” as Marcy had taken to calling the men she dreamed of hooking up with. She knew that her friend thought that she spent too much time behind a desk and not enough time looking for Mr. Right, or more specifically Mr. Right-Now.
It wasn’t like she didn’t want a man in her life. She often thought about getting herself a boyfriend, someone to share things with. It just hadn’t happened yet. There was always the illusion of someone else that she held them up to and the sad fact was they didn’t measure up. Not even close. Sighing, she glanced through the glass wall that separated her office from the hallway and watched Falon’s liquid movements carry him to the neighboring office. As he disappeared from view, she didn’t want to think that perhaps she was ruined for other men.
Three hours later Sarah still couldn’t concentrate fully on her work. She had managed to hammer out the rest of the details for Ginny Green’s next few weeks but beyond that she had to concede she was useless. And it was all Falon’s fault. Again.
She couldn’t keep her mind from combining the Falon from her past with the isolated man he was today. A part of her wanted to push against that frigid reserve he had developed over the past decade. She wanted to see just what it would take to shatter that ice and reach the heat she remembered being such a part of the man that drew her so strongly so many years earlier.
She shook her head and stood, not entirely successful in dislodging the idea of Falon’s heat. She had gotten too close to the flame before and been burned. Her mind knew it would be a colossal mistake, but her body couldn’t help sparking the memories of his touch that hadn’t diminished in nine years. Maybe she needed to take Marcy up on her offer to introduce her to someone. Anything to take the edge off. She ignored her body’s protest of the idea of anyone else’s touch but Falon’s. The reaction only firmed her resolved to call Marcy when she got home.
She shut the door to her office behind her. Used to being the last one in the building, she didn’t think to check if anyone else was there so when she felt a tap on her shoulder she reacted without thought. Before her assailant could react, Sarah had him on the ground clutching an astoundingly sensitive piece of his anatomy rather tightly.
“Holy—” The strangled word cut off in a groan and she relaxed.
“Falon? What in the—” She looked down at the crumpled man in the dimness of the office lights and nearly laughed as he grimaced up at her.
“I could say,” he said between painful pants, “the same … for you.”
Sarah let out a chuckle at the pitiful look that crossed his face.
“I’m not the one grabbing women in darkened office buildings.”
“I didn’t grab you. I was going to see if you needed someone to walk out with you. It’s getting dark and Chicago isn’t exactly Disney Land.”
She reached out a hand to help him to his feet.
“That’s kind of you, but I can take care of myself.”
“I can see that.” He smiled at the ridiculousness of the situation and she caught a hint of the old Falon, the one who could see humor in anything. Steeling herself against the urge to melt against him she stiffened her spine.
“I take an annual self-defense class. Besides I’m probably the scariest thing out there in this neighborhood.”
She watched in fascination as something dark passed through his liquid eyes. “You can never be too careful.”
She could only snort at the natural response of a big man protecting his woman. Not that she was his woman. Or that she wanted to be.
Turning toward the door before he could see her blush, she led the way out of the building. The doors automatically locked once the alarm system was activated so she continued down the street to the nearby parking garage.
The whole time Falon walked silently beside her. Making her very self-conscious of the way the sticky summer heat made her hair curl at the ends. She wanted to lift the heavy mass off of her shoulders but didn’t want to show the man any weakness. That the idea of the sultry breeze dancing across her bare neck and shoulders seemed too intimate with him so near. Her nerves seemed supercharged when he was close making her feel more and more like that shy, quiet nineteen-year-old all over again.
“I heard Frank talking about a club across town.” He broke the silence.
“Marcy said something about them going out tomorrow.”
“But not you?” She could feel him studying her.
“But not me.”
“Why?”
Sarah spun on him. She could take Marcy judging her complete lack of a social life, but Falon was just too much.
“Why does it matter to you? You’re here to help my grandfather’s company, not my love life.”
She stood in the middle of the sidewalk with her hands planted firmly on her hips glaring at him. Begging him to let that smirk she could see forming bloom into a full-fledged smile. Almost as if he couldn’t help himself his lips spread into a wolfish smile.
“Does your love life need help?” he said after a beat of silence.
Sarah couldn’t be positive, but the sound that escaped her closely resembled a noise she overheard one of Frank’s nieces make when she was denied a treat. She couldn’t analyze her apparent regression to frustrated child. She was too mad. She nearly stomped her foot in true toddler meltdown fashion before turning on her heel and walking swiftly toward the parking garage once more.
Falon’s low laughter followed her and she couldn’t suppress her next urge. When she extended an arm and gave him the universally understood hand gesture, he only laughed louder. Infuriating man.
She reached the cool darkness of the parking structure when she heard his hurried footsteps behind her.
