Текст книги "Feisty Princess"
Автор книги: Michelle A. Valentine
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 6 страниц)
Margo
IT TAKES EVERYTHING IN ME not to bash my head against the expensive marble counter as I sit at the island in my mother’s ridiculously huge kitchen. I’m trying to figure out a way to tell her that I married a total rat-bastard this weekend on accident. Seriously, when Jean Paul renovated his Upper East Side apartment, he spared no expense when it came to this kitchen. It makes sense because he does occasionally film segments of his television show in here.
“That man takes such good care of me.” Mother busies herself with punching reheat on two of the pre-cooked meals her husband prepared for her in his absence. “He won’t leave for a trip if he hasn’t left food for me to heat up while he’s gone.” She turns to face me with a dreamy expression on her face. “I really think I’ve found a good one this time, Margo, honey. This one is a keeper.”
I love my mother, but it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes and blurt out ‘that’s what you said about the last four.’ My mother is a hopeful romantic, always believing in soul mates and fate and all that hokey nonsense.
She takes in the expression on my face and then shakes her head, causing her long dark curls to bounce around her shoulders. “Don’t give me that look.”
My mouth drops. Sometimes I forget how good she is at reading what’s on my mind even if I don’t make a move to voice it. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. I’m your mother, Margo. I can read how much you detest the idea of love by the expression on your face. I’m pretty good at that, you know. Matter-of-fact, I once had this clairvoyant tell me I was a natural at reading auras.” The sound of the microwave dings, signaling that our food is ready and interrupting her train of thought. She lifts one of the plates of grilled chicken to her nose. “Ah. This smells wonderful. Jean Paul is a man of many talents, cooking being one of them.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
My face twists. “Ew. Mother. Please. I’m your child, for God’s sake. I don’t need to hear about your sex life.”
She sets a plate in front of me and then waves me off dismissively. “Oh, please, darling. You’re a grown woman. It’s not like you are too young to hear about this.”
I wrinkle my nose as I cut into the chicken in front of me. “There’s never going to be an age when I’m old enough to discuss sex with you.”
Mother pulls out the barstool across from me and takes a seat before she begins to cut up her food. “Speaking of sex, I took the liberty of Googling Alexander King while you were off gallivanting with him last week.”
I raise one eyebrow as I swallow down the food in my mouth and do my best not to choke. “Why would you do that?”
“I had to see exactly who my daughter was spending all her time with.”
This time, I do roll my eyes. “Don’t let his beautiful face fool you. He’s not pleasant to be around.”
“The hot ones never are, dear. That’s what makes them so fun. They’re a challenge.” A smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. She’s no doubt reliving some memory of a time she spent with some old asshole boyfriend as she takes a sip of her water. “Tell me, was that trip to Vegas all work or did you manage to get some playtime in with the notorious Naughty King?”
For a moment, I debate whether to lie to her. I could stick to the story that absolutely nothing happened between Alexander and me, but knowing how well she can read me, she’ll see right through me.
I readjust in my seat. “I would like to say that it was all business . . .”
“But?” she prods.
“It wasn’t,” I answer honestly.
Her smile widens as she leans in, clamoring for the juicy bit of gossip she can tell is about to spill out of my mouth. “Do tell. And don’t leave out one sordid detail.”
I close my eyes and wrinkle my nose. There’s no way I can hide what happened in Vegas from her. Besides, she’s the one person in this world I can trust with this secret. “I slept with him.”
“That’s my girl!” she exclaims and then instantly launches into a question. “How was it?”
“Mother!”
“What? Inquiring minds, darling. Are you going to see him again?”
I lift one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t want to, but I’m afraid I’ll be forced to.”
She nods. “That’s right. The whole spy mission your father has you on. I nearly forgot about that. If you really don’t want to see Alexander King anymore, just quit and tell your father that you’re done being his little tattletale. Lord knows how hard it is to be in close proximity to an ex-lover. Your father should understand and not make too much of a fuss over the situation.”
I sigh. “It’s not that simple, I’m afraid.”
“But it is. If you’re afraid to tell your father, I’ll call and tell—”
“My issues are much bigger than handling Daddy.”
She bunches her brow, clearly confused. I can see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she tries to figure out what I’m hiding. “Then what is it?”
“I married the bastard on a drunken whim,” I blurt out before I lose my nerve.
Her eyes widen. “Say again? I’m not sure I heard that quite right. It sounded like you just told me that my only child ran off to Vegas and got married for the very first time without me present.”
My lips twitch and finally pull down at one corner. “It’s not like I planned for it to happen. Hell, I don’t even remember it.”
“Oh, dear.” Mother sighs. “Does your father know?”
I nod. “Of course he does. He thinks this is excellent leverage to have on Alexander.”
We sit in silence for a few moments and then Mother says, “Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing.”
That’s not exactly what I was expecting her to say. “How can you say that? Being married to Alexander King is one of the worst things I can ever imagine happening to me in my life.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I push my half-eaten plate of food away before folding my arms across my chest. “Of course, I am. He’s a pompous asshole, and I can’t believe I allowed myself to get in to this situation.”
“See, dear, that’s where I think this marriage might not be such a bad thing.”
Clearly, my mother is allowing Alexander’s disgustingly good looks to blind her to the truth of how awful he is. “You’re not grasping the—”
“I understand just fine.” She cuts me off and then levels her gaze on me. “I’m not sure you’re seeing that maybe fate has a way of intervening, even if you don’t believe what’s happening is the best thing. If you let your guard down enough to marry him, drunk or not, he can’t be all bad, can he? There has to be some small part of you that enjoys being with him or else you would’ve never gone through with a quickie Vegas wedding.”
I open my mouth to argue—to explain that the liquor completely impaired my judgment when it came to Alexander, but that wouldn’t exactly be the truth. I had sex with the man two times before I even had a drink of alcohol. I have no excuse for that. Alexander King is a very intoxicating man, and it pisses me off that I find it so hard to resist him.
Margo
MY PALMS SWEAT AS I sit at my desk, waiting for the moment Alexander comes marching through the door. I don’t recall the last time I’ve been this nervous. That man just has a way of pushing my buttons, even when he’s not around. I seriously entertained Mom’s idea of quitting, but I know Daddy would kill me if I gave up on saving the company, so here I am.
All night long, I ran scenarios through my head of what it would be like to see him today. I have loads of fiery dialogue just waiting to assault him the moment that cocky mouth of his opens and he says one cross thing to me.
The soft ding of the elevator stopping on this otherwise quiet floor catches my attention. I practically leap out of my seat, not wanting to be in a position to be talked down to if it is Alexander.
It’s only seven. Most of the employees don’t start rolling in for at least another forty-five minutes, but I know that Alexander is always the first one at the office every morning.
I hold my breath as I hear heavy footsteps head in my direction.
Our gazes meet as soon as he rounds the corner and turns into my office. He’s always so put together, and today is no different as he waltzes toward my desk in his perfectly pressed black suit. I stare into Alexander’s gray eyes, ready to begin our verbal sparring match, but I never get the chance to say a word. He turns without so much as a word to me and storms into his adjoining office, slamming the door shut behind him in the process.
My mouth drops open. So much for my thought-out plan of attack.
I plop down in my chair and do my best to pretend the man, who is now my husband, isn’t on the other side of that door, avoiding me at all costs.
Asshole.
I flip off the door but refuse to go chasing after him to demand answers. If he wants to play ‘let’s pretend last weekend never happened,’ then so be it.
Game on.
He will not control my thoughts any longer. I won’t allow it because I’ve done nothing but obsess about him since I arrived back in New York. If I haven’t been daydreaming about the way his hands felt on me, then figuring out a way to take him down has consumed me. I wish he weren't such a fantastic lover. Maybe then, I could jerk my head out of the fucking clouds and stop thinking about Alexander King in toe-curling sexual positions.
I sigh and check the clock on my computer screen. It’s nearly twelve, and there still hasn’t been a peep out of Alexander. Not even for his coffee—which is odd since he always seems to take great pleasure in having me fetch on his command.
I’ll be damned if I break the little silence game we have going on between us. I refuse to allow him to believe he has an inch of power over me. I still want him to think I’m ready to stick it to him at any moment for not having a prenup in place before he married me.
I return my attention back to the statistical figures for King Enterprises that I’ve been able to get my hands on. All morning, I’ve been looking for traces of unethical practices that can help me in my pursuit to take Alexander King down with a bit of blackmail. Unfortunately for me, nothing of use has turned up. To my surprise, this company seems to do everything by the book.
The phone on my desk rings, and I snatch it off my desk the moment Alexander’s name flashes across the caller ID. “Yes, Mr. King. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I need a car brought around in exactly fifteen minutes,” he orders without as much as a greeting.
I don’t appreciate the bossy tone in his voice, so I decide to throw a little dig of my own at him. “Of course, sir. Is there anything else you need from me? Your messages, coffee, divorce papers? Oh, wait, I forgot that we need to tie up many loose ends before we close that deal.”
The last one has me biting my lip to hold back a snicker. I don’t even have to see the expression on his face to know that one has him seething.
“Margo . . .” he says my name with a warning, but I’ve decided I need to keep going—keep pushing his buttons.
“Do I detect some anger? Is that any way to speak to your wife? We are still in that newlywed phase, after all.”
“Margo,” he growls. “Get your ass in this office so we can discuss this matter privately. We don’t need the entire fucking office knowing our goddamn business.”
I raise my eyebrows while a smirk crosses my face. “No need to get touchy. I—”
Click.
Before I can throw out anything else, Alexander stops me in my tracks by hanging up.
The smile still rests on my face as I push myself up from my desk. I like the idea of having this egotistical man by the balls. His reputation of dicking women over precedes him in this city, so I love the idea that I’ve one-upped this man.
Now all I have to do is march in there and keep up this bitch persona. The only chance I have of keeping him at bay is to continue to piss him off. If he despises me, then he’ll stay on the other side of that desk and not attempt to use those magical hands on me. Lord knows, if he touches me, I’ll lose all self-control, and I cannot allow that to happen. This is my one shot at forcing Alexander King into not taking over my father’s company. It’s also one of my last chances to put distance between the two of us and regain control of my heart before it falls for this wicked man.
Alexander
I ADJUST MY TIE FOR the third time and take a deep breath, readying myself to enter into battle with Margo. I hadn’t planned her to be here early this morning, so when I walked in and saw her sitting at her desk, I froze and not one damn word would come out of my mouth. I figured silence was best until I could figure out a way to convince her of my plan. I spent some time last night figuring out how I could spin this situation to make me look good to the board.
The door swings open, and I lean back in my chair and steeple my fingers in front of me. If I’ve learned one thing about Margo, it’s that she’s a shark like me. Any sign of a little blood and she’ll attack, so it’s best to put on a good front and pretend that I’m not the least bit rattled.
Margo struts through the door with her chin tipped up, and I can tell by the heated expression on her face that getting her on my side will not be an easy task.
“Sit,” I order her.
She shakes her head. “I think I’ll stand.”
Her little act of defiance doesn’t surprise me. She hates being ordered around.
I want to lash out and say a million things that I know will get under her skin and piss her off even further, but I quickly think back to what Jack said. I have to stop fighting with this woman and get on her good side so she’ll cooperate with not only the divorce process, but also with the other little plan that I have in mind.
I take a deep breath and push myself to be more pleasant with her. “Would you please have a seat, Margo?”
She arches one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows, clearly questioning my sudden manners. She stares me down a moment longer but then takes the seat across from me. Margo crosses those long, sexy legs of hers, and my eyes instantly dart down to them. She’s wearing another one of those goddamn skirts that does nothing but accentuate every curve beneath it. A couple of buttons on her blue blouse are undone, the valley between her tits on display.
I pull at the collar of my shirt and do attempt to stop thinking about how fucking sexy she is both in and out of her clothes. “I have a proposition for you.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “This had better not be another request to be your fuck buddy. The last time you propositioned me for that, I distinctly remember smacking your face.”
My tongue dances behind my teeth, ready to remind her just how much she enjoyed having my cock buried inside her—how she begged for it. But I know doing that right now won’t help my case.
“Look, Margo, you’re an intelligent woman, so there’s no need for me to beat around the bush. I need something from you.”
This catches her interest, and both of her eyebrows shoot up. “And I suppose you believe I’ll just give over whatever it is you need from me.”
I lock my gaze with hers. “Yes.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but I quickly cut her off.
“The answer is yes because I’m willing to make you a very generous offer.”
She folds her arms over her chest. “What exactly is it that you want?”
“Your cooperation,” I tell her honestly.
She smirks. “You want to divorce me so soon?”
“This isn’t a joke, Margo. Our little moment of drunken indiscretion could put me in some deep shit.”
“And this is my problem because . . . ?”
Her flippant attitude is really getting under my skin. “If you want to save your father’s company, then it should matter to you if I’m no longer the one making final business decisions when it comes to the King Corporation.”
She rolls those magnetic, blue eyes of hers. “You’re really reaching, Alexander.”
I pound my fist on my desk, causing her to jump and release a tiny gasp. “It’s true, dammit.”
Her eyes search my face as she chews on that plump bottom lip of hers, and then she asks softly, “How is that possible? I thought your father left you this company?”
“He did, but there is a catch. A clause written in his will states the board has the power to overthrow my position as president if it is deemed that I was making reckless decisions in either my professional or private life,” I explain.
Her eyebrows draw in and there’s a flash of pity in her eyes. “Why would he do that?”
“Because I was only nineteen years old when he was diagnosed with cancer and that’s not exactly a mature age for a guy to run a Fortune 500 company without some protective measures in place.” I shrug. “I understand why he did it. Hell, I would do the same thing in order to protect the family empire and make sure it remained profitable. He was looking out for my sister, Diem, and me.”
Margo’s lips twist. “But you’re thirty years old now. Does that clause not have an expiration date?”
I nod. “It ends when I’m thirty-two. Father figured since that was the age he settled down, got married, and began building his empire that I should have my head on straight by then.” I lean in and set my elbows on my desk. “That’s why I need your cooperation. I need to convince the board that our marriage wasn’t some random drunken act so they don’t question my ability to run this company. I’ve worked my ass off since my father’s death to prove not only to the board, but also to myself, that I’m fit to fill Father’s shoes. I would want him to be proud of how well I’ve handled everything.”
Silence settles in the office. I’ve never really admitted to anyone why I’m so driven, but it feels good to say it out loud. I just hope that Margo understands why this means so much to me and agrees to help me out.
Finally, after she’s had time to process everything I’ve just told her, she launches into question mode. “So you’re saying that you want to stay married and that you want me to play along and make the world believe that we’re madly in love?”
“That’s exactly what I’m asking.”
Margo nods. “What’s in it for me?”
I flinch. “I thought I was pretty clear about how me staying in power benefits you.”
She shakes her head. “All you said was that if I wanted to save my father’s business, then I would need to help you. I’m just sitting here asking myself why I would want to do that. I know your main objective is to buy out my father’s entire company and then break it into pieces to sell off like it’s some worn-out toy at a flea market.”
I sigh, hating that what I’m about to propose goes against everything in me. “If you help me, then I promise that in return, I will not break apart your father’s company and sell it off in sections as I originally planned. Instead, King Corporation will become a financial partner with Buchanan Industries. And as a bonus, I’ll make sure Yamada Enterprises strikes up a deal with your father’s company directly.”
A wicked smile lights up Margo’s face as she stands up and sticks her hand out to me. “You’ve got yourself a deal, baby.”
Internally, I cringe, but I know I have to look at the bigger picture in this situation. Losing this deal with Buchanan Industries is going to hurt like a motherfucker, but losing control of my company will hurt a lot fucking worse.
I stand and then walk around the desk in order to take her hand in mine. Immediately, the warmth of her touch causes my heart to pound a little harder in my chest as my body craves to get my hands on more of her soft skin.
I lick my lips as my eyes flit down to her mouth. “I’ll expect you to be at my house, suitcase in hand, by seven sharp.”
“Excuse me?” Margo instantly attempts to pull away from my grasp, but I don’t let her go. “You didn’t say a thing about me living with you.”
I cock my right eyebrow as I stare down at her. “Married couples generally live together.”
“Yes, but typically those people like each other,” she growls as she pulls again to break free of me.
A smirk crosses my face. “Are you saying that you don’t like me?”
“I despise you,” she hisses.
Whenever Margo gets into bitch mode, it triggers something in me that’s so insanely attracted to her that I can barely contain myself. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I have her by the nape of the neck and am crushing my lips to hers.
At first her eyes widen, but she doesn’t fight me a bit. As a matter of fact, it seems to turn her on. Because the next thing I know, her hands are in my hair and our bodies are pressed so close I can feel the curve of her tits against my chest.
I spin Margo around and push her ass against my desk. A loud crash echoes through the room as I shove all the paperwork from my desk to the floor.
I grip her hips as she shoves my jacket off my shoulders. “I’ve thought about fucking you on this desk since the first time I saw you.” She moans into my mouth as I slide my hand between her thighs until my fingers trace the silky material of her panties. “I’ve missed the taste of this sweet pussy on my tongue. Just think about how fun this is going to be when we get to my apartment tonight.”
I’m unable to resist the urge to touch her. She tosses her head back, and I seize the opportunity to nip at her earlobe and inhale her sweet perfume. My cock jerks inside my slacks, and I want nothing more than to take her right here. Right now.
I shove the silk material of her panties out of the way and slide my index finger against her swollen clit. “Always so wet, Margo. I love that about you.”
With my free hand, I hitch her leg around my waist so I can spread her wide and work her into a frenzy.
“Oh, that’s it,” she moans as I continue my assault on her pussy. “Alexander . . .”
The way she says my name—all breathy while she’s on the verge of orgasm—nearly makes me come in my pants. This woman has no idea how much she turns me on.
“Come for me, Margo,” I order, needing to watch her as she lets go.
She lets out a cry that I’m sure the rest of the office would hear had she not buried her face into the crook of my neck. Her entire body shakes against me as I flick her click and she comes hard.
The heat of her breath warms the skin on my neck. Desperately needing my own release, I pull back and stare into her eyes. “Now, it’s time for you to get on your knees for me.”
As the words leave my mouth, a sharp pain slices through my bottom lip as Margo bites me just a little too hard. She shoves me away from her and then smacks me square in the face.
I rub my cheek, completely confused. “What the fuck was that for?”
Margo’s nostrils flare as she draws back to smack me again. This time, I catch her by the wrist before she can make contact with my face. “Stop it! Jesus!”
She yanks her arm out of my grasp and straightens her skirt. “I don’t like to be used. I thought I made it perfectly clear when we were in Vegas that I’m not going to be one of your hired hookers. If you think the deal we just made changes that, then you’re sorely mistaken. Married or not, I am not some little slut for you to use whenever you feel like it.”
She doesn’t give me a chance to say another word. She turns on her heel and storms out of my door, slamming it so hard in the process that one of the pictures falls off the wall.
I stand there with my mouth agape like a fucking idiot. For once in my life, I’m at a fucking loss for words. The thought of using her in that manner never crossed my mind, but now that she’s put it out there, having Margo Buchanan around as my live-in sex slave doesn’t sound so bad.
