“Where were you? You’re fifteen minutes late,” Elena asked, following Devon inside his office. “Imani is not amused.”
He dropped his messenger bag to the side, and flicked on his computer screen. He was about to sit, then peered at Elena. She held the iPad against her chest. Right. The meeting.
Imani had emailed him and Matthew to request a meeting in the morning, and he supposed he was late for that.
“Bad traffic,” he said, unable to open his mouth and tell the woman he almost screwed the previous night that he had stared at the fucking elevator for too long. And once again, had exited the suffocating box before the doors closed and forced him to ride it to his floor.
Just like the time he’d spent with her. Close. But not quite all the way. His libido stirred, and he quietly cursed his hard-on. Elena had on a
white dress, ruffled at the top, and one of those short black jackets almost to ensure her business casual vibe. Words flew out of her mouth, but he tuned them out as the moans he had heard the night before still rang in his ears. Erotic and soft.
“Do you think they have news about, you know?” She cocked her head to one side, and he realized she had to be talking about the company theft.
“Maybe. Be right back.”
She gave him an unsure smile. “Okay.”
He started to stride away, then a strange force compelled him to look over his shoulder, only to find her watching him. Clumsily, she looked away, and he headed to the conference room with a stupid ass smile on his damn face.
Kissing her hadn’t been a wise decision. How could he have resisted her though? Her candid if surrealist vision of love and commitment had ignited something within him that was powerful and warm. An unstoppable need to kiss her. Taste her—and that he didn’t regret one bit.
He closed the door behind him, and turned to find Imani and Matthew already seated. His stepmother continued reading some reports, and lowered her glasses when he sat across from them to give him an inquiring look.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, expecting Matthew’s retort. Yet, his half-brother shook his head, leaned back in his chair, and sighed like he’d been worried about something else altogether.
“It’s okay. I know the email was last minute.” Imani passed a manila folder to Devon. “Toby said whoever is stealing hasn’t stopped. The discrepancies continue. They are just creating other fake accounts.”
“They are either very dumb, or have no idea we’re onto them,” Matthew added his two cents.
“I don’t think this is an inside job. It’s made to look like it’s from someone who works here, but while we waste time going through employees’ files for evidence, the real criminal is laughing,” Devon said.
“Interesting.” Imani said. “Say Devon, you have any news from your father?”
“No.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Be honest.”
“He never contacted me after he fled. Why?” Devon asked. “Is there a way he could be doing this from thousands of miles away?”
“He’s already stolen from the company.” Imani lifted her hand to her forehead, and started to massage her temple with her thumb. “He knew the system. Maybe if he planted someone here, it wouldn’t be a stretch to do it again,” Imani continued.
The image of Elena flashed in his mind. No. No, no, no. No way could she be the plant. She had told him what she was up to—even though she was economical on details. On the other hand, what if she was pretending to help him to draw his attention away from her and remain one step ahead?
Damn it. It was time he was one step ahead.
“Finding Caleb will be impossible. If he sets foot back in the US, he’ll be arrested,” Matthew said.
“People tend to slip up. I’ll have the surveillance team check incoming foreign numbers and emails,” Devon said.
“Good.” Imani smiled at him. “Just in case, I’ll tell Toby about your concerns and see if we can do something about it. Most importantly though—not a single word can leak to the media. There’s a chance that in a few months when I step down, the company will be vulnerable. I don’t want to devalue our stocks.”
Tension crackled in the room. Devon touched his collar, and was about to loosen it, when reality pinched him. Don’t show defeat. You still have a shot at this.
“Fine by me,” Matthew said.
Devon shrugged. “Same here.” The last thing he wanted was unwanted attention. He’d had enough of that after his break-up with Regina.
“How was it?” Elena asked when he returned to the office. “Good,” he said, and closed the door behind her even though the intrusive glass walls kept him from showing any suspicious emotion. Maybe the desire for her was clouding his judgment. Having his fill of her until he got over that inconvenient attraction would help him see things clearer.
She fiddled with a long elegant necklace, the gold color sparkling against her subdued teal dress. “Any new info?”
He flicked his screen and checked his email account. He had called the surveillance guy again, to demand an email with the footage of Toby’s birthday party.
“Nah. Just the same BS. Toby is looking into it. Have you heard from Matthew?”
She sat across from him, and he wished his eyes didn’t follow the way her legs crossed. The well-cut, starkly elegant outfit she had on was a wild contrast to the mischievous glint flashing in her eyes. “He texted me earlier to ask about your mystery woman.”
“What did you say?”
She worried her bottom lip. “That you’re having dinner with her tonight.”
He checked his email. His pulse quickened. Phil had come through. “You did not.”
“I did not. But are you?” “Why would I?”
She cleared her throat. “Well, last night you said we weren’t done. That I had changed your mind.”
“I did. But things can’t escalate that quickly. Not after what you’ve been through with your ex,” he said, like he was some kind of sex expert. He opened Phil’s email and noted the video attachment. One step closer to figuring out the crook’s identity.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“You are not ready,” he said, his finger circling the mouse instead of clicking it straight away. Shifting in his seat, he watched her.
A few loose strands escaped her low ponytail, and she had on a tad more makeup than usual. A maroon shade enhanced her sexy bedroom eyes. His body reverberated. Damn it. He was ready—too ready.
“How can you know? It’s not your vagina.” She raised her hand in disagreement, and also to probably tell him to shut up. “Besides, I did therapy for three years. I have no more nightmares. I feel good about myself. I’m ready for the new chapter of my life, and this is the last obstacle I need to overcome to get there.”
“I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You can never hurt me. We’re not an item in the romantic sense.” He popped his knuckles. “I mean physically.”
“You mean your gigantic penis will send me to the ER? Isn’t that a tad exaggerated?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not used to sex the way you want it. Tender. Slow.” And damn if, he was scared too. Not that he was about to broadcast it, and give her more leverage over him than what she already had. He liked to fuck hard, fast, and honest. Sex was two sweaty bodies smacking against each other with one simple goal: release.
The woman in front of him offered a lot more. She was opening the door to a world he had avoided for too long. Regina had been safe—even though she ended up screwing him over. During their time together, he never had to worry about stepping out of his comfort zone. He was too damn old and too damn cynical to change his views on relationships or sex. Especially because of corporate spy Elena Moretti. She had been broken, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t turn on him.
Besides, he knew that about broken people—they could survive. And that made them invincible. The question was…did she know that too?
“Then we’ll have to learn together.” “I’ll be at your place around eight.”
She smiled, and a part of him couldn’t help but smile back.