Conflict of Interest Page 17

  Not that any of that mattered now. Not that she’d recognized it before it was too late. Still, she could do one more thing. She could at least take responsibility for her part in what had happened. If nothing else, she could stop pretending he was the only guilty party.

  She wouldn’t even deserve the memories if she couldn’t admit that. Before the thoughts finished forming, she was dialing.

  “Hey.” Greta’s abrupt voice greeted her. “What’s up?”

  “This thing, this suspension.” Kenzie dove right in. It was the best way to get it out, and Greta would appreciate the direct approach. “It’s my fault.”

  “Really?”

  Kenzie didn’t know how to interpret the question, so she just kept talking. “I mean, obviously, it takes two people, right? But I had been involved with the client before they signed me, and I should have said no then, or handed responsibility over to someone else at so many other points along the way. I’m sorry.”

  “Hmm.”

  That wasn’t good. Kenzie waited, toe tapping faster with each second of silence that stretched between them.

  “You’re sure,” Greta finally said.

  What was Kenzie missing? “Positive.”

  “Here’s the thing.” Greta’s voice softened. “Your ‘it takes two’ was in here a couple of days ago, telling me personally that this was all his fault. That he sabotaged everything and set you up to fail.”

  Her heart stopped, and then kick started again, hammering against her ribs as she tried to make sense of it. “He said that?”

  Greta laughed. “He also quoted contract at me when he told me he wouldn’t allow any disputes to go beyond arbitration. And asked if you could have your job back. He’s a force to be reckoned with, isn’t he?”

  She felt a smile forming for the first time in days, but it was subdued by the reality that it didn’t matter what he’d done or why, she’d still never see him again. “He is.”

  “So here’s the deal,” Greta said. “I can consider this conversation off the record. We can say it never happened if you’d like to agree to his version of events.”

  That would be convenient. Solve a lot of issues. Except the big outstanding one. Kenzie shook her head at the empty car. “I can’t do that. I’m as much to blame as anyone. All I can say is it won’t happen again.” Because just then she couldn’t imagine ever getting over Scott.

  “I understand.” Greta sounded sad. “I don’t know if I can do anything for you if that’s the case, but your record still speaks in your favor. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”

  “Thanks.” Kenzie disconnected and tossed her phone back in her purse. She still ached deep inside, and she hated the empty pit, but at least she’d finally stopped hiding things from everyone, including herself.

  Chapter 20

  Kenzie turned the folded clothes over in her hands, focused on the fabric of the T-shirt against her palms, the rough fleece of the battered sweats, the scent of detergent that wasn’t hers and sent waves of need and regret through her.

  She should probably give Scott his clothes back. She’d been in such a hurry to get out of them, so furious and hurt the morning he’d loaned them to her, that she’d set them aside in a little stack on the back corner of her desk, pretending they didn’t exist.

  She should wash them first. That would be the polite thing to do. But if she was washing them anyway, he wouldn’t care if … no, she shouldn’t. Screw it. It was as close as she was going to get to him ever again. She pulled the shirt over her head, inhaling deeply.

  She tugged the sweats on next, having to pull the drawstring tight and roll the waistband down to let it rest comfortably on her hips.

  She flopped back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, hugging herself. Her phone was in her hands before she knew why. Her fingers hesitated, the phone shaking along with her nerves. She had to do it. She missed him too much. She forced herself to type out the message.

  I’m sorry.

  No response. Of course, she didn’t know what he was up to. He may not be somewhere he could answer. Or, more likely, he just wasn’t going to. When her phone buzzed, she almost jumped straight up. She fumbled for the device, heart hammering, and pulled up the message.

  Yeah. Me too.

  Then nothing else. She should have expected that. It still hurt though. She really had destroyed her chances, hadn’t she? Finally, a guy she got along with, who listened, who showed her the world from a perspective she’d never see it from on her own, and who had the most brilliant way with sexy words. Damn it.

  She pulled her knees to her chest and rolled onto her side. Tears pricked her eyelids. This was it; she had ruined it. She had met the perfect guy, and instead of recognizing it, she’d drilled it into him over and over again that she was embarrassed by his very existence. No wonder he hated her.

  She didn’t know how long she stared blankly at the wall, listening to cars outside, the horns, the sounds of afternoon traffic, kids running through the halls, things that didn’t matter anymore.

  A knock echoed through the room, startling her from her reverie. She wiped an arm across her eyes, not doing anything but making them rawer, and shuffled out of her bedroom toward the front door. She swung it open without bothering to check the peep hole. Why should she bother?

  Her eyes grew wide when she saw Scott. He stood in front of her in the most expensive suit she’d ever seen, tailored to fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist, ivory cuff links peeking out past the end of the jacket sleeves.

  “Oh, my gawd. You look amazing.” The compliment slipped out before she could stop it.

  His crooked smile spread across his face, and he grasped her fingers between his. He kissed the back of her hand. “Thank you, Miss Carter. You look stunning too. You wear that far better than I ever did.”

  Heat crept across her cheeks, and she ducked her head. She looked horrible. Face blotchy without makeup, hair in a ponytail. He didn’t mean it.

  He wrapped an arm around her waist, resting his hand at the small of her back, and pulled her closer. He kissed her softly, lips undemanding, but hungry. He broke away, resting his forehead against hers. “You really, really do look incredible. The best thing I’ve ever seen. Do you have a minute?”

  She hesitated. What was he up to?

  Before she could think of a response, he’d grabbed her purse and keys off the table by the door and kicked her sandals in her direction. He slipped his hand around hers and tugged. “I have a surprise for you.”

  A shock of want raced through her, and she bit it back. She wasn’t able to suppress the hope so easily. She allowed herself to be led down to the street toward a silver Porsche convertible. “This isn’t your car.”

  He held the door open, waiting patiently. “I borrowed it from a friend. It’s a little classier than the love van. He was always better at that than me.”

  The faint scent of cigarette smoke mingled with flowers from a hidden air freshener. Zach’s car. Too many questions assaulted her, and she didn’t know which to ask first.

  He pulled into traffic, demeanor still friendly but aloof. His fingers brushed her leg through her sweats, lingering for a moment before he pulled away again.

  He glanced at her, a hint of worry finally leaking into his deep eyes. “Say something?”

  She should do that. But she didn’t even know where to start. “Why didn’t you tell me about your past?” That wasn’t where she wanted to start. She wanted to apologize. To tell him they could make it work. Instead, the accusation was out there with no way to take it back.

  He cringed. “It’s not the kind of thing I like to dwell on. Even though I came from money, I wasn’t coddled as a child, and I earned everything I have now. So to me, it’s inconsequential.”

  She couldn’t help the soft smile that slipped out. “That makes an amazing amount of sense. But you already knew everything I tried to tell you. Why did you let me put you through that?”

  He took a deep
breath and pulled the car into a nearby parking spot. His voice was soft, and he never looked at her. “You’ll hate me if I tell you.”

  The quake in his voice filled her with concern and regret. She kept her tone reassuring. “I really doubt that.”

  He continued, gaze locked straight ahead. “I hired you specifically because I needed to look like I was complying with my board, and I really didn’t want to. I thought I could distract you, screw around a little, and not actually have to follow anyone’s rules but my own.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t even know if she could speak. There had been times she’d expected as much, but it still hurt to hear it.

  He glanced at her, but didn’t turn his head. “And then I was so very wrong. You’re amazing at what you do, despite how stubborn I am, and I still can’t believe you put up with me from day one. And you were right. I do need to watch myself sometimes. You’ve reminded me that even though I do this for the freedom of building my dream and sharing it, sometimes I have to compromise.

  “But even if I play nice, I don’t play fake to impress people.” He finally turned in his seat, facing her, brown eyes raking over her face. “Did you mean what you said in Zach’s office?”

  “Yes.” The answer thrummed in her chest. Every word of it. “No one should force you into a mold. It would break you. It would destroy something amazing.” Her voice caught on the last few words.

  He rested a finger under her chin, drawing her face closer. His mouth hovered less than an inch from hers, his voice barely audible. “That would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

  Her breath hitched. He dropped his hand and backed away. Disappointment flooded her.

  He was out of the car and standing next to her, door open and hand out, before she could decide if she was irritated or just hurt.

  She accepted the offer of help, focusing on how his palm rested firmly against hers. She stepped next to him on the sidewalk and realized they were in front of his building.

  “Come on.” He tugged her toward the lobby, nodding at the doorman as he guided her toward the elevator.

  “Where are we going?” The ups and downs, the pendulum of emotions, the jittery nature of the conversation, they all made her head spin. She’d missed that about being around him.

  He intertwined his fingers with hers, not looking at her. “Presumably, my condo.”

  The car slid to a stop, and the doors opened. Her stomach couldn’t take much more of this. “That’s not an answer.”

  He stepped into the hallway, trying to tug her after him. “You’ll see.”

  She planted her feet. “Tell me now.”

  He pulled. “At least let the elevator go so someone else can use it.”

  She twisted her mouth in irritation, but stepped into the hallway, doors sliding shut behind her. “I’m waiting.”

  His mask crumbled, and worry, uncertainty, and something else she couldn’t read flooded his face. He pulled her closer, fingers still intertwined with hers, his other hand resting on her neck, thumb against her cheek. His quiet voice echoed in the empty hallway. “I’m not keeping quiet to frustrate you, I promise. I want you to know everything about me because I want to know everything about you. I want you in my life. No, that’s not right. I need you. Desperately and completely. I crave your company and your touch.” He dropped his hand, grazing the violet that hung around her neck. “And all of you.”

  Her chest throbbed, and she thought it might burst. She could only manage two words in response. “Me too.”

  He brushed his lips over hers and pulled away, apprehension and hope on his face. “Yeah?”

  She laughed and nodded. It still felt amazing around him. Even more so now. “Yeah.”

  He dipped in for another kiss, and she rested a finger on his lips. “But,” she said. Hurt radiated in his eyes. Gawd those eyes. She could get lost in them. “You still haven’t told me what you’re up to.”

  “Oh.” He grinned and tugged her ponytail, yanking her head back. He raked his teeth up her throat, stopping at her ear with a nibble. His breath was warm against her skin when he whispered, “Dinner.”

  She wanted to sink into the gesture. She could spend forever wrapped in his arms. But she also couldn’t let him get away with such a vague answer. “Dinner in an empty hallway?”

  “Dinner at my place.” He tugged her toward the door.

  She followed without protesting, curiosity piqued. Besides, she was enjoying his hand on hers and watching the enthusiasm that drove him, so she didn’t want to pull away.

  She gasped at the sight that met her when they pushed inside. Against the back balcony sat a table for two, complete with unlit candles, with the twinkling city lights in the twilight of the entire city as the background. “It’s beautiful.”

  He kicked the door shut, and it latched behind them. “You definitely are.”

  She turned and realized he was watching her, not the scenery. She ducked her head, hoping to hide the heat rushing through her face.

  He tilted her head up again, finger under her chin, and pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss was firm, hungry.

  She gasped and her lips parted. His tongue darted between her teeth, intertwining with hers. His hand rested at the small of her back, holding her close. He broke away, but didn’t let her go, eyes dark and holding her captive.

  She pressed closer. “So you rich boys really do get room service?”

  He tightened his grip on her waist. “I thought I’d cook for you.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You cook?”

  “You learn to make do when the only thing you can afford is flour, water, and ramen. Nothing impressive. Just pizza.”

  “Candlelit dinner with homemade pizza. Only you.” She loved the idea. But the air smelled distinctly unlike baking food. “You haven’t cooked it yet.”

  He grazed his teeth over her shoulder. “It’s in the fridge. I didn’t know if you’d actually come with me.”

  He was just as uncertain about the entire thing as she was. She intertwined her fingers behind his head and rested her hands against the back of his neck. Her pulse screamed, need pouring through her and reflecting his expression. “So, dinner can wait?”

  His voice was deep, desperate. “What did you have in mind?”

  She trailed a finger up his chest and brushed it across his lips before following with her own. “Guess.”

  He dipped quickly, his other arm wrapping around her knees and lifting her off her feet. She gasped as her world shifted and tightened her grip around his neck, resting her head on his chest.

  With just a few steps, he crossed the room, pushed into his bedroom, and set her gently on the bed.

  She lay back, propped up on her elbows. “What would you have done if I said no?”

  He hovered over her, one hand on either side of her head, legs straddling hers. “I hadn’t thought that far. It hurt too much.” He dipped his head, lips grazing her neck. “But you still have a chance to back out.” His words vibrated against her skin.

  She arched her back, sighing at his touch. “I’m good here, thanks.”

  Chapter 21

  He rolled to one side, mouth still exploring her neck and throat, and his free hand dropped to her waist. He pushed her shirt aside enough to rest his fingers on her bare hip. “I’m not sure I remember how to do this.”

  She snickered. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

  His hand glided up her side, thumb on her stomach and then brushing the bottom of her breast.

  She whimpered and arched her back.

  “You know.” His breath was warm against her skin. “Private place, both of us in the same bed, no timers or threat of interruption.”

  She pulled his face to hers and kissed him deeply, gasping when they broke apart. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’re creative and resourceful.”

  He trailed his mouth down her throat again and then pushed her shirt up, lips soft against her stomach. He followed a t
rail back up her bare chest, feather light kisses drawing a random pattern.

  She let out a tiny sigh, the almost ticklish sensation making her lightheaded.

  He kissed the bottom of one breast and then the other, moving back and forth until he reached a nipple. She inhaled sharply when his tongue flicked over one nub before taking it into his mouth.

  He sucked and nibbled, and she squirmed closer, currents of enjoyment rippling through her like that single spot was attached to a string connected to every other erogenous zone on her body.

  He sought out the other one with his hand, kneading the fleshy mound, the pad of his thumb brushing the swollen flesh.

  She gasped under the attention but wanted more. Nudging his shoulder, she pushed him onto his back and then rolled so she was straddling him. His eyes raked over her appreciatively, smile widening when she pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside.

  His hands glided up her sides, cupping her breasts again, pinching and pulling her nipples.

  She whimpered and ground against him, his excitement pressing back through slacks and sweats. Sliding down his body, she undid each button on her way, pushing his shirt aside as her mouth explored his chest, his stomach, until she reached his waist.

  He groaned when her fingers slid under his waistband. She raked her palms over his skin as she yanked off his pants and boxers, exploring every inch of his upper thighs except the eight or so begging for her attention.

  His breathing grew more jagged, catching every time she drew closer. She stepped off the bed long enough to drop the rest of her clothes to the floor.

  He propped himself up, eyes raking over her in appreciation. “You’re so beautiful.”

  The compliment warmed her as much as his gaze did, heat flooding every inch of her.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, tugging her to rest between his legs, but leaving her standing. He threw his shirt aside, and then his hands found her ass. He pulled her closer, lips pressing into her stomach, her hips, back up to her breasts. His fingers moved lower, parting her lips, drawing a moan as they glided along her already slippery slit.