Private Sessions
Private Sessions
Tori Carrington
About the Author
Multi-award-winning, bestselling authors Lori Schlachter Karayianni and Tony Karayianni are the power behind the pen name Tori Carrington. Their over forty-five titles include numerous Blaze® mini-series, as well as the ongoing Sofie Metropolis comedic mystery series with another publisher. Visit www.toricarrington.net and www.sofiemetro.com for more information on the duo and their titles.
Private Sessions
Tori Carrington
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
There’s just something about a strong, bad-boy hero who can rock a business suit, isn’t there? He may try to conceal his true character, but once you get this guy between the sheets … oh, my!
Private Sessions is the first in our three-book PRIVATE SCANDALS series and focuses on hot businessman Caleb Payne, who embodies all of what bad boys are made of. He knows exactly what it takes to get what he wants; especially when it comes to sexy Bryna Metaxas, who not only provides an opportunity to glean a bit of enjoyment out of the disaster that is Caleb’s current business life, but to wreak a bit of revenge. But there are some sins that are unforgivable. Has he finally gone too far?
We hope you enjoy every sizzling, heart-stopping moment of Caleb and Bryna’s journey toward happily-ever-after. We’d love to hear what you think. Contact us at PO Box 12271, Toledo, OH 43612, USA (we’ll respond with a signed bookplate, newsletter and bookmark), or visit us on the web at www.toricarrington.net.
Here’s wishing you love, romance and HOT reading,
Lori & Tony Karayianni aka Tori Carrington
We dedicate this book to bad-boy-loving women
everywhere …
And to Julie Chivers and editor extraordinaire
Brenda Chin: you guys rock!
Table of Contents
Cover (#ua66fc670-cb3b-53e0-91e3-bbbdf9900d06)
About the Author (#u9030b9d1-034a-5230-9f3a-d597282a305a)
Title Page (#u7ea4379f-be96-58fb-a1b4-cf1e4eb7b227)
Dedication (#u783c4c2e-84a7-5b4a-ad5e-8c13654510ef)
Prologue (#uea10bd6e-85b3-5057-b67f-9b071d9165ab)
Chapter One (#u399be491-1247-599a-9438-54526e8d62ae)
Chapter Two (#ucfa805c9-8eaf-5a52-983c-1f2ba8f9b452)
Chapter Three (#u1bf6d0fe-42c2-5856-81fb-b19018e193d7)
Chapter Four (#ue07cb1bd-3c6d-5a9a-8031-1721fbf05c4c)
Chapter Five (#ucbc9e449-9b4c-5f90-8a87-ae41febd4513)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
“GREAT SEX IS NOT ENOUGH for me, Caleb. Not anymore.”
Damn. There it was …
Caleb Payne stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse apartment, his attention not on the reflection of the beautiful woman who had uttered the words, but on the sight beyond the glass. Seattle’s skyline twinkled against the inky late-night backdrop. His fingers tightened around the crystal tumbler that held an inch of the best whiskey the civilized world had to offer. He downed the smooth liquid in one swallow and then slowly dragged the back of his hand against his mouth, finally considering Cissy’s image in the window.
How was it possible such an attractive woman suddenly emerged unappealing? Despite the low-cut, curve-hugging long red dress she wore, her white-blond hair floating around her smooth shoulders, he wanted to look everywhere but at her.
His gaze fell to her full breasts. Correction: he wanted to look everywhere but into her pleading, hopeful face.
She instinctively crossed her arms, impeding his view.
“Sex is all I have to give you.” Caleb slowly turned, considering her reaction from beneath his brows. “I told you that from the beginning.”
He’d seen this coming since earlier that evening, when his limo had stopped at her downtown apartment to pick her up for the charity ball they’d attended.
Actually, if he were honest, he’d seen this coming since the day they’d first met.
It gave him no pleasure to know that he’d been spot-on when it came to the timeline he’d imagined when he’d met the pretty socialite six months ago. Around about month three, she’d started talking exclusivity. Which hadn’t been a problem, considering it was in his cautious nature to stick to one sexual partner at a time. Month four brought talk of combining households, a conversation he’d artfully avoided.
And tonight, a week before the end of month six, she had launched her plan for even more.
“I’ve never lied to you, Cissy,” he told her now. “You knew the score from the beginning.”
“But things change. People change.”
He shook his head. “Not me. Never me.”
Pain crumpled her face, an emotion that left him unmoved.
He wondered if she’d say the words countless others had said before her and call him a heartless bastard.
If she did, she’d be right. He’d been raised by a single mother, never knowing his father although the man had always been nearby, present without being a presence. While Caleb had never wanted for anything materially … well, one therapist he’d dated had suggested he’d been stunted emotionally by his upbringing.
He’d been a bastard child within a socio-economic class that still frowned heavily on such things. And his peers had never let him forget it.
That’s where the heartless part entered in.
Oh, Cissy might want more now, but in a week, maybe two, she’d be thankful she hadn’t been successful in her efforts. Out there somewhere was a man who would improve her standing; not detract from it.
He walked to the bar and poured another finger into his glass, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Is marriage anywhere in the cards for us?” Cissy asked quietly.
He inwardly winced.
Once, just once, he’d like to be proven wrong. He’d like to date a woman who was unpredictable. Someone who would surprise him. Someone who’d enjoy whatever moments they could spend together without planning, scheming, plotting for something more.
Someone who wouldn’t want something he was incapable of giving.
He shook his head. “No.”
He heard her moving around. Imagined her picking up her wrap. Checking inside her purse. Perhaps getting a tissue with which to wipe her nose. Then stalking toward the front door.
“Well, then, I guess this is goodbye.” Her voice was half accusatory, half hopeful.
He nodded again without turning. “Goodbye, Cissy.”
Silence. Long moments later the door closed behind her. Caleb downed the whiskey, tapping his fingers against the expensive crystal. Shame. He’d liked Cissy. She’d been nice to have around. Nice to have in his bed.
He sighed and then headed for his home office and the only thing that never asked him for anything more, that never complained or questioned or demanded, or failed to hold his fascination: work.
1
THE MORE THINGS CHANGED, the more they stayed the same.
Bryna Metaxas weighed the old axiom, feeling exasperated by her job, by the current stagnancy of her love life—or, rather, the lack of one at all—and frustrated by everything in general.
She sat in her small office at the old lumber mill where Metaxas Limited was located in Earnest, Washington, blind to the view of the lush, pine-covered hills visible through the window behind her. She was too busy trying not to think about the weekly Tuesday meeting she’d attended that morning where she’d been marginalized yet again. She couldn’t help wondering why her older cousin Troy included her if he wasn’t going to have her do anything more substantial than take notes and follow up on minor details. She was half-surprised that he hadn’t asked her to serve coffee to the dozen attendees while they brainstormed ideas on where to go now that the deal they’d been working on with Greek billionaire Manolis Philippidis had fallen through.
Fallen through. Now, that was a print-ready description for what had happened. Disaster would be more fitting.
Bryna drew in a deep breath. How long had she been working at the company? Nearly two years. And while every six months she was given a positive review and her salary was increased incrementally, she was doing basically the same mundane tasks she had done since the day she hired on.
At any other company she would have quit long ago. But this was a family operation … and she was part of the family.
Besides, as a resident of Earnest, she had a vested interest in seeing the plan succeed for the good of the community. Hell, she’d minored in green energy at university and had a better working knowledge of the emerging technology than either of her cousins.
Bryna sighed and pushed her straight black hair back from her face. On her desk sat three different versions of a proposal—variants on the original she’d put together months ago, but had never seen the top of her cousin’s in-box. A proposal she’d thought stood a chance when the Philippidis debacle happened. But, no. If anything, Troy was even less interested in looking at her ideas. No matter how many bricks walls he continually ran into.
Ultimately, she’d decided she’d have to fly solo.
It was just after eleven and she’d been at the old family mill offices since six, moths fluttering their wings against the walls of her stomach at the thought of going this alone. If some of that wild flapping was also associated with the very attractive person she’d decided to approach first … well, she wasn’t admitting to it, beyond allowing that it had been a while since she’d enjoyed male attention … and this particular hot, single male not only appeared skilled in that specific area, he was renowned for it.
At any rate, if her plan worked the way she hoped, she’d be a major player in the business rather than the second fiddle to which she’d been relegated.
Of course, if her cousins Troy and his younger brother Ari found out what she was up to, they’d probably fire her sorry butt on the spot, family ties be damned.
She heard Troy’s voice in the hall outside her door. Bryna quickly put another file on top of the proposals and picked up a pen, pretending interest in the routine accounting job she’d been given to do the day before.
“Hey, Bry,” Troy said, leaning against the doorjamb the way he always did.
Everything that the gossips said about both of her cousins was true. They were powerful and impossibly good-looking, walking, talking Greek gods, a double whammy to any single female within grinning distance.
Of course, Ari was no longer on the market. And Troy …
“You look like shit,” she said.
And he did. It was the height of summer and he looked pale as a ghost. And tired beyond what any amount of sleep could cure.
The reason for that was closely tied into Ari’s change in bachelor status. A month ago the two brothers had traveled to Greece, not so much for the Philippidis wedding, but to close the deal with the wealthy groom that would put the company on a fast track. And save Earnest, the old mill town that they all called home that had recently chalked up a twenty-five percent unemployment rate, the highest in its hundred-year history.
Needless to say, the deal hadn’t gone through. Not through any fault of Troy’s. Rather, Ari’s infatuation with the bride had resulted in the collapse of not only the deal, but contributed to the downward spiral of what was left of the company itself.
And that broke Bryna’s heart. Metaxas Limited was a true family business. Troy … well, what would he do without the company his grandfather and then father built? He lived, ate and breathed ML. The cash flow reflected his blood flow.
Both Troy and Ari were much more than cousins to her: they were her brothers. She’d been an only child until she was twelve and the Cessna her father had been flying had crashed, killing him and her mother as they’d been returning from a weekend trip to San Francisco. Her father’s brother had generously provided a home for her along with his two sons, his own wife having died long ago.
It hadn’t been easy being the only female in a house full of males. But it had been interesting. She remembered the first time she’d brought a boy home to “study,” when she was fifteen. Troy and Ari had invited Dale Whitman out back for a talk after they’d caught him and Bryna enjoying a first kiss over their chemistry books. When Dale hadn’t returned to the dining room within ten minutes, she went looking for him. And found him trussed up by his ankles, suspended from a branch of the old oak tree out back.
Her cousins had scared him so badly that not only had he not returned, no other boyfriend had dared show up at the Metaxas estate again, the ankle story having taken on a life of its own and grown to mythological proportions that would do the Greeks proud.
And this company was their Mount Olympus.
Which is why Bryna had decided it was long past time she took action to defend and protect the same.
Her cousin chuckled quietly at her comment and rubbed his freshly shaven chin. “Gee, thanks. Exactly what I needed to hear this morning.”
Bryna grimaced. “Just calling ‘em as I see ‘em.”
“Yeah, well, maybe that’s one of the reasons why you haven’t earned that promotion you’ve been angling for.”
“Oh, so unfair. I’m speaking to you cousin to cousin now. Not employer to employee.”
“And the difference in the Land of Bryna?”
She flashed him a bright smile. “I’d be much nicer if we weren’t related.”
She successfully concealed her true reaction to her recent promotion denial. She wanted to be included on an equal level, damn it. Was that too much to ask? Okay, so she was only twenty-four. But she’d graduated summa cum laude from WSU with her master’s in business administration. And she was up to the task.
She’d even told them she didn’t need a hike in salary. Just give her anything that was above junior associate, essentially a glorified office assistant, and she’d be happy.
Troy had told her no. Again. That the company was putting a freeze on all promotions for the time being.
She’d half expected him to ruffle her hair and tell her to go out and play like a good girl.
She needed to convince him that she wasn’t their cute little cousin anymore. Or merely their cute little cousin; she had no intention of giving up her special spot in the family.
Troy said, “If that were true, I’d give you the promotion in a blink.”
She twisted her lips. “I’m never going to live down that Bainwright incident, am I?”
“Bainwright incident? Oh, wait. Yes, now I remember.” He shook his finger at her. “Maybe it’s just me, but dumping the contents of a water pitcher in a supplier’s lap during a meeting is not exactly good work etiquette.”
“Neither is his copping a feel while I was pouring his water.”
“He said it was an honest mistake.”
“An honest mistake would be if he’d removed the hand in question the moment it made contact. Not leave it there and give a couple of squeezes for good measure.”
She remembered the slimy man’s fingers on her breast and gave an involuntary shudder.
Troy sighed heavily. “When you realize that perhaps you could have handled the situation more diplomatically, maybe then we’ll have another talk about that promotion.”
Bryna sat back, prepared to say something along the lines of “So I suppose offering him my other breast for a tweak would have been preferable.”
Instead, her gaze fell on the files on her desk. More specifically, on the proposals that she was scheduled to pitch to none other than Manolis Philippidis’s principal consultant in …
“Oh, my God, is that the time?” Bryna launched herself from her chair.
Troy blinked at her. “What, do you have an appointment?”
“Yes,” she confirmed, pulling on her suit jacket and buttoning the front. “Yes, I do.”
“May I ask with whom?”
She struck a pose. “With the hairdresser in Seattle. Would you like to attend, act as my wingman?”
He chuckled. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“You may want to rethink that. You could probably use a good spray tan.”
She discreetly stuffed the proposals into her briefcase and began to pass him.
“Very funny.”
“See you later, then.”
“Since it’s Tuesday, why don’t you just stay there? Come back on Sunday?”
Her usual schedule was to head to her small apartment in Seattle every Wednesday night, spend two days working from there, then return home to the Metaxas estate Sunday morning for brunch, starting the cycle over again.
“No, I’ll be coming back this afternoon,” she told him.
As Bryna headed toward the old steel stairs and the parking lot beyond the mill doors, she wasn’t sure which bothered her more: that she was nervous as hell, or that Troy hadn’t even thought twice about her leaving in the middle of the morning.
Just went to show you how much her cousin really thought of her and her work ethic.
She smiled to herself. If everything went the way she planned, that would all change soon enough….
2
TO THE VICTOR THE SPOILS….
Caleb knew who Bryna Metaxas was. She was related to the same man indirectly responsible for the collapse of his latest business deal. But given the fact that his position or personal wealth hadn’t been impacted, he was still the victor.
And she was very definitely the spoils. Because he had absolutely no interest in pursuing anything of a business nature with her.
They’d met once. During a meeting at Metaxas Limited. While Manolis Philippidis had droned on about a catch in the contract, Caleb had allowed himself to appreciate Bryna’s remarkable beauty. The type of looker who would be right at home sunning herself on one of Philippidis’s yachts, a white, barely there bikini playing up her physical assets, large sunglasses perched on her petite nose, her long, dark hair combed back while a formally clad waiter served her a dirty martini. He remembered thinking that she could easily challenge any of the goddesses her Greek ancestry boasted on the sexy meter. Why she would ever want to be associated with her loser cousins was an intriguing mystery to him. Especially since whatever ideas she’d proffered were immediately squashed by her cousin Troy, her thoughtful frown as he did so making her all the more appealing.
And she looked even better now, staring up at him with a wide smile.
Although for the record he’d prefer to see her in that barely there bikini rather than in the too-stern navy blue suit she had on.
He openly appreciated the pretty young woman who’d stormed his office after he’d made her wait for half an hour. She was a little on the young side. He was maybe a decade her senior. But if his recent experiences had taught him anything, it was that seeing women closer to his own age came with baggage he was no longer interested in carrying. Biological clocks and measuring sticks were tucked in their designer handbags, always nearby, always dictating their actions.
Bryna was young and had yet to hear the distant ticking. And her handbag of choice appeared to be a briefcase.
The fact that she was a member of the Metaxas family added a certain illicit appeal to her attraction quotient. It had been Ari Metaxas who sank one of his prized deals. Oh, not the business proposal that bit the dust with Philippidis’s marriage plans. But the contract Caleb had been working on for two years with a Dubai company that would have resulted in one of the largest conglomerates currently operating today.
The same contract that Philippidis’s single-minded lust for revenge against Metaxas and his unfaithful bride had mucked up beyond repair.
“Thanks for taking my appointment,” Bryna said, moving her briefcase from one hand to the other and then extending her right.
“No problem.” Was her skin really that soft? Caleb shamelessly held on to the feminine digits, rubbing his thumb slowly along the back.
He watched her pupils grow large in her dark green irises at the unabashed liberty he took. But rather than immediately try to pull away, she held his gaze, allowing the fiery spark that ignited between them to flare, running from her skin over to his. The heat sped downward and settled pleasantly in his groin.
He allowed himself a moment to imagine removing that barely there bikini in his fantasy to leave her fully bare …
Bryna cleared her throat and slowly withdrew her hand, taking the sexy image with her.
“I have three proposals I’d like to submit to you,” she said, sitting in one of the two high-backed visitor’s chairs and putting her case down at her crossed ankles. Slender, shapely ankles that drew his attention. She took documents out of her briefcase and held them out to him.
He made no move to take them. Instead, he permitted his gaze to rake up her calves to where the hem of her skirt had hiked up to just above her pleasing knees.
Bryna placed the proposals on the desk he stood next to.
“I’m sure that once you’ve had a chance to review them, you’ll see that a partnership with Metaxas Limited would be in everyone’s best interest.”
Having her open her knees a little wider would be in his best interest. Would she be wearing plain white panties, he wondered. Black? Red? Or would she surprise him by going commando?
The idea nudged his temperature gauge up more than a few notches.
He lifted his telltale gaze back to her face. “Does Troy know you’re here?”
He’d met both brothers on several occasions, but he’d gotten the distinct impression that the elder was in charge of all business dealings. And a control freak. Much like he, himself, was.
He was intrigued by the way Bryna avoided his gaze.
If he were to guess, he’d say that no one was aware that she was there.
Caleb knew himself well enough to recognize his growing attraction to the young woman sitting in his visitor’s chair. And judging by her reaction when they’d touched, he knew it would be all too easy to draw her into a sexual liaison. A few carefully placed caresses, whispered words, and she’d melt like butter on his toast.
The telecom buzzed.
His secretary. He’d instructed her to interrupt the meeting at minute five.
The problem lay in that he wasn’t all too sure he wanted to end his time with Bryna Metaxas.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“Sure. Go ahead.”
He picked up the phone and listened for a moment, his gaze roving hungrily over Bryna’s soft curves, before hanging up.
“I’m sorry,” he said, going for feigned reluctance and surprised to actually be feeling it. “But there appears to be an overseas call I really must take.”
She twisted lips that were full and lush and made for a man’s kiss. “Of course.” She got up from the chair. “I’m grateful for the time you’ve extended me. Just give my office a call when you’ve had a chance to review the proposals so we can set up another meeting.” She began to turn away, then lifted a finger and swiveled back. Her mouth was slightly open, as if prepared to say something, but his expression—which he was sure revealed his naked interest in her—must have caused her to hesitate.
Her pink tongue darted out and moistened those provocative lips.
“Actually,” she said quietly, then cleared her throat, “I’ll, um, call you.”
Caleb found himself crossing the room to be nearer to her. The musky scent of her perfume filled his senses. He dragged his gaze away from her mouth up to her eyes and then crossed his arms over his chest, as much to keep from touching her as to maintain the distance he wasn’t sure why he suddenly required. “Why did you choose me, Miss Metaxas?”
She was clearly as aware of him as he was of her … and thrown by his close proximity. He watched her elegant throat work around a swallow. “I don’t understand?”
“Why didn’t you go straight to Philippidis himself?”
Her smile was soft, tinged with a bit of wryness. “I thought my chances of putting together something with you were better, considering the circumstances.” She took in the width of his shoulders, his height. “I mean, you’re an independent consultant, right? While you’re associated with Philippidis, you’re not his employee.” She shrugged, the action looking anything but nonchalant. “We can’t sell Philippidis, but perhaps we—you and I—can work together to sell the idea to someone else.”
He liked her confidence … her awareness of herself as a woman. And he admired her poise; obviously she’d put a lot of thought into her approach, even though she knew the chances of him taking her up on her offer were remote.
He picked up the folders, glanced at the top one, then held them out to her.
“While flattered, Miss Metaxas, I’m afraid I’m not interested.”
Inaccurate to the nth degree. The problem lay in that he was very interested in her … only on a much more personal level.
She hesitantly took the proposals, but the look in her eyes told him that she saw him; possibly saw right through him.
Caleb cocked a brow.
“Are you sure there isn’t … something I can do to persuade you differently….” she asked quietly, leadingly.
He’d been playing the man v. woman game for long enough that he understood some had the killer instinct, were born with a natural understanding of basic human need and how to bend it to their advantage, and some didn’t.
Sexy Miss Bryna Metaxas had been born with it. She might not understand exactly how best to use it, but she knew enough to make her very enticing, indeed.
He smiled. “I’m sure.”
He drew closer to her, estimating that he had a good five inches on her and years of experience. While she demonstrated good instinctive skills, she was no match for him in any department.
Why, then, did he want to see just how much of challenge she’d present?
He was a breath away from her. She didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Didn’t indicate one way or another if he intimidated her. To the contrary, she appeared equally as enthralled by the chemistry that existed between them.
“I feel it only fair to tell you that this won’t be the last you hear from me,” she said so quietly it was nearly a whisper.
Caleb’s gaze slid over her face, taking in the hint of heated color and her decadent mouth before returning to her eyes.
“I certainly hope not, Miss Metaxas.”
He watched as she gave him one last smile and then turned to leave. He stood for long moments after the door closed behind her.
Fascinating.
He walked back behind his desk and picked up the phone to ask his secretary to place a call for him. Then noticed that the sly bird had left the proposals on his desk despite his handing them back to her.
He grinned, giving her points for moxie.
And scoring her highly across the board….
3
BRYNA SAT IN HER CAR in the parking lot of Metaxas Limited. Despite the routine forty-five-minute drive from the city back to Earnest, she felt oddly shaken, as if she’d just escaped being run down by a speeding car … and she wanted to step right back into its path.
She’d heard that Caleb Payne was not a man to fool around with. And when their paths had crossed before she’d certainly seen firsthand that he could be darkly suggestive. But this morning … wow. She couldn’t have been more affected by him had he lit a flamethrower and aimed it in her direction. Even now her skin tingled and her panties were damp from their brief face-to-face. Oh, his words may have been straightforward and dismissive. But his dark eyes had held wicked invitation. One that she found she wanted to take him up on, despite all the bells and whistles going off warning her against just that.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a good idea to be entertaining thoughts of seducing the man she wanted to help pull Metaxas Limited back from the brink. If she were being honest, it was a very bad idea. She’d never mixed business with pleasure before and now, with the stakes as high as they were, she shouldn’t even be thinking about it.
Which was probably part of the reason she was.
Her younger cousin Ari had once told her that she had a dangerous streak to her. Opting to date the bad boys over the good. Taking imprudent risks with her job that found her struggling for acceptance and advancement.
She closed her eyes tightly, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and took a deep breath.
Go away, go away, go away, she ordered the image of Caleb Payne etched into the back of her eyelids.
A knock on her window caused her to knock her head against the roof of her late-model Mustang GT. Which was no less than she deserved, she thought wryly as she stared out at Ari standing next to her car.
She slid the keys from the ignition and opened the door too fast, hitting his legs.
“Ow.” Ari chuckled as he stepped back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Bryna pushed the door lock on her key fob twice, engaging the alarm. “That’s why you knocked on the window and gave me a robin’s egg on my head.”
“A robin’s egg?” He lifted his hand to touch her hair and she playfully batted it out of the way.
“Don’t you dare.”
His grin was one-hundred-percent pure Ari.
When it came to the charm and looks departments, it was joked within the family that Ari Metaxas had hit the genetic lottery. If he smiled at you, you were required to smile back. It was as simple as that.
That it had been that same irresistible charm that had landed the company in trouble wasn’t surprising.
“Where you coming back from?” Ari asked as they walked toward the offices.
“I should be asking you the same thing.”
“I asked you first.”
“So you did.” Abruptly, Bryna had a hard time remembering her excuse for being away from the office.
She absently rubbed at the bump on her head and then remembered. A hair appointment. Yes, that was it.
“Salon,” she told him. “And you?”
“Lunch with my fiancée.”
Bryna tried not to let her feelings register in a visual way, but Ari must have caught her frown.
“Uh-oh,” he said quietly, his smile vanishing. “Are you still having trouble accepting that Elena and I are together?”
Bryna opened the door for him. “Did I say anything?”
“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”
All right. So she might have to forgive her cousin for his tawdry behavior. It was an unwritten rule in the familial contract. But the woman at least half—if not fully—responsible for what had happened a month ago in Greece … well, it didn’t say anywhere that she couldn’t hold a grudge against her for life.
“She’s carrying my child. Your niece or nephew.”
Bryna softened. He hadn’t said second cousin, which was actually what would be the case. But niece or nephew. Her heart expanded with fondness.
This was exactly the reason it was easy to forgive Ari’s charming little heart.
“How’d the doctor’s appointment go?” she asked.
Ari’s grin made a bouncing comeback. “I heard the baby’s heartbeat. It has to be the second-best thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“Second?”
“Elena’s soft sighs are the first.”
Bryna held up her hand palm out. “TMI.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Bry.”
They climbed the steps to the second floor of the old mill offices and walked down the narrow hallway. “Who says my mind’s in the gutter?”
She would. Ever since the meeting with Caleb.
“TMI includes mushy sweet moments, as well.”
“Ah, I get it.”
She walked through the open doorway to her office and then turned toward him. “Don’t you have some work to do?”
He slid his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants, his crisp, navy blazer draping back in a way that made him look as if he’d just stepped from a Calvin Klein ad.
He opened his mouth to say something and she closed her door in his face, staring at him through the glass.
He laughed and shook his head, continuing on down the hall toward his own office.
Bryna placed her briefcase on her desk, then opened the door again, looking up and down the hallway. She didn’t see one of the dozen people who worked there.
Good. She needed a few moments to herself to get her thoughts together.
And to scheme exactly how she was going to sneak a meeting with Caleb Payne again … one that might include indulging in the vivid fantasies that were forming in her mind at the mere idea of acting on the intense attraction that existed between them….
AS MUCH A LONER AS HE WAS, he hated eating alone.
Caleb lingered in his office after five o’clock that Friday, checking his watch and thinking about whom he could invite to dinner at such a late hour. Someone who wouldn’t expect anything beyond a good meal. He wasn’t up to anything more.
He had a couple of male colleagues he could call, but both were married. And while the thought of eating alone didn’t please him, less appealing was dining solo at a couple’s house. Especially a young couple convinced they were in love.
“Mr. Payne?”
His secretary opened the door after briefly knocking.
“I have the New York attorney for you on line one.”
Caleb looked at his watch. That would make it after 8:00 p.m. eastern time. Which was pretty much par for the course for their conversations. He didn’t hire anyone who wasn’t two hundred percent committed to their careers.
“Thank you, Nancy. Any word yet on Manolis?”
Philippidis had been avoiding his calls all day.
“No, sir. I’m still trying.”
“Thank you.”
She left the office, closing the door behind her. He turned his attention to the waiting call from his personal attorney.
How long had this case been dragging on? Two years? And the last time he checked, it was no closer to being resolved than when he originally brought the suit.
Of course, the unusual nature of his petition was partly responsible. Most courts didn’t know what to do with a thirty-two-year-old man’s request to force a DNA test. Especially when the parent in question was deceased.
“Harry,” Caleb said, picking up the extension.
“Caleb.”
He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes; he could tell by the sound of the attorney’s voice that this wasn’t going to be good.
“I’ve received an offer.”
He listened as an amount in the mid-seven digits was named.
“Are you still there?” Harry asked, reminding him that he had yet to respond.
“No.”
A slight pause and then, “No, you’re not there? Or, no, no deal?”
He sighed and sat up straighter. “This has never been about the money.”
Money he had. In spades. He’d made three times more than his father ever had by age thirty. And the Payne family was just as old and wealthy a New England clan as the Winsteads.
The thought brought his mother’s face to mind. As her only child, they’d always shared an especially close bond … drawn tighter, he suspected, by the details surrounding his birth.
He had yet to tell her he was pursuing this lawsuit; of course, that meant little—she was probably already well aware of what was going on. The upper one percent was like a small town with lots of acreage. Still, she had yet to say anything to him. He suspected she was waiting for him to come to her and allowing him to do what he needed to do.
The way he saw it, he was doing this as much for her as for himself. She’d sacrificed so much for him … surely he owed her at least the return of her good name.
“They’re anxious for you to let this go.”
Of course they were. The Winsteads didn’t want an illegitimate child to sully up the late, great Theodore Winstead’s good name.
He realized he was gritting his teeth and forced himself to stop.
“You don’t have to make a decision now. Sleep on it. I’ll call again on Monday.”
“No need,” Caleb said. “Refuse and go to the next step.”
“Will do.” Not even a hesitation.
Satisfied, he hung up the phone and sat back again, his every muscle coiled and tense.
He didn’t know how long he sat like that until there was another knock and Nancy appeared in the door.
“Any luck finding Philippidis?” he asked.
“No.”
He stared at her for minute. It was understood that when he was in the office she was to be present, as well. Unless she requested otherwise, or he dismissed her.
“These messages came in while you were on the phone.”
He rubbed his face, noting the stubble there. He’d use his en suite bathroom to shave and clean up before leaving.
He accepted the five slips of paper, leafing through them once, and then again, stopping on one in particular.
He held it up. “Is this her office number?”
“Her cell phone.”
Even better.
“Thanks, Nancy. That’ll be all. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Very good, sir. Good night.”
Caleb rounded his desk, waiting until his secretary gathered her things and left the office before sitting down and picking up the phone, dialing the number on the slip.
She picked up on the second ring.
“Our meeting was interrupted the other day. I’d like to continue it.”
He waited for Bryna Metaxas to reply. “I’d like that,” she said, a low, groin-tightening purr in her voice. “Next week?”
“A half hour. At Giorgio’s.”
HALF AN HOUR wasn’t nearly enough time for a girl to put on her evening best. But when the invitation was accepted, she was bound by business etiquette to follow through.
But as the taxi pulled up to Giorgio’s forty minutes later, Bryna knew that business had nothing to do with agreeing to meet Caleb Payne at the upscale restaurant.
She adjusted the heel strap of the gold Grecian-style sandals that Ari had brought back from Santorini for her, paid the driver and stepped out, pleasantly surprised to find Caleb waiting for her outside the doors. She’d expected him to be ensconced in one of the plush booths enjoying a drink, possibly even having ordered already.
Instead he’d waited outside.
Every sensation she’d experienced during their meeting the other day returned … tenfold. She felt…. breathless, somehow. Like he was already touching her everywhere she wanted to be touched by him. and she was responding in a greedy, uninhibited way….
Over the past couple of days, she’d tried to convince herself she was overreacting to what had really happened, imagined that he had been attracted to her, shelved any sexual notions with a Post-it that read harmless flirtation.
But now she knew she hadn’t amplified anything…. if anything, she’d downplayed it.
She walked in his direction, watching him watch her. Despite her business argument, she was dressed for sheer pleasure. There was nothing innocent about her choice of little black dress. The clingy material was too intimate, her bare shoulder moist with lotion and perfumed, her hair down from her usual twist and finger-curled around her face.
Bryna hesitated slightly as she drew near enough to speak. In the waning evening light, he looked a dangerous black figure, more shadow than light. And for reasons she was ill-prepared to identify, she felt as if she was walking into a trap. A nicely appointed trap, but one the man across from her had designed to his advantage … and one she fully intended to enter, the hell with the consequences.
Finally, she stopped in front of him, clutching her small purse. Whatever words she might have said dissolved against her dry tongue as Caleb’s gaze lingered on her legs and then slowly made its way up the snug fit of her dress until he finally looked into her eyes. Bryna jutted her chin out the tiniest bit and smiled suggestively, waiting for his thoughts, which she was sure he was about to share.
“Intriguing.”
Bryna shivered. She’d never been referred to as intriguing before; she decided she liked it. More, she was determined to prove herself exactly that.
She asked in a voice she hardly recognized, “Shall we?”
The upward quirk of the corners of his mouth made her own water. “We most definitely shall….”
4
CALEB HAD CERTAINLY KNOWN his share of women. And prided himself on being able to pigeonhole them within five minutes. Who they were. What they were after. How long their liaison would last.
But Bryna Metaxas was proving a charming enigma.
Throughout dinner she was by turns openly flirtatious and smartly businesslike depending on which way he slanted the conversation.
She even seemed to realize exactly what he was doing with each turn, a small, acknowledging smile letting him know that he wouldn’t always get his way.
Little did she know that he always got exactly that, he reflected as he sipped his post-dinner coffee.
“So, tell me, Mr. Payne. Since it’s obvious you didn’t ask me here to discuss business matters—in fact, I’m certain you haven’t even looked at the proposals I left at your office—then why did you ask?”
Direct. Fresh. Another woman might think the reason for his invitation unimportant, instead focusing on what she could gain from it. Not Bryna.
“Is it a sin to want to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman?”
She licked the side of her fork in a decidedly sexy manner that they both knew was done for reasons other than enjoyment of the slice of chocolate mousse torte she’d ordered for dessert.
“I should think you’d have at least a dozen beautiful women you could call.”
Caleb leaned back in the leather booth, his suit pants feeling tight around the crotch at the sight of her tongue darting out of her red painted lips and drawing slowly along the silver. He could think of one place in particular where he’d like to see her do that, and the idea was so tempting it was more intoxicating than the snifter of cognac he’d ordered along with his coffee.
“I could also ask why you were free on a Friday evening.” He hiked a brow. “Or did you cancel something?”
“You’re redirecting the conversation. Again.”
Caleb chuckled and narrowed his eyes as he considered her.
“Okay.” He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table between them. “I recently found myself at the end of six-month relationship,” he said. “And hadn’t thought about not having company this weekend. And, the truth is, I do not like to dine alone.”
She appeared surprised that he’d offered up what he had. She leaned forward, as well, their hands nearly meeting on the table. “I appreciate the honesty, but that still doesn’t explain why you called me.”
“I called you,” he began, turning his hands palm up, aware of the way they itched to touch her, her cheek, her neck, her breasts…. “Because I was reasonably sure that you wouldn’t sleep with me tonight.”
That apparently surprised her as she sat back. But she recovered quickly.
She didn’t appear in any hurry to offer up a response. And he liked that. Indeed, he enjoyed watching her face as she turned his explanation over in her beautiful head, her eyes growing dark, her smile provocatively sexy.
He’d bet she was slowly rubbing her foot against the calf of her other leg under the table.
“Reasonably?” she asked, her voice quiet and loaded with suggestion.
Nice. “Mmm.”
“Because?”
“Because you wouldn’t want me to get the wrong impression.”
She smiled. “Ah, because of our business connection.”
“There is no business connection.”
“Yet.”
He grinned. “Yet.”
“So you think I’m above sleeping with someone for business gain,” she said quietly, putting another forkful of torte in her mouth. A mouth that was driving him to absolute distraction.
“I think you’re very much above it.”
“And if I invited you back to my place?”
“I’d have to insist we go to mine….”
OKAY, SO HE’D CALLED her bluff.
And Bryna practically shivered from head to toe at the thought of going through with it.
It had been sweet torture sitting across from him, wanting to know more, but unable to find the words with which to ask him.
Oh, they’d talked. But she’d been too distracted by the line of his jaw … the strength of his hands … the length of his fingers … the sureness of his dark gaze to challenge him to a verbal rather than visual duel.
And now she had the chance at a physical contest.
The heat of his hand where it rested on her arm as they walked toward the restaurant door seared her bare flesh.
At the curb, a limo instantly pulled up and the driver came out to open the door for them.
If she got into that car, she knew she’d be a goner. She would be unable to stop herself from going as far as he intended to take this. And while an elemental, wild side of her was all for it, her mind cried out that it was too fast, too soon. To sleep with him would be placing the advantage in his court and swipe all the balls from hers.
Instead of entering the car, she turned toward him, finding him so close that her thigh ended up pressing against a certain, nicely rock-hard part of him. She shivered and looked up into his eyes, her hand resting against his chest.
“As tempting as the invitation is,” she whispered, her breath grazing the jaw she’d been wanted to taste all night, “I’m afraid you’re right. There’s no chance I’m going to sleep with you tonight.”
He smelled of limes and one hundred percent hot male.
She watched the corners of his mouth turn up. “Shame,” he said, his fingers brushing against her hips and then resting there, pulling her imperceptibly closer to him, crowding her against his arousal.
“Mmm,” she agreed, her heart pounding a loud rhythm in her chest.
She leaned in as if to kiss him, her gaze moving from his eyes to his mouth and back again.
She stepped back instead and waved for a taxi.
“Thank you for dinner,” she murmured.
“Thank you for the company.”
“Anytime.”
His eyes sparkled dangerously. “I might just take you up on that offer.”
She hoped he did.
SO SOFT … SO WARM …
Her body throbbed with yearning, wet, needy. She arched her back, reaching for Caleb as he leaned above her. But he always seemed just out of reach, smiling that knowing, wicked grin….
Her own moan woke her up.
Bryna rose quickly to her elbows and pushed back the tangle of hair in her eyes. She blinked her old bedroom at the Metaxas estate into view. White-curtained canopy. Pink-and-white wallpaper. A white marble fireplace. Stuffed animals stacked up in one corner.
She blew out a long breath. It had been two days since she’d said goodbye to Caleb at the restaurant, and ever since he’d haunted her dreams. Always there, always just within reach, yet outside it.
Bryna whipped the covers back and maneuvered her bare legs over the side of the bed, paying little mind that her simple cotton nightgown was bunched up around her thighs. She reached for her cell on the nightstand and clicked it open. No calls. No texts. She closed it again and put it back down and then padded across the large room toward the connecting bathroom.
Friday night it had taken all of her will after getting into that cab not to direct the driver to turn around and follow the limo instead. The reaction had surprised her. She’d never met a man who’d gotten under her skin to such a mind-robbing degree. She wanted to feel his hands on her. Wanted to put her mouth on him. Wanted to spend the night exploring the seeds of sensation their dinner together had planted in her. So much so that to prevent herself from pursuing him the next day, she’d driven back to Earnest for the night when usually she drove up Sunday morning for family brunch.
Within twenty minutes Bryna was showered and dressed in a white slacks and a purple short-sleeved blouse, no less bothered than she’d been when she’d awakened. But determined to shake off the peculiar feelings any which way she could.
She slid into her sandals and went downstairs. It was nine and brunch wasn’t until ten-thirty, but she wasn’t surprised when she found her uncle Percy and Troy already up and on the back deck enjoying coffee.
“Good morning.” She kissed her uncle on the check and squeezed her cousin’s shoulder as she passed on the way to the chair next to him.
“Well, good morning to you, too,” Percy said, folding the business section of the paper and placing it on the table. “Nice to see you here so early.”
“I actually came in last night,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“Oh? Any particular reason for that?”
Just that she couldn’t seem to get a maddening man out of her mind, that’s all. “No. Just decided I’d like to wake up at home this morning, that’s all.”
And the grand ol’ estate was that, wasn’t it? All 800 acres of land and 25,000 square feet of house. Plenty of room for them all to reside without living on top of each other.
Home. It was odd, sometimes, to think that for her it had once been a simpler place just outside Seattle. The past twelve years since her parents’ deaths, this had been where her old grade cards, school photographs and swim meet medals were stored. This sweeping mansion that sat on a hill overlooking the town of Earnest. And no matter how much she claimed independence, this was where she went when she needed to find peace. When she needed to touch base with her foundation.
And it was her uncle Percy and cousins Troy and Ari who were her immediate family. They were always there for her.
“Have you added enough sugar?” Troy asked now.
Bryna looked at where she was stirring in yet another teaspoonful. She frowned and took a sip, making a face.
“Uh-oh. Looks like man troubles to me.”
They all turned as the more outspoken of them had stepped out onto the deck.
Ari.
Bryna smiled and then grimaced. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you usually have to have a man in order for there to be any kind of trouble, don’t you?”
“Not necessarily.” Ari reached over her and plucked a grape from a bunch on a tray. “Trouble enters when you want a man you can’t have.”
Troy rustled his section of the Seattle Times. “Look who’s the expert suddenly.”
Bryna looked behind Ari. Could it be he’d come to the brunch alone this week? She knew a spot of hope.
Then Elena came outside, apologizing for her delay. “I’m not even showing yet, but I swear my bladder is the size of a pea.”
Bryna frowned as she watched the other woman greet her uncle the same way she had and then say good morning to Troy, who actually grinned at her.
Where was the animosity? The anger?
Oh, well. It looked as if the job would have to fall to her. When the other woman took the chair next to her, Bryna focused solely on her coffee.
Even she admitted to being surprised at her reaction to her cousin’s intended … especially since Elena was pregnant with what they all hoped would be the first of the next Metaxas generation. But so much had been riding on that deal with Philippidis. To just throw it all away because of a woman was unthinkable to her.
She frowned. If only Elena would have kept her legs closed, and her hand on her ex-groom’s arm, right now the first production line would be running and the second would be under construction, employing at least two hundred of the town’s hurting residents.
The thought made her mind drift back to Caleb and her own conflicted feelings for him.
Of course, the difference lay in that she wasn’t engaged to marry someone else so no one would be hurt if things spiraled out of control and then went south.
She swallowed hard.
Other than herself, that is….
5
WAS IT TIME YET?
Caleb looked at his watch as the presentation dragged on. There were ten men in the room for the weekly Wednesday meeting that had been scheduled for that morning, then delayed until afternoon because Manolis Philippidis was late flying in.
He glanced at the modern-day Greek tycoon at the end of the table. Manolis held a small coffee cup in his meaty fingers, his dark eyes on the acquisitions head who was talking about the pros and cons of buying a small business out of Minnesota that made public buses that ran on natural gas.
The new business was green business.
He looked at his watch again.
“Are we keeping you from something, Caleb?” Manolis asked, interrupting the speaker.
He sat back, grinning easily. “No. Not at all.”
“Perhaps we’re boring you, then?”
Caleb’s smile grew tight.
It was well-known that there was no love lost between the two men. Which was why Caleb had never worked directly for him. Would never hand that kind of power to a man who would just as soon fire you as look at you.
No. Caleb liked that he was a well-paid consultant to the company. A very well-paid consultant. Which sometimes required him to sit through trying meetings that had nothing to do with him. And suffer a man who was otherwise insufferable.
“To the contrary. I was thinking about the three other more viable gas-powered bus ventures that are looking for investors rather than to be bought outright.” He raised a brow. “Would you like me to continue? Or shall we get back to the meeting agenda?”
As expected, Manolis glowered at him, finished off his coffee and then looked at his own watch. “I believe this meeting is concluded.”
If there was one man who hated wasting time as much as Caleb it was Philippidis.
The Greek stood and everyone else at the table hurried to do the same. All but for Caleb, who took his time getting to his feet.
He extended his hand toward Manolis, who shook it. “You have information on these other companies? “
“I sent proposals to the ventures head a month ago.”
Manolis nodded. “Let him know I want to hear more about them at next month’s meeting.”
“Very well.”
The other man straightened his tailor-made suit jacket as if having just made an important decision and muttered his goodbyes before leaving the room.
Caleb followed him out, heading directly for his own office.
“Has …” he began as he neared Nancy’s desk.
She interrupted. “Miss Metaxas is waiting in your office, as you directed, sir.”
The sun had just emerged from the heavy gray clouds.
BRYNA READ THE SPINES of the books in the cases that lined Caleb’s office. Business tomes were interspaced with leather-bound classic fiction novels and philosophy titles. She wondered if he’d read them or if they’d come by way of a professional decorator. He was, after all, a consultant with the Philippidis company, meaning this wasn’t his permanent office, but rather a temporary one.
But how temporary? How many years had he been working with him?
She moved down the bookcase, squinting to read the script on a recognition-of-excellence plaque that had been propped against the books.
She looked around. There were no photographs, personal or professional. It seemed to her that everything was purposely displayed to reveal very little about the office’s inhabitant beyond his power and success.
She’d moved to where she could see behind his desk and now looked over her shoulder, eyeing the drawers there.
The door opened and she jumped.
Caleb seemed to take in the situation in one glance. He slowly closed the door even as Bryna walked to the visitor’s side of the desk.
“Nice to see you again, Miss Metaxas,” he said in that low, deep way he had of speaking.
She cleared her throat. “The pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Payne.”
He stood looking at her for a moment, not long, but long enough to encourage that longing to wend through her veins anew.
“We’ll see,” he said, but whether it was a threat or a promise, she didn’t know.
He walked toward his chair.
Did he know what effect he had on her? She’d offer an unqualified yes. He gave the impression of being a man who was aware of everyone and everything in any room he inhabited. And likely commanded the gazes of every female within a half-mile radius, along with a majority of men if just from sheer envy.
“I was pleased when you called for this appointment,” she said. “Would you like to go over the proposals?”
He opened the right desk drawer, watching her face as he did so. “Only one of them has possibilities.”
“Oh? Which?”
“The second.”
She smiled.
“That’s the one you intended me to choose.”
“It’s the one I’d hoped you’d choose.”
Of the three, the proposal was the most solid and followed the basic tenets of the original, only scaled down. Instead of four production lines, they’d begin with one. Rather than go whole hog, she proposed starting with a limited offering. Troy’s plans were large, ambitious, much like her cousin himself. But as she’d tried without success to explain to him, perhaps it was better to start small with the potential to grow than big with the possibility of failure … if he succeeded in selling the grand idea at all….
Caleb walked to a polished table near the window that held four chairs. He put the proposal in question down. “There are a number of things we need to reconfigure.”
Bryna followed him and pulled out the chair next to the one he stood behind. But he didn’t sit. Instead, he shrugged out of his jacket, hung it on a hanger inside a door that she suspected led to a full bathroom, and then undid his cufflinks, sliding them into his pockets before rolling up his sleeves.
Her mouth went dry. Even though he was going for comfort, he still looked more elegant than any man she’d ever seen. And that was saying something because her cousins weren’t exactly slouches when it came to the man department.
He’d begun talking, presumably about the proposal, but Bryna couldn’t make a word out. Her ears had stopped accepting input as her heart rate sped up. She was too caught up watching him take off his tie and undo his top three buttons. His waist was narrow where his Egyptian broadcloth shirt was tucked into his slacks, the belt further emphasizing the difference from his wide chest and shoulders.
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Tori Carrington
About the Author
Multi-award-winning, bestselling authors Lori Schlachter Karayianni and Tony Karayianni are the power behind the pen name Tori Carrington. Their over forty-five titles include numerous Blaze® mini-series, as well as the ongoing Sofie Metropolis comedic mystery series with another publisher. Visit www.toricarrington.net and www.sofiemetro.com for more information on the duo and their titles.
Private Sessions
Tori Carrington
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
There’s just something about a strong, bad-boy hero who can rock a business suit, isn’t there? He may try to conceal his true character, but once you get this guy between the sheets … oh, my!
Private Sessions is the first in our three-book PRIVATE SCANDALS series and focuses on hot businessman Caleb Payne, who embodies all of what bad boys are made of. He knows exactly what it takes to get what he wants; especially when it comes to sexy Bryna Metaxas, who not only provides an opportunity to glean a bit of enjoyment out of the disaster that is Caleb’s current business life, but to wreak a bit of revenge. But there are some sins that are unforgivable. Has he finally gone too far?
We hope you enjoy every sizzling, heart-stopping moment of Caleb and Bryna’s journey toward happily-ever-after. We’d love to hear what you think. Contact us at PO Box 12271, Toledo, OH 43612, USA (we’ll respond with a signed bookplate, newsletter and bookmark), or visit us on the web at www.toricarrington.net.
Here’s wishing you love, romance and HOT reading,
Lori & Tony Karayianni aka Tori Carrington
We dedicate this book to bad-boy-loving women
everywhere …
And to Julie Chivers and editor extraordinaire
Brenda Chin: you guys rock!
Table of Contents
Cover (#ua66fc670-cb3b-53e0-91e3-bbbdf9900d06)
About the Author (#u9030b9d1-034a-5230-9f3a-d597282a305a)
Title Page (#u7ea4379f-be96-58fb-a1b4-cf1e4eb7b227)
Dedication (#u783c4c2e-84a7-5b4a-ad5e-8c13654510ef)
Prologue (#uea10bd6e-85b3-5057-b67f-9b071d9165ab)
Chapter One (#u399be491-1247-599a-9438-54526e8d62ae)
Chapter Two (#ucfa805c9-8eaf-5a52-983c-1f2ba8f9b452)
Chapter Three (#u1bf6d0fe-42c2-5856-81fb-b19018e193d7)
Chapter Four (#ue07cb1bd-3c6d-5a9a-8031-1721fbf05c4c)
Chapter Five (#ucbc9e449-9b4c-5f90-8a87-ae41febd4513)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
“GREAT SEX IS NOT ENOUGH for me, Caleb. Not anymore.”
Damn. There it was …
Caleb Payne stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse apartment, his attention not on the reflection of the beautiful woman who had uttered the words, but on the sight beyond the glass. Seattle’s skyline twinkled against the inky late-night backdrop. His fingers tightened around the crystal tumbler that held an inch of the best whiskey the civilized world had to offer. He downed the smooth liquid in one swallow and then slowly dragged the back of his hand against his mouth, finally considering Cissy’s image in the window.
How was it possible such an attractive woman suddenly emerged unappealing? Despite the low-cut, curve-hugging long red dress she wore, her white-blond hair floating around her smooth shoulders, he wanted to look everywhere but at her.
His gaze fell to her full breasts. Correction: he wanted to look everywhere but into her pleading, hopeful face.
She instinctively crossed her arms, impeding his view.
“Sex is all I have to give you.” Caleb slowly turned, considering her reaction from beneath his brows. “I told you that from the beginning.”
He’d seen this coming since earlier that evening, when his limo had stopped at her downtown apartment to pick her up for the charity ball they’d attended.
Actually, if he were honest, he’d seen this coming since the day they’d first met.
It gave him no pleasure to know that he’d been spot-on when it came to the timeline he’d imagined when he’d met the pretty socialite six months ago. Around about month three, she’d started talking exclusivity. Which hadn’t been a problem, considering it was in his cautious nature to stick to one sexual partner at a time. Month four brought talk of combining households, a conversation he’d artfully avoided.
And tonight, a week before the end of month six, she had launched her plan for even more.
“I’ve never lied to you, Cissy,” he told her now. “You knew the score from the beginning.”
“But things change. People change.”
He shook his head. “Not me. Never me.”
Pain crumpled her face, an emotion that left him unmoved.
He wondered if she’d say the words countless others had said before her and call him a heartless bastard.
If she did, she’d be right. He’d been raised by a single mother, never knowing his father although the man had always been nearby, present without being a presence. While Caleb had never wanted for anything materially … well, one therapist he’d dated had suggested he’d been stunted emotionally by his upbringing.
He’d been a bastard child within a socio-economic class that still frowned heavily on such things. And his peers had never let him forget it.
That’s where the heartless part entered in.
Oh, Cissy might want more now, but in a week, maybe two, she’d be thankful she hadn’t been successful in her efforts. Out there somewhere was a man who would improve her standing; not detract from it.
He walked to the bar and poured another finger into his glass, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Is marriage anywhere in the cards for us?” Cissy asked quietly.
He inwardly winced.
Once, just once, he’d like to be proven wrong. He’d like to date a woman who was unpredictable. Someone who would surprise him. Someone who’d enjoy whatever moments they could spend together without planning, scheming, plotting for something more.
Someone who wouldn’t want something he was incapable of giving.
He shook his head. “No.”
He heard her moving around. Imagined her picking up her wrap. Checking inside her purse. Perhaps getting a tissue with which to wipe her nose. Then stalking toward the front door.
“Well, then, I guess this is goodbye.” Her voice was half accusatory, half hopeful.
He nodded again without turning. “Goodbye, Cissy.”
Silence. Long moments later the door closed behind her. Caleb downed the whiskey, tapping his fingers against the expensive crystal. Shame. He’d liked Cissy. She’d been nice to have around. Nice to have in his bed.
He sighed and then headed for his home office and the only thing that never asked him for anything more, that never complained or questioned or demanded, or failed to hold his fascination: work.
1
THE MORE THINGS CHANGED, the more they stayed the same.
Bryna Metaxas weighed the old axiom, feeling exasperated by her job, by the current stagnancy of her love life—or, rather, the lack of one at all—and frustrated by everything in general.
She sat in her small office at the old lumber mill where Metaxas Limited was located in Earnest, Washington, blind to the view of the lush, pine-covered hills visible through the window behind her. She was too busy trying not to think about the weekly Tuesday meeting she’d attended that morning where she’d been marginalized yet again. She couldn’t help wondering why her older cousin Troy included her if he wasn’t going to have her do anything more substantial than take notes and follow up on minor details. She was half-surprised that he hadn’t asked her to serve coffee to the dozen attendees while they brainstormed ideas on where to go now that the deal they’d been working on with Greek billionaire Manolis Philippidis had fallen through.
Fallen through. Now, that was a print-ready description for what had happened. Disaster would be more fitting.
Bryna drew in a deep breath. How long had she been working at the company? Nearly two years. And while every six months she was given a positive review and her salary was increased incrementally, she was doing basically the same mundane tasks she had done since the day she hired on.
At any other company she would have quit long ago. But this was a family operation … and she was part of the family.
Besides, as a resident of Earnest, she had a vested interest in seeing the plan succeed for the good of the community. Hell, she’d minored in green energy at university and had a better working knowledge of the emerging technology than either of her cousins.
Bryna sighed and pushed her straight black hair back from her face. On her desk sat three different versions of a proposal—variants on the original she’d put together months ago, but had never seen the top of her cousin’s in-box. A proposal she’d thought stood a chance when the Philippidis debacle happened. But, no. If anything, Troy was even less interested in looking at her ideas. No matter how many bricks walls he continually ran into.
Ultimately, she’d decided she’d have to fly solo.
It was just after eleven and she’d been at the old family mill offices since six, moths fluttering their wings against the walls of her stomach at the thought of going this alone. If some of that wild flapping was also associated with the very attractive person she’d decided to approach first … well, she wasn’t admitting to it, beyond allowing that it had been a while since she’d enjoyed male attention … and this particular hot, single male not only appeared skilled in that specific area, he was renowned for it.
At any rate, if her plan worked the way she hoped, she’d be a major player in the business rather than the second fiddle to which she’d been relegated.
Of course, if her cousins Troy and his younger brother Ari found out what she was up to, they’d probably fire her sorry butt on the spot, family ties be damned.
She heard Troy’s voice in the hall outside her door. Bryna quickly put another file on top of the proposals and picked up a pen, pretending interest in the routine accounting job she’d been given to do the day before.
“Hey, Bry,” Troy said, leaning against the doorjamb the way he always did.
Everything that the gossips said about both of her cousins was true. They were powerful and impossibly good-looking, walking, talking Greek gods, a double whammy to any single female within grinning distance.
Of course, Ari was no longer on the market. And Troy …
“You look like shit,” she said.
And he did. It was the height of summer and he looked pale as a ghost. And tired beyond what any amount of sleep could cure.
The reason for that was closely tied into Ari’s change in bachelor status. A month ago the two brothers had traveled to Greece, not so much for the Philippidis wedding, but to close the deal with the wealthy groom that would put the company on a fast track. And save Earnest, the old mill town that they all called home that had recently chalked up a twenty-five percent unemployment rate, the highest in its hundred-year history.
Needless to say, the deal hadn’t gone through. Not through any fault of Troy’s. Rather, Ari’s infatuation with the bride had resulted in the collapse of not only the deal, but contributed to the downward spiral of what was left of the company itself.
And that broke Bryna’s heart. Metaxas Limited was a true family business. Troy … well, what would he do without the company his grandfather and then father built? He lived, ate and breathed ML. The cash flow reflected his blood flow.
Both Troy and Ari were much more than cousins to her: they were her brothers. She’d been an only child until she was twelve and the Cessna her father had been flying had crashed, killing him and her mother as they’d been returning from a weekend trip to San Francisco. Her father’s brother had generously provided a home for her along with his two sons, his own wife having died long ago.
It hadn’t been easy being the only female in a house full of males. But it had been interesting. She remembered the first time she’d brought a boy home to “study,” when she was fifteen. Troy and Ari had invited Dale Whitman out back for a talk after they’d caught him and Bryna enjoying a first kiss over their chemistry books. When Dale hadn’t returned to the dining room within ten minutes, she went looking for him. And found him trussed up by his ankles, suspended from a branch of the old oak tree out back.
Her cousins had scared him so badly that not only had he not returned, no other boyfriend had dared show up at the Metaxas estate again, the ankle story having taken on a life of its own and grown to mythological proportions that would do the Greeks proud.
And this company was their Mount Olympus.
Which is why Bryna had decided it was long past time she took action to defend and protect the same.
Her cousin chuckled quietly at her comment and rubbed his freshly shaven chin. “Gee, thanks. Exactly what I needed to hear this morning.”
Bryna grimaced. “Just calling ‘em as I see ‘em.”
“Yeah, well, maybe that’s one of the reasons why you haven’t earned that promotion you’ve been angling for.”
“Oh, so unfair. I’m speaking to you cousin to cousin now. Not employer to employee.”
“And the difference in the Land of Bryna?”
She flashed him a bright smile. “I’d be much nicer if we weren’t related.”
She successfully concealed her true reaction to her recent promotion denial. She wanted to be included on an equal level, damn it. Was that too much to ask? Okay, so she was only twenty-four. But she’d graduated summa cum laude from WSU with her master’s in business administration. And she was up to the task.
She’d even told them she didn’t need a hike in salary. Just give her anything that was above junior associate, essentially a glorified office assistant, and she’d be happy.
Troy had told her no. Again. That the company was putting a freeze on all promotions for the time being.
She’d half expected him to ruffle her hair and tell her to go out and play like a good girl.
She needed to convince him that she wasn’t their cute little cousin anymore. Or merely their cute little cousin; she had no intention of giving up her special spot in the family.
Troy said, “If that were true, I’d give you the promotion in a blink.”
She twisted her lips. “I’m never going to live down that Bainwright incident, am I?”
“Bainwright incident? Oh, wait. Yes, now I remember.” He shook his finger at her. “Maybe it’s just me, but dumping the contents of a water pitcher in a supplier’s lap during a meeting is not exactly good work etiquette.”
“Neither is his copping a feel while I was pouring his water.”
“He said it was an honest mistake.”
“An honest mistake would be if he’d removed the hand in question the moment it made contact. Not leave it there and give a couple of squeezes for good measure.”
She remembered the slimy man’s fingers on her breast and gave an involuntary shudder.
Troy sighed heavily. “When you realize that perhaps you could have handled the situation more diplomatically, maybe then we’ll have another talk about that promotion.”
Bryna sat back, prepared to say something along the lines of “So I suppose offering him my other breast for a tweak would have been preferable.”
Instead, her gaze fell on the files on her desk. More specifically, on the proposals that she was scheduled to pitch to none other than Manolis Philippidis’s principal consultant in …
“Oh, my God, is that the time?” Bryna launched herself from her chair.
Troy blinked at her. “What, do you have an appointment?”
“Yes,” she confirmed, pulling on her suit jacket and buttoning the front. “Yes, I do.”
“May I ask with whom?”
She struck a pose. “With the hairdresser in Seattle. Would you like to attend, act as my wingman?”
He chuckled. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“You may want to rethink that. You could probably use a good spray tan.”
She discreetly stuffed the proposals into her briefcase and began to pass him.
“Very funny.”
“See you later, then.”
“Since it’s Tuesday, why don’t you just stay there? Come back on Sunday?”
Her usual schedule was to head to her small apartment in Seattle every Wednesday night, spend two days working from there, then return home to the Metaxas estate Sunday morning for brunch, starting the cycle over again.
“No, I’ll be coming back this afternoon,” she told him.
As Bryna headed toward the old steel stairs and the parking lot beyond the mill doors, she wasn’t sure which bothered her more: that she was nervous as hell, or that Troy hadn’t even thought twice about her leaving in the middle of the morning.
Just went to show you how much her cousin really thought of her and her work ethic.
She smiled to herself. If everything went the way she planned, that would all change soon enough….
2
TO THE VICTOR THE SPOILS….
Caleb knew who Bryna Metaxas was. She was related to the same man indirectly responsible for the collapse of his latest business deal. But given the fact that his position or personal wealth hadn’t been impacted, he was still the victor.
And she was very definitely the spoils. Because he had absolutely no interest in pursuing anything of a business nature with her.
They’d met once. During a meeting at Metaxas Limited. While Manolis Philippidis had droned on about a catch in the contract, Caleb had allowed himself to appreciate Bryna’s remarkable beauty. The type of looker who would be right at home sunning herself on one of Philippidis’s yachts, a white, barely there bikini playing up her physical assets, large sunglasses perched on her petite nose, her long, dark hair combed back while a formally clad waiter served her a dirty martini. He remembered thinking that she could easily challenge any of the goddesses her Greek ancestry boasted on the sexy meter. Why she would ever want to be associated with her loser cousins was an intriguing mystery to him. Especially since whatever ideas she’d proffered were immediately squashed by her cousin Troy, her thoughtful frown as he did so making her all the more appealing.
And she looked even better now, staring up at him with a wide smile.
Although for the record he’d prefer to see her in that barely there bikini rather than in the too-stern navy blue suit she had on.
He openly appreciated the pretty young woman who’d stormed his office after he’d made her wait for half an hour. She was a little on the young side. He was maybe a decade her senior. But if his recent experiences had taught him anything, it was that seeing women closer to his own age came with baggage he was no longer interested in carrying. Biological clocks and measuring sticks were tucked in their designer handbags, always nearby, always dictating their actions.
Bryna was young and had yet to hear the distant ticking. And her handbag of choice appeared to be a briefcase.
The fact that she was a member of the Metaxas family added a certain illicit appeal to her attraction quotient. It had been Ari Metaxas who sank one of his prized deals. Oh, not the business proposal that bit the dust with Philippidis’s marriage plans. But the contract Caleb had been working on for two years with a Dubai company that would have resulted in one of the largest conglomerates currently operating today.
The same contract that Philippidis’s single-minded lust for revenge against Metaxas and his unfaithful bride had mucked up beyond repair.
“Thanks for taking my appointment,” Bryna said, moving her briefcase from one hand to the other and then extending her right.
“No problem.” Was her skin really that soft? Caleb shamelessly held on to the feminine digits, rubbing his thumb slowly along the back.
He watched her pupils grow large in her dark green irises at the unabashed liberty he took. But rather than immediately try to pull away, she held his gaze, allowing the fiery spark that ignited between them to flare, running from her skin over to his. The heat sped downward and settled pleasantly in his groin.
He allowed himself a moment to imagine removing that barely there bikini in his fantasy to leave her fully bare …
Bryna cleared her throat and slowly withdrew her hand, taking the sexy image with her.
“I have three proposals I’d like to submit to you,” she said, sitting in one of the two high-backed visitor’s chairs and putting her case down at her crossed ankles. Slender, shapely ankles that drew his attention. She took documents out of her briefcase and held them out to him.
He made no move to take them. Instead, he permitted his gaze to rake up her calves to where the hem of her skirt had hiked up to just above her pleasing knees.
Bryna placed the proposals on the desk he stood next to.
“I’m sure that once you’ve had a chance to review them, you’ll see that a partnership with Metaxas Limited would be in everyone’s best interest.”
Having her open her knees a little wider would be in his best interest. Would she be wearing plain white panties, he wondered. Black? Red? Or would she surprise him by going commando?
The idea nudged his temperature gauge up more than a few notches.
He lifted his telltale gaze back to her face. “Does Troy know you’re here?”
He’d met both brothers on several occasions, but he’d gotten the distinct impression that the elder was in charge of all business dealings. And a control freak. Much like he, himself, was.
He was intrigued by the way Bryna avoided his gaze.
If he were to guess, he’d say that no one was aware that she was there.
Caleb knew himself well enough to recognize his growing attraction to the young woman sitting in his visitor’s chair. And judging by her reaction when they’d touched, he knew it would be all too easy to draw her into a sexual liaison. A few carefully placed caresses, whispered words, and she’d melt like butter on his toast.
The telecom buzzed.
His secretary. He’d instructed her to interrupt the meeting at minute five.
The problem lay in that he wasn’t all too sure he wanted to end his time with Bryna Metaxas.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“Sure. Go ahead.”
He picked up the phone and listened for a moment, his gaze roving hungrily over Bryna’s soft curves, before hanging up.
“I’m sorry,” he said, going for feigned reluctance and surprised to actually be feeling it. “But there appears to be an overseas call I really must take.”
She twisted lips that were full and lush and made for a man’s kiss. “Of course.” She got up from the chair. “I’m grateful for the time you’ve extended me. Just give my office a call when you’ve had a chance to review the proposals so we can set up another meeting.” She began to turn away, then lifted a finger and swiveled back. Her mouth was slightly open, as if prepared to say something, but his expression—which he was sure revealed his naked interest in her—must have caused her to hesitate.
Her pink tongue darted out and moistened those provocative lips.
“Actually,” she said quietly, then cleared her throat, “I’ll, um, call you.”
Caleb found himself crossing the room to be nearer to her. The musky scent of her perfume filled his senses. He dragged his gaze away from her mouth up to her eyes and then crossed his arms over his chest, as much to keep from touching her as to maintain the distance he wasn’t sure why he suddenly required. “Why did you choose me, Miss Metaxas?”
She was clearly as aware of him as he was of her … and thrown by his close proximity. He watched her elegant throat work around a swallow. “I don’t understand?”
“Why didn’t you go straight to Philippidis himself?”
Her smile was soft, tinged with a bit of wryness. “I thought my chances of putting together something with you were better, considering the circumstances.” She took in the width of his shoulders, his height. “I mean, you’re an independent consultant, right? While you’re associated with Philippidis, you’re not his employee.” She shrugged, the action looking anything but nonchalant. “We can’t sell Philippidis, but perhaps we—you and I—can work together to sell the idea to someone else.”
He liked her confidence … her awareness of herself as a woman. And he admired her poise; obviously she’d put a lot of thought into her approach, even though she knew the chances of him taking her up on her offer were remote.
He picked up the folders, glanced at the top one, then held them out to her.
“While flattered, Miss Metaxas, I’m afraid I’m not interested.”
Inaccurate to the nth degree. The problem lay in that he was very interested in her … only on a much more personal level.
She hesitantly took the proposals, but the look in her eyes told him that she saw him; possibly saw right through him.
Caleb cocked a brow.
“Are you sure there isn’t … something I can do to persuade you differently….” she asked quietly, leadingly.
He’d been playing the man v. woman game for long enough that he understood some had the killer instinct, were born with a natural understanding of basic human need and how to bend it to their advantage, and some didn’t.
Sexy Miss Bryna Metaxas had been born with it. She might not understand exactly how best to use it, but she knew enough to make her very enticing, indeed.
He smiled. “I’m sure.”
He drew closer to her, estimating that he had a good five inches on her and years of experience. While she demonstrated good instinctive skills, she was no match for him in any department.
Why, then, did he want to see just how much of challenge she’d present?
He was a breath away from her. She didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Didn’t indicate one way or another if he intimidated her. To the contrary, she appeared equally as enthralled by the chemistry that existed between them.
“I feel it only fair to tell you that this won’t be the last you hear from me,” she said so quietly it was nearly a whisper.
Caleb’s gaze slid over her face, taking in the hint of heated color and her decadent mouth before returning to her eyes.
“I certainly hope not, Miss Metaxas.”
He watched as she gave him one last smile and then turned to leave. He stood for long moments after the door closed behind her.
Fascinating.
He walked back behind his desk and picked up the phone to ask his secretary to place a call for him. Then noticed that the sly bird had left the proposals on his desk despite his handing them back to her.
He grinned, giving her points for moxie.
And scoring her highly across the board….
3
BRYNA SAT IN HER CAR in the parking lot of Metaxas Limited. Despite the routine forty-five-minute drive from the city back to Earnest, she felt oddly shaken, as if she’d just escaped being run down by a speeding car … and she wanted to step right back into its path.
She’d heard that Caleb Payne was not a man to fool around with. And when their paths had crossed before she’d certainly seen firsthand that he could be darkly suggestive. But this morning … wow. She couldn’t have been more affected by him had he lit a flamethrower and aimed it in her direction. Even now her skin tingled and her panties were damp from their brief face-to-face. Oh, his words may have been straightforward and dismissive. But his dark eyes had held wicked invitation. One that she found she wanted to take him up on, despite all the bells and whistles going off warning her against just that.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a good idea to be entertaining thoughts of seducing the man she wanted to help pull Metaxas Limited back from the brink. If she were being honest, it was a very bad idea. She’d never mixed business with pleasure before and now, with the stakes as high as they were, she shouldn’t even be thinking about it.
Which was probably part of the reason she was.
Her younger cousin Ari had once told her that she had a dangerous streak to her. Opting to date the bad boys over the good. Taking imprudent risks with her job that found her struggling for acceptance and advancement.
She closed her eyes tightly, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and took a deep breath.
Go away, go away, go away, she ordered the image of Caleb Payne etched into the back of her eyelids.
A knock on her window caused her to knock her head against the roof of her late-model Mustang GT. Which was no less than she deserved, she thought wryly as she stared out at Ari standing next to her car.
She slid the keys from the ignition and opened the door too fast, hitting his legs.
“Ow.” Ari chuckled as he stepped back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Bryna pushed the door lock on her key fob twice, engaging the alarm. “That’s why you knocked on the window and gave me a robin’s egg on my head.”
“A robin’s egg?” He lifted his hand to touch her hair and she playfully batted it out of the way.
“Don’t you dare.”
His grin was one-hundred-percent pure Ari.
When it came to the charm and looks departments, it was joked within the family that Ari Metaxas had hit the genetic lottery. If he smiled at you, you were required to smile back. It was as simple as that.
That it had been that same irresistible charm that had landed the company in trouble wasn’t surprising.
“Where you coming back from?” Ari asked as they walked toward the offices.
“I should be asking you the same thing.”
“I asked you first.”
“So you did.” Abruptly, Bryna had a hard time remembering her excuse for being away from the office.
She absently rubbed at the bump on her head and then remembered. A hair appointment. Yes, that was it.
“Salon,” she told him. “And you?”
“Lunch with my fiancée.”
Bryna tried not to let her feelings register in a visual way, but Ari must have caught her frown.
“Uh-oh,” he said quietly, his smile vanishing. “Are you still having trouble accepting that Elena and I are together?”
Bryna opened the door for him. “Did I say anything?”
“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”
All right. So she might have to forgive her cousin for his tawdry behavior. It was an unwritten rule in the familial contract. But the woman at least half—if not fully—responsible for what had happened a month ago in Greece … well, it didn’t say anywhere that she couldn’t hold a grudge against her for life.
“She’s carrying my child. Your niece or nephew.”
Bryna softened. He hadn’t said second cousin, which was actually what would be the case. But niece or nephew. Her heart expanded with fondness.
This was exactly the reason it was easy to forgive Ari’s charming little heart.
“How’d the doctor’s appointment go?” she asked.
Ari’s grin made a bouncing comeback. “I heard the baby’s heartbeat. It has to be the second-best thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“Second?”
“Elena’s soft sighs are the first.”
Bryna held up her hand palm out. “TMI.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Bry.”
They climbed the steps to the second floor of the old mill offices and walked down the narrow hallway. “Who says my mind’s in the gutter?”
She would. Ever since the meeting with Caleb.
“TMI includes mushy sweet moments, as well.”
“Ah, I get it.”
She walked through the open doorway to her office and then turned toward him. “Don’t you have some work to do?”
He slid his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants, his crisp, navy blazer draping back in a way that made him look as if he’d just stepped from a Calvin Klein ad.
He opened his mouth to say something and she closed her door in his face, staring at him through the glass.
He laughed and shook his head, continuing on down the hall toward his own office.
Bryna placed her briefcase on her desk, then opened the door again, looking up and down the hallway. She didn’t see one of the dozen people who worked there.
Good. She needed a few moments to herself to get her thoughts together.
And to scheme exactly how she was going to sneak a meeting with Caleb Payne again … one that might include indulging in the vivid fantasies that were forming in her mind at the mere idea of acting on the intense attraction that existed between them….
AS MUCH A LONER AS HE WAS, he hated eating alone.
Caleb lingered in his office after five o’clock that Friday, checking his watch and thinking about whom he could invite to dinner at such a late hour. Someone who wouldn’t expect anything beyond a good meal. He wasn’t up to anything more.
He had a couple of male colleagues he could call, but both were married. And while the thought of eating alone didn’t please him, less appealing was dining solo at a couple’s house. Especially a young couple convinced they were in love.
“Mr. Payne?”
His secretary opened the door after briefly knocking.
“I have the New York attorney for you on line one.”
Caleb looked at his watch. That would make it after 8:00 p.m. eastern time. Which was pretty much par for the course for their conversations. He didn’t hire anyone who wasn’t two hundred percent committed to their careers.
“Thank you, Nancy. Any word yet on Manolis?”
Philippidis had been avoiding his calls all day.
“No, sir. I’m still trying.”
“Thank you.”
She left the office, closing the door behind her. He turned his attention to the waiting call from his personal attorney.
How long had this case been dragging on? Two years? And the last time he checked, it was no closer to being resolved than when he originally brought the suit.
Of course, the unusual nature of his petition was partly responsible. Most courts didn’t know what to do with a thirty-two-year-old man’s request to force a DNA test. Especially when the parent in question was deceased.
“Harry,” Caleb said, picking up the extension.
“Caleb.”
He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes; he could tell by the sound of the attorney’s voice that this wasn’t going to be good.
“I’ve received an offer.”
He listened as an amount in the mid-seven digits was named.
“Are you still there?” Harry asked, reminding him that he had yet to respond.
“No.”
A slight pause and then, “No, you’re not there? Or, no, no deal?”
He sighed and sat up straighter. “This has never been about the money.”
Money he had. In spades. He’d made three times more than his father ever had by age thirty. And the Payne family was just as old and wealthy a New England clan as the Winsteads.
The thought brought his mother’s face to mind. As her only child, they’d always shared an especially close bond … drawn tighter, he suspected, by the details surrounding his birth.
He had yet to tell her he was pursuing this lawsuit; of course, that meant little—she was probably already well aware of what was going on. The upper one percent was like a small town with lots of acreage. Still, she had yet to say anything to him. He suspected she was waiting for him to come to her and allowing him to do what he needed to do.
The way he saw it, he was doing this as much for her as for himself. She’d sacrificed so much for him … surely he owed her at least the return of her good name.
“They’re anxious for you to let this go.”
Of course they were. The Winsteads didn’t want an illegitimate child to sully up the late, great Theodore Winstead’s good name.
He realized he was gritting his teeth and forced himself to stop.
“You don’t have to make a decision now. Sleep on it. I’ll call again on Monday.”
“No need,” Caleb said. “Refuse and go to the next step.”
“Will do.” Not even a hesitation.
Satisfied, he hung up the phone and sat back again, his every muscle coiled and tense.
He didn’t know how long he sat like that until there was another knock and Nancy appeared in the door.
“Any luck finding Philippidis?” he asked.
“No.”
He stared at her for minute. It was understood that when he was in the office she was to be present, as well. Unless she requested otherwise, or he dismissed her.
“These messages came in while you were on the phone.”
He rubbed his face, noting the stubble there. He’d use his en suite bathroom to shave and clean up before leaving.
He accepted the five slips of paper, leafing through them once, and then again, stopping on one in particular.
He held it up. “Is this her office number?”
“Her cell phone.”
Even better.
“Thanks, Nancy. That’ll be all. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Very good, sir. Good night.”
Caleb rounded his desk, waiting until his secretary gathered her things and left the office before sitting down and picking up the phone, dialing the number on the slip.
She picked up on the second ring.
“Our meeting was interrupted the other day. I’d like to continue it.”
He waited for Bryna Metaxas to reply. “I’d like that,” she said, a low, groin-tightening purr in her voice. “Next week?”
“A half hour. At Giorgio’s.”
HALF AN HOUR wasn’t nearly enough time for a girl to put on her evening best. But when the invitation was accepted, she was bound by business etiquette to follow through.
But as the taxi pulled up to Giorgio’s forty minutes later, Bryna knew that business had nothing to do with agreeing to meet Caleb Payne at the upscale restaurant.
She adjusted the heel strap of the gold Grecian-style sandals that Ari had brought back from Santorini for her, paid the driver and stepped out, pleasantly surprised to find Caleb waiting for her outside the doors. She’d expected him to be ensconced in one of the plush booths enjoying a drink, possibly even having ordered already.
Instead he’d waited outside.
Every sensation she’d experienced during their meeting the other day returned … tenfold. She felt…. breathless, somehow. Like he was already touching her everywhere she wanted to be touched by him. and she was responding in a greedy, uninhibited way….
Over the past couple of days, she’d tried to convince herself she was overreacting to what had really happened, imagined that he had been attracted to her, shelved any sexual notions with a Post-it that read harmless flirtation.
But now she knew she hadn’t amplified anything…. if anything, she’d downplayed it.
She walked in his direction, watching him watch her. Despite her business argument, she was dressed for sheer pleasure. There was nothing innocent about her choice of little black dress. The clingy material was too intimate, her bare shoulder moist with lotion and perfumed, her hair down from her usual twist and finger-curled around her face.
Bryna hesitated slightly as she drew near enough to speak. In the waning evening light, he looked a dangerous black figure, more shadow than light. And for reasons she was ill-prepared to identify, she felt as if she was walking into a trap. A nicely appointed trap, but one the man across from her had designed to his advantage … and one she fully intended to enter, the hell with the consequences.
Finally, she stopped in front of him, clutching her small purse. Whatever words she might have said dissolved against her dry tongue as Caleb’s gaze lingered on her legs and then slowly made its way up the snug fit of her dress until he finally looked into her eyes. Bryna jutted her chin out the tiniest bit and smiled suggestively, waiting for his thoughts, which she was sure he was about to share.
“Intriguing.”
Bryna shivered. She’d never been referred to as intriguing before; she decided she liked it. More, she was determined to prove herself exactly that.
She asked in a voice she hardly recognized, “Shall we?”
The upward quirk of the corners of his mouth made her own water. “We most definitely shall….”
4
CALEB HAD CERTAINLY KNOWN his share of women. And prided himself on being able to pigeonhole them within five minutes. Who they were. What they were after. How long their liaison would last.
But Bryna Metaxas was proving a charming enigma.
Throughout dinner she was by turns openly flirtatious and smartly businesslike depending on which way he slanted the conversation.
She even seemed to realize exactly what he was doing with each turn, a small, acknowledging smile letting him know that he wouldn’t always get his way.
Little did she know that he always got exactly that, he reflected as he sipped his post-dinner coffee.
“So, tell me, Mr. Payne. Since it’s obvious you didn’t ask me here to discuss business matters—in fact, I’m certain you haven’t even looked at the proposals I left at your office—then why did you ask?”
Direct. Fresh. Another woman might think the reason for his invitation unimportant, instead focusing on what she could gain from it. Not Bryna.
“Is it a sin to want to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman?”
She licked the side of her fork in a decidedly sexy manner that they both knew was done for reasons other than enjoyment of the slice of chocolate mousse torte she’d ordered for dessert.
“I should think you’d have at least a dozen beautiful women you could call.”
Caleb leaned back in the leather booth, his suit pants feeling tight around the crotch at the sight of her tongue darting out of her red painted lips and drawing slowly along the silver. He could think of one place in particular where he’d like to see her do that, and the idea was so tempting it was more intoxicating than the snifter of cognac he’d ordered along with his coffee.
“I could also ask why you were free on a Friday evening.” He hiked a brow. “Or did you cancel something?”
“You’re redirecting the conversation. Again.”
Caleb chuckled and narrowed his eyes as he considered her.
“Okay.” He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table between them. “I recently found myself at the end of six-month relationship,” he said. “And hadn’t thought about not having company this weekend. And, the truth is, I do not like to dine alone.”
She appeared surprised that he’d offered up what he had. She leaned forward, as well, their hands nearly meeting on the table. “I appreciate the honesty, but that still doesn’t explain why you called me.”
“I called you,” he began, turning his hands palm up, aware of the way they itched to touch her, her cheek, her neck, her breasts…. “Because I was reasonably sure that you wouldn’t sleep with me tonight.”
That apparently surprised her as she sat back. But she recovered quickly.
She didn’t appear in any hurry to offer up a response. And he liked that. Indeed, he enjoyed watching her face as she turned his explanation over in her beautiful head, her eyes growing dark, her smile provocatively sexy.
He’d bet she was slowly rubbing her foot against the calf of her other leg under the table.
“Reasonably?” she asked, her voice quiet and loaded with suggestion.
Nice. “Mmm.”
“Because?”
“Because you wouldn’t want me to get the wrong impression.”
She smiled. “Ah, because of our business connection.”
“There is no business connection.”
“Yet.”
He grinned. “Yet.”
“So you think I’m above sleeping with someone for business gain,” she said quietly, putting another forkful of torte in her mouth. A mouth that was driving him to absolute distraction.
“I think you’re very much above it.”
“And if I invited you back to my place?”
“I’d have to insist we go to mine….”
OKAY, SO HE’D CALLED her bluff.
And Bryna practically shivered from head to toe at the thought of going through with it.
It had been sweet torture sitting across from him, wanting to know more, but unable to find the words with which to ask him.
Oh, they’d talked. But she’d been too distracted by the line of his jaw … the strength of his hands … the length of his fingers … the sureness of his dark gaze to challenge him to a verbal rather than visual duel.
And now she had the chance at a physical contest.
The heat of his hand where it rested on her arm as they walked toward the restaurant door seared her bare flesh.
At the curb, a limo instantly pulled up and the driver came out to open the door for them.
If she got into that car, she knew she’d be a goner. She would be unable to stop herself from going as far as he intended to take this. And while an elemental, wild side of her was all for it, her mind cried out that it was too fast, too soon. To sleep with him would be placing the advantage in his court and swipe all the balls from hers.
Instead of entering the car, she turned toward him, finding him so close that her thigh ended up pressing against a certain, nicely rock-hard part of him. She shivered and looked up into his eyes, her hand resting against his chest.
“As tempting as the invitation is,” she whispered, her breath grazing the jaw she’d been wanted to taste all night, “I’m afraid you’re right. There’s no chance I’m going to sleep with you tonight.”
He smelled of limes and one hundred percent hot male.
She watched the corners of his mouth turn up. “Shame,” he said, his fingers brushing against her hips and then resting there, pulling her imperceptibly closer to him, crowding her against his arousal.
“Mmm,” she agreed, her heart pounding a loud rhythm in her chest.
She leaned in as if to kiss him, her gaze moving from his eyes to his mouth and back again.
She stepped back instead and waved for a taxi.
“Thank you for dinner,” she murmured.
“Thank you for the company.”
“Anytime.”
His eyes sparkled dangerously. “I might just take you up on that offer.”
She hoped he did.
SO SOFT … SO WARM …
Her body throbbed with yearning, wet, needy. She arched her back, reaching for Caleb as he leaned above her. But he always seemed just out of reach, smiling that knowing, wicked grin….
Her own moan woke her up.
Bryna rose quickly to her elbows and pushed back the tangle of hair in her eyes. She blinked her old bedroom at the Metaxas estate into view. White-curtained canopy. Pink-and-white wallpaper. A white marble fireplace. Stuffed animals stacked up in one corner.
She blew out a long breath. It had been two days since she’d said goodbye to Caleb at the restaurant, and ever since he’d haunted her dreams. Always there, always just within reach, yet outside it.
Bryna whipped the covers back and maneuvered her bare legs over the side of the bed, paying little mind that her simple cotton nightgown was bunched up around her thighs. She reached for her cell on the nightstand and clicked it open. No calls. No texts. She closed it again and put it back down and then padded across the large room toward the connecting bathroom.
Friday night it had taken all of her will after getting into that cab not to direct the driver to turn around and follow the limo instead. The reaction had surprised her. She’d never met a man who’d gotten under her skin to such a mind-robbing degree. She wanted to feel his hands on her. Wanted to put her mouth on him. Wanted to spend the night exploring the seeds of sensation their dinner together had planted in her. So much so that to prevent herself from pursuing him the next day, she’d driven back to Earnest for the night when usually she drove up Sunday morning for family brunch.
Within twenty minutes Bryna was showered and dressed in a white slacks and a purple short-sleeved blouse, no less bothered than she’d been when she’d awakened. But determined to shake off the peculiar feelings any which way she could.
She slid into her sandals and went downstairs. It was nine and brunch wasn’t until ten-thirty, but she wasn’t surprised when she found her uncle Percy and Troy already up and on the back deck enjoying coffee.
“Good morning.” She kissed her uncle on the check and squeezed her cousin’s shoulder as she passed on the way to the chair next to him.
“Well, good morning to you, too,” Percy said, folding the business section of the paper and placing it on the table. “Nice to see you here so early.”
“I actually came in last night,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“Oh? Any particular reason for that?”
Just that she couldn’t seem to get a maddening man out of her mind, that’s all. “No. Just decided I’d like to wake up at home this morning, that’s all.”
And the grand ol’ estate was that, wasn’t it? All 800 acres of land and 25,000 square feet of house. Plenty of room for them all to reside without living on top of each other.
Home. It was odd, sometimes, to think that for her it had once been a simpler place just outside Seattle. The past twelve years since her parents’ deaths, this had been where her old grade cards, school photographs and swim meet medals were stored. This sweeping mansion that sat on a hill overlooking the town of Earnest. And no matter how much she claimed independence, this was where she went when she needed to find peace. When she needed to touch base with her foundation.
And it was her uncle Percy and cousins Troy and Ari who were her immediate family. They were always there for her.
“Have you added enough sugar?” Troy asked now.
Bryna looked at where she was stirring in yet another teaspoonful. She frowned and took a sip, making a face.
“Uh-oh. Looks like man troubles to me.”
They all turned as the more outspoken of them had stepped out onto the deck.
Ari.
Bryna smiled and then grimaced. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you usually have to have a man in order for there to be any kind of trouble, don’t you?”
“Not necessarily.” Ari reached over her and plucked a grape from a bunch on a tray. “Trouble enters when you want a man you can’t have.”
Troy rustled his section of the Seattle Times. “Look who’s the expert suddenly.”
Bryna looked behind Ari. Could it be he’d come to the brunch alone this week? She knew a spot of hope.
Then Elena came outside, apologizing for her delay. “I’m not even showing yet, but I swear my bladder is the size of a pea.”
Bryna frowned as she watched the other woman greet her uncle the same way she had and then say good morning to Troy, who actually grinned at her.
Where was the animosity? The anger?
Oh, well. It looked as if the job would have to fall to her. When the other woman took the chair next to her, Bryna focused solely on her coffee.
Even she admitted to being surprised at her reaction to her cousin’s intended … especially since Elena was pregnant with what they all hoped would be the first of the next Metaxas generation. But so much had been riding on that deal with Philippidis. To just throw it all away because of a woman was unthinkable to her.
She frowned. If only Elena would have kept her legs closed, and her hand on her ex-groom’s arm, right now the first production line would be running and the second would be under construction, employing at least two hundred of the town’s hurting residents.
The thought made her mind drift back to Caleb and her own conflicted feelings for him.
Of course, the difference lay in that she wasn’t engaged to marry someone else so no one would be hurt if things spiraled out of control and then went south.
She swallowed hard.
Other than herself, that is….
5
WAS IT TIME YET?
Caleb looked at his watch as the presentation dragged on. There were ten men in the room for the weekly Wednesday meeting that had been scheduled for that morning, then delayed until afternoon because Manolis Philippidis was late flying in.
He glanced at the modern-day Greek tycoon at the end of the table. Manolis held a small coffee cup in his meaty fingers, his dark eyes on the acquisitions head who was talking about the pros and cons of buying a small business out of Minnesota that made public buses that ran on natural gas.
The new business was green business.
He looked at his watch again.
“Are we keeping you from something, Caleb?” Manolis asked, interrupting the speaker.
He sat back, grinning easily. “No. Not at all.”
“Perhaps we’re boring you, then?”
Caleb’s smile grew tight.
It was well-known that there was no love lost between the two men. Which was why Caleb had never worked directly for him. Would never hand that kind of power to a man who would just as soon fire you as look at you.
No. Caleb liked that he was a well-paid consultant to the company. A very well-paid consultant. Which sometimes required him to sit through trying meetings that had nothing to do with him. And suffer a man who was otherwise insufferable.
“To the contrary. I was thinking about the three other more viable gas-powered bus ventures that are looking for investors rather than to be bought outright.” He raised a brow. “Would you like me to continue? Or shall we get back to the meeting agenda?”
As expected, Manolis glowered at him, finished off his coffee and then looked at his own watch. “I believe this meeting is concluded.”
If there was one man who hated wasting time as much as Caleb it was Philippidis.
The Greek stood and everyone else at the table hurried to do the same. All but for Caleb, who took his time getting to his feet.
He extended his hand toward Manolis, who shook it. “You have information on these other companies? “
“I sent proposals to the ventures head a month ago.”
Manolis nodded. “Let him know I want to hear more about them at next month’s meeting.”
“Very well.”
The other man straightened his tailor-made suit jacket as if having just made an important decision and muttered his goodbyes before leaving the room.
Caleb followed him out, heading directly for his own office.
“Has …” he began as he neared Nancy’s desk.
She interrupted. “Miss Metaxas is waiting in your office, as you directed, sir.”
The sun had just emerged from the heavy gray clouds.
BRYNA READ THE SPINES of the books in the cases that lined Caleb’s office. Business tomes were interspaced with leather-bound classic fiction novels and philosophy titles. She wondered if he’d read them or if they’d come by way of a professional decorator. He was, after all, a consultant with the Philippidis company, meaning this wasn’t his permanent office, but rather a temporary one.
But how temporary? How many years had he been working with him?
She moved down the bookcase, squinting to read the script on a recognition-of-excellence plaque that had been propped against the books.
She looked around. There were no photographs, personal or professional. It seemed to her that everything was purposely displayed to reveal very little about the office’s inhabitant beyond his power and success.
She’d moved to where she could see behind his desk and now looked over her shoulder, eyeing the drawers there.
The door opened and she jumped.
Caleb seemed to take in the situation in one glance. He slowly closed the door even as Bryna walked to the visitor’s side of the desk.
“Nice to see you again, Miss Metaxas,” he said in that low, deep way he had of speaking.
She cleared her throat. “The pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Payne.”
He stood looking at her for a moment, not long, but long enough to encourage that longing to wend through her veins anew.
“We’ll see,” he said, but whether it was a threat or a promise, she didn’t know.
He walked toward his chair.
Did he know what effect he had on her? She’d offer an unqualified yes. He gave the impression of being a man who was aware of everyone and everything in any room he inhabited. And likely commanded the gazes of every female within a half-mile radius, along with a majority of men if just from sheer envy.
“I was pleased when you called for this appointment,” she said. “Would you like to go over the proposals?”
He opened the right desk drawer, watching her face as he did so. “Only one of them has possibilities.”
“Oh? Which?”
“The second.”
She smiled.
“That’s the one you intended me to choose.”
“It’s the one I’d hoped you’d choose.”
Of the three, the proposal was the most solid and followed the basic tenets of the original, only scaled down. Instead of four production lines, they’d begin with one. Rather than go whole hog, she proposed starting with a limited offering. Troy’s plans were large, ambitious, much like her cousin himself. But as she’d tried without success to explain to him, perhaps it was better to start small with the potential to grow than big with the possibility of failure … if he succeeded in selling the grand idea at all….
Caleb walked to a polished table near the window that held four chairs. He put the proposal in question down. “There are a number of things we need to reconfigure.”
Bryna followed him and pulled out the chair next to the one he stood behind. But he didn’t sit. Instead, he shrugged out of his jacket, hung it on a hanger inside a door that she suspected led to a full bathroom, and then undid his cufflinks, sliding them into his pockets before rolling up his sleeves.
Her mouth went dry. Even though he was going for comfort, he still looked more elegant than any man she’d ever seen. And that was saying something because her cousins weren’t exactly slouches when it came to the man department.
He’d begun talking, presumably about the proposal, but Bryna couldn’t make a word out. Her ears had stopped accepting input as her heart rate sped up. She was too caught up watching him take off his tie and undo his top three buttons. His waist was narrow where his Egyptian broadcloth shirt was tucked into his slacks, the belt further emphasizing the difference from his wide chest and shoulders.
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Tori Carrington
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Private Sessions, электронная книга автора Tori Carrington на английском языке, в жанре современные любовные романы