Ash to Steele (13 page)

   “This is your first endeavor?” Elise asks, her eyes brightening wickedly. 

   Cursing my lack of having the deft ability to be vague like Breck, I force a smile, “Officially, yes.”

   “Do the members or the partners know you are only an amateur?” Elise drawls out the last word for spite.

   “I have no idea.  Does it matter?” I counter, wondering if this could cause problems for Breck.

   “I guess not for the new line, but it will be interesting news to some of the partners since they already feel Breck is not qualified for the position, including my father,” Elise gleams.

   “That must make your juices flow even hotter for him, Elise,” Lisa laughs.

    I’ve seen women like Elise in movies and read about them in books but it is hard to imagine a grown woman going after a man just to make her father mad.  I’m sure by the looks of Breck that there are other enticing reasons to pursue him, but Elise seems to find her father’s distaste an added bonus. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. 

   “So, what is your
real
job?” Elise smiles in mock sweetness.

   “I work at Shallonelles,” I respond, finding it more difficult to be near her with each passing second. 

   “A paper girl.  How charming,” Elise cracks.

   Part of me wants to slap her snide smile off her pretty little face, but my father’s words about being the bigger person enters my mind, soothing me and causing me to miss him at the same time.  Prestige means nothing to him, but doing the right thing means everything. Although he’s not perfect, he does his best at practicing what he preaches.  I wonder if he would feel the same when faced by a group of piranhas in Gucci heels?  Taking a deep breath, I know he would.  “Excuse me.”

   Gulping the last sip of my champagne, I place it on the tray when a waiter walks by, thanking him when he hands me another glass.  I glance around the room and it takes a few seconds before I spot Breck talking with a stunning brunette in the corner.  Another stab of the hateful emotion hits me.  Fidgeting with the stem of the champagne glass, I remind myself that it doesn’t matter who he converses with, it’s none of my concern.  Well, it’s none of my business, anyway. 

   “He is quite the ladies man isn’t he?” a man with distinguished salt and pepper hair states, tilting his glass of spirits towards Breck’s direction.

   Not knowing how or wanting to respond, I just smile politely. 

   “I’m Dalton Frasier, a partner with Dur Acier.”

   “Emma Jones, nice to meet you, Mr. Fraiser.”

   “I saw you arrive with Mr. Steele,” Mr. Fraiser states, his eyes roaming over me with a look that sends an uncomfortable chill shooting up my spine. 

   “I came for a presentation,” I reply, feeling the need to clarify my being here.

   “A lovely presentation, I’m sure,” he says, his eyes continuing their lewd journey over the length of my body.

   “It was nice meeting you,” I nod, stepping away.

   A hand on my elbow stops me.  “You’ll be wise to stay away from Breck Steele.  He’s a loose cannon and inexperienced in any business other than his restaurant. He can’t handle the big league. Breck will tarnish your reputation in more ways than one.” Mr. Frasier pauses, the carnal look in his eyes leaving nothing to the imagination, “If he hasn’t already.” 

Mr. Fraiser tries to pull me closer to him, but I won’t budge, so he takes a step closer to me.  He leans close to my ear as I try to pull away, but his grip is too strong, “If you are looking for a quick climb up the ladder, I’ll be happy to help you out.” 

Chapter Seven
 

Impossible, Stubborn Brat!

Breck

The daughter of one of my grandfather’s board members is talking incessantly about her college studies abroad as I try to act as if I care about anything she’s saying while I look for Emma.  The feeling of pride at how she nailed the presentation bursts inside of me, leaving me shocked, disconcerted. 

   Being with her last night left me in a state of unwelcome confusion.  The first time I saw her standing in the Dark Hole, my intention was precise, ravish her beautiful body for a few amazing hours and nothing more.  Now, I crave her body more than ever, but she leaves me craving something more, something I don’t want to crave.  Something I have no right to crave. 

   Watching her with Elise was amusing.  That bitch can be ruthless, but Emma seemed to be holding her own, deepening my pride.  Feeling like I should give Emma a reprieve, I glance around the room for Elise and her flock of vultures.  Elise spots me, flashing a come-hither smile.  I look past her, unable to spot Emma. 

   Giving an excuse, I leave the babbling brunette to inflict her ramblings on someone else.  The disappointment in her eyes shows me the real reason she sought me out.  Another shock simmers through me at how I didn’t get hard looking at her ample breasts boasting on display in her short, tight dress.  Finally seeing Emma, I can no longer make that claim.  My zipper becomes tighter with a painful twitch at the sight of Emma in a considerably more modest dress, but, somehow, looking immensely sexier.  She’s fidgeting with her necklace before she begins fidgeting with her champagne glass. 

   Deciding she’s had enough practice for one night, I head her way, but the brunette has other plans as she steps in front of me.  Taking a more direct approach this time, she bites her lip as she runs her hand down the front of my tux.  “I’ve heard all about you and your talents.” Her hand slips a little lower, “I’m very interested in personally experiencing what I’ve heard.”

   “I didn’t come here alone tonight.  Besides, you should never trust rumors,” I reply, letting her down easy as I look over her shoulder.  Any other night, I would have obliged her offer, finding the nearest room and fucking her until I proved the truth behind the rumors I’m sure she’s heard since I don’t do anything to hide the fact that I like women. A lot of women. 

   It hits me that, tonight, she, and the rest of them, do nothing for me.  Except Emma. The way she smiled last night, how she looked wrapped in my blazer staring out into the rain flashes through my mind, and everything inside of me tenses at the realization that Emma’s getting to me,
changing
me.  I won’t let that happen. 

  Needing to get Emma so I can take her home and leave her there, riots inside me as I quicken my stride. Fraiser steps next to Emma, fucking her with his eyes, and anger blazes as I move faster.  She turns to leave, invoking another dose of pride, but the bastard grabs her elbow, keeping her there.  I don’t know what he’s saying to her, but by the look on her face, I have an idea. 

   “I won’t be climbing anyone’s
ladder
, Mr. Fraiser,” I hear Emma hiss as she yanks her arm from his grasp.  “And, you’re wrong about Breck.  From what I’ve seen so far, he seems to be handling things just fine.”

   Stepping in between Emma and Fraiser, I notice Emma blush when she realizes that I heard her.  Taking in her rigid stance and her quickened breathing, my concern intensifies.   “Are you alright?” I ask before turning towards Fraiser, the warning in my eyes clear as he takes a step away from me.

   “I’m fine,” Emma lies, “it was just a misunderstanding.”

   “If he was inappropriate with you in any way, Emma, tell me.  I will take care of him,” I assure her, knowing Fraiser can hear every word.

   Emma meets my gaze, confusion clouding her blue eyes.  Her voice is calmer when she lies to me again, insisting everything’s fine. 

   Stepping towards Fraiser, I grab his arm, squeezing it like a vise as I lean in close, so only he can hear the promise of painful retribution, “I don’t give a damn if you don’t like me, but you keep your issues with me between us.  I don’t know what you said to Emma, but if you upset or touch her again, I will rip you apart and I don’t just mean financially.”

   Fraiser swallows hard as he takes a few more steps back.  Releasing his arm, I know I’ve left a mark that will remind him of this conversation for a few days. 

   Gently taking Emma’s elbow, I do a quick visual exam, making sure Fraiser’s grip didn’t leave a mark on her.  If it did, I would beat the hell out of him right now, but, thankfully, no blemishes appear on her soft, smooth skin.  “Let’s say our good-byes so we can put tonight behind us.”

   Sadness flashes through her eyes before she quickly looks away. 

   “Are you sure you are alright, Emma?”

   Nodding her head, she takes a shaky sip of her champagne before putting the glass down.  “Take me home.”

   Suddenly, I don’t want to take her home.  I want to spend the rest of the night with her, doing whatever she wants to do, even looking at paintings from people who have been dead for ages. Swearing softly under my breath, I let go of her, trying to let go of this trance she has me in. 

   Reiterating my decision, I remind myself that I
will
take her home, and I
will
be done with her.  Quickening my pace, she has to rush to catch up as I disregard the need of polite pleasantries being exchanged before leaving.  Her words to Frasier ring in my head.  I don’t need her defending me from whatever she was defending me from.  I don’t want to need anything from her. 

   “Are you leaving?” Elise’s voice carries through the foyer. 

   Groaning, I turn around, finding her scurrying after me as Emma is glancing at the paintings on the wall I never had the chance to show her.  “It’s late.  Emma has to work in the morning.”

   “At the paper?” Elise asks, not trying to hide her catty tone. 

   Emma fidgets with her necklace again.  “No.  I also work at a gallery,” Emma’s voice is a little soft, but her gaze is steady, not breaking Elise’s for one second. 

   Another shot of pride hits me. 
Damn
.

   “Oh.  Well, everyone has to start somewhere.”

   Emma’s fingers close around the star charm on her gold necklace.  She remains quiet, but her gaze never falters.

   “Where did you get your necklace?” Elise asks, pointing at the charm squeezed tightly between Emma’s fingers.  “It’s…
sweet
.  Not what I would’ve chosen for a black tie affair, but to each his own, I suppose,” Elise finishes, twirling her hand that is extravagantly adorned with several diamonds between the ring on her finger and the bracelet on her wrist.

   “It was my mother’s,” Emma declares proudly, and I want to kiss her. 

   The urge to pull her into my arms and push her against the wall, devouring her lips with mine, not giving a damn who’s watching, is overwhelming. 

   Elise opens her mouth for what I’m sure is another bitchy remark, but I grab Emma’s coat, thrusting it at her before turning towards Elise.  “Good night,” I state firmly.

   Taking my umbrella from the valet, I cover Emma’s head as we walk the few feet to where the valet left the car and I open her door, ushering her inside.  My head begins an annoying thud as I struggle against the unwanted urges Emma elicits, tugging at my heart and swelling another part of me into a throbbing shaft of unfulfilled need.

   “Why didn’t you tell me that you work in a restaurant that you
own
?” Emma asks, her voice soft, free of accusation, when I slip behind the driver’s wheel.

   “I’m a private person, Emma.  I don’t like people knowing anything about my personal life,” I reply coldly, making me feel like the bastard I am. 

   “People,” she whispers, pain lacing her words.  “Sorry, I guess I was under the impression that I didn’t fall into such a general category with you any longer.  I thought we were becoming friends.”

   Friends? Doesn’t she realize that I want so much more than that?  And that want of mine that intensifies every time I see her is exactly why I need to end this.  Now.  I’m sorry that I’m about to hurt her.  I am, which prompts me to do it quickly.  Staring at the road, trying to navigate the next turn in the pouring rain, I keep my gaze straight ahead, hating myself as I tell her, “I needed a logo for Dur Acier.  You did an excellent job designing one, that’s all.  I’m sure I’ll see you around sometime at the Dark Hole because you’re friends with Jess, but, no, we’re not friends.  I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”

   An ache radiates through my heart when Emma’s gaze falls.  A few torturous seconds pass as I wait for her reaction.

   “Stop the car,” she states so quietly, I’m not sure I heard her correctly. 

   “What?”

   “Stop the car! I’ll take a cab home.”

  Turning towards her, I’m surprised by the anger in her voice.  I expected her to be a little huffy, shed a couple of tears maybe, but not angry. “I picked you up, I will take you home, Emma.”

   “I said to stop the car!”

   I’ve never heard her so mad before.  I find it amusing, and a little heart wrenching, at how sexy she looks with her lips pressed tightly together and her arms folded defiantly across her chest.  “It will take forever for you to get a cab here, and, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s pouring rain and freezing.”

   “I don’t care,” she replies flippantly.

   “I’m not leaving you on the middle of the street, Emma,” I tell her, my voice rising at her stubbornness. 

   Slowing the car at a red light, I turn to tell her that I will get her home as quickly as possible, but Emma throws open her door and jumps onto the street, in the pouring rain. 

   “Are you kidding me?” I yell after her.

   Her response is slamming my door, loudly. 

   Throwing the car into park, I get out, yelling, “Get back into the car right now, Emma!”

   “No!”

   “Dammit, Emma, I’m not playing with you, get your ass in the car!”

   Emma doesn’t reply, she just quickens her pace as I stare after her in disbelief.  A car honks its horn behind me as I realize the light has turned green. 
Shit
.

   Throwing the car into drive, I follow slowly beside her, ignoring the blaring horns.  “Get in the car,” I coax, trying to get her out of the cold rain.

  Completely ignoring me, Emma crosses her arms tighter around her chest, continuing to look straight ahead as she maintains her steadfast pace. 

   Gritting my teeth, I pull closer to her, “I said get your stubborn ass in the car!”

   Finally acknowledging my presence again, she gives me a lethal glare, “NO!”

   Horns honk behind me as I follow behind Emma, looking like a complete fool.

   “That’s it,” I yell, slamming on the brake and shoving the car into park, “if you want to be a brat, I’ll treat you like a brat.”  Stepping out of the car, I grind my jaw at the freezing temperature of the pouring rain pelting down mercilessly as I catch up to her, ignoring the honking horns and people on the sidewalks watching us like we are insane, “Get in the car right now, or I’ll tan your behind!”

   The blaring indignation in her eyes at my empty threat makes me want to laugh, but I keep my face stern. 

   Taking a menacing step towards me, she juts her chin out, “The hell you will!”

   “Your father shouldn’t have spared the rod so much with you,” I continue to torture her, loving every second that her beautiful cheeks flame scarlet despite the cold winter air.  “You’d think by him being a preacher and all, he’d know that.”

   Balling her fists into tight knots, I can tell that she’s having to force herself not to hit me, “Who in the hell do you think you are?”

   “Two cuss words in less than a minute, he’d be so disappointed in you.” It’s obvious that her thinning restraint is about to snap, so I grab her arm, pulling her towards the vehicle, “Get in now, or everyone on the street is going to see your beautiful ass.”

   Her mouth gapes open at my crude audacity as she tries to pull away from me, stopping only when my grip tightens, and I go to pull up her dress.

    “Stop!  I’ll go!” She yells, grabbing her dress and smoothing it down. The flush on her cheeks is flaming as she reluctantly gets back into the car. 

   Sighing at how the Italian leather seats are now soaked, Emma smirks, seemingly pleased at that fact.

   “What the hell were you thinking to get out of the car at night, in the pouring rain, when there’s not a cab in sight?”

   Silence greets me.

   Giving a discreet sideways glance, I find her shivering uncontrollably, but I’m not so sure that it’s entirely from the cold.  It’s clear that my threat infuriated her.  Turning the heat up a notch, I drive as Emma sits in silence, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her back straight and rigid as she refuses to look my way.