Beneath the Surface (7 page)

To divert his train of thought, he called Dale a cab before starting to make coffee. It took a minute or two for the deep, rich scent to the fill the room. He breathed in deep, enjoying the aroma. Three days ago his world had been flipped upside down. Dale Porter had wobbled into his office and caused nothing but chaos since. Kyran still didn’t have the slightest idea how he was going to deal with it. Not usually the kind of man who could wing it, he found himself acting on instinct rather than planning each interaction. That was why he’d reach for her one moment, and yet pushed her away the next.

Kyran was at war with himself.

“I have
got
to get me one of those showers!” Dale shouted in excitement as she closed the bathroom door.

“Coffee?” he asked, leaving her outburst unacknowledged.

Walking over to him, she hopped up onto a stool at the kitchen island.

With her face scrubbed clean of makeup and her damp hair pulled off her face, she looked no older than a teenager. The woman was enchanting in ways he couldn’t afford.

“Love some, but I should go. Work.”

“I think I have a to-go mug somewhere.” He opened a cabinet and started to search.

“No, it’s fine. I can get one when I’m all set up at my desk.”

They walked together to the door; he placed his hand on the base of her spine. He wasn’t even aware of the touch until she turned to face him.

His body always betrayed him.

“I guess I’ll speak to you later—at work, I mean.” She tugged the oversized sweater further down her thighs, covering herself from his hungry eyes, no doubt.

“Meetings.” He shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll see the light of day for a while.”

“Oh. What will you say about the bruises?”

“Fuck knows. I’ll think of something, and I’d appreciate it if you remember I don’t want Taylor finding out. About any of it.”

“He won’t.” Dale rummaged through her purse, smiling as she pulled out a thin, shiny tube along with a compact. “I could make the bruises less noticeable. If you wanted.”

“Makeup?” She popped the lid off the tube, lifting it toward his face.

Kyran backed up. “I don’t wear makeup.”

“Of course you don’t, but you don’t want Taylor to see them, so what other option is there?”

Kyran grew quiet as he weighed up his choices. “I need to shower. It’ll wash off.”

“I could leave them here. All you need to do is dab the liquid on the bruise, then cover with a fine layer of the powder.”

“That’s all you do?”

“Yup. It’s very easy. Us girls do it all the time.”

“So it seems. Again, I’m in your debt.”

“I like that,” she responded with a grin, flattening her palm on his chest. “Thanks for the couch. It was fun.”

Chuckling, Kyran shook his head. “You have a warped view of fun.”

“I guess.” Elevating herself on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. Her scent hit him like a lightning bolt, but it was all wrong. The shower had taken away her smooth vanilla smell. “Bye, Kyran.”

He blinked and Dale had gone. The click of the front door closing echoed far louder than it actually was. Just like the beat of his erratic heart.

Kyran kept a low profile for the following week, much to Dale’s displeasure. She settled into her role as Taylor’s assistant but was always on the lookout for his brother. When messages or files needed to be sent to Kyran’s office, Dale would be at the front of the line—even more so when they needed to be hand delivered. However, each time she came back disappointed. His assistant always took them, or he was out of the office.

Kyran hadn’t completely ignored her. The day after she’d spent the night with him, a long, thin box arrived at her desk. An elegant silver satin bow decorated the center and kept the box closed. She’d stared at it for at least ten minutes before opening the card.

Two words stood out in dark, bold script on the thick, white card.

Thank you
.

The butterflies in her stomach started doing the samba as she pulled on the ribbon. She lifted off the lid and stared at the single, white orchid nestled between folds of lilac tissue paper. Her ex would never have been so thoughtful, nor would he have thanked her for anything. The flower had only come from one person. Kyran.

After rifling through the tissue paper, she’d found the cosmetics she’d loaned him but no additional note. It left her deflated, even though Kyran had gone to the trouble of arranging the flower. She’d expected more.

She shouldn’t have.

He was her boss, and she should remember that. Already she knew too much about him—information that his own brother didn’t know. She would keep her promise no matter what happened. He’d trusted her with his secret, and she wouldn’t betray that trust or him. So she decided to move on, chalk their attraction up to what could have been. She sucked at relationships anyway. Joel had been proof of that.

“Meeting with Mr. Highly Strung in thirty minutes,” Taylor said, breaking into her daydream as he leaned against her desk. “Can you get some coffee and sandwiches? I think it’s going to be a long one.”

“What makes you think that?”

“No meeting is complete without Kyran reaming me for something.

He’s never happy.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case,” she said, picking up her cell and purse.

“What can I get you?”

Taylor ran his fingers through his dark hair, slicking it back. He shot her a cocky smirk. “That, Dale, is a loaded question.”

The man was an incredible flirt. He came on to the receptionists, too.

Dale didn’t take any of it seriously. He was just as handsome as Kyran, but Taylor had a much more casual appearance. His hair fell into his eyes, and his suit looked far cheaper in quality than his brother’s. But he did wear it well.

Taylor was so laid back he was almost horizontal. The men were so different, complete contrasts of one another. Maybe their differences caused the friction or maybe there was something more.

“Any question is loaded around you. Do you ever have a normal conversation with a woman? One where you don’t flirt?”

Shooting her an uneasy glance, Taylor helped ease her purse onto her shoulder. His hand lingered. “I’m just having fun with you. I’m not harassing you or anything.”

Stepping back, Dale’s breath hitched. Taylor’s words reminded her of the ones Kyran had muttered in the elevator. She’d been pressed against the wall, responding to his slow, deliberate seduction. Recalling it caused her skin to flush. She didn’t want to give the wrong signals to Taylor. He wasn’t the Reese she found appealing. He didn’t even come close.

“You get that, don’t you? I didn’t touch you . . . in that way, right?”

Something in his tone didn’t sit well with Dale. He looked scared, worried about her reaction. Oddly anxious and in need of fresh air, she asked him again what he needed from the store and left before Taylor could say another word about their interaction.

****************

Dale didn’t rush while getting the refreshments. Her talk with Taylor had left her a bit uneasy. Something about him worried her. She wondered if it would be rude to ask Taylor outright why he’d reacted the way he did. She doubted he’d answer her, so that left Kyran. It was worth a try, though again, she knew he’d be reluctant to part with the information. After collecting the food and coffee, she made her way back to the office.

Work wasn’t the best place to ask Kyran as she was certain he’d rebuff her because it wasn’t work related. Learning from previous conversations, she decided talking to him out of the office would be best. She could, of course, be overthinking Taylor’s behavior. Dale had always thought she was good at reading people. Until she started working for the Reese brothers. At that point, her world had been tipped upside down in more ways than one.

Trusting her gut, she weighed her options. Her only alternatives were Metro or going directly to Kyran’s apartment. Neither was appealing.

Kyran would probably close the door in her face if she turned up at his home asking questions about his brother.

Metro would be the less destructive of the two. He couldn’t very well slam the door closed there, and she had the support of Trace, should anything get out of hand. Not that she expected it to. Kyran wouldn’t want to draw attention.

Dale kept telling herself the sole reason she wanted to see Kyran was to talk about Taylor, but she was in deep denial.

Walking into the building, she noticed the elevator doors were starting to close. Dale rushed forward, shouting, “Hold the door!”

Coffee bubbled through the holes of the coffee-cup lids, splashing against the thin skin of her hand. Cringing, she continued to race for the elevator. Her heels slipped on the tile floor, causing more coffee to slosh out and burn her hand further.

“Shit. Oh, shit.” She gasped at the discomfort. “Fuck, that hurts.”

Stepping into the elevator, Dale blew on her tender skin, trying not to tip the coffee cups. She turned to face the doors, not even glancing at the other occupant. “Thanks for holding the door.”

The button for her floor was already illuminated, so Dale took the time to check how badly she’d burned her hand.

“Would you like me to kiss the boo-boo better?”

The tingling started at the base of her spine, working its way up until it reached her nape. Goose bumps broke out on her arms at the same time her skin heated.

“Good morning, Kyran,” she said, trying to ignore her body’s instant reaction to him.

“Good morning. Now answer my question,” he whispered in her ear and smoothed his hand over her hip.

“No.”

He rested his chin on her shoulder while still stroking up her side underneath the jacket of her suit.

“No?”

Unable to shove him away with hands, she pushed her ass out, using every ounce of strength she had. Kyran gave a “humph,” stepping backward as Dale spun to face him.

“You know, Kyran, I’d be a little more receptive if you actually spoke to me more than once a week.”

The tremble in her hand filtered all the way to the coffee cups and caused them to shake. It hurt that he’d ignored her all week and yet now acted as though it was yesterday and not a week ago that they woke up on his couch together.

Kyran reared back in laughter. “Are you pissed at me, Dale?”

Responding with a huge dose of sarcasm, she said, “Oh, no. Not at all.”

“Liar.”

“What do you want from me?”

Kyran lifted a coffee from her hand, checking the label for its contents before shooting her a wicked smile. “My coffee.”

Growling in frustration, Dale turned back to face the doors just as they reached their destination. She stormed away as soon as the doors opened, determined to get as far from him as she could.

“Ms. Porter,” he called after her.

She continued to put some distance between them, taking the remaining refreshments into the boardroom. There were no signs of Taylor, even though this was the correct room for his meeting.

The door clicked closed behind her. “Taylor isn’t here,” Kyran said.

“Oh, damn,” she cursed, placing the coffee and paper sandwich bag on the table.

Kyran took a sip from the cardboard cup he’d taken from her in the elevator. “He called me after he sent you for food. He’ll be arriving late to the meeting
he
organized. Apparently, he needs to pick something up from his apartment.” He rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but I invariably am. His incompetency scales new heights on a daily basis.”

“You’re rather harsh.”

“No,” he replied, walking around the large table and closer to her.

“He’s a liability. Our father was delusional when he gave us equal rights within the corporation.”

Given the opening she needed, Dale asked, “What’s the issue with him? You guys looked like you got along well on my first day.”

“Looks are very, very deceiving, Ms. Porter.” He lifted her hand, stroking his thumb across the red, burned skin.

“I thought we’d finished with the
Ms. Porter
,
Mr. Reese
stuff.”

“We’re in the workplace. I feel those names are wise.”

She swallowed, asking, “What if we weren’t?”

Kyran’s thumb stopped its slow caress, his green eyes flaring. He wrapped his hand gently around her wrist while placing his drink down on the table with his other hand. Her breathing grew shallow, and she would bet Kyran could feel her pulse throbbing against his fingers.

“Then you’d be Dale and I’d still be Mr. Reese.”

“So you can be amusing.”

“You think I’m joking?” He tightened his hold on her wrist.

“Yes,” she replied, although not certain that he had been. “I would never call you
Mr. Reese
while being . . . together.”

“We’ll see. You should never say you won’t do something. I take that as a challenge. And I love challenges, Ms. Porter.”

Nervous laughter bubbled up as she tried to loosen his hold. “I bet you do. But you never answered my question.”

“I didn’t?”

“You keep doing that—answering my questions with one of your own.

It’s annoying.”

Kyran placed his index finger underneath her chin and lifted her head slightly. When she looked into his eyes, she almost lost all logic. The desire that clouded his eyes left her fumbling for words.

“I suppose we both have questions that require answers.”

“So answer mine about your brother. What’s going on with you and Taylor?”

Kyran stiffened as he slipped his hand along her jaw to cup the back of her head. She gave a soft sigh, one she hadn’t intended on expelling.

“I do believe I have already answered that one. Taylor is a mess. He doesn’t pull his weight around here, and he continues to be an embarrassment to the family.”

“Was he always like this? Did something happen?”

“We’re wasting time,” Kyran said, dodging her questions yet again.

He drew Dale closer, threading his fingers into her hair as he tilted her head to the side. He licked his lips and brought his mouth close to hers.

Close enough for her to feel each heated breath he took. Close enough to heighten every one of her senses. Close enough to drive her insane.