Blown Away (8 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Douglas

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #series, #next generation, #nashville nights, #cheryl douglas, #country music, #billionaire

BOOK: Blown Away
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“Incredible.”
He bared his teeth. “You’re enjoying this power trip, aren’t
you?”

“Touch me.”

“No.”

Her breath
tripped when she spotted the smug satisfaction in his eyes as he
laced his hands behind his head. “Excuse me?”

“Not until you
promise you won’t play these games again.”

He had gall,
not that she was surprised. He was used to getting whatever he
wanted, whenever he wanted it. She had to teach him a lesson about
turnabout and fair play. “Like hell.” She braced her hands on his
chest and eased off of him.

“Don’t even
think about it.” He grabbed her waist and flipped her on her back
as he mounted her. “Neither of us are leaving this room until we’re
both satisfied. It may take days.”

Ava couldn’t
ignore the sensation prompted by his deep penetration. A decade was
a long time. She’d had other lovers since she gave Brent her
innocence, but none had given her the same indescribable sense of
fulfillment, of completion.

“I’ve seen you
like this a hundred times, when I wake up or I’m on the verge of
falling asleep.” He framed her face with his hands as his body
worked its magic to bring her back to the time and place it all
began. She closed her eyes and let his words seep into her
soul.

His body moved
so slowly, so gently, as though he wanted to prolong the experience
as long as he could. “Sometimes when I’m in the middle of a crazy
day and everything’s going wrong, I close my eyes to see your smile
and hear your laughter, and it eases my stress.”

His quiet
admission twisted around her heart. He’d thought of her over the
years, perhaps as often as she’d thought of him. Maybe she’d given
herself to the right man the very first time. The room filled with
the sounds of their bodies coming together, passionate kisses,
whispered moans and pleas, and finally Ava’s release followed by
his.

The last words
she heard before she drifted off were, “I’m still crazy about you,
Ava.”

 

Chapter
Four

When Brent woke up
with Ava’s warm body curled around his, he realized he could get
used to that.

She moaned
before pressing a kiss to his chest. “I should make us some
breakfast and hit the shower. I have a busy day and I’m sure you do
too.”

Suddenly
mergers, takeovers, and acquisitions didn’t sound as appealing as
lying there and wasting the day away with her. “I can spare another
hour.” He grinned when she lifted her head. “Or two.”

“You may be
able to,” she said, slapping his chest, “but I can’t. I don’t have
hundreds of people to pick up the slack when I’m not there.”

He twisted a
strand of long blond hair around his finger and asked, “How many
employees do you have?”

“Four.” She
traced the dusting of hair on his chest. “Vivian is my
receptionist, Tara’s my marketing and P.R. person, Harold’s my I.T.
guy, and Heather handles accounting and bookkeeping. I deal with
all of the clients personally.”

“Harold, huh?
What’s his deal?” Brent knew he was doing a terrible job concealing
his jealous streak, but he hadn’t come so far to risk losing
her.

Ava giggled.
“He’s fifty four and just became a grandfather for the first
time.”

“Perfect.”

“You’re too
much.” She trailed her fingernails over his ribcage.

“So, how about
dinner tonight? I’ve got a meeting at six, but I could pick you up
by eight.”

“I can’t. I
have plans.”

His whole body
tensed and his hand stilled on her back. “What do you mean, you
have plans? With who?”

“I’m having
dinner with a client.”

“What the hell
does that mean?” He lowered his voice when he realized he was on
the verge of shouting. “You date your clients?”

“Don’t be
ridiculous. Of course not.”

“Then why are
you going out with--”

She cut him off
as she sat up and reached for the robe at the foot of her bed. “My
clients are busy people. They often have to combine business and
pleasure. Sometimes I meet them outside of my office for a status
report.”

“What do you
mean ‘a status report’?” He was getting a headache and it wasn’t
even seven a.m. That woman would be the death of him.

“I like getting
a first-hand account of whether their dates were successful or not.
I need to know what they liked or didn’t like about the dates I
selected for them so I can find a better match next time.”

“Let me get
this straight,” he said, watching her slip into her soft, pink,
silk robe and tighten the sash. “You’re going out with a good
looking, single, rich guy who’s looking for a life partner?”

She padded
barefoot into the walk-in closet. “That pretty much sums it
up.”

“No way.”

She glared at
him as she folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I
don’t recall asking for your permission. You asked if I could go
out with you tonight. I said no. End of discussion.”

He watched her
walk down the hall and cursed as he jumped up to pull on his pants.
“We’re not finished. I said you’re not--” He stopped himself just
before the words slipped out. If he started issuing orders, she
would tell him to get the hell out and not come back.

Sitting on the
edge of the bed, he glanced at the rumpled sheets. They’d made love
several times during the night, and every time, he lost a little
more of his heart. He couldn’t lose her, but if he didn’t get a
handle on his possessiveness, he would. How could he feel secure in
a relationship that made him more susceptible to heartbreak than
he’d ever been?

He took a few
deep breaths before heading down the hall. “Do you mind telling me
who your client is?” he asked when he found her in the kitchen.

“I can’t,
sorry. Confidentiality.” She pointed to a carafe of fresh coffee.
“Help yourself.”

He didn’t want
coffee. He wanted answers, but he couldn’t push too hard, so he
decided to change the subject. “You like coffee now?”

Ava wrinkled
her nose. “You corrupted me.” Shooting him a side-long glance, she
said, “I can’t drink a good cup of coffee without having flashbacks
of that night.”

Coming up
behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her
neck as he watched her slide the spatula under a ham and cheese
omelet. “Tell me more.”

“Your ego’s big
enough already.”

He smirked. She
wasn’t the first person to tell him that, but normally only his
brother got away with it. “I don’t want you to go out with some
other guy tonight.”

She sighed as
she reached overhead to grab two plates. “It’s just business.”

“Does he know
that?”

“He already
asked me out and I said no. I don’t date my clients.”

“Goddammit,
Ava!” He stepped back, thrusting his hand through his hair. “So he
does have a thing for you! Who the hell are we talking about? At
least tell me his name.”
So I can warn him to stay the hell away
from you.

“Not gonna
happen. Sorry.” She plated the omelets and took them to a small
table tucked into a corner of the kitchen. “Do you want bacon
too?”

“No, I don’t
want bacon. I want to know who the hell you’re going out with
tonight.”

“This won’t
work.” She braced her hand on the back of a wrought-iron chair. “I
like you. I’m attracted to you, but I can’t have the kind of
relationship you want. I can’t be accountable to you for every move
I make.”

Brent panicked.
He was screwing everything up. “Fine, forget it.” He couldn’t
believe he was conceding. He never conceded. “Let’s just have
breakfast. I won’t mention it again.”

“Promise?” she
asked, looking skeptical.

“You have my
word.” Even if remaining silent would be torture, he intended to
keep his word. For now.

 

***

 

Brent sat in
the driveway of his father’s tiny bungalow trying to understand why
he felt the need to visit the old man. He should be at work
finalizing details of the hostile takeover that had been his
lifework for almost a decade.

Glancing at the
clock on the dashboard, his mind drifted to Ava. She was the reason
he was there. He needed his father’s take on the woman who held his
heart in the palm of her hand. He’d never given anyone the power to
hurt him… until her.

Brent ran up
the walkway and opened the front door. “Hey, Dad, where are you?”
He heard the TV blaring in the living room. At seventy, his father
was losing his hearing, but he was too stubborn to admit it.

“In here!”

Brent lounged
in the living room doorway and glanced at the game show his father
was watching. Brent hated that house. It harbored too many memories
of his unhappy childhood and
that woman
, but his father
refused to let Brent buy him a luxury condominium or a new house in
the downtown core so he would be closer to the amenities. His
father had bought his house when they were finally able to move out
of the rat-infested apartments they’d called home, and Brent knew,
modest as it was, it was a source of pride, so he didn’t force the
issue.

Instead, Brent
hired a private nurse to make sure his father took his
prescriptions for his chronic lung condition and a caregiver to
drive him to appointments, the grocery store, and the seniors’
center for his daily card game. The doctor took his license away
after his last surgery, and the loss of independence nearly killed
the old man. His sons finally convinced him to restructure his life
and make new friends.

“What are you
doin’ here in the middle of a workday?” his dad asked.

Brent held up
his diamond Rolex. “It’s not the middle of the day. It’s only ten.”
He’d gone for a drive after changing for work, but he still didn’t
feel like facing the day. He hoped his father could help him gain
some perspective.

“Fine,” Jerry
Armstrong said, sighing. “What’re you doin’ here at ten in the
morning?”

“I didn’t feel
like going in to work today.”

Jerry snorted.
“That’s a switch.” He turned off the TV and laced his hands over
his paunch. “Somethin’ botherin’ ya, boy?”

“We’re
finalizing the details of the takeover. He’s got nowhere to hide.
There’s not a bank in the world who’ll bail him out of this
mess.”

Jerry sighed.
“How many times do I have to tell you the only person you’re
hurtin’ with this revenge plot is yourself? You’ve got to let go of
your hatred toward the man, Brent. Your mama left us. He didn’t
hold a gun to her head and force her to go.”

Brent didn’t
know if he could ever let go of his animosity for the man who’d
lured Brent’s mother away. He was rich, so Brent had to be richer.
He was smart, so Brent had to prove he was better and smarter and
more powerful. That man was the fuel motivating him to succeed, and
Brent didn’t think he wanted to let the hatred die.

“I didn’t come
here to talk about him.”

Jerry pointed
to a worn chair next to his recliner. “Take a load off. Tell me
what’s botherin’ you.”

Brent didn’t
even know where to start. Sitting down, he laced his hands between
his bent knees and leaned forward. “There’s this girl. We met in
college. She moved to Europe. We didn’t see each other for a long
time.”

“Go on. I’m
listenin’.”

“We hooked up
last night.”

Jerry rolled
his eyes. “Is that your way of tellin’ me you took her home? That’s
what you young people call it, isn’t it? Hookin’ up?”

Brent couldn’t
believe he’d been stupid enough to talk to his father about this.
But Jerry had done something that had alluded Brent his whole life:
he’d learned to trust another woman after his wife left. He’d
fallen in love with Bernice ten years ago and lost her to breast
cancer three years ago. She had been his neighbor, and the two
always maintained their separate residences, but their genuine
affection was obvious.

“We were… uh…
kind of together back in college.”

“Does that mean
y’all slept together?”

“Jesus, Dad,
I’m forty years old. I’m not talking to you about my sex life.”

“Fine.” He
chuckled. “What about this woman has got you cuttin’ out on work
and interruptin’ my TV time?”

“I have
feelings for her.” He was afraid to define what they were, but he
knew they’d started back in college and time had only intensified
them.

“Does she feel
the same way?”

He assumed Ava
felt something for him. She wouldn’t have made love to him
otherwise. “I think so.”

“So what’s the
problem?”

“She’s too damn
independent, too stubborn…” Brent drew a shaky breath. “She’s
making me crazy.”

“Because you
can’t control her.”

That was the
crux of his problem, but he wouldn’t admit it aloud. “I want to
protect her.”

“You want to
own her.”

His father was
starting to sound like Ava. He was supposed to be on his side. “No,
I don’t. I want to have a relationship with her.”

“On your
terms.”

Brent sighed.
Didn’t anyone want a mutually exclusive relationship anymore? “I
don’t think I’m being unreasonable. I just don’t want her to see
anyone else.”

“How long have
y’all been seein’ each other?” When Brent didn’t respond, his
father asked, “Weeks? Months?” He snickered. “That’s what I
thought. You’ve got to give it time, boy. You can’t rush these
things.”

“Rush it? I
wanted to be with her ten years ago!”

“Obviously she
didn’t feel the same way. If she did, y’all would be married with a
couple of kids by now.” Maybe the knowledge that Ava had cheated
him out of the life he believed they could have had together was
what hurt Brent the most. His father leaned forward and gripped
Brent’s forearm with his arthritic hand. “Ya can’t force a woman to
love you, son, any more than you can try to hold on to a woman who
doesn’t love you anymore.”

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