Borden (Borden #1) (13 page)

“You’re enamoured by me,” he stated slowly. “I can see it in your eyes. You lust for something new, different. Maybe I’m the same.”

I swallowed, unwilling to acknowledge his statement. “Why am I here, Mr Borden? Just cut to the chase.”

“You’re different,” he quietly remarked.

“Different how?”

“Just… different. I see colours when I’m around you.”

Colours. What did that mean?

My chest tightened at the fleeting shadow of sadness lurking beneath the surface of him. Something wasn’t right. The cocky, arrogant man from two seconds ago had disappeared, and I wanted to speak to this man in front of me now before he bottled it up again. I opened my mouth to respond when his phone rang. Snapping out of whatever bubble we allowed ourselves in, he sighed and pressed a button on the screen of his phone and put it to his ear.

“What?” he demanded.

He listened intently, and I could already feel the shift in the air. He was pulling away, back to the man from before.

“I’ll be on my way in a few minutes,” he said before hanging up and looking back at me. “I’m just going to cut to the chase in our job interview, Miss Warne.”

I froze, my breath knocked out of me. Job interview? “What? What are you talking about?”

“I like you, and I think you would be a wonderful asset to my business. Thank you for expressing interest –”

“I didn’t express shit. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about right now.”

He stared at me evenly. “You’re a bookkeeper by trade, are you not?”

I didn’t respond. I was too lost to understand.

“My club is in need of one as soon as possible, and the job is yours. You’ll be working alongside me –”

“No,” I cut in, catching up to his words in my shock. “I won’t be taking any position with you. I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

He tucked his phone into his pocket and leaned back in his chair. “It’s a good paying job, more than what you’re making at the place you’re at currently. You should be thanking me right now. It’s not often I like someone enough to hire them on the spot.”

“I don’t want to be hired. I’m happy where I am.”

“You’re happy to live in poverty? Somehow I find that unlikely, and anyways it’s done. You’ll be taking the position, or you’ll end up unemployed, which I know you don’t want to be. That would mean crawling back to your grandmother’s little house, putting stress on that poor fragile thing after she thought you were handling yourself so well on your own. It’d be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

My heart nearly stopped. “You’ve been combing through my life.”

“Every inch of it.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.”

I paused, trying to understand this man. “Why me?”

“You already know why.”

You’re
different.
He’d said.

We stared at each other for several moments, neither of us unwilling to look away first. What started out as anger had now weaned to me curiously exploring his unnaturally attractive face, wondering exactly what thoughts inhabited his crazy mind to justify doing this to me.

“You’re deluded,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not working for you, no matter what you say, Mr Borden.”

“Oh, come on,” he whispered to me, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Think of the fun we’ll have.”

I felt a hot thrill shoot down my belly, and my sex tightened. Fuck, he was getting to me. I couldn’t work alongside him. That was madness, and very unhealthy for Horny Emma, who was already trying to do a jail-break from the cage I’d locked her in.

“You said you didn’t want me anywhere near your establishments,” I reminded him.

He leaned forward, licking his bottom lip as he stared at my mouth. “That was before I sucked your tongue.”

My ovaries exploded.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

Amusement flickered in those eyes as he took in the state of me. Then he rose up to his feet and my body tensed at the movement. He was leaving? Would he take me with him? Would I even say no to this dangerous man?

“Where are you doing?” I asked him, and I sounded like a needy moron.

He smirked at me. “As much as I enjoy your company, I have some business to get around to. Enjoy your plate, alley cat. I added extra scallops for you.”

I let out an unsteady breath, hating the disappointment I felt, both for him leaving me and in myself for humanizing the asshole.

He has just forcefully hired you, Emma!

I felt ashamed in that moment for the satisfaction that emerged at the thought of him liking me enough to hire me.

What the fuck was wrong with me? How could I be feeling two opposing emotions at the same bloody time?

I expected him to just leave, and I was desperate for him to so I could calm down and clear my thoughts. But he just stood there for several more seconds. I managed to look at him, shaking in my confusion, and yet feeling a thrill I couldn’t pinpoint. With eyes focused on mine, he put his hand into his pocket and pulled something out. I was too busy looking at him to know what it was, until the cool object touched my chest, and I jumped, going still at the familiar feel of my switchblade.

I didn’t move as he sensually trailed it in between my breasts, his tongue caught between his teeth, before securing it in my bra. Then he leaned over and I felt the brush of his thumb on my lips. He stroked it lightly – dotingly – and my breath thinned and my heart raced. He had just effortlessly reduced me to a puddle once again, because that’s the affect he effortlessly had on women, including me: a hard-ass. Once again, I drowned in those eyes that looked far more human than I’d ever witnessed in him before.

“Red doesn’t suit you,” he quietly stated, his eyes narrowing. “Never put on red lipstick again.”

Then his hand dropped, and the tension broke as he turned around and walked out of there. I watched him as my body pulsed with a lust I wasn’t familiar with. Head held high, back straight, legs moving fluidly, he confidently walked as if he owned the ground he walked on and…

Well, shit, he kinda did, didn’t he?

*

I stripped off my clothes in the bathroom and stared at the small mirror over the sink. I violently rubbed the red lipstick off my lips, telling myself that I was trying to remove the touch of
him
from off of me. Only my body was saying otherwise.

Don’t you dare feel for that man. That’s sick. It’s wrong. Look what he did to Joel.

But he’d said he had a goddamn reputation to keep. And that meant what exactly? That it was all for show?

Plus he said Joel was all kinds of fucked up. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise?

Now I was just grasping for an excuse.

I’d tried calling Joel, but I had no luck getting through. It was only on my way home after abandoning my half full plate of food (because I was admittedly hungry as hell and couldn’t help myself) that I got a text from him asking me to stop calling him. When asked if he was alright, he never responded. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but at his curt behaviour I was almost angry enough to demand for a “thank you” at the least for what I did. I knew his injuries would have been so much worse if I hadn’t stopped Borden from giving him another punch, and that was a weird thought to be had
. I
stopped Borden. Me. How?

He said I was different. What made me different exactly? My stomach twisted in shame when I felt the spike of pleasure run down my spine. Truth was I liked being told I was different, and I hated myself for that too.

Cocky.

Arrogant.

Violent.

Angry.

These were the qualities of Borden I had to focus on.
Not
the way he treated me with…
gentleness
. Or the way he looked at me…
lustfully
. Or the fact that he had listened to me, which told me he was indeed penetrable during his rage fits.

Plus he demanded I work for him. Nobody bloody told me what to do, dammit!

I stepped into the shower stall and made sure the water was scolding hot. I roughly washed my body raw, trying to erase the night off of me – and more importantly, the sick fascination I was developing for Borden. Which was stupid. Washing my outer body was not going to change the way I felt inside.

When my face tingled at the reminder of what he did, I angrily scrubbed my mouth again in a vain effort to rid the feel of his touch on my lips.

Borden

Sitting at his desk, Borden flipped through the latest file Hawke had supplied him that morning.

Full name:
Emma Lynne Warne
Age:
Twenty three
Education:
Diploma in book keeping.
Went to South Central High School. Honour roll student, albeit long history of truancy.
Family:
No siblings. Grandmother gained custody after –

Borden’s eyes widened.

Mother:
Marianne Warne, death by suicide in the women’s penitentiary ten years ago.
Father:
Gunned down by Marianne Warne sixteen years ago.

Well, shit, not at all your typical New Raven sob story. Yet the girl didn’t seem damaged in the slightest.
She’s a tough cookie
. Borden thought.

He flipped through more pages, content when he discovered her list of boyfriends was embarrassingly short: three known partners, no long term relationship, last relationship ended over a year ago and lasted four months.

No criminal history.

No sexually transmitted diseases.

On birth control since eight years ago. Had the occasional prescription for sleeping pills. Long history of anxiety.

And best of all, no dramas with anybody in her life.

Well, Emma was squeaky clean. Not a single footprint on a map. A fucking brilliant empty slate. Borden liked that.

A knock sounded out, and then the door to his office opened without his permission, which meant it was Hawke, the only man Borden trusted with his life. He looked up as Hawke took a seat in front of him.

“He’ll be gone by tomorrow,” he informed him.

Borden nodded. “Good. Was he difficult?”

“Not when I informed him of the consequences.”

“Good.”

Now that the doctor was out of the picture, he didn’t have to worry about a fourth boyfriend, although he knew the likelihood of that would have been very low anyway. Truth was, that guy was just plain old fucked up. Really seedy scary bastard. His interests were of a very disturbing variety and removing him from the picture of
any
New Raven woman was a good deed done by Borden.

“We have to discuss some things,” Hawke then said, capturing his attention. “The bikers aren’t going away anytime soon. Hector wants to see you as soon as possible.”

Borden sighed and tossed the file back on his table. He leaned back in his chair, images of Emma swarming his mind while he tried to focus on the issue at hand.

What the fuck was it about her exactly? Her defiance? Her curt behaviour that overshadowed her fear? He couldn’t place it exactly, but she was overwhelming every spare minute of his time.

“Borden,” Hawke pressed, impatiently.

“We’ll tell them no, like last time,” Borden muttered on a shrug.

Hawke frowned. “What if that doesn’t work?”

“Then shit will get ugly.”

“We have law breathing down our necks, Borden. If shit gets ugly, they’ll get the wrong idea, and then we’re fucked for something we haven’t even done. Now I’ve been thinking about it, and I really believe that if we promise them the port sometime down the road, when the heat eventually cools, then they may back off –”

“They’re not using
my
port to smuggle in
their
drugs. As a former drug addict, I don’t deal with drugs.”

“But you’re not technically dealing with the drugs, Borden. They are.”

“Regardless, the second you let them in once, they’re going to come around non-fucking-stop, demanding more shipments into my port, and that’s when we’ll truly get fucked over, because it’s only a matter of time before the police get on to it. You need to think about the future instead of the now, Hawke.”

“I
am
thinking about the future,” Hawke retorted angrily. “It’s you that’s been distracted lately!”

“I’m not,” Borden denied.

“You are, and I’m not trying to be a cock block here, but a piece of pussy at a time like this is the last thing we fucking need right now. Now I won’t try and tell you what to do, but I’ll give you some advice. Get yourself an escort, fuck her brains out, and rid your mind of that waitress. Rid yourself of her before she’s taken over your brain.”

Borden levelled Hawke with a grim stare, and it was then Hawke realized the truth.

It was too fucking late.

Hawke shook his head and stood up. “Fine, Borden, but watch yourself. Alright? Watch yourself, and be very careful of who you’re dragging into our circle. The last thing we need is a shit-storm. And think of that, will you? If you’re in danger, so is whoever is close to you. These bikers are going to get aggressive if you don’t even give them the time of day to hear them out, and former addict or not, you’re a businessman. Leave your personal shit at the door.”

Borden clenched his teeth. He was right. Borden fucking hated how right he was. He would have followed that advice any other time, but this girl… she was seriously fucking with his head.

Was she just a curiosity to him?

Did he need to just have his fill of her before he got bored?

Yeah, that was probably it. He was just intrigued, and every intrigue he’d ever had diminished with time. This would too.

It had to.

Or else he was fucked.

Maybe you should just fuck her and get it over with. She wouldn’t fight it. She never fought it before at that nasty ass office.

Borden frowned at the thought. If he took her, she’d probably disappoint him, and then his strange allure would dissipate. No, he needed to savour the girl without actually sticking his dick inside her.

Feeling upset at himself for getting carried away, he put his hand up to stop Hawke from leaving.

“Fine,” he said, “I’ll see the fucking bikers, and we’ll get this little hiccup smoothed over.”

Hawke relaxed his shoulders. “Good choice, boss.”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m going to negotiate shit with them, Hawke. I don’t care about your background, I don’t meddle with bikers.”

Hawke nodded. “I get it, but they could be good allies too. Consider it. You can’t be impenetrable forever, Borden. It’s only a matter of time before someone finds a way through, and by then you need to be ready.”

“I’m ready,” Borden replied evenly. “You don’t know where I’ve been, or what I’ve seen. I’m ready for anything.”