Inarticulate (17 page)

Would you have given me a chance if you knew who I was?

One by one he slammed down questions, then aggressively scribbled another.

Do you think that night in the penthouse would’ve happened?

How far would this thing between us have gone if you knew I was your rival?

He paused long enough to poke her curiosity. She looked up at him and met the angered raise of his brow.
Asshole.
He stoked her blood to the boiling point in that mere crinkle of his forehead. He had no right to be angry. No right at all.

Another note landed before her.
The last few weeks wouldn’t have existed.

“For good reason,” she hissed under her breath. “You’ve jeopardized my job. And for what? To get laid?” She tore her gaze from his. “Or maybe it wasn’t about sex. Maybe it was to help your girlfriend get back at me for a stupid mistake in high school. Or did you do it for inside information? To make Daddy proud if Rydel occupancy levels fell below the required levels?”

Another slam landed on the bar.

She clenched her jaw, fighting against the pull to lower her eyes. She didn’t want this to continue. She didn’t want to read another message.

Her traitorous vision lowered anyway.

That’s bullshit and you know it.

“Do I?” It was her turn to raise a defiant brow. “What’s the alternative, Keenan? Why keep something that important from me? There’s no point denying your manipulation. You succeeded for weeks. Congratulations.”

This time his writing was slower, less frantic in her periphery. He slid the message on top of the others, his fingers remaining on the paper as she read,
I should’ve told you
.

She glared at him. “Ya think?”

He returned the stare as he placed the next note down.
And you shouldn’t have assumed I was only capable of a low-level position.

Incorrect. She’d thought his
employer
would’ve made that assumption.

“Don’t even try it.” She sipped her wine slowly, shooting daggers at him over the rim of the glass. “The guilt ship has sailed, buddy. It boarded all passengers this morning, never to return.”

His nostrils flared and he pinned her with a look so feral and furious that she almost wanted to slink away. Almost. Instead, she raised her chin. “So, please leave.”

His jaw ticked as he wrote on the Post-It pad. This time he held up the message beside his angry face—
I’m falling for you.

She fought to keep her stare impassive. Fought and lost. She swallowed hard, fighting back the lump building in her throat. “Well, don’t let the ground smack you in the face when you finally stop the descent.” She slid from her stool. “Good luck with the settlement. I’ll make sure Spencer has all my notes before he arrives to take over.”

Something flashed in his eyes—shock, fear, panic—she didn’t know and wasn’t going to waste time being wistful. Instead, she turned and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Big steps, little steps. She fumbled her way from the bar and into the hotel lobby. The lights were brighter out here, almost burning her retinas. She really needed to get more sun.

Her heels clapped faster and faster along the floor, matching her deadly heart rate. This was the end. Her final glimpse at the Seattle staff. She wasn’t going to see Keenan again either.

She wasn’t sure what hurt more… Well, she did. She simply refused to admit it to herself.

Footfalls echoed behind her, spurring her to move at a pace that defied inebriated logic. She was holding her own at the moment, but the alcohol was kicking in, moving from first gear and straight into third.

She rounded the corner, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling as she jabbed the elevator button. “Come on.”

The heavy footsteps stopped. She wasn’t alone. And it wasn’t a stranger at her back. It was a familiar frame. An unforgettable scent.

The elevator doors opened and she rushed inside to press the button for level three. Her shadow followed, shrinking the already small space with his overbearing presence.

“Get out.” She held the door open and waited. Waited and waited. “
Get. Out
.”

Keenan leaned against the side wall of the elevator and stared at her, arms crossed over his chest, feet crossed at the ankles.

“Do you think this is a joke?” Her arm fell to her side as she took a menacing step toward him. It probably would’ve been funny from his perspective—tipsy woman, trying to intimidate an ogre—but she didn’t care. “I don’t have the security of being related to the boss to be able to risk my career like this. You’re playing with my life.”

He held up the Post-It note again and the same message stared back at her—
I’m falling for you.

“Get out,” she seethed.

The doors began to close and her throat restricted with his lack of movement. They stared each other down, Keenan’s determination matching her frustration as they ascended in silence. She hated the emotion he laid bare for her—the fake, manipulative emotion that encouraged her into this mess in the first place.

The interest in his eyes wasn’t real. The concerned furrow of his brow was fraudulent.

The elevator dinged its deafening trill of arrival and she backtracked into the hall, her gaze never leaving his. He remained poised, so arrogant leaning against that wall.

Once safely outside, she turned. Fled. She made two steps before she shivered at the sound of his accompanying footfalls. “You’re not coming into my room.” He couldn’t. She wouldn’t allow it. Memories already daunted her. They’d shared too much in that bed.

“Don’t follow me, Keenan.” She marched harder down the hall, trying to gain a lead, but he was right there, his longer, stronger legs eating up any space she made.

Damn him, and damn her for being so susceptible to whatever it was that made her addicted to his existence. Dominic had warned her. Penny had threatened her. And still she’d wound up in a mess of infatuation she never should’ve become involved in.

She yanked her room card from her pocket and slammed it against the locking device. There was a buzz, a gratifying blink of a green light, and then she was shoving the door open, her heart thankful for the awaiting sanctuary.

“Goodbye, Keenan.” She slunk inside, and quickly pushed to close the door.

Instead of shutting him out, the glossy wood opened further under the heavy press of his palm. He stood before her, an undeniable force, a mask of superiority.

“Please,” she begged. “Don’t.”

She backtracked, unable to maintain the close proximity between them as he stalked toward her. Her limbs were trembling, especially her hand as she raised it to stab a finger toward the exit in a silent attempt to tell him to go.

He ignored her, the door drifting shut behind him, closing them in together. His approach continued, increasing the rapid pound in her chest and the tumbling roll of her belly. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

“I’m not playing games.
Get out.
”

His focus drifted to the bed, to the suitcase ready and waiting. His eyebrows pulled tight, his lips, too, as he narrowed his attention back on her and shook his head. “
No.
”

He reached for her luggage and grasped the zipper.

“What the hell are you doing?” She watched in shocked fascination as he unzipped her case and pulled out a stack of her clothes. “Stop it.”

Keeping her distance was imperative, for her heart and her self-preservation, but what the heck was she expected to do when he was unpacking her belongings and stalking back down the hall to place them in the tiny closet?

“Keenan.” Her voice was more hesitant than she would’ve liked.

He didn’t stop, his presence taking over the entire room as his hands manipulated her clothes. With painful fortitude, he was doing everything she refused to admit she wanted. He was fighting for her attention, demanding she listen, insisting she stay.

Just watching him was encouraging her surrender…or maybe it was the alcohol making her pliant.

Stupid wine.

Either way, every inch of her was out of control, every nerve highly attuned to his movements.

“You made a fool out of me.” She was fighting against herself, broadcasting the obvious, not to remind him, but to remind her. “You humiliated me.”

He paused at the foot of the bed and the harshness of his expression didn’t change. Nothing wavered except his eyes. The deep, smoky depths turned somber. Almost apologetic. He changed his course and stepped toward her, those strong hands and legs and arms approaching.

“Stop.” There was nowhere left to run. She was already cowering near the window. “Just stop.”

He didn’t.

She shoved at his chest, and the hardness of muscle beneath her palm wrought havoc on her senses. “Why are you doing this? Why can’t you just leave me alone? Why did you show interest in me to begin with?”

She needed to hear his words. To have something other than sterile pieces of paper slammed down between them.

“
I don’t know
,” he mouthed with a slow shake of his head. He inched closer, those beautiful lips descending to cause irreparable damage.

“Don’t.” She looked away, denying his kiss and any chance for him to communicate. He didn’t deserve anything from her, no matter how willing her body was to raise the white flag.

His fingers encased her chin, the familiar grip stealing a silent whimper from her throat. He guided her face back to meet his and she stood riveted, unable to break the connection. “
I need you
.”

She wished she could scoff, or laugh, or glare. She didn’t want to understand him anymore, didn’t want to acknowledge the words that had become so easy to interpret. “I’ll never trust you again. Everything will be a lie.”

He shook his head. “
No
.”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. His fingers worked in proficient taps and strokes until he held up an old message for her to read—
Nobody has ever affected me the way you do. Nobody. Ever. I leave you and within seconds I have to push myself not to turn back and go in search of you again. It might be a normal feeling for others, but for me it’s a first. And although I don’t have the experience to back it up, I think this uncomfortable, clingy sensation might be something normal people consider a good thing.

“
Not a lie
,” he mouthed.

He tapped over and over and then showed her the screen again. This time it was a new message—
I didn’t know you were with Rydel until after you left the bonfire. And by then, it was too late. I wasn’t going to stand you up at the restaurant. Even if I hadn’t given you that note, I was already in too deep.

Her cheeks heated with gullibility. It had to be a lie. He was playing her. Again. But he played her so well. He played her with such sweet proficiency that she anticipated another betrayal and still wanted to go along for the ride anyway.

She lowered her gaze to the floor between them and wished she could forget the time they’d spent together. “Can you move back a little?”

She needed room. He was too close. Too tempting. Instead, he stepped closer, bringing them toe to toe. “Keenan…”

His arm wove around her waist, pulling them together. The solid wall of his chest beat against hers, his strength making her weak as he typed one-handed—
You knew I worked with Penny
.

“Yes. I just didn’t know to what extent,” she admitted.

But you knew Penny worked closely with the CEO.

“Yes.” She became hooked on the support of his body, sated by it, until he stepped back and she mourned the loss.

He flashed her another message—
So, like I mentioned earlier, you thought I was worthless. You assumed I lacked the skills to have a position of power. Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you realized what was happening between us had turned into something more than gratification and you decided to ignore the risks. Which is it?

She stared blankly at the screen, refusing to admit to either when she had to acknowledge she was guilty of both.

“I want you to leave,” she murmured. He’d dissolved her anger, which was dangerous because now she only had vulnerability to keep her company.

He lowered his screen. Typed a new message—
Do you think I wanted to become infatuated with someone who thinks I’m less of a man because I don’t talk?

“It doesn’t matter.” She placed her hand back on his chest and lost the fight to push him backward. “It’s over. I won’t risk my job any more than I already have.”

His mouth curved, the slightest grin dissolving the potent seriousness in the room with the kick of his lips. “
Yes, you will
,” he mouthed.

His hand came to her cheek, then wove gently through her hair. The soft clench of her heart made panic unfurl in her belly. She was falling victim all over again. Her weakness for him was pathetic, and way too powerful.

“Leave,” she repeated with conviction.

His eyes narrowed and that perfect grin faltered. He was trying to read her thoughts and she couldn’t allow it. She wasn’t going to let him win. Not twice in one day.

He thumb-tapped into his phone and kept scrutinizing her as she read—
Promise me you won’t leave Seattle.

“I owe you nothing.”

He shoved his cell closer to her, demanding she reread his screen—
Promise me you won’t leave Seattle.

“I’ll have you removed from the premises if I have to.” She slid out of reach. “Take the lingerie you sent me as you go. It’s in the box beside the television. The tags still attached. You might be able to return them.”

He stepped forward, coming to her side. She stiffened, every muscle taut trying to defend from the enticing onslaught. There was no communication, no Post-Its or messages on his screen. There were no mouthed words or gestures with his body. He merely stood there, looking down at her, owning her with his gaze.

She raised her chin, determined in her stance as he leaned in and placed an excruciating kiss on her forehead. The brush of his soft lips was brutal, destroying her defenses.

The need to pull him toward her was painful.