PIERCE : A Billionaire Romance Book Series (The Complete Van Doren Series) (2 page)

              “So, why are you a reporter? Was it a conscious decision or something you just kind of…” He slides closer still, closing the gap between them entirely and letting his hand slowly brush a curl from her cheek. “…fell into?”  His hazy eyes narrow on her lips, causing Christina to gulp.  She can feel her little digital recorder prodding her thigh where it’s crushed between them, utterly forgotten and ignored by Pierce.

              Every bit of Christina’s brain tells her to get up – to move away from this asshole.  She wills her body to do what her mind wants, but it refuses to accept the commands.
 
Get the fuck up, Christina
.
Her limbs do not cooperate.  In fact, she finds herself shifting a tiny bit closer to the unwelcome, firm warmth of Pierce’s torso, her body feeling small under his arm.  She can smell him – it’s a clean, masculine scent, accented only very lightly by some kind of spicy cologne.  She feels her lungs fill with air as she inhales him unconsciously.  There’s a faint, whispering tension in her gut, and she feels herself swirling, falling into the sun. She finally manages to get out from under her subconscious, her body darting forward and away until she gets to her feet and turns to face the still-seated man. 

              “It’s obvious you don’t want to talk to me, Pierce.”  Her voice is steely.  The blushing little girl that momentarily commanded her is shoved aside, allowing the pissed-off, admittedly flustered adult woman to handle the situation.  “This has been a waste of my time. I’ll just have to look into this on my own, since you’re not open with anything more than I can find by Googling Van Doren Enterprises!”  Reaching forward, she snatches up her recorder, then scoops up her bag and shoves everything inside it angrily.  “Plus, you’ve been completely inappropriate, and I intend to tell my editor exactly what kind of asshole you are!”

              Pierce does not make any effort to retort.  In fact, he smiles at her.  His shoulder flexes with another non-committal shrug, and he simply watches her as she huffs around and makes her proclamations.  As she shoulders her bag and turns to leave, he speaks up in a calm, low tone.

              “Tell Pete I’ll see him at the golf tournament on Saturday.  I’m buying the first round of beers.”

              This stops Christina in her tracks
.
I should have known.  Fucking hell
!
She takes a deep breath.  Without turning around to face Pierce again, she heads towards the doors that lead back out into the foyer.  He makes no move to follow her.  “Don’t get up – “ she says, despite the fact that she hasn’t heard him move from his seat.  “I know my way out.”

              As she makes her way through the massive entryway and out the front door, Christina feels hot tears of frustration welling up in her eyes.  She knuckles them back, cursing quietly under her breath.  “Great, just fucking great… Go
d
DAM
N
him!”  How’s she going to explain this to Peter?  How did things get out of hand so quickly?  Why didn’t she just play his game and tell him some stupid bullshit about her life?  She really fucked this one up. 

              Finally getting behind the wheel of her car, she tosses her bag into the passenger seat and clenches the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turn white.  A few deep breaths later, she puts the car into gear and heads back down the long, shadowy, leaf-strewn driveway. She’ll just have to deal with this tomorrow.  Peter will understand. Hopefully.

              When Christina leaves, Pierce can’t help but watch her leave with a knot of aroused admiration in his stomach. He hasn’t felt this way about a woman in a long time – and it’s not just because she’s a knockout.  And, she is – a really stunning one, at that.  It’s clear to him that Christina isn’t aware of how attractive she is. She underplays all her best features, and dresses in a manner apparently designed to undermine her own sensuality.  While he usually finds himself drawn to bombshell model types, there’s something about Christina Manning that makes him feel a bit stupid – a bit overwhelmed.

              And her temper!  Fuck, that was hot.  He had to fight the urge to reach up and take hold of her waist and drag her back onto the couch with him when she got up. He fidgets a little bit, reaching down to adjust the bulge in his pants as he remembers how she looked as she stood over him with that attitude boiling up.  The flush in her cheeks and chest that rushed up as he put the pressure on her was a huge turn-on. He smiles to himself, as he basks in the knot of tension and unrequited need that’s clenched in his gut.  After a few more moments and some deep, calming breaths, he gets up and heads over to his desk, where he retrieves his cellphone.  He thumbs his way through his contacts until he finds the info for Peter Murdock, then presses ‘call’.

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Christina arrives at work the next day a couple of hours early, hoping to get to her office before Peter arrives.  She intends to send him an email explaining what happened with Pierce, hoping to stave off the inevitable lecture and potential reprimand.  She knows she fucked up – this was an opportunity to get a bonus that would help her take care of family.  She was given a story that probably should have gone to a more senior reporter, and she should have handled it with kid gloves.  Besides, she can’t really afford to risk losing her job, right now.  She has to make this right, but she wants to do so with as little confrontation as possible.

              Following the death of her mother, Christina’s father suffered a massive heart attack.  Her parents were already in rather dire financial straits after spending significant sums of money on her mother’s failed rehabilitation. Now Christina feels she should move back home and help take care of her dad.  He has, of course, asked her repeatedly to stay in San Francisco and follow her dream, but as he ages, she knows she’s either going to have to move back to Long Island or move him to the West Coast.  The idea that she could have fucked all her plans up because she let herself get flustered by that trust fund baby Pierce Van Doren has only managed to make her more determined to get the story she needs, and get as far away from him as possible.

Christina makes her way into the building, smiling tensely at the security guard before heading towards the bank of elevators.               

              Shouldering her bag, she reaches out to press the ‘up’ arrow. Christina reaches into the bag to retrieve her phone.  She’s just beginning to scroll through her To-Do list, when she feels someone step up alongside her.  They step in entirely too closely for her comfort, and she lifts her head, wanting to glare at them before stepping aside.  Her mouth is poised to shift into a grumpy line of distaste when she catches a familiar scent, and she gasps audibly.

              “What the…” she begins, immediately biting back the rest of her statement as she takes two quick steps to the side and tightens her grip on her phone.  Pierce Fucking Van Doren.  Here.  Christina finds herself once again blushing deep pink, and her free hand reaches up to tug her coat’s collar tighter around her throat.  Pierce stays where he is – inside her former personal bubble – but she hears a low chuckle resonate in his throat.

              “Hello, Christina…” he says casually, stepping forward as the elevator dings and the doors rumble open.  He grips the edge of the door, holding it open for her while gesturing that she should step into the car.  “Going up?”

              Christina shakes her head.  “No,” she says, her eyes narrowing as she struggles to contain the anger that’s welling up in her chest, “Going down.”  She darts her gaze away from him, looking back towards the security guard’s desk and pointedly avoiding Pierce’s attention.   Pierce hesitates for a few more seconds, then shrugs and steps onto the elevator.  She can feel the weight of his gaze until the doors slide shut in front of him, and as the car shifts into gear and begins to rise, she curses inaudibly and steps forward to once again press the ‘up’ arrow.  Great.  Just great.

              When she arrives at the eighth floor and the offices of Eastern View Magazine, Christina scans the immediate lobby before stepping off the elevator.  She only sees familiar faces – the receptionist Amber, a new intern named Josh who has a huge crush on Amber, and the retreating form of Carol, the Life and Style feature reporter.  Carol pauses and glances over her shoulder, offering Christina a quick little wave and a mouthed ‘good morning’.  Amber and Josh don’t say anything, they’re very clearly flirting, and rather adorably so.  Christina smiles a little bit at that, the clench of tension in her chest relaxing slightly as she doesn’t see any evidence of Pierce Van Doren.  Maybe he wasn’t even heading to her office.  Yeah, maybe he had something else entirely to do here, in the very building that she works, the day after she made a complete bitch of herself in his home.

              Her smile fades as she heads down the hall, and then disappears altogether as she notices that not only has Peter already arrived, but his blinds are closed and his office door is shut.  Sighing, she moves past his office and towards her own much-smaller work space, where she drops heavily into her desk chair and throws her bag on top of her desk.  Folding her arms on top of her work surface, she lets her head drop down against her forearms, a deep sigh escaping as she waits for the inevitable call.

              Christina almost drifted off into a fitful nap when the phone near her head barked to life.  The second ring barely has time to start, before she snatches the receiver out of its cradle and presses it tight against her ear. Peter is already speaking, pre-empting her ‘hello’. 

              “Are you stupid, or do you have some kind of vendetta against me?  I hope it’s the first one, because I hate to think you’re actively trying to get my ass in a sling, Christina.”  His voice is at once exhausted and irate, barely held in-check as he growls into the phone.  “Get in here.” He pauses, and then adds, “Now.”

              The editor of Eastern View Magazine isn’t a bad guy.  In fact, he’s pretty great.  He hired Christina fresh out of college, and has given her every opportunity to ascend the ranks within his organization, gradually giving her more and more chances to make a name for herself.  When he managed to finagle an interview with the elusive Pierce Van Doren, he made it clear to Christina that he was taking a chance by handing it to her.  She knows how much of a personal risk he’s taken by giving the story to a relative unknown, and she feels bad that she’s letting him down.  When she steps into his office, she does so with appropriate chagrin, her head down and her posture slumped in preparation for the well-deserved tongue-lashing she’s bound to receive.

              “Sit down, please.”  The voice that speaks up isn’t Peter’s as expected, but none other than that of Pierce Van Doren himself.  Christina’s posture immediately straightens. Her jaw bulges as she clenches it firmly, and levels her attention upon the dark-haired man.  Peter is sitting at his desk, watching their interaction, an unreadable expression on his worry-lined face.  His hands are clenched together atop his desk, and she can tell he wants to say something – but he leaves Pierce to conduct things, at least for now.  Realizing he’s not going to involve himself just yet, Christina does as she’s asked, taking a seat in one of the upholstered red chairs that sit opposite Peter’s desk. 

              Pierce has positioned himself against the corner of Peter’s big wooden desktop, his ass pressed lightly against its edge, his arms folded across his broad, strong chest.  He’s exchanged the casual lounge-look of last night for something professional and absolutely striking: an impeccably pressed pair of light gray pants, an obviously expensive white oxford shirt complete with French cuffs and silver cufflinks, and a bright green necktie with tiny bluebirds embroidered into the fabric.  She glances at his shoes and figures they probably cost as much as her rent, then lifts her eyes to meet his.  She does this unflinchingly, although it’s tough.  He’s just so goddamned cocky
.
Steady, keep your cool.

              “Christina,” Peter finally speaks up.  “You owe Pierce an apology.  I am frankly pretty appalled that you showed up an hour late and then had the balls to cancel the interview when you got a phone call.”  He shakes his head.  “I mean, talk about unprofessional!”

              Christina’s brow furrows, and she looks towards her editor, then back at Pierce, then back at Peter again.  Her mouth opens but Peter continues, cutting her off.  He lifts one hand towards her.  “Luckily, Pierce is willing to overlook your complete lack of integrity and re-schedule the interview.”  Pierce smiles with benign politeness.  She can see the mirth in his eyes, though – and the way he just sits there is infuriating.  She can feel her teeth squeaking against one another as she grinds her molars tightly together.  Still – she has been given another opportunity to write this article.  She needs this article.  She needs the money, and whatever game Pierce is playing will hopefully work to her advantage in the long run.  Swallowing down her instincts to call him the liar he is, she simply nods and feigns a smile, trying to keep it relaxed and superficially sincere.

              “Hey, thanks…” she says, turning that bullshit grin towards Pierce before nodding to Peter. “I really appreciate it.  I don’t know what I was thinking.”  She gets to her feet, then – extending her right hand towards Pierce.  “This is really understanding of you.” 

              Peter sighs, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head at the pair.  He gets to his feet, then, waiting for Pierce to accept Christina’s handshake before offering his own.  “Let Christina know when would be a good time.” His gaze twitches towards his wayward reporter. “I’m sure she’ll clear her schedule for you.”  Christina flinches slightly, but nods.