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Authors: A. K Cates

The Temp (15 page)

BOOK: The Temp
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30

 

 

 

Eve couldn’t find the bug,
a bug
…if she had one.

She’d checked herself, her clothes, and her handbag, anything she carried on her on a normal day. Nothing. It didn’t calm her nerves. So much was riding on her.

For now she could contend with Trigger knowing what he was doing and hoping she was only a pawn not worthy of any great attention from the blackmailers. For now Eve would hope there was luck on her side.

*

The man held the photograph up to the dim glow of the lampshade. What a wonderful photograph it was. There was a woman with red curly hair and pale features smiling as she held a boy with similar traits in a hug. The boy couldn’t be any older than a year. Behind them an array of autumn leaves typical of New York’s Centennial Park bustled to frame the picture. They were smiling, they were happy.

They belonged to Eve.

The girl had been so stupid to leave the photo where anyone could find it on her desk. Anyone. If he needed to he could use this against her, it may or may not come to that. He’d add it to the list of things he had against her.

After all, he had
a lot
of Eve’s secrets to divulge.

 

 

 

31

 

 

 

A few days later…the phone rang nonstop. 

“Go away,” Eve pelted the pillow at the phone and rolled over on the sofa. She’d used the last of her strength to throw that pillow and now she felt like crap, absolute beneath her feet crap. Her head pounded. Her body was hot and cold and hot and cold and
oh
, if it would just stop! No amount of drugs seemed to understand what she was going through.

Then came the incessant buzz of the intercom.

Once. Twice. Three times.

She let it ring like the pounding in her head.

Finally silence.
Phew.
Eve closed her eyes.
At last.

Then came the knock at the door, followed by more infinite pounding.

“Go away,” she yelled. The knocking persisted like a drum right up against her ear. “What?” She threw open the door after realising whoever it was wasn’t going away. She swallowed her tongue. There standing before her was Roman in a light grey suit, a bag at his side and a package in his other hand. He leaned against the doorway in his casual eat-me-up manor not perturbed by her reaction.

“I brought soup,” he said calmly, he took her in, eyes crinkling.

Eve’s fist clenched. It had been two days at home, 48 hours for her to seethe about the man who’d left her hanging off the edge of a cliff on the weekend and with what happened in the office-

“You!” she didn’t give him a chance.

SLAP. The stung hit her hand hard and sapped her energies quickly. Roman stepped back.
Good.
It was something.

“That’s for not calling me on the weekend,” her anger let go into a coughing fit and she stepped back.
Oh,
how her chest burned! She clutched it for dear life.
Oh,
how her nose ran! How god awful she must look in front of him and his stupid utter perfection!

“Eve, let me take care of you,” Roman stepped in without her permission.

“I’m sick,” Eve narrowed her gaze. “Go away. Believe it or not, I’m not in the mood for sex or any of your games.”

“Not even if I strip down naked?” her mouth bobbed open, Roman Pierce naked in her apartment! She almost lost her footing.

“No,” she ground out the word.

His eyes twinkled. “Don’t you want me to take care of you? It would be wonderful if it were the other way around. You could dress up in a nurse’s outfit and I would let you put your thermometer in my mouth,” there was a wicked gleam to his smile.  

“I’d rather shove it elsewhere.” Eve grabbed a tissue before her nose and throat let loose again. “Who let you in anyway?” she turned her back on him, all the better to pretend he wasn’t really in her apartment talking about his nudity.

“A friendly neighbour.”

“Great,” she plonked down on the sofa. She’d resigned herself that she couldn’t force him out and didn’t have the strength for it, mentally and physically, even spiritually. The fact that Roman could come into her building without so much as a key was worrying on so many levels. “I bet she didn’t see passed the wolf in sheep’s clothing act.” She took the duvet and wrapped it around herself obscuring her head. Even if she was mad at him she was still absolutely mortified he was here seeing her like this.

Roman wondered further into her apartment.

“Please, make yourself at home,” she bit at him.

He was silent for a moment as he took in her furnishings.

“Why are you not at work?” Eve found herself saying. She ducked under her duvet feeling his eyes on her again; she hadn’t heard him leave so she assumed he was hovering there. His weight sank down next to her on the sofa.

“Eve, you don’t think you’re acting childish?” his face was just at the entrance of her duvet hole, coaxing her out.

“I’m not being childish, I’m sick.”

“You’re hiding from me.”

“Sick people are allowed to wrap themselves up in duvets. It’s the universal law.”

His voice was gentle and coaxing. “Who’s taking care of you?”

“Me.”

“You should fire you and make me do it.”

“Can’t, gotta give two weeks notice.”

The door slammed and Eve peeked out from under the cover.

“Can’t have the cold air coming in can we?” his head tilted to the side. He picked up the plastic bag he’d brought with him.

“Where’s your microwave?”

“I don’t want you here,” Eve mumbled beneath the duvet.

“Eve, you don’t mean it.” There was nothing she could say.

Deep down it was true.

 

 

32

 

 

 

“Open wide or I’ll spank you.”

Eve’s eyes widened as the spoon came floating towards her. There was a bemused look on Roman’s face as he sat next to her on the sofa.

“No,” she shut her mouth.

“Eve,” his voice returned to some of its previous authority, husky sweet.

She opened her mouth. “You wouldn’t spank a sick person.”

“You won’t always be sick,” his eyes glinted for a second, the corners of his mouth perking up. “You’re sexy when you pout.”

“I’m sick, there’s nothing sexy about it.”

He fed her another spoon full. “I don’t remember you being this stubborn.”

“Why didn’t you message me on the weekend?” Eve dared herself to say it, to ask the question that had been hurting her the most, even being sick.

His eyebrows knit together. “I wanted to. I thought about it often.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He sat back. “I had a lot on my mind. I didn’t really know what to say given what had transpired.”

“I don’t know if I can accept such a pathetic answer.”

“You’re a woman, I’m sure it’s in your DNA not to.”

“You’re a sexist pig.”

“Only some of the time.”

“What happened?”

Rome turned away, a far away look in his eyes, she didn’t think he’d tell her. “There was a story the newspapers wanted to release about my family and about me. It was very sensitive; I couldn’t let it get out. Normally it doesn’t take much persuasion to keep certain things out of the papers. The extent of this story meant a lot more work had to be done. I wanted to call. I should have.”

“You should have.” 

“Maybe I was afraid you’d distract me. I’ve been alone so long; it doesn’t come naturally to me”-

“I doubt you’ve been alone.”

“You have quite the effect on me.”

Eve gaped. “I have an effect on you?”

“Is it so hard to imagine?” he leaned in, dark eyes fixating on her. Eve gulped.

“I have a feeling I have a similar effect on you too.”

“What was the story about?”

Roman blinked, his head tilting to the side. “I want to make it up to you,” he said.

“By bringing me soup?” Eve noticed how he’d deflected her question about the story. He was hiding it for sure. She wouldn’t push it; she’d store it away for later on if she ever got the chance to ask again.

“-By taking you out this weekend.”

“I can’t, I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Washing my hair.” His head titled to the other side and his face crinkled again.

“Oh Eve,” he sighed. “If only I could kiss you.”

“What makes you think I’d let you I if weren’t sick?”

He moved in closer, her cheeks heated and flushed hot red. He put a hand to her forehead. “It must be so hard with me around,” he mused.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

*

The text came later the same day.

Roman had left an hour ago to go to a meeting.

Eve had struggled with his departure. Having him here, within breathing, sneezing and coughing distance and she could do nothing about it.

The text beeped on her old fashioned phone.

From Roman. She opened it up. 

This coming weekend. See me, I want to show you something.

Her heart leapt momentarily. It wasn’t the conventional text; she figured he wasn’t the texting type. She shouldn’t go, yet the way he’d taken care of her warmed her more than the duvet could. She shouldn’t read too much into this side of him, he would turn again. She texted back, a smile floating in place.

Please accept my response as a non response. Have a lot of hair to wash this weekend.

His message arrived less than a minute later. She couldn’t help smile at his prompt response, finally feeling she’d gotten under his skin.

Luckily I’m not an accepting person. I’m a demanding one. I’ll come for you and you’ll come for me too.

Eve bit her lip. She held out for a few agonising minutes before replying. She was going to make him sweat. 

I’m not that easy and no thank you I’m busy.

His message arrived moments after hers.

No, you’re not. I left something under your coffee table. 

What? Her eyes shot to the coffee table in front of her, it was a low rise pine table. Her head craned beneath it and indeed there was a package…how had she not noticed it before? Stupid question, she was ridiculously sick.

She retrieved the package, fingering the brown paper, held in place with a string. What was it? It was heavy in her hands, weighing onto her lap. She tore open the paper and found more paper, white with typed words and a memory stick attached.

Her brow knitted in complete confusion, was it documents she’d forgotten to review? Why had he given them to her?

She read the words…
Oh my god.
Her stomach seized. They were
her
words from her moleskin notebook. How did he…?

Another message arrived on her phone.

Do you like it?

Eve was in a daze as she watched the screen.

Another message popped up.

I had your notebook typed up so you could keep working on it.

She stared at the screen. Another message;

Eve?

She responded after a few beats. 

I might still be sick.

She didn’t know what to say about the manuscript. Sweat broke out on her forehead, cold chills wracking her body. It was the most amazing thing anyone had ever done for her and it left her empty for some reason, utterly naked.

His message showed up moments later.

That would be a terrible shame. I won’t give up.

A shiver ran down her spine. Eve collapsed on the bed clutching her phone.

She should reply. Her heart roared under her hand, her pulse vibrating all the way down to her fingertips. She should reply.

A lilt of a smile mused across her face.

Or she could not. She clutched the manuscript to her chest.

How was that for not easy?

 

 

33

 

 

 

It was Saturday morning when he finally came for her.

“Eve,” Roman let out a hiss as he stood in the doorway. “You look”- Her heart hammered in her veins. Until this moment she wasn’t sure what to expect, what to think. She half expected him not to show. Her whole body had been on edge ever since those messages and oddly despite being sick she felt on top if the world.

“You don’t like it?” Eve said. She’d spent the better part of her morning getting ready. Her dress flared out beneath her in delicate blue and white, her hands knotting into its sides.

His head cocked to the side, a smile lilting in place. “Turn around,” he said. The way he said it-

Eve caught his mood, her own mouth tugging up, her body relaxing marginally. She twirled on the spot letting the folds flare out beneath her cinching in at the waist. She was a blue and white daisy in peep toe red heels. Her lipstick was a delicate rose and she wore silver hoop earrings that chimed as she swayed. Her hair was done up neat this time to accommodate her day dress. She felt the same childlike existence she had when Rome had been with her during the week. She let out a giggle. Eve couldn’t remember the last time she was done up like this, except the night in the limo. “Am I dressed right? You didn’t tell me what we were doing.”

“I didn’t,” there was a twinkle in his eye. The two regarded each other. He put out his arm, “you’re so”-

“Innocent, sweat, out-of-my-depth?”

“Disarming.” She took his arm.

“I can live with that,” she said. With Roman she was more confident and nervous at the same time. He made her feel magnetic, alive and he also made her feel naked. She’d have to get used to it if they were to see each other again. 

“Did you like my present?”

“Oh my-I’m so sorry. I wanted to say thank you. I forgot. I”-

“You liked it?” she nodded a deep shade of crimson.

“How did you know where my notebook was?”

“You may not recall telling me where you kept it.”

“And you typed it up?”

“I diverted one of my interns from a matter that was pertinent to an even more important matter.” Sweat beaded across her brow.

“You shouldn’t have.”

“I could tell it meant a lot to you,” she held his gaze searching in those eyes. How could Roman Pierce be so insightful and so sensitive when she was willing to think the worst? “You seem surprised.”

“No I”-Her phone buzzed one last time. Eve put it on silent as she placed it in her handbag. They weren’t going to be disturbed tonight. She’d ignored Trigger’s messages all week, she wasn’t about to talk to him for the time being. 

Her skin was bare except for a soft shawl hanging from her shoulders. The night was mild in the late summer. Her arm touched his and her breath caught. Her knees jellied a little, she’d have to step extra careful not to fall down the stairs.

“Where are we going?” Eve asked as her foot landed safely on the last step. She could let go of Roman’s arm though she didn’t want to. She needed his weight like a crutch.

“Dinner at my place.”

“It’s not even sundown.”

“Exactly.” They stood outside her building.

A shimmering Audi awaited them; resembling a stealth bomber in the dark with sleek curves and silver lines.
He took her hand, squeezing it gently and led her into his car.

              “No limousine?”

“Not this time. I want absolute privacy,” his voice was hoarse and carried all the way into her core igniting her blood. Panic flared amidst the ecstasy as she sat in the passenger seat of his Audi.

He wanted her alone. He wanted her
alone.
It could only mean one thing.

Her belly surged and the blood that should have been flowing to her brain suddenly flowed elsewhere fuelling down there, purring her on like a kitten.

It was love and lust and years of waiting. How could she tell him it would be her first? Would he love her more because of it? Tonight was the night she would loose it. Tonight. Finally.

“Eve,” he breathed, bringing her back to the present. She turned to him inches from hers. “You’re not a child so I shouldn’t have to tell you to put your seat beat on.”

He wasn’t angry, far from it as he leaned over and pulled the strap over her waist. Her breathing stilled as his fingers brushed along her arm. “I do like tucking you in.”

The engine revved to life and they took off. The car took her by surprise. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in one. Trisha didn’t have one and Eve didn’t see the point of owning one if she lived next to the subway.

The engine hummed a soft purr like the kitten purring inside her. For a moment she thought it was herself, unleashed. She felt the vibrating thrum in her seat, her legs crossed, making the sensation stronger thrumming harder against her Sex. How had she become this sensitive in a heartbeat?

She gleaned over to her companion; his perfection in the near light was all hard angles and curving lips. Her breathing rose, constricted in her chest enhancing dress. Oh how he would be touching her in a matter of hours. Less. If he truly wanted her despite her secret. She couldn’t wait so long, she wanted his hands on her. The thought of him…the purr of the engine against her Sex.

Her eyes closed. Her mouth parted. She moaned.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself there,” he rested a hand on her thigh and squeezed. Her legs writhed beneath his touch, her breathing accelerated.

“You seem excited,” his eyes were warm liquid pools and a nervous giggle erupted from her. A shiver ignited between her legs, she was moist like a tropical jungle.

“What’s on your mind?” his hand moved up her thigh and for a moment Eve closed off her visual senses and curved her hips. She opened them in a flush aware of where she was and what she was doing.

“Eve don’t be bashful, are you afraid to enjoy yourself?” his gaze was hot as lit coals as he turned to her, then back on the road. The speedometer increased.

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on the road?” she swallowed.

“Alas, the duty of driving,” he let out a breath in a hiss and placed his other hand on the steering wheel. Without him, the feeling subsided.

Though it lingered all the same. 

The car finally slowed outside a gate, the twilight sky gliding behind French provincial chateau peeks. This wasn’t New York anymore. How long had they been driving?

“You don’t live in the city?” Eve’s mouth dropped.

“I have more than one residency.”

She could kick herself for all her dumb remarks. Of course he had more than one place, he was Roman Pierce after all, the man, the money and the company.

“This is”-

“Do you like it?” Roman said.

“I”-

“It’s a late eighteenth century build. It suffered damages a few decades ago. All that remains is the front of it.” Eve pressed her hands to the window as the Audi circled the driveway, out of the side peeked a hint of what Roman was referring to. White cement and glass stood behind the chateau front like a fake wild western with merely a billboard for a house.

“Is it a Serea?”

His brow shot up. “You’re full of surprises.”

Eve swallowed, she shouldn’t have said anything. “I know his restorations, his take on past and present. They’re magnificent.”

Eve had seen this architect’s work before, in her past life, she’d lived in it. He wouldn’t be able to deduce that, would he? No. She could be into architecture, as a hobby. A
hobby.

Her father’s words came back to haunt her.

“Evee, child, you remember what I told you?” he bent down to look at her.

“Yes, Papa, it is a marriage of old and new. We keep the old history of our family”-

“But as businessmen we move forward into the future,” he finished her words. Businessman,
that’s what he’d called himself.

Later on she would learn exactly what her father was.

“Eve,” Roman’s hand tightened over her own bringing her back to the now.

“Would you like a tour?” the way he said it had her biting her tongue.

BOOK: The Temp
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