Toxic (20 page)

He took a step closer and brought my hips to his. “The bottom line is she has connections that I have benefited from immensely. The only cost to me was that I had to show up at a few events and spend some time with her. I didn’t care then. But now it’s different. I’m with you. And I can see where what Avery wants from me might blur the lines of business so I’ll make sure in the future that doesn’t happen.”

I lifted on my toes and gave him a light kiss. “I’m with you too, and I have to trust you just like you have to trust me. Jamie is my best friend. There’s never been more than friendship between us.”

He leaned down and kissed me. “I know that. It was a knee-jerk reaction. I shouldn’t have said anything. And besides, we have a more pressing matter.”

I smiled at him. “What might that be?”

He walked us toward the bed. “We need to get some breakfast and you have no clothes.”

I looked down at myself. “Yes, that’s a problem.”

He picked me up and tossed me on the bed. “I guess that just means we know what we’re doing today.”

I raised a questioning brow.

“Staying in,” he replied with a wicked grin.

I giggled. “Do you have any leftover pizza?”

He crawled up the mattress and stopped when he was hovering above me. “I might and I think I have eggs too.”

“Mmmm . . .” I moaned. “Sounds delicious.”

His tongue circled my ear. “Then the breakfast dilemma is solved.”

“I still need to go home at some point.”

He licked down my neck. “I’ll take you there later to get some stuff.”

Reluctantly, I lifted his chin so I could gaze at him. He looked magnificent above me and I wished I could have captured the fire in his eyes. They were burning. And so was I, but I knew my next words very well might douse the flame. “I can’t stay here.”

Jeremy pushed my hands over my head and held them there as he gazed down at me. “Sure you can,” he said as he trailed featherlike kisses down my neck.

“I can’t. I have to work,” I managed to say.

His free hand lifted the hem of my T-shirt and his fingers trailed up my bare thigh. “You can go to work from here. I’ll drive you. In fact, I’ll split my time.”

Perplexed, I asked, “What do you mean, split your time?”

His mouth and teeth were working right at the base of my throat. “I’ll spend the mornings at TSC and the afternoons here working on Jet Set contracts, then I’ll return to get you.”

I remained silent as I thought about his offer. I had a funny thought about having my wicked way with my driver but honestly everything about what he was doing to me right now had me slipping into a lust-induced coma.

“Phoebe.” He tugged a little on my wrists as if he sensed he was losing me. The stretch followed by a tinge of pain felt good.

I arched my body, giving in to the sensations and purred, “You have it all worked out.”

Jeremy’s gaze roamed my face. “It wasn’t that difficult. And we do have a lot to iron out in a short period of time.”

“A lot of what?” I moaned.

His trail of kisses led to my chest. “Work for Sinners.”

Gooseflesh covered my skin as I considered my options and what they meant.

“Of course, I’ll be there either way,” he assured me.

A pleasurable pain rushed through my body as he sucked deeply on my nipple. “I can’t think like this,” I said and bolted upright.

Jeremy McQueen’s grin was devilishly wicked.

I pushed the hair from my eyes and took a few calming breaths before I dared look back toward him. When I did, I pointed my finger at him. “From now on, we keep business separate from pleasure.”

That devilish grin turned downright evil and then a roar of laughter filled the room.

I joined in. There I was, sitting up, naked, still lolling in my post-bliss state trying to sound authoritative.

Quite abruptly I found myself on my back again. “I promise, from now on, I will try my hardest to separate the two.”

As my arousal became more than evident in the new position we were in, I arched my back and gave in to him. “Okay then.”

The mattress seemed to melt beneath me when Jeremy rested his fingers on my clit. “Is that a yes?”

My breathing became labored as I stared up at him. His eyes were low-lidded with his own longing. His hair was a mussed mess that I found to be such a turn-on. Everything about him thrilled me. And not just his looks. The way he held me. The heat and hardness of his body so close to mine. The way he was looking at me. The way I was anticipating his touch. The way he wanted to help me save TSC, and I answered with the only word that made sense, “Yes.”

His fingers started moving and I writhed beneath his touch. “Good. And you don’t have to set an alarm. I’ll wake you up.”

“You will? How do you plan to do that?” I teased.

His grin was wicked. “My tongue in your pussy should do the job just fine.”

“Every morning?”

He inserted a finger inside me and said, “Every. Single. Morning.”

Oh. My. God.

Bedroom to Boardroom

I was in serious trouble.

Jeremy was everywhere—even when he wasn’t around.

All I had to do was close my eyes, and I could feel the way his touch made my skin tingle, I could imagine his body as he crushed his to mine, I could hear the sounds he made when he came.

It had been only a week but he was already living in my head.

I was lost in him.

I shook off the thought.

It scared me.

Yet, in his presence, I was anything but afraid. Enamored, awed, consumed, ravenous, passionate, the list could go on for miles because those were just a few of the emotions I felt when he was near me.

And near me he was. Each morning I awoke in the most delicious way and then after we showered and got ready, he drove both of us to my office. Jeremy stayed at TSC to work on the Sinners project plan with the team we had assembled. The cross-functional project team consisted of a TSC staff accountant, a regional sales manager from a liquor distribution company, an interior designer, a Jet Set club manager, Hunter, Jeremy, and myself.

And as cliché as it sounded, Jeremy and I were equally as compatible in the boardroom as we were in the bedroom. We worked well together. Working side by side with Jeremy made it easy to see how he’d been able to make Jet Set as successful as he had. He was not only brilliant but he worked day and night. It felt like we were a real team and, to my chagrin, we had remained completely professional whenever anyone was around. Behind closed doors, not always so much.

Smoldering attraction aside, we made real progress during the week. Jeremy’s contacts were innumerable and preliminary designs had already been drawn up, estimates received, and a high-level implementation plan completed. In a record five days we’d put together what I needed to move to the next phase of the Sinners project, which was securing funding.

The days started dreadfully early: We’d arrived at the office by seven every day this week. Sometime in the late afternoon, Jeremy would leave TSC to tend to Jet Set matters. He had mentioned that Theo Lake was a huge lead, as was Harvey Majors. Jeremy said he signed over five thousand members this week alone with their connections.

Huge.

And even still, he returned each night to pick me up without complaint. Sometimes he drove, sometimes he used the Rose Bar’s car service. It depended where we were headed after dinner. Jeremy made it a habit to pop in the Jet Set locations to check on business nightly. Tuesday night he wanted to go to Finale. We ended up staying and having a few drinks. He said he didn’t dance, but I was still smiling to myself at the way I got him to. Dark, crowded places lent themselves to wandering hands very nicely.

I’d been in such a lustful haze since Jeremy reentered my life. I’d tried to shake off the endless desire that’s flowing through my veins and focus on work when I was in the office but sometimes I just had to force myself. And it was one of those times. I looked down at the first task for the next phase—the request for investment packets that had been expertly bound. There were five of them, but I would be submitting only four.

Since TSC’s line of credit was already at its limit, I had to seek funding from potential investors in the private sector and Dawson was one of those potential investors. Jeremy vehemently disagreed with soliciting aid from him. I concurred with him, but for entirely different reasons. I knew Dawson would say yes regardless of what he thought of the project and I didn’t want to put him in that situation. Jeremy, on the other hand, didn’t want me working closely with him. He said he didn’t trust him. I’d decided to bite my tongue and let the whole alpha male, macho man thing roll off my back.

Anyway, the packets were going to be hand delivered tonight. Included with the portfolio analysis and projections were 3D models. Looking at the packets gave me a jolt of hope. Hunter and I had decided on the personal touch—no e-mailed attachments. The packages were complete with a visionary letter I’d written myself. The proposal was thorough, analytical, and detailed. I just hoped it was enough to get the investors to buy into the resurrection of the Saint Hotels.

Biting my nails, I started to worry about what would happen if I didn’t get the funding. It would mean the end of TSC. Even if I did get the funding, if Sinners wasn’t successful, it would also mean the end of TSC. With cash flow in the red, we were dangerously close to having too much stock on the open market. If I lost control of TSC, the decisions for its future would no longer be mine. It was clear at this point, any sane business person would see the company was hanging on by a thread and selling it off in pieces would be the most profitable decision. I, however, refused to do that. This was my family legacy and I was going to fight for it with all I had.

My cell rang and I welcomed the distraction from my dire thoughts when I saw who it was.

“Lily, I miss you,” I answered.

“I don’t see how you’ve had time. Page Six has you involved in the biggest love triangle since Jennifer, Brad, and Angelina,” she scoffed.

I rolled my eyes. “If you would call me back, you wouldn’t have to read Page Six to find out what’s going on in my life.”

“Yeah.” She dragged the word out. “Things have been a little crazy around here but I’m calling you back now. Poppy must be a wreck with all the negative attention you’re getting.”

I tried not to be offended by her word choice. “Honestly, when I talked to her this week, she didn’t even mention it, so neither did I.”

Lily snorted. “Really?”

I slid my hand over the shiny clear cover of one of the packets. “Really.”

I was just as perplexed as she was. I was almost certain the wrath of my mother would cause chaos this week when I really needed to focus but to my surprise she remained utterly silent about the situation.

“So . . . spill all the gory details,” she demanded.

I gave a little huff. “Wait . . . you know it’s not true. Don’t you?”

Whereas I refused to peruse the gossip, entertainment, and pop culture source, Lily and Poppy were religious about reading the NYPost.com, specifically Page Six.

“Sure, of course I do. But they’re doing a good job of making the story believable. Jeremy’s been photographed with Avery quite a bit, you know.”

Lily didn’t sound convinced that I wasn’t involved in a love triangle. Was there something I was missing?
No, of course not.
He’d been with me every night.

Still, I sighed awkwardly. “I told you he was out with her for work.”

Silence.

“Lily,” I prompted.

She blew out a breath. “Okay, okay. It’s just Brad denied it for a long time too.”

An uncomfortable silence swelled between us and I frowned. The thought that Jeremy could be seeing Avery behind my back sickened me.

“Phoebe, look, I’m just being honest with you—the photos look like more than just work. But you’re there and I’m here. So what do I know? I’m sure Jeremy is telling you the truth and besides, it’s not like there’s anything overtly sexual about their touches or the way he—”

Touches?

I blocked her out and abandoned my caressing of the packets to click my mouse. As the computer came to life, I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. I didn’t need to see those pictures. Jeremy and I had both agreed it was best to ignore the media storm in order to avoid our own shit storm. Hmmm . . . which of us had actually said that?

My fingers trembled as they hovered over the keyboard and I contemplated typing Jeremy’s name in the search bar. But as my index finger tapped the J, I couldn’t do it. Memories of the intimacies we’d shared assaulted me and eclipsed all my doubts. So as Page Six filled my screen, I immediately closed the window. Nope. Not going there. I directed my attention back to Lily, who was still talking, and cut her off. “Well, I’m not worried about Avery. She and Jeremy had a short-lived thing. It’s over,” I reassured my friend and to be honest, I was reassuring myself as well.

“Right, right. I got your texts. They slept together once and that was it.”

“You still don’t sound convinced.”

“Nonsense. I’m happy for you. I still can’t believe you’re living with him though,” Lily said.

I chewed on my bottom lip. “I am not living with him. I told him I’d stay the week.”

“Yes, so you said. And if things continue like they did in the past, you’ll be there next week and the week after, and the week after that. So you might as well just move in now.”

I hesitated. “No, that’s not going to happen.”

“Oh, come on, who wouldn’t want to wake up like that every morning.”

“Yes, a girl could get used to that,” I said dreamily.

“So tell me some more. How’s the sex? Has he tied you up yet?”

“Lily! You know I’m not into that kinky stuff.”

“Well, give me something. Tell me it’s better than that summer you spent with him at least? Something in his eyes tells me he only gets better with time.”

“Lily! He’s not a wine. What’s going on with you? Isn’t your own wild sex life enough?”

Her sigh was filled with exasperation. “If you must know, Preston and I have decided to hold off on having sex this time around.”

“What? Why?” I asked, flabbergasted.

“We need to work on our relationship and Preston says sex dulls the real issues.”

“Preston says that, does he? I thought you wore the pants in the relationship.”

“I always did before. But he’s been insistent.”

“So no sex? For how long?” I couldn’t believe it.

She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure but it’s killing me.”

I twirled in my chair to look at the park. “Well, are your problems getting better at least?”

“No. That’s just it. Nothing has changed. We will always be on competing sides in the fashion industry.”

“You can work through it though, Lily. I know you can.”

“I’m not so sure that’s even the problem anymore. We’ve been fighting so much this time. We’re coming back to the city next Friday and if we don’t feel things have improved between us, we’re going to spend some more time apart.”

I turned back around. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope. But I do want to talk about Jamie. I can’t believe he got married. Page Six is declaring one of the city’s most eligible bachelors has been taken off the market. What do you think? Is he serious about . . . What’s her name?”

I laughed. “Her name is Lindsay.”

“Right, the Victoria’s Secret model with the red hair that was on the Christmas cover last year.”

“That’s the one.”

“So what do you think?”

I opened each of the packets and slid the personal note in. All that was left for me to do was sign each of them before putting them in the courier envelopes. “I’m meeting her tonight, so I’ll let you know.”

There was a knock on the door. It opened and I glanced up to see the courier was standing there. I held up a finger. “Lily, I’m sorry to cut you short but I have to go.”

“So soon?”

“Yes, someone is waiting for me. But I’m so excited you’ll be home soon.”

“I’m excited too. And when I get there, I want dirt, St. Claire.”

“See you,” I said with a lilting tone in my voice and hung up.

I looked up. “Just one minute please.”

Taking a deep breath, I signed the first one. Then I let the breath out and signed the remaining three. Once I stuffed them in the envelopes, I picked them up. “Here you go.” I smiled.

“Have a good evening, ma’am,” the courier said as he took the lifeline to my business in his hand and closed the door behind him. The deadline for responses was next Friday.

It was going to be a long week.

I stared at the one remaining envelope for a few moments and then shoved it into my top drawer. When I did, I saw the apartment keys Hunter had given me. I needed to get over to the Times Square penthouse this weekend. I knew I should probably just leave it alone, but I had a curiosity that needed to be settled. I shoved the smaller envelope in the little black lizard clutch Mrs. Bardot had given me last week and then glanced at the time. Almost six. Jeremy should have arrived by now.

Just as I started to pack up, my office phone rang. We had dinner plans with Jamie and his new wife, at six thirty. Jeremy thought it would be more intimate for all of us to eat at his place rather than go out, since the point of the meal was for me to get to know Jamie’s wife—
wife
, the word sounded foreign on my tongue.

Jeremy had arranged for the chef at one of the restaurants he was considering adding to the Jet Set portfolio to come and cook for us.

“Phoebe St. Claire,” I answered.

His gruff voice breathed into the phone. “Hey, I wanted to see if you received the design schematics yet?”

My eyes darted to the blueprints on my desk. “I did.”

“And,” he drawled out.

I turned in my chair to look out the window. “And, I think Sinners will be the hottest club in town before we even open.”

“Hey, not that I mind a little competition, but let’s take it one step at a time.”

Way to spoil the fun.

My sigh was soft. “I know. I know. I shouldn’t get my hopes up but I’m just so excited.”

“Good.”

“Where are you?” I asked.

His voice dipped to a low rumble. “Outside your door.”

I laughed. “Do I want to know why you’re calling me from outside my door?”

“I think you might.” There was hint of naughtiness in his tone.

I found it hard to find my voice with all the noise the butterflies were making in my belly with their fluttering. “I’m listening.”

“I didn’t want to mix business with pleasure.”

My heart started to pound. “Pleasure?”

“Yes, Phoebe, pleasure.”

I looked around my office like someone might be listening before speaking. “I think you need to explain.”

“Oh, no explanation will be needed.”

My voice grew breathy. “I’m intrigued.”

“Do you have anything else to discuss about Sinners?”

Estimates, contracts, and vendor agreements were piled on my desk but everything was labeled and straightforward. “No. You’ve made it all so easy to navigate.”