Chapter 4

“What the hell is going on with you?” Lenny’s voice was impatient and bewildered as he stared at his friend.

“You are not putting out your best!”

Richard felt the blaze of the other man’s glare and backed down instantly, his anger and frustration dissolving. Spinning away from the desk, he marched over to the liquor cabinet and poured a stiff drink. “I would offer you a shot, but it would not go well with whatever you are taking.”

“I need a clear head anyway. What was going on back there?” Lenny jerked his head in the direction of the studio. They had been there for the past three hours, and Richard had been grouchy as a bear with a sore head.

Nothing had been done to his satisfaction. He had sent one singer rushing out in tears and another so terrified the guy had frozen and refused to perform.

He had been the hardest on Lenny, making him go over the lyrics and having him try it out in different ways, and still he was not satisfied. He had been unreasonable, and that was not like Richard. He was a perfectionist, yes, but his singers always benefited from his rigid standards.

Tonight, he had been insufferable.

“Nothing.”

“Try again. I am not one of those callow newbies who cringe at the sound of your voice.

You are not yourself, and I want to know what the hell is going on.”

“You think because you are ill, I am supposed to hold my punches?” Richard bit out. Tossing back the drink, he relished the sting of the liquor coursing through his esophagus and hitting the lining of his stomach. It also reminded him that aside from the club sandwich his assistant had foisted on him, he had not eaten anything else.

Pouring himself another two fingers, he wandered back to his desk and sat down. “That was unfair.”

“To say the least.” Lenny stared at him quizzically. “When was the last time you got laid?”

Thick dark brows lifted, and a wry smile touched Richard’s lips. “How is that any of your business?”

“You made it mine the minute you start taking it out on us poor unfortunate souls who happen to cross your path. You could always ask her out, you know," he added casually, settling himself against the comfortable padding of the chair.

Richard did not pretend to be ignorant. “Out of the question," he refuted grimly.

“Because of your stupid rule.”

“It’s there for a reason," he growled. It had been two weeks since he assigned the contract to the advertising agency. At first, he had avoided dealing with her, telling himself that if he stayed away, he would put her out of his mind.

But she had been visiting with Lenny one evening when he happened to stop by and the sight of the two of them laughing and behaving familiar had set his hackles up. He had been brusque and rude, leaving only after a few minutes.

Lenny had called him while he was on his way to the club and told him in no uncertain terms that he needed to apologize to her.

“What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Nothing!” he snapped back.

“She is very good at what she does.”

“I know.” His head was pounding, and the liquor was turning around in his gut. The attraction he felt for her was not going away, but he could not afford to mess things up by getting involved with her. “One of the reasons why taking her to my bed would be a hell of a bad idea.”

“She is hurting.”

Richard stared at him sharply. “And you know this how?”

His friend shrugged his shoulders. “We talked. The asshole is calling her. Apparently, he wants to meet, told her he is still in love with her and made a colossal mistake.”

Richard’s fingers tightened on the glass. “Is she going to meet him?”

“She said no. But she is still reeling from the past.”

“Which makes it foolhardy for me to get involved in that kind of mess.”

“She needs someone.”

Richard barked out a laugh. “To ease the pain, you mean?”

“Yea, like that. But if you are going to go to her because you have an itch you want to scratch, then forget it.”

Richard stared at him in amusement. “When did you become her advocate?”

Lenny shifted uncomfortably and avoided his eyes.

“You have the hots for her?” The tone of voice was decidedly menacing.

“What if I did?”

“Is that why she is at your place three days in a row?” Surging forward, Richard pinned his friend with hard green eyes.

“Relax.” Lenny waved a weary hand. “Even if I could get it up, I doubt she would ever be interested in me.” A knowing smile touched his lips. “You got it bad, my friend.”

“It will pass.”

“Sure about that?”

“I am going to make sure.”

*****

Richard’s eyes scoured the room restlessly. His attendance had been necessary, but he was looking for a way to disappear without offending the hostess. He was tired.

A planned vacation to his vineyard in Tuscany had been shelved. It was almost the end of November and there were too many activities planned that needed his presence. He was working with the producer of an upcoming series to select an appropriate soundtrack to accompany the series.

And he was horny as hell. It had been more than a month since a woman had graced his bed, and he realized he was punishing himself. The woman he wanted was off limits. His head snapped back and for a moment, he thought he had conjured her up.

There she was on the arm of some jerk, looking incredibly lovely and wearing a dress of hammered gold. Her hair was loose around her face, and she was laughing at something her date was saying.

What the hell was she doing here? He wondered fractiously. And who the hell was that?

Tossing back the now lukewarm champagne, he threaded his way through the thick crowd, ignoring those who were trying to seek his attention and not stopping until he was standing in front of her.

Barely giving the companion a glance, he focused on her and felt a jolt to the core of him as he stared at her lips. Gold had never looked so damned appealing or so utterly sexy.

“Mr. McBride! Hi.”

“Ms. Sutherland," he inclined his head slightly. “I had no idea you would be here.”

“Tony asked me to accompany him, and I said yes.”

Tearing his eyes away from her face, he finally looked at the man standing next to her and realized that he knew him. “Gallows.”

“Mr. McBride, it’s a pleasure to formally meet you.”

Richard shook the actor’s hand reluctantly, letting go immediately. He wanted to ask what he was doing with her but managed to keep the question to himself.

“Might I have a word with you?”

“I will be by the bar, Collette, join me when you are ready.” With a nod at Richard, the man made his way through the crowd. An uncomfortable silence descended as they stared at each other.

“You said you wanted to talk?”

“Ah, yes,” Taking her arm, he led her toward an unoccupied area. “Champagne?”

“Yes, thanks.”

He nodded to a waiter who hurried over with a laden tray. Plucking two flutes brimming with the pale gold liquid, he handed one to her.

“I meant to call and tell you what an excellent job you are doing.”

She glanced at him in surprise, a smile curving her lips. “Thank you. I really appreciate the encouragement. I had the feeling you were somehow displeased with the way I was doing my job.”

“Why would you- Oh!” He shook his head wryly. “I was less than congenial the last time we saw each other. Lenny might have told you that I am incredibly moody.”

The smile again had him fighting the urge to cover her lips with his curved mouth.

“He might have mentioned that you were sometimes difficult to please.”

“He did huh?”

“Yes.” Her smile widened, and he saw the dimples peeking out. Her eyes were sparkling, her teeth very white against the lushness of her bottom lip.

Reining in his lust, he fought to appear nonchalant. “And what was your response to that?”

“I told him that most creative people were in fact difficult to work with because they demand perfection.”

“You have been spending quite a lot of time with him.”

Her gaze was sharp, and he wondered if his jealousy was showing.

What the hell? Jealousy? Where did that come from?

“He’s a fascinating man and his stories are rather interesting. I am doing a follow up to the story we did on him last week. He has agreed for us to incorporate the struggle with his illness and how it impacted his life’s work. He said his songs are different, the focus is more toward facing mortality and deciding what’s important.”

“Sounds heavy.”

She looked at him curiously. “He said you listened to some of the songs he created since his diagnosis.”

Richard nodded. He was more interested in the movement of her sultry lips than in what she was saying.

“We are in the process of turning them into an album. A song or two might be up for a soundtrack.”

Her eyes sparkled. “That’s wonderful.”

Richard nodded. The crowd eddied around them, and they were getting several curious glances. It was a charity benefit, and he had come minus a date, something he was relieved about. But it also reminded her that she was here with someone, and he was monopolizing her time.

“How do you know Gallows?” he asked abruptly.

“My company works for him. He wanted some PR work, and we came highly recommended. He, along with several celebrities, preferred to work with an agency instead of hiring someone to make them look good to their fans.”

He studied her for a second before firing his next question. “Are you involved with him?”

She lifted startled eyes at him and at first, he thought she was not going to answer.

“No, I am not.”

He felt the relief coursing through his body and took a sip of his drink.

“I have to go.”

Her soft voice jarred him out of his reverie. The disappointment he felt had to be contained somehow. He enjoyed talking to her and wanted to insist that she come back to his place and spend the night. The yearning for her frightened and confused him so much that he had to take a step back.

“Enjoy the rest of the evening.” With a curt nod, he turned on his heels and walked away. Putting the glass away, he headed toward the door and grabbed his jacket. It was going to be a damn long night.

*****

He was going to do it. Almost the entire night, while lying sleepless on his king-sized bed, he had tried to talk himself out of what he had planned. But this morning, in the cold light of day, he knew he could not escape it. He was going to make a move.

He had tossed and turned on the bed, feeling the heat gathering in his sex as he imagined her in bed with him. This morning, he had awoken, grouchy and ill-tempered.

Lenny was right. He was going to have to do something about this situation or he was going to blow his top. Seeing her last night had proven that the attraction he felt for her was not going away. He was going to have to find a way to get it out of his system. What that meant, he had no idea.

He had never been faced with this predicament before and he felt as if he was wading in uncertain waters, ones that were threatening to cover his head.

He would have her come to his office after hours and explain to her that he was attracted and he wanted her permission—he ended the ridiculous thought abruptly. What exactly did he want her permission to do? To have sex?

Cutting off a curse, he put away the weights he had been working with and sat on the edge of the bench, sweat dripping off his face. He did his own workout regime, shying away from using a personal trainer.

He did not condemn his colleagues who acquired the use of so-called experts, but he preferred to slug through the routine on his own time and his own way.

He tackled the treadmill first, jogging and then breaking into a fast pace after half an hour, and then he did the weight training.

His muscles were sleek and hard, his stomach washboard flat. He was not bulky by any means, but it showed that he took religious care of his body. He was not on any medication and his last checkup at the doctor had given him a clean bill of health.

He ate healthy, and when time allowed, was involved in various sporting activities at his club.

Reaching for a towel, he mopped the moisture from his face and rose to do his stretches. Taking off his tennis shoes, he padded to the small fridge to get a bottle of water and stood there drinking it thirstily.

He felt marginally better now that he had worked the restlessness from his system, but his body was still on edge and would continue to be until he sorted things out.

With that in mind, he headed upstairs to get ready for the day.

*****

“How was the party?” Babs asked the next morning as she breezed into the office.

“Not bad.” Collette eyed the woman as she went to pour a cup of coffee. “Don’t you have a coffee pot in your office?”

“I do, but somehow, yours tastes so much better. Now tell me everything. I know you went with Tony. Has he put the moves on you yet?”

“No.” She shook her head. “He knows I am not interested in a relationship.”

Babs snorted as she took a sip of coffee. “You keep bandying around that bloody word. What you need is a man who will take you to bed and screw your brains out. What the hell does that have to do with a relationship?” she demanded.

Collette firmed her lips, determined not to allow her friend to get to her. “You know that I am not the type to just have casual sex.”

“And right there is the problem.” Babs pointed the cup at her. “Maybe if you just let your guard down and go with the flow, you will be able to forget what that fool and that bitch of a sister of yours did to you. Find a willing man, get nekkid and do the deed already.”

Collette cast her a wry look. “I have work to do.”

“Take my foolish advice and get laid for the hell of it. You would be surprised at what a good stiff–”

“Babs!”

The woman simply grinned unrepentant as she rose. “You know I am right.” She said before breezing toward the door. Frowning at the open doorway, she wondered why she had told her friend about the meeting with Richard McBride. She was still trying to make heads or tails of their conversation.

He had seemed friendly and courteous, not like that last time in his office. And he had looked so breathtakingly attractive, she could not help but notice how well his tailored suit fitted his broad shoulders.

She shook her head, and surmised that her friend’s bawdy humor was getting to her.

*****

The meetings ran over each other, and he was kept busy for most of the day. But that did not stop him from getting agitated and feeling anxious about his plans for later on. He had not called yet, preferring to do so later, therefore giving her no chance to say no.

His assistant brought him lunch, chilled salad from the kitchen, but he had mostly played around in the damn thing. Ignoring the man’s look of reproach, Richard picked up the phone and called his mother.

She had been calling him for the past two days and he had put off talking to her. He knew he would be subjected to the usual lectures and persistent questions.

“Mother.” Waving his assistant out of the office, he settled back against the chair.

“Darling, I wish you would tell me a particular time I can call and get to speak to you. That Rodney has been giving me the run around–”

“Rodney only acts on my instructions.” A smile curved his lips at her disgruntled tone.

“And I have been very busy. Where’s the fire?”

He waited while she paused. “I am missing some money from my bank account. You know the trust that was set up for me by your dear father? The one you took over?” Richard’s mouth tightened in irritation.

Ruth McBride was the typical helpless female. When she was married to his dad, she had left everything up to him. Richard recalled instances when the man would barely refrain from patting her head and shooing her out of the room whenever there was a discussion that pertained to business.

And she had never seemed to mind.

“Who has access to the account?” He strove to keep the impatience out of his voice.

“You are upset.”

“Mother.”

A theatrical sigh sounded in his ear. “Gary. He said he just needed a loan that one time, and I forgot to ask you to change the card.”

“You gave him the account number?”

“He wanted to make an electronic payment. You know how I am when it comes to that sort of thing.”

Richard could just imagine her waving a dismissive hand. “How much?”

Silence again, and this time, he closed his eyes wearily. He had been meaning to limit access to her account but had not gotten around to doing so. The lawyers had warned him that she was prone to making bad business decisions and he had agreed. He just could not bear the thought of her asking him each time she needed something.

“Ten thousand.”

Richard felt anger splintering throughout his body. Gary was her latest husband, and even though his mother had filed for divorce, the son of a bitch who was five years younger than Richard still managed to play on his mother’s soft and vulnerable side.

“That’s embezzlement and I am going to get the lawyers on this immediately. When did this happen, and why wasn’t I alerted?”

“I convinced Mark to let me handle it. Gary said that they were some very dangerous men after him and were going to kill him if he didn’t come up with the money.”

Leaning against his desk, he rubbed his forehead wearily. Even though he had had to assume responsibility for her for most of his life, Richard couldn’t find it in his heart to be upset with her.

It wasn’t her fault that for her entire life, men had treated her with scant regard for her feelings. Her father, his grandfather, had spoiled her and treated her like a Dresden China Doll, keeping her sheltered from everything.

She had left straight from his house to her husband’s, and Richard’s father had been a terrible husband and a worse dad. He had women all over the place. Even though he never flaunted his affairs, he did not believe in hiding it either.

His wife had endured the bitter shame and humiliation of his constant affairs with a smile and head held high. And she had continued to love him, even when he suffered an aneurysm in another woman’s bed. The girl had been young enough to be his daughter.

“Richard?” He hated that her voice was anxious, as if she was expecting to be reprimanded.

“I will deal with it.” He willed the anger away and decided there and then that he was going to do what he should have done from the beginning. She was going to have limited access to the accounts. And he was going to have words with Mark, who should have called him immediately to let him know what was happening.

“Will he go to prison?”

From the tentative sound of her voice, he knew that was the last thing she wanted to happen. If it was up to him, the bastard ass would be nailed to the frigging wall.

“As long as he makes arrangements to have the money returned, he will not serve any jail time. Mother–”

“I know, darling.” The sigh came again. “I need to be more careful, and I promise I will be from now on. Can you forgive me?”

Rubbing a hand at the back of his neck, he closed his eyes wearily and told her yes.