Chapter 23

23

Lena

That alphahole. That gloating, self-satisfied, smug-assed… charismatic hunk of masculinity. Gah! Stop that, don't go there. Focus on how much you hate the guy. And I do. I press the heels of my palms into my burning eyes. I'm so tired. After walking out of JJ's office, I called an emergency meeting for the creatives and gave them JJ's feedback. To say they weren't happy about the changes he wanted was putting it mildly. The head creative threw a fit. He'd refused to work on the copy and threatened to walk out, until I'd promised him I'd get him a commission if we won the account. Not that I have the authority to do that, but if we don't win this account, my days at Kane Enterprises are numbered. So, I stretched the truth and incentivized him. He finally got down to work, and after brainstorming with the rest of the creative team, he sent me the revised copy. By which time it was already 6 p.m. I ordered pizza for the team, on the office account—which JJ could well afford—then buckled down with the design team to mock up the ad images. I had these in place by 8 p.m. Then I returned to my desk, and surrounded by the now empty cubicles of my co-workers, I started reworking the presentation.

It's nearly 10 p.m. now, and I'm not even halfway through the slides. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My nose itches, my throat aches, and my eyes burn. I lean my head back against the seat and take a breath. I can do this. I want this. I do. My stomach grumbles. When's the last time I ate? Breakfast was a banana as I rushed out of the house, and then... I haven't eaten anything since. No wonder I'm feeling faint. I need to get through this presentation, though. I can't fail at my first assignment at Kane Enterprises. I square my shoulders, then look up and cry out, "What the?—"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," JJ murmurs from his position next to my cubicle. "Just got you this." He places a paper bag next to my computer.

I glance at it, then at him. "What's this?"

"You skipped lunch."

"So?" I fold my arms cross my chest. "What's it to you, anyway?"

"You need your strength to work on the presentation. Can't have you keeling over now, can I?"

"Of course not." I turn back to the computer and begin to type onto the keyboard.

"Eat first," he growls.

"I'll eat when I'm taking my next break."

"Eat. Now," he snaps.

I stiffen. "I told you. I'll eat when I'm ready."

He moves forward. The next second he's grabbed the back of my seat and turned it around so I'm facing him.

"What?" I scowl.

"Don't disobey me."

"Who do you think you are that I should obey you?"

"I'm your boss and you live under my roof. Also..." He hesitates. "I'm your boyfriend's father. It's in my interest to make sure you are taken care of."

I stare at him, then burst out laughing. "Really? Really, you're going there now?"

"There's nothing to laugh about. Eat your dinner first, then continue working."

"Okay, Daddy," I murmur. There it is. I said it aloud. There's no going back now. But damn if I care anymore.

His nostrils flare. His dark gaze grows intense. He lowers to his knees and glares into my features. "What did you say?"

"You heard me." I toss my hair over my shoulder. "You're the one making moves on your son's girlfriend, I hope your conscience can cope with that."

"You're the one who can't look at me without blushing, who shuffles her feet and can't stop twitching her butt whenever she's in my vicinity."

"Hey, don't blame your stalker tendencies on me."

He stiffens, then draws himself up to his full height. "Are you implying I'm watching you?"

"Aren't you?"

"I haven't seen you in three days."

"The very fact that you went out of your way to avoid me is another sign that you feel an affinity for me."

"I'm not sure I'd call it an affinity; more like an itch I need to scratch."

I gape at him. "Seriously? Did you just say that to my face?"

"Best to be up-front about what this is. Explosive chemistry. Nevertheless, it's only a physical attraction. If we fuck it out of our systems, we can both move on."

"A-n-d, I can't believe you'd stoop low enough to proposition your son's girlfriend."

"At least I am being up-front about what I want. I'm not the one lying to myself and those around me."

"I'm not going to stay here and listen to you insult me. I?—"

I begin to rise to my feet, but he firms his lips. "Sit down, Lena."

I sit. What the hell? How can he control me this easily? I am not a pliable woman. I'm not. But with this man? I want to resist him, but everything in my body insists I obey his commands.

"What do you want?" I glance up at him. I really shouldn't be talking to him. In fact, right about now I should be rising to my feet, brushing past him and out the door. I shouldn't engage with him, except as necessary for my job. Which, to be fair, is what I've been doing so far. But when I didn't see him for a few days, I admit, I missed him. Isn't that screwed up?

I peer into his face, and everything I'm feeling is reflected there. Damn, this is not helping things at all. I'd hoped I could resist him, but the more days I spend under his roof, the more I sense his presence in the same space—even when I'm not in the same room as him. What a mess.

"What do you want, JJ?" I whisper.

He growls, "I told you, it's Jack."

"I can't call you that."

He bends his knees and looks into my eyes. "Why not? Why can't you call me by my name?"

"Because everyone calls you JJ."

"You're not everyone."

"You can't say things like that," I protest.

"Why the fuck not?"

I narrow my gaze. "Because it gives the wrong impression."

"And what impression is that?"

"That there's something more between us."

"Which there is."

"And I'm your son's girlfriend," I shoot back.

"How long do you think we can tiptoe around whatever this is between us?"

"For as long as I possibly can. I can't do this, JJ. I can't betray Isaac. And with his own father." The pressure behind my eyes builds, and I look away so he doesn't see how close I am to tears.

Of course, jerkface notices.

"Lena, look at me," he growls.

"No." I sniffle.

"Lena," he warns in that hard voice—that Dad voice of his I'm beginning to think of it as— not that I'll ever tell him that.

"Look at me, right now," he snaps.

I do. I turn to him and he peers between my eyes. His jaw flexes. The muscles above his cheekbones flex. A sure sign he's gritting his teeth. If he does this too many more times he's going to crack a molar.

A teardrop squeezes out from the corner of my eye and he looks stricken.

"Lena, please." He reaches over, and before I can pull out of his reach—not that I want to, which is why I'm a second too late—he's already brushing the space below my eyes.

"Don't cry, please." His voice sounds anguished.

"I'm not crying." I shove his hand away and swipe at my face, then paste a fake smile on my lips. "See? No more tears."

"That's a terrible smile." His own lips quirk a little.

"Yours isn't much better," I point out.

He wipes the half-smile off his face and narrows his gaze. "Let me help you, Lena. All you have to do is tell me you want to leave him, and I'll support you in this. I'll talk to him on our behalf?—"

"Don't you dare." I shake my head. "Don't say anything to him, JJ, please don't." I lock my fingers together. "Promise me you won't breathe a word of this to him."

"Breathe a word of what?" a new voice says. Both JJ and I turn to find Isaac standing in front of the cubicle.

JJ straightens.

I stiffen. The blood rushes to my cheeks. I jump up, brush past JJ and head to Isaac. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

"To see me?" I blink.

"I was in the building dropping off the first set of my paintings for Jillian to take a look at."

"You were here to meet my HR manager?" JJ asks.

"You did ask me to use her as my point of contact," Isaac points out, before turning to me. "I thought I'd come by and see how you were doing." He glances between me and his father. "Guess I'm not the only one who had that idea."

My cheeks warm further. I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't. I was only entertaining sinful thoughts about your father, that's all. I shove my hair back from my face. "I won't be done for hours more."

"And I was just leaving." JJ nods toward Isaac, then walks past the both of us. My heart flutters in my chest. And all because he brushed past us. Apparently, not even the fact that his son, my boyfriend, is standing near me is going to tamp down this magnetic pull his father exudes over me.

Isaac searches my features. "Are you okay? You look flushed."

To be fair I'm probably flushed because I'm tired and hungry so I don't need to lie to him but what comes out is, "Ah, it's only because the air-conditioning here hasn't been working properly." Jeez, talk about having a guilty conscience.

"Oh yeah?" He looks around the space. "Feels fine to me."

"Have you eaten dinner?" I blurt out.

"Eh?"

"Dinner?" I mimic shoveling food into my mouth.

"Not yet."

"Wanna share mine?"

"You have your dinner here?"

"Ah, your father—" I bite the inside of my cheek. If I tell him his father got me food, that would sound weird, right? "I ordered food which just got delivered," I lie.

"You ordered food?" He narrows his gaze on me.

"I knew I was going to be working late, and I didn't eat lunch, so—" I raise a shoulder.

He seems like he's going to protest, then nods. "Sure. Why not?"

I pull him in the direction of my table. "Let me get you another chair." I grab the one pushed up against a corner of my cubicle, and place it next to mine. "Sit."

He seems dubious but slides into the seat.

"Wonder what's in here?" I pull out the cartons stamped with the logo of a restaurant that specializes in Indian-Chinese food.

What the—? How does he know I'm addicted to Indian-Chinese food? A particular kind of fusion cuisine popular in the subcontinent and available from a select few outlets in London. And he ordered from the one that's my favorite. My fingers tremble. He's messing with my head. Bet he's having fun with whatever game he's playing with me. And that's all I am to him—a game. He has no compunctions about desiring me, no matter the forbidden nature of our relationship. He's playing with my life, my career, my connection with Isaac—all of it—and he doesn't give a damn.

"You don't know what food you ordered?" Isaac's voice cuts through my thoughts. I glance at him from the corner of my eyes.

Shoot, I knew I shouldn't have said that aloud and trust Isaac who's normally only half present when he's with me to notice what I said.

"Of course, I do." I tilt up my chin. " I just forgot because I'm so tired. And hungry. You know how absentminded I can get."

His muscles stiffen. He narrows his gaze on me. "Lena, you are the most put-together person I know. You're very focused, very ambitious, very driven—the exact opposite of me. It's why I was so attracted to you."

"And I you." I turn and take his hands in mine. "I like the fact that you're easygoing and don't take things too seriously. I like that you give me my space, and let me be."

"Maybe I'm giving you too much space, eh? Maybe I need to be more demanding of you."

He reaches over and tugs the container of food from my hand, then places it on the table. He turns and takes my hands in his, then tugs me forward. I fall against his chest. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me even closer. "Kiss me," he says in a hard voice.

I plant my palms on his chest and try to push away, but his grasp tightens.

"Does it turn you on when I'm rough with you? Do you prefer it when I don't give you a choice? Would you rather I demand your attention, Lena? Is that it?"

"Isaac, stop, what are you doing?"

"What I should have done a long time ago. You think I'm a pushover, Lena? You think I like the fact that I don't make enough money to keep a roof above our heads?"

"I never said that, Isaac."

"But you implied it when you all but forced me to ask my father for help."

"I did it because there was no other way out."

"You could have asked your family to help out."

"They're in LA, and not exactly rolling in money," I protest.

"And my father is," he retorts in a flat voice.

"I had no idea how well off he was until we reached his home, and you know that."

"And now you've lost all respect for me because we're living under his roof." His jaw tics.

"Isaac, please. I'm not judging you at all. This is just temporary, until we get back on our feet."

"So why are you avoiding me?"

"I thought you were the one avoiding me." I protest.

His eyebrows draw down. "I've been home the last two days and I haven't seen you."

"Only because I've been busy. I've been working on this pitch and I need to get it right, and at the last minute, your father changed everything so I now have to rework it and—" To my horror, tears squeeze out again from the corners of my eyes. "Oh shoot." I turn my head and try to pull away from him, but he doesn't let me. "Please, Isaac, let me go."

"No." He removes his arm from around me and pinches my chin. "It's okay to show you're vulnerable. It's fine to share what you're going through. You don't always have to be strong for me, you know."

"Don't I?" I rub the back of my palm across my nose. "You're so busy chasing your muse, you haven't exactly pulled your weight when it comes to paying the bills."

"That's all you think of—paying the bills, cleaning the home, meeting the rent for the month."

"Well, someone has to," I snap.

"There you go, all passive-aggressive again. You clearly don't have a single good word to say about me."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

He pauses. "Do you not want to be with me? Is that it? Would you prefer to be with someone else, Lena?"

"What?" I gape at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You're the one who's implying that you're doing me a favor by being here with me." His jaw hardens. "I know I haven't been the best boyfriend, but if you have an issue with being with me, I'd rather you come out and say it than slyly hint about it."

"I'm doing no such thing." I wriggle in his grasp, and this time, he releases me. I pull away and rise to my feet. "Did you come to pick a fight, Isaac? Is that why you're here?"

"I came to meet you because I missed you."

I stiffen.

"I do, Lena. I miss what we had. We said we'd always be there for the other, remember?"

I glance away, unable to reply. A ball the size of Earth seems to have lodged itself in my throat. I swallow but it does nothing to ease the pressure.

"Lena, you mean so much to me." He takes my hand in his.

I glance at the tiny tattoo on the back of my right wrist, the twin of which is on his left wrist. The tattoo of the outline of a swan. We'd been so happy that day watching the swans swim in The Regent's Park. We'd rollerbladed in the park, eaten ice cream, read on the park bench, then napped on the grass. And we'd laughed so much. I'd been sure I'd found my soul mate. He must have felt the same way, for on our way back as we passed a tattoo shop in Camden Town, he'd pulled me in and surprised me with the tattoo on his wrist. To end a perfect day with the perfect girl, he'd said. In a burst of spontaneity, I'd asked for a twin of the tattoo. I'd been sure I'd end up with him for the rest of my life that day. Now, I'm not so sure.

"Do I?" I take a step back from him. "You have a funny way of showing it."

His gaze narrows. "What do you mean? Did I not accept the job with my father for you? Did I not come by here to check on you and see how you were doing?"

"You didn't have to do that, and you didn't have to oblige me by taking the job with your father for me. Do it because it's going to help your career, Isaac. Don't do it for me."

Isaac flexes his shoulders. He opens his mouth as if to say something, then shakes his head. "You know what? Forget it. I knew I shouldn't have come here today. This is so pointless." He brushes past me and begins to walk away.

"Isaac." I race after him. "Isaac, stop, please."

He heads to the elevator and punches the button.

"Isaac, say something."

"What's there to say, Lena? We can't seem to have a simple conversation without arguing. All I wanted was to see you and say hi to my girlfriend. Instead, as usual, it's turned into a shouting match."

"It wasn't a shouting match. We have differences. It happens. It's normal for a couple to go through ups and downs."

"We've been so down for so long, I can't even remember what up is anymore."

"Isaac, don't leave like this, please."

The elevator dings, the doors open, and he steps inside.

"Isaac, please." I slap my hand on the door to stop it from closing. "Don't go."

"I think it's time I did." His features wear an expression of resignation. "I wish things between us hadn't deteriorated to this stage."

"We can salvage things, Isaac. We can."

"As always, you're the optimist, Lena. It's too bad this time... I'm not sure if I feel the same way."

"Isaac—"

He shakes his head. "I'll see you at home."

The tension in my shoulders leaches out. He's going home. I'll see him at home. He's not leaving me… Yet. I step back and the doors swoosh shut. I spin around and walk back to my cubicle. My knees feel wobbly and cold sweat pools under my armpits. The stress drains out of my muscles and I yawn. I didn't realize just how wound up I'd been from Isaac's visit until now. I yawn again, then slam into a hard wall. A warm, ripped, hard wall. My nose connects with the front of his chest and I draw in large gulps of sherry oak, cinnamon and dark chocolate. My mouth waters. Large warm palms clamp down on my hips, jerking me out of my strange reverie. I glance up to meet his dark gaze.

"What are you doing here?"

"I stuck around to make sure you were okay."

"Of course, I'm okay." I step back, and JJ releases me at once. I walk around him, continuing to my cubicle.

"Have you eaten?"

I drop down into my seat and focus on my screen. The words blur in front of my eyes, but I continue to stare at it.

"Lena, you need to eat to keep up your strength."

"Please stop with your fake concern."

"It's not fake. I'm worried about you. About both of you."

I still. "You heard us arguing?"

He doesn't reply. He doesn't need to. Of course, he did.

"It's impolite to eavesdrop on other people."

"You're my people."

"Like your son, you have a strange way of showing concern. And I don't need it. I just want to be left alone so I can carry on with this pitch, okay?"

"Eat first."

I throw up my hands. "Oh my god, you're so annoying." I reach for the container of food, but he snatches it up, then the bag with the rest of the food.

"What are you doing?"

"Follow me." He stalks back toward the elevator.

"Hey, stop." I spring up and run after him. First the son, then the father—these Kane men are really annoying.

He walks to the elevator, presses the button and the doors open. He steps in, then holds it open for me. "Come on."

"Where?"

"A place where you can enjoy your food in peace."

"I'm not sure it's advisable for us to be alone."

"We're alone on the floor, in case you hadn't noticed."

"I mean alone in an enclosed space." I jerk my chin in the direction of the elevator.

His lips curl. "I confess, I've wanted to push you up against the wall of your cubicle then lift your skirt and spank your lush butt before I fuck you from behind, but this is not one of those times."

"Oh." My jaw falls open. Did he just—? He did, didn't he? How could he? "You?—"

"Get in the elevator, Lena. I promise not to touch you." He lowers his chin to his chest. "Not unless you want me to," he mumbles under his breath.

"Eh? What was that?"

He fixes me with that glare. "Get. In."