“I have no problem with you being there, Ryder. It’s our project that we’re working on together. Plus, we’re narrowing in closer on a decision. I need you in this meeting.” She pauses, her gaze dropping to her desk. “I know how to separate my personal life from my professional,” she admits softly.
“Good,” I say. “The team is excited to show you what they’ve come up with.”
The slight smile that curls her lips is like a punch to my gut. “I can’t wait to see what they come up with as well. They’re very talented.”
“So are you.” She is. I respect her opinions, the way she thinks. She’s not just a figurehead, as Pilar has said time and again. Violet cares about Fleur. It’s her legacy and she treats it as such.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
I hesitate, not knowing what else to add, so I start for the door. “So I’ll see you at three, then.”
“Yes. Fine.” I glance over my shoulder to see her lift her head, those big brown eyes meeting mine. Pausing, I turn to face her, waiting for her to say something else. Wanting to linger. Wanting to prolong my time with her.
This woman turns me into an idiot every time I’m in her presence. And I don’t like it.
“Ryder.” She murmurs my name, the sound of her voice sending a shock of lust through my veins. I take a step toward her desk, wishing we were back in my office because at least there, no one can see us. I’d give anything to throw her on top of that desk, shove her skirt up past her hips, rip her panties off, and fuck her. Hard. “I … I hate what happened last night.”
I shake my head, shake out the lust-ridden thoughts. “What exactly are you referring to? What we did in the closet?”
“No.” She tilts her head to the side, her cheeks going pink. That she blushes over this is adorable.
And I never think any woman is adorable.
“The fight between me and Lawrence, then,” I say.
She gives me a look. A look that says I should have known better than to do that, and she’s probably right. But she doesn’t say a word, thank Christ. She’s not my mama. Not that I know what it’s like to have a mother in my life …
“You said some pretty awful things to him,” she admonishes. “About me.”
“Nothing that wasn’t true,” I reassure her firmly. “He was using you to get ahead.”
Violet visibly flinches, her eyes narrowing as she stares at me. I shouldn’t have said that. “And what are you doing? Aren’t you using me?”
“At least you know I am,” I say coolly, my mind scrambling. I need to redirect. I just pissed her off royally. Again.
I seem to have a fucking knack for it.
“I see, then.” She sits up straighter and starts moving shit around her desk, trying to look busy. “Three o’clock at the conference room on this floor,” she says crisply. “Don’t be late.”
I know when I’ve been dismissed. Without another word, I leave her office and head toward the elevators, keeping my head bent, not wanting to look anyone in the eye. One smirk from someone and I might do something I’ll regret.
Like smash their face in with my fist.
No one says a word to me and I stop in front of the elevators, pushing the down button as I wait impatiently. I’m watching the numbers light up above the doors, tapping my foot yet again, hoping like hell I don’t run into Lawrence since he seems to always be lurking around, when I hear Pilar’s familiar voice sound from behind me.
“You are causing quite the ruckus around here,” she murmurs.
I barely spare her a glance. “You have zero room to talk.”
The doors slide open and she enters the elevator with me, standing so close our arms brush despite there being no one else in the car with us. “At least I make my mess discreetly. You, on the other hand, engage in a fight with your nemesis at a party, tossing insults at each other in front of people.”
“I hate that fucker,” I mutter as I again resume watching the floor numbers light up.
“He’s a rather good fuck. Quite willing to do whatever I ask of him,” she purrs, making me grimace. The last thing I want to know is how Lawrence fucks her. I’m afraid that if I open my mouth I’ll say something I regret. So I keep quiet.
Pilar hates it when I’m quiet.
She lets out an irritated sound and steps forward, shooting her arm out so she can push the emergency button, and the elevator comes to a jerking halt.
“What the fuck?” I ask, but she’s coming at me, shoving at my shoulders, making me falter backwards.
“What in the world is wrong with you? You’re going to ruin everything.” She hisses out the last word. “Why did you create such a scene with Zachary last night? You don’t even know what I had to do to keep Forrest from hearing about it.”
I’m confused. What does Forrest Fowler have to do with any of this? “What are you talking about?”
She wraps her fingers tight around the lapels of my jacket and glares at me, her expression full of menace. “I’m doing everything to keep the old man happy and trying to make him realize how valuable of an asset I am to this company. All while you’re out fucking around with his daughter—in public, I might remind you—and getting in fights with the very man you want to replace. Did fooling around with Violet Fowler turn you stupid, or what?”
I push her off me, smoothing out the wrinkles her hands left in my jacket. “You have no idea what happened between us last night. The fucker says things to get a reaction out of me. So I’m human. I reacted.”
She rolls her eyes and throws her hands up into the air. “You need to learn some control. Haven’t I taught you anything these last few years?”
Pilar has taught me plenty about the business, but ultimately I’m the con. I’m the one who knows how to bring the hustle. Yet I spend a few stolen moments with Violet here and there and it’s like I forget everything I’ve worked toward. I see her shitty ex-boyfriend and all I want to do is break his fucking nose.
The last thing I need is Pilar irritated with me. Or worse, dead set on exposing what I’m doing. I need to placate her. Calm her down.
“Listen.” I grab hold of her shoulders and give her a gentle shake. “You know as well as I do that Zachary hates me. He hates me as much as I hate him. When he says something, I react. I can’t help it.”
“Well, learn to control it,” she says with a little huff, her eyes softening the slightest bit. “I know I don’t help matters, saying such things to you. Like how good in bed he is.”
She said that again just to piss me off. I refuse to let her get to me. “You’re a bit of a bitch to say things like that, yes,” I say, keeping my tone light. Like I’m teasing her. I’m still pissed, but I don’t want to deal with her when she’s angry. “Bit of a bitch” is an understatement.
Total and complete bitch is more like it.
A little smile curls her lips and relief settles within me. She fell for it. I’ve got her. I know I do. “You’re such a bastard.”
“I know. Together, we’ll be the ones ruling this company someday, not them,” I remind her, hoping like hell she doesn’t notice how hollow my words sound. Because … I don’t mean it. Not anymore. I don’t want to rule Fleur with Pilar by my side.
If I get the chance, I want to rule this company on my own.
Her eyes flicker and she looks away from me. “Of course, darling.” She looks at me once more, her smile as fake as my earlier words. “The two of us together. Sounds perfect.”
She’s lying. There’s another plan in the works and I’m not a part of it.
No problem. I’m ready to cut her out of my plan, too.
The three o’clock meeting with my team and Violet goes relatively smoothly, considering she’s quietly furious with me and I’m keeping my distance. Her sister Rose sits in on the meeting, which saves my ass because she’s the perfect buffer between us. She approves of every single one of my ideas, much to Violet’s disgust.
Not that Violet is going against anything I su
ggest because she’s angry with me. I know the woman has an opinion and has no problem letting it be known. Not everything I’ve suggested or shown was part of my final plan. I’m testing Violet, testing my team. Hell, I’m even testing Rose.
But Rose is in ready agreement with me to piss off her sister. Fucking unbelievable.
I don’t protest, though. It refocuses Violet’s anger away from me.
“I thought we were going with peach,” Rose says, causing Violet to look up from her iPad. She was typing away, making notes and doing her best to avoid making eye contact with me.
“What do you mean, going with peach?” Violet asks, pursing her lips in an adorable pout.
There goes that word again. Adorable. Christ, there has never been one adorable thing in my life, ever. Growing up, I had no siblings, no pets, nothing cute. It was all hard and ugly and noisy. Living in that crap apartment with a father I rarely saw, I was alone. When I was really small, I was scared. Afraid of the dark, afraid of my teachers, afraid of Dad, afraid of random people I walked by on the street. No one cared, though. I felt like nothing.
And I always wanted to be something.
Soon I realized it got me nowhere, being scared. I got tough instead. Life is painful and difficult and a constant struggle, and I fought against my good-for-nothing life. Fought, and eventually I fucking won. I could’ve ended up like every other loser I grew up with, but no. Look at me now, climbing my way up the corporate ladder. Take-charge. Ruthless.
Definitely not what I would call cute or worse, adorable.
Adorable was never even a part of my vocabulary until I started to focus on Violet.
“She’s referring to when we were talking about your lips,” I add, causing Violet to turn her attention to me, her gaze sharp. “Rather your lip gloss. Peachy Pie, remember?”
“Right.” She nods slowly and points toward an image I’d brought her at our what-seems-like-forever-ago dinner. “I prefer this color.” She taps the bright orange and black butterfly that’s perched on top of a woman’s fingertips.
“The orange?” I ask, making a mental note of it. Not a surprise. She’s been drawn to that image from the beginning.
“Yes.” She nods and tugs the image toward her so she can study it closely. “It’s so distinct. And if we make the box glossy …”
“Then you’ll get your glossy perfection?” I ask with a smile.
“That’s too close to Hermès,” Rose adds, making us both look at her. “What? It’s true,” she says directly to Violet. “Orange is their iconic color.”
“Orange and brown,” I say. “And the orange isn’t as bright as this shade.”
“It’s still orange, though,” Violet murmurs, disappointment ringing in her voice.
I can’t stand it. I hate hearing her sad or disappointed. I’m a sucker for her. A fucking sucker, when I vowed at a too-young age that I would never be a sucker for any woman. Ever. Fuck.
When did this happen?
“How about coral? It’s between orange and peach,” I suggest. “And it’ll go perfectly with the mint-green shade you wanted to incorporate into the packaging.”
Violet turns toward me, her eyes meeting mine, dark brown and fathomless. For the first time during this meeting she looks pleased. “That’s perfect. You’re right. Let’s go with coral.” She casts her gaze around the table, her smile growing. “What do you all think?”
Murmurs of approval abound, and we call the end of the meeting within a few minutes of her coral-and-mint-green announcement. Rose sneaks out of the room in a blur, complaining of another meeting she needs to get to, and my team empties the conference room one by one, all of them eagerly talking among themselves, plotting and planning the next stage of packaging.
All the while I remain in the background leaning against the wall, my hands stuffed in my pockets. I vacated my chair the moment Violet ended the meeting, hoping she wouldn’t notice that we were left alone in the room together until it was too late.
“I feel you lurking behind me,” she says, amusement lacing her tone. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re there, Ryder.” She turns to face me, her hands resting on her hips. I let my gaze rove over her, taking her in from the top of her head to the tips of her toes … which I can’t see since they’re encased in sexy-as-hell shoes.
“You’re mad at me.” I don’t bother asking because I already know the truth. “I planned on treading lightly where you’re concerned.”
She ignores my comments. “The meeting went well, don’t you think?”
“All that matters is that you’re pleased.” When she raises her eyebrows, I add, “It’s your name that’s going on the box, after all. This is your line, Violet. What you say goes.”
“I liked your coral suggestion.” A little smile plays at the corners of her lush lips. Lips that are slicked in subtle pink lipstick today. “Rose was driving me crazy.”
“I know,” I say with an answering almost-smile.
“She couldn’t stop agreeing with you. I was tempted to tell her to grow a spine and come up with her own opinion.”
“She did it to piss you off.” I shrug when she gapes at me. “Don’t bother denying it—you know it’s true.”
Violet laughs, the sound soft and sweet in the otherwise quiet of the large room. “People rarely pay attention to the sisterly dynamics between us. I figure most people aren’t aware when we’re trying to get at each other.”
“Oh, I could tell.” Mostly because I pride myself on my people-reading skills. That, and Pilar and I have engaged in similar behavior while at work in the past. She’s the only person I’ve ever felt close to … though I’m starting to feel that way about Violet.
The realization stuns me.
“Well, you’re very perceptive,” Violet says, unaware that she’s just rocked my world.
I clear my throat and focus on her. “She knows about us, I presume?”
Her cheeks color, and the urge to touch her makes me clench my fingers into a tight fist so I won’t. I can’t move too fast again. She’s like a wounded animal that’ll run at first sight of me coming for her. I can’t risk it. “It feels like everyone knows about us,” she says quietly. “After your little fight with Zachary last night.”
“I doubt everyone knows.” I’m such an idiot for letting that asshole get to me. Only a select few saw us arguing last night, but still. “Does that bother you? I know you wanted to keep it secret.”
“I did. I still do. It looks … bad, that I’ve fallen out of Zachary’s arms and into yours.”
That we’re compared to each other makes me want to kill him. At the very least, beat the shit out of him. “You haven’t necessarily fallen into my arms,” I tell her, trying to make light of what’s happening between us. “It’s no one’s business, what we’re doing together.”
“True.”
“And it’s all speculation.”
“With the exception of you describing to Zachary exactly what you did to me in that closet,” she says dryly.
That’s right. I did. Don’t regret it, either. “Something else will happen in the next day or two to divert their attention. They’ll find someone new to talk about,” I reassure her. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not.” She studies me, her gaze dropping to my chest as she takes a deep breath. “It made me angry, what you said earlier. That Zachary was using me.”
“I know.” I’m not going to pretend I’m unaware of her moods. She’s like an open book. And a terrible liar.
The complete opposite of me.
“And for whatever reason, it … hurt when you said you were using me, too.” She rolls her eyes and waves a hand, as if dismissing what she just said. “I know it’s stupid. We’ve said from the get-go that we were using each other. You offered yourself up to me. You wanted to do this to make Zachary mad and I suppose you’ve done just that, so I’m guessing now that you’re … through with me.”
The disappointment in her voice, that’
s written all over her, is palpable. “I suppose,” I agree, causing her to inhale sharply. Great, I’ve stunned her. But I’m doing it on purpose. Hoping to turn this into exactly what I envisioned.
“All right,” she says with that defiant little tilt of her chin. “At least I know where I stand with you.”
I push away from the wall and take a step toward her, my gaze intent on her face. “Do you, Violet?”
She backs up a step. “I thought so.”
“So where do you stand with me?” I’m toying with her again. Trying to confuse her. It’s so easy that I can’t help myself.
“What happened between us is … done.” She’s disappointed by the idea and her sadness gives me strength.
“Do you want it to be done?” Every step I take toward her, she steps backwards, until her butt hits the edge of the conference table and I have her trapped. I’m all she can see, all she can reach out and touch besides the table, which is cold and hard beneath her ass.
And here I am, cold and hard and standing in front of her. Not much difference, really.
“I …” She clears her throat. “What do you want?”
“I asked first.” Reaching out, I give in to my urges and touch her face. Drift my fingers across her cheek, along her jaw, pressing my thumb into her chin. She parts her lips, a shuddery breath escaping her, and I’m tempted to lean in and kiss her.
But I don’t.
“You confuse me,” she whispers. “I-I don’t like you very much sometimes.”
Ouch. “I can’t blame you.”
“But you look at me and I feel … I don’t know what I feel. And when you touch me …” She closes her eyes as I trace her lower lip with my index finger, then her upper lip. She has the most perfect lips I’ve ever seen, ever touched, ever tasted. “I want you to keep doing it,” she confesses softly.
“Keep doing what?” I step in between her legs and press my body to hers, slipping my arm around her waist. I shouldn’t do this. I need to show some restraint. The constant back-and-forth between us is confusing. Both to her and to me.
“Touching me. I want to feel your hands on my skin.” She tilts her head back when I bend over her and nuzzle her throat. “You breathe on me and I feel like I could go up in flames.”