Surrender Your Heart (6 page)

Chapter Six

Carter

I’ve been called
a bitch so often that at some point, I decided to own it, live up to the image.
Mind you, the term came from men mostly, and it became liberating not to have
to put up a front anymore. I like having the reputation of a ruthless
businesswoman. I like being that person if it makes a few of the good old—and
new—boys shake in their boots.

It’s a bit of a
downer hearing the same word from my beautiful captive, Penelope, but I’ll get
over it. Given the context, I can hardly blame her. At the moment, there are
more pressing matters to deal with, all of it before I can even wash my hands.

This happened
sooner than I expected, and it was everything I imagined, but I can’t deal with
remembering how hot she was, coming under my fingertips and then, my mouth. I
have little regrets about breaking the law, if it’s for the greater good of
Penelope, and me.

“What the hell!
I gave you clear instructions!”

I feel a bit
sorry for yelling at Marlene, because I know firsthand how hard it is to resist
those doe eyes, and I’m sure Penelope pulled every trick she knows—that doesn’t
make the outcome any better.

“Everything went
fine,”
Marlene defends giving a razor to a woman
who’s
my more or less unwilling guest. The one I chose, the one who’s
still struggling with that realization…I am sick at imagining the
possibilities.

“Yeah, it did,
this time. You’re lucky. Don’t you ever do that again if you want to keep
working for me.”

How did that
happen? Marlene is one of my most trusted employees, has been with me for almost
two decades. Unfortunately, she doesn’t take any shit from me either.

“Ms. Elliot
might not have fully adjusted yet, but she doesn’t want to kill herself. She
wanted to get ready for a romantic evening.”

“That’s none of
your business!” The words are out of my mouth before their revealing nature
registers with me. Yes, Marlene knows a bit about what’s going on here, but
there’s such a thing as too much information when it comes to employees. None
of this concerned her in the first place. “Next time she asks you for anything
dangerous, you say no. Don’t get swayed, if you’d like to keep your job.
Believe me, I know what I’m doing. Do you understand?”

Marlene, aware
that she overstepped a critical boundary, nods. “I understand, Ms. Forbes. Just
one suggestion, if I may…”

I wait,
impatient. I wasn’t lying when I said I still had work to do. There’s a company
I’m buying, and while I would have liked to postpone the final deal until after
our designated vacation time, it’s not possible. I hear there’s been negotiating
with another buyer behind my back which is clear breach of contract. I’m good
at being bad, in the right situation. They will regret their lame attempt at
going over my head.

“If you don’t
want her to have a razor, why don’t I get her some products?”

“Yes, why not?
Brilliant idea, Marlene. Thank you so much.”

I think this is
a good moment to stalk away and get back to the computer. I’ll deal with
her—and Penelope—tomorrow, though there is something oddly comical in this. I
have thought of everything, her apartment, her work, the people in her
life—everything, except this small detail. Not comical at all to think of what
could have happened. It’s silly, I know. I can’t watch her 24/7. I don’t want
to invade her privacy so much as to have her watched 24/7, and yet…there are
scarves and belts in the closet, and if I had overlooked anything in Penelope’s
past life, only I would be to blame. I shake off the chill that’s coming with
the thought. So far, things are going as well as can be expected, I guess.

* * * *

In the office, I
pour a finger of rum into a tumbler—after washing my hands, finally, welcoming
the burn.

She was so
sweet.

You don’t get
sweet very often in the cutthroat world that I inhabit, and most of the time, I
don’t complain. There are enough women and men in my life who want something
from me, sex, money, a deal, I can pick and choose and then move on. Not bad
for the girl whose parents thought she wasn’t feminine enough. I’m not sure if
they are feeling better these days—I’m not married. Their daughter was a
lesbian after all, just like they’d worried, but on the other hand, it’s hard
to argue with a Fortune 500 company and their home in the
Caribbean
. My brother Jimmy might be a
gifted artist, but he never managed to make that much money with his music
.
I consider him a rebel
for still not having a real job at his age—it’s kind of adorable. A
t
least he makes enough money to keep his ex- and current wife happy, or so the
tabloids say. Janet, my sister had a wedding worthy of a Disney princess, and
she actually married real royalty. A guy with a title, not much of a fortune.
She sends a card at Christmas.

Intimidated,
wary, jealous, I’ve had all of those thrown at me, from my family, and
strangers. I can work with that. It came after the mocking and dismissing,
because I couldn’t care less about prom, because I knew I deserved a place at
the decision-making table even as the only woman in the firm—something I
learned to handle.

Now, there’s something
completely different. Penelope. Sweet, sexy, she’s oblivious to the fact that
she has my world teetering on its axis. I’ve bent the law before when
necessary, never before broken it this blatantly. I’m fortunate enough to have
friends and acquaintances in high places who owe me.

I set the glass
aside and open my emails.

To be frank, I
have little interest in this electronics chain, but talking to partners and
attorneys I’ve been advised that it could be a worthy addition to Forbes Inc. I
don’t need their okay—that’s mostly window dressing. What I’ll enjoy most is
kicking out Marcus Wellington and his posse. Selling his business is a done
deal, unavoidable, but I know he’d much rather have his stores go to the other
buyer who’s an old friend of his father’s, old money, the same old bullshit.
Sexual assault charges brought up against
Wellington
were dropped last year, not so much because of his innocence, but
because he and his lawyer successfully intimidated the women who had filed the charges.
Yes, more than one. Threatened with an uncertain future for themselves and
their families, one by one recanted.

I have looked
into the cases. I know exactly which employees to keep, and which ones told the
women to shut up. I can’t fire each of them personally, but the thought at
least is uplifting. It’s too bad I’ll have to leave Penelope alone another time
for this, but if she’s not too pissed at me in the morning, I’ll let her go to
the pool by herself. I’ll have arrangements to make for the business deal, but
maybe afterwards, I can win her over with dinner under the stars.

If she still
wants to touch me, tomorrow I might let her.

* * * *

At the breakfast
table, Penelope wears a flowered sundress with a white cardigan, and a defiant
expression. I’ve given her, and myself, a year. That’s a reasonable time for
making her understand this is not a usual courtship. I’ll never harm her, never
intended to, but I can’t take any chances. Business aside, I couldn’t possibly
stay with her after the first time, a first time that came sooner than each of
us expected.

“Good morning.
Did you sleep well?”

She glares at
me. “What do you think?”

Even pouting,
she’s adorable, so I’ll let this go. She isn’t ready to do so yet.

“You didn’t need
to yell at Marlene about the freaking razor.”

So she figured
it out.

“I pay the
people who work for me, well. I expect them to be able to follow simple rules.”
This is still getting me more emotional than I care to admit.

“You’re going to
fire her?” Penelope asks, anxious.

“No.
Unfortunately, I can’t cook like this.”

“Oh.” She drinks
her coffee, silent for a moment. I know. The attraction is there, I’ve seen it
back in the café when one look made her all flustered and blushing…but even
after last night, she still has trouble wrapping her mind around all this. At
least, she’s wearing her clothes, didn’t attempt to hold on to her old ones.
Baby steps.

“You always
expect the worst of people, don’t you? Is that from experience? What did you
think I’d do with that razor other than making myself presentable?”

Those are many
loaded questions for an early morning. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of everything
you needed, but the next time, just ask. It’s not that Marlene can’t give you
things or make decisions when I’m not here. She should have known better. If
you want, I can bring in a cosmetician for you.”

She frowns,
obviously not happy with that solution, or the subject, for that matter.

“Unless you’d
like me to have a Brazilian, I think I’m okay. Not that I plan to. Can we not
talk about this?”

I can’t help the
smile, knowing that my diversion worked. “No problem. So…how
are
you
feeling?”

I study her,
wide brown eyes, her full lips, the soft blush to her cheeks. It’s such a
cliché, but I wanted her right away. I wasn’t kidding when I told her that last
night. I could sense there was something behind her obvious beauty, something
untainted, uncompromised, a quality clearly lacking from my own life.

Maybe we can
have a little time to ourselves before I have to return to my desk.

“Okay, I guess.”

Now that’s
sobering. I raise my eyebrows at her, making her blush even more when she
realizes what we’re talking about.

“What do you
want me to say? I guess you didn’t oversell yourself. It was good…until it
ended kind of abruptly.”

“Yeah, I’m
sorry.” I finally butter my toast. I’m not the type of person who runs on black
coffee and a piece of fruit for half of the day. “I had to work…and I’m really
sorry. I told you this was a vacation, but I’ll need a few hours for calls and
emails today, all the boring stuff.”

“Are you going
to tell me more about it eventually?”

She caught me
there, “boring stuff” was too much of a quick evasion. Maybe telling her about
the
Wellington
deal would
actually improve Penelope’s opinion of me, but I don’t want to manipulate her
that way.

I don’t have to.
I brought her thousands of miles away from her home, everything she knows, to
be with me. I don’t need to be petty.

“If you really
want to know, sure.” There’s something else on her mind, I can tell. “You can
ask, I told you.”

“I remember.”
She looks away, then reconsiders and holds my gaze. “I’ve been wondering…You
made that decision, and then you created a file for me, a to-do list, things
you needed done in order to make this happen.”

I nod. None of
this will come as a surprise or shock at this point. I’m efficient. I can’t
afford any mistakes in my day to day life, or the sharks would have eaten me
long ago.

“Sometime during
that week…” She shakes her head. “A week! I still can’t believe it.”

It wasn’t
exactly a week, but I don’t think that’s important for her to know right now.

“Obviously, you
found out I was single, and last night you found out I’ve been for a while. I
can live with that, but…what would you have done if I weren’t? Would you have
gone along with the plan?”

To be honest,
the idea never crossed my mind. I had my information. I felt something click
between us, fall into place, in that first seemingly innocent interaction.
Still, the answer might be something she won’t like, though I suspect Penelope
already knows.

“There’s no need
to wonder about that. I didn’t steal you from anyone.”

“…but you would
have.” She halts, corrects herself. “I mean it’s not like anyone owns me. You
know what I mean.”

“I do. I still
believe I could have changed your mind eventually.”

“Really? Then
you have to do better than this.”

It’s tricky,
those moments after being together. No matter how much I wanted it, or she did,
it makes me vulnerable too. I think it’s time to remind her of some facts.

“I think I did
okay, but I don’t shy away from a challenge. I need to get back to work now.
I’d like you to stay in the house today. We’ll see about tomorrow. Don’t bang
on doors and stay away from sharp objects,” I say, brushing my fingers over her
knuckles. She didn’t break the skin, but there’s still some redness,
sensitivity, I can tell by the way she flinches.

I’m not fooled
by the pout—she looks worried. I don’t want to scare her, on the contrary, but
I can’t have her call me names and question the foundation of our relationship
within less than twenty-four hours.

“I didn’t mean
it that way.”

I turn back and meet
her halfway, for a kiss that almost changes my mind and steals her breath.

“I know. I’ll
still do better. You’ll see—or maybe you won’t.”