All the Right Places (RILEY O'BRIEN & CO #1) (29 page)

Quinn impatiently waited for Amelia to respond to his job offer to run the women’s division. If she accepted it, maybe she would accept another offer . . . one that involved a ring and his last name.

He couldn’t believe he’d been lucky enough to find a woman who understood how important Riley O’Brien & Co. was to him. It would be much more difficult to lead the company if his wife wasn’t supportive.

She stared at him for several moments before a resigned expression came over her face. “I didn’t redesign the jeans because I care about Riley O’Brien & Co.,” she stated flatly. “And I didn’t do it because I care about you, either.”

He frowned. “Then why did you do it?”

“Because Teagan hired me to redesign Rileys for women and to expand the product line.”

“I don’t understand.”

She stared into his face, her eyes dark and solemn. “Yes, you do.”

He dropped his hands from her waist. Her face was nearly colorless in the overhead lighting, the remnants of her makeup looking like heavy brushstrokes.

“No,” he countered, “I’m not sure I do understand. Are
you saying that you and Teagan have been working behind my back?”

She nodded. “Teagan thought you needed to see the potential for the women’s division so she hired me to give it a makeover. She didn’t want you to know what we were doing because she thought you would put a stop to it. She wanted to keep it a secret until I was finished with the new designs, and then she wanted to present them to you as a done deal.”

For years, Teagan had talked about giving the women’s division a makeover. His dad had always put her off, not ignoring her, exactly, but not listening to her, either.

When Quinn had stepped in as the interim president and CEO, she’d become even more insistent. He’d tried to explain that what she had in mind needed a lot of planning and money. He had done his best to make her understand how risky her idea was, but she’d been undeterred.

He backed away from her. “A done deal? She can’t force me to accept your designs. I’m the one who makes the final decisions.”

When she didn’t reply, he thought about what he’d said. He
wasn’t
the one who made the final decisions, not yet. His dad hadn’t officially stepped down, and even when Quinn took control of the company, he’d still have to answer to investors and financiers.

“What were her plans if I didn’t like your new designs?” She looked away, but he placed his fingers under her chin and forced her eyes back to him. “Tell me.”

“She planned to go to the board.”

He digested her answer. “And you were okay with that? You didn’t care that I could lose my job, my birthright . . . everything I care about?”

She didn’t reply, and an ugly wave of rage and despair washed over him. “I guess it didn’t matter since you would get paid regardless of what happened,” he said bitterly.

She swallowed. “No, that’s not the deal.”

“Then what is the deal?” he asked harshly.

She stared up at him, and he swore he could hear their hearts beating in the silence of the room.

“Teagan agreed to invest in my chain of boutiques . . . to provide the start-up financing.”

“How much?”

“Thirty-five million.”

He couldn’t believe Teagan would be so reckless with her inheritance.
Would she?

“Thirty-five million,” he repeated. “For a few sketches that might be shoved in a drawer and forgotten?” He shook his head in disbelief. “That’s insane. There has to be something more.”

“The financing is contingent on whether you put my designs into production. If you don’t, I get nothing.”

He tried to wrap his mind around what Amelia had said. She wouldn’t get the money for her boutiques unless he signed off on her designs. She needed his approval—his goddamn
blessing
—before Teagan would open her checkbook.

The truth hit him squarely in the chest. “
Jesus.
I’m such an idiot. I actually thought everything was falling into place . . . that everything was going to work out.” He laughed mirthlessly. “You were just playing me. You were fucking me to get the money for your boutiques.”

•   •   •

Quinn’s jaw was clenched, and Amelia could tell he was struggling to control his anger. He took several deep breaths, his bare chest moving like bellows.

“I wasn’t playing you.”

His eyes narrowed into slits, and she knew her denial had made him even angrier. A chill chased over her, reminding her that she wore only a bustier, thong, and high heels. She shivered, not just from the cold but also because her near nakedness made her feel even more vulnerable.

She hastily scanned the room, desperate to find her robe. She shivered again, the movement drawing Quinn’s gaze to her chest. His eyes zeroed in on her nipples. They were pebbled from the cold and, if she were honest, his nearness. He was close enough she could feel the heat from his muscular chest.

He made a sound deep in his throat, one of disgust rather than lust or pleasure. “Would you put on some fucking clothes?”

His harsh tone made her flinch. She lunged toward her dresser, pulling open the bottom drawer and jerking out the
first piece of clothing she touched, a faded Dallas Cowboys T-shirt she sometimes used as a nightgown.

As she dragged it over her head, her hair came loose from its pins. Ignoring the tangled strands, she pulled down the T-shirt to cover her body, feeling ridiculous because she still wore her heels.

Quinn’s gaze swept over her wild hair before he focused on her face. “When did you and Teagan cook up your little plan? Before or after we started sleeping together?”

She met his eyes, and the icy anger in them made it hard for her to pull in a deep breath. “Before,” she admitted. “I agreed to Teagan’s deal before I even met you. I didn’t expect this . . . this attraction between us.”

“You didn’t expect it, but you definitely took advantage of it,” he snarled.

“Took advantage of it?” she repeated incredulously, her voice shrill. “I tried to keep things professional!”

“Were you trying to keep things professional when you sucked my dick in the penthouse? Or when you fucked me in the front seat of my Audi? Or when you sat on the kitchen counter with my face between your legs?”

She sucked in an agonized breath. “Don’t. Please don’t do that. Please don’t turn something wonderful into something ugly.”

He grimaced. “I need to leave or I’m going to say things I will regret later.”

She met him in the middle of the room and placed her palms on his chest. His pectoral muscles jumped under her fingers.

“Don’t go. We need to talk about this.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he replied, shoving her hands away. “I just want to forget. I want to forget that you were lying every time you were with me.”

His voice was a pained whisper, and Amelia’s chest ached with sorrow that she had hurt him so badly.

“I wasn’t lying,” she countered. “I didn’t have sex with you to get the financing for my boutiques.”

Reaching for the hem of the T-shirt she’d just put on, she pulled it over her head. His eyes widened as she threw it on the bed.

“I had sex with you because I wanted to be with you,” she added.

She trailed her hands down her bustier, and his eyes followed them intently. She began to undo the hooks, starting with the one at the very bottom. His eyes grew darker as the hooks opened, baring her stomach first and then the valley between her breasts.

The bustier fell open, and he sucked in a breath as it slid to the floor. She reached for the waistband of the thong resting low on her pelvis and hooked her fingers in it. His hand shot out and gripped her wrist before she could pull it down.

“What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely.

“Showing you the truth.”

As she stepped closer, her breasts brushed against his chest, the fine dark hair on it tickling her nipples. The front of his pants was tented with his erection, and she danced her fingers across the hard length.

Closing his eyes, he released his grip on her wrist. She immediately pushed her thong over her legs and somehow managed to step out of it without falling. He was breathing heavily now, his eyes still closed. She unbuttoned his pants and released his zipper just enough to delve inside his boxer briefs.

As she wrapped her hand around his penis, he groaned and dropped his head back. She rubbed her thumb against the plump head where fluid had seeped out, and then suddenly he moved, pulling her hand from his underwear.

She met his gaze for one burning moment before he pushed her backward and down onto the bed. He fell on top of her in a light pounce, forcing her legs open and settling between them.

In one frantic movement, he shoved his pants and underwear down just enough to free his thick penis before pinning her to the bed with his weight. He threaded his fingers through her hair and brought her face close to his.

“This isn’t going to get you what you want,” he warned, the expression on his face one she didn’t recognize.

She ran her hands up his sides. “You don’t know what I want,” she replied, clenching her fingers into his back.

He dropped his forehead against hers, and she raised her
legs, hooking her feet over his back. She purposefully dug her sharp heels into his butt cheeks, and he hissed when his erection brushed against her folds.

“
Fuck
,” he said before thrusting roughly into her.

She held him tightly, allowing him to use her. Hoping he would spill his anger and disillusionment in her body. Praying he would forgive her.

After only a few deep strokes, he stiffened and groaned, his penis pulsing inside her. Turning his face away, he released a shuddering breath. Seconds later, he pulled out. He reared back on his heels and pulled up his underwear and pants, fastening them quickly.

He moved to the side of the bed and sat there, his head drooped forward and his broad shoulders slumped. She touched his back where her fingernails had made deep crescents in his skin, and he flinched before vaulting to his feet.

As he began to gather his clothes from the floor, Amelia grabbed her Cowboys T-shirt and quickly pulled it on. She knelt motionless on the bed, her throat tight with the knowledge that she had just made things so much worse.

“I’m sorry.”

She was sorry for so many things she didn’t even know where to start. He snatched up his dress shirt, ignoring her apology.

“I know you’re angry with me.”

He barked out a laugh. “I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with myself for fucking you when I know you don’t give a damn about me. If you did, you would have told me about what you and Teagan were doing. But you didn’t tell me, not even after we started sleeping together. You cared more about your boutiques than you did about me.”

She was tempted to defend herself by telling him that she’d wanted to be honest with him, but Teagan had demanded her silence. But she swallowed the words, knowing that information would only fuel his anger.

Plus, when it came right down to it, she had kept the project a secret for her own benefit, first so she could get the financing, and then because she’d wanted to have Quinn for as long as she could.

He shrugged on his dress shirt and clumsily fastened the
buttons. Scanning her bedroom, he found his undershirt and scooped it up from the floor. He shook it at her, the opposite of a surrender flag.

“There’s only one reason you didn’t tell me and that’s because you were taking advantage of my feelings to get what you wanted—the financing for your boutiques.”

“I wanted to tell you the truth, but I was afraid . . .”

He glanced at her alertly. “Afraid of what?”

She looked down, the floral print on the duvet blurring a little from her tears. She’d been afraid of losing the money for her boutiques, of course, but she didn’t even care about that anymore. She’d been afraid of losing him, and right now that seemed inevitable.

But mostly she had been afraid to let herself love him. She had been afraid to give herself to him . . . to give him the power to hurt her.

He waited several seconds, offering her the opportunity to explain. When it became clear that she had nothing to say, he sighed tiredly.

“I’m leaving.” He balled his undershirt in his hands. “Lock the door behind me.”

“Lock the door?”

He frowned. “Yes, lock the door. It’s not safe for you to be here alone in the middle of the night with the door unlocked.”

Her heart cracked open. Even though she had hurt him, and even though he thought she had used him, he still wanted to keep her safe. Only an idiot would let that kind of man walk out of her life. Amelia was a lot of things, but she wasn’t an idiot.

Quinn will take care of my heart. It’s safe with him.

He stalked toward the door.

“Wait!”

He ignored her. When he reached for the doorknob, she jumped off the bed.

“Please don’t go. I love you.”

He froze, and for several seconds, he didn’t move. Finally, he turned to face her. His cheeks were flushed with color, his eyes intensely blue.

“What did you say?”

“I love you,” she repeated.

It was the first time she’d said it to anyone other than Ava Grace, and it came out much easier than she had thought it would. In fact, she felt lighter now that she no longer denied her love for him.

He stared at her, his face unreadable. “Since when?”

Since when?
What kind of question was that? She didn’t know when she had fallen in love with him, not exactly. And why was that fact important?

“I don’t know,” she answered, shrugging uncomfortably.

He cocked his head. “Did you just realize it?”

“No.”

“No?” he repeated. “Then why didn’t you tell me before?”

She blew out a breath. “Ugh! I don’t know! I just didn’t.”

He nodded. “So . . . you love me,” he said, an edge in his voice.

She hesitated. His questions were unexpected, and her stomach started to cramp with anxiety.

“Yes, I love you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you,” he replied flatly.

“I know my timing seems a little suspicious. I’m sure you think this is about my deal with Teagan . . .”