Destination Connelly (4 page)

When I heard Connelly had taken over as the CEO of Wynn Consulting a couple of years ago, I knew it was only a matter of time before we ran into each other. Recruiting is a small world, executive recruiting even smaller. For the last two years I’ve tried to keep my head down and my private life even more private, but my luck has run dry. Not that the well was deep to begin with. Lady luck seems to fuck me at every opportunity she’s given for some unknown reason.

The scrape of chairs and seated forms rising signal the meeting has adjourned. Thank God…I can make my escape. But of course, Mr. I’m-an-all-powerful-executive-and-irresistible-sex-god won’t make it that easy. Just as I reach the door, I hear a dark voice call, “Ms. Cantres, a moment alone, please.”

I stop in my tracks and sigh deeply, dropping my head as everyone else files out past me. Brad, our chief operations officer, lightly clamps my shoulder as he passes. I flash him a tight smile I know doesn’t reach my eyes.

“You okay?” Carl asks. He stops beside me, concern pinching his thick graying brows.

“Yes, fine,” I whisper.

Throwing a glance over his shoulder at Connelly, he gives me a quick smile and a squeeze of my hand before closing the door when he exits, leaving me alone with this man for the first time in more than ten years. I’m both terrified and thrilled.

With my back to Connelly, I try to regain my cool, to fortify my resolve against what I know will be a merciless assault.

My wishes rush back, except this time, I wish I could stop the memories pelting me like heavy rain soaking into my thirsty pores. They’d been hidden in the shadows of my mind, fading, but crashed front and center with a reverberating, ear-piercing boom when I laid eyes on him an hour ago. The ricochet is now whisper soft, but I’ll hear it until my dying breath.

Then I feel him behind me. I’m unable to stop my eyes from falling shut as the warmth of his solid, masculine perfection cloaks my entire body. I’m
barely
able to suppress a moan when hot breath tickles my ear, making me shiver with desire. The low voice that follows is seduction. Sin. Pure temptation.

It’s trouble.

And it will take me down.

“It’s good to see you, Nora.”

C
onn

J
esus fucking Christ
. When Nora walked into the conference room, I was stupefied. Struck dumber than an ox.

She is absolutely breathtaking. Has grown from a beautiful teenager into a drop-dead gorgeous goddess of sex and lust. Her one-of-a-kind red hair now has golden highlights woven throughout. When we were in high school, she kept it shoulder length. Now it runs down her back in soft, flowing waves. I can’t help imagining what it would feel like underneath my palms as I used it as leverage when driving into her from behind, making her sob my name as she unravels all around my cock.

Her pale skin contrasts harshly against her piercing green eyes, which sparkle like emeralds framed by thick, inky lashes so long they almost reach her dainty eyebrows. She’s curvy in all the right places, but I would venture to guess she doesn’t like them, as most women with curves don’t.

I don’t understand that. A woman is supposed to look different from a man. She should have flared hips, thighs that touch at the juncture of her womanhood, and an ass you can hang on to when you’re pulling her closer to sink your cock deeper into her snugness. I like women of all shapes and sizes and am an equal opportunity kinda guy, but my preference is what’s hidden underneath Nora’s professional, but hot-as-sin attire.

When she sat next to me, I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or pissed that Carl sat across from me, forcing her to take the one remaining chair. Her inebriating scent, a heady combination of vanilla and honeysuckle and Nora, has filled my lungs with every breath. I had to stop myself several times from closing my eyes from the celestial pleasure as my blood carried it through my veins, nourishing parts of me I didn’t know were emaciated.

But I had also looked forward to visually soaking in everything old and new about Nora during the meeting, even though I could tell within two seconds of walking through the door that she would do everything she could to avoid me, just as she has all this time.

Wasn’t wrong about that. Her body language is like a bullhorn shouting, “back the fuck off or you may end up tasting your balls in a way you never thought possible.” Too bad for Nora I’m kind of hard of hearing when it comes to things I don’t want to accept. She should know that better than anyone.

I didn’t know how I would feel seeing her again after so long, but
fuck
…it is not what I wanted.

I wanted to hate her.

I wanted to crush her.

I wanted to tie her to me like she did me to her so long ago, then cut her loose so her broken pieces would scatter helplessly to the wind like mine did. I don’t
want
to want her. I don’t
want
to imagine keeping her forever as if she’s the ultimate prize I’ve been striving for my entire life. But I fucking do. And she is. And with just one glimpse of her, I already know I’m not strong enough to walk away.

My heart is chained to hers. If I’m honest with myself, it always has been.

I realize now that I’ve craved this woman on a conscious and subconscious level for eleven long, lonely years. I haven’t wanted to, but I have nonetheless. And I know this craving I have for her is so unstoppable, uncontainable, and uncontrollable I just need to take take take. I need to ravage, pillage, and tear her apart from the inside out so I can put her back together again, fitting her jagged pieces perfectly to mine. I need to make her crave me on the same biological level as I do her.

My brother Luke’s words from many months ago come rushing back with crystal-clear clarity. At the time, I thought my younger brother was full of shit, thinking with his dick because he’d found his one and only. But now, I understand what he meant.

“Finding that elusive woman who will plug holes you didn’t know you had in ways you can’t possibly comprehend is fucking priceless. And I guarantee when you find her, you’d give up every last thing you own to make her yours.”

Prophetic words spoken right there.

I want Nora. Correction…
need
. Crave. I hunger and thirst for her. And she will be mine, no matter the price. I would do any-fucking-thing to have her. I would sell my soul to the very devil himself right here, right now if it guaranteed she’d agree to be mine, and I wouldn’t bat a single eyelash. Spending eternity in the fiery pits of hell and brimstone is a small price to pay if I could spend the next sixty years with her by my side.

This time, I’m not going to walk away so easy.

I made that mistake before. I will not do it again.

“Take a seat,” I say quietly. I think we’ve been standing here for a solid five minutes, neither of us moving a muscle. The only sounds in the room are the muffled ones of chatter on the other side of the closed door and our slightly labored breathing. Regardless of what she wants me to believe, she is as affected by me as I am by her. Yet she’ll go to her death fighting it for some damn reason. It makes me wonder what else she’s kept from me.

When I step back, giving her room to move, she avoids eye contact and walks to the opposite side of the table but doesn’t sit. Instead, she grabs ahold of the back of the rolling office chair, her grip so hard her knuckles turn white. I take a seat in my original chair, crossing my legs to hide my straining erection. For good measure, I place my folded hands on my lap after gesturing to the seat once more.

“No, thank you. I’ll stand.”

I smirk. I swear Nora’s heels have ten-inch spikes embedded in them. When she unleashes them, she digs them in so damn far it’s near impossible to get her to budge. With great effort, I managed once before. Now, it will be no different, except I’m older, savvier, and a helluva lot more experienced.

Patience trumps pigheadedness.

Every.

Single.

Time.

And I’ve got a motherfucking truckload of it.

“What’s the
real
reason you don’t want to move to Chicago?”

Regardless of what she tried to make me think earlier, her last name is still Cantres and I see no diamond circling her wedding finger. That makes her fair game in my book.

“What are you doing, Connelly?”

“Answering a question with a question. How very Nora-like.”

“You don’t know anything about me anymore.”

Her eyes burn, reminding me of hot coals. God, I have fucking missed her and how she used to challenge me at every turn. No woman has ever made me work more for her affections than Nora did. It was one of the things that made me fall hard and fast for her. She didn’t roll over to my demands. She didn’t fawn all over me like the other girls in my school. I actually had to
work
to be friends with her. She did her level best to stay away from me, but I wore her down once.

And I’ll do it again.

“I know you better than you know yourself. Better than anyone, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” Her voice is hard and clipped.

“I seem to remember you used to love it,” I deadpan.

I let the corner of my mouth turn up as I study her. Do I want to know why she dumped me? “Claimed” there was someone else just a few weeks after she left Detroit? Do I want to know why she refused my phone calls? Never returned an e-mail or letter?

She told me she was mine.

She told me she was born for me.

She told me she would marry me someday.

Then she threw me away like week-old rotting trash smelling up the garage.

So,
fuck yes
, I want to know. I want to know it all.

Then you’ll have some confessions of your own
, I remind myself.

My stomach flips at that thought, knowing there are things I need to tell her I don’t know how to say. We have a lot to talk about, probably a lot to confess, but we’ll get there in due time. At the moment, I need to focus on convincing her to accept the job at Wynn so I can move her near me and begin phase two of my plan.

We have a silent stare-off until she breaks eye contact, looking down at the table. Sighing heavily, her gaze sweeps back up. When she speaks, her voice is soft, almost defeated. I feel a twinge of remorse, but not enough to make me stop my pursuit of her. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not sure I understand the question.”

Her back straightens and it looks as if I’ve brought out the rattler in her. “Well, let me see if I can paint this crystal clear for you,
Mr
. Colloway,” she bites with venom.
Yep, her tail’s shaking
.
Hard
. “Why are you buying my uncle’s company? Why are you offering me a job that will pay me twice what I’m making today when you surely have enough talented recruiters in your own firm? Why are
you
here today, when you could have sent Camille by herself to work out the details of employment contracts? And why are you here
at all
before the acquisition is even closed? It’s not a done deal yet.”

I ignore her questions, asking one of my own.

“He’s not really your uncle. Why did you never tell me that?”

“Jesus!” she yells, her hands flailing before falling to her sides. “That’s beside the point.” Her forehead creases. “And how do you know that anyway?”

Nora and I officially dated for all of two months before she moved. I’d met her parents, of course, but I’d only met her “Uncle Carl” for a brief few seconds at her high school graduation party. I never knew him by anything else other than her uncle or bothered to pay attention to his last name, if she even told me. Not many teenagers are interested in their own extended families, let alone that of their girlfriend.

So when I met Carl Steele for the first time, he looked familiar but I couldn’t place him. I thought nothing more of it until I had dinner with a business colleague and long-time friend Samuel Makey when I was in Louisville for a leadership conference in late April. Sam’s the VP of human resources at Regency Commerce, a medium-sized real estate company we’ve been trying to land for the last year. He’s also a friend of Carl’s.

And guess who I’ve been trying to steal them from?

In an innocent conversation over prime rib and single-malt Scotch almost four months ago now, Sam unknowingly turned over every single card I needed to win this poker match. I have a true royal flush, and for you nonpoker players, nothing beats that, baby.

“I’m thorough in my homework, Nora.
Very
thorough.”

Her face blanches. Tendrils of secrets float in her jeweled eyes. I want to latch on to each one, pulling them from the abyss. I need to learn each and every one she’s hiding from me because it couldn’t be clearer there are many.

“Is this a game to you?” she says bitterly, her forehead wrinkling in anger.

I narrowly avoid laughing, but I can’t hide my smile. I’m relaxed and calm and I can tell my casual demeanor just fuels her raging fire. “I don’t play games, Nora.” I do, but
this
isn’t a fucking game. Not by a long shot.

“Don’t pretend for a minute that’s not what you’re doing, Connelly. You’re taking your bruised high school ego out on me by using your power and money to control the situation without any regard for the consequences.”

Remorse flashes in her eyes before it’s gone, replaced again by her fiery ire. I loved that about Nora back in the day. She would get worked up at the drop of a hat and I was always cool, calm, and collected.

At least that’s how I appeared on the
outside
. Inside, it’s a different story. I just don’t show it. I want to control everything and I’ve become very,
very
adept at getting what I want while leading people to believe the outcome is irrelevant to me. I lure them in with my indifference, then go in for the easy kill. But right now, I’m a coiled snake, ready to strike, because her comment just pissed me. The fuck. Off.

She
is the one who dumped
me
.

“I think
your
ego is a little self-inflated, doll. This is a business decision, plain and simple.” It’s not, but there’s no way in hell I’m tipping my hand just yet.

Her teeth clamp together. “Arrogant and cocky as ever, I see?”

“Some of my best strengths,” I retort snidely. The anger and bitterness that beg to be unleashed smolder just beneath the surface. I work to contain them. Blowing up right now would be akin to throwing water on a grease fire, and I need to control this thing arching between us at a slow simmer until I’m ready to turn it up to a raging boil.

“Traits you probably hate in your kids, I bet.”

She’s fishing. I smirk but remain stoic and silent. She looks away at being caught.

“I’m not taking the offer.”

“You will,” I state plainly. Yes, I’m
that
confident. Extending employment positions for the five executives we met with earlier was Carl Steele’s requirement in this acquisition. In case you haven’t figured it out yet,
Nora
is mine. And I won’t lose her—or this deal.

“You’re un-fucking-believable.”

“Nora, Nora,” I say, tsking. “That’s not very professional.”

“Funny, I thought this was entirely personal.”

It is.
“Not
entirely
.”

Standing there with her mouth agape for a few moments, I can tell she’s trying to decide what to do next. Back in the day, when we’d get into an argument, she’d stomp out of the room. I wonder if that’s how she still reacts when she’s so mad she can’t speak.

I watch with pure enjoyment as she heads for the door. Same tenacity, same short fuse, same Nora, only more lovely and definitely all woman now. My words halt her and I suppress another smile. “I expect your signed employment agreement on my desk within twenty-four hours.”

Shaking her head, she pivots slowly back around. Her emeralds blaze like the pits of hell. Hot and furious. I try to discreetly adjust my hard-on. I cannot believe how much her fierce spirit still turns me on. “That will
never
happen.”

I stand and walk to her until we’re a half foot apart. At six two, I’m not that much taller than Nora’s five-foot-seven frame right now, what with her three- or four-inch heels bringing her nicely in line with my mouth. A mouth I want to swoop down, poach, and possess.