Double-Cross My Heart (34 page)

Alex’s mouth curled into bitter smile. How incredibly stupid he was. Stupid, screwed over and bleeding from the hole she’d blown in him.

Stepping into the elevator, he grasped at his anger, needing the small sense of stability it gave him. God knew, he didn’t have much else.

***

Eden had never actually been inside the building that housed Alex’s offices. Getting into the elevator, she wondered what could have prompted the change in their plans. On the phone, he’d only said that something had “come up”, asking her to meet him at his office instead of the restaurant.

She shouldn’t even be here—should have found an excuse to be unavailable. There were plenty of reasons for her not to see him—namely, the imminent revelation of her master plan. The board meeting loomed only two weeks off. But still she dated him and slept with him and it was getting more and more difficult to wrench her thoughts away from the idea of him in her life.

He’d said he loved her.
He’d deceived her about so many things, it shouldn’t have mattered what he said anymore. No words coming out of his mouth should shake her to her core.

She shouldn’t be here. It was too risky.

Of course, she argued with herself, she had to maintain her cover a little while longer. There was the Thanksgiving holiday, then the few days before the board meeting. She had to keep him happy until then, didn’t she?

It was a wretched self-deceit, Eden knew, but it was all she had.

The elevator halted and the doors opened revealing an expensively decorated lobby. At seven-thirty in the evening, the place seemed deserted. No one sat behind the warm mahogany reception desk.

Crossing the marbled entrance, she walked onto the thickly cushioned carpet island that was the reception area. Glancing around, she looked for an indication of where Alex’s office might be. A large central hall with the same beautiful marble floor extended back into a range of offices, the end of which was in darkness.

A low light glowed in a room to the left.

“Alex?” Eden called out, uncomfortable as an interloper in the silent offices.

“Yes?” His deeper voice called. “In here.”

Her footsteps loud on the floor, she went to his office. As she stepped into the open doorway, she spotted him behind a large desk, a gigantic slab of stone that echoed the flooring. A quick glance into the room revealed the lair of a very powerful man.

His office was spacious and beautiful with a conference desk near an expanse of windows that must look out the front of the building. A huge rug warmed the center of the room. There were also several clusters of deep armchairs, upholstered in coordinating jewel colors.

It all screamed money. Lots of money.

“Hello,” Alex said in a low, lazy tone. “Come in, come in.”

“Hello,” she responded, stepping forward.

It was a combination of things, Eden knew, that left her feeling fluttery inside and a shade breathless as she walked toward him. She’d still never gotten over the physical response of guilt, the more rapid beating of her heart, the shimmer of uneasiness along her spine.

She’d been with him countless times—in so many ways, but she’d never been here, the den of the enemy. That was reason enough for the raise in her pulse. Then, of course, she hadn’t yet gotten over the physical effect he had on her. Her awareness of him hadn’t diminished in the least. Sleeping with him, she knew, wasn’t really a good antidote for that reaction.

He got up from his chair and came to her, drawing her into his arms for a long, thorough kiss that did nothing to settle any bodily function.

“You are,” Alex said, when he finally ended their kiss, “the most amazing lover. I never get enough. We went at each other like hungry little bunnies just a few hours ago and, with one kiss, you’ve got me good to give it another go.”

The blatant sexual interest in his words and face took her by surprise. Never could anyone question his male potency, but before he’d always combined that lusty side of himself with a roguish charm. It stood naked and almost cold on his face now.

“Thank you,” she said, aware of the breathy sound in her voice even as she tried to puzzle his mood.

“I don’t suppose,” he said, snagging her hand easily in his as he turned to walk around the huge desk, drawing her with him. “I don’t suppose you’d like to christen my desk chair?”

He sat down. With a lazy insolence, he hooked his hand around her, palm flat against the small of her back, and pulled her toward him.

Her body instantaneously responding to him, she didn’t resist. But even as his hand dropped lower to cup her bottom, she frowned down at him.

Something was wrong. She knew it, could hear a faint current of ice in his voice. Just a sliver of something like cold steel.

Her brain registering input on multiple levels, she said nothing as he reached up to fondle her breast. A chaos of emotion burgeoning in her, she looked down at him—hunger and anger and love all twisted together with a growing fear.

It was just her guilt, she thought dismissively. Unfounded, but apparently unshakeable.

“Hey,” she said, hardly aware of the tender concern in her own voice, “did something come up at work today? When I got your message about our changed plans, I thought maybe one of your deals had developed a hiccup or something. You’re here in the office alone? I thought I’d fine a bunch of your minions running around in a frenzy trying to cope with whatever is going on.”

“No,” he said, his hand dropping from her breast. “I’m here alone. No minions tonight. But I had a late phone call I needed to take.”

With a relief—not shared by her body’s erotic receptors—she saw him turn his attention away from her toward the desk. Still seated in his chair, he took his hand off her butt and shuffled through several stacks on his desk, straightening things.

“So everything is okay? No emergency?”

“No. I don’t have any other projects at max level, just the Michele deal, at this point.”

Eden’s throat muscles tightened as she asked, “And everything’s on target there?”

“I guess so. You tell me.” His words were casual.

But she couldn’t dismiss a growing sense of anxiety. Trying to ignore the signals bombarding her, she took a step back, running a hand over the corner of his desktop.

Normally, she had no problem with being too-sensitive to others around her. Alex, however, seemed to have activated hither-to-unknown sensors in her brain. She couldn’t help but be aware of emotional shifts in him. Still, she didn’t have a clue what was going on with him now.

Perching on the arm of a deep emerald chair near the desk, she said, “From my end, there’s no change at the company.”

He leaned his head back lazily against the back of the tall leather chair, very much a powerful executive in his element.

“So…let’s see…we’re all set for the board meeting next week? No new information? No surprises?”

Eden shook her head, the action easy, but requiring her to put a mental lid on a surge of nervousness. She hated this. In many ways, he was such a decent guy. He’d been much more than that to her…. Her betrayer, but also her lover.

“You gave me the final report on the anti-aging cream this morning,” he said. “That is the final, final report? Right? Bergere doesn’t have any other data he’s still assessing?”

A sliver of fear danced its way down her spine. His pointed question had her drawing a quick breath to say, “No.”

She knew the word was too bald, but it had to be kept simple, for her own shaky sanity.

He looked at her for a long moment, his face unreadable.

“Good,” Alex said finally. “And the second article in
Wall Street Weekly
? You’ve talked to the reporter? Given her a few more facts to show the company is in trouble?”

“On the phone, once,” she said, unable to repress a small frown. She’d never been able to discover just how well he knew that reporter. The last thing she needed was him finding out that she had no intention of leaking further information.

God, she hated this. When this was all over, she planned to take a vacation. Fly away to some hot beach where she could bake the lying and cheating out of her body and soul. Somewhere she could shake it all off.

Knowing she had to make him think she was doing everything they’d planned, she went on, “I’m going to meet with the writer next week for a more in-depth conversation.”

“Okay.”

Looking at him closely, she couldn’t repress the sense that something was wrong. Of course, she’d never seen Alex work the close of one of his deals. Maybe he got more curt and business-like when the actual moment of truth finally arrived. She had no way of knowing.

“And Wendi and Michele? Everything okay there? No one’s asking you questions or suspecting that you’re up to no good?”

The words were light and his lips curved into a smile, but Eden’s frown grew. She had a growing cold feeling creeping over her. Why all these questions?

“No, no one’s suspicious.” She said after a moment. The sick feeling in her gut didn’t seem to matter. For weeks and months now, she’d felt like hell, convinced on a basic level that she had to sell her soul for this job, if that was required. But sitting here with him, answering his questions with more lies—it left an awful taste on her tongue. Even though he’d lied to her first. Betrayed her and used her.

Eden grappled with the sense of wrongness—inside and outside of her. He seemed wrong, not himself somehow, and she’d been wrong forever, it seemed. Lying and cheating her way into a job that should have been readily bestowed on her.

It was too late now, though, to be questioning any of this. For the past few weeks, she’d refused to allow herself to even think about what she was doing. She just kept crunching into her Payday bars as though the very pulverizing of the peanuts would drown out the guilty chatter in her head.

Alex smiled, the expression holding more than a glitter of maliciousness. “Didn’t you say something about the old woman going to the doctor? Is her health okay? She going to drop dead on us in the middle of the board meeting?”

His flippancy jarred her into a sharp answer. “I certainly hope not.”

“No, that would be too easy.” Alex angled his chair more toward her. “And Dave Sanders hasn’t indicated to you any change in his position? Any snag? He’s still the same sleazy weasel we know and are relying on, if not, loving?”

“Dave hasn’t had any communication with me,” she said, getting up from her chair. She walked around behind the chair, bracing her hands against the richly upholstered back. Facing him, she asked “Why all these questions? Is something wrong?”

Instead of answering, Alex got up from his chair. Going over to a small wet bar tucked in a corner of the room, he retrieved a short fat glass, dropping in a couple of ice cubes from a tiny freezer. After splashing some scotch into the glass, he lifted it to his mouth and took a swallow.

Watching him, she felt herself begin to tremble, as sick at heart as the worst case of flu. Her body ached with the tension.

Turning around to face her, the glass still in his hand, Alex finally said, “Can you tell me nothing is wrong?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She stood rooted to the spot behind the emerald chair, knowing with an unshakeable certainty that she didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to face his anger, to hear the slow, mocking note in his voice.

How could she answer his question when, in fact, everything was wrong? The only thing that had seemed right to her was that she’d never wanted to be in this mess, never asked for the hell of the past three months…and that she’d never felt so loved by a man in her life.

Yet, he’d betrayed her even more thoroughly than pitiful, aging Michele.

A streak of anger flashed through Eden’s head. In response to his manipulative maneuvering, she’d been prompted into actions so unlike herself. She almost didn’t recognize the woman she’d become…and he had been the catalyst.

With an incredible, almost insulting, change of subject, Alex said, “So, what are your plans after we start dismantling the company? Have you picked out your next position? Your next work ‘home’? The next company to enjoy your ‘loyalty’?”

With her anxiety rapidly turning to serious annoyance, Eden said, “Why don’t you just say what you’re so pissed about? It’s very clear that you’re angry and I’m not good at guessing games. Why don’t you just give it to me straight?”

With a short, hard laugh, he sat the glass on the bar and turned back to her.

“You want it straight? No games? Just the honest, bare facts, ma’am?” All trace of mockery was gone from his face and in its place stood anger, pure and simple.

“Yes, I would prefer that.” Facing in the open whatever trouble came up had always been best, she’d thought. Until the last year, she’d lived her life by that motto.

“So,” Alex said, a bite in his voice, “you don’t play games? You’re always honest?”

“Tell me why you’re mad,” she demanded, really tired of circling.

“I’m mad,” he said, “because you’ve been playing me for a fool. You’ve been hiding company shit from me, lying to me about your actions. Specifically, you lied today about the anti-aging cream. I know that for a fact because I stumbled on to the real report from Bergere. Compared side-by-side with the phony piece of crap report you gave me with his name on it, his report makes it very clear that you’re nothing like I thought you were. In fact, you’re an accomplished liar!”