Fixed on You (26 page)

This time, his eyes were glued to
his screen, his glasses resting low on his nose while his fingers moved on the keyboard
at a pace that suggested he was thinking as he typed. I crossed behind him and
leaned down to rest my chin in the crook of his neck, wrapping my arms around
him.

At my touch, Hudson lifted a hand
from his computer and patted my arm. “Game over?”

“For me.” I pulled to a standing
position and rubbed my hands along his shoulders. “Wow, H. You’re tense.” He
sighed as I massaged my fingers into the knots of his back. “What’s getting you
stressed out?” I hoped it wasn’t our girlfriend/boyfriend show, though his
tight muscles could have been attributed to the activities of the night before.
The man had performed some moves that had to have required a great deal of
strength.

“This situation with Plexis.” He
paused and I knew he was deciding whether to say more or not. It wasn’t in his
nature to share, but I’d thought I convinced him that he could talk business
with me. I continued working his back as I waited, giving him a chance to continue.

My patience was rewarded. “The
board is moving to sell. I need to come up with an attractive proposal to convince
them it’s more profitable to keep the company.”

Even though he couldn’t see me, I
nodded. I studied the screen over his head, enjoying the quiet moans that
escaped from his throat as I massaged his tension away. “You’re redistributing
production?” I asked. But I didn’t need his answer. I could see from what he’d
entered that he was. “You’d make a whole lot more if you moved those North America
lines to your Indonesia plant. You’re far from capacity there.”

“Oh, you’re one of those types
who resort to taking jobs away from American people to cut costs.”

“Not usually,” I said, balling my
hand into a fist to push into the rock under Hudson’s shoulder blade. “But
you’re going to lose all your USA jobs if you don’t do something, right? Losing
a few is better than losing them all.”     

“Yes,” he admitted.

I smiled as he changed his data
to implement my suggestion, giddy that I’d offered an idea that he’d accepted.
Throwing a bit more back into my hands, I felt Hudson’s tight muscle close to
releasing. “Take a deep breath.” He did and I pushed once more into his knot,
feeling it loosen as I did.

“Thanks,” he said, slightly awed,
rolling his shoulders.

I shook my hands out. “You’re
welcome.”

Returning my focus to Hudson’s
work I noticed the technical specifications sheet of a new product on the pile
next to him. “Besides,” I said, reaching to grab the piece of paper, “if you
start producing this energy efficient bulb in the American plant in its place,
you’ll maintain those jobs and save money with that new tax law. Plus you’ll
get a tax break for employing Americans.”

Hudson shook his head. “That law
only benefits new companies.”

“No, it benefits any product that
hasn’t been produced in the U.S. before, new company or not.”

“I don’t think that’s correct.”

I’d led an entire seminar on the
new tax code my last semester at Stern. I knew what I was talking about. His
opposition was a challenge. “Do you have a copy of the current tax code?”

“On my Kindle. Under there
somewhere.” Hudson nodded his head at the stacks of reports sitting next to
him.

I moved around the couch and
started to dig through his piles in search of the device. “Wouldn’t you be more
comfortable at a table?”

Without looking at me his lips
curved slightly as he said, “I wanted to be near you.”

His answer surprised me. The
other men in the room weren’t paying attention to us. He hadn’t said it for
them. He’d meant it.

“I like being near you, too,” I
said, when I recovered enough to speak. I didn’t look at him, hiding the blush
from my admission while searching for the Kindle. After I found it, I quickly
looked up the law I was referring to and handed the proof to Hudson.

“Well, well,” he said after he
read it. “Looks like you’re onto something here.”

He started to hand the Kindle
back to me, but paused, studying me.

I couldn’t interpret the meaning,
but the intensity of his gaze made my chest tight and my thighs warm. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Passing the Kindle to me, he asked, “Would you mind sharing your thoughts on
the rest of my proposal?”

My heart sped up, delighted at
the invitation. From what I’d learned about Hudson, inviting his girlfriend—or
woman he was sleeping with, anyway—to work on a business project with him was
not his typical mode of operation. It was new territory for him, which made it
exactly the territory I enjoyed charting most. 

We spent the rest of the
afternoon working together, Hudson bouncing ideas off of me as I researched
further information when he needed it. While I’d always enjoyed the world of
business, I hadn’t thought it could be so fun, hence the reason I’d chosen to
manage a nightclub rather than to pursue an office job. But now an office job
seemed rather appealing. Especially if that job included working side by side
with Hudson Pierce. Though, with all the accidental brushes and searing looks
we exchanged, I doubted we could manage working together for a prolonged period
of time without losing most of our clothing.

But, really, that only made the
job sound more appealing.

The savory aroma of a roast
wafting from the kitchen wing caused my stomach to growl. I stretched. “Is it
close to dinnertime?”

 Behind me, Mira answered. “I was
just coming to tell you dinner is served.”

“I didn’t realize you were home.
When did you get back?”

“A few minutes ago.  Mom has a
headache but everyone else is already waiting in the dining room.”

“A headache, huh?” I eyed Hudson.
I was beginning to suspect Sophia was avoiding me.  How had the conversation in
the kitchen ended that morning? Had Hudson won the battle, giving me reprieve
of his mother’s nastiness?

“She’s known to get them from
time to time.” His expression was tight, giving nothing away. Which told me
everything I needed to know. I’d have to repay him later for the kindness.

After supper, Chandler left to
meet friends and the rest of us headed back to the media room. Hudson got back
on his laptop and I assumed he was diving back into work. Instead he handed his
laptop to me. “All right, Alayna. Tell me something you need to see off your
list and we’ll download it from iTunes.”

Puzzled, I took his laptop and
found he’d loaded up the AFI list of best movies. I tried not to grin too wide,
not wanting to seem too surprised because he remembered my goal to watch all
the titles on the list. He was my “boyfriend,” after all. He should have
remembered.

But he really wasn’t my
boyfriend, and I found the gesture oddly touching.

“Are you going to watch it, too?”
I asked, suddenly worried he meant to keep working on his Plexis dilemma
without me.

“I am.” He’d already begun
packing away his reports into his briefcase as he spoke.

I chose
Midnight Cowboy
after discovering Hudson hadn’t seen it either. Adam took care of setting up
the movie then settled into one side of the couch with Mira. After Hudson
cleaned up his area, he patted the seat next to him, his arm outstretched and inviting.
Gladly, I sank into the sofa next to him, cuddling into his warm embrace.

The American Film Institute named
Midnight Cowboy
as number forty-three on their Top One Hundred. But
watching it snuggled with Hudson—it was my new number one.

When it was over we all went our
separate ways for the night. In our bedroom, Hudson sat on the bed, fully
dressed, and pulled out his laptop again.

Though he’d relinquished his
computer during the movie, content to hold me and to snack on microwave
popcorn, he’d worked most of the day. I studied him, his intense features
appearing tired. We’d stayed up late the night before, and I didn’t know what
time he woke before bringing up breakfast. I wouldn’t be surprised to find he’d
been buried in work then too. “H, you’re a workaholic. Are you going to be at
it all night?”

He grinned though his eyes never
left the screen. “Oh, precious, work is not what I’ll be at all night. But I
need a few minutes to send this new proposal to the board before I can devote
my attention to you. Do you mind?”

“Take your time. I’ll get ready
for bed.” I lowered the lights as he had the night before, then took advantage
of his distraction and retrieved the sexy nightie I’d brought with me before
slipping into the bathroom.

I didn’t hurry as I undressed,
taking the opportunity to shave and apply lotion before slipping on the red
lace halter baby-doll I’d purchased on Friday afternoon. The halter-top
accentuated my breasts, an area of my body that Hudson appreciated. I removed
the ponytail holder from my hair and let it spill around my shoulders in a
seductive mess. I brushed my teeth and applied a thin layer of strawberry lip gloss.

When I was satisfied with my
appearance, I opened the door to the bedroom and posed in the doorway, waiting
for Hudson’s reaction.

I was met with quiet snoring.

With his hands still propped on
his open laptop, Hudson had fallen asleep, fully dressed. I sighed, debating
how to address the situation. Of course I wanted him awake, but he wouldn’t
have fallen asleep like that if he wasn’t truly worn out. Plus, I had to remind
myself, night was my time of day—not his.

Gently, I slipped the computer
from his grasp and placed it on the nightstand. The movement didn’t disturb him
in the least—he was out. I decided to let him sleep, but as for myself, I
wasn’t in the least bit tired. I wondered if Jack was still awake—maybe we
could play another round of poker, though being alone with the man wasn’t
entirely a great idea. I peered out the window and saw the guesthouse was dark.
Probably for the best.

The pool sprawled below my window
though, and suddenly a midnight swim sounded heavenly. I traded my lingerie for
a string bikini, threw on my robe, and grabbed a towel. Then I slipped on my
flip-flops and turned off all the lights before venturing down to the grounds.

The pool was heated and felt
amazing—exactly what I’d needed. I hadn’t been for a swim in months, since I’d
let my gym membership expire earlier in the year. And I had the place to myself—perfection.

I pushed myself through thirty
serious laps before relaxing into a dozen or so at a leisurely pace. Then I sat
on the step in the shallow end of the pool, letting my heart rate return to
normal while lazing in the warm water.

“Where’s Hudson?” Sophia’s voice
startled me from my reverie.

I shifted in my spot and found
her standing behind me, dressed in the same robe she’d worn the night before, and,
again, a glass of amber liquid in her hand. I wondered if she was a heavy
drinker or if my being in her home brought it on.

“He’s…he fell asleep.” I climbed
out of the pool and reached for my towel, feeling small in her presence. She
had that effect on me in general, but also I hadn’t asked anyone if I could use
the pool and I worried I’d taken advantage of my host’s hospitality. Although,
Sophia hadn’t been hospitable in the least, so perhaps it was a moot concern.

I faced away from her as I
toweled off, but I heard her take a seat in a deck chair behind me. “He doesn’t
love you, you know?”

I’d heard her, but didn’t trust
my ears. I turned to meet her narrow eyes. “Pardon me?”

“He can’t.” She swirled the liquid
in her glass as she spoke, her tone laced with pain. “He’s incapable.”

Incapable.
That was
exactly what Hudson had said. Had it been his mother who had forced him to
embrace such an idiotic idea about himself? The earlier hostility I’d felt
toward her when I’d listened at the kitchen door returned and spilled like
poison from my lips. “Maybe you’re projecting your own incapability of
emotion.”

Her voice grew colder, but
remained steady, in control. “Your words can’t touch me, Ms. Withers. This is
my
house, Hudson is
my
son. I’m the one in power here.”

“Fuck you.”

She smiled. “He’s had years of
therapy. Extensive therapy.”

So have I.
I threw my
towel down and wrapped my robe around me, taking the time to make sure my tone
was as level as hers when I spoke again. “He’s told me.”

“Has he? But he hasn’t shared the
details.” She leaned forward, her eyes catching one of the outdoor lights,
causing them to glow red. She couldn’t have looked nastier if she’d tried. “If
he had, you’d know he can’t love anyone. He’s sociopathic. Diagnosed at age
twenty.”

She surprised me, the lack of
strength in my response telling her as much. “Hudson’s not a sociopath.” Was
he?

“He’s deceitful and manipulative,
egocentric, grandiose, glib and superficial. Incapable of remorse. He engages
in casual and impersonal sexual relationships.” She ticked off traits easily,
as if they always bubbled right there at the surface of her consciousness.
“Look it up—he fits the definition to a tee. He has no concern for others’
feelings. He can’t love anyone.”

“I don’t believe that.” But my
voice cracked.

“You’re extremely naïve.”

“You’re an extreme bitch.” I
gathered my towel in my arms and slipped on my flip-flops, needing to be away
from her and her horrible accusations. But her words had already done their job.
I doubted, and she knew it.

“He’s only with you for the sex.”
She stood, blocking me from the path to the house. “You’re attractive.” Her
eyes skidded down to my bosom. “And clearly his type. He seems to like fucking
buxom brunettes the most.”

I had nothing to say in my
defense. He’d told me our relationship was only sex. I was aware enough of my
obligations to my on-duty job, though, and I spoke as if we were a real couple.
“If it was just sex, he’d never bring me to meet you.”