His to Hold: A Billionaire Romance (His to Have Book 2) (2 page)

At first, I have no idea why Blake would have all these seemingly innocuous files, but little by little, I start to notice patterns. The companies are related. I figure this out within the first hour. None of them are based in the US. They’re all based offshore. Most are in the Caymans, but they’re scattered across the globe. Two of the account numbers match up. I doubt I’d have noticed, but the final four numbers on one of the accounts are the same as my birthday. In order to figure this all out, I need somewhere to write this down, but I’m afraid of leaving any trace that I looked at the files.

I create tricks to remember a few more of the numbers, and read through the sheets. There are more than a dozen companies, but every last one is connected. I spend the rest of the day figuring out the movement of finances from one company to the next, flipping from paper to paper, drawing the connections in my mind. It would be easier if I could write on the files or make copies, but I can’t. I don’t want to leave a trace. At the end of the night, I gather all of the papers into their files and put everything back in place.

I have a few paper cuts, and my hands are dried out from handling paper all day, but I feel like I’m on to something. When I finally fall asleep, I dream of paperwork. I dream that I’m adding up the totals from all of the files, but nothing equals out. I see numbers floating in red in front of me. The numbers are all flowing in one direction. It’s a shell game. When I wake, I know I’m close to some kind of answer. It would help if I knew what the question was, but there are too many questions swirling in my mind.

Does this have anything to do with Ben, Blake or my father? I don’t know. Do these files have anything to do with Carlisle Capital? None of the documents came from my father’s company, and none of them seem to have anything to do with Blake’s company either. I still have a whole filing cabinet left to search through. I pick the lock on the second cabinet. It takes me less than a minute this time. I’m getting better at this whole sleuthing thing.

The second cabinet raises more questions than the first. These files
are
from my father’s company. It’s everything I expected to see yesterday. There are emails, memos, account statements, all with the Carlisle Capital logo on top. This has to be what Ben was looking for. They must prove Blake’s innocence in some way. Otherwise, why would he keep them? There are hundreds of files and thousands of pages. It’s going to take the better part of several days to go through all of this. I start making a plan. I’m going to figure out how to clear Blake’s name. First step: eat something before I pass out.

I’m three steps from the fridge when I hear the door downstairs click open. Its hinges are rusted, and it scrapes against the ground, and it might as well be a foghorn for how loud it sounds to me. Blake calls out, “Cat, are you there?”

My heart races. I don’t know whether I’m overjoyed at Blake being back or terrified of what he’ll think if he sees that I’ve been going through his files. I run over to the cabinet and slam it shut. I run to the bed and sit down on the edge. I realize how long it’s been since I’ve seen him, and I wonder if I look terrible. I pull my hair back. I wonder how my face looks. I try to think of ways to make myself look calm before Blake climbs the stairs. I’m wearing an old t-shirt of his and pajama pants that are too big for me. It’s not exactly sexy, but I didn’t have much choice from his limited wardrobe.

But then he’s standing before me, and none of that matters. Nothing matters except for the look on his face when he says he’s been worried sick about me and he didn’t want to risk being followed. He pulls me up from my seat and kisses me.

The second his lips touch mine, I forget about everything. Every obstacle, every worry, every doubt, it all just melts away as he leans into me and holds me. I could melt in his arms. I could forget about everything.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he says. “I came as soon as I could. I knew you’d be here. I knew I could count on you.”

He lifts me up into the air. I wrap my legs around him. I feel dizzy and warm. Everything about this moment just feels so right. There’s so much I want to ask him, so much I need to know, but not yet. I need this moment as much as he does. I need to feel his touch. I don’t just want him to tell me that everything is going to be okay. I need to feel it in his touch.

He kisses my neck as he backs me onto the bed. Another motion and he’s on top of me. I want him. I want to lose myself in his arms.

“I like the look,” he says. He slides his hands under my shirt and slips it over my head. He grins and kisses my collarbone, sending waves of warmth through my chest. His hands are on my breasts and then my hips, and he’s sliding my pants off. I fumble with his shirt, ripping it open as quickly as possible. I grab his belt and pull it off of him as he grinds against me. I can feel his excitement.

I moan as he rocks against me again.

“I want you now,” I tell him.

Blake reaches behind my back and unclasps my bra before sliding my panties down my thighs. “I’ve been thinking about this moment since you left. I’m not going to rush it.”

He kisses my breasts and then my stomach. His hands are firm on my hips, but his kisses are so soft and tender. They send butterflies through my stomach. When he kisses between my legs, I gasp and spread wider for him. I close my eyes as he flicks his tongue against me, and I curl my toes. “Get up here,” I tell him.

He stands up and strips, tossing his shirt aside, letting his clothes fall in a heap around his ankles. When he slides off his underwear, I can barely contain my excitement. He’s completely hard. He leans down and grabs something from his pocket—a condom. He holds it in his hand as he lowers himself against me. I feel the bare skin of his shaft against my sex as he grinds against me. It feels hard and smooth and warm. I grab the condom from him and unwrap it, tossing the wrapper aside and sliding the condom over his cock.

When he presses his tip against me, I feel like I might climax that very second, but then he pushes himself inside me and I cry out. He gasps too, taking a short, sharp breath. Then he moves inside me and leans in for another kiss. When his lips meet mine, I feel like we’re completely connected, completely in sync. It’s incredible.

With each movement, my need for him increases. I run my hands over his arms and chest. I grab his ass and pull him harder against myself as I grind my hips into his. He rocks into me again and again. I can’t help but shout in delight as he grabs my hips and directs my motion, moving me in time, sending new surges of excitement through my body.

He holds me tight and rolls over, flipping me on top of him in one fluid motion. He lets one hand run over my breasts before leaning up and pressing his lips to my nipple. He kisses my breasts as he works me up and down his length. Then both his hands are ranging all over my body. He can’t get enough of me. He’s kissing my neck and my shoulders, and he’s looking at me with that look again, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He cups my breasts and bucks his hips against me, and I grind down against him. He’s so hard inside me that it makes me ache in the best possible way.

He kisses my chest again before sitting up and sealing his lips against mine. I’m still in his lap, but now his chest is firmly against mine and I feel like he has complete control of my body. He grabs my hips hard and rocks me against him. I can hear our breaths echoing back and forth, overlapping as we race our bodies against each other, desperate to feel that last rush.

I’m crying out now, and I don’t know how much longer this level of pleasure can last. Blake holds me tight as he starts to climax. I can feel him pulsing inside me. It sends me into a dizzying spiral of delight until finally, I can’t hold off for another second. I tense my entire body against him and shout as I come. I collapse against him as he leans back in the bed.

Blake runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he says.

I look at him and laugh. “Your eyes are closed.”

“I haven’t slept in days,” he replies. “How about I never let you out of my sight as soon as I wake up?”

“That sounds great to me,” I say. I slide myself off of him and nuzzle up to his side. He wraps an arm around me, and I listen to his breathing as he falls asleep. There’s so much we need to talk about. There are the files, the secrets, and everything having to do with my father and Ben and the investigation. For the moment, none of that matters. For this moment, as Blake holds me in his arms, everything is right.

CHAPTER 4
 

CATHERINE

Blake wakes up an hour later. The sun is shining through the dirt-streaked windows, and he still has his arm around me. I lie my head against his chest. I can hear his heart beating. I can hear his breaths. I feel warm and secure. If I could trade everything else in my life for that feeling, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d gladly be broke if it meant having that kind of happiness. But my happiness can’t be an excuse. I can’t just bury my head in the sand and pretend that everything is okay.

“We need to talk about something,” I say. I feel like I’m breaking the spell, ending our perfect moment, but this is too important to just ignore. “I need to know what’s going on. Blake, you can trust me with anything. You know that, right?”

“I trust you with my life,” he says, “but this isn’t just about me. This is bigger than that. I’m trying to protect you,” he says. He’s running his fingers through my hair. “The less you know about any of it, the less likely you are to get hurt.”

“I’m here with you, and I’m here for you, but you have to tell me what’s going on. If you’re worried about hurting my feelings because my father is involved with this or you think you’ll somehow makes me feel bad, don’t. I already told him I’m on your side.”

“You did?” he asks. The genuine surprise of his question catches me off guard. Suddenly, his guard is down again. He brushes my hair aside and places his hand on my cheek. He presses his lips to mine. The kiss is warm and comforting, and I can feel myself losing my resolve as I start to lose myself in Blake’s affection.

“Of course,” I say. “I’d do anything for you. I just need you to trust me.”

“This isn’t just about your father, Cat,” he says. “I wish there were an easier way to explain everything.” He’s looking into my eyes, searching for something, as if I could answer the question for him. He clears his throat and sits up. “I guess it would help if I start by explaining what happened at Carlisle Capital. Have you ever heard of a company named M-CORE?”

“No,” I say. “What was it, some kind of front?”

Blake laughs. “I don’t even know what M-CORE is. Let me tell you what I do know. When I started working for Carlisle Capital, I was lucky to get the job, or at least I thought I was lucky to get the job. I was fresh out of school, and I was making big money for the first time. We’re talking a hundred thousand a year. Within two years, I was making several times that. I was rising up the ladder faster than I knew was possible.

“People started talking about me inside the company. They started calling me the golden boy. It seemed like every trade I made was successful. After a while, I began to wonder if I was having too much success. I mean, we were coming close to the height of the market and everything was crazy anyways, but I was on a hot streak like no one had ever seen before. I figured out something wasn’t right. I started going back through the records, and that’s when I found it. Three trades at huge volumes in a company named M-CORE.

“At first I thought it was some kind of accounting error, but then I noticed a few other trades I hadn’t made were on my file. Some were winners, some were losers, but overall, it was a huge boon of cash. We’re talking tens of millions of dollars. And none of this reflected the actual work I had been doing. Well, I went to accounting to see if there had been a mix-up, and then I went to my boss, who went all the way up the ladder to your father.”

“Seriously?” I ask.

“Yeah. He asked me to meet him for lunch the next week. We left the building and went somewhere. I can’t remember where, but it was nice, and he offered me a promotion for my diligence. I thought I had exposed something. I thought I had done the right thing, and I went back to my work thinking it was over. Except a few months later, I noticed another irregularity and another after that, and I went directly to your father this time, but he was out. He was out a lot that spring. He was all bent out of shape. It was an open secret that he was a train wreck.”

“That was the year my brother died,” I say. “I didn’t know he had taken it so hard.” All I had gotten from him was a look of disappointment at the funeral. My father had always been detached, and I had just assumed he had buried my brother and moved on with his life. It never occurred to me that my father loved us, that he cared about us more than business or money or power. I try to think back to everything that happened in the limo, the argument, me leaving. Was he mad at me for messing up his plans? Or was he mad because our relationship was broken beyond repair, and I was only making it worse by leaving?

“I think he saw me the same way he saw you, like someone who needed direction. I don’t know why, but he took an active interest in me, started grooming me for bigger things. I tried to tell him about the trades, but he wouldn’t listen. I tried to warn him that something was wrong, but he insisted everything was fine. It wasn’t.”

“What does this have to do with the company you were talking about earlier?” I ask. I sit up and put my feet down on the floor. “Can you hand me that shirt?”

Blake laughs and starts picking our clothes up off the floor. He tosses me the shirt. “This part might take a while,” he says. “Do you remember how I told you that my sister moved to New York to follow a boyfriend? That wasn’t exactly true. There’s another part to this story, and it’s where the trouble really started. Something happened when I was a teenager. It was bad enough that my sister and I left town in the middle of the night. We changed our names. She dyed her hair and cut it short. She managed to get a job working at a bar. I wanted to drop out of school and help pay the bills, but my sister wouldn’t let me. She forced me to go to school. So I forged a transcript under my fake name and enrolled in school here in Brooklyn. I felt so guilty about lying about who I was that I made sure to use all my real grades, right down to the C I had gotten in shop class.”