Surprising Ethan at his office seemed like a good idea, but I wasn’t willing to do it without some assistance. I enlisted Elaina’s help first. I really liked her. She seemed honest and very straightforward, which I respected in a person. She was also engaged to Neil. I found that out after I started sleeping over at Ethan’s place. One morning when we hit the elevators to leave for work, I saw Elaina and Neil coming out of the flat on the other wing, hand in hand. Ethan saw my surprise and told me they were getting married in the fall.
I was relieved Elaina didn’t act jealous about her fiancé driving me around London. I think she was happy that Ethan had a girlfriend. I’d noticed that his employees really seemed to care about him. And I liked that too.
“Hi, Elaina, it’s Brynne.”
“Hello, Brynne. Why didn’t you call through to his cell?” Smart girl, Elaina, always aware of logistics.
“I was thinking of surprising him with lunch. Can you check his schedule for me?”
I heard some flipping of pages and then she put me on hold. “He is in office today. Busy with conference calls and such but no appointments away on his schedule.”
“Thanks, Elaina. I would just ask Frances, but Ethan has her on speaker and he hears when I call so I can’t do a surprise. Can I bring you all something from King’s Delicatessen? I am just going to pick up sandwiches, but I was thinking if you could get Frances to tell Ethan she was ordering, then he won’t know it’s me being lunch lady today.”
Elaina laughed and put me on hold again while she got food orders from everyone. “Frances told me to tell you she likes your style, Brynne. Keeping the boss on his toes is good for him.”
“I think so too,” I said, writing down the sandwich orders. “Thanks for your help, and I should be there within the hour.”
We hung up and I phoned the delicatessen to order the food, and then Neil for a ride. I cleared up my area and organized supplies while I waited. I was done here for the day and wouldn’t be returning for nearly a week. Final exams were coming and I needed to study. My plan was to hole up at Ethan’s place and hit the books while he worked, use his home gym and magnificent coffeemaker, and basically go off the radar for a while. I needed the time, and so did my grades.
I took a last look at Lady Percival and felt a burst of pride. She had come along nicely, and the best part was I now knew the name of the book she held in her hands. Ethan had helped me solve the mystery when he’d brought me to work one morning and I’d invited him back here.
The book my mysterious lady held was in fact so special and so rare that the Mallerton Society wanted her included in the exhibition even though she was not even close to being fully conserved. They wanted to showcase her as an example of how ambiguous clues can be revealed with proper restoration and cleaning. The disclosure of what she held in her hand had also enhanced the provenance for the artist in general. Sir Tristan Mallerton was now enjoying a renaissance of renewed interest and exposure even though he’d been dead for a very long time.
My phone buzzed with a text from Neil. He’d arrived outside, so I gathered my things and took off, waving to Rory as I checked out.
Neil helped me with the food and used a company credit card to pay for everything, which got him a stern look from me.
“Well he thinks Frances ordered lunch, and this is how he does it. If you pay he’ll be a right prick about it when he finds out,” Neil said.
“Has he always been so controlling, Neil?” I asked once we were back in the car and on our way. Neil and I had developed an easy rapport. We respected the other’s position and needs, so the relationship worked.
“No.” Neil shook his head. “E had a hard edge to him when he got out of the SF. But then war changes everybody who gets too close to it. E got as close as it gets and made it out alive. He’s a walking miracle.”
“I’ve seen his scars,” I said.
“Did he tell you about what happened in Afghanistan?” Neil looked up at me in the rearview.
“No,” I answered truthfully, realizing that the information coming from Neil would stop and I would be no closer to understanding Ethan’s past than he would be about knowing mine.
Elaina helped us dole out the food to the proper parties and Frances ushered me into Ethan’s inner sanctum with a smug look and shut the door. He was on the phone.
My gorgeous guy was busy with work but still held out his hand to me. I set the sandwiches on his desk and went to him. He snaked his arm around me and pulled me down onto his lap, and kept right on with his business call.
“Right, I know. But you tell those fools that Blackstone represents the Royal Family, and when Her Majesty shows up for the opening ceremonies to give her blessing there will not be one fucking exit left unattended. Period. No negotiation . . .”
Ethan continued with his call and I began unpacking his lunch. He moved his hand up to the back of my neck and rubbed. It felt divine with him touching me even though any idiot could see he was dreadfully busy.
I set out his food on a plate and then unwrapped mine. I bit into my chicken salad on wheat while he massaged my neck. A girl could seriously get used to this. Ethan was so affectionate, and I loved the way he wanted to touch me all the time. My touchy-feely guy. I was nearly done with half of my sandwich before he ended his call.
Both hands reached and turned me, still on his lap. He gave me a very nice kiss and groaned. “Finally. It’s like talking to a brick wall sometimes,” he muttered. He smiled at me and looked at the plate. “You brought me lunch . . . and your delicious self.”
I smiled back. “I did.”
“Which should I devour first, the sandwich or you?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me, his hands starting to roam up the side of my sweater.
“I think you better devour your sandwich before you get another phone call,” I told him.
His phone rang.
He scowled and resigned himself to it. The second call was relatively quick, though, and he managed to start his roast beef on rye before the third one came through. He put that call on speaker so he could eat and converse at the same time. Not very elegant, but it worked.
I was content to sit with him and listen to his work business while he smoothed a hand up and down my back. Ethan made me feel glad I had stopped by even though this would be no social lunch for us. The timing was crazy for him and me. I can’t imagine his job could be any more complicated than at the moment with the Olympics looming and London hosting the whole thing. He should have just sent me a note that said, “I just bought your portrait and I’d really like to get to know you—sometime in mid-August.”
He kept his phone on speaker and we managed a few quick kisses in between calls and bites, but soon it was hard to justify as a lunch hour anymore.
“I should get going, Ethan.” I kissed him and started to get up.
“No.” He held me on his lap. “I don’t want you to go yet. I like having you here with me. You soothe me, baby.” He rested his head on top of mine. “You are my ray of light in a fog of ignorance and frustration.”
“Really? You like that I came and complicated your day and forced food on you?” I fiddled with his tie clip and smoothed his tie. “You’re so busy with your work, and I’m interrupting.”
“No, you’re not,” he traced his lips along my throat. “It tells me that you care for me,” he said quietly.
“I do, Ethan,” I whispered back.
“So you’ll stay for a while?”
How could I say no to him when he was so sweet with me? “All right, just an hour more. But then I have to really go. I need to stop by my flat and get some things. I have to study for exams, and I want to get in a workout. You’re not the only one around here that’s busy.” I tweaked his chin and made him grin at me.
“I want to get busy with you right here on my desk,” he growled and lifted me up, plopping me ass first on his big executive desk.
I squeaked as he pounced, pushing my legs apart so he could get in between with his hips. “Ethan! Your office! We can’t!”
He reached under his desk, and I heard the click of the door locking. “I want you so badly right now. I need you, Brynne. Please?”
He was all over me, hands gripping, pushing me back on the desk and thrusting hard at my center. I let him press me down and slide me to the edge, my body already softening and heating up for him. His purposeful long fingers made their way to my panties and peeled those babies right down my legs, over my boots and dropped somewhere on the floor of his office. I’d found that Ethan was definitely an opportunist whenever I chose to wear a skirt.
“You’re a crazy man,” I murmured, not really caring anymore that we were about to fuck on his desk in the middle of his place of work.
“Crazy for you,” he said, fingering my clit and getting me wet. I heard his belt jingle and then his zipper go down. And then he was sinking that delicious heat all the way in me, slow and deep.
He leaned over me and took my face in both hands. He kissed me hard, thrusting his tongue into my mouth as he liked to do. Ethan dominated during sex. He wanted his tongue and his fingers and his cock in me all at once. Like that way he could claim me more completely. I don’t know why, it was just his way. And I loved it. His way was honest and totally direct. I knew what I would get with Ethan, and it always ended with an orgasm that left me trembling.
Ethan started moving and so did I. We were wild with it too. Totally abandoned and lustfully fucking on top of his desk when the phone rang. He’d left it on speaker. “Don’t answer it,” I gasped, nearly ready to climax.
“Hell, no,” he grunted, pounding faster into me, his cock swelling to the bone-hard density it got right before he came.
He slid his magic fingers over my clit and I broke apart, biting down on my lip to keep from crying out. Ethan was not far behind me. He covered my mouth with his to keep us both from shouting and pumped his orgasm inside me.
The unanswered call went to voice mail, but still on speaker.
“Ethan Blackstone is unavailable. Please leave your message and number where you can be reached . . .”
The beep sounded and we panted at each other, our faces just inches apart. I smiled at him. He smoothed my hair so gently and kissed me like a lover would. I felt precious to him. He made me feel that way.
“You’re an asshole, Blackstone. I hired you to protect my daughter, not to fuck her! She’s been through hell, and the last thing she needs is another heartbreaking betrayal. The way she talks I think she’s in love with you—”
Ethan fumbled with the phone to shut it down, but it was too late. I heard my own father’s voice on the phone. I knew . . . the truth about Ethan and me. I shoved at him, fighting to get him off.
“Brynne, no! Please let me explain—”
He looked white as a sheet and totally stone-cold terrified as he held me under him, our bodies still joined.
“Get off me. Get your cock out of me and let me go, you mother-fucking liar!”
He held me to him, eyes on me. “Baby . . . listen to me. I was going to tell you—I was ready to a long time ago, but I didn’t want to bring up bad memories for you. I don’t want to hurt you—”
“Get. Off. Me. Now.”
“Please don’t leave. Brynne, I—I—didn’t mean to hurt you, but I was protecting you from remembering. There’s a threat out there to your safety . . . and then I met you . . . and I couldn’t stop wanting you. I couldn’t stay away from you.” He tried to kiss me.
I turned my face away and closed my eyes. All the trust I had for this man was gone. In its place a terrible ache filled my heart. He knew about me. He knew what had happened to me. Probably had seen the video. And now there were people out to hurt me? Why? He was hired by my dad and all this time he knew and I didn’t. How could he? How could he be the Ethan I’d fallen in love with and betray me like this?
“Waterloo.” I turned back and stared.
“No . . . no . . . no,” he chanted. “Please no, Brynne.” He shook his head back and forth, his eyes devastated.
“Water-fucking-loo, Ethan. And if you don’t get off me I will scream the walls down.” I spoke clear and soft, my heart hardened and bleeding black blood. Blackstone blood.
He moved out of me and helped me sit up. I hopped off his desk and lunged for my bag. He zipped up his pants and tried again. “Brynne, baby, I—I love you. I love you so much; I would do anything not to hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”
I tried to get out the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “Unlock it,” I demanded.
“Did you hear me just now?”
I looked at him and nodded. “Open the door so I can leave.” I spoke very evenly, surprised I was not a weeping wreck crumpled to the floor. I just needed to get out of here and to my flat. I had one purpose, and it was to flee to safety.
He rubbed his head and looked down, then moved to his desk and reached the button or whatever it was that held me in. I heard the click and I was out of there.
“Thank you for the delicious lunch, dear,” Frances called as I bailed.
I waved at her but was unable to speak. I just walked out. I had my purse and no underwear, but I wasn’t going back in there to find them. Just get me out of here and home . . . just get me out of here and home . . . just get me out—
Oh my God, I was leaving Ethan. We were done. He’d lied to me and I couldn’t trust him anymore. He said he loved me. Is that what lovers do? They lie?
I didn’t speak to Elaina at reception either when I headed for the elevators. I pushed the call button and realized he was right behind me. Ethan had chased me down and still I didn’t break.
“Brynne . . . baby, please don’t leave like this. God, I—I fucked up. I love you. Please—”
He put his hand on my shoulder and I flinched. “No you don’t,” was all I could manage.
“Yes I do!” he yelled, his voice getting angry. “You can leave me but I’ll still be protecting you. I’ll still be watching over you to make sure you’re safe and that nobody can hurt you!”
“What about you hurting me?” I spat back at him. “And you’re fired, Ethan. Don’t ever contact me again.” The elevator dinged and the doors opened. I stepped in and turned around to face him.
He rolled his head up and opened his mouth in a pleading gesture that told me he was hurting. Not as bad as I was, but he looked ragged and desperate. “Brynne . . . don’t do this,” he begged as the doors started to close me in alone.
I heard a loud bang coupled with one very comprehensible f-bomb shouted as the car started to take me down. Down to the street where I would hail a cab to drive me home to my flat. Where I would fall apart as soon as I could get inside, and where I would crawl into my bed and curl up and try to forget him. Ethan Blackstone. I was doomed to failure. I knew that. I would never be able to forget Ethan. Never.
