Beneath Her Skin Page 8

  “All right, I’ll accept that you aren’t involved, but if you find anything, I want to know. I can’t live in a bubble the rest of my life, waiting for someone to hurt me, especially when they hurt people I care about.”

  As she referred to Harry, she was keenly aware of her surroundings. She was still standing in front of the elevator, and too close to Harry’s front door. Flushing, she turned toward the elevator panel, jabbing the button again. The door dinged open. Not expecting an answer, she strode into the car. Her nerves were battered, bashed, and unhinged. It would not take much to send her crashing over the edge. One meltdown for the day was enough.

  Chapter 5

  The executive suite at S-Tec was beyond words. Brooke stood in the foyer, awestruck. This was nowhere near the urban contemporary design at Jennifer’s place. Her new digs screamed old world meets modern flare.

  Stone and stressed wood lined the impressive front entry with a wrought iron glass table and equally stunning mirror. Further inside, there was beautiful cathedral ceilings, stunning plush décor and a fire crackling in the hearth. A wall of windows bathed the apartment with the Washington, D.C. skyline, inviting and captivating. While the earthy tones ranged from browns to charcoal, there was a subtle influx of orange and natural greens. She felt as though she had stepped into an Italian villa.

  “Take a look around,” Damon said softly.

  She hardly noticed him as her feet moved her deeper into her surroundings. Her gaze skimmed over every detail. The master bedroom astounded her. A huge wrought iron bed, a cozy sitting area, not to mention the biggest bathroom, she had ever seen with another fireplace. Everything screamed charm and expensive. More stone, more beauty. Comfort was key, but she had the feeling this was more than a peaceful abode. This apartment couldn’t be for anyone else but Damon.

  Unease settled in her stomach. Why would he offer this to her? A stranger no less.

  Striding back through the apartment, she glanced at the kitchen, finding more stone and wrought iron, but she made her way over to the sofa area where Damon stood.

  Sunlight glinted behind him, bathing him in light. The impressive cut of his shoulders was wide and muscled. Another wash of desire traveled her veins, taking her emotions for a thrilling ride. There was no doubt he was super handsome.

  She licked her lips, remembering his taste. His dark head was bent at a slight angle with a tight, weary expression. Her eyes zeroed in on his face. For a moment, he appeared to be struggling. When he saw her, his profile transformed, as if a mask veiled his true feelings.

  He flashed a brief smile. “I hope you like the apartment.”

  She nodded. “Yes, it’s beautiful. But I have to ask, this isn’t a random place. This is yours. Why let me live here?”

  All amusement left him, replaced with seriousness. “You need a secure place to live, and I need to be sure no one can harm you. I rarely use this apartment, so indulge me?” he asked with an expectant tone.

  There it was again—her doubts he was being truthful. Before she could reply, he took her hands, drawing her closer. “Look, I know this is unconventional, but I thought we covered this.”

  “What? You are railroading me?” She shook her head. “I don’t think this conversation will ever be fully exhausted until you—”

  He dropped one of her hands, sliding his finger over her moving lips. “Let’s not argue over geography, shall we? If something better comes along, I’ll be happy to consider it.” He caressed his hand over her jaw, winking.

  “Smooth,” she said with a smile.

  “I try to be.” He stepped back, waving a hand over the glass-topped coffee table. There were several items lined up. “These are part of your sign on bonus with S-Tec. A laptop, a new smartphone, a tablet, an expense credit card, along with a surprise,” he said, pointing to a big square box. “Normally, I would provide you with a company car, but under the circumstances, I would rather Shem take you wherever you need to go. His number is programmed into the phone. Call him at your convenience.”

  Feeling queasy, Brooke shook her head. She did not know whether to throw up, run away, or kick him out. Everything was happening too fast for her liking and she did not know how to stop the sensation of drowning.

  “Enough already. You’ve made your point.”

  “Not quite,” he murmured.

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “As we discussed the terms of your employment, I mentioned a sign on bonus too. The amount was deposited in your bank after you accepted your position.”

  She remembered. He wanted to give her the fat sum of fifty-thousand. She had flatly refused. Anger pitted her stomach. It was not that she couldn’t use the money, but that was more than she could accept from a man she didn’t know or a job she wasn’t sure she could handle. Whether or not if he could afford such a payout, she couldn’t afford living with herself by accepting.

  “I recall mentioning how ludicrous the amount was, and I asked you to lower it.”

  His eyes narrowed, and his shoulders straightened. “And I recall, I told you I wouldn’t.”

  Fury tipped her belly, making her chest hurt. Instead of facing off with him, she stalked away, heading for the front door. She could not take another second of this weirdness. Accepting the job and apartment… and maybe the gadgets were one thing, but the money was a deal breaker. She did not want to feel beholden to him.

  Damon grasped her arm. “Brooke, please.”

  She jerked away, whirling to face him. “Please what? Please accept my apology? Please accept the money? Please forgive me for plowing ahead and making decisions for you?” she heaved, her anger barely contained.

  “All the above,” he said in a wistful tone.

  His expression softened, appearing as he did the first time she saw him. The haunted reflection was back on his face, looking worried and ashen. A surge of remorse hit her, but she would not back down. She couldn’t. He had crossed too many lines, taking liberties where he had no business meddling.

  “God, I don’t understand you, Damon!” she seethed between clenched teeth, her eyes flashing wildly.

  Without a word, he gathered her into his arms. He held her so tight, she thought she might break in half. While she hated to stifle her raging emotions, she knew fighting him would be a losing battle. Somehow, the CEO of S-Tec would not back down from taking care of her.

  “That makes two of us,” he whispered against her temple.

  She let go of her frustration, breathing deeply of his male scent. She hated that he held this kind of power over her—the controlling interest part of her female libido. Never had a man taken her to the brink of such emotions, only to soothe her the next. This had to be the wildest ride of her life, while she squeezed him closer. She did not understand her draw to him, but neither could she question it.

  ****

  After speaking to Harry, Brooke discovered him in rare form. He balked that she planned to close Ascent’s doors for the rest of the week, but he relented when she explained how he needed to rest, and she booked no refusals, but she doubted he would listen to her. She felt sure he’d be right back to work the next day. Harry was doubly furious at her possible decision to close the business forever. When she informed him of the amount of debt Uncle Duck had accrued, he was more understanding, though he refused to discuss selling the business. He told her he had some money saved back and he would buy out her half. When she huffed at that, they both agreed to revisit the discussion next weekend. They were both stubborn, so she wasn’t looking forward to battling out the details.

  She set her phone aside, her eyes looking at the big white box. Before she could reach for it, a shrill ring rang out. Frowning, she got up off the sofa, finding the source. It was the intercom near the front door with a light flashing the lobby.

  She picked up the phone, pressing the sleek interface. “Hello?”

  “Ms. Stone,” a calm, deep voice said. “You have a visitor—a Ms. West to see you.”


  Shock rendered her momentarily speechless, but she reacted as soon as her mind connected the dots. “Please send her up.”

  Jennifer was here? She figured she would be out on a date. Replacing the phone, she took two steps, opening the front door. She waited patiently for the elevator to deliver her friend.

  When she arrived, a robust security man followed her, carrying two, small suitcases, while her friend was equally weighed down with several shopping bags and pizza.

  Brooke smiled as they approached. “Hey, I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you’d be out on the town,” she said, hugging her friend, standing aside to allow her friend access. A security guard followed. He set the suitcases inside the foyer and left. “Are you moving in?”

  “Not quite, baby doll.” Jennifer rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you all about it, but first, let’s get busy with some food. I’m starving.”

  As Brooke followed Jennifer, she heard her whistle through her teeth. “Dang, this place puts mine to shame. It’s gorgeous!”

  “Yeah, it’s something.” Brooke didn’t bother to mask her annoyance and went into the elaborate kitchen, locating some plates, napkins, and a bottle wine in a temperature controlled wine cabinet. Finding a corkscrew, she opened the wine. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jennifer place the pizza box on the breakfast bar, sliding up on a stool, and a thought occurred.

  “How did you find me or get through security?”

  Her friend giggled, curving her red hair behind her ear. “After you told me about where you’d be staying, I did some digging in our advertising records online and found Damon’s cell phone. I called him and asked if I could drive down to surprise you. He said he’d make sure I could get through the front gate.”

  She cut a surprised glance at her friend. “Isn’t that risky for you?”

  Jennifer shrugged. “I doubt McDreamy will snitch on me,” she said, opening the pizza box. “Smells divine.” She grabbed a slice, taking a bite.

  As the heavenly scent of their food filled the air, her stomach rumbled. Brooke set up their plates and wine, joining her friend on the stool next to hers. After the first bite, she was hooked on the greasy yumminess. She grabbed a napkin, and her friend poured the wine.

  “So, tell me why you are apprehensive,” Jennifer said.

  She shook her head. “Isn’t this weird? A new apartment, job, and Damon at the tail end of my business sinking and my ransacked apartment.” She told her about the vandalism of Ascent and Harry’s attack.

  “Oh my god. What do the police think?”

  “There’s nothing to go on, I guess,” Brooke said. “They are still checking into it.” She sighed, reaching for her wine, taking a sip.

  Jennifer cocked her head. “You don’t suspect Damon had something to do with all of this, do you?”

  “How contrived would that be, huh?” Brooke swirled the wine in her glass with a half-smile. “I want to believe he is on the up and up, but I’m sure he is hiding something from me, but I doubt it’s about my apartment or business. It’s something else.”

  Her friend smiled. “Maybe he just likes you and gave you the job so he can chase you around the desk and—”

  She smacked Jennifer’s shoulder. “Stop! God, you’re such a horn dog. Not everything comes down to sex.”

  “Who said?” She lifted an eyebrow. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, doll face, but everything does come down to hot, sweaty sex. And the dirtier, the better.” As Jennifer grabbed another slice, she asked, “Have you kissed him, yet?”

  Brooke choked a short laugh. “Really? You think I’d do that with my new boss?”

  “Yes, most definitely. He doesn’t seem the type to miss an opportunity either, especially not the way he appeared ready to devour you.” Grinning, Jennifer reached for her wine glass, clinking it with hers. “Stop worrying and enjoy this. Lord knows, you could use the pampering… and maybe a little office romance.”

  “Not if I can help it,” she grumbled.

  Her friend leaned closer, and whispered, “That’s just it—sometimes you can’t stop the inevitable,” she said with a wink. “Oh, did you know he was married… before, I mean.”

  Brooke frowned. “No, I didn’t. Is he divorced?”

  Shaking her head, Jennifer’s expression lost all her playfulness. “No. His wife died. When I mentioned where you’d be working to my mother, she filled in the gaps. Apparently, Damon’s wife died in a car accident a year and a half ago. They even went to funeral.” She shook her head. “It’s so sad.”

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, a pang twisted her heart. He lost his wife? How devastating.

  “My mom said he hasn’t been seen with a woman since his wife’s passing. It’s rumored he’s a grieving widower.”

  “I can understand why.” Another round of fresh pain stabbed her heart for Damon. She knew the loss of losing someone. There was a permanent hole left—a wound that never healed. Losing Uncle Duck would always remain, but Damon lost his wife. There were no words of condolence to ease that pain.

  “Did your mother say anything else?”

  Jennifer shrugged. “She says he works closely with the government, like weekend barbecues with the President of the United States close. I had no idea how important he is. Mom said there is a high probability that he has enemies. If someone found out about you working for him, they could easily target you.”

  Brooke’s brow drew into a frown. “But we just met on Friday. I doubt anyone would have time to organize a hit on my apartment and business.”

  “But you don’t know who he may have told,” Jennifer volleyed. “His job offer could have been in the works.

  “True,” she said thoughtfully. She thought back to what Damon had said about her professor at Penn State and how he had asked about her. Then again, her professors had loved her, so that could not explain away the vandalism to her apartment and business. “When he offered me this job, he made it seem as though it was top secret—like only a handful of people knew.”

  Jennifer wrapped her arm around Brooke’s shoulder. “Just be careful, doll face. While I appreciate the fact that he’s helped you out of a tight spot, you’re like a sister for me. I can’t lose you.”

  ****

  Sunday morning, Damon sat at his desk, toggling back and forth between the penthouse hallway and the private elevator on his computer screen. He had been here since three this morning. He was a complete mess since he left Brooke in his executive apartment upstairs. If he had installed security inside the suite, he probably would have been watching her, but he wasn’t a creeper. Some lines couldn’t be crossed, no matter how much he wanted to see her. He knew her friend Jennifer had spent the night, but he was anxious for a glimpse of the woman that held him spellbound. Starving like a man without food for days.

  Some would say he was missing Olivia, but that wasn’t the case. She may look like his deceased wife, but Brooke was different. There was a wholesome vulnerability in her. Her amethyst colored eyes shined with worry or fear, but she had strength beyond her years. She was a champion against all odds. Well, she would have to be, considering the in-vitro fertilization mistake—she was a survivor. The woman had had her fair share of heartache, but she had endured. He ached to shelter her and show her life. He wanted to take her traveling and see the world. She may have the ability to operate a hot air balloon, but he wanted to give her the sky. Own the world.

  And clearly he was losing his mind.

  “Ah… nothing like the smell of breaking the law to start the day off right. In fact, I think it’s considered a first-degree felony punishable up to 1 to 4 years in State prison.”

  Damon sighed, hitting the screen saver. He glanced at his assistant, who stood by the door with a disposable coffee cup in one hand and a medium sized box in the other. Still looking perfect in a suit, Antoine’s caramel colored skin gleamed and his dark eyes were glinting with amusement.

  Damon rolled his eyes. “Tell me again, why I hired you?”
Antoine strode closer, handing him the coffee cup and setting the box on his desk.

  “Because no one else could put up with you and still want their job.”

  Damon grunted. “Don’t you mean, ‘keep’ their job?”

  The other man grinned, shaking his head. “I meant exactly what I said.”

  He shrugged, taking a much-needed sip of coffee. He knew it would be exactly how he liked it—one sugar pack and two creamers—it was heaven.

  Eyeing the box, he nodded his head toward the container. “What’s that?”

  Antoine laid his hand on the top. “This is the remnants of Ms. Stone’s apartment after our cleanup crew finished. It’s not much, I’m afraid.”

  He nodded. “And where do we stand with our investigation? Any leads? I haven’t had a chance to speak to Kirk yet,” Damon said, referring to his head of security.

  “With good reason, it’s Sunday,” his assistant said straight-faced, though a smirk edged his lips. When his boss didn’t return his amusement, he said, “The damage to her apartment was quite extensive, but nothing further. The police have reached a dead end, filing their official report, but they have nothing else—no leads. I know Kirk is still running background checks on Ms. Stone’s employees and friends. So far, no one appears to have a motive for the destruction, but we’ll know more first thing in the morning.” He sighed, placing a hand in his pocket. “I emailed you pictures of the damage, as well as spoken with the apartment manager. He said Ms. Stone’s deposit will not cover the restoration—”

  “I’ll cover that, no problem,” Damon said, leaning back in his chair, ignoring the telling sign of disapproval on Antoine’s face. He did not care what he had to do; he was not letting Brooke go, not without a fight. His oldest friend’s dislike was included.

  Antoine leaned closer, his expression serious. “This is getting deep, my friend. Are you sure you want to travel down this rabbit hole?”

  Damon didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. His gaze cooled, his lips firming. He never enjoyed being questioned, but if this had been anyone else, he would have fired him or her on the spot.