CHAPTER EIGHT
BRETT’S HOME WAS his refuge. And while he’d designed it to his specifications, he didn’t spend nearly enough time there. But even when he was home, he couldn’t exactly turn off work. There was always something to do, something that needed his attention. And with the extra work he’d taken on with the takeover of Daniels International, he had so much more to do.
He sat at his desk, staring at the stacks of paperwork, contracts, bids, all the things he’d let pile up that week, while he had focused on the Daniels International acquisition. He was always so good at multitasking, but Rebecca had thrown him off his focus. He had to get his head on straight. So, every time his phone beeped, the announcement of yet another email that needed his attention, he exhaled and took a gulp of his long-cold coffee, then turned back to his work and tried to focus in quiet.
The quiet was short-lived, however, when his doorbell rang. He looked up, not used to the sound or even having people in his home. He furrowed his eyebrows and considered ignoring it. He didn’t have time for anyone selling magazine subscriptions or passing out religious tracts, so he tried to go back to his work. But the bell rang again.
Frustrated, his patience tested, he threw down the contract he was studying and stood. He stomped down the stairs to his front door and pulled back the door. “What?” he yelled before seeing who was standing on the other side. But seeing Rebecca outside his door did nothing to ease his tension.
He looked at her. He was tired, and just one look at her made him want her, and he didn’t have the energy to fight the desire. He cursed his own lack of control. “What are you doing here?”
She looked him dead in the eye. “We need to talk. And actually talk this time.”
“I don’t think we do.”
“Come on, Brett. Too afraid to have a conversation?” she challenged.
“Not afraid, just not interested. I don’t think we have anything to discuss.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Rebecca sighed. “Just let me in.”
Brett stepped aside, and she pushed past him. “What do you want to discuss?”
“I had brunch with Alana today.”
“Okay.”
“And it might have just been talking it out with another woman or the bottomless mimosas, but I’m so sick of this, Brett.” She stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Rebecca Daniels.”
Brett looked at her hand. “What are you doing?”
She didn’t waver under his stare. The one that made powerful men cower. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said.
“Rebecca.” He sighed. “I’m too tired for this.”
“So am I. Since day one we’ve hated each other, we were a threat to one another. But we’re adults now, and we’re still playing the same games for power and dominance. Brett, we need to start over before someone gets hurt.”
“It’s too late for that.”
“I don’t think it is. Why don’t we just forget the past, forget all the ways we’ve screwed each other over?”
“I’m not pulling back from the buyout. I’ve got my own partners and shareholders to think about.”
“I know you won’t be. And I wouldn’t expect you to. In regard to the takeover, why don’t we just see where that goes and let the better company win?”
Rebecca still stood in front of him with her hand extended. She was right of course. He knew that he didn’t have time for games anymore. There wasn’t enough time or energy for him to do everything he wanted, and if he could put whatever was happening between him and Rebecca in its own little box, it would make his life a lot easier. He would own her company by the end of the week of course, but it didn’t mean that they couldn’t be civil until then. Something in him let go, and he smiled down at her. He took her hand in his and shook. “Hi, I’m Brett.”
“So we can forget about all the crap and just be regular people and leave all of the takeover stuff in the boardroom?”
“I’d like that.”
He cupped his palm over her shoulder, her delicate skin left exposed by her sleeveless blouse. He dragged his hand downward, sliding over her skin. He could feel her muscles flex and tense under his touch. He couldn’t help but think that things could have easily been different with Rebecca. “I’m sorry it’s worked out like this.”
“Me, too.”
“I was just about to make some dinner. Why don’t you stay and join me? You know, to make up for the one we didn’t eat the other night?”
Her breath was a shudder as the air left her body. And he grinned at her, taking another step closer so that they were only a whisper apart, her breasts pressed against his chest.
“I should leave.”
He ducked his head and skimmed his lips over the outer shell of her ear. “Yeah, probably. But you won’t.”
She blinked, and he knew from experience that her restraint was wire thin. Just like his. She blinked and looked around his home, and he knew it was to distract herself, to not relent to him.
“This is a pretty nice place,” she managed to say before he couldn’t take it any longer and his lips slammed down on hers. He walked her back until she was pressed into the wall, trapped between it and his chest. He wrapped her delicate wrists in his hands and pushed to the wall, above her head.
“I’ll give you the tour later,” he said against her lips before taking them again. Her lips parted and he took great advantage, plunging his tongue inside her mouth. It found hers and twined with it, stroking, tasting. Her flavor was one that he’d deprived himself of for over five years, and in the past few days, he’d drank from her like a man who’d survived a drought. He might have control over his past dependence on drugs and alcohol, but it was Rebecca who was his addiction, and he would always need his fix. If he’d learned anything, it was that there was no rehab for that.
He took her hand and practically dragged her up the stairs to his bedroom. He couldn’t wait another second. They stood at the foot of his king-size bed, kissing, tearing, ripping at each other’s clothing. She lifted his shirt, and he pulled away only long enough to pull it over his head and throw it behind him. He reached around her and, finding the zipper at the back of her blouse, he pulled it down. It snagged briefly on the material, and he yanked it impatiently, pulling it too hard. He felt the fabric tear. He’d have to buy her a new top in the morning. He would buy her a thousand blouses or keep her in his home naked. He didn’t care. He let the ruined fabric fall to the floor with a light swoosh, and she pulled down her skirt and stood before him in her bra and panties.
He stood back a little, to get a look at her. “Christ, Rebecca,” he muttered. “You’re so fucking beautiful. There are so many things I want to do with you. The last two times, it wasn’t close to enough.” He shook his head. “I have no idea where to start.”
She reached back and unclasped her bra and let the lacy material fall to the floor. “Start here.”