The Novel Free

Hard Rules



Flecks of blue glint in his gray eyes, telling me I’ve pleased him, and I am surprised how much this pleases me as well. “Then it’s mutual,” he says, “but actually, there is one agreement I think we should make.”

“Agreement,” I repeat, the word promising me an escape from the dangers of too much intimacy, while I simply feel like a fool. “I don’t need an agreement, Shane. I told you. I understand—”

“Apparently you don’t understand, or you wouldn’t be about to say what you’re about to say.” He leans closer. “Emily. Let me be clear. I want you. And not just in bed.”

“Why?”

“It’s indefinable. It’s just you.”

“But you just said—”

“That we need one agreement. That being, if at any time my brother makes you feel uncomfortable at work tomorrow, you do not stand alone. You text me, call me, or come to my office.”

My relief at how wrong I was comes at me far too intensely for the short time I’ve known this man. “I can handle Derek.”

“You’re strong, but he’s vicious. I know I told you not to come to me at work, but that was before we were outed, and this is now. If you—”

“I will.”

“He will trick you and play with your head.”

“He’s already tried.”

“He’ll try again.”

“He’ll fail.”

“You come to me.” His cell phone buzzes and his gaze flicks to his screen, and he immediately reaches for it. “I need to take this call, but we’re not done talking about Derek, or my father, for that matter.” He stands. “I’ll be right back.”

I nod and track his path across the coffee shop to step outside, obviously not wanting me to hear his conversation. He has secrets too, I realize, but that’s expected. We’ve not known each other long, and he’s trusted me in ways I believe he reserves for few others. And he has no idea the many reasons I have to trust no one, and yet … I want to trust him. But it’s not as simple as that, nor is my secret about trust. It’s about the damage it could do to him. That I could do to him.

Anger at my situation has my hand going into my jacket pocket and grabbing my phone. I check for a message I already know isn’t there before hitting the redial button, grimacing as one ring sends me to voice mail. The line beeps and I say, “This is the last call I’m making. If I don’t hear from you today, I’m out.” I end the call and give myself a mental pat on the back. Let him squirm over the definition of “I’m out.” I’ve just shoved my phone back in my pocket when Shane reappears.

“Jessica got us a viewing of the apartment, but we need to go now. Apparently, the owner still lives there and is out at the moment.”

I stand and grab my coffee while he does the same with his. “How close is it?” I ask.

“Ten minutes in a cab if we can find one,” he says, and we both grab our bagels and toss them in the trash on the way to the door.

Shane hails a cab quickly, and once we’re inside, his hand closes on my leg, and he pulls me closer, aligning our bodies, our legs touching, but already he is glancing at another text message. The next moment, he’s pulling up a video he doesn’t try to hide, watching what appears to be several men in a warehouse, loading boxes on a truck. The instant it’s over, he releases my leg and punches a call button.

“What the hell did I just watch?” he demands of whoever answers the call, and while I can’t hear the conversation, I have a pretty good idea it’s Seth based on what I’ve seen of their interactions.

“You’re sure?” Shane asks, after listening a few beats. “Son of a bitch, this takes everything to a new level. When do you get back?” He listens again, and then, “I want to meet with the security team as well. Tomorrow.” He ends the call, tension crackling off of him, but he contains it, unmoving—every bit of the anger I sense in him well bridled, his control enviable in every way.

Time passes, and still he doesn’t speak or look at me, but his hand comes back down on my leg, silently telling me he’s still right here with me. I reach down and cover his hand with mine, answering with a silent promise that I’m not going anywhere. I’ve never wanted it to mean more.

“I had concerns that one of the companies under our umbrella was a liability,” he says, turning his head in my direction, “and Seth has confirmed I’m correct.”

“Can you fix it?”

“I have to fix it. There’s no other option.”

The cab stops in front of the blue glass building in the center of what seems to be a high-end shopping district. Shane pays the driver and exits first, offering me his hand, and helping me to my feet, allowing me to discover we’re nearly on top of a mall. “I’m no longer objective about this apartment,” I say. “It has me at shopping.”

He laces his fingers with mine. “I’ll bring you back another day and show you around. Unfortunately today, I have some business to attend to.”

“I know your family will be cautious with me now, but I’m still close to your father. Tell me what to be looking for and if I can help I will.”

“Not this time,” he says, draping his arm around my shoulders to put us in motion toward the front door of the building. “I don’t want you anywhere near this problem.”
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