Chapter
SIX
Curses blistered through Warren’s brain. He ran faster, his breath burning his lungs. Sweat dripped down his back. He charged up the hill toward his house, ignoring the pain in his muscles. He ran the steps up to the redwood deck and came to a slow halt and checking the time on his watch. Thirteen seconds faster than yesterday’s run. He pulled the fifty-pound backpack off and dragged in a few breaths.
The dizziness hit him like a brick. He grabbed the deck railing. The world spun for a few seconds before grinding to a stop. He straightened slowly, smothering the unease spreading through his chest.
He’d never had vertigo before, not even on the smaller-scale climbs he’d done over the past year in preparation for the Matterhorn. But three months ago he’d started having dizzy spells and a strange pressure in his ears that wasn’t related to an infection or even a common cold. He leaned his forearms on the railing and closed his eyes.
He’d always been into physical fitness, but over the past year he’d taken it to a whole new level in preparation for the climb. Four times a week, he met the others at the gym for strength training, and every day he did some form of cardio and endurance work. They’d also been stepping up their local climbs, hiking to higher elevations with heavier packs.
He went into the kitchen and downed a glass of water. In the morning, he ran the hills and valleys of his estate, knowing he needed more training than the younger guys to keep up. He was in better condition now than he’d been his whole life, but he was the oldest guy of the group. Aside from occasional digs, the other guys respected both him and his seniority, which only fueled his determination to lead the grueling climb. And not let a little dizziness get in his way.
He headed upstairs to shower, the hot water and start of his daily routine shifting his mind back to his retirement. A little over a week until Christmas. Then he’d leave for the climb, which he’d purposely planned to give his sons complete authority over Sugar Rush. If he wasn’t available, they’d have to restructure and start working without him.
Whether or not they wanted to.
He dressed and checked his phone, trying not to be irritated by Julia’s lack of response to his calls and texts. She’d been ignoring him way too much lately. Maybe that was what had pushed him over the edge.
He got into his car and drove to the Sugar Rush campus. He didn’t often feel badly about his actions. He tried to live and act with integrity, to be a good role model for his children, to treat women well. In fact, the last time he’d felt such sharp regret and guilt had been years ago… with Julia.
Except this time it was magnified tenfold. He’d been unable to stop touching her, his desire reaching a fevered breaking point. It had felt like years of pent-up lust had suddenly exploded. He could have fucked her for hours, not wanting to leave the soft tight grip of her body. In the hours since their encounter, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her sweet, warm taste, the sound of her moans, the vibrations rippling through her.
But despite the explosive heat, her multiple orgasms, her unmistakable response, she still thought it had been a mistake. Like their kiss from thirty years ago, but cranked up a thousand degrees.
He hated the idea that she would connect the two events in her head, as if what had happened then had any impact on what had happened now.
Unless it had.
He shook his head. An image of Rebecca emerged in his mind, followed by the usual ache of sorrow. She’d never seemed to twist questions and mistakes around, trying to look at them from all angles and come up with answers. Not for the first time, he wished he had her certainty.
He straightened his lollipop-pattered tie and strode toward the main office of the Sugar Rush campus—a sprawling complex of buildings nestled in the hills overlooking the ocean. He nodded greetings at several employees as they crossed the curving, flagstone pathways and manicured gardens between the buildings. He was immensely proud to be a member of the Stone family, to have been born into the legacy of Sugar Rush, but he was ready to leave the company to others and their visions of the future.
He took the stairs to the seventh floor. Luke’s new executive assistant, Anne, wasn’t at her desk, but the office door was half-open. Warren knocked and entered. Luke was at the seating area, the company’s end-of-the-year reports spread on the table.
Luke motioned him over. “Hey, Dad. Have a seat.”
Warren sat beside his son, and they spent an hour reviewing the reports and discussing points to bring up at the next board meeting. When they were finished, Luke stacked the files and glanced at him.
“Have you rethought retirement yet?”
Warren’s insides twisted. He needed to get Luke on his side about this. If his eldest son supported him, the other boys would follow his lead, and the transition would be smooth.
“No,” he said. “I don’t plan to, either.”
Luke’s forehead creased with a scowl. Warren tried not to smile. Even now, he still saw the boy in his sons—as rough-and-tumble and rebellious as they were smart, kind, and energetic. As the eldest, Luke had always been the protector, especially of Evan. It hadn’t been a surprise that he’d felt the same way about the family company.
Warren’s soft spot for Luke lay in the fact that the boy was his first-born, the heir to the throne. Luke was both the reason Warren had become a parent, and he was the son who’d taught him how to be a father. He’d made mistakes with Luke that he’d been able to correct for his other children. And since he’d been so young when Rebecca got pregnant, in some ways he and Luke had grown up together. Warren had become an adult because of Luke.
It hadn’t been the same for Rebecca. She’d already been an adult, easing into motherhood and marriage as if she’d simply stepped into her life’s role. Warren hadn’t found the transition nearly as easy, but he’d worked hard to do right by his family. He only needed to look at his children to know he’d succeeded.
“You knew I’d retire eventually,” he told Luke.
“Not so soon.” Luke rubbed his jaw, still frowning. “And not when we’re expanding and launching new projects. Alpine Chocolates, the Corporate Social Responsibility Division, the Cocoa Bean Team… plus all the new packing technologies, the work Spencer is doing with flavenols and product blending… Sugar Rush is right at the edge of becoming a global leader in sustainability and innovation. How can you leave right now?”
“Son, I’m not abandoning Sugar Rush,” Warren said, “Or you. The company will always face new challenges and technologies. As it should. And you and your brothers will continue to steer the ship on the right course with your strong leadership. I have nothing but faith and trust in you. That’s how I can leave right now.”
He rose to his feet. “I’ve asked Mary to leave room on the meeting agenda so I can make the announcement. You should have a preliminary list of potential successors on hand. Don’t give the board a chance to think too much about their own choices. You be first.”
Luke didn’t respond, but the creases on his forehead deepened. Again Warren ignored a pang of regret as he started toward the office door. All of his children had to find their own way at some point, just like he had.
He pulled open the door and stopped in his tracks. His heart crashed against his ribs. Dressed in a pale blue linen sheath that skimmed her figure like water, Julia stood in front of the executive assistant’s desk in all her imperious glory, her hands on her hips and her eyebrows arched. With her Grace Kelly features and her sleek blonde hair glowing like honey, she was a vision of flawless, elegant beauty.
But Warren’s mind flashed back to the disheveled, eager woman she’d been last night. The woman who’d writhed underneath him, dug her manicured fingernails into his back, convulsed around his cock as if she could have milked him dry. He’d wanted to turn her over, spank her pretty ass, drive into her from behind.
Hell. He wanted to do that to her right now. Mess up her hair. Tear off her dress. Rip off her stockings. Make her moan and beg and—
His cock twitched. He took a breath, willing himself to calm down. He was at work. He needed to get his shit together. Focus.
“It’s quite simple,” Julia was telling Anne, her tone arctic. “Luke needs to review the Sugar Rush charity schedule before we send it out to all employees. Would you distribute the board meeting agenda without his approval?”
Anne, who was powerfully capable and efficient, opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut when Julia leaned closer. Though Warren was used to intervening in Julia’s ice storms without undermining her authority, he was having trouble smothering his instantaneous lust.
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Julia continued frostily, her blue eyes narrowing on Anne like lasers. “Because that’s Executive Assistantship For Dummies, isn’t it? As is the fact that we announce the Sugar Rush holiday party after we’ve finalized the arrangements. So I strongly suggest you surgically excise your head from your—”
“Julia.” Warren moved swiftly forward.
She startled at the sound of his voice, but recovered quickly and shot him a glare dripping with icicles. Anne stood, her expression flashing with relief over his interruption.
“Sir, I didn’t realize you were in Luke’s office,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t offer to see if you need anything.”
“What he needs is for the executive assistants in this company to stop acting like deer caught in the headlights,” Julia said crisply. “Luke seems to think you’re a competent adult, but I have my doubts.”
“She’ll take care of it,” Warren said, his tone hardening. “Anne came with excellent credentials and recommendations.” He glanced at the younger woman. “But you need to review the company procedures. In detail.”
“Of course, sir.”
“You never know when there might be a pop quiz.” Julia swiveled on her stiletto heel and strode away.
“She’s like that with everyone,” Warren assured Anne. “You’ll get used to her.”
“Like I’ll get used to a snake bite?” Anne sank back onto her chair with a groan.
Warren almost smiled in sympathy. All the Sugar Rush employees were accustomed to Julia’s wicked-queen ways because they knew she was usually right, but everyone was still scared of her—the newer hires most of all.
“Luke has only good things to say about you,” he told Anne. “And that’s far more important than the company party.”
She nodded in gratitude. Warren made a mental note to send her a gift box of Sugar Rush chocolates, then headed after Julia. She walked like she expected people to bow at her passing, her spine straight and her hair shifting like spun gold. No one would dare to imagine Julia Bennett with messy hair and kiss-stained lips, writhing and gasping beneath him…
A mixture of possessiveness and irritation filled his chest. He stepped beside her, matching his longer stride to hers.
“God, I miss Kate.” Julia didn’t glance at him or break her pace. “Of course, I’m delighted that she’s able to use all her talents in her new position and improve Sugar Rush’s social responsibility, et cetera. But as Luke’s assistant, that girl never missed a beat. Except in her choice of clothing, so we can all thank the good lord I corrected that misfortune.”
She paused at the top of the stairs and turned to face him, her expression cool and remote. “Kate is still handling the sign-ups for the soup kitchen. Did you get her email?”
“Yes. Now step into my office.”
Julia blinked at his hard tone, her gaze shifting to his closed office door. “I beg your pardon?”
Warren opened the door. “In. Now.”
Her features tightened with resistance just as the elevator doors opened and several employees emerged, their voices rising in chatter. Julia crossed the hallway in front of them, her shoulders rigid. He caught a whiff of Chanel No. 5 as she passed him.
He entered the office behind her and closed the door, flicking the lock shut.
“You are not to take out personal crap on my employees,” he said. “That’s not how I run this company.”
Julia’s lips compressed. “Odd that you’ve never before questioned my treatment of your employees. And it wasn’t personal. She needed to know she’d screwed up.”
“Announcing the holiday party early is not screwing up,” Warren replied evenly. “You’re pissed off because you’ve had a shitty week, you have too much on your plate, an old bucket list has thrown you off your game, and you don’t know what to do with the fact that we fucked the other night.”
Two spots of color appeared on her cheeks. “I seem to recall that what I did with that fact was tell you it wasn’t going to happen again. After which you informed me in excellent caveman style that I was wrong. You seem to forget I’m never wrong.”
About this, you are.
He bit back the words. He hadn’t become the president of Sugar Rush by throwing his weight around. He knew how to bide his time, work his way into getting what he wanted. And damned if he didn’t want her more with every passing second.
“Well?” Julia put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Are we done here?”
Under her make-up, purplish smudges shadowed her eyes. Brackets of tension lined her mouth. His jaw tightened.
“You had a migraine yesterday,” he said.
“What the fuck do you care?” Julia snapped.
Warren’s hands flexed. He was used to her quick-fire cursing, all the more effective when delivered by a woman who looked like royalty, but he didn’t like being the recipient of her wrath.
“I’m putting Mia Donovan in charge of the Sugar Rush holiday party,” he said.
“You’re firing me?” Julia stared at him, her eyes widening. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” He steeled himself against her shock and the knowledge that he was hurting her. “You’ve planned it for the past ten years, and it’s time to hand it over to someone else.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“Yes, I do. Sugar Rush is my company. This is also the event where I’ll be announcing my retirement. You’re not going to plan it.”
“Because I have too much on my plate?” Julia stopped in front of the windows, her arms crossed and her fiery gaze fixed on him. “Thanks for your concern, Daddy, but I assure you I can handle everything I take on.”
“That’s why you’re such a success. It’s also why your headaches are getting worse.”
“You are not my fucking doctor.”
“Stop swearing.”
She barked out a laugh. “You need to rethink this retirement thing, Warren. It’s making you soft.”
Given the state of his dick, he was anything but soft.
“If you won’t delegate your projects, I will,” he said.
“Because you can’t stop being the boss, even if you think otherwise.” Julia paced angrily to the desk, her eyes flaring with blue ice. “Why are you retiring, Warren? Everyone knows you’re the power behind the throne, much as you’ve let the boys take all the glory. Three months—hell, one month from now when you have nothing to do and no one to order around, you’re going to wonder why you made such a bad decision.”
Warren’s jaw clenched. He was sick of getting pushback from all sides. “I’ve been in business my entire life. I know what I’m doing.”
“So do I, dammit,” Julia retorted. “I don’t need you looking out for me.”
“I will always look out for you.”
She came to a halt, her whole body stilling. By contrast, Warren’s heartbeat kicked up, sudden heat flooding his veins. Their gazes met across the room, a crackling electric current firing through the air.
Julia took a breath, her breasts heaving beneath her jacket.
“Goddamn you, Warren Stone,” she whispered.
“I told you to stop swearing.” He advanced, his own breath increasing, his hands fisting and unfisting at his sides.
Rebellion tightened her features. “And if I don’t?”
“You sure you want to find out?”
He closed the distance between them, his lust flaring like a match to dry leaves.
What the fuck was going on with them?
The question flared like a comet through his mind and died just as fast—because he didn’t care about the answer. His mind was consumed with the thought of tasting her red lips again, sweet like cherries, spicy like peppers. Her mouth could deliver an insult as sharp and searing as a blade, but he knew—had always known, even if he’d smothered the knowledge—that the sounds issuing from Julia Bennett’s mouth could also be smooth, hot murmurs of lust that rushed straight to his blood. Weakening him of all thought, all control, inciting him with the urge to—
He grabbed her shoulders, hauling her soft, slender body against him. He’d always loved the contrast of Julia, the sharp-tongued, acidic queen and the relentlessly devoted aunt. The rigorous boss who shot orders like arrows, and the loyal friend who bought Hailey’s favorite peanut butter, sent care packages to Gavin Knight when he was deployed in Iraq, spent hours on end with Evan at the hospital.
He stared down at her fine features, pale skin, and wide blue eyes that he’d seen almost every day of his life for the past thirteen years—and suddenly now it felt as if he were looking at her for the first time. Had he never noticed that tiny birthmark right beneath her left eye? Or the silver flecks in her irises, like falling snow? Or the perfect curve in her upper lip, tempting him to put his tongue there and—
Oh, he’d noticed all right. He’d just tried to pretend he hadn’t.
“What the hell am I going to do with you, Julia?” he muttered.
“Fire me, apparently.” Her tone was bitter, her eyes blue fire.
Her gaze flickered involuntarily to his mouth, her lips parting. He slipped his hand beneath her chin, lifting her face to his. His heart jackhammered. Her breath brushed against his mouth, the familiar scent of her—Chanel No. 5, lavender soap, pure Julia—suddenly exotic and tantalizing.
“I’m going to let you go,” he said slowly, “and take two steps back. I want you to reach under your skirt and take your underwear off… if you’re wearing any.”
Her breath caught, her eyes widening with shock. “Are you fu…”
“No. I am not fucking kidding you.”
He released her and stepped back. His dick pushed against his fly. His blood boiled with lust. Julia stared at him, her hair tousled and her breath still fast. She curled her hands on the edge of his desk. Tension stretched between them, thick and hot, crackling with a challenge.
“Your move,” Warren said.
She breathed out a curse. He saw the instant her defiance snapped in two. She lowered her head and bent to the hem of her skirt. Instead of reaching under it like he’d instructed, she grasped the hem and tugged it up her legs to reveal her long, stocking-clad legs.
Warren’s mouth twitched with a smile. Of course his Julia wouldn’t just obey without trying to subvert his authority. She wouldn’t succeed, but he loved watching her try.
She wiggled her skirt all the way up to her hips, showing him that her silk stockings were attached to black garters over lacy black panties. His breathing increased, his pulse pounding. She met his gaze briefly, eyes darkened with lust, before she unsnapped the garters and peeled her panties off.
“Put them on my desk,” he said.
She did. Her hand trembled.
“Come here,” Warren ordered.
She approached and stopped in front of him. He rested his hands on either side of her neck just below her jaw. Her lips parted. He kissed her.
Cherries and spice exploded through him, firing heat into his blood. His dick stiffened further, pressing against her soft belly. Julia moaned into his mouth, her body lacing with erotic tension. His mind emptied of thought, all of his senses centering on the feel and taste of her. She parted her lips, let him inside, and drew her tongue across his with an eagerness she couldn’t hide.
Ah, fuck, yeah. His Julia was straight fire underneath her ice-queen façade. Burning heat and lust. If he touched her pussy, he’d find her already wet and ready for him. He’d sink into her with no resistance at all, slow at first to make her beg for more, then faster until he was slamming into her and driving them both to orgasm.
“Did I win that move?” she breathed.
“We both did.”
She slid one hand to the back of his neck, her curves shaping to the hard planes of his chest as if she’d been made to fit against him. He deepened the kiss, swept his tongue through her mouth, bit down gently on her lower lip. She pulled at his tie, a sudden frenzy lighting her eyes. When she yanked at his shirt front, the buttons popped off and clattered to the floor. He crushed his mouth down on hers again. He slid his hands down to cup her ass, dipping his fingers between her smooth thighs. Her damp heat turned his blood nuclear. He tore at her stockings, ripping the silk.
Julia pulled her head away from him. “Those are hand-crafted French silk stockings from—”
“I’ll buy you a hundred more.” He backed her toward the desk, the smoldering heat in his blood rising into a firestorm. “But first you have to spread your pretty legs and take my cock in as deep as you can.”
A visible shudder rippled through her. “God, Warren.”
Her ass hit the desk. She curled her fingers into the lapels of his suit jacket. He grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the desk, pushing between her thighs. Her skirt rode up to her waist. She parted her legs. He ran his finger over her pussy to her clit. His pulse throbbed.
“Hungry girl,” he murmured.
“Jesus.” She closed her eyes, a hot flush rising to her cheeks. “What are you doing to me?”
“What I should have done years ago.” He edged his finger down and circled her tight little hole. Julia moaned, her muscles tensing and her thighs trembling around his hips. He pushed into her slit, his breath escaping as her pussy closed tight around his finger.
“You want my cock here?” He worked his finger back and forth.
“Yes.” She rubbed the front of his trousers, cupping his hard dick. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the other night, about what it felt like to have you inside me…”
“Turn around.”
She lifted startled eyes to his. “I don’t…”
“Turn around.”
She hesitated. Just like he suspected she would. She was used to giving orders, not taking them. And he was used to being obeyed. Their gazes met, a brief hot battle of wills. She broke first, her eyes lowering and her flush deepening.
She eased off the desk and turned. Satisfaction flooded him. He grasped her skirt and pulled it up over her hips, his heart hammering at the sight of her perfect ass upturned and naked. He put his hand on her lower back, pressing her onto the desk.
Julia made a low noise in the back of her throat, closing her eyes as she rested her cheek on the desk’s surface. He unfastened her garter belt and tossed it to the floor. Then he stepped back and admired the sight of her—this gorgeous, regal woman bent submissively over a desk with her naked ass jutting upward in invitation. Her shapely, long legs balanced on her strapped stilettos, and her manicured fingers clenched and unclenched on the edge of the desk.
She was perfect. So fucking perfect that he couldn’t fathom how he’d managed to restrain himself from touching her all these years.
He unbuckled his belt and pulled it off, then yanked his trousers and boxer briefs down. His cock jutted outward, so hard it ached. He grabbed the shaft and stroked a few times, his gaze locked on her tempting cleft. He moved forward, pressing his knee between her thighs to spread them wider.
“Open,” he ordered.
She squeezed her eyes shut, her lips parted and her chest heaving with the force of her breath. She was still fully clothed from the waist up, and though he burned to see her naked again, he needed to be inside her right now. He ran his hands over her ass, her skin soft and velvety under his palms. He drew his finger slowly down the cleft between her cheeks, pausing at the tight little ring of her anus. A gentle probe with his finger caused her to gasp, her body stiffening.
“Warren.”
A hard shiver rocked through her. He moved his hands to her pussy, running his finger over her folds, circling her swollen clit. She gasped, wiggling her hips like she wanted more. She was the most responsive woman he’d ever been with, reacting with hot little moans and writhings to his every touch. He took her wrists and pulled her arms back, settling her hands on her rear.
“Hold yourself open for me,” he said.
A deep flush swept over her skin. She put her trembling hands on the lower part of her ass and spread herself nice and wide. He eased the head of his cock over her slippery folds, intense pleasure ricocheting through him as he positioned himself at her slit. With a groan, he drove forward, sinking so deep into her tight heat that her body jerked forward. Julia cried out, her back arching as if she were offering herself to him.
“Oh my god, Warren, yes,” she gasped. “Harder… ah, I feel you so deep…”
Her voice melted into incoherent moans. Warren moved her hands away so he could grip her ass himself, increasing the pace of his drive. Fuck, but she was perfect, taking every heavy thrust with a cry of pleasure, her body clenching around his shaft, her legs spread wide. Tension coiled through his body. Sweat dripped down his back. His blood was on fire, the explosion building with intense pressure.
Deeper, deeper, his pelvis hitting her bouncing ass, her body jostling back and forth. Some dim part of his mind thought he might be hurting her, but when she twisted to look at him again, nothing but urgency and desperation shone in her expression.
“Warren.” Her voice was strained taut as wire.
He slowed the pace of his thrusts and found her quivering clit.
“Poor baby,” he murmured. “Do you want to come?”
“No, I want to dance the tango.” Julia arched her back, thrusting herself toward him. “What the hell do you think?”
He smiled. He flicked his fingers over her clit and rubbed.
“I’m so close,” she gasped. “Harder… just like that… oh yes.”
She cried out, her body convulsing and vibrating with the force of her orgasm. Warren stroked her until she’d crested the wave and was sliding down the other side. He plunged into her again, back and forth, his own urgency building and building…
“Fuck.”
With a growl, he pulled out of her and fisted his cock, stroking twice before shooting all over her trembling ass. Pleasure ripped through him, the explosion painting her skin with a spray of his seed. Marking her.
He dragged in a breath and rested his palm on her lower back. Trembles coursed through her in unending waves, and her whole body heaved with the force of her breath. He lowered himself over her, pressing his face into her neck. She lifted a hand and speared it through his hair, her fingers gripping the strands for an instant before she slid her palm over his jaw.
He pushed to his feet, tugging up his boxers and trousers. He went into his private bathroom and dampened a cloth with hot water to clean her up. When he returned to the office, Julia was seated in a chair, pulling off her torn stockings. Though she wasn’t in full Ice Queen mode yet, it was creeping up on her, like frost collecting on the edges of a windowpane.
He handed her the cloth and returned to the bathroom, giving her a chance to get herself together. When he returned, she was fully dressed—the only evidence of their encounter her wrinkled clothes and flushed cheeks.
“This can’t happen again,” she said.
He frowned. “Why not?”
“Why not?” She shook her head in astonishment. “Because there’s a reason we haven’t done this before. We both knew it would be a terrible idea, a mistake that could ruin everything.”
Irritation ripped through him. “Who the fuck ever said it would be a terrible idea? Or a mistake?”
“We didn’t have to say it.” Julia’s eyes flashed with responding annoyance. “We both knew. Why else would we have kept things platonic for so long? Because our relationship is about your children and keeping this family strong and solid. It’s about Sugar Rush, Rebecca’s memory, and the Stone reputation. What would people think if they found out Warren Stone had hooked up with his late wife’s sister?”
“I don’t care what they’d think,” he said. “I don’t owe anyone explanations about anything. And yeah, we could spent a shitload of energy feeling guilty about Rebecca, but the fact is that she’s been gone for almost fourteen years and nothing you and I do together is a betrayal of her. Just the opposite. Everything you’ve done for the Rebecca Stone Foundation, for her children, has honored her. And I’ve got news for you, Jules.”
He approached, determined to make her see the truth. She stepped away and brought a hand up between them. Wariness shone in her eyes.
“Our relationship has always been about a hell of a lot more than just the kids and Sugar Rush.” Warren took hold of her upper arms, digging his fingers into her soft skin. “It’s been about us. As friends, partners, confidantes. Why not lovers too?”
Her throat worked with a swallow. “What… what would the boys and Hailey think if they knew…”
“I don’t care what they’d think,” he repeated. “We’ve done everything we could possibly do for them. I don’t need their approval to be with you.”
Julia’s teeth came down on her lower lip. “You do, you know. Because what if they don’t like me stepping into the space where their mother once was? What would you do then?”
He expelled a frustrated breath. “I’d tell them to mind their own business.”
“And that would be good enough?” She shook her head again. “Not to mention, the majority of your employees knew and loved Rebecca. Hell, we’ve all but deified her with the Rebecca Stone Foundation and all the good works we’ve done in her name. Don’t you think people will… react if they find out we’ve suddenly started an affair?”
“There is nothing sudden about this,” Warren retorted. “If anyone reacts, they’re more than likely to say, ‘Well, it’s about fucking time.’”
“And if they don’t?”
“I’ll take that risk.”
“Maybe you will.” She strode to the door, her spine stiff. “But I won’t.”
“Julia, get back here,” he snapped.
“Sorry, boss.” She threw him a cold glance over her shoulder. “Game over.”
No. This game was just beginning.