Ryland so pissed off before. The crowd parted for him like the Red Sea, probably petrified by his furious expression.
“Slow down,” I gritted.
Ryland didn't say a word or slow down as he strode to an employee-only door at the back of the club. He stabbed a code into the security keypad and shoved the door open to reveal a stairwell. There were two off-duty waiters smoking inside, and they stared at us with matching looks of surprise.
“Out,” Ryland clipped, and they beat it without question.
“What's wrong with you?” I demanded. “You can't just barge in here whenever you like!”
“I have a fifteen percent share of this place,” he said coldly, “so yes, I can barge in here whenever I fucking like.”
“That still doesn't give you any right to drag me from my friends!”
“Was that who that prick was? A friend? Because he was staring at you like he wanted to screw you right on the damned floor.”
“And so what if he did?” I threw back hotly. “Maybe I wanted him to.”
“Shit, is that what this is about?” Ryland stared at me, his brows drawn together. “You came here to make me jealous?”
“I didn't,” I protested, even though he was partially right.
I had come here hoping to bump into him.
And then I'd danced with other men hoping that he'd see.
Ryland paced the short length of the stairwell, looking absolutely pissed-off.
He was no longer the cool, controlled man I had first met at the art exhibition. His eyes were wild now, and his hair was disheveled from running his hands through them.
“What does it matter to you anyway?” I blurted. “You're not my boyfriend. We're not even friends! We're just…” I floundered for the right words. “We're nothing.”
Ryland's face darkened. “We're not nothing.”
“Then what you said earlier about being my boyfriend. Was that true?”
He stared at me silently, the muscle in his jaw ticking.
“I thought so,” I said, steeling myself against the unexpected disappointment. “You don't want this toy, but no one else can have it either. That's all this is.”
“You're not a toy, and for the last time, Allie. I. Want. You.”
“But you also don't want anything more than a fling,” I threw back. “It's just lust, and like you said, lust fades.”
“I want more, okay?” Ryland finally snapped. “For the first fucking time in my life, I want more with a woman. With you.”
I blinked as Ryland glared at me, his expression bleak and furious.
“I want this as much as you do, Allie cat,” he growled, “but it doesn't matter. At the end of the day, I can't give you the commitment you want. There are things that I did in the past that you won't like.”
I latched onto his words with stupid hope.
“Everyone has things they're not proud of,” I began.
Ryland was shaking his head even before I was done. “This is on a whole other level. You cannot even begin to imagine. And it's not just in the past. Even now there are things I'm doing that aren't pretty.” His jaw tightened. “I know last night meant something to you, but guess what? I took you up to the greenhouse for my own agenda. It wasn’t just because I wanted to be alone with you.”
I paled. “What do you mean?”
Ryland stabbed a hand into his disheveled hair, looking trapped. “There was a guy attending the gala, the CEO of a boutique realty. He’s holding a property that's undervalued. I want that land, so I pulled some strings and found out that his firm owes a large debt to Lancaster Hoteliers.”
A soundless breath escaped me. “You got Cam to press them for payments, so they would have no choice but to sell the land to you to raise funds.”
Ryland’s ice-blue gaze burned into mine. “And I had to leave the ballroom so the guy wouldn't spook or get the idea that Cam and I were working together. It wasn't about taking you to some pretty place just to see you smile, Allie. Everything I do is calculated. Everything.”
My heart twisted painfully in my chest. Had everything been a lie?
“Then last night, what we did,” I swallowed, “was that part of your plan too? Did you get me up there to…”
Ryland watched me, his throat working.
“Yes,” he finally said. “I got you up there planning to fuck you.”
I blinked at his brutal honesty.
“I want you,” Ryland said bluntly, “and everything I do is geared towards having you. I can’t lie about that. And I'm not gonna apologize for it.”
“But even so, you can't commit.”
Ryland spread his hands, his fingers straight with tension. “Allie, I have a shitload of skeletons in my closet, and I don't want you there when they come out. And before you think I'm protecting you, I'm not. I'm protecting myself. I won’t have you walking away from me when you decide you're done. I’m the one who’ll get tired of you, not the other way round.”
My brows snapped together.
He was so selfish. So flawed. As ugly on the inside as he was beautiful on the outside.
So why was I still here?
“Tell me,” I said. “All the skeletons—I want to know about every single one of them.”
Ryland’s expression looked haunted. “No,” he rasped.
I reached up and touched his jaw, and he turned his cheek into my hand as if by instinct.
“I want to know,” I said quietly.
I held still as I waited for Ryland to come to his decision.
Then finally, he set his jaw with a furious gleam in his eyes.
“I do you one better,” he growled. “I’ll show you.”
He took my hand in a tight grip and led me back to the club.
My heart pounded in my throat as I went with him, and I hoped I wasn't making the wrong decision.
Ryland was tense as he led me up the grand stairs to the second level of the club where the private rooms were.
I knew he was taking me to his meeting with Marlon da Silva. What I couldn't tell was how this was going to end.
I already knew how single-minded Ryland could get when he wanted something, and his revelation about the deal he had with Cam didn’t help either. I had no doubt that what he was about to show me would be ugly.
Were bribes going to be exchanged?
Drugs?
Something else that was illegal?
I looked up at Ryland worriedly, but he kept his gaze firmly ahead. The muscles at his neck seemed to tighten with every step we took.
Ryland stopped a short distance from the first door we came to. It was marked VIP and was flanked by two large, suited men standing guard.
He paused for a long moment, and I sensed that he was debating whether or not to go ahead with this.
Finally, he looked at me with a grim expression.
“Once we're in there, follow my lead. If Marlon asks you any questions, answer, but don't make the mistake of letting him lead you into conversation or dropping your guard. That man latches on to info like a dog with a bone.”
I nodded uncertainly. “I thought he was a socialite.”
“Gabriel is a socialite. This guy just pretends to be one. It makes people underestimate him, which is what he wants, so whatever you do, don't.”
“Okay, I'll be careful.” I twisted my fingers nervously. “But...what does this have to do with what you told me?”
Ryland's expression darkened. “You'll see. Knowing Marlon, he won't take long to pull out his party tricks.”
I followed as Ryland strode past the guards who stepped aside for him. He grasped the handle of the door and pushed into the room.
The sizeable private room was dimly lit with ambient lighting and furnished with leather sofas, love seats, a karaoke system and a bar at the back.
It could fit twenty people comfortably, though there were only five people in the room—two more guards inside by the door, two beautiful, curvaceous brunettes dressed in tight bralettes and skirts on the sofa, and between them, a shockingly attractive guy in a rumpled dress shirt and grey slacks.
I blinked in surprise.
From Ryland's description of Marlon da Silva, I had imagined him to be an older businessman, but the guy lounging with his arms around either girl beside him looked even younger than Ryland.
He had a riot of dark curls, and his irreverent grin reminded me of Gabriel, with his teeth startlingly bright against his olive skin. A diamond stud twinkled in his right ear, and his crinkled white shirt was open nearly to the waist, revealing muscled pecs lightly dusted with hair, and below that, a chiseled six pack.
In short, Marlon da Silva looked more like a playboy than a businessman, let alone one who ran a successful high-end club like the one we were in.
“Wyatt.” Marlon got up and strolled over to us, his arms thrown out in welcome. “Good to see you again.”
“da Silva,” Ryland grinned, the tension that I saw on his face earlier vanishing like smoke.
He did miss his calling in acting.
The guys went for a masculine hug, thumping the other once on the back before releasing their grips.
Then Ryland nodded his chin at me. “This is my new PA, Allie Beckett. She’s here to observe.”
“Olá.” Marlon took my hand, pressing a fleeting kiss to my knuckles. A flirtatious smile played on his lips, though his hazel green eyes studied me closely. “Beckett, you said? That name sounds familiar.”
Ryland's cool smile didn't waver. “It's a common last name here.”
I forced myself to hold Marlon's watchful gaze as he released my hand. While his smile was open and friendly, I didn't miss the alertness in his expression.
Ryland had been right—Marlon might look and play the part of an indolent rajah, but he wasn't one.
And if he didn't already know how Beckett Construction had been tied to Wyatt Corp in the past, he would find out before the night was over. I had no doubt about that.
I managed a polite smile nonetheless. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Pleasure's all mine.” Marlon rejoined the two women on the sofa. “These are my girls, Frieda and Lola. And as always, drinks on me. What are you having?”
On cue, one of the girls got up and headed to the dry bar at the back of the room.
“Whiskey, neat,” Ryland said as we took the sofa across Marlon. He turned to me. “You?”
“Water for me, thank you.”
“No no, none of that shit,” Marlon cut in. “You are having a drink.”
“Allie is here for work,” Ryland said smoothly, but it was impossible to miss the steel under his cool timbre. “She'll have water.”
Marlon's attention swung to Ryland, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I didn't realize you looked out for your employees so well,” he remarked.
“Now you do,” Ryland said simply.
The two men stared down each other for a beat until Marlon broke his gaze to turn back to the bar.
“You heard them, Lola,” he called good-naturedly. “One water, and I'll have the same as my friend Ryland here, Obrigado.”
The room gradually filled with cigar smoke and the tang of liquor as Ryland and Marlon talked and drank.
The conversation that went on between them was seemingly innocuous. They chatted about topics at random, like sports or their mutual business acquaintances, but under their easy banter there was an underlying current of caution, as if they were both trying to figure out how to gain the upper hand on the other.
It was especially so for Marlon.
His lax posture and easy laughter made it seem like this was just a game to him, but his sharp gaze said that he was filing away information for future use. This man had to be a nightmare to go up against, and his youth and beauty only made it easier to be caught unawares.
His attention soon turned back to me. “Allie, was it? How long have you been working for Ryland?”
I felt Ryland’s watchful gaze on me.
“Just over two weeks,” I said evenly.
Marlon brought one bare foot up on the sofa, resting his elbow on his knee. His eyes studied me, and I tried to ignore the way he was clearly dissecting me in his mind.
“Two weeks?” he mused. “Mm. Don't get me wrong, you're a beautiful woman. But you're not Ryland's usual type.”
He cocked his head at Ryland. “Your previous secretary, what was her name? Tina? Tiffany? Now she was a hot piece, all tits and ass, and smart even. I wanted to hire her out from you myself.”
I blinked. I'd heard nothing of this secretary.
I looked at Ryland, but he said nothing as he coolly regarded the smiling guy across him. Ugly jealousy crawled up my throat, and I forced it down quickly.
“Lay off it, da Silva,” Ryland said coldly. “We both know we operate differently.”
Marlon smiled in delight. “Is that what you think? You sly bastard.”
Was this what Ryland wanted me to know?
That he may have slept with his previous employees?
I twisted my hands in my lap. Whatever mind game Marlon da Silva was playing was definitely getting to me, and I'd said only one sentence to him.
Marlon turned to me again with a friendly grin. “How about you come to work for me instead? I'll make it worth your while.”
“Whatever you're planning to offer her, I’ve already matched and doubled it,” Ryland said coolly.
“Huh.” Marlon leaned back, a smug smile on his lips. “She must be a very…talented assistant for you to be so possessive.”
Frieda and Lola giggled at the innuendo, slapping at Marlon's chest playfully.
Marlon however, was still watching Ryland closely. He was clearly trying to get a reaction from him, to find a weakness, but Ryland just stared him down with those ice cold eyes.
“Alright,” Marlon murmured, his lips curving slowly. “Enough with playtime. Let's get to talking business.”
Instead of relaxing like I expected him to, Ryland stiffened.
I caught Frieda and Lola watching me with pitying smiles on their faces, as if they knew something I didn't.
“Your project Director spoke to mine last week,” Marlon continued. “If I recall right, Wyatt Corp is looking at land off the coast at Copacabana, and you want to work together with us to develop a luxury resort.”
“That’s right.”
Marlon nodded. “I'll tell you this as a friend. My father likes the idea of working with the Wyatt’s again. But we have other bidders for the project, all who are very interested.”
“But you're not looking for a bidding war,” Ryland said simply, “or we wouldn't be having this meeting.”
“You're right. We're looking for other kinds of incentive.”
Ryland's lips twisted wryly. “You want control over the project.”
Marlon nodded again. “We want to know upfront the percentage shares our companies will hold, for instance, and the say in decision-making, right down to the project timelines and even the management and architecture of the resort.”
“That's not how we operate.” Ryland pinned him with a direct gaze. “I won't go into this deal if it's not worth my time, da Silva.”
Marlon smiled for some reason. “Then let me make it worth your time.”
He pushed to his feet, snapping his fingers at the guards stationed by the door and giving an order in Portuguese as he strode over to the bar.
Ryland stiffened beside me.
“What's happening?” I whispered, but he just looked straight ahead, like he was awaiting gunfire from an execution squad.
“Ryland?” I shifted closer to him, feeling worried all of a sudden.
Surely it couldn't be…
Seconds later the door opened, and I had my answer.
I stared in mute shock as half a dozen voluptuous women dressed in nothing but jeweled bras, thongs and platform stilettos sauntered into the room.
My blood leached from my face. “What's going on? Are they…?”
Ryland released a slow breath through his nose. “Strippers,” he said quietly.
The smell of several different perfumes filled the air, stinging my nose. The girls lined up in front of Ryland and me like some kind of harem display.
I felt Ryland's gaze on me, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the preening women.
This was screwed up, and far beyond anything I'd expected. I waited desperately for Ryland to tell me this was some kind of joke Marlon was playing.
But Ryland didn't say a word.
Another signal from Marlon, and the women moved into action.
A busty blonde in scarlet red lingerie strolled to perch on the other side of Ryland on the sofa, purring as she ran her hands over his shoulders and scraped her nails along his jaw. Her bra was so translucent that I could see the dark areolas of her nipples.
A redhead leaned over the back of our sofa and draped herself over Ryland, brazenly undoing his shirt buttons.
A brunette knelt between his knees, reaching around her back to undo her bra. She plumped her generous breasts together, twirling her fingers on her nipples, moaning in pleasure.
Then she leaned forward and rubbed them directly on Ryland’s crotch.
Ryland made no move to push the women away. His intent gaze was still on me, as if he wanted me to watch.
As if he were trying to punish me in the worst way possible.
I could feel Marlon watching the scene as well, but I couldn't care about appearances any longer, not when I was a hair's breadth away from throwing up.
“Is this what you wanted to show me?” I whispered. “That you'd mess around with strippers just to get a contract?”
Ryland‘s gaze did not waver. “I do more than just mess around, Allie.”
My heart broke.
“I'm not that misunderstood guy you tell yourself I am,” he continued. “This is what I am. Do you still think there’s a “we”? Do you still want it?”
“You asshole,” I hissed, my vision blurring with heat. “You don’t care about what I want, you're just trying to keep yourself safe. Guess what? You succeeded. Congratulations.”
Unable to bear the sight of the women fondling him any longer, I shot up from the sofa.
Ryland stood as well, grasping my hand. “Call Worthy to pick you up,” he said in a low voice, “and don't leave this place until he gets here.”
I glared at him through my tears. “If you think I'm going to be sitting outside while you have your orgy in here, you're fucking delusional.”
I yanked on my hand, but Ryland held on fast. “Wait for him outside,” he gritted. “I won't compromise on that.”
“Fuck you, Ryland. You say that you aren't the person I thought you were?” I twisted my arm from his grasp. “You're wrong. I knew you were an asshole from the start, I just got confused for a while there. Thanks for setting the record straight.”
“Is your lady feeling uncomfortable?” Marlon suddenly called from behind us. “Sorry chica, but this is just how it's done.”
I was filled with disgust, wanting no more than to stride over and slap the cocky smile off the heir's face.
Instead, I swallowed against my tightening throat and forced a light tone to my shaky voice.
“No, I’m just surprised. I'll just leave you boys to it then. Thanks for having me.”
It took every cell in me to turn and walk calmly out of the room, instead of fleeing like I desperately wanted to.
***
“Back. The fuck. Off,” I snarled the moment the door shut behind Allie.
The approaching women stepped back immediately when they saw my expression.
“Whoa, don’t talk to my girls that way, amigo. They’re just doing their job.”
The fucker wasn’t wrong, but I couldn't help the murderous mood I was in. Allie had stared at me like I’d betrayed her. I could almost see her the lens of her rose-tinted glasses shattering as she’d watched the women try to seduce me.
The funny part was that she hadn't even seen the worst that I'd done.
Fucking hell.
I scrubbed a hand over my face.
Why was everything going to shits suddenly? Just yesterday I had Allie in my arms. We had an understanding.
Things were good.
Marlon draped an arm around a woman who had joined him and leaned back against the bar counter.
“I knew it,” he called. “Your attention was on her the whole time we were talking. Ryland Wyatt and Beckett’s daughter. Shit, think of all the ways I can make you dance.”
“If you lay a finger on her, I'll destroy you,” I snarled.
“Relax, man.” Marlon held his hands up. “It's all just entertainment.”
Entertainment that had backfired on me.
Shit, how was I going to explain this to Allie later? I came in here with the intention of…what?
Opening her eyes to the real me?
Pushing her away?
This had been a mistake from the start. I couldn't give her the relationship she wanted, that hadn't changed. But this was a fucked up way to break the news.
This place even reminded me of Theo's fuckpad back in San Juan. Hell, it even smelled the same.
But this time, I wanted nothing more than to be out of here.
This time, I wanted something else. Someone else.
Fuck this.
“We're done here.” I strode to the door.
“Stay,” Marlon called, “and I'll get my father to sign the property over to you, with the majority stake going to Wyatt Corp.”
I paused.
Marlon strolled over to me. “But if you take one step out of this room,” he said quietly, “you'll lose the deal with us.”
He looked at me dead in the eye. “All you need to do is stay for another hour. You won't even have to fuck any of the girls. Think of the all money you're going to make, Ryland. Don’t throw that away for just one woman.”
I would be lying if I said I wasn't tempted.
I could always find a way to explain it to Allie later, to convince her that I didn’t touch any of the women.
But the thought of her waiting outside with her mind running wild damn near killed me.
“Keep your contract, da Silva,” I sneered. “If I could, I'd piss on it.”
Marlon looked stunned as I turned and strode from the room.