CHAPTER SIX
Benjamin
Morgan is curled against me, one arm thrown across my chest while I stare at nothing, really. I feel at peace for once, no longer restless. It’s not something I am at all familiar with, and sex can’t be the only answer. I’ve had sex before, great sex, okay sex, and blow-off-the-top-of-my-head sex. Tonight was definitely in the last category.
Hell, it’s a step above that.
Still… peace isn’t something I ever thought I’d have in my lifetime.
I’ve always been a restless sort, traveling from place to place. Even after I was given my freedom by Grandfather, I still chose to run away, I guess, by moving to America, then to Spain for a while, and finally here.
The PharmGen position seemed to appear out of nowhere. Since I’m not a believer of coincidences, I fully investigated them before agreeing to an interview. PharmGen is one of those companies that spend money on making their vaccines affordable. They devote time to charitable events. Set up free clinics in third-world countries.
Besides, it’s not as if the company is perfect. There were massive tax problems in the past, but the new CEO, my boss, fixed all of that when he came aboard two years before I was hired.
Morgan sighs, a sweet sound in an otherwise silent room.
She’s rather trusting, this one. Most women wouldn’t have stayed the night, and I sure as hell wouldn’t have asked them.
Perhaps it’s the company I keep. The wide circle of acquaintances I socialize with but never really get to know, not beyond their social media pages, anyway.
An airplane making its way across the midnight sky catches my eye. My penthouse is so far above the London fog that I can see stars outside my window. When we left the pub, it was still day. But I haven’t given a thought to time or anything, only to the woman in my bed.
Glancing at the clock, I frown. It’s almost three in the morning, and I have to be at work at seven. I haven’t slept, and I haven’t eaten—two things that make me grumpy as hell—except I’m feeling mighty fine.
Thanks to Morgan.
When I was a child, I didn’t take eating or sleeping for granted, mostly because I wasn’t allowed much of either unless my caretakers were in the mood to throw me a bone. Literally a bone, in some cases. There were times the dogs and I fought over it.
By the time I was taken to my grandfather’s house, I was mere skin and bones. Half afraid to talk. Fully expecting I would be beaten for not knowing the rules. Rather ironic that the head of the Bratva treated me better than my mother’s sister. However, that is life. Sometimes the bad guys are actually good, and the good ones… well, they get theirs in the end.
Unlike my brother Nikolai, I have absolutely no regret for paying them back for their hospitality. None at all.
Slowly, I extricate myself from Morgan’s warm, sweet embrace. I put on a pair of pajama bottoms before heading to my office. The room is the coldest one in the house, but it feels rather balmy to my bare feet and chest.
The monitors flicker to life as soon as I sit down. While I grab a snack from the stash I keep in the bottom desk drawer, I check on the half-a-dozen programs I have running.
Contrary to widespread belief, hackers don’t sit at their bloody desk beating their keyboards into submission while an imaginary clock counts down in order to get information. Rather, we gently insert programs into the back entrances of company software. Massage lines of codes until they purr just the way we want. Coax the information we need out of hiding.
Sexy, no?
Suddenly, there is an alert. I click on the popup. It’s another email from Dr. Clark—one he sent minutes before his meeting with me. Only this time, he’d sent it via his mobile phone.
“Fuck me sideways,” I mutter, opening the file and scanning the contents, but it’s mostly in scientific jargon and filled with a formula I can’t decipher. However, there are a few things that stick out.
Virus. Antidote. Meet as soon as possible.
My jaw clenches as I pick up the phone to call David Pinter. He’s the head of PharmGen and the man I always contact before we decide what to do about a breach. Usually, the breach is handled with a severance package, non-disclosure agreement, and a very real threat to ruin them should they ever attempt to share our company secrets again.
“You stupid man,” I mutter. “I gave you the chance to leave with your dignity intact.”
David answers on the third ring. “Benjamin, how are you?” Music and the low din of people talking fills the background.
Belatedly, I remember he’s at an after-party for a new foundation that will focus on drinkable water wells in third-world countries. However, my instructions are to notify David at any time, no matter what.
“We have a problem.”
“I trust you to take care of it. Give whoever it is the usual.”
His faith in me is more than a little humbling. I came to PharmGen as a college dropout. College was too chafing. Despite being the same age as most of my classmates, I’d witnessed things—done things—that they’d only watched in movies. I envied everything about the comparative innocence of their lives.
“This is not a usual breech,” I inform him. “We have a situation.”
“Give me a minute to move to a more private location.”
While he finds a better spot, I open the email program I created to search through company internet and intranet communications. The program is rather simple. It searches for keywords that are constantly added and subtracted to a database by me. When a certain phrase or word is detected, then the communication is flagged for my approval. If it is via PharmGen’s intranet, the alert comes through my phone via text. In Dr. Clark’s case, outgoing emails can be delayed much longer.
“What do you have for me?” David asks.
“Dr. Clark again. He sent an email to three of our competitors via his mobile.”
“Are there specifics?”
I scan the email again. “Only to those in the scientific community.”
David laughs, but a sliver of unease creeps up my spine. “Not to worry. There is a NDA in place for a reason. Not one single employee of PharmGen wants to be sued, not even Dr. Clark. Besides, it could be scientific mumbo-jumbo in order to get a bigger payout from us.”
“True enough. However, I’ll monitor his correspondences for the next month to be sure.”
“Thanks for doing such an excellent job for the company,” David replies. “Remind me to give you a raise.”
I don’t need the money. This job has never been about the money for me. It has always been about doing something right—something good—for once. “Will do.”
He ends our call. I’m left staring at the screen, trying to decipher what Clark wants to tell the world.
“Benjamin, where are you?” Morgan calls, her voice sleepy and confused.
“Coming, love.” I shut down the monitors and head to my bedroom.
Light from the hallway cuts through the room, highlighting Morgan’s exquisite body. The sheets pool around her waist as she yawns. Her breasts are marked with love bites, and her dark nipples are tight.
Her eyes seem to brighten when they fix on me. She holds her arms open. “Come back to bed.”
I stop at the edge of the mattress, wondering what game she’s playing. Then again, she is an American and they are notoriously affectionate. Only an idiot would ignore her siren’s call.
And I am far from an idiot.
Her arms drop and lips I spent hours kissing start to curve downward. She glances away, then turns and swings her legs over the mattress.
Fuck. She’s leaving, and it’s entirely my fault.
In an instant, I’m in bed and pulling her to me. “Don’t leave.” Her body stiffens, but I begin to run my hands up and down her cool arms until she relaxes into me. “Work stuff distracted me, mllaya moyna.”
“Mllaya moyna?”
My sweet. I have never called a woman this. Never fallen back on my first language to soothe anyone. “It’s Russian.”
“That’s nice.”
“You don’t sound pleased.”
“I’ve never done this before—have a one-night stand, that is.” She sniffs. “Pretty sure there’s no crying in one-night stands. I’m really botching this.”
“There aren’t any rules.”
“Well, if there were, then I probably broke all of them.”
“Like the rules on fraternization at PharmGen?” I ask lightly.
“Exactly—oh! No.” She turns to face me. Tears are at the corners of her eyes. Some have already fallen, leaving glistening tracks on her cheeks. “You knew I was lying the whole time, didn’t you?”
I consider my words for a moment. “I knew I wanted what you insisted to be true, to be true.”
She eyes me. “You are super confusing.”
I lean my forehead against hers. “While you are super adorable.”
“I wanted to be super sexy,” she says glumly. “Super exciting.”
“Why don’t you just be you?” I suggest.
“Easy for you to say.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
She sighs again. “I appreciate that you’re trying to make me feel better, but I want to go home.”
“If you’ll give me a few minutes, I’ll have my car brought around and—”
“No. I’ll text a cab.” Her silky hair tickles my nose as she moves to stand beside the bed. Moonlight highlights her graceful, supple body. More than anything, I want her to stay. “Thank you for an enjoyable time. It was exciting to do something different. Get to be someone I’m not.”
Let her go. She needs to do this on her terms, not yours.
While I hate to let her go, I do understand the need to stand on one’s own feet. To dictate one’s own rules and to leave with dignity intact. I’d allowed Clark to leave with his, and he was a criminal.
Morgan deserves much more than that.
Which is exactly why I follow her into the foyer, where our clothes are scattered like confetti across the floor.
“Are you available for lunch tomorrow?” I ask as she fastens her bra.
She glances over her shoulder. Shock is evident in her expression. “What about the fraternization thing?”
“I can be fast.”
Her mouth drops a little, then a glimmer of a smile makes my heart flip in my chest. “Thanks, but I already have plans.”
She’s giving me a way out. I really should take it, but, apparently, I can’t stop myself. “If they should change, then let me know.”
“Sure.” After she finishes getting dressed, she waves her phone. “Cab’s already here. Happened to be in the area.”
“Let me walk you down.”
She shuts her eyes, then opens them. “You’re going way beyond the whole nice-guy routine and I appreciate it, but at the same time… it feels like a pity thing.”
I take a step back, opening the door for her. “At least text me when you get home.”
“Are you sure?”
I hold out my hand. “Give me your phone.”
“Fine.” With only a little reluctance, she allows me to take it from her.
Quickly, I text myself before she can change her mind. “I have your number, and you have mine.”
“Thanks,” she mumbles, then slips out the door.
Rubbing a hand over the back of my neck, I wait until she’s safely in the elevator before closing the door, then I sprint to my office and check the cameras I’ve installed along the perimeter of the roof.
Since London is one of the most watched cities in the world, it’s relatively easy to jump on their security system and virtually follow Megan home. Perhaps that makes me a stalker, but a woman traveling alone can be a target at this time of night.
Once she enters her apartment building, I breathe a hell of a lot easier.