Chapter Ten
“You? Get the hell out.” The same feisty chick with red-tipped hair who’d helped Lily out with the board stepped in front of Alexi, her skin flashing red and blue with the nearby siren.
“Not sure that language is cemetery appropriate.”
“It’s not a good idea for you to be here.” Jim Winslow, his face pale, his eyes worried, hovered just behind the girl, still pretending he gave a damn about his boss and the company.
“For better or worse, that rarely stops me.” Ducking beneath the caution tape, Alexi stormed by them, leaving Eaton, Morales, and the rest of his security to deal with the fallout.
The flash of cameras from photographers, the shouts of reporters, and the ever-present cell phones of gawkers bounced off his back.
Definitely not the usual fare for the exclusive cemetery where Russell Winslow and the rest of New York’s rich and famous were laid to rest. But little about what had happened here today was.
The scope of the Winslow Industries situation had just widened far beyond your typical business ugliness.
Moving around the rows of white marble slabs, he made his way toward the largest gravestone of all. A police car was parked alongside, but he didn’t see a uniform anywhere.
Just as well. His sole focus was on the lone figure standing by the grave, her arms clutched around one another, her chin tipped downward as she stared at the words spray-painted on the headstone: Resign, bitch. Or else.
The urge to hurt someone pounded through Alexi’s veins.
He moved to stand beside her, the subtle scent of peaches and honey filling his lungs, calming him even as it provoked.
For a few breaths, she said nothing. Offered no acknowledgment. Her silence a stark contrast to the chaos around them.
Though patience wasn’t his strong suit, he waited. And waited.
The trampled flower petals someone had ground into the dirt only pissed him off more.
“You here to deliver more index cards?” She spoke at last, her voice surprisingly steady.
“No.” This morning’s insanity seemed like ages ago.
“Then you shouldn’t be here.”
“It wasn’t me.”
She turned to face him. Like he’d been wanting from the start.
It was another sucker punch. The taut lines around her eyes, the streak of dirt on her cheek, the pinched mouth, all new. This morning that perfect mouth had been warm and wet and molded to his.
“It wasn’t me,” he repeated. “This was a cowardly act. I’m no coward. When I come at someone, I do it head-on.”
“That bull in a china shop tactic does sound familiar.”
Her grudging acquiescence sent an odd sense of relief spiraling through him. He’d never given a fuck what any competitor thought of his tactics or him. But then again, he’d never wanted to lay one of them down on the nearest flat surface and fuck them raw.
“But tell me this,” she continued, “if you’re so direct why not tell me before that you were after the company for personal reasons related to your late fiancée and the woman who raised you?”
Another unexpected punch. “I assumed you knew.” He flicked at piece of pollen off his suit. “Russell knew. He should have told you.” He fought to keep his expression cool. “Anastasia was Russell’s child. Lena, his one-time girlfriend. He stole their legacy and their money, and I intend to get it back for them.” His gaze locked with hers. “Now you’ve heard it from me directly.” He stepped closer. “But I want to be clear. None of that has anything to do with what happened in that conference room this morning.”
A flush swept across her cheeks, her gaze dropping to the nearby grave. “I have no interest in discussing that here.”
“Fine.” He could be patient—in short bursts. He surveyed the line of marble slabs. “Any other graves desecrated?”
“Not as far as the police can tell.”
“Which means it was definitely a message. Meant for you.”
She blew out another long breath, her fingers worrying on that damn gold band that always made him scowl. “Yup.”
“One you—”
“Intend to ignore.”
“Are you sure that’s smart?”
Her chin shot up. “Are you sure you don’t have an ulterior motive in asking me that?”
From deep inside an annoying voice that sounded a lot like Eaton suggested it was time to go. That he’d done what he’d come to do—set the record straight—and cutting out now was the smart move while backing off altogether and not trying to get into her pants ever again would be pure fucking brilliance.
He stayed put. “Fine. We’ll table that subject for now, too. What do the police know?”
“Not much.” She let out a small sigh, stretching her neck to the left, then the right, the fall of hair forward exposing a line of throat he wanted to trace with his tongue. “The cop they sent is searching the perimeter for additional clues, but whoever did this must have blended in with one of the funeral parties because no one specifically remembers anyone hovering near Russell’s grave. Security cameras are few and far between, but one did catch a blurry image of the backs of two figures near the headstone.”
She pulled her coat tighter around her—some flimsy, glossy thing that was more stylish than effective. “It’s impossible to tell, however, if they’re the vandals or just mourners on the way to visit another grave. But someone did this. Some bastard defaced Russell’s grave and trampled his flowers.”
Morales had already discovered all that. And gotten his own copy of the surveillance pictures, which was helpful. It had given Alexi time to prepare.
To his surprise, he hadn’t taken it well when he’d first heard, his fist slamming hard into the back of the car seat several times—and then once more for good measure since he couldn’t shake the sense that something about at least one of the figures in the blurred surveillance photo looked familiar.
Now, hearing that tiny catch in her voice, the urge to punch something was back one hundredfold.
He told himself it was just common courtesy, the gentlemanly honorable and humane impulse to help someone weaker, but the fact was he’d never been courteous or gentlemanly or honorable or humane in his life. So what the hell was going on?
“Where was Paul when this happened?” Alexi forced himself to focus on something he could do. “He can’t be happy you were able to convince the board to keep you on a little longer.”
“He’s not the only one.”
“I told you already, this wasn’t me.”
She was silent for a heartbeat. “Security cameras show Paul was in the building all morning and then clearing out his office,” she volunteered at last. “I fired him.”
“Good.” He decided to hold back the fact she should have done it long ago. “But getting canned only gives him more of a motive—and he doesn’t need to have been here to be behind it. He could have paid someone else. He certainly wasn’t there when the reporters ambushed you at Tyson’s hotel, but he was definitely the reason.”
“I’m well aware. The police are investigating him—and others as well.” She stood straighter. “But whatever the cowards who did this to Russell’s grave intended, it won’t delay me at all.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you took a day or two. I could talk to the board. Ask for a postponement on the vote.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I didn’t say it was necessary, just that it could happen if you’d like it to.”
“Well, I don’t.”
A flash went off. Then several more. Shouts issued from the nearby reporters.
“You should have your people move them back.” He gave the mob a warning glare. “They’re pushing the limits of what’s allowed.”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “I don’t want to antagonize them.”
“They won’t stop until you draw a hard line.”
“I prefer a less Neanderthal approach.”
Was she kidding? He’d been congratulating himself on his show of restraint.
Then, as predicted, a hack from one of the fringe papers barreled under the police tape, his nostrils flaring as if he scented a Pulitzer. “Lily, is this the ghost of Russell returned? Have you considered baring all and telling your side of the story? Others have done it. Our paper would—”
Relieved to finally be able to do something, Alexi stepped in front of her and, with the tilt of his head, gave Morales and his team the go-ahead. They had the asshole in ten seconds, his toes dragging along the pavement as they escorted him from the premises screeching about rights. All the while, the two security guards employed by the cemetery—used to dealing with bodies that never moved—just stared.
His rival looked equally shocked. “That”—her mouth opened, but no complete sentences came out—“that was…”
“Come on.” Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her around to the other side of the police car, away from the defaced grave, and out of sight of the reporters—and everyone—because…well, just be-fucking-cause.
She stared down at his hand. “You can’t just come in and take over.”
“Did you want him in your face asking stupid questions?”
“No.”
“Then problem solved.”
“Problem solved?” It was as near to a shriek as he’d ever heard from her.
“Stop arguing with me and listen. We’ll clear the floor below mine at my building for your company use until they figure out who’s behind this. And you need better security. I’ll have Morales send over a list of top options. We’ll have something in place for you by morning.”
He expected gratitude. Relief. Instead, she glared up at him as if he’d just kicked her puppy. “That’s kind of you to offer—or rather decree—but it’s not going to happen.”
“Why the hell not?”
She shook off his hold. “Because I’m fine where I am. Moving out is an overreaction. What’s more, I don’t need you to sweep in and fix things. I can take care of myself. I have for a long time now and,” she lowered her voice, “grinding up against each other in that conference room didn’t change a damn thing about our rivalry. Stop pretending it did.”
“Did you inhale too much spray paint?” He really didn’t get this woman. Anastasia would have handed over the reins a long time ago. Hell, so would most of his associates.
And the fact that she was making a hell of a lot more sense than him? That might chafe the most. “You’re really pissing me off.”
“Good.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “I won’t be beholden to you.”
It was the strangest thing. People were always asking him for things. Favors. Deals. Information. Money. They wanted him to fix things. They expected him to solve issues. Make things happen. Deliver.
It was what he did. Who he was. How he coped.
But not Lily Bennett.
Which was a problem.
Because the more she told him to stay the hell out of her business, the more he wanted in. Not just her tight body, but inside her stubborn will. Inside her complicated mind.
And the last time he’d cared enough to try and storm such high walls, Anastasia had died. He’d barely survived. Lena’s heart had been broken.
“You won’t like me pissed off,” he warned.
“I don’t like you at all,” she snapped right back. “You have your loyalties. I have mine. You have your objectives. I have mine. Pretending anything more is possible between us is not only dumb, but dangerous.”
He slammed his mouth over hers.
Without hesitation, her tongue met his. His scalp tingling as her fingers burrowed in his hair and locked him close. Damn, if he didn’t like being on the same side as this unpredictable, stubborn, crazy-making woman. Holding her close. Keeping her safe.
“Lily? Are you back here?” Jim’s unwelcome voice echoed from around the other side of the car. The man had the worst timing in the world.
“Tell him to go the fuck away.” Alexi wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her pinned as he nipped at her earlobe. The junkyard dog in him was three feral seconds away from tearing out the jugular of anyone stupid enough to try and take her from him.
“Lily?” The impatient bastard sounded near.
“Coming,” she yelled.
“Not yet,” Alexi’s mouth ghosted over the corner of her mouth, “but you could be. Once I work that pretty clit the way it needs. Once I fuck you like we both want.”
She shivered, her pupils shrinking even as her jaw firmed. “This…this is not a good idea. I…I have to go.”
“To him?” His grip tensed. “I won’t be put off much longer. It might be dumb. It might be dangerous. But fighting this is getting us nowhere.”
She stiffened against him. “It may come as a shock to learn it’s not just up to you.” Her gaze slid away. “My husband is buried right over there.”
“The man has been dead for a year. He can’t dislike anything anymore.”
Crass? Yes. But something ugly sliced through him at the sound of that name on the lips just pressed against his.
She wrestled out of his hold. “I’m sorry your late fiancée and the woman who raised you had a rough time of it, but there is no proof Russell was behind it. Plus, that man was my husband and a good friend. I won’t stand by and let you insult him. I miss him every day.”
“While shoving your tongue down my throat?” The ugliness had him in a stranglehold. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
She flinched, but came back fast. “We all grieve in our own way. Your throat seemed a convenient enough depository.”
Seizing her arm, he yanked her close. “I’m not some pathetic substitute you’re grinding up against to ease your grief, and you know it.”
She shoved backward. “The only thing I know for sure is you want Winslow Industries, and you’ve repeatedly said you’ll do whatever it takes to get it. If that includes fucking me, you’d better rethink your strategy.”
He brought his nose inches from hers. “When we fuck—and we will—it will be in spite of all the baggage related to the company, not because of it.”
“Your arrogance is unbelievable.”
“Arrogance has nothing to do with it.” He tamped down the urge to grab her and prove his point here and now. “I’ll be waiting for you, Lily. Don’t take too long.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“I’d rather be holding you.” Straightening his tie, he took a step back. Then another. Jim’s tentative tread growing easier to hear. “I’ll have my men reach out with any information they discover about the vandalism.”
Surprise flickered in her gaze, but it was quickly masked. “Thank you. That would be appreciated.”
So civil. So polite. So fucking irritating.
“Just watch yourself, Armageddon.” He lengthened the distance between them, trying hard not to think about the fact that another Winslow male was about to take his place. “Maybe the graffiti and trampled flowers are the end of it. But it could also be just the beginning. Whoever did this today isn’t happy with the board’s decision to keep you on as head for now. You need to stay on your toes.”
“I’d prefer to concentrate on bringing you to your knees.”
Damn. He really wished he didn’t like that smart mouth of hers quite so much.