Afterlife (Knights of the Board Room #4)

Afterlife (Knights of the Board Room #4) Page 19

Her sweet pussy had responded with a surge of cream when he"d painted those images in her mind last night.

Always before, he"d embraced something like this as a challenging puzzle, something he could patiently wait for the universe to reveal. He"d enjoy the journey, seeing a clear beginning and end. But they were right. This was different.

Before last night, he might have said the beginning was learning she wasn"t married. But that wasn"t true. All that spiritual discipline they teased him about, he"d applied with agonizing rigor over the past year. He"d meditated, immersed himself in late night inventing marathons, gone to their favored club and worked out sexual pressure in scenes with various submissives.

All tactics to handle the ache in his groin and the even more painful ache in his heart when they grew to be too much, like when he caught a glimpse of her smile, or the yearning behind her eyes. There"d been moments, such as when she touched him during the yoga nidra, that his Master"s instincts had shot forth so hard and strong, it had taken everything he had not to reach out with both hands and seize what she was subconsciously offering. Plunder that mouth, wrap his hands in her hair and take, take, take.

More than once, he"d considered not attending anymore, but something had kept him going back. So yesterday sure as hell hadn"t been the beginning. It had merely been the drill bit that had plunged into that vein of contained feelings. Emotions were exploding inside him like a full blown, out-of-control gusher.

Matt had called it with pinpoint accuracy. She"d stepped square onto his stage, and everything else was in darkness. In a matter of two days, she"d become the only purpose. Every step was vital. He needed to be careful, plan things out. Unfortunately, his instinct wanted to run her down like a mastiff breathing down the neck of a fleeing rabbit. He wasn"t used to being in that kind of mindset. He was the thinker, the fix-it guy. The big-picture guru.

His uneasiness must have shown in his face, for Ben sobered, a rare occurrence.

“Seriously, man. You won"t fail.”

Matt flashed his trademark dangerous smile. “We never do.”

“Mr. Forte.” Janet, their supremely efficient admin, spoke through Jon"s speaker phone. “I know you"re in conference, but Rachel Madison is here to see you.” She"d come, and much earlier than he expected. Every part of him reacted, muscles tensing like an eager predator at the end of a chain. He saw it reflected in their knowing glances. Still, trying for calm, Jon lifted a brow, glanced at Matt. “How does she do that?

I never have to tell her anything. Not only did she know I wanted to see Rachel right away, she knew she should interrupt me, even if I was in a meeting with you all.”

“Probably particularly if you were in meeting with us,” Lucas said dryly. “Janet is a scary woman. We all know she"s a demon Matt hired straight from the bowels of hell.

She knows everything.”

“Actually, I"m an angel, sent by God to keep you from drowning in all your depravations and sins.”

Matt chuckled as Lucas winced. Jon glanced toward the speaker phone. “Point taken, Janet. Show her back here and then you can go back to preening your feathers and shining your halo.”

“Please. Haloes are so last millennium. We prefer the aura of light that drives men to their knees in awe and wonder.”

“Seems to me they could do a lot better things for you in that position than—” Ben grinned as the phone disconnected sharply enough to cause a static pop on the speaker phone. When Matt gave him a quelling look, the lawyer raised both hands in surrender.

“Clearing out.”

Peter followed him as Matt rose, gave Jon a nod. “You know where we"ll be.” The unspoken message being— Yes, we never fail, but if you stumble, we’re here. Jon made a Herculean attempt to clear his mind, relax his shoulders.

Lucas lingered last. “You need backup in here?”

“No, I"ve got this one. But thanks, to all of you. I just hope I haven"t fucked it up.”

“Well, she"s here. That"s got to be a foot in the door, even if she"s here to put it up your ass.”

Before Jon could reply to that, Janet appeared in the doorway. The attractive forty-something in a form-fitting pale yellow suit and pearls offered her cool smile. Her warm voice and professional mien gave nothing of their previous volley away. “Mr.

Forte, are you ready for Ms. Madison?”

That’s a good question, Jon thought. Now or never. He"d said he knew her, but knew nothing about her. He would make the connection, though, because as Matt had said, his whole life had been about this moment. Even if he"d never realized it until now.

Chapter Seven

When Rachel parked in the well-lit K&A deck, she noted they had guards who patrolled each of the four levels. No visitor had to be concerned about the potential hazards of a dimly lit parking garage. Further, the one on her level gave her helpful instructions on how to get to Jon Forte"s office from the garage elevators. She was on the approved visitor list, an unexpected and somewhat unsettling courtesy.

She"d been questioning her sanity for the entire drive, but as she stepped into the elevator, she reminded herself again that she owed him a face-to-face explanation. She wasn"t here…to be what he wanted. She"d worn her most conservative slacks and blouse combination, the one she used for PT department presentations to the hospital board. She"d pulled her hair up in a neat bun, taming all those feminine strands around her face with pins and a black ribbon.

She"d fought with herself on that, because pulling her hair back so severely only emphasized the stress and age lines. She"d compromised with a light application of makeup—even when making a point, a woman needed some vanity, and the bruise, though much better, needed some coverage—but the color on her lips was a subdued burgundy. While she wore heels, they were sensible black pumps.

Her nerves felt like a wheat field churned up by the passage of a tornado, leaving an uneven impression of the devastation. She vacillated between shivers of pleasure, remembering every millisecond of the night he"d spent with her, and shame at what she"d revealed about herself, how much she"d surrendered. She was frightened, scared of what he"d pulled from her. Nearly a dozen times, she"d almost reversed course to do exactly everything he"d ordered in that note.

To counter that, she"d retreated into anger more than once. He"d sabotaged her on her home ground. She had a world of poison boiling in her gut, and it didn"t much matter to her that it was old poison. He"d uncapped the bottle. Maybe if he got a full dose of it, he"d realize how pointless this was. They"d politely say their goodbyes. Oh God, what if he kept coming to yoga class? What if he didn"t?

Getting off at the top floor and seeing all the signs of wealth and success—a mahogany desk in the admin area, Persian rugs and priceless original artwork on the walls—gave her pause. Home ground advantage meant something entirely different here. Her home ground had whimsical cat figurines and romantic Waterhouse prints bought at warehouse discount. It was as much a home court advantage as a rabbit"s hole was to a terrier. This…this was definitely not that. As she approached the desk, the only thing that eased a smidgen of her growing tension was the plaque the very efficient-looking woman had on her desk.

Secretary is not a derogatory term. Otherwise the government position would be Administrative Assistant of State.

She gave her name, but the secretary was already rising. “Hello, Ms. Madison. I"m Janet. Martin said you were coming up to see Mr. Forte. Follow me, please.” She was taken down a hall designed with open spaces, more exceptional artwork and skylights letting in sunlight. One threw a colored design on the cream carpet and she looked up to see a stained-glass depiction of St. George and the Dragon. A medieval-looking script had been stamped in the decorative frame.

Some days, the dragon wins.

“The Kensington men have an unusual sense of humor,” Janet noted. The woman had stopped, giving her a moment to look. Was Rachel losing her mind, or did it feel like the woman knew exactly why she was here, and how this would go? A scary idea because, despite everything Rachel had told herself she was going to say, now that she was a breath from seeing him, she wasn"t sure anymore.

This had been a mistake.

“I think I left something in my car. I should…”

Janet had taken a step away from her, and now stood in an open doorway. “Mr.

Forte, are you ready for Ms. Madison?”

He must have nodded, because Janet turned then, gesturing her forward. Rachel managed a polite thanks, hoping she sounded far calmer than she was. As Janet passed her, the woman touched her arm.

“You know, knights slay all kinds of dragons. If you give them the chance.” The whispered observation left Rachel staring after her. At least until she heard a quiet throat clearing. Telling her heart to settle back in its proper place in her chest, she turned her attention to who awaited her over that threshold.

Last night, she hadn"t had much time to consider him in his working clothes. He often changed into his suit before he left the studio, but she"d only seen him in it at a distance, when he was getting into his car. According to one of her more inquisitive students who"d quizzed him, his silver sports car was a hydrogen-fueled prototype. It probably cost a small fortune.

Now she saw him standing by his desk in his gray slacks and silk tie, his white shirt sleeves rolled up. He had a pencil tucked behind his ear, probably working on the drawing she saw in progress on the large drafting table in the corner. She found it intriguing he was using that instead of a computer screen. He had lead smudges on his fingertips.

She captured all that detail in one hungry moment before she met his blue eyes.

They locked with hers, and then his gaze slid over her face, her hair, down over her body. It was a slow, deliberate appraisal, every inch underscoring that she"d not done as he"d commanded. It made something quiver low in her belly. Surely, he"d known she wouldn"t. But in his presence she suddenly, fervently wished she had, that she"d obeyed him, given him what would please him.