His Terms

Sorcha reached for it, unwrapped the dainty little thing, and when she opened the lid her heart stopped.

“Holy shit, look at the diamonds and pearls on that.”

Inside were the bracelet and earrings that Rian had given her on the night of the dinner party, the ones with the little sparrow and the dainty little jewels on them.

“That’s one hell of a parting gift.” Cora walked into the kitchen and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of wine. “You have a lot of explaining to do, because I have a feeling Rian Hartford doesn’t give that kind of shit out to just any woman he screws.”

Sorcha looked at the earrings and bracelet again. She looked at Cora, who held out a full glass of wine to her. “I think I want more with Rian than just this one week.”

Cora gave her a sympathetic look, and said, “Honey, we need to get a major buzz on if we are going to go down that road.”

And for the next hour Sorcha spilled everything that had happened in the last week, and how she was digging herself a hole when it came to wanting a man like Rian Hartford.

28

Monday morning

Sorcha stepped off of the elevator and into the office of Rian Hartford. It was early, and she didn’t expect him for another hour or so, but already her nerves were a wreck. After drinking a bottle of wine with Cora last night, and then looking at the jewelry after her friend had left, she knew what she wanted to do.

Aside from the animosity that they’d shared these last six months, and that her being with him for that week had been less than normal in any sense, Sorcha couldn’t deny that what she felt for him wasn’t just a passing emotion.

She set her purse on the table, and the bracelet Rian had given her slid down her wrist. Her heart beat faster at the sight and feel of it. The sound of the elevator approaching told her Rian was early.

She had refrained from calling him after Cora had left to thank him for the gift, because she would much rather tell him in person. What surprised her the most, though, was that Cora backed up any decision she had.

She was a true friend, and if things didn’t work out, then Sorcha knew Cora would still have her back, and be that shoulder she needed.

She turned and saw the elevator doors open, but her happy mood turned sour when Beatrice stepped off in her ivory pumps and matching skirt suit. The word “cunt” slammed into her head as the other woman came forward.

“I’m here to see Rian,” she said with this snooty little voice.

“You don’t have an appointment, and I’d know since I schedule all of them.”

Beatrice flipped her hair and went to move past Sorcha, but before she made it a step she turned again and narrowed her eyes at her. “I did a little digging on you, because I was curious on why Rian would confront me on talking with you and slapping you. Normally he couldn’t care less, but still I was curious. I thought maybe you had something on him and that was why he gave a shit, but turns out you really are no one.”

“What the hell do you really want?” Sorcha had walked away once, but she wasn’t about to do it again.

“From you? I don’t want anything, but Rian needs to know all about you.”

“Rian knows everything about me. I work for him, remember?” Sorcha said with a bite to her voice. She knew Rian had done a background check on her, as would any employer. She wasn’t hiding anything, and if this woman thought she was going to bust her out on something she was sadly mistaken. “I have nothing to hide.”

Beatrice fixed her little ivory gloves and pursed her lips. “No, maybe not, but even if Rian doesn’t know about your breeding, I plan to show him what white trash really looks like.” Beatrice narrowed her eyes at Sorcha.

“You fucking cunt.”

The outraged gasp that left Beatrice had Sorcha smiling.

“How dare you,” Beatrice said, and reared her arm back, intent on hitting Sorcha again.

Hell. No.

Sorcha grabbed Beatrice’s hand before it made contact, and brought her own palm right across the bitch’s face. The slap of her hand hitting flesh filled Sorcha with satisfaction, but then she heard the ding of the elevator and knew Rian was about to witness this little cat-fight for himself. Sorcha pushed Beatrice back, and the other woman instantly put on a horrified expression. Rian stepped off the elevator, a giant bouquet of flowers in one hand, his briefcase in the other, and his long black suit jacket hanging around his legs.

He stopped when he saw them. “What the hell is going on here?” He looked between her and Beatrice. “Sorcha, are you okay?” He started to look angry, set his briefcase down on the floor, and took a step forward.