I moaned, as low and deeply as I had then. The heat building inside me intensified.
What about the memory of what I considered our first time? In the wine cellar, he’d pulled me down into his lap, and I’d ridden him to a blistering orgasm. I could still remember how he’d kissed me afterward on the couch, our sweaty, naked bodies still connected.
Tingling pinpricks scurried over my skin as the orgasm approached, and I squirmed on top of Macalister’s bed, my left hand balling the bedcover into a fist.
After all the times Royce and I had been together, still no memory compared to that first night in the library. When he’d pushed me against that bookcase, shoved his hand up my dress, and said I was his now.
I’d never stop being his.
The orgasm crashed into me. It broke like waves over a reef, the pleasure hitting me so hard it drove me into the mattress. The ecstasy made me contract and writhe like a wild, untamed thing, who fought against the heat ripping through her body.
When it finally diminished, I inhaled slowly and pushed to sit up.
Macalister’s mouth hung open, looking like he’d just uttered the word fuck and been frozen like that. My clothes were on the floor by his feet. Perhaps he’d dropped them in surprise. Beneath his suit coat, his upper body was tense, his hands fisted at his sides. He’d had to stand perfectly still to maintain control over himself.
The power had flipped between us, as had everything else. His gaze put out heat, but mine was icy cold. I was deliberate in my movements while he stood awkwardly. As I dressed, I stared him down, defiance dripping from my expression.
“I was in your bed,” I told him after I finished tugging up the zipper on the back of my dress. “I hope you enjoyed it, because that will never, ever happen again.”
EIGHTEEN
I DIDN’T SLEEP THAT NIGHT. Instead, I spent it planning, unable to go to Royce until I had something to soften the blow that his father had figured out his master plan, and how I’d come by that information.
Years of effort were just . . . gone.
It was the weekend, so for once I was showered and dressed before he was even awake. I stood at the edge of his bed and looked at him sleeping peacefully, not wanting to shatter it. After today, I doubted he’d sleep much for a while. And he looked so good with his tan skin against the white sheets.
He stirred when I sat beside him and his eyes blinked open, hazy with sleep. They gazed at me, and it only took a moment for them to sharpen with recognition. He slid back, propping himself up on his pillow.
“Hey,” he said, looking happy to see me.
I did it like ripping off a bandage. “Your father knows.”
Resignation washed down his face. “That I signed my shares over to you? I figured he’d find out.”
“No.” The lump in my throat made it difficult to talk. “He knows about the fraud at Ascension and your plan to call for a vote of no-confidence. He’s already told the board.”
“What?” Royce sat upright and stared at me with disbelief, his chest moving rapidly to keep up with his furious heart. As the words soaked in, his gaze drifted away from me. He was distracted, deep in thought and working the problem. “He told you this?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Why would he do that?”
I’d thought about that quite a bit last night and come up with two reasons. “Because he’s either hoping to scare you out of calling the vote, or because he thinks he’s already won, and it doesn’t matter.”
He considered both for a long moment, then abruptly threw off the covers and climbed out of the bed.
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
His expression was as hard as stone and fire burned in his eyes. “Fight,” Ares answered.
My heart picked up, matching the rhythm of his war drums. This was what I’d expected he’d say. “He told them you knew about Ascension and stayed quiet. He’s been campaigning against you for weeks already.”
“Yeah? It won’t fucking matter when the stock is in freefall. There’s only one person responsible for that, and the shareholders won’t accept anything other than his removal.”
Excitement made me rise from the bed and join him. “You only need four votes, and I think I can get you Scoffield.”
He paused. “What?”
“You wanted to know how Emily found out about the initiation. It was Mrs. Scoffield.” The rules were strict about this. Just like I’d signed an agreement to never talk about it, so had she. “If you tell him you have proof she violated her NDA, he’ll side with you.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Who else? Burrows? Geffen?”
“Burrows, maybe. Geffen will be . . . tough. I don’t know him like my dad does.”