Holding on Tighter (Wicked Lovers 12)
up . . . The list goes on. I can’t get involved with anyone now. I don’t think Heath wants to, anyway.” She peered at her sister, whose brown eyes now looked sweetly empathetic. “I read some of the report you compiled about him. It’s been seven years since his wife died. If he was going to get seriously involved with someone again, wouldn’t he have done it by now?” She heard herself and groaned. “Crap, I can’t be angsting about a guy I hooked up with once. We don’t have a future together, and I’m okay with that.”
“Are you?” Karis asked pointedly. “He may not have gotten seriously involved with anyone else because he’s never met the right woman. Not saying it’s you, but how do you know if you don’t try?”
There was some wisdom to Karis’s statement but . . . “Because I’m not anyone’s perfect woman. I’m built for business. For my career.”
“You’re capable of more.” Her sister raised a brow. “I think the real problem is that you’re afraid to be like Mom.”
“I love Mom,” Jolie protested.
She did. But the idea of being dependent on a man or losing herself to one so completely that she forgot to be her own person terrified Jolie utterly.
The waiter set down their food and promised he’d check back shortly. Jolie dug in, hoping Karis would pay more attention to her tandoori chicken than to the turn of this conversation.
Nope. She shoved a bite in her mouth and kept the chatter rolling. “But you don’t call her on the shit you should. If I did that stuff, you’d haul me into your office and berate me until I admitted the error of my ways. It’s as if you’ve accepted that Mom is just going to do whatever she wants, and you still send her money and listen to the plights of her romantic life. I know you love her. But you don’t respect her. And you work hard to make sure you’re nothing like her.”
Jolie opened her mouth. Then she closed it. What was there to say when every word was true? She stalled by pushing the creamy chicken around on her plate. “Why does she get married and divorced over and over?”
“I’m not sure. She’s looking for something she’s not finding . . .”
“Perfection?” But Jolie didn’t think that sounded like her mother.
“No,” Karis agreed. “I don’t think she has unrealistic expectations. I mean, she puts up with stuff that would totally piss me off.”
Diana endured way, way more from her former husbands and ex-boyfriends than Jolie would. Of course, the moment any had stood between her and the success she’d yearned to achieve since sketching out her first designs at eight, Jolie had ditched the guy and spent more time on her dreams.
“Her self-esteem isn’t the greatest. But I don’t think she ever had any goals in life, either.” Jolie took a bite of the chicken tikka and chewed. “I’ve never seen her strive for anything.”
“Yeah. Are some people born without ambition?”
“Maybe. What about you? What do you want to achieve in life?” Since this was the most honest conversation they’d had in forever, she might as well see what Karis would say.
“I love my graphic art. Photoshop, Sketch, and Pixelmator all thrill me. I find an odd peace whenever I take my laptop to a quiet, pretty spot, turn on some good music, and just . . . be. Not everything I create is fantastic. But it’s my art. My truth.”
A subtle jab. Jolie enjoyed sketching but was a bottom-line woman. A childhood with too much responsibility had started her down that path. Her entrepreneurial spirit had honed it. For Karis, life wasn’t about the destination but the journey. Her sister knew what made her happy and Jolie envied that. Success was fantastic . . . but she was beginning to wonder if life was about more.
“We all have ways of expressing our individuality. It’s about being true to ourselves, right?”
Karis chewed on that, then grinned. “What you’re saying is that you make choices that I wouldn’t and I should back off preaching to you about how you should be relaxing.”
Her younger sister was proving to be deeply insightful and more mature than she’d thought.
Jolie nodded. “Just like I should stop lecturing you about ambition, I guess. But this thing with Heath . . . I never meant to hurt you.”
“You did at first; I won’t lie. But he wasn’t going to choose me. We both know that. I think I was upset you didn’t consider my feelings more than I was that he didn’t want me.”
“I should have been more sensitive. I got lost in the moment with him and . . .” She flushed.
“This talking?” Karis sipped her tea. “It’s good.”
“Yeah. I’ve been trying to look out for you and guide you like I’ve always done.”
“I appreciate it but I don’t need you to be my second mom anymore.”
“Point taken.”
“So, what are you going to do about Heath? Take him to bed again?” Karis asked with a devilish smile, then her mouth gaped open. “Oh, maybe not. I just remembered . . . He has a strict no-repeat policy. According to him, he’s Mr. Hit-It-and-Quit-It.”
Disappointment spooled through Jolie. Yeah, he might have merely been telling Karis that to discourage her but it fit Heath’s pattern. For the last seven years, he’d never stayed in any one place for long. He’d never stayed with any one person, either. Except Mystery Mullins. She’d been his employer and his constant—until she’d agreed to marry another man. But if Heath had never touched Mystery, maybe—despite ruthlessly rushing to her defense—he’d never loved her.
That possibility made her happier than it should have.
“We didn’t make each other any promises, and I have too much to do to pine over a guy, especially now. I’ll write him off as a hot memory and move on.” Jolie hoped it was that easy.
“Don’t you want a family?”
“I’ve got one,” she reminded. “You, Mom, and Austin keep me more than occupied.”
“I don’t mean parents and siblings. A husband and children. Don’t you think about that?”
Sometimes. When she let herself, which wasn’t often. “I’ll just stand beside you at your wedding, hold your hand while you’re giving birth, and spoil your kids rotten.”
“You’d better.” Karis squeezed her fingers for a sweet second. “But I’m hoping you’ll let me return the favor. I’m not sure the path you’re on will lead to the kind of happiness that lasts.”
With that sobering observation, the waiter returned to collect their plates. After Jolie paid the bill, they headed back to the office. The clock on her dash told her she had only a handful of minutes before one thirty. “I’m glad we took the time for a sister lunch. We should do it more often.”
Karis smiled as if she’d like that. “Yeah.”
As Jolie parked the car, she grabbed her purse and jumped out. “I’ve got to run before I’m late for my meeting with Heath.”
“Don’t want to be late for that.” Karis winked.
“I never want to be late for any meeting,” she clarified. But no denying that she really anticipated this one. Just being near him made her blood pump, her skin tingle with life, even if she had no idea what she’d say to him once they were alone again.
“Right . . .”
As soon as they entered the suite, Jolie looked across the open space and spotted a box wrapped in brown paper with a floppy lace bow on her sister’s cluttered desk. “What’s that?
“I don’t know. It’s the right size for See’s Candy.” Karis looked hopeful.
“Do you see a card?” Jolie pointed to the little white square. “What does it say?”
She’d expected the note to read You’re pretty or Go out with me. A romantic come-on of some sort.
What she saw seemed far more menacing.
“It says ‘No one, not even your sister, will stop me from enjoying your sweetness.’” Jolie frowned at the obliquely ominous note.
Karis was too busy tearing into the packaging. “It is See’s Candy!”
“Do you know who that’s from?”
“No. I guess it’s fr
om whoever sent me the tulips?” She sounded unsure. “It’s kind of cool that I have a secret admirer or something. I really hope he’s more Henry Cavill than Dexter.”
Jolie hoped so, too. But she refused to assume anything. Unfortunately, when she looked around, no one else sat at their desk. Gerard took notoriously long lunches, which promoted “maximum creativity.” Rohan often attended get-rich-quick seminars. Wisteria and her on-again, off-again boyfriend were apparently speaking today, so she’d probably met him for lunch. Arthur got together with a group of gamers to discuss the latest cheats, hacks, and strategies every Thursday around noon. In other words, no one had been here to see anything.
“Would you mind if I shared this with Heath?” Jolie pointed at the card.
“Yeah. Sure.” Karis handed it to her, then lifted the lid on the candy, inhaling the scent with a sigh of bliss. “Do you think it’s safe to eat?”
Her sister’s hopeful pout would have made Jolie laugh if the situation weren’t possibly dangerous. “Taking food from a stranger? I don’t think that’s wise.”
“It’s like grown-up Halloween.”
“It could also end up being Real Stories of the ER.”
Karis shoved the lid back on the confections. “They’re nuts and chews, too. I hate it when you’re practical. And right. Ugh. Show the card to Heath. Maybe he can solve this so we can figure out if someone sane gave these to me and I can have an awesome dessert tonight.”
Jolie had to laugh at her sister’s slightly goofy side, especially since her own genetic makeup hadn’t included anything like it. “I’ll keep you posted. If not, I’m sure you can drown your sorrows in some merlot.”
“Good call.” She winked.
Jolie hugged her. “I’m glad we talked. Now I’m heading to find Heath. I’ll let you know what he says.”
“See you soon, sis.” Karis kissed her cheek. “Have fun . . .”
Three minutes later, Jolie had gathered her stuff and headed into the conference room. When she opened the door, she found Heath inside, waiting. A barely banked fire lit his eyes when she walked in. He stood, watched her, his whole body tense.
“You’re here. Good.” He’d used that low, gruff voice on her last night and it had shredded her common sense. “Now close the door.”
***
JUST like last night, Jolie complied almost instantly, naturally. As soon as Heath heard the click of the knob sliding home, he relished the thought that they were alone.
For having almost no sleep and fifteen minutes to get ready for work, the woman should not look that scrumptious. A dozen different ways he could take her on this table flashed through his head then. He’d love to spread her out, push inside her, and stroke her deep until ecstasy claimed them both.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t touch her now. She seemed determined to keep the office strictly professional . . . but his thoughts refused to behave.
Sex with Anna had been like coddling a lamb. He’d held her and stroked her, reassured her of his love. She’d often indulged his desire for bondage and impact play but only if he served them up with gentle words and tender aftercare. Taking Jolie to bed had been like wrestling with a feral tiger. He had the scratch marks all over his back to prove it. Oh, she’d finally let him be the alpha—but only because it brought her pleasure. Orgasms certainly hadn’t made her more docile. Heath wasn’t sure anything would.
Surprisingly, he liked that about her.
In fact, he’d been inside Jolie last night for hours, taking her repeatedly with a hunger he’d been unable to slake. He’d had no chance to touch her since. Heath hadn’t expected the craving to return today at all, much less with such a vengeance. Now he felt itchy and restless, like an addict desperate for another fix.
Her uneasy expression yanked him from his thoughts. “I’ve got something to show you.”
He went on instant alert. “What’s wrong?”
She hesitated, frowned, and gripped something in her hands. “Maybe nothing. But . . . well, yesterday someone left Karis tulips. Remember, she thought it was you? It wasn’t, and we never really got back to talking about who might have left the flowers on her desk. Today when we returned from lunch, someone had left her a box of her favorite candy, along with this.” She handed the card to him.
He scanned it. And froze. “Any idea what this means?”
“I have no idea. Neither does Karis. If he means it as a romantic gesture, why does he sound slightly like a rapist making a threat? And why is someone dragging me into this?”
“Good questions.” They’d already covered the bases in Jolie’s life around industrial spies, disgruntled former employees, and jilted lovers. She was too sharp to simply overlook or forget someone who might turn dangerous or deadly. “Besides me, you haven’t warned anyone away from her lately?”
“I’m not her keeper. She’s always been free-spirited, going where the wind takes her, romantically speaking. I keep hoping she’ll learn from her mistakes and be more grounded.”
He probably shouldn’t veer into this territory when they had a potentially dangerous situation to deal with and he’d uncovered some troubling facts, but Heath couldn’t turn his back on Jolie’s concern. “Her mistakes?”
“The first was the wrestling captain in high school who thought it would be fun to see if he could get his personal number to one hundred before graduation. Karis was eighty-four. Apparently after plowing his way through most of the senior and junior girls, he started on the sophomores.” And Jolie sounded as if she’d still like to throttle the prick. “Then came the guy who claimed to be a singer/songwriter. Baggy pants, plaid shirts, scraggly beard, unwashed hair—the whole bit. He also apparently didn’t grasp that if he decided to move to Denver to start a marijuana farm with a new squeeze, he should break up with his current girlfriend first.”
Heath tried not to smile. It wasn’t funny, strictly speaking. But Jolie had a tart way of putting things that amused him.
“Most recently she gravitated to a guy she met at an anime convention,” Jolie went on. “Turns out, Ben was really a hacker who did a lot of questionably legal things. Thankfully, the government recruited him and he moved to D.C.”
“So Karis has made terrible decisions in the past, but no one you’ve tried to command out of her life in the past week except me?”
“Oh, I’ve scowled at a twerpy waiter and raised a brow at a leering UPS driver, but nothing serious. Maybe I missed something. I’ve been so busy.”
Heath paced. He always thought better when he was moving. “You have no idea where the candy came from, then?”
“No. Someone hand-delivered it to her desk. Did you see anything while we were gone for lunch?”
He cleared his throat. “I popped back to my place for a quick shower since we ran out of time this morning.”
Right on cue, her cheeks blushed a sweet pink. She pretended to stare down at the crisp, typewritten card with the oddly veiled threat. “What should we do?”
The whole situation gave Heath more than a little disquiet. Why would anyone send a gift to Karis but include a note threatening Jolie? The situation didn’t look inherently dangerous but he especially knew better than to assume anything.
“Keep the office safe going forward. I have enough security card readers in my stash to install them at the front door, your office, and the hallway to the building’s rear facilities—”
“You mean the restroom?”
“Do you really rest in that room?” he challenged.
“Fine. The toilet, as you Brits prefer.” She rolled her eyes. “Are you saying that everyone will need an electronic badge just to go?”
“Yes. I plan to equip everyone with a lanyard. They should wear their badge on their person at all times, so going to the loo will require no more extra effort than the swipe of a card. I’ll create the electronic access profiles today. I’ll need a picture of every employee so I can laminate each to its respective badge. Once the system is in operation, it wi
ll keep logs and generate reports of access in and out of the suite, so everyone must carry their own badge.”
“You’ll be keeping track of our movements?”
“Indeed.”
“So every time Rohan goes for a smoke or Gerard drinks too much water . . .” Jolie frowned. “I don’t know. Security is important but this seems like an infringement of privacy.”
“But if the system I’ve proposed had been in place this morning, Karis might not have received candy from a stranger. If she had, I’d already know precisely who had entered the suite and through which access point. I’d also have a log of when and where