The Deception (Filthy Rich Americans 3) - Page 80
“We won’t be able to get Lynch.” He was Macalister’s right hand and would follow his boss to the ends of the earth. “What about Powell?”
Royce made a face as he considered HBHC’s chief operating officer. “Doubtful.”
“That leaves Shaunessy and Vanderburgh,” I said. “You can get them.”
It wasn’t lost on me I’d spent weeks learning about the men, so I could prove my loyalty and respect for the board, and now I was using it to try to topple it from the inside.
If Royce was unsure, none of it showed. He looked confident and ready for battle.
But a thought leapt into his mind, making him wrap an arm around my waist and draw me in. “Marist.” His eyes searched mine, and he turned serious. “What did you have to do to get him to tell you this?”
“I was worried he’d figured your plan out, but I had to be sure, so I did what I had to.” I sucked in a preparatory breath. “It was win at all costs, so I made a deal.”
Royce’s nostrils flared with alarm. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” I said on a broken voice, “but I can’t tell you what it was—not today. I love you, and I promise I will tell you everything, but you need to trust me. If you’re going to beat him, right now you can’t worry about me. You have to focus.”
Royce’s eyes went wider than the Wall Street bell. “Marist, what did he do?”
“Did you hear what I just said?” I gripped his face in my hands. “Please. We have to make him think he’s won. You want to destroy him? This is how we do it.”
“Jesus, just tell me.”
But I couldn’t. It was Pandora’s Box. “It’s over. Done. All knowing would do is distract you, which is exactly what he wants.”
His hands abandoned me so they could ball into fists, and he stomped toward the door, growling it with pure malice. “Fine. I’ll go ask him.”
“Stop,” I cried. “First off, you’re not even dressed. And second, you can’t.”
He turned in place, giving me a defiant look, and since he was only wearing a tight pair of gray underwear, I saw him in all his glory. Anger corded his muscular chest and twisted the tendons of his arms. He was more beautiful and perfect than a statue of Adonis.
But he wasn’t Adonis, he was Ares, and his tone was loaded with aggression and indignation. “What do you mean, I can’t?”
“He won’t tell you. And if you go after him, he’ll say he has cause to pull you off the board.”
And it would be impossible to call for a vote then.
There was rage flowing through his blood, but as the cold realization fell on him, I watched that fury become caged inside his stiff body. He yearned for reckless battle, but the strategic side of him was stronger.
“I know you want war,” I said, “and I promise you it’s coming, but we have to strike when it’s right.”
“So, I’m not supposed to do anything? Just sit around in the fucking dark?”
“I know all too well that it’s not easy,” I said. “You put me through that once. But believe me, I will tell you when it’s all over and this is for the best. Trust me.” Could he see how important this was? “And know that I’m yours, completely. I didn’t give him what he wanted, Royce.”
Anxiety twisted on his face. The desire to know was fierce, but I was determined to blot it out with a different desire.
I grabbed the hem of my dress and lifted, stretched it up over my head, and tossed it away. “I have some ideas on what to do while we wait.”
With the dress gone, I stood before him in the most expensive French lingerie I’d ever owned, purchased for our honeymoon. The mesh and lace were a creamy beige color and the exact shade of my skin tone. It hid nothing, not the dusty color of my nipples or the bare slit between my legs. It was like an optical illusion. Only the faint outlines and the pattern of the lace showed on the bra and panties. I looked naked otherwise.
Yearning flooded through me, and I hoped at least a fraction of it showed on my face. “I need you to do all the things to me only my husband can.”
My request gave his anger a place to go, and it channeled eagerly toward release. Royce’s swift approach was accompanied by a dark, intense look that announced he’d vanquish anyone who stood in the way of what he wanted—and the thing he wanted most right now was me.
He crushed his lips to mine in a kiss that didn’t care if I liked it or not. He licked into my mouth with a harsh, dominating tongue and filled his rough hands with my flesh. God, there wasn’t anything else like it. He treated me as an opponent. One who he’d show no mercy.
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