Villain (Hero 1.50)

“You’ll leave her alone,” he demanded.

Guessing there was no point in being coy considering he’d seen my desk, I asked, “Why are you here instead of Carraway?”

Lexington flashed me a wolfish grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Because I’m the nice one. Caine scares Imelda. He scares most people. Not you, though.” He took another step toward me, seeming to be cataloguing every little nuance of my face. “And if you’re not careful, that lack of fear could ruin you, Miss Ray.”

If I’d been smarter, I would’ve told Lexington everything there and then. But his threats cut open the wounds Dick had caused. That others had caused. How I was sick of men trying to bully me. “I don’t care how Carraway made his money in his youth, and anyway, there is no evidence to prove he did what Imelda told Dick he did.”

It was a slight movement, so miniscule most wouldn’t have noticed, but Lexington’s shoulders lowered ever so, just enough to tell me he was relieved. Which meant there was probably truth in what Imelda had said.

Interesting.

“But that’s not the story I found.”

Lexington’s jaw clenched and he cocked his head to the side. There was something about being the sole focus of this man that made me nervous and insecure. I put it down to the fact that I was alone with him in my apartment and he’d politely threatened me.

“I’ve seen you in the morning doing the weather reports.” He dropped his gaze for the first time, deliberately raking it over my body, before moving back up to my face. “You’re hard to miss.”

I kept my expression carefully blank, not liking his derisive tone. Not at all.

“How then,” he took a step toward me, “does a weather girl end up chasing tabloid gossip?”

But he didn’t give me a chance to explain, or to tell him what I’d already planned to tell Carraway. “Tabloid journalists are bottom feeders. Lowly scum on the evolutionary chain.” His upper lip curled in distaste and I hated that it was directed at me. Defiance shuddered through me but I held it together. Who was he to judge me? He’d had money and power his whole life. He didn’t know what it was like to be made to feel like a victim.

I flinched, goddamn him.

And he saw it. His brows drew together as he studied me and his tone softened ever so slightly. “Caine doesn’t know you’re digging, and he doesn’t need to know. Stop.”

He seemed to take my non-answer as agreement because he walked past me to leave.

What was I doing?

Just because this man was an asshole didn’t mean Carraway wasn’t still the answer to my problem with Dick.

I hurried after Lexington, and as he opened my door, I called out, “The story is about his mother’s death and whether the Hollands are connected to it. Alistair Holland. Was he there when she died and did someone cover it up? Is Carraway’s PA Alexa related to the Hollands? And if so, why is she working for him?”

Henry whipped around and barreled me back into the wall before I could even blink, anger emanating from every part of his body as he trapped me. Infuriating heat and expensive cologne engulfed my senses. “How much do you want?” he seethed.

Shock and fear quickly turned to disgust and disappointment.

How stupid was I to think this guy could help me?

How stupid was I to think any man could help me?

I was right before.

I needed to fix this myself. Like always.

“You people think you can do whatever the hell you like, don’t you,” I said, my voice hollow in my ears, “Throw money at the problem and it’ll go away.”

“Don’t pretend like I’m the bad guy here, Miss Ray. I’m not the cruel woman playing journalist, plucking guesses out of rubble and trying to put them together like a puzzle to wound strangers who don’t deserve the consequences of your poisoned pen.”

I wasn’t trying to do that, you arrogant bastard!

I gave him a hard, mocking smile. “How poetic of you, Mr. Lexington.”

“Don’t think seduction will work here,” he bit out, staring at my mouth, surprising me because seduction was the last thing on my mind. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not swayed by every pretty face I see.” He pushed off the wall and stepped back. “You will bury this story or I will bury your career.”

Hurt kept me pinned to the wall. “And here I was led to believe you were the most charming man in Boston.”

“Oh, I am. But some people aren’t worth the energy.”

And on that last well-placed parting shot, he marched out of my home, slamming the door behind him.

Feeling exhausted, I hurried to lock my door. Slumping against it, tears of anger pricked my eyes.

I hated Dick.

And I hated Lexington.

To spite him, I should give Dick the story. Clearly from Lexington’s reaction there was truth in it.

But I wasn’t a spiteful person and it wasn’t Carraway’s fault that his friend was a dipshit. And it certainly wasn’t Alexa Holland’s fault.

I’d still find a way to bury it, and not because Lexington had bullied me, but because it was the right thing to do.

I was in hell.

More of a hell than usual.

Dining with Dick.

Which meant I’d barely eaten a thing and was getting lightheaded on wine.

It was a few days after Lexington had bullied me at my apartment and I was no closer to figuring out a way to get Dick off this story and off my back. Instead, Dick’s boss, Jack, had asked Dick and I to wine and dine a possible investor in WCVB.

Mitchell Montgomery, the toilet paper king.

Yes, the guy made a lot of money in toilet paper.

It made sense, right? Everybody needed toilet paper.

And apparently the toilet paper king liked This Morning and he especially liked the weather reports. It was becoming clear on this little lunch why Mitchell Montgomery had earned the moniker, “The Asswipe.”

Somehow I’d gotten through the meal but to my horror, Mitchell had insisted we join him in the cocktail bar for a midday Scotch.

“You know what I was thinking,” Mitchell leered at me, “you should start wearing a bikini under a transparent raincoat while you’re reporting the news. That would be adorable.”

Oh yes, adorable for sure.

“Great idea,” Dick agreed.

Like that was a surprise.

I shot him a filthy look, the lack of food and three glasses of wine having lowered my survival instincts. “It’s a little demeaning, don’t you think?”

Dick kicked me under the table.

“Are you a feminist?” Mitchell scowled.

“Definitely.”

“You don’t look like a feminist.”

What the hell did a feminist look like? Ugh.

“Nadia is joking, of course. All of your ideas—”

“Lexington!” Mitchell cut off my boss as he yelled over our shoulders.

My shoulders hunched up around my ears at the name he called out.

Seconds later a familiar deep, smooth voice said, “Mitchell, how are you?” And then he was there, standing over our table.

“Coming from a lunch meeting?” Mitchell asked.

“Yes, with Carraway. He’s gone back to his office and I’m heading to mine.” His eyes shot to me but he didn’t give anything away before turning back to Mitchell.

“Join us for a little while.”

To my horror, Lexington swiftly agreed and slid in beside Mitchell.

“Lexington, this is Dick and Nadia. This is Henry Lexington. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Lexington, Dick and Nadia are from WCVB.” He reached over and squeezed my shoulder too hard. “You must have seen this gorgeous creature doing the weather.”

My attempt at a smile failed, becoming more of a grimace.

“Of course.” Lexington surprised me by throwing me a wide, flirtatious smile. “Nice to meet you, Nadia.”

It was the first time he’d said my first name. r />

In that moment I had to wonder what meeting him would have been like if we didn’t hate each other. To our companions, Lexington seemed charming as ever, but I saw the coolness in the back of his eyes when he looked at me.

“I’m thinking of investing in the station,” Mitchell told him.

“Ah, I see.”

“It would be a wise decision.” Dick smiled at Lexington. “Food for thought.”

Lexington chuckled. “Not my area of expertise. I’ll leave the investing in media to Mitchell here.”

“Well, I don’t like to brag but I’ve got some ideas.” Mitchell smirked. “I was telling them about one. Don’t you think Nadia would look fantastic in a bikini and one of those transparent raincoat things while she reported the weather? That would certainly increase the ratings, right?” He nudged Lexington with his elbow and I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I was trapped in the middle of the good ol’ boys club.

Something like irritation flickered in Lexington’s expression. “And what does Miss Ray think of that idea?”

“Hates it.”

Dick kicked me again and I winced.

Lexington studied me for a moment and then Dick, before he turned his attention back to Mitchell. He grinned suddenly and clapped the man on the shoulder. “It’s a goddamn awful idea, Mitchell.”

Surprise turned to more surprise when Mitchell laughed and agreed Lexington was probably right.

How did he do that? How did he criticize someone and get away with it?

They spoke for a little bit about our governor and local politics and then Mitchell turned back to me. “Now, now, we’re being rude and neglecting my guest. We should talk about things more on her level.”

Because politics weren’t on my level?