Stolen Kisses (The Barrington Billionaires #2) Page 4

  “You should have heard him. He thought he could scare me.”

  “The Andrades are very close with Dominic Corisi.”

  “Dominic is barely in the game anymore. He went the way of Buffet and retired. Plus, this isn’t personal. It’s business.”

  “It sounds personal, otherwise you’d walk away.”

  Shit, Clay knew him too well. “No one threatens me and wins.”

  “There has to be more to this. Who cares what he said?”

  Dax downed his own shot. He didn’t care about what Max thought. This was about how the threat made Dax feel. He’d vowed that no one would ever push him down or threaten him again. He couldn’t explain it to Clay without sharing things he’d spent a lifetime keeping to himself.

  Clay continued to dole out advice. “Move on. There’s no profit in this, but there could be a whole lot of professional suicide involved.”

  “You sound like you’re genuinely worried for me. Since when are you scared of a little confrontation?”

  “I’m not afraid of snakes, but I’d have a healthy respect for one I see coiling back to bite my ankle.”

  “They won’t be coming for you, so don’t worry. I appreciate your help with the resort, but this is my area of expertise. Takeovers are never pretty.”

  Clay shook his head slowly. “I want to believe you, but I’ve seen you head down this road before, and it doesn’t end well.”

  Dax flexed his shoulders in memory of the fight Clay was referring to. A decade had passed since then, but Clay brought it up from time to time as if it were a cautionary tale Dax could learn from. He didn’t understand that some urges couldn’t be reasoned away; they could only be contained. “That was my fight, too. Your mistake was staying.”

  “My mistake was thinking it was only three guys. No, you pissed off half the bar.”

  “I didn’t like the way they were talking to the waitress.”

  “I didn’t say you were wrong to stand up for her, you just don’t know when to cut and run.”

  “We gave as good as we got that night.”

  “But at what cost? Your face took a pounding, and I still have scars from that bottle-wielding biker.”

  Dax smiled without humor. “But we won.”

  Clay sighed. “Barely. Is that really the kind of fight you’re looking for again, but with your career? I’ve got your back, but you know you could end this now.”

  Dax rubbed his hands over his face. Clay was a good friend, and he was making sense. Dax wanted to say he’d walk away from Poly-Shyn. He didn’t, though. He was wrestling with an old demon, one he normally kept in check, and this time it was winning. “I’ll think about it.”

  Clay clasped his fingers on the arms of his chair. “So, have you been up to anything else I should know about?”

  Dax looked back at his desk then at Clay. He strode over, opened a drawer, pulled out the cologne, then placed it on the table beside Clay. “Kenzi Barrington sent me this. You have sisters. What does it mean?”

  Clay waved a hand in the air. “No. No. No. You are not going to battle with the Barringtons and date their little sister at the same time. If you’re looking to end up on the bottom of the Charles River, you are choosing the fastest way to get yourself there.”

  “I’m not dating her. I sent her some music to make her feel better, and this is what she sent back. What does it mean?”

  Clay stood and poured himself a second shot. “It means you’ve fucking lost your mind. You need to stay away from her.”

  “I have.”

  Clay downed the shot. “No, this is not staying away. This is the opposite of staying away. This is the romantic shit that is going to bring you real trouble. You want my advice?”

  Dax picked up the cologne bottle and tossed it back into a drawer of his desk. Normally Dax did. Clay was the one person who had consistently looked out for Dax’s best interests. That carried weight in most situations, but not in this one. When Dax asked himself why, he realized it was for no other reason than he didn’t want Clay to be right. Not this time. “No.”

  “Walk away from all of it. Her. The takeover. Everything.”

  “Or?”

  “Take up a religion. Any fucking religion, because you’re going to need more help than I can bring.”

  “Isn’t your motto ‘It doesn’t matter as long as it doesn’t bore me’?”

  “Ten years ago it was. I’d like to think I’ve evolved beyond that.”

  “And done what?”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Exactly.”

  Chapter Four

  Kenzi was wrapping a towel around her hair when her cell phone rang. Still damp from the shower, she walked into her bedroom to get it. She was taking calls from her family again so she no longer had to avoid her phone.

  It wasn’t a number she recognized, but she answered anyway. “Hello?”

  “Kenzi, it’s Dax Marshall.”

  Kenzi sank onto the edge of her bed and let out a shaky breath. “Hi.” That’s me, a brilliant conversationalist. “Did you get my gift?”

  “I did.”

  Kenzi cleared her throat. “Was it the right brand?”

  “It was.”

  He didn’t say anything else, and Kenzi’s hands went cold with nerves. What if he thought it wasn’t an appropriate gift? Had his gift been one sent out of pity and her response too personal? Kenzi’s stomach twisted and her mouth went dry.

  She wanted to extricate herself from the conversation but they weren’t actually talking, which made it that much more awkward. The longer the silence continued the less Kenzi knew what to say. She held her breath and waited.

  “I’ll be in Boston tomorrow,” he said gruffly.

  “That’s great. The weather is really warming up here.” Shut up, Kenzi. He didn’t call you for a weather forecast. God, it’s a good thing I didn’t get the reality show if this is the best I can do.

  “Come to dinner with me.”

  “Dinner?” Kenzi repeated. She didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to start to hope if this wasn’t what she thought it was. “Like a date?”

  When he didn’t answer, Kenzi groaned and flopped back on the bed, covering her face with one arm. He probably wanted to see her in person to let her down gently. Kenzi spent the next unbearably long moment wondering how to turn back the clock and unask her question.

  “Yes. I want to see you again.” The admission sounded like it was wrung out of him.

  If Kenzi hadn’t already been lying down, she would have fallen to the floor. She gasped at the pleasure his words sent rushing through her. “I didn’t think our first meeting had left you with a very good impression of me.”

  “I’ll pick you up at six. Wear something I’ll spend all night thinking about tearing off you.” He hung up without waiting for her response.

  Holy shit.

  Kenzi sat straight up and called Lexi. When she needed cheering up, Willa always knew what to say. This time, however, she needed someone who knew how to handle a man like Dax.

  Lexi crowed with delight when Kenzi told her why she’d called. “It’s Kenzi,” she exclaimed, “and she wants advice about a man.”

  “Put her on speakerphone,” Willa demanded in the background.

  “She called me, so obviously she’s found herself a real man and not one of those pretty boys the two of you normally discuss.”

  Kenzi laughed and decided two opinions might be better than one. “You can both hear this.” She started from the beginning, well as much of the beginning as she could remember, and both women listened quietly until she mentioned the gift Dax had sent her.

  “That’s so sweet,” they said in unison.

  She plowed on and said how she’d thanked him by sending a bottle of the cologne she’d smelled on him the night she’d met him.

  “Genius,” Willa said.

  “So hot,” Lexi said at the same time.

  “So, when he called today, I thought he might jus
t have been thanking me for thanking him, but he asked me out to dinner tomorrow night.” He didn’t really ask me out. He more or less ordered me to be ready and dressed especially for him.

  Kenzi fanned herself with her free hand.

  “That’s awesome,” Willa said.

  “He’s gorgeous,” Lexi added.

  Kenzi lowered her voice and couldn’t stop smiling as she said, “He told me to wear something he’d spend the night thinking about tearing off me.” And the way he said it made me want him to—more than I want to admit to even myself.

  “Oh. My. God,” Willa said.

  “I just wet my panties,” Lexi joked.

  “That’s disgusting,” Willa reprimanded.

  “Prude,” Lexi countered.

  “Porn-star mouth.”

  “Really? That’s the best you could do?”

  Years of friendship with them had taught Kenzi to never take how they spoke to each other seriously. They rarely actually argued, but they did love to verbally spar over almost everything. Normally their banter would have her laughing, but she had a purpose for the call. “Could we focus here? I think he likes me.”

  “Um, yeah,” Lexi said with heavy sarcasm.

  “But you shouldn’t let him talk to you like that. Wear a turtleneck and nun shoes. Make a statement that he has to respect you. That’s what I’d do.”

  “And that’s why you never get laid, Willa,” Lexi countered. “I have the perfect dress that will guarantee he’ll walk funny all night. Our photo shoot tomorrow was canceled. Willa, let’s give Kenzi a makeover. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  Hearing Lexi’s excitement made her date with Dax that much more real. There were things about herself that she’d never felt comfortable talking about, not even with them. When they’d first met she’d still been in a self-destructive place. They’d glimpsed some of it, but she’d kept the worst of it hidden. She didn’t want to talk about the past. She didn’t want to be the product of her past. She wanted to enjoy this the same way any woman would, so she blocked off a part of herself and kept her voice cheerful. “I like this guy. I mean, I don’t know him. I only met him when I was drunk, but what I remember was amazing.”

  “That sounds like every relationship Lexi has had,” Willa joked. “Ouch.”

  Lexi added, “Don’t listen to her. You called the right one of us for advice. At least I date. Ouch. Don’t pinch me.”

  “Then don’t pinch me.”

  Kenzi burst out laughing. Even something as wildly confusing as a date with a man like Dax was less scary when plotted with her best friends. “Can we compromise and come up with an outfit that is tastefully sexy?”

  “I’ll do your makeup,” Willa promised.

  “I’ll bring some outfits over,” Lexi said.

  She felt young, sexy, and excited about seeing a man she’d been thinking about for weeks. She pushed back the memories of him throwing her dress back at her on the beach and saying he didn’t care if she drank or not, implying he didn’t care enough about her for it to matter. She didn’t want to think about how he’d sent someone else to check in on her the morning after they’d met. No, that wasn’t who she was going on a date with. The Dax Marshall she was imagining was the one who had sent her the sound of waves because he knew they calmed her. A man who had seen her at her worst, heard her, and wanted to get to know her better.

  Which Dax would show up on the date?

  There was only one way to know.

  His flight to Boston was long and exhausting. Dax usually slept, but he was too restless. His mood wasn’t the best for sitting through meeting after meeting on next to no sleep. He met with several US department heads, checked in globally on a variety of projects and, in general, tried not to watch the clock. He told himself business was the main reason for his trip, and dinner with Kenzi was merely a bonus. He attributed his inattention to fatigue.

  He read a brief on the latest state of Poly-Shyn but tabled taking action on it. If he did move forward, he wanted the decision to be based on the numbers and not whatever was twisting his insides up. He forced himself to plow through back-to-back phone calls before conceding to himself that his office was the last place he wanted to be.

  Late afternoon, he informed his office staff he was leaving early. He didn’t explain and they didn’t ask. They were likely relieved that, unlike his last visit to the Boston office, their own workday wouldn’t be extended along with his past midnight. They probably thought he was off to a business dinner given how his state-side personal life was non-existent. Whenever he came to Boston, he was all business.

  Until Kenzi.

  He showered and changed into a new suit with a speed he attributed to efficiency rather than admitting he was impatient to see Kenzi again. He stood in front of a full-length mirror and for once didn’t like what he saw. His suit had been tailored to fit him by arguably the best men’s clothing designer in London, but it didn’t look right. He remembered how Kenzi had confused him with a hired bodyguard, and he could see why. He never dressed down, not even for a celebratory walk of the grounds of an island resort. He looked stiff.

  He removed his tie and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt. Kenzi was close to his age, but she had a younger air about her.

  Dax met his eyes in the mirror and shook his head in amused disgust. Look at me, worried if some woman will find me attractive. What, am I back in high school? She’s probably nothing like I remember her. Weeks of thinking about her had given his imagination free rein to enhance her beauty. There was no way he would find her figure as perfect as he remembered. Her eyes would never be as easy to lose himself in. The pull she had over him would soon be shown to have been exaggerated.

  For all I know, she’ll be drunk again tonight, and how I look will be irrelevant.

  Unless she’d been honest that night and it really was a one-time aberration because she needed to forget something.

  Which would also make how I look unimportant. If she’s scared or running from something, I won’t take advantage of that.

  In summation, there is very little chance sex is on the menu.

  Then what the hell am I doing here?

  He couldn’t answer that question, so he didn’t try. He turned away from the mirror and gathered up his wallet and phone. Seeing her again would prove once and for all that she was no different from every other woman he’d known.

  Only then would things go back to normal.

  He impulsively ordered his driver to stop a few blocks from her apartment when he saw a street vendor selling roses, but when the driver waited for instructions, he gave none. Dax wasn’t the type who brought flowers. He took women to dinner or to a social event. Sometimes the evening ended with a romp in her bed, but it wasn’t something he put much thought into. Sex was as natural as breathing, and he’d always felt sorry for those who had to dress it up as more to engage in it.

  Like his father who had married practically every woman he’d fucked. Vows meant nothing. Flowers meant even less. He knew many men who sent dozens of roses when they felt bad about screwing someone besides their wife. Skip the foliage and keep your dick in your pants.

  The idea of entering into anything that would lead to sending a forgive-me-for-not-wanting-to-fuck-only-you bouquet was enough to have Dax waving the driver to keep going.

  “Are you sure, sir?” the driver asked.

  “Yes,” Dax said firmly.

  The driver pulled back into traffic, and they rode in silence until he parked in front of Kenzi’s apartment building. He walked around to open Dax’s door and Dax got out but stood for a long moment simply staring at the building.

  Kenzi was a complicated woman, and he didn’t like complicated. She was troubled, and he avoided emotional situations. If she needed a soft shoulder to cry on, she wouldn’t find one with him. Life had hardened him. He had little patience for his own emotions, never mind anyone else’s. He studied the windows above and wondered which was hers.

  I need t
o know she’s okay.

  He walked up the stone steps, into the foyer, and pressed the button beneath her name. When she answered her voice was breathless and excited.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m downstairs.”

  “Okay, come on up. Unless you want me to come down. Of course you do. Why would you want to come up when we’re leaving right away? I’ll come down.” She sounded adorably flustered.

  Sexy and feminine.

  Fuck.

  Dax tensed. He stood there impatiently waiting for her like some schoolboy on his first date. When the elevator doors opened and he saw the little black dress and those beautifully bare legs that went on for miles, he swallowed hard. The higher his eyes traveled, the tighter the crotch of his pants became on his swelling cock. The neckline of the dress dipped low enough to reveal a swell of breasts, deep enough for him to wonder if she’d worn a bra.

  He groaned.

  I told her to wear something I’d spend all night wanting to tear off her.

  I’m a fucking masochist.

  Chapter Five

  Dax watched Kenzi so intensely she hoped she didn’t trip as she walked toward him. He didn’t rush forward to greet her when she walked out of the elevator, but there was a fire in his eyes and a hint of a smile on his lips. Kenzi came to a stop about a foot in front of him. She’d meant to stop sooner, but as she tilted her head back to look up at him, she admitted to herself he was a temptation she wanted to give in to.

  She bit her bottom lip and waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, she enjoyed the way her body hummed simply by being close to him. Exactly as she remembered, but better. There was no confusion this time. No wondering if how she felt was being enhanced by inebriation. No, regardless of how little sense it made, her body was one hundred fifty percent positive this man was exactly what she needed.

  “We should go,” he said in a husky voice as if he knew what she was thinking, and his mind was full of the same decadent images of them together.