Home > Promise to Keep (Vow to Protect Duet #2)(20)

Promise to Keep (Vow to Protect Duet #2)(20)
Author: J.L. Beck

“Come in,” he calls.

The door opens slowly to reveal a small woman with killer curves and long loose curls which brush her hips. My mind rebels as she draws closer.

“Sir, you called for me,” she addresses Kai.

He meets my eyes purposely this time. “She’s for you. I thought you might want to blow off a little steam.”

I grit my jaw and clench my fists on top of the desk. “What the fuck makes you think I’d want another woman? I’m married.”

He glares and leans over to brace his elbows on his knees. “Yes, but shit is crazy right now. You might want to take some of that rage out on someone else…”

The woman flinches beside Kai. Her eyes meet mine, worry etched in every line.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t worry about what he’s saying.”

Kai huffs and shoves off his knees to stand. “You need to get yourself under control. If you won’t beat the shit out of me to do it, use her. I paid her well enough that she’ll be happy to accommodate any request.”

Even though he’s staring at me, I don’t doubt his message is for her.

He leaves, and I’m left with a stranger in my office, whose floral perfume is so strong it’s threatening to choke me. “What’s your name?”

She gulps and then spreads her lips wide in something between a smile and a grimace. “Emma. It’s Emma.”

I wave at the chair. “Sit, Emma. I won’t touch you, and you can keep your money. My friend out there is an idiot.”

She sits on the very edge of the leather chair like she’s ready to bolt. “Well, what do you want me to do then? I can just get under your desk, suck you off…”

I frown and stare at her. “No, I’m good, thanks. As you heard me tell him, I have a wife at home. I don’t need your services in that way.”

After a heartbeat, she gives a little shrug and then scans the files on the desk. “What’s all this? Maybe you need some filing help.”

I scan the built-in cabinets on the opposite side of the room. Well, she did already get paid… a lot more than she would be for doing filing work. “Have at it. Maybe you can clear some of this shit off my desk for me.”

She eagerly drops the chain strap from her purse and leaves it on the chair. I study her, watching as she reads the labels but refuses to open the folders to discern the contents. Smarter than she looks, this one.

I open my phone and answer some emails. While I’ve been dealing with Valentina’s disappearance, I’ve let things slide as evidenced by the mess in my office. It’s time to get back to work, at least until the council makes its next move against me.

Twenty minutes later, Emma’s standing in front of my clean desk with her hands on her hips. She looks almost proud as she waits for me to acknowledge her.

Kai chooses that moment to saunter back into the office with a grin. Which slips off his face the second he studies the scene. “You used your hooker to do the filing?”

I shrug, still typing on my phone. “I’m not the one who paid her. You did. And I won’t be touching any other woman but my woman.”

Emma grabs her bag and shifts uncomfortably. “Do you need anything else or…?”

I wave her away. “You can go, but don’t tell anyone about this. The last thing I need is the working girls thinking they don’t have to work when called.”

She bobs her entire body in assent and rushes out of the room.

I close my phone and slide it onto the desk. “I didn’t touch a single hair on her head, and still she flees like I spent the last half hour torturing her. I guess my reputation still stands, even after getting married.”

I rub my hands over my head, mussing my hair. “I’m ready to go home now. You driving or…?”

“No.” Kai braces his knuckles against my desk. “You need to burn off steam, like I said.”

I stand and match his pose. “You don’t fucking tell me what I need. That’s not how this works. I tell you what I need, and then you run off and take care of it. There is no other dynamic here.” Though my tone is even and clipped, there’s no doubt he understands how close I am to giving him another beating. Deserved or not. Or maybe that's the plan… rile me up enough to take out my anger on him again since I didn’t go for his plan A.

“If you aren’t going to drive, I’ll take myself.” I dig around in one of the drawers for a set of keys. Ignoring Kai, I grab my phone and go hunt down one of the cars we keep on-site.

It’s a little conspicuous, a cherry-red Corvette, but it’ll get me home, so that’s all I care about.

When I climb inside, I expect Kai to already be gripping the other door handle, but he didn’t follow me this time. I don’t know why it makes something in my chest hurt… Is he giving me space because he thinks I need it, or because he’s given up on reaching me? Either way, he and I will need to discuss some things soon.

I peel out of the garage, my thoughts already on getting home, into my own bed, and seeing Val. We have a lot to go over, but she’s there… waiting… exactly where she should be. I won’t give up that gift, even if it’s got Trojan stamped across its forehead.

It takes no time to get home. The traffic of the early morning has already dissipated. The guards at the elevators snap to attention, but I ignore them and punch the penthouse button.

For the first time, it occurs to me that maybe Val wants her own house. A place like her father had. Sprawling stone, old woodwork, something classy.

The thought of a home like that makes me feel like a caged animal. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from fidgeting at the idea. Maybe there’s a middle ground. A way to keep everyone I care about safe while not forcing my wife to share her home with my business enterprise. It never considered it before.

The elevator dings open, and I step into the foyer. There’s no one around, and as I stalk toward the bedroom, I hope the cleaning crew is already finished in there.

When I push the door open, I sigh. It’s spotless. Even the bed is perfectly made with hospital corners at the edges.

Val, dressed in one of my shirts, is sitting on the edge of it with something white clutched in her hand.

“Angel?” I cross the room and kneel to catch her eye. “What is it?”

She folds my hand around the piece of plastic, and I glance down at the pregnancy test with a blue cap on one end.

“This is why I left… and we need to talk about it.”

 

 

15

 

 

VALENTINA

 

 

He looks stunned. Even more so than the night we met outside the bathroom at the season-opening ball. Not struck by lightning stunned but got hit by a Mack truck and run over stunned.

I swallow hard and wait for him to say something. He clutched the pregnancy test in both his hands, staring down at the printed words on the tiny screen. I’m shaking, dying for him to speak, to react, anything, because if he doesn’t, I might explode from the tension.

I tuck my shaking hands under my thighs and try not to squirm. In my head, I’m praying he understands what I mean by “the reason I left,” and it doesn’t start an entirely new fight with him. I’m so tired of fighting.

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