Always Mine (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 1) (11 page)

Sensing his mood change, Emily laid a hand on his arm. He expected her to ask the question he had no intention of answering, but she didn’t. She simply gave him a long steady look, then asked, “What do you call two jalapeños having sex?”

He shrugged. Talking about his family had soured his mood. If he were alone he would have shaken it off by diving into work. For just a moment he felt trapped.

With an absolutely serious expression, Emily finished the joke. “Fucking hot.”

A chuckle started deep in Asher’s chest.
How does she know what I need when we barely know each other?
He didn’t understand how he and Emily connected as they did, but they did. His mood lifted. He unbuckled her seatbelt and pulled her into his lap. “That’s worse than mine.”

Emily wrapped her arms around his neck. “In your opinion.”

He nuzzled her neck. This is what he’d sought—the sweet escape of her touch. When he was with her, everything else faded in importance and he was just a man spending time with his woman. “Do you always have to have the last word?”

Emily ran her hand through the back of his hair and with an impish smile on her face replied, “Yes. What are you going to do about it?”

That’s all it took for Asher’s cock to leap to full attention. He stood and carried Emily into the plane’s bedroom and tossed her onto the bed. “I know one way to keep you quiet.”

Emily rolled onto her stomach and purred playfully, “Only one? Now that’s disappointing.”

Asher laughed. He stripped off his shirt and crawled onto the bed beside her.

Challenge accepted.

‡

T
wo weeks later,
dressed only in one of Asher’s shirts, Emily sipped her morning coffee and tucked her feet beneath her on the linen couch of his 7th Arrondissement apartment with a sigh of contentment. The floor-to-ceiling window across from her was closed due to the chill of the morning air, but it framed a stunning view of the Eiffel tower. She had just finished checking her emails and was enjoying a few moments of quiet.

Asher was in the apartment’s office starting his day as he had every day since they’d arrived—by working until noon. Emily didn’t mind because it gave her time to answer her own business emails as well as cultivate the new connections she’d made in Paris. She paid bills, contacted artists and collection owners to discuss potential donations, and worked with Mr. Riggins to finalize the long list of what needed to be completed before the museum opened. She didn’t want to think about how empty her bank account would be when the project was finished. She preferred to focus on the amount of work she was getting done despite being far away.

Even if it had put her behind schedule, the trip would have been worth it. The trip she’d thought would last a couple days had stretched into two glorious weeks. Asher had brought joy back to her life. Celeste had been right. Her museum was important to her, but she wanted this, too. She wanted to be young, happy, and free.

There was no better way to describe what the trip had meant to her. She hadn’t known what to expect when she and Asher had taken what had started off as a sexual relationship and brought it to the city of love, but he continually amazed her with his attentiveness and thoughtfulness. Their grand tour of the city had begun with the Louvre, where Asher had delighted her by taking her to their tactile exhibit. It was hard not to fall a little bit in love with him because it was obvious he’d planned the trip to please her. They’d spent many afternoons walking through other museums or strolling along the Seine. They ate in restaurants with stunning views and even better food. They ran late to tours and dinner reservations when a simple touch or look had them stripping off each other’s clothing with an urgency that showed no sign of abating.

Emily was tingling and alive, and not just sexually.

Paris was more than living up to its artistic reputation. Emily closed her eyes and basked in the memories of where Asher had taken her.
Oh, yes, the Musée National Rodin
. The artist himself had lived a troubled life, but his artwork set a standard few had attained. Her knowledge of his works had been mostly through academic study, but photographs of the experience offered little compared to seeing his sculptures in person. Being in the same room as many of the sculptures that had inspired her was indescribably moving. At the Musée Paul-Belmondo, Emily tried and failed to find the words to express her admiration for the neoclassical, smooth lines of the sculptures. Belmondo was one of her idols, and she was brought to tears of happiness when she discovered a room on the first floor of the museum where visitors were encouraged to touch the replicas of his works. The fact that Asher had shared the experience with her made it that much more meaningful. He was a self-proclaimed art novice, but there were times when he would look at a painting and compare it to what he’d seen in her mother’s work or hers, and he would be spot on with his assessment of technique. It was no wonder Asher had become so successful in business. He was brilliant even when taken out of his element.

Just when Emily had thought Asher could not outdo the day before, he had taken her to Le Musée Valentin Haüy, a museum that honored the founder of Europe’s first school for the blind. Haüy had dedicated his life to the idea that the blind could learn to read with raised letters, and his ideas paved the way for Barbier, who created a system of raised dots, and Braille, who modified and perfected the system. Asher had set up a tour by the curator, and Emily was able to examine some of the world’s first devices for communication for the blind. Her time in Paris brought a deeper awareness of the importance of what she was trying to do in her community: highlight possibilities rather than what had once been called disabilities.

Emily felt herself falling for Asher, and it scared her. Although he had spent every day with her, it was impossible not to ask herself what would happen when they returned home. She didn’t doubt that Asher cared for her. He’d filled the last two weeks with immeasurable pleasure, in and out of bed, but there was an invisible wall between them. They avoided discussing the future, the fate of her museum, and how they felt about one another.

No matter how perfect their time together was, they were building a relationship on the uncertain foundation of denial. More than once she’d wanted to ask Asher if he’d canceled his plans for his site in New Hampshire, but she didn’t for the sole reason that she didn’t want to know if he hadn’t. She wasn’t ready for her time in Paris to end, and despite the last two weeks, she knew what she had with Asher was fragile. One word. One wrong step and reality would come stomping in to end it. Thankfully, Celeste seemed to understand that. Emily called her every couple days to update her, and they celebrated the wonder of Paris without Celeste asking the questions Emily had no answers for.

A glance at the clock on the wall revealed it was past noon. She closed the laptop beside her, stood, and stretched. As a rule, she didn’t bother Asher while he was working, but the news had predicted warmer than normal weather, and she was comfortable enough in the city to go for a walk by herself if he had to work longer that day.

Emily hesitated at the door of Asher’s office before knocking. He was speaking to someone and his tone was angry. Emily knew she shouldn’t, but she stood there silently and listened.

Asher’s voice boomed through the closed door. “Not possible this late in the game. We’ve invested too much over there. We have governments all over the region watching to see how we do. I don’t have to tell you what a gamble this kind of expansion is. We succeed now, we cement our place in the global market. We fail, we might as well start looking for a domestic bailout.”

Emily clasped her hands together in front of her.
Is he talking about Welchton? How could expanding into New Hampshire help him on the global level?
He lowered his voice, and she couldn’t understand most of what he was saying, but she did clearly hear him say, “I’ll handle this myself.”

Handle what?

Emily took a deep breath and told herself not to be paranoid. B&H was a huge company. They were probably expanding into many areas. When Asher had spoken about the possibility of relocating his facility, he had made it sound like an inconvenience rather than something that could threaten financial stability of his company.
No, he has to be talking about something else. He would tell me if he was still moving forward with his New Hampshire site. He said he wouldn’t lie to me.

Asher wasn’t happy.
Although his time in Paris with Emily had been amazing, it couldn’t last. There was too much going on with his company back in the US and abroad for him to continue to put off major decisions. He’d known that, but he hadn’t wanted to face it. Well, the truth was about to call him.

Thirty minutes earlier, Dominic Corisi’s personal assistant, Marie Duhamel, had called and provided Asher with instructions on how to download the Corisi encrypted phone app. It was designed in-house and was supposedly unhackable. Dominic had a reputation for taking security measures to the extreme, but his request didn’t bode well.

Asher answered on the first ring. “Dominic, to what do I owe the honor?”

Dominic got right to the point. “My people abroad are concerned with the stability of your site in Trundaie. What’s going on?”

Asher leaned back in his desk chair. “Nothing. The imminent risk was neutralized, and we’re moving forward with increased security measures.”

“You’re in over your head, and things are about to get ugly.”

Asher rocked forward in his chair. “That’s not what my team is reporting.”

“Then your team is either stupid, suicidal, or both. My contacts tell me the rebels are amassing weapons for a major assault. They’re recruiting mercenary soldiers from Boltatia. The man I gave you doesn’t have the manpower to fight that. You have to pull out.”

Asher slammed his hand on the table. “Not possible this late in the game. We’ve invested too much over there. We have governments all over the region watching to see how we do. I don’t have to tell you what a gamble this kind of expansion is. We succeed now, we cement our place on the global market. We fail, we might as well start looking for a domestic bailout.”

Dominic cut him off. “I’ll send you Bennett Stone. He was Special Ops in the Marine Corps. His cousin is my head of security, Marc Stone, and Ben came to work for me when he left the service. You won’t find better than either of them. He can keep your people alive long enough for you to pull out.”

Dominic’s intrusion into the dealings of B&H, along with how his view on things in Trundaie differed from what Asher had been hearing, confused and angered Asher. “I’m not pulling out and, although I appreciate your offer of help, I’ll handle this myself.”

Dominic swore then said, “Once a month I have dinner with Victor Andrade and your cousins. Maybe you don’t give a shit about that side of your family, but they care about you. They see you following in my footsteps, so to speak, and they’re worried. I promised them I’d watch out for you.”

“I have everything under control.”

“Bennett Stone will be in Trundaie by tonight.”

Asher shook his head in disbelief. Dominic was crazy if he thought Asher would let anyone handpick his team for him. “If I wanted a Marine to head my team, I’d hire my brother.”

“Would you ask him to take a bullet for you? Because that’s how ugly Trundaie is about to get. That situation will explode, and if you won’t pull out, then you damn well better surround yourself with people willing to die for you, because that’s what you’ll be asking them to do.”

Asher was silent for a moment. He had been in, and worked his way out of, politically sticky situations in the past. Rebels weren’t unique to Trundaie. He’d faced his share of them and won. He didn’t allow himself to consider failure, and that had always carried him through. This was the first time, though, that he was dealing with such a volatile opponent. Money usually paved the way to a truce. When that failed, a show of force had always proven an effective deterrent. However, if these rebels had seen his show of force as a call to arms, he might need every resource he could gather—even those sent by a side of his family he never spoke to. Asher considered himself a man who didn’t need anyone, but if Dominic Corisi was offering to watch his back, he wouldn’t let his people be slaughtered because he was too proud to accept the help.

“Tell Stone I’ll be in Trundaie by tonight. Have him contact me when he lands.”

“Done,” Dominic said. “Oh, and Asher—”

“Yes?”

“Don’t fly in on your own plane. When your enemy is taking aim, it’s best not to wear a bullseye.” With that parting piece of advice, Dominic hung up.

Asher made a few phone calls to organize his travel then tucked his phone in his pocket and stood. His mind was already racing as he put together a plan of action for the next twenty-four hours. He would meet with his team, Dominic’s man, and a couple of his local contacts who refused to speak to anyone but him. If things were as bad as Dominic thought, his security would require massive expansion. Asher had connections that could handle it, but it would mean calling in favors he’d hoped he never would have to use.