Can't Buy Me Love (15 page)

His cheeks hollowed and his eyes appeared wolfish as his gaze traveled over her nearly naked body. Emboldened by his gaze, Meg walked toward Cole.

“What say we postpone our arrival time?” Cole placed his hand on the back of her neck.

Heat coursed through her with his possessive touch. Her core melted and her nipples hardened as thoughts of him peeling away her bustier, panties, and silk stockings raced through her mind.

Careful of her makeup he placed his lips as close to hers as possible without touching them. His scent, his body, his breath, all so close.

“Don’t think that I’ve forgotten about my question,” Cole said, his voice raspy and silken. One hand remained on her neck while the other traveled up the front of her thigh. His fingertips paused at the
v
between her legs and gently pressed against her mound. “Because I haven’t.”

Cole’s fingers pulled away the silk of her panties and his fingertips brushed over her curls. “I expect an answer.”

A gasp escaped over her lips. She craved him like an addict needing a fix. His lips so close to hers and still he held the back of her neck while his fingertips roamed her sex. Wetness came from her as his fingertips deftly danced along her now engorged clit. She was paralyzed by his touch. Her breasts heavy, she wanted him to free them, to kiss them, to bend her over the bed. Forget her hair, her makeup—she wanted him inside her.

Meg’s body trembled with pleasure from Cole’s touch. Just as she could stand no more he slid two fingers inside and pressed down on her nub. Hot desire tingled through her and her knees trembled. Cole held her steady and she rolled through the orgasm he created within her. Finally, finally, her body stopped rocking to his touch.

“My little Meggy.” His voice held gravel, and arousal filled his eyes. “I can’t wait to have you to myself tonight.”

She was drunk on lust and could think of no quick quip or comeback. Her body responded to his touch as if a puppet on a string.

“I’ll be waiting,” Cole said, and released her.

She’d have dropped to her knees if not for the wall where she rested her hand. He had every bit of power over her. Her body, her mind, her job, her future…

Her stomach clutched. As much pleasure as Cole brought, should their relationship fail, she couldn’t help but wonder what would be the equivalent measure of pain.

*

Tonight was an abundance of riches. Cole stood behind his desk in his study and through the window watched his guests arrive and walk down the stone path toward the fairyland Meg managed to create.

Tonight he’d officially announce the TBC deal, he’d make a statement about Meg’s promotion to president of TBC, and… Cole pulled the black velvet box from his pants pocket and popped it open. He hoped to finalize negotiations on a merger that neither side could refuse. Inside the black velvet box on purple satin lay his mother’s platinum engagement ring with a three-carat diamond. Her will was explicit; she was not to be buried with her engagement ring. This ring was to be given to Cole so that one day he might give it to the woman he loved.

Cole examined the fire in the diamond as it caught the light. He wouldn’t accept no for an answer. He’d convince Meg of his love if it took years. An eternity. He never failed at getting everything he wanted in business and he expected the same outcome in his personal life as well. He flipped the box closed and slid it into the top drawer of his desk. This was a private matter. One meant for later, after the ball, when they were alone. Thoughts of Meg’s body open to him once the nine hundred plus guests departed and she finally gave him his yes raced through Cole’s mind.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” Cole called. He walked toward the bar and poured himself two fingers of bourbon. He glanced toward the door and discomfort rushed through him. He didn’t expect to see Fallon McKenzie except in the background of this affair. Security was paramount but never a problem at the Comnet Charity Ball.

“A surprise,” Cole said, and lifted his drink to his lips. He’d offer Fallon a drink but knew already Fallon’s response would be a firm no.

“Mr. Jackson.” Fallon carried a black binder under his arm, and his face contained the tight seriousness reserved for a funeral.

“Is this imperative or can it wait until Monday?” Cole asked, already knowing the answer. Fallon’s presence and his expression indicated that whatever bad news he carried in the binder needed to be dealt with swiftly.

“This,” Fallon said, and held up the binder, “is something you need to see now.”

Cole returned to his desk and set his crystal rocks glass on a coaster. He held out his hand and Fallon placed the binder into it.

“I’m quite certain you won’t be pleased.”

Chapter Twenty-One

“Are you completely daft?” Prim wore a chiffon strapless magenta gown that accented her mocha-colored skin and killer arms. “You still haven’t given Cole an answer?”

Prim tilted her champagne glass to her lips as they walked from the kitchen to the formal dining room that could seat over twenty.

 Meg sighed. Yes, Prim was her best friend, and yes, they’d known each other going on eleven years, but Prim couldn’t completely understand Meg’s hesitation—Meg’s fears. Prim seemed so natural in Cole’s house, not at all overwhelmed by the opulence that surrounded her.

Prim leaned toward Meg conspiratorially while eyeing the original Picasso that adorned the dining room wall. “A man like Cole Jackson doesn’t wait for what he wants,” Prim said.

“He does if he wants it badly enough,” Meg said.

Prim caught her gaze. “Touché,” she said with a bit of surprise. “Aren’t you feisty tonight.”

“Nerves,” Meg said. A chill raced through her and it wasn’t caused by the weather. Outside, beyond the mansion’s walls, nearly one thousand of her peers mingled. She was about to expose her personal life to them by arriving with Cole. Fear and pride jockeyed for position within Meg.

Prim followed Meg into the formal living room. Decorated in silk and chintz, the living room made Meg feel as though she was in a museum instead of a home.

“How can you worry? You’ve got your career and now the most elusive—not to mention eligible—bachelor in America in love with you. Plus, he just gave you the best gift any man could give his beloved.”

Meg’s stomach dropped. “What gift?”

“Why, TBC of course,” Prim said. She ran her hand over the marble surrounding the gargantuan fireplace. “Why else give you such an extraordinary promotion?”

Meg’s breath caught in her chest. Even her best friend thought her promotion was a result of her affair with her boss.

Meg fought for air. A vice surrounded her chest. “Because,” Meg whispered, “I deserve it. Because I worked so hard for it. Because—”

“Well, of course you
deserve
it,” Prim said, as if Meg deserving her new promotion was never a question. “And work? My goodness you were nearly monastic the way you served Cole. You were a slave to his every whim. So yes, it was hard work and dedication and impeccable credentials. But it’s more than that, really, isn’t it? It’s a bit of a gift, too.”

“I don’t want gifts,” Meg said, her words rapid. “Not that kind.”

“Oh, Meggy, I don’t see why not.” Prim took another sip of her Champagne. “Who else could Cole possibly trust with the crown jewel of his empire
but
you?”

And there, presented by her very best friend, was the answer—so simple and so succinct: trust. With Prim’s comment all fear slid from Meg.

This promotion wasn’t a result of her skills in bed with her boss, but because of her business acumen and Cole’s trust in her. The trust that Cole had built for her over her consistency the past three years. A foundation they were using to build something bigger, more personal, and much deeper than any business relationship could ever be.

Prim got it and managed to not only articulate Meg’s worst fear but also how that fear was unnecessary because it was Meg’s very personal relationship with Cole that allowed him to trust her. This revelation was so obvious, one that Meg knew in her heart but had been unable to accept. Meg stopped in front of Cole’s study doors.

“Thank you,” Meg said, and gave her best friend a gentle hug. She needed Prim’s words—both the ones that frightened her and also the ones that finally gave her clarity. “I want you to meet Cole,” Meg said. She reached out to knock and Cole’s study door flew open.

“Oh!” Meg gasped, and then released a light laugh. Fallon McKenzie, with his hardened features, stood before her. “Is Cole—” But Cole now stood behind Fallon and his gaze, like ice, fell upon Meg.

Meg shivered. She’d not seen such a distant look in Cole’s eyes since…in what felt like forever. Meg had grown accustomed to basking in the warmth of Cole’s attention or, dare she say it, even love.

“I wanted you to meet my closest friend,” Meg said softly. She lifted a brow, hoping to get some sort of response from Cole that might indicate what caused his steely demeanor. He examined Meg as if she were a stranger. He turned his hard look toward Prim.

“This is Prim. Prim Morgan,” Meg said.

Fallon and Cole exchanged a look. Not dismissive, but one of condemnation. For goodness’ sake, what was going on? What had happened? Had someone died? Stolen every asset of Comnet? Meg’s heart steeplechased within her chest, pondering the possibilities.

“Your
best
friend, you say.” The muscle in Cole’s jaw twitched.

“Since business school,” Meg said. “I invited her we—”

“And where might you be employed?” Cole interrupted, his hard stare catching Prim in his sights.

“Metro Media,” Prim said without apology. Why should she apologize? Cole had many friends employed at various competing media companies.

“I need to speak with you,” Cole said, and narrowed his gaze onto Meg.

His wasn’t a lover’s request, but an order that a superior might issue to a subordinate.

“About?” Meg asked.

Cole glanced from Prim to her.

“A private matter. One I’m unsure you’d want to discuss in front of a friend.” He said the final word with such derision Meg almost stepped back.

She knit her eyebrows. “Prim, you can wait for me in the living room.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Cole said. “Mr. McKenzie will wait with Miss Morgan until we’ve finished here.”

A cold fear slithered through Meg. Fallon held out his hand and directed Prim toward the front of Cole’s house. Something was wrong—oh so very wrong.

“Cole?” Meg begged for an answer with her eyes but all she got in return was Cole’s unforgiving stare.

Chapter Twenty-Two

He’d been a fool to let down his guard. There was no one you could trust. No. One. Love? Loyalty? Wisps of smoke in the wind.

His heart ripped wide with pain. How many times must he be emotionally flayed before he understood: Never be vulnerable. Never.

“You don’t deny it then?” Cole flipped open the black binder to an email from Prim to Meg. “You’ve been corresponding with Metro Media? For what appears to be years.”

“If you mean emailing my friend Prim, then yes.”

She was so calm. So cool. So collected. Their entire relationship was shattering, blasted to smithereens by her deceit, and she sat before him with her hands clasped in her lap, as if she didn’t care. Perhaps she didn’t. Perhaps she’d never cared. If she cared at all, wouldn’t the anger sear through her as it tore through him?

The only explanation for her calm was that this was her plan all along. She knew the risks and assumed the possibility of getting caught in order to get what she wanted. Everyone would betray to get what they wanted. Even Meg.

“How did you get my emails?” Meg tilted her chin toward him.

Cole waved off Meg’s question with his hand. “We monitor company email It’s standard policy.”

“To spy on me? Your first assistant and now your…your…” Her lips trembled and tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t even know what to call myself now.”

“I think the word
traitor
might apply.”

Her eyes wounded him and his chest tightened with pain, but he would not fall for her act. That desperate
I love you, I’d never hurt you, I’d never betray you
act. She’d maneuvered and manipulated and managed to maintain the façade until she got exactly what she wanted. Where she wanted.

His uncle played exactly the same game. He pretended to love Cole, took Cole on trips, told Cole that they’d always be best friends. But when Cole needed him most, was his most vulnerable after his parents’ death, the very uncle he trusted turned his back on him and stole all that was rightfully his. Now Meg attempted a similar deception, but Cole would not be fooled again.

“So tell me, how exactly were you going to manage this little takeover that you and Metro Media planned?”

Meg looked up slowly. “Takeover? Have you lost your mind?”

“I may have taken leave of my senses for a while, but I can assure you after examining these” —he lifted the black binder and shook it at her—“I’m completely competent now. So tell me how and when? Was Stan Morton in on your little coup d’état?”

Meg jumped to her feet. “You’re absolutely mad.”

She marched toward the door but Cole leapt in front of her. He grabbed her arm and spun her toward him. He fought to keep control of his grip. She was so close. The sweet scent of her filled him and he fought his primal urge to shake the truth from her. She was Judas. As bad as his uncle, even worse. She’d used her body and her mind to weasel into him like a serpent in the garden.

“Tell me your plan.”

“My plan?” Meg bit her bottom lip. Red blotches sprouted on her cheeks and tears pooled in her eyes.

“You’re quite the little actress, aren’t you? From our moments in bed to your tears right now, I’d almost believe you actually felt something. If I thought you had a heart.”

“My plan…” Meg started again. She didn’t change her tone or acknowledge his hateful words. She appeared dazed, as though she couldn’t quite comprehend that she’d been caught in the act of corporate espionage. “My plan was to work hard and get promoted.” She stared into his eyes. “I guess failing that…had you fired me or been displeased I might have changed jobs, might have—”