Mistress to the Beast (2 page)

Good. It was better than pity or revulsion. He should have known this would happen when Jessica decided to visit him at his office instead of coming to his home as she normally did. More witnesses. He’d known it was a matter of time before she left him like the others, but it didn’t ease the pain searing within his chest. Did he have the right to be this angry or should he be grateful for the time she had given him? After all, who would want to stay with a disfigured freak like him? Still, a deal was a deal.

“Hunter, please don’t make this more difficult for me than it already is.”

“Why should I make this easy for you? Do you think things have been a piece of cake for me? Look at my face!”

She shook her head, dark red hair swirling around her face. “Don’t make me. I can’t…I can’t handle it. I thought I could but the money isn’t worth it. I—” She broke off with a sob. There were a number of hurtful things she could have said, but this by far was the worst.

“Just go,” he whispered, not bothering to hide his disgust in himself or with her. He should have been used to this by now, but it hurt as bad as it did the first time. Lowering his head, Hunter waited for her to leave. When he didn’t hear the sound of retreating feet, he roared, “What the hell are you still standing there for?”

A squeak escaped her lips. “But you said you’d take care of my bills this month.”

The greedy little bitch. It would have served her right if he told her where to go, but the faster she was out of his life, the better.

“Forward them to my personal assistant and they’ll be taken care of.”

“Thank you.” Jessica smiled, moving closer to his desk as if to shake his hand, but Hunter narrowed his eyes, not bothering to hide the rage building within him. She stopped in her tracks and nodded. “Uh, thank you. I’m sorry things didn’t work out for us.”

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“Save your lies for the next sap.”

Wisely she didn’t respond.

When the door clicked shut, Hunter released a frustrated growl. With a sweep of his arm, he knocked everything off his desk, computer monitor and all. The items went crashing to the ground with a loud clatter.

Seconds later, the executive vice president, his second in command, opened his door and stuck his head in the office. “What the hell happened here?” Thomas inquired as he surveyed the mess Hunter had made.

No one in the Ramsey’s organization dared talk to Hunter this way or question him, except Thomas. His years of service and friendship had given him that right. Thomas was also the only one who still looked Hunter directly in the face without flinching.

“What does it look like happened?” Hunter sneered, not wanting to discuss the loss of yet another lover.

“It looks like an adult has thrown a childish temper tantrum. I passed by your latest paramour in the hallway. I take it by the clutter you’ve made, you two are finished?”

“Nice guess work, Sherlock. What are you going to tell me next? That it’s Tuesday?”

“If you ask me, you’re better off without her. And you should have known better before getting involved with her in the first place. The only thing she was interested in was your wallet.”

Sometimes Hunter wished Thomas wasn’t so open with his thoughts. His situation was humiliating enough as it was with the reminder. “But I didn’t ask you, so keep your damn opinions to yourself.”

“Someone needs to open your eyes to a few home truths.”

Hunter exhaled slowly, wishing his friend would just go away. “And I suppose you’ve appointed yourself to the task?”

“I’m only saying this because I care.”

Hunter wasn’t in the mood to listen. He turned his swivel chair around to face the window. “Don’t you think I know what Jessica was after? Maybe that’s why I chose her 12

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Mistress to the Beast

in the first place. At least that way there’d be no pretense of an emotion that doesn’t exist.”

Thomas released a sigh. “Why do you even bother with these women in the first place? You may get a temporary bedmate, but is it really satisfying if you have to pay for them? Jessica was little better than a prostitute.”

“I believe the term is called mistress.”

“Whatever you want to call it, you basically had to pay for her time. You can do better than that, Hunter.”

Hunter turned around then to face Thomas. “And what would you have me do? Stroll into a party and chat up some random woman as if I don’t look like a monster?”

Thomas rolled his eyes heavenward. “You’re not a monster, and if you allowed someone to take the time to get to know you, then maybe these situations could be avoided.”

“Considering you have no clue what I’m going through, it’s easy for you to say.”

Thomas raked his fingers through his dark hair. “Look, if you’re going to have another pity party then you’re going to be the only guest.”

“Then fucking leave! I didn’t ask you to come in here to begin with!”

Thomas advanced, stopping when he stood directly in front of the desk. “I should, but someone has to deal with your disgruntled ass. Hunter, I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to go through what you have, but it can’t be healthy to cut yourself off from the rest of the world. You stay holed up in that damned house of yours for days at a time, only coming to the office occasionally. And when you do show up here, you make such a big production of slipping in like a damn thief in the night because, heaven forbid, someone might catch a glimpse of the face you keep covered with hair. Did you ever think people are only reacting to what you project?”

“I don’t—”

Thomas held up his hand. “Let me finish. You’ve had your say so I’m going to have mine. You refuse to meet with our business associates and it makes people wonder about your competency to run Ramsey’s.”

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Eve Vaughn

“Do you have any complaints about how I conduct business?”

“That wasn’t my point and you know it. Do you know what your problem is?”

Hunter’s fingers curled into fists as he struggled to hold on to his threadbare temper.

“No, but I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.”

“You’re being an ass. Don’t you realize how lucky you are to be alive? You might have a few scars, but at least you still have your life.”

This had to be the hundredth time Thomas had delivered this speech and it was just as annoying this time around. “Saying it’s a few scars is an understatement. And maybe I would have been better off dead, at least then I wouldn’t have to go through life looking like a circus sideshow attraction.”

Thomas shook his head. “You sound incredibly ridiculous right now. Get over yourself. It’s time to come out of hiding.”

Hunter pulled back his hair and stared defiantly at his friend. “Care to take another look and revise your expert opinion?” His scars were the very reason he refused to look in any mirrors and why he avoided them like the plague. God’s little joke on him had been to leave one side of his face intact while the other side was a hideous roadmap of imperfections. The doctors had offered skin grafting, but had informed him that while some of the damage could be corrected, he would still never be the same as he was before.

There was a time when Hunter had been considered handsome. He’d even been featured in a local paper as one of New York’s sexiest bachelors. He’d taken his looks for granted, but the accident changed everything. Now, he couldn’t walk down the street without making small children cry. The humiliation of dealing with people’s reactions made him isolate himself and withdraw from the social whirl he’d once enjoyed.

The most humbling aspect of life after the accident was the loneliness. Were it not for Thomas forcing him to handle his responsibility to Ramsey’s, Hunter would probably never bother leaving his home. Even the women he’d set up as mistresses couldn’t stomach him for long, as demonstrated by Jessica.

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He shouldn’t bother, but goddammit, he was still a man with needs. Masturbation would only satisfy him to a point, but what choice did he have other than choosing some random woman off the street. The very thought disgusted him. At least when he had a steady lover, they were exclusive with him and he’d always verified their clean bills of health before entering into an agreement. Perhaps it was a part of his life he’d have to let go. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with the constant rejection, because it was slowly killing him on the inside.

Some would probably say he was getting exactly what he deserved. Remembering what an ex-lover had told him a few years back, he closed his eyes.

He’d just ended their affair with his customary parting gift of diamond earrings and a matching tennis bracelet. “You’re a bastard, Hunter Jamison, and one day you’re going to get your comeuppance. You’re going to fall for a woman who won’t love you back, and by God, I wish I could be there to see it!” his ex had cried.

Hunter, in his cocky insolence, had laughed in her face before dismissing her from his thoughts. He’d found her words amusing though. What did he need with love? He had wealth, power, and access to unlimited pussy. Love was for losers. Hadn’t he learned that particular lesson well enough from his mother who went through husbands like most people did underwear and his father who spent years pining for a woman who didn’t care for anyone but herself?

Hunter had yet to find a woman worthy of the emotion
if
it even existed. Still, it didn’t mean he wanted to go without companionship. Who would?

Thomas finally threw his arms up in the air in his exasperation. “I wish you’d get over yourself, Hunter. Yes, you’re scarred, but you still have your health and your life.

You have a successful business and several possessions most people would kill for. How about being thankful for the things you do have?”

“Because those things don’t mean a thing as long as I look like this.” Hunter pointed to his face.

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Eve Vaughn

Thomas shook his head, annoyance etched on every line of his round face. “I give up. Have it your way. You’re a disfigured monstrosity who no one will ever love. There.

Is that what you’d rather hear?”

Hunter shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

“I hope you really don’t believe that.”

“I do.”

“Then I feel sorry for you.”

“I didn’t ask for your pity, nor do I want it.”

“Fine. I’ll leave you to your misery.”

Hunter knew Thomas meant well. Regardless of the fact they didn’t see eye to eye on this particular subject, he didn’t want his friend to leave on this note. “Wait. Don’t leave. You obviously had a reason for coming to my office in the first place. What’s up?”

Thomas looked like he was heavily debating staying or going, but finally took a seat across from Hunter’s desk.

“We’re still having problems with the last owner on Hudson Street. He still refuses to sell. According to the attorneys, he’s had some health problems of late and his daughter is making most of the decisions for him.”

This was the one project that Hunter still had interest in. It had been his baby from the beginning. “She’s crazy if she thinks we’ll offer more money. It doesn’t have much worth now that everyone else has sold.”

“Exactly. We’ve already initiated plan B. We have a couple council members who owe us some favors. I believe the property will be ours before the year is out, but we can at least start building around it.”

“Good, I think—” Loud shouting on the other side of the door greeted Hunter’s ears, making him wonder what the hell was going on out there.

“You can’t go in there! Oww! I’m calling the police!” That sounded like his usually unflappable personal assistant.

“Fine. Do what you have to do, and so will I,” answered someone whose voice Hunter didn’t recognize. A woman’s voice.

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Seconds later the door flew open, and standing in the doorway was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.

And she looked pissed.

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Eve Vaughn

The moment Lila stepped into her adversary’s office, all the courage she’d summoned for this confrontation flew out the window. Staring at her with the greenest eyes she’d ever seen was the legend himself. Hunter Jamison.

Her feet wouldn’t carry her forward, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man sitting behind the large oak desk in the corner of the office.

“Mr. Jamison, I tried to keep her out, but she assaulted me. I’ve called the police and security is on their way upstairs.” The woman who’d tried to restrain her entered the office. She sounded out of breath. Probably from chasing Lila, who’d run past her.

Lila didn’t set out to give the woman a hard time, but she was determined to have this meeting come hell or high water. Turning around to face her accuser, Lila pasted a smile on her face, and delivered her next line in a saccharine sweet tone. “I didn’t assault you. If my heel connected with your foot, it was because you were standing in my way. I can’t help if you don’t understand the meaning of the words ‘excuse me’.”

The woman gasped, her mouth opening and then shutting as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Lila twirled back around and noticed a stocky dark-haired man with glasses standing by the boss man. Had he been there already? He must have, but Lila only had eyes for Mr. Jamison.

Refocusing her attention on the still figure, she noticed a thick mane of wavy blond hair resting in a cascade around his shoulders and obscuring most of his face. The only features she could really make out were those arresting eyes, a long blade of a nose, and thick lips, which were now pulled down into a frown.

“Miss, whoever the hell you are, you’re going to have to leave,” the dark-haired man spoke.

Lila spared him a brief glance, daring him to touch her. “I’m not going anywhere until
he
agrees to cease and desist!” She jerked her thumb in Jamison’s direction and 18