Redemption (The Bet) (11 page)

"Terran, darling," she began, making sure to keep her voice steady, she continued. "You remember how we've been saying that we needed a night out?" elusive discussions they've had in bed, minutes before succumbing to the ardor of late night kisses and tangled limbs.

Terran carefully folded his paper in half, settled it against his stomach and gave the entirety of his attention to his wife. As lovely as a hothouse flower, even after so many years, he was still plagued with the need to ravish her where she was seated. Of course he wouldn't, such behavior was not permitted so openly in the manor, let alone in front of his impressionable son. Denying his baser instinct had done him well so far and now would not be the time to acknowledge them. "Of course." he smiled complacently, urging her to continue, although he had a vague idea as to what would come next.

"Well, here is our opportunity," she flapped the invitation open and Terran was only able to make out a few words, before it was close
d. "Miranda..."

"No." he said simply, stretching just a little to grab his mug while handing Ethan his own.

Sonya blinked. "No?"

Taking a moment to take a sip of the tepid caffeinated drink, he swallowed before answering. "Correct."

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

"Anything you say that involves that
 woman's name should not be acknowledged." Terran had learned that lesson years ago.

"You're being unfair."

Terran remained silent and continued to look at her.

"Fine then," she said, gathering the mail and coming to her feet. "I'll just have to go alone...or better yet," her smile was long and held very little humor. "I'll just take someone else. I'm sure I can find Julian Sullivan's number somewhere." Of course she was lying through her perfectly white rowed teeth, but Terran didn't need to know that. Sometimes a man simply needed the right incentives to get him to cooperate. Manipulative it was, but Sonya was always up for a little harmless manipulation...if the end results were good.

"You are not going anywhere with that man." Terran practically growled. Sonya tamped down a smile and counted to ten. "I'll accompany you."

"Thank you, love," she pressed a kiss to his cheek and grabbed her son's hand. "Come
, darling. Let's go and see if we can get cook to make us some of father's favorite cookies."

"Mine too, Mommy?"

"Of course, darling." Terran watched as Sonya shepherded their son out of the room, astounded that this woman, the very same who had just played him like a finely tuned Stradivarius was his wife and the caring mother of his child. It seemed like a lifetime ago since he'd first met her and even longer since coming to the realization that she hadn't been the vapid trophy wife of a deceased sociopath.

Sonya had come a long way, even her mothering skills had improved immensely. It was no secret that she hadn't exactly been the best mother to her firstborn, a failing that constantly weighed on her soul, but with the birth of Ethan, both Sonya and Terran believed that she could make up past wrongs.

Surprisingly it was exactly the birth of his half-brother that had brought Nicholas back in their lives. Months after Ethan's birth, a twenty four year old Nicholas reappeared at the manor, gift basket in hand and a simple nod for his godfather he went upstairs to see his mother. There hadn't been words of apologies, no loving words of regrets, just a small kiss on his mother's cheek and a caring smile for his baby brother before leaving for a business trip overseas the following day. But he did return months later, and in what turned out to be a bi-monthly thing. Nicholas always returned with a new gift for his brother and a kiss for his mother. He spoke very little, but his actions were enough. He'd forgiven his mother.

Nicholas did maturity very well, so wel
l in fact that Terran felt a certain pride towards his godson. When he was lording over his personnel, Nicholas was a completely different man, brutal, succinct, and demanding. But when he was with Ethan, everything changed. He was patience itself, sweet tempered and attentive to a fault, this was the side of him that Terran and Sonya had the privilege to see.

G
one was the volatile youth who’d been angry at the world and in his place stood a man who knew who he was, who continued to fight his demons and understood pain and sorrow. He knew the rewards of hard work and the efforts it took to run a billion dollar corporation with enough pressure to have a normal man graying at the roots. His godson was a brilliant man and Charles's child he might've been, but Terran knew that this man was his son, blood or not.

"Terran!" Terran sighed as he rose to his feet, the wife bellowed and of course the husband was expected to come running. Terran didn't run. Running was not something he was programmed to do, so at his leisure he made his way to the kitchen, the scent of cookies causing him to lengthen his strides.

~*~*~*~

From the cool interior of his bombardier, Nicholas gathered his Rhett long coat and tossed it over his left arm. He cordially smiled and accepted the briefcase handed to him by his personal assistant, before exiting the private jet
. Locating his driver just a few feet away from where he stood, Nicholas made his way towards him. Broderick Sterling, a man who had proven that he was more than apt to handle the job of protecting the Nicholas Grayson, despite his diminutive stature, had gained the position of both bodyguard and chauffeur, almost three years ago now.

Nicholas had yet to regret keeping him. He stood
at attention, spine ramrod straight while he held the door open for the young businessman. Nicholas spared him a brief nod, before sliding into the sleek interior of the black Phantom. His PA followed and sat across from him, the door closing behind her. Minutes later the almost inaudible sound of the engine purred to life and carried them away.

Samantha Harris, prim, blond and
the best damn PA he's ever had dropped a few blocks of ice into a tumbler, poured him a generous amount of Scotch before handing him the glass with a small smile. She'd been in his employ longer than Broderick, knew him far better than he was comfortable with at times and had the unnerving talent of giving him advice when he needed it the most.

With a Masters in
international business and mind far more brilliant than most men he associated with, she was probably the best of his assets. She was irrefutably beautiful, no matter how hard she tried to hide behind the shrewish façade of tight chignon, rectangular cut designer glasses and oversized, bland clothes. Nicholas knew the truth. He was after all a rumored connoisseur of beauty. So why hadn't he seduced her to his bed yet? God only knew she would follow like a lamb to slaughter, if her pretty blushes were any indication of her interest in him, all he need do was snap his fingers and he would have her.

So why hadn't he? Almost five years of knowing her, why had he never made a move? The answer was simple. Nicholas was no longer a
reckless boy who followed his cock like an explorer followed his trusted compass. He had pricey whores to ram through the mattress if the need ever struck him. Demoralizing virgins didn't do it for him anymore and besides, he viewed Samantha as a sister, and the idea of sleeping with her would be like committing incest. He hadn't reached that level of depravity yet and god willing he would be shot on sight if her ever did.

"Was the portfolio on Westport, helpful?" Her voice pulled Nicholas from his thoughts.

He lifted the glass to his lips. "To a point."

"I could
have him followed. Plant an emissary in his personnel to gather more information." It always amazed Nicholas that such guile could come from such an innocent looking woman. But then he remembered how intelligent she was and wondered what else lay behind those benign amethyst eyes of hers that he wasn't privy to.

Before going into his meeting with Westport this morning, Nicholas had poured over the brief information Samantha had gathered for him, which hadn't been much at all. The portfolio listed all the things Nicholas already knew, and the very few things that he didn't know were only advantageous to him to a certain degree. Upon meeting him, Nicholas's first impression of the
oil tycoon was that he seemed far too sure of himself. He hadn't allowed himself to be easily read, guarded in a way that Nicholas was all too familiar with.

In the expanse of their
two hour meeting, beneath well practiced business mumbo jumbo, Nicholas learned not to underestimate the man who seemed eager to strike up a business venture with him. Pride was one thing and foolishness another. With Devlin Wesport, he needed to tread carefully, this wasn't a foolhardy, curmudgeon who he could wheedle out of his stocks and blackmail into submission.

Devlin could either be a worthy adversary or a lucrative asset to the Grayson Empire---Nicholas had yet to decide where to place him.

"That won't be necessary," he answered dismissively before continuing. "How does your next Friday night look?"

Samantha
regarded him with a wary smile. His gaze bore into her, brilliant silver eyes searching her features for something only he knew. Unable to hold his probing stare for much longer, she averted her eyes, color staining her cheeks. "Uh…my Friday night?" Oh very smooth Harris, try sounding anymore cultured why don't you? She chastised herself as she cleared her throat. "Well I do have all those fun and lengthy documents to review in front of the TiVo. Ben and Jerry of course will be there, with a generous serving of Chunky Monkey. It's going to be one hell of a good time." and how many ways can she die of mortification she wondered. Hadn't her mother always told her she rambled too damn much?

N
icholas chuckled, setting his glass down he settled his arms on his knees, the action bringing him closer to a rather flush Samantha. "Well, do you think I could steal you away for a couple of hours to accompany me to an engagement party?"

"I don't know, Ben and Jerry are pretty damn tempting and not to mention the fact that they can get pretty damn jealous." Oh dear god, please strike me down now!

"I'm pretty sure I can handle them. I'd really appreciate if you did this Samantha, Westport has invited me and I'm only attending because it might present an opportunity for me. We'll attend strictly as business affiliates."

Like a cowboy reining in a wild stallion, Samantha tried not to show her disappointment. Of course it was only business. Nicholas Grayson was always about business, foolish of her to think him asking would've been for anything but business. "I don't really have anything to wear." she
feebly made her excuses.

"Which is a problem easily rectified." He countered
smoothly, handing her his cell phone. "Burke is on speed dial, call them and set up an appointment for tomorrow. I'm in town for the next few weeks, I can take you."

Countless women dreamed of this, yearned to be
Nicholas's flavor of the month. Samantha also dreamed, but her dreams extended far beyond the 'flavor of the month' status. She saw a Princess cut diamond ring on her left hand. She saw a lovely home in the Berkshires during the holidays and a sprawling estate in Ibiza during the summer. She saw kids, silver eyed dark haired children who were as handsome and witty as their father.

Samantha saw the unattainable, but each moment she spent in Nicholas's company, each moment she associated with him
was an effort towards her goal. She would become Mrs. Nicholas Grayson because it was the only thing that she'd ever truly wanted.

"Are you sure?" of course she seemed determined to accomplish her goal, but sometimes her own insecurities and doubts were her grea
test adversaries. She hated that she was painfully shy. Shy people did not become the wives of billion dollar men. She'd be wise to remember that.

Nicholas's hand on her knee
had Samantha’s heart racing. "Of course, besides, you deserve a night out and I'm more than happy to be the one to give it to you."

Give it to you? The man could give it to her anyway he damn well
wanted! Samantha twitched in her seat, swallowed a few times before opening her mouth to speak. "Yeah…yeah okay. I'll go with you then."

Nicholas's smile, all pearly white teeth and full of charm, almost melted Samantha to the fancy leather she sat on. Keeping her composure around him had become increasingly diff
icult over the last few months. Something told her if she were to throw inhibitions out the window this very second and pounce on her boss---her very sexy boss, whose voice could be classified as a weapon of mass destruction, she would not have a job to return to come morning.

So good-naturedly, Samantha Harris lassoed her secret desires and pocketed them for a rainy day when she could sit in her tub, with a romance novel in hand, candles all arou
nd and pretend that Nicholas was a strapping Viking lord coming to sweep her off her feet and do wicked things to her.

"Are you alright, Samantha?" the poor girl looked as though she would keel over any moment, Nicholas worried for her. "Maybe it's best if Broderick drives you home so you can unwind and rest for the weekend." Jetlag could be such a bitch; Nicholas knew this for a fact.

Samantha shook her head. "No its okay, I'll go with you to the downtown office, I have to pick up a few files anyways and my backup laptop is there." Any excuse just to stay in his company longer, she wouldn't see him until Monday and the weekends were always bad for her.