The Seduction 3 (3 page)

My head spins. “I...”
I start, uselessly.

Then I feel a calming
hand on my arm. “Gentlemen,” Vaughn speaks up, sounding amused.
“It’s a little early for the Spanish Inquisition. My daddy told
me never to talk business without a drink in my hand.”

The men chuckle. “Your
father had the right idea,” Chad agrees. “How about it, Brent?”

“Of course.” Brent
forces a smile. “Albert!”

They turn to order
drinks. Vaughn bends his head to whisper in my ear. “Relax,” he
orders me.

“But what can I tell
them?” I whisper back, still panicked.

“Just keep up the
small-talk, and remind them that the management structure is still
unchanged. They want to know there’s a steady hand at the wheel,
that’s all.”

I take a deep breath,
steeling myself as another staff member comes out to whisper in
Brent’s ear.

“Dinner is served,”
he announces. “Keely, after you.”

I meet his stare with
an even look, then walk calmly to the main doors. He thinks he can
play games with me, he’s got another thing coming.

“Oh, Keely?” his
voice comes, laughing. “Other door.”

This is going to be a
long night.

* * *

We take our seats for
dinner in the huge dining hall. Ceiling-high blue silk curtains sweep
to the polished wooden floors, and the marble slab of a dining table
could seat twenty people, easy. Staff serve the appetizers, a fancy
salad arranged on huge plates with drizzles of sauce. It looks
delicious, but my stomach is tied up in knots.

I look around, trying
to get a grip on my nerves. Brent is at the head of the table, with
his siblings on either side. Riley lounges back, looking relaxed, but
Isabelle has a bored, haughty expression on her face. She sips
champagne, looking gorgeous and polished with her hair swept back and
a pair of diamond earrings dangling over a chic silk dress.

I knew I should have
dressed up.

I’ve been seated way
down the other end of the table, with Vaughn on my right side, and
one of the investors across from me. I pick at my salad, not even
taking a single bite before Brent speaks up.

“So, now that we’ve
all got some booze in our glasses, it’s time to hear from you,
Keely.” He folds his hands, looking stern. “I should tell you,
we’re considering a takeover bid for Ashcroft Industries. Hopefully
you’ll be able to convince these gentlemen why they should put
their faith, and millions of dollars, in your leadership.”

“I’ve got to say,
we’re worried,” Chad agrees. “Ashcroft was the life and soul of
the company, and now he’s gone, we’re all having doubts about the
future. What can you tell us to put our minds at ease?”

I brace myself.
“Nothing.”

He stares, shocked. The
other men put down their forks. “Nothing?”

“Yet,” I add
firmly. “I’m going to be honest with you. I could sit here and
tell you I’ve got a handle on things, but that would be a lie. It’s
been a few days since the will was verified, and we all know Ashcroft
Industries is a sprawling corporation. It’s going to take me time
to meet with everyone and figure out the lay of the land. But you can
rest assured, I’m not going to make any snap decisions.”

Chad looks thoughtful.
“I appreciate your honesty, little lady.”

“Honesty doesn’t
change the fact that Keely has no background in business,” Brent
interrupts. “I hate to admit it, but I don’t want to mislead any
of you. She didn’t go to Harvard and Wharton like me,” he adds
with a smug laugh.

“I may not have a
fancy MBA, but neither did Ashcroft when he built this company,” I
shoot back. “Look, I inherited the title of CEO and the majority
shares, but I’m not the company -- the workers are. From the
management all the way down to shop floor workers, they’re the ones
who have made Ashcroft Industries into the company it is today, and
they’re all still there.”

I look around the
table, making eye contact with all the investors. “I can’t stop
you from pulling your investments and bolting right now, but it would
be a mistake. Give me a chance to show you that the company is in
good hands. Ashcroft is gone, but he left behind a strong legacy --
which I will do everything to protect.”

I direct my last
comment towards Brent with a glare. He can try to intimidate me and
manipulate the investors, but I just got here, and I won’t leave
without a fight.

The investors share a
look, then Chad clears his throat, breaking into a smile. “That’s
just what we were hoping to hear. We’re in no hurry to make any
rush judgments, so you get settled in, and we’ll talk about this
more. Welcome to the company, Keely.”

He raises his glass,
and the others follow in a toast.

I let out a sigh of
relief. Vaughn squeezes my hand under the table, giving me a smile. I
did it. It’s not over by a long shot, but at least I’ve bought
myself some time.

VAUGHN

After dinner, Keely is
so exhausted that she passes out right away, but I can’t sleep. I
roll out of bed and pace the floor, caught up in anger and confusion.

She looks so peaceful,
laying there in the moonlight. So innocent -- even if I know the
truth of her dirty, delicious mind.

I want to protect her.
I need to claim her.

Lust rises in me,
insatiable despite the fact I’ve come twice in the last couple of
hours. I move closer to the bed, peeling back the covers. Her body is
splayed open, her luscious breasts jutting up in the air, her skin
barely covered by her silky nightgown.

I reach out and stroke
her hair. She gives a breathy sigh, smiling in her sleep.

What
the fuck are you doing? Watching her sleep like a goddamn pussy? Get
a grip!

I snatch my hand away
and let myself out of the room. The house is dark and silent as I
roam down the hallways, cursing Brent, and Keely, hell, even that
bastard Ashcroft for putting me in this position at all.

The hold she’s got on
me is driving me crazy. I tell myself this is all part of my plan, to
gain her confidence and later destroy her, but just one teasing look
from those big hazel eyes and fuck, I want nothing more than to slam
deep inside her and make her scream my name.

I need to dominate her,
prove I’m still in control. But somehow, even when she’s on her
knees, I’m at her mercy. Even when I’m pounding into her wet
pussy, watching her eyes roll back, hearing her scream for release, I
still feel like she’s the one calling the shots.

Fuck!

I reach the end of
another hallway when I see light coming from behind an open door. I
move closer, pushing it open to find some kind of office library --
lined with books and a heavy old desk. Brent is rummaging through the
drawers. He freezes, looking up with a guilty expression when I step
into the room.

“Oh, it’s you.”
He scowls, slamming the drawer shut.

“Looking for
something?”

“Just getting this
place cleared out.” Brent shoves some papers in a box.

I raise an eyebrow. “At
two in the morning?”

Brent doesn’t answer.
He stares at me thoughtfully for a moment, then smiles. “You know,
I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Oh yeah?” I glare.

“You and me, we could
be useful to each other.” Brent goes to the bar in the corner. “You
want a drink?”

I pause, then take the
whiskey he offers. Everything about this guy makes my skin crawl, but
I want to know what he’s got up his sleeve for Keely.

“See, I couldn’t
figure out why you’d blow me off and cancel our deal. But it’s
the inheritance, right?” Brent asks with a knowing leer. “You
found out what she’s worth, and you figured you’d try and play
her for a bigger piece of the pie. Smart work.” He nods. “I like
a man who aims big.”

And I like a man who
shuts the fuck up and stops talking bullshit, but I force myself to
give him a bland smile.

“Maybe I am after the
money. What do you care?”

“I can help,” Brent
says. “I promise, I won’t say anything about our little
arrangement... If you help me out in exchange.”

Now we’re getting
somewhere.

“What do you want?”
I ask.

“The company. Not
everything,” he adds quickly. “She can keep some shares, a cut of
the profits. Hell, I’ll even let her have the rest of the estate.
But I want control.”

I take a slow swallow
of whiskey. “Say I help you take control, what’ll you do with
it?”

Brent’s face splits
in an ugly sneer. “What should have been done a long time ago. My
father was sentimental. He let his heart get swayed by notions of
loyalty, and doing the right thing. Our profits could be double if we
change our way of doing business. Moved business abroad, cut worker
pensions and salaries.”

“Sweatshop labor,”
I translate. “Screwing the little man.”

“Letting the free
market decide costs and standards,” Brent corrects me. “Or are
you sentimental like him?”

I harden. “I’m
nothing like your father,” I spit.

“Good. Then do we
have a new deal? I’ll keep your little secret, and you’ll steer
Keely to settle for my proposals.” Brent holds out his hand for me
to shake.

I ignore it, gulping
back the rest of my drink. I set the glass down, and turn to go.

“You do whatever the
fuck you like,” I tell him. “But I think you’re underestimating
Keely. You saw her at dinner.”

“Three idiots who
can’t see the forest for the trees.” Brent scowls. “I’d like
to see her pull that off in front of a shareholder meeting with
hundreds of angry voters.”

“Maybe. But I
wouldn’t count her out just yet.”

I leave him in the
office and head back towards our bedroom. But with every step, an
angry voice scolds me.

Why
the hell are you defending her? Brent’s plan is exactly what you
wanted.

I want to destroy
Ashcroft’s legacy, and running his company into the ground is one
way to do it... I have no doubt that with Brent at the reins,
Ashcroft Industries would fall apart in months -- or become so
loathed that their shareholders would jump ship at record rates.

But Keely wants to save
it. And, God help me, I’m going to help her try.

For now, at least.

I tell myself it’s
the smart move. See how things play out: watch where the chips fall,
and decide if Brent’s as much of an idiot as he appears. As long as
I stay by Keely’s side, I’m right where I need to be, ready to
strike when the opportunity comes.

And if that means I get
to gorge on her stunning body in the meantime -- claim every inch of
her until she’s branded with my touch, on her knees, begging for my
cock?

Well, that’s just
fine with me too.

KEELY

The bed is empty when I
wake. Vaughn’s left a note scribbled on the pillow.

Gone
for a run.

I put it down slowly
and take a breath, glad of the moment alone. Having Vaughn with me
24/7 is an overwhelming experience, especially with the intense
sexual chemistry blazing between us. Part of me is glad to have the
back-up and feel like I’m not all alone in this, but part of me
needs a moment to get my head together, and focus on the massive task
ahead of me -- without Vaughn’s tempting distractions.

Today, I’m going into
the city to visit Ashcroft Industry’s headquarters and meet the
main management staff. I dress carefully, in a business-like pencil
skirt, and crisp tailored blouse. It’s the most appropriate outfit
I have, but still, when I look in the mirror, I feel like they’ll
see through me in an instant.

What
are you doing?
My doubts surface.
Brent
was right. You’ve never studied business in your life before. How
can you run a huge corporation?

I force myself to stay
calm and remember what I told the investors last night. I don’t
have to run it: I just need to find the right people and trust them
to continue their good work.

Ashcroft entrusted his
legacy to me, and I can’t let him down.

I have time to kill
before the car collects me, and my stomach is rumbling. I barely
touched my dinner last night, I was too busy trying to keep it
together during my interrogation, so I go downstairs in search of the
kitchen.

I didn’t get a chance
to explore the house yesterday, and now I take my time, lingering in
the long hallways, and peeking into a never-ending series of grand
rooms. The decor is traditional, full of old antiques and heavy
brocade curtains. I wonder if they’re heirlooms like that bracelet
Ashcroft tried to give me: history from a family I never knew
existed.

I realize how little I
know about Ashcroft and his life. Until recently, he was just an
eccentric client to me. I listened to his stories with amusement, but
the details didn’t register with me. I feel a pang at the missed
opportunity to get to know him.

Now, it’s too late.

After wandering the
house for a while, I find the kitchen: a huge, cozy space with bright
yellow tile and a big farmhouse table set with fresh pastries and
juice. I make a beeline for the plate of muffins when I see Isabelle
curled up, half-hidden in the nook. She’s wrapped in a silk robe,
sipping espresso from a tiny china cup.

“Hi.” I pause,
awkward. “How’s it going?”

Isabella stares back at
me coolly. Without her makeup on and fashionable clothes, she looks
younger, almost vulnerable. But the icy expression is still fixed in
place on her beautiful face. “Fine, thank you,” she answers
politely. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, great.” I
hesitate another moment, then take a seat with her at the table and
start filling a plate. “This looks amazing. Did you do it?”

Isabelle curls her lip
in amusement. “No, the cook sets it out in the morning. I don’t
know why. Brent never eats, and Riley’s already gone.”