Trista Ann Michaels (11 page)

“Look at me, baby,” Marcus purred.

She opened her eyes slowly and stared into his face. His eyes were narrowed, his gaze intense, his eyes so dark blue they were almost black. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscles in his cheek jerked repeatedly. It was then she realized he was having as hard a time holding back as she was.

Lifting her hips, she rotated them slightly and he closed his eyes on a soft groan. She did it again, sighing as her own body began the beginning stages of her release. Marcus growled and gripped her hips, trying to hold her still, but Sinclair wouldn’t be deterred. She wanted that release. She wanted to feel his cock throbbing inside her as he lost his own control to hold back.

He liked teasing her. She liked pushing him to his limits.

“Don’t stop,” Sinclair whispered as she rotated her hips again, this time in a bigger circle.

Marcus moved his hand between her legs and brushed the pad of his thumb over her clit. She shuddered, then cried out as the pressure from his thumb increased.

“Wanna come?” he growled as he began to pump his cock into her ass in slow, short thrusts, matching the movement of his thumb over her clit.

Sinclair gasped at the strength of the orgasm building in her womb. The inside of her legs stiffened as the pleasure built, making the walls of her pussy convulse.

“Son of a… Oh my, God,” she screamed as her release slammed through her, forcing every part of her body to tingle.

Marcus continued to pound into her, pushing her hips into the air even higher. With a loud growl of his own, he came with her, spilling his seed deep in her ass with a thrust so hard, he filled her balls deep.

Sinclair couldn’t move. Not even if her life depended on it.

Marcus pulled free of her body, then slowly removed the toy. She sighed as he let her legs fall gently to the bed, then softly kneaded the back of her thighs as he began to position himself next to her. He dropped to his side and let his arm drape over her stomach.

He let out a sigh as he rested his head next to hers. His breath brushed across her temple and she smiled, closing her eyes as the warmth from his body settled into hers.

“I need to tell you something, Sinclair,” he whispered.

Sinclair wasn’t sure she’d heard him. She was so tired, so sated; she couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying and let her mind slowly fade as sleep took over.

Chapter Fifteen

The beeping of his phone woke Marcus and he quickly jumped from the bed to grab it off the dresser. He hit the silence button, then glanced back to make sure Sinclair was still asleep.

He sighed in relief to see the phone hadn’t waked her, then went to the kitchen to see who’d sent the text.

I’m right outside. Open the door.

Marcus rolled his eyes and walked over to the door. He opened it and stared at Jim in annoyance.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.

“My job,” Jim snapped back. “Where’s Sinclair?”

“She’s still sleeping … I think. Why?”

Jim held up a set of papers. “You need to sign these.”

“This couldn’t have waited?” Marcus took them from his grasp.

“They need to be back by six tonight or they’re null and void.”

Marcus started toward the kitchen as he glanced over the top page. “I already signed these.”

“Look at the signature.”

Marcus flipped through to the last page and sighed. He’d signed them
Marcus
. “Damn.”

“I didn’t notice it at first either. You’ve got to stop doing that. When signing important company papers, you’re Alexander Deveraux not Marcus Rogers.”

“Excuse me?” Sinclair said from behind them and Marcus turned in surprise to see her standing in the bedroom doorway. Her hair was still mussed, her dress thrown on in haste and still wrinkled from its night on the floor. He could tell by the shocked look on her face, the hurt in her eyes that she’d heard what Jim had said.

“Alexander Deveraux?” she snarled.

Damn. Marcus’s heart stopped. This was so not how he wanted her to find out.

Jim looked a little surprised, then he turned to glare at Marcus. “You didn’t tell her yet?”

“I haven’t had a chance.”

“You’ve had two days,” Jim snapped.

Marcus shrugged as though unsure what to say.

“Tell me what?” Sinclair snarled. “That you’ve been lying to me all this time? That you’re really my boss? What were you doing? Spying on me? Making sure I was doing my job correctly?”

“No,” Marcus snapped. Wow, she was pissed and in truth, she had every right to be. “Sinclair,” he began.

Sinclair held up her hand, palm up. “I don’t even know who you are. Is anything you’ve told me the truth?”

Marcus wasn’t quite sure what to say. Some of it had been. Some of it had been made up for his Marcus persona. He’d started this years ago. He was Marcus quite a while before he met her. He’d hired her through Jim, which wasn’t unusual. It’s how he’d hired a lot of people once he became Marcus. He used his position as a pilot to check them out without them knowing who he was. It had worked out perfectly for him.

This situation with Sinclair had come about by accident. Jim had done Sinclair’s interview and recommended her. His assistant knew what he looked for, and since Jim would actually be working with her more than he would, he’d trusted his judgment. And he’d been right. Sinclair had been the perfect assistant. When her usual pilot had called in sick and he’d been the only one available to take his place, she’d come to know him as Marcus. From that first trip together, he’d been hooked on her sweet smile and fiery personality. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to see her. He’d fallen in love with her and put off telling her the truth for fear of losing her. Her reaction was anger, distrust. She had every right to feel that way. He’d lied to her.

“When I told you I love you,” he said. “That’s the truth.”

“You love me or Alexander loves me?” she snarled sarcastically. “I need to go home.”

She stomped forward and snatched her purse from the kitchen counter. Marcus watched sadly, unsure what to do as she grabbed a pair of sandals from her room. When she passed by him, he reached out to grab her arm. She quickly jerked away and glared.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Sinclair—”

“Don’t,” she snapped and started toward the door.

Marcus made a move to go after her, but Jim stepped in front of him and put his hand on his chest. “Let her go, Alex.”

Marcus stared at him in shock. “Let her go? Are you fucking insane?”

The door shut with a loud slam and Marcus’s heart dropped to his knees.

“She just needs time. It wouldn’t hurt her this much if she didn’t care for you.”

“I know she cares for me. I can’t lose her over this, Jim.”

“You’re not going to.” Jim dropped his hand. “Just give her a few days.”

“How’s she gonna get home?” Marcus sighed and waved his hand toward the door. “Go get her, offer her a ride home. Make sure she gets there okay.”

Jim nodded and grabbed the papers Marcus still hadn’t signed off the counter and handed them to him. “Take care of this.” He let out a tired sigh and headed toward the door. “In the meantime, let me see what I can do to fix your mess.”

*

Sinclair slowly slid from the golf cart as it pulled up to the small jet parked at the end of the runway. It was one of Alexander’s. She would recognize the paintjob anywhere. All his jets were black. How many was it he had? Three or four? She wasn’t even sure now, nor was she sure she even cared.

Letting out a deep sigh of regret, she started toward the stairs that led to the cabin. The captain came to the opening and stared down at her in suspicion, at first anyway, until he recognized her. As Alexander’s assistant, she knew most of the pilots and top executives.

“Sinclair?” he asked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Long story,” she replied. “Can I hitch a ride home?”

“Don’t you normally fly with Marcus?”

“Again,” she said sadly. “Long story.”

The captain nodded and moved aside, allowing her to climb on board. She’d left in such a hurry she hadn’t gotten her suitcase or a jacket. It would be freezing when she got home, especially in this short sundress.

She dropped into one of the seats in the back of the plane and stared out the window. “I’m assuming you flew Jim in. Is Jim leaving soon?” she called toward the cockpit.

“He just texted he’s on his way back to the plane. We should be airborne in about thirty minutes.”

Sinclair nodded and turned to look back out the window. Now that she was still, regret began to tug at her heart. She should’ve never gotten involved with him. She knew better, but she would’ve never imagined he was Alexander. Why had he done it? What was his purpose? Did he do this sort of stuff all the time? And if he lied about who he was, did he lie about being in love with her?

A single tear slipped down her cheek and she swiped it away in frustration. She needed to think. She needed to get away from this island, and most importantly, away from Marcus … or Alexander, or whoever the hell he was.

Jim stepped on board and stuck his head into the cockpit. She could hear them softly talking to one another, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. If the truth were known, she really didn’t care anyway.

Jim walked back and took the seat across from her. He swiveled it around so they faced each other before locking it in place.

“We’ll drop you off first.”

She nodded. “Thank you. I’m sorry to put you out like this.”

“You’re not putting me out.”

Sinclair smiled softly. Jim had always been nice. He’d been Alexander’s right-hand man for years. As far as she knew, he wasn’t dating anyone and she’s often wondered just how his preferences ran, but never asked. Sometimes he did things that to her smacked of gay, and other times he didn’t appear gay at all. If he was, he hid it well.

With his dark blonde hair, hazel eyes, and tall, fit build, he would be a catch for any woman or man.

“Are you okay, Sinclair?” he asked gently.

She blinked, forcing her thoughts back to the last thing in the world she wanted to think about. “I’m fine,” she whispered. But truthfully, she wasn’t. She hurt like she’d never hurt before. It was like he’d taken a knife and just sliced through her chest.

“If it helps any, he was Marcus long before you came along.”

She shook her head and turned back to the window. In the distance, she could see the ocean and another tear slipped down her cheek. It didn’t help any. Not at all. He should’ve told her before they slept together. He should’ve come clean before he told her he loved her, before she let herself completely fall for him.

“Sinclair,” Jim began.

She shook her head. “Just … let’s just don’t talk about this, please,” she pleaded softly. “I just need to think.”

“You need to know why,” Jim replied.

“I know. And I want to know why, just not right now.”

Jim nodded sadly and unlocked his chair so he could swivel it back around to face the front of the plane. Sinclair sat in silence, watching as the plane sped down the runway, feeling as though she was leaving a huge chunk of her heart behind.

Chapter Sixteen

Karen sat across from her at Sinclair’s kitchen table, her mouth open in shock. “Marcus is Alexander?”

“So it would seem,” Sinclair replied dryly.

She’d called Karen the second she arrived home and her friend had rushed over. She’d spent the better part of the evening crying out everything to the point she wasn’t sure she had any more tears left to cry.

“Did you find out why?” Karen asked.

Sinclair shook her head.

“Why the hell not?”

“I just had to get out of there,” Sinclair whined. “All I could see was he’d lied to me. I fell in love with Marcus only to find out that’s not who he is.”

“Sinclair, does it really matter?”

“I don’t know. Did he ever plan to tell me?” she asked, spreading her palms up on the table. “Was I going to go through life as Mrs. Marcus Rogers, never knowing his true identity?”

“What if he had a good reason for doing it?”

Sinclair snorted. “What reason would that be?”

“Think about it. The man has more money than God. Maybe he just wanted people to like him for him. Maybe he wanted to keep his identity a secret to keep away the moochers. Women can be incredibly greedy and money hungry. Take me for example. I would marry for money like that in a heartbeat.”

Sinclair snickered and shook her head. “I appreciate your honesty, Karen.”

A knock sounded at the door and they both jumped.

“I’ll get it,” Karen said.

She walked to the door and opened it. At her gasp of surprise, Sinclair turned to see what was going on. As she did, in walked three men, all carrying a bouquet of roses. Each rose was a different color, some she’d never seen before.

She stood and walked over to smell one as he placed it on the coffee table.

“Who are these from?” she asked as she stared at them in surprise.

“Sinclair, are you really that dense?” Karen asked with just a hint of sarcasm as she signed the delivery form. She quickly shooed them out the door, then shut it. With a grin, she handed Sinclair a card that had come with the flowers. “Ten bucks says these are from Alexander.”

Sinclair stared at the card, knowing she’d start crying again the second she read it. Sighing, Karen opened it herself and read it out loud. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner, but I was afraid of this very thing. My feelings haven’t changed. I love you. Signed, Alex.”

Tears began to well up in her eyes again as she fingered one of the bright yellow roses.

“Sinclair, I swear if you don’t hear this man out, I’ll wring your neck.”

Sinclair remained silent and Karen continued. “The card says he loves you. Do you love him enough to forgive him?”

* * * *

“You love her, what the hell are you doing?”

Alex gave Jim a look of annoyance, but Jim just snorted.

“Don’t give me that ‘I’ve over-stepped the boundaries’ look. I cross that line all the time.”

Alex let out a tired sigh and turned his chair sideways behind his desk. Using the tip of his pen, he outlined the streak of sunlight streaming across the wood as the sun rose and shone through the window behind him. “It’s not that simple.”