Brother to the Boss: Billionaire Romance (Managing the Bosses Series Book 8) (8 page)

Erica growled at him and spun on her heel, stalking back toward the man she'd been teaching before she came up to find out what was going on with Anna. Mark watched her go. She really did look good when she was angry. Maybe he would tell her that, sometime when she wasn’t already angry with him.

***

Mark didn’t get a chance talk to Anna again. He made his way around the course and through the club building, chatting with the occasional guest and dealing with the million minor crises that made up the rest of his day. Erica had seemingly made herself scarce or was ignoring him, because every time he passed by she was too busy to even look up. Mark didn’t say anything to her about it. If she wanted to sulk, that was fine. He did hope, though, that she would calm down by the time that the club closed.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. When Mark finally dragged himself up to his rooms after the building had finally been closed down and the last employee cars had left the parking lot, she was sitting stiffly in one of the chairs, a book in her hands that she obviously wasn’t reading by the time he opened the door, because she was looking over the top of it at him.

“Yes?” Mark asked, unfastening the knot of his tie and working it loose with a sigh of relief.

“I want to talk about what happened earlier,” Erica said, setting the book down without marking her page. “Maybe we could’ve handled it better.”

“We?” Mark laughed. “I think I handled it just fine. You were the one with the irrational jealousy problem.”

Erica’s lips flattened into a thin line, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t act like that, Mark. You were just as jealous of Arthur and Richard, apparently, regardless of the fact that we were both doing the same thing. Which is why I’m trying to approach this like a mature adult.”

“So now I’m immature? I’ll tell you something, Erica. We weren’t both doing the same thing. I was talking to the woman. Sure, she was a little flirty, but she wasn’t handing out the kind of blatant bullshit that Arthur and Richard were shoveling. And you let them get away with a hell of a lot of it before you said a word to stop them.”

She shook her head. “Unbelievable. I try to approach this with some degree of humility, and acknowledge that I could have spoken to you a little more nicely about the woman you were talking to, and you turn around and treat me like I’ve committed some horrible sin. Yes, they were flirting. Men always flirt with me.” She threw up a hand. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m generally considered pretty attractive. Guys come on to me. I don’t fucking ask them to. But a lot of them get pretty offended when you tell them that you’re not interested, so in a case where I’m trying to keep them happy with the club, I’m going to push that moment back a little in order to have a better chance of my rejection not ending in them storming out.”

“Wow,” Mark said, stripping out of his suit jacket. “You talk about humility and then you come up with something like that. What? Men can’t handle rejection from you because you’re just so perfectly gorgeous?”

Her expression tightened. “Last I checked, you were one of the guys who thinks I’m gorgeous.”

That wasn't quite the way that Mark had intended it to go. “I am,” he said, feeling suddenly guilty. “I do.”

“Unless someone else agrees with you?” Erica demanded. “Then my looks are clearly just overstated and I should shut up?”

“No.” Mark sighed, and stepped forward. “That's not it at all. You're right. I overreacted and I shouldn't have talked to you like that about it. It's not your fault those guys were trying so hard to get in your pants.”

“No,” she snapped, “it isn't. And it's nice that you want to apologize now, but why couldn't you have earlier? Why did you have to make it this big thing where I'm so in the wrong?”

There was hurt in her voice, and in her face, and Mark wanted to step forward and take her in his arms. He resisted the urge. She obviously wasn't going to be in the mood for it.

“I guess I'm just... It's a lot of stress on me, running the country club, and it's been making me kind of irrationally angry about things.”

“I know that it's a lot of stress on you,” Erica said, and her voice had softened. “I try to help you with it as much as I can. You know that.”

“I do know that.”

She sighed, and her crossed arms loosened just a little. “So, you're not actually mad at me for what happened with those guys?”

Mark meant to say that he wasn't. He really did. But he paused, just for an instant, because he did think she could have said something sooner.

Erica must have seen it in his face, because she cut him off before he could even speak, shaking her head.

“You're unbelievable, you know that? What makes you think that you have any say in who I speak to anyway?”

He stared at her. “You mean that? Seriously? Like you're not sleeping in my bed every night? Sharing my drawers? Of course I get to have some say in who you speak to.”

“No,” she hissed. “You don't. The fact that I'm fucking you, and that we maybe even have what I would call a relationship -- although tonight has put that on tenuous footing, for the record, because you're acting like an ass -- doesn't mean that you get to say who I talk to or how. I'm not going to give you or anyone else that kind of control over me!”

“But you want it over me?” Mark demanded. “You were the one who got angry first. I was willing to let the whole thing with those guys go. I didn't say anything to you about it the night that it happened for a reason, you know. But you just had to get all worked up over the fact that I was speaking to a guest. Which is my job.”

“It's my job, too!”

Mark stalked forward. “If you know that, then why are you acting like this over the fact that I was doing my job just as much as you were?”

“Because-” Erica cut herself off, turning away, and he wrapped a hand around her arm, drawing her back, though he was careful not to make it a yank. Nothing that could hurt her. No matter how mad he was, he wasn't going to get physical with her like that. “Because I was fucking jealous, okay?”

That made him go still. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Seriously. It's not like you're not the kind of guy who could have his pick of whoever. Maybe I was just a little insecure about the fact that you were chatting up a rich woman with way bigger breasts than mine.”

Laughter bubbled up out of Mark's chest before he could stop it. “That's what you were upset about?” He took a step forward, his hand still on her arm, and she was forced to move with him, backing toward the bed. Her cheeks were pink and she wouldn't meet his eyes.

“Well, I'm not exactly well-endowed in that department,” she mumbled. “And she was. And flaunting it.”

“Babe,” Mark said, giving her a little shove that sent her tumbling back onto the mattress and crawling up over her to yank her shirt over her head before she could protest. He tossed it to the side, and started on the fastenings of her bra. “Your breasts. Are perfect.”

Her mouth thinned. “Yeah, right. You're just saying that because you want to fuck me.”

“Which I would think would be a sign that I'm pretty happy with your breasts. Considering the amount of time that I spend wanting to get my hands on them.”

She looked up at him, and Mark carefully worked her ponytail loose of her hair, letting the blond locks spill out over the pillow.

“You sure about that?”

“As sure as I am of the fact that you're hot as hell and that if I don't get inside you in the next -- oh, thirty seconds, I'm going to be pretty disappointed.”

He reached down and unfastened her jeans, pulling them off too, and that seemed to get her attention, because in the next instant she was moving, too, working on the buttons that held his shirt closed so fast that he was pretty sure she almost yanked one of them off. He pulled his slacks down, adding them to the pile of clothing on the floor, and they were both in nothing but their underwear, only two thin layers of fabric between them. Mark got his hands on Erica's hips and flipped her onto her stomach. She gasped, a small, surprised sound that went straight to his cock.

“You want to know something?” he asked as he pulled her panties down around her thighs, kicking his boxers off.

“Fuck. What?”

He lowered one of his hands to line himself up, and then pressed in, pulling her back onto his cock in the same instant and listening to her moan as he filled her.

“I was fucking jealous, too,” he growled against her ear.

His first thrust was hard and fast, and Mark didn’t slow down. His hands were still around her hips, holding tight enough that he wondered if they would leave bruises behind, and if Erica would mind them. She didn’t seem to have any problem with the pace he’d set. Her body was rocking back to meet every thrust, moans spilling from her lips like she couldn’t hold them in. And
fuck
, it was good. It was fucking great. If this was what happened when they fought, Mark wouldn’t mind having a few more of them on occasion.

“Damn,” she gasped. “Mark. More!” Her fingers were curled in the sheets, her knuckles gone white with the force of her grip. Mark let a moan escape his own throat to mingle with the noises that she was making with every breath. One of his hands slid down over her belly so that he could find her clit with two of his fingers, rubbing circles over it to match the pace of his thrusts. Erica all but screamed, and he was glad there was no one around to hear her because he wanted the beautiful woman underneath him all to himself, screams and moans included. She was his, and so were the sounds she made.

“I’m…Mark—”

He didn’t relent, kept up the rough pace and the firm circles over her clit, and with another thrust she was spasming tightly around him as she came, her yell muffled against the sheets.

If he was kind, he would have let her catch her breath after that, but Mark wasn’t feeling particularly charitable. And he happened to know that she wouldn’t have any objection to going another round. He pulled out, dropping onto his back against the mattress.

“Up. Come on. Erica. I want to see you.”

She looked at him, and for a moment he thought that he’d misjudged, and then she was swinging one leg over his hips so that she straddled him, lowering herself down onto his still-hard cock. Mark groaned, back arching, and reached up to catch her nipples between his fingertips, rolling them until they tightened further under the touch. Erica swore between her teeth.

“Love watching you ride me,” he said as she started to move, his hands sliding down over the rippling muscles of her belly and then back up again, cupping the weight of her breasts. “You are fucking gorgeous, Erica. Never thought anything else.”

Erica leaned forward over him, still rocking back against his cock, and Mark pulled her down closer with a hand on her back, arching up so that he could get one of her nipples between his teeth.

“And your breasts are perfect,” he said when he pulled back. “Filling my hands just right. Doesn’t matter what some chick down on the golf course has, babe. She doesn’t have me. You’re the one that I want. You’re—Fuck.”

He wasn’t going to be able to keep up the chatter, not with Erica so hot and tight around him, her nails digging little half-moon marks into his chest. It was just enough pain to make the pleasure sharper, and he’d already made her come once.

“Yeah,” Erica was saying above him. “Yes. Mark.”

“Close?” he bit out.

She just nodded, the motion a little frantic, and moved faster over him.

“Come on, then. Fucking come for me. Fuck.”

Erica didn’t need any more encouragement than that. An instant later she was arching with the pleasure, her entire body shuddering. Mark’s vision went white, and then dark, and pleasure hit him like fireworks.

In the aftermath, he lay panting against the mattress with Erica sprawled across his chest.

“Well that wasn’t a bad way to make up.”

She laughed. “No. I guess it wasn’t. If that’s the way we always get over a fight, I think we’ll be okay.” Her head lifted, and she gave him a brief, less-than-chaste kiss. “Right now, though, I think I need a shower.”

Mark watched her stand, and then she held out her hand, inviting him without words to follow. He didn’t need to be asked twice.

“Have you seen this?” Alex demanded, dropping the tabloid onto the kitchen counter with a slap.

Jamie hardly looked up from where she was feeding the twins their breakfast. Things had been tense between them since the last argument. Alex still wasn't sure what he was going to do about balancing business and family, and it seemed that Jamie wouldn't be speaking to him much until he decided. She hadn't been outright hostile, but she'd been less than friendly, and they hadn't made love in days. He could argue that he wanted her back at work, but she was in no rush to get back. She was mad, even though she wouldn’t admit it.

Not that Alex blamed her. She obviously felt like he valued work more than he valued her and their children, and it was getting to her.

The trouble was, he couldn't make himself just give up the company. He didn’t want to. Nor did he think he had to. No matter what he did, he was going to lose something, and he was determined that it wouldn't be Jamie. But he didn't want to lose any more of Reid Enterprises than he had to, and the last few days had been too hectic to step back from. Which meant, of course, that to Jamie it just seemed like he hadn't made any decision at all.

“What is it?” Jamie said finally when Alex didn't say anything else, looking up from the little jar of applesauce that she was feeding the twins from in alternating bites.

“This,” Alex said tightly, tipping the magazine up so that she could see the cover: a picture of Nicholas standing on the green at Mark's country club, chatting with Mark like there was nothing wrong between them.

Jamie's eyebrows lifted.

“Can you believe that he would do this to me?” Alex demanded, looking down at the cover again. He shook his head. “I really thought that we were getting along, Jamie. We were brothers again. But now he's going around spending time with Nicholas, of all people. I don't know what I'm going to do.” It was the deepest kind of betrayal in his opinion.

“Maybe you should take a breath,” Jamie said. “And actually give it some thought before you do anything rash. Because you are brothers, and he does care about you. He always has.”

“Oh, right,” Alex said. “He's always cared about me so much that he and my father never did anything to try to get me back after I left.”

“They did, too!” Jamie retorted sharply. “Or don't you remember all the times that Mark called you and tried to invite you to things? And the fact that your father wanted to see you before he died? I can’t speak for your dad, but Mark has tried. In the years I’ve known you, he’s always tried. It seems more like you were the one who refused to speak to them.”

That hurt. Alex turned to look at his wife. “You're going to take his side over mine?”

“When you're being unreasonable,” Jamie shook her head, “yes. I am going to. Because guilty until proven innocent isn't how we play around here, and you of all people should know just how much the press can twist a situation around. For all you know, he kicked Nicholas off the property immediately after that photo. Or Nicholas set the whole thing up.”

“He didn't,” Alex said, voice flat. “I read the story. Apparently Nicholas has been playing there for almost a week now, and bringing plenty of his buddies with him. Probably the same buddies he's trying to steal out from under me in his desperate attempt to ruin the company I spent my life building!”

“Calm down,” Jamie said, standing up and setting the jar of applesauce on the counter. “You're going to scare Benton and Lilli.”

Alex froze with his mouth open, already ready with a retort, but managed to hold back and not say anything. He looked over at his children, who were watching him with wide eyes like they didn't quite believe what was happening. They were too little to understand what fighting was, but it was clear that they understood enough to be startled and maybe even upset by his tone. Alex immediately regretted getting so loud.

“Sorry,” he said more quietly. “I didn't mean to scare them.”

“Just take a minute and think about this.” Jamie crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the counter. “Your brother does care about you, whatever you may have thought at one time. And you know that he does because you've seen it every day since he's come back into your life. So don't immediately jump on the 'Mark is evil' bandwagon. Chill out and maybe actually try to talk to him before you decide anything, or you're going to regret it.”

She was probably right. Alex knew it. But it didn't make him anymore inclined to feel kindly toward his brother in that moment. Mark knew how he felt about Nicholas.

“Maybe,” Jamie suggested, sitting back down again, “he decided that letting Nicholas play at the club wasn't going to be a problem for you, since it doesn't actually affect your business. Or maybe not letting him play would cause more hindrance than help.”

Alex started at her. “Of course it affects my business,” he hissed, keeping his voice low. “That man has tried to destroy everything that I love. If you think that I'm going to just stand there and let my brother buddy up to him…”

Jamie lifted one shoulder in a shrug and let it fall again as she held the spoon out to Lilli from another jar. “Well,” she said, “Nicholas is spending his money there. Not making any. So maybe Mark figured that it wasn't wrong to take a little money from a guy you dislike, especially for the sake of your business.” Her eyes lifted to his. “I'm not sure that you wouldn't do the same.”

Alex's hands curled into fists, and his jaw tightened until his teeth ached. “Seriously, Jamie? You think that I would betray my brother just to make a
little bit
of money? Are you really that convinced that I don't care about anything but work? Have I actually given you the impression that I'm that kind of person in the last few months?”

Jamie's expression softened. “Alex...”

“No.” Alex started for the door. “I'm not going to stand here and listen to this. I know I've been busy, but I'm not heartless. I thought that you knew that.” He shook his head. “You knew what you were marrying when you said ‘I do’. I haven’t changed, nor should I have to.”

Even as Jamie stood up he was walking out, the door shutting hard behind him.

He was out the garage and down the long drive in seconds, pulling onto the road and accelerating away. Alex didn't know understand how Jamie could even think that way about him. Even at his worst he'd coldly pushed her away because he'd been afraid that falling in love with her would be more of a liability than it was worth. Because he'd believe that his business was the most important thing in the world and he didn't have time for anyone else.

Maybe it wasn't such a surprise that she thought he was capable of feeling that way after all, and Alex curled his fingers tighter around the wheel of the car as he merged onto the highway that would take him out to Mark’s country club. He’d just gotten in from work, but he wasn’t going to let this sit and fester, and it was better to talk to Mark face to face about it. Jamie was right. He couldn't just stop believing that his brother cared because of one tabloid photo. The press had lied about him enough times that he should know better than to believe anything they said, no matter how many photos they had to back it up. When he and Jamie were dating, they'd tried to imply that Mark and Jamie were going behind his back, for fuck's sake. Why wouldn't they try to make the world think that Mark was now going behind his back with Nicholas?

He'd tried to keep the whole issue out of the press at all, but of course they'd gotten hold of it somehow. Probably with Nicholas' help. He would want everyone to know that he was going up against Alex Reid. And when he won, he'd want everyone to be anticipating it, waiting to congratulate him.

But he wasn't going to win.

Alex wasn't going to let him. And when the asshole lost, he might finally realize that all attacking Alex Reid was going to get him was trouble.

All of that, though, was something he was going to have to deal with a little later down the line, because right now the issue at hand was Mark, and whatever Mark thought he was doing with Nicholas. Alex’s thoughts turned the problem over and over as he drove, and he was still thinking about it as he pulled into the lot at the country club and walked up to the main building to find his brother.

Mark, it turned out, was in the kitchen, dealing with some problem. When he saw Alex, he turned to look at the man he’d been talking to and told him he was going to have to take a few minutes. The kitchen manager nodded and hurried away. Mark stepped out of the kitchen and, after a moment’s hesitation, led Alex out through the door and onto the lawn on the back side of the building, moving toward the vineyard that they were starting. It was a place that people probably wouldn’t be able to hear them arguing, and Alex knew that Mark must already know what he was there for.

Mark shook his head. “Look, Alex,” he said immediately, “I know what you probably saw, and I'm not going to say that it isn't bad, but I want you to know that it's not because I'm trying to undermine you, I swear.”

Alex paused. He’d been right. Mark had seen the tabloid, too, then, and he hadn't denied that he had been speaking to Nicholas. Willing himself to be patient, Alex took a deep breath and let it out again, and when he spoke he didn’t yell. “So what did happen, Mark?”

His younger brother's expression was contrite. “It's—” he started to say, and then stopped. “Okay, so what happened is that Nicholas showed up here, and I was going to kick him out.”

“But...” Alex prompted.

“But,” Mark went on, “then I realized that maybe that wasn't such a good idea. I know that you and he don't get along, and that he's been really terrible, but it's not like I'm helping him with something. I'm just taking his money. And he brings in a lot of other clients for the first time. If I lose him, I could lose a bunch of my clientele.”

“Because Nicholas’ connections are worth
money
?” Alex fumed. He wanted to punch his brother in the face. What an idiot!

“I honestly thought you would understand.”

Just like Jamie had said, then. He thought that he wasn't doing anything wrong. He thought he was running his business the way that Alex would. Alex ran a hand through his hair and spun on his heel, pacing away through the short green grass. When he turned again, he shook his head. “That's not what I would have done, Mark,” he said, and his voice came out harsher than he'd meant it to.

“Isn't it?” Mark asked. “I mean, I'm not saying that you're some kind of corrupt cutthroat, but you wouldn't risk your whole business just because someone you cared about didn't like a high-paying client. He comes here, he plays golf, he pays money. I don't know what kind of risk that puts you at.”

“It puts me at risk,” Alex snapped, “because he thinks that he can get to me through you! You're my brother. The only reason he's showed up to play here at all is that he wants to know if you're going to be a pawn for him.”

“Oh, it couldn't possibly be because my business is actually worth someone's time. I mean, it's not the great Reid Enterprises, so why would anyone want to actually come here without some kind of ulterior motive?” Mark’s voice rose to match his. “Obviously you're the much more interesting Reid brother.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” Alex said. “I just meant that Nicholas isn't the kind of person you can trust, Mark. He doesn't do anything just because he wants to. He does it so that he can get a leg up on the competition. Whatever he wants here, he's not just playing golf for the hell of it. You know what happened with Gina.”

“And you think I'm going to let him get to me the way that he did with Gina?” Mark asked. His voice was softer, but his expression said that he wasn't any less angry at the insinuation. “It's not like I'm letting him take me out to dinner and buy me expensive gifts. I'm not going to hand over your business credit cards to him.”

Alex sighed. “No, Mark. Damn it! You think I don't fucking know that? I'm not accusing you of being stupid, or whatever it is that you think I'm accusing you of. I'm just asking why the fuck you think it's a good idea to let a man who's trying to destroy your brother's livelihood hang out and play golf at your country club. Like there’s no problem. Like blood isn’t thicker than water.”

“Maybe because it's part of
my
livelihood,” Mark answered. “Just because I haven't been building Little Lake since I was eighteen doesn't meant that it's not worth something to me, or that it's not important. I care about it.”

Alex met his brother's eyes. “If that’s the way you really feel about it, that money for the country club is more important to you than the fact that he’s obviously trying to use you against me, then I think I’m going to have to withdraw my funding from Little Lake. You want to play ball? Be the big businessman? After all, you’ve got plenty now without me.” He turned and then swung back around. “I only shared it in the first place because we’re family.”

Mark’s expression went flat. For a moment he just stared at Alex, slowly shaking his head. “Fine,” he said. “That’s fine, Alex. If that’s the way that you feel you have to go about things, then I’m not going to say anything about it. Although, honestly, I feel like withdrawing funding from your brother’s business and definitely causing him financial hardship is something a little more concretely wrong than not throwing a man out of your business just because he’s kind of a dick.”

“It’s more than that and you know it, Mark.”