Fire with Fire (Crash and Burn, Book 3) (A Military Romance) (17 page)

Ivy noticed that Cullen often would gaze in her direction when he was talking on the mic, to the point where she grew distinctly uncomfortable.

Other people around the room appeared to be glancing over at her, as if they were also catching on to Cullen’s focus.

But then again, maybe it was just her overactive imagination.

Before dessert was brought to the tables, Ivy excused herself and left the private room to go to the bathroom.

As she was walking down the hallway, she passed by the main dining room and saw Xavier Montrose eating lunch with a gorgeous raven-haired woman wearing a low-cut dress.

He looked up and happened to catch Ivy walking past the doorway, and she saw his eyebrows rise in surprise, and then he was saying something to the woman, and getting to his feet, putting his napkin on the table.

Ivy kept walking, not sure what was going to happen next—or what she even wanted to happen.

But then Xavier was coming out of the main dining area, calling her name.

She slowed down and turned to face him. “I think it’s very rude that you left your lunch with that beautiful girl to come and talk to me. I wouldn’t like it very much if I were in her position.”

“It you were at the table with me, I would never leave your side,” he replied, his green eyes glimmering with a mixture of mischief and allure.

“You’re very quick,” Ivy told him. “Too quick.”

“That’s never been my problem,” he purred.

She felt her cheeks flush yet again. “I’m—I’m afraid I need to get back to the luncheon soon.”

“Because that silly bastard Sharpe’s going to whine about you leaving him alone for too long?” Xavier chuckled.

“He’s not silly,” she whispered, somehow feeling defensive on Cullen’s behalf.

“I see I’ve hit a nerve. So you like him, then?” He watched her closely.

Ivy flinched at the notion that she still had feelings for Cullen Sharpe after the way he’d treated her.

“No, I don’t like him, but he’s my CEO and he’s a brilliant man.”

“Brilliant is one way of putting it,” Xavier joked, a wicked grin crossing his features. “But you don’t have romantic feelings for him?”

She hesitated.

“Forget I asked.” Xavier put out a hand. “I don’t care about that. Just say you’ll come to dinner with me tonight.”

“You’re date’s right in the next room!”

“She’s not a date, I told you. She’s just a friend.”

“Somehow I doubt very much that you have female friends who look like her.”

Xavier laughed easily. “I have lots of friends. But I don’t have you—and you’re the one I’m interested in seeing tonight. If you’ll give me a chance.” He waited for her answer, a patient but bemused expression on his handsome face.

She sighed. If it wasn’t for Cullen Sharpe, she certainly wouldn’t have turned down a date with a man like Xavier. He was good looking, funny, confident and seemingly normal.

It irked her tremendously that she was feeling guilty because of Cullen, when he’d already rejected her.

None of her mixed emotions made sense, and that made her even more perturbed.

“You know what? I’m going to say yes,” she said, determined not to let Cullen play any part in her decision.

“Here’s my card,” he replied, producing a gorgeous business card with his name on it. “Call me later.” And then he turned and walked back into the main dining area, leaving her alone in the hallway.

She found herself examining his business card closely.

XAVIER MONTROSE, PRESIDENT

VELLUM PHARMACEUTICALS

Her eyes narrowed as she realized that the man who’d just asked her out on a date was clearly a direct competitor with Cullen Sharpe and Biomatrix Pharma.

No wonder the two men hated each other.

When she looked up again, she saw movement near the far end of the hallway. It was Cullen Sharpe, watching her from the entrance to the private room.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head. She spun and continued walking towards the restrooms, her heart racing as she went.

He saw us together. He knows Xavier Montrose gave me his card.

Who cares if he knows? You don’t owe Cullen Sharpe anything.

And yet, as much as she tried to tell herself that she owed Cullen no loyalty, something inside her continued to struggle with the idea that he’d seen her take Xavier’s card.

She knew that Cullen would be right behind her now, catching up to her. Any moment his hand would fall on her shoulder and that deep voice of his would speak, telling her how disappointed he was in her behavior.

But when she reached the door to the restroom and turned around, there was nobody behind her.

Nobody at all.

* * *

A
bout an hour later
, Ivy was back at the office and at her desk, working and trying hard to pretend that everything was normal.

I’m just a girl working a temp job, doing data entry and making a little money. That’s it. There doesn’t have to be anything else going on.

But she knew that things had progressed far past that point. She wasn’t just some worker bee doing her job and going home, living a normal life. The CEO had taken an interest in her—a very particular interest.

She could still remember what it felt like to strip naked in front of him, to know that his hungry, cool eyes were watching, examining her nude body as she let him control her every move.

And then he’d ultimately turned her down, found her lacking.

But he was still sending very mixed signals, wasn’t he?

Ivy pulled Xavier Montrose’s business card out of her blazer pocket and stared at it yet again. She fingered the intricate logo that was swirling in the corner of the card, thinking about whether she was simply considering the man’s offer because she wanted to somehow get back at Cullen.

Or was she genuinely intrigued by Cullen Sharpe’s rival?

She wished she knew.

Sighing, Ivy put the card away and got back to her data entry. She’d begun to find the work easy but tedious. Some temps had been let go for falling behind pace or making too many errors, but Ivy was fairly certain she was in no danger.

She found the work to be, if anything, not challenging enough.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she replayed, again and again, what had happened between her and Cullen Sharpe early that morning at his home.

The feel of his hand on her naked body, his finger sliding deliciously between her legs, soaking her…

Even now, she was getting excited all over again, despite trying to distract herself and think of anything but him.

Damn him. I hate him. What he did to me was wrong.

She took a deep breath and refocused.

Do your work and stop thinking about Cullen. When you leave work, you’ll call Xavier Montrose. He was friendly, funny, didn’t take himself so seriously. He’s a much better romantic possibility—he put himself out there without demanding capitulation from you.

That settled that.

And then an intranet chat bubble popped up on her computer screen. The internal chat system of Biomatrix Pharma was something she knew existed only because Lucas had sent her one or two chats.

None of the other temps had ever chatted with her, though Ivy had a feeling they were all communicating amongst themselves. They just didn’t like or trust her enough to include her in such activities.

But now the little box popped up on her monitor, indicating that someone was sending her a message. When she saw the name inside the chat bubble, Ivy felt dizzy and breathless.

CULLEN SHARPE: I told you to stay away from him.

That was all it said. She waited for him to follow up, but after a minute, she realized he wasn’t going to expand on the sentiment.

Her anxiety transformed into annoyance. Her fingers flew over the keys as she wrote back to him.

IVY SPELLMAN: He’s nice. And it’s none of your business.

There was a long pause, and Ivy smiled, imagining Cullen reading it and his head nearly exploding from her defiance.

CULLEN SHARPE: I’ve made you my business. And he’s not nice.

She frowned, her belly tightening, a chill running up her spine. Her fingers flew over the keys yet again.

IVY SPELLMAN: You’re not nice, either. Who do you think you are telling me what to do or whom I can speak with?

Now the responses from Cullen were coming faster, as were her return volleys. They went back and forth, back and forth, so fast she could hardly keep up.

CULLEN SHARPE: I’m the one in charge.

IVY SPELLMAN: At work. Nowhere else.

CULLEN SHARPE: Everywhere. And someone needs to protect you.

IVY SPELLMAN: You call what you do “protection?” Don’t make me laugh…

CULLEN SHARPE: Xavier Montrose is the lowest of the low. You don’t have a clue what you’re getting yourself into. Also, your disobedience is getting tiresome.

IVY SPELLMAN: Then stop trying to control me and you won’t have to deal with my “tiresome behavior” anymore. Simple.

CULLEN SHARPE: You are being childish. But I understand, you’re confused.

IVY SPELLMAN: I’m not confused. I’m annoyed. You’re completely controlling and crazy, and you want to drive me crazy too. I won’t let you do it.

CULLEN SHARPE: I’m a very difficult man. And I won’t inflict that on you…but I also can’t allow you to be hurt by outside forces.

IVY SPELLMAN: I forgot to add paranoid to your list of charming qualities.

CULLEN SHARPE: If only I was paranoid. My concerns for you are all too real. You’re very special, very unique. There are people in this world who would twist you to their own ends.

IVY SPELLMAN: Sounds familiar…

CULLEN SHARPE: I know that I hurt you. Believe me, that’s the very last thing I want to do.

IVY SPELLMAN: Could’ve fooled me. Now please let me get back to work so I don’t miss my targets and get fired for it.

She waited for his inevitable response, but it never came. And though she wanted to feel a sense of pride, knowing she’d stuck up for herself and told the entitled CEO to go to hell—Ivy couldn’t escape the sense that she’d gone too far.

Maybe you don’t actually want him to leave you alone. The lady doth protest too much.

She closed the chat window, closing her eyes momentarily. Even then, she saw Cullen Sharpe in the darkness of her mind, and he was still watching her.

* * *

W
ork was mercifully over
, and Ivy was leaving the office for the day. Lucas caught up to her as she headed to the T station a few blocks away.

“Are you as sick of reading those case report forms as I am?” he asked, as he came along side her as they left the building.

The cool, fresh Boston air was a welcome relief.

Ivy smiled, laughing, but her heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, I’m sure this is nothing compared to how we’ll feel a few weeks from now.”

“If we’re still even here,” Lucas said. “You know they’re just going to keep cutting until we’re down to like five people that type one hundred and forty words per minute.”

Ivy laughed, shrugging. “I might not mind getting fired at this point.”

“They’ll never fire you,” he said.

She shot him a look. “Why not?” she said, feeling like he was judging her, just as the other temps had. “I’m not going to get any special treatment, Lucas.”

“Are you sure about that, Ivy?” he replied, nodding ahead of them, his eyes suddenly locking on something just up ahead.

She turned and followed Lucas’s gaze, and realized that there was a black sports car pulled up a few yards in front of them, idling. Standing outside the car, leaning against it with his arms folded, was none other than Cullen Sharpe.

“Fuck,” she whispered.

Lucas raised his eyebrows knowingly. “Guess that’s my cue to exit,” he said, walking faster. “Good luck.”