In Deeper (4 page)

Micah stared at her as she passed. “What the hell, Celeste?”

She wasted no time in hooking her arm through his and pulling him along with her. She took the stairs two at a time and darted down the second-floor hallway. Micah kept pace with her, but let her lead. In flight mode, her only thought was getting to safety. She pressed the up button on the elevator and bounced from foot to foot as she waited for the car to arrive.

The doors slid open, and she jumped in. Micah followed at a slower pace. Once the doors closed behind him, she let out a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall.

Micah crossed his arms over his chest. “Care to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“I have no clue,” she gasped. Fear and exertion made her breath bellow in her lungs. “He came out of nowhere.”

Micah stepped closer to her. “Try again.”

She curled her fingers around the brass railing behind her and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Two more steps and he was close enough for her to experience his heat. “You have to know something.” His dark blue gaze caught and held hers. “I was right about you. Your timing is suspicious.”

She shoved away from the wall and straightened to her full height. “I don’t owe you a confession.”

“The hell you don’t. Who, or what, the fuck was that?”

She laughed, but it lacked any amusement. “I don’t know.”

“I like my women clueless normally but not today, Celeste.”

She rolled her eyes at his condescension. “I’m not your woman.”

He seemed to grow larger, more forbidding. “You come here, ask me to be your mate, and end up in a fight with whatever the hell that was downstairs. You owe me something, goddamn it.”

The elevator reached her floor, and the doors opened. She brushed past him and entered her room. She left the door open for him and headed to the mini-fridge. She ripped the red plastic off another bottle of vodka with her teeth. The burn was barely noticeable as she tossed the contents down her throat.

Micah watched her. She lifted her chin and pretended it didn’t bother her that he was standing in her suite, a few feet away from the bedroom.

“Are you ready to talk now?”

She opened her mouth but was cut off by the sound of a shrill ring coming from his pocket. Holding up his finger, Micah reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled out his cell phone.

He answered and had a short conversation with whoever was on the other end. “Yeah, I have her. I don’t know yet. I’ll call you later.”

She waited for him to end the call and toss the phone aside. “Drake?”

“Yeah.” Micah rubbed his hand across his forehead. “He’s worried about you.”

But not worried enough to call her. She felt off-balance. A subtle shift in power was plainly visible. When had Drake ever trusted her alone with Micah? “He knows you’re with me?”

“It’s not like he thinks we’re fucking or something.” Micah gave her a look so filled with frustration she felt it like a blow. “Drake and Max tried to follow the man, but he gave them the slip.”

A tiny whimper escaped her. She hadn’t wanted the Randolphs to be involved. Not the entire family at least. So far, her enemy’s threats had been empty, meaningless messages. Tonight was the first time someone had physically confronted her. She didn’t want her friends to be hurt because of her.

Micah came up to her and touched her shoulder. “The truth. Now.”

She’d tried so hard to contain it, not wanting anyone to know her work had suffered as she worried over the evil messages landing in her e-mail in-box almost daily. The tone had become increasingly violent to the point she’d begun to fear for her safety. “Someone is after me.”

His expression turned to stone. “Explain.”

She grabbed another bottle and opened it. She extended the clear drink to Micah and he accepted. His fingers brushed hers and sent electricity tracing down her spine. “It’ll be easier for me to show you.”

She snagged a few more bottles and headed to the bedroom. Placing the bottles on the mattress, she retrieved her laptop and put it next to them, but Micah continued to linger in the doorway.

She beckoned him forward. “Come here.”

For a moment, it seemed he wouldn’t enter. His struggle was plainly evident from the white-knuckled grasp he had on the door frame and the tension in his shoulders.

Perhaps it was the alcohol or maybe the man himself, but Celeste’s tension disappeared, replaced by desire so potent it threatened to consume her. She’d never stood in a bedroom with him before the night of Drake’s wedding. There’d never been a reason for them to be alone together. But now he was all that stood between her and the loss of her entire world.

She kicked off her heels and went to him. “Please, Micah. Just trust me.”

She reached for him and he flinched. The rejection stung. What else had she expected? Her entire life she’d had to pretend he meant nothing to her.

“Celeste.” Her name was a warning upon his lips. Need was stamped on his hard features, the angles of his jaw more pronounced. “What is going on?”

“I’m trying to show you.” She succeeded in touching his arm. She wrapped her fingers around the steely hardness of his bicep and tugged. “Everything is saved on my hard drive.”

He allowed her to tow him forward. The heat of him soothed as much as it aroused. She ached to lean into him, to press her face into his chest and savor the spicy, male scent of him. It was a scent she’d never forget, a mixture of pine and outdoors, sunshine, and water.

She turned the laptop screen so he could see it and brought up a file she’d hidden in her personal folder. “Here. Read them for yourself.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the computer onto his lap. She retreated to the armchair on the opposite side of the room and nibbled on her thumbnail as he silently read.

She could recite the ten messages verbatim. The first one had been a mild threat, merely warning her away from doing an article on some of the best gardens in southern Georgia. She’d run the online article anyway, ignoring the subsequent warnings she received. By the sixth e-mail, the tenor had changed, growing increasingly frantic and threatening.

Micah looked up and caught her gaze. From the way his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared, he wasn’t immune to the menace inherent in the e-mails. “How long has this been going on?”

She was grateful only a lamp illuminated the room. She could pretend he wasn’t able to see her. “About a month.”

“And you’ve told no one?”

She shifted in the chair, uncomfortable with the way he looked at her, as if she were a child needing looking after. “I didn’t think the e-mails meant anything until recently.”

“These”—he waved his hand toward the laptop—“aren’t empty threats. Someone wants you out of the picture.”

“I gathered that.” Her instincts seldom proved her wrong. “The one thousandth anniversary edition of
Savannah Living
releases this month. We’ve planned a massive party to celebrate. As you read, someone wants to stop the celebration.”

Micah glanced back at the screen and read aloud, “‘The thousandth edition is the last one you’ll ever publish. Give up now or we’ll make you.’” He moved his attention back to her. “Yeah, I’d consider that a threat. What are we going to do?”

“We?” Warmth filled her at the signal he meant to help.

He tilted his head to the side and studied her. “The bastard sent someone after you. That made it our business as well.”

“The Randolphs, you mean.”

His expression darkened. “Mine,” he affirmed.

Butterflies erupted in her belly. The smooth tone of his voice, the absolute surety he meant to protect her, shot desire through her limbs. He may not be the alpha, but when Micah Randolph displayed his aggressive tendencies, it sent her heat level through the roof.

She ignored the dampness between her thighs and continued as if he hadn’t just turned her on with a simple word. “I need to make a statement to whoever is responsible and assure the public of the future of Proctor Publications. So that’s why I came tonight and propositioned you. I thought if we appeared at the celebration together, the person behind the threats would think twice before they tried to hurt my company.”

He flipped the laptop closed and set it aside. “You want me to be the muscle on your arm to save your company?”

Oh, she wanted more than his muscle. Focus. She needed to focus. “No one in their right mind would threaten me while I possessed the full support of your family.”

He stared at her for several moments before speaking. “You already have our support.”

“No.” She shook her head. “When Drake married Emma, I lost my standing within the Society. Not just in our world, Micah, but in the business world as well. It made me look weak to lose the man everyone thought I’d marry. You read the messages. You had to notice the correlation between the date of the first e-mail and Drake’s wedding.”

“Why would anyone care if Drake married someone else?”

“You don’t understand me.” Frustration built beneath the surface. So much of her image had been built around her supposed relationship with Micah’s brother, the uber-successful Savannah businessman. So many doors had opened before her once the rumor got around that she and Drake were an item. “Could be pure coincidence, but I have to do damage control regardless. You have no idea what it’s like to be a single female controlling the majority vote to one of the oldest and most profitable publishing companies in the country. I can’t appear weak.”

His eyes gleamed. “And I’m to be the damage control? You could’ve just told me. If you need a man on your arm for the party, I’ll do it. Hell, I’ll even pretend to be your boyfriend if that’s what it takes. You don’t have to tie yourself to me forever.”

She got out of the chair and crossed the room. His eyes remained on her the entire time, never once dropping from her face, even though she did her best attempt at a sultry approach. The alcohol loosened more than her inhibitions; it had thrown the floodgates to her desire wide open.

She stopped before him and tilted her head to look down at him. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m ready for a family. I want the best. The e-mails were just the catalyst.”

He placed his hands on her hips and pushed her aside. “I’m not keen on being runner-up in your master life plan. I’ll do what I can to help you, but don’t ask me for more.”

What else could she do? She wasn’t prepared to grovel. Neither could she bear to tell him he’d never been second place. Not once.

There was one tool she had at her disposal, and she wasn’t ashamed to use it. “You want me. Don’t deny it.”

He rose from the bed and faced her. “What does it matter if I do? You made your choice a long time ago. My family isn’t a department store, Celeste. You don’t get to select whichever Randolph strikes your fancy.”

His anger was well deserved. She’d played the cold ice princess too long for him to believe her feelings ran deeper than he’d ever know. “You’ve been in his shadow your entire life. For once, just take what you want and don’t worry what he thinks.”

Micah growled out a warning. “Don’t make this about my brother.”

“I’m not.” She prowled forward and stood toe to toe with him. “You are. You’re so scared of following in his footsteps you can’t see what’s right before you, even though you know we’re completely right for each other. Admit it, Micah. Admit you want me.”

He hauled her against his chest and clamped his arms tight about her waist. “Why should I? It doesn’t matter what I want. It’s never mattered.”

She lowered her voice and pressed closer. “It matters to me.”

“Don’t let your problems blind you to the truth.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “We’re not right for each other.”

She stared into his eyes, willing him to see what she’d always kept hidden. “We could be.”

CHAPTER THREE

How in the hell had it happened? One moment he was blinded by rage. The next he was consumed by lust strong enough to knock him on his ass.

Celeste didn’t know what she did to him. If she did, she’d turn and run. He didn’t want to only mate with her. He wanted to mark her, brand her as his own for the entire world to see. It wasn’t a case of wanting something of his brother’s. Drake’s claim on her was merely as the alpha to her beta. They were friends now. Nothing more.

Micah’s mind suspected the truth even if his heart didn’t. He’d never thought of her as Drake’s. He’d been unable to, no matter how much he tried.

He slid his hands lower and caressed the slope of her ass. The heat of her skin radiated through the leather and warmed his palms. What he wouldn’t give to peel the tight pants off and reveal the lush curves he’d only glimpsed once.

He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck. “Tell me to go.”

She wriggled her ass closer. “I don’t want you to.”

He groaned. “This is madness.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” She leaned backward and met his gaze. “I’m tired of being on my own. I want something that’s mine.”

“I’m not a piece of property you can add to your collection.”

She gave him a fierce frown. “I’m more than a spoiled rich girl.”

Let her go and walk away. He didn’t heed his subconscious’s advice. She was there, in his arms, and his cock took over thinking for him. There were very few things in life he was unable to resist, but she topped the short list.

Celeste ran her hands up his chest and cupped his shoulders. Her fingers curled into his skin, holding him in place even though he wasn’t thinking of running. “I’m tired of being the girl everyone thinks has everything. You don’t know what it’s like to be alone.”

“Sure, I do.” He lowered his head. The taste of her kiss would be a memory no longer, no more a dream that replayed over and over in his head at night. “Everyone is alone eventually.”

He moved his mouth closer, already imagining the sweet taste of her. He would’ve experienced the sweet joy of having her again had his phone not chosen that moment to ring.

He closed his eyes and cursed at the sound of the familiar ringtone. “It’s Drake.”

She stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her feet in the rush to get away from him. “Why’s he calling?”