Obession by Design

Evernight
Publishing ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2015 Ravenna Tate

 
ISBN: 978-1-77233-414-2

Cover Artist: Jay
Aheer

Editor:
Karyn
White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized
reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All
names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

Thank you to my readers who
supported the first book in this series, An Appetite for Blackmail. This is
Emmett’s story, and I hope you enjoy it.

OBSESSION BY DESIGN

The Weathermen, 2

Ravenna Tate

Copyright © 2015

Prologue

In
the year 2112, weather researchers around the globe made history with a
computer program nicknamed The Madeline Project. The program used a complicated
series of electrical pulses to induce changes in clouds. The intention was to
prevent or lessen catastrophic weather events such as major floods, tornadoes,
and hurricanes. The first real-time test, in 2116, proved moderately
successful, and the researchers continued to tweak the program, hoping for
complete weather modification one day.

But
something went terribly wrong in 2117, when a group of hackers gained access to
The Madeline Project and tried unsuccessfully to take it down it with a virus
they called Tommy Twister. The program took on a life of its own, and instead
of lessening the effects of weather
events,
it
increased them to catastrophic proportions. By 2118, over eighty-five percent
of the Earth above ground had been rendered uninhabitable due to the effects of
near-constant and powerful storms. And to date, no one has been able to stop
The Madeline Project, or find the hackers responsible for this devastation.

Now,
in the year 2124, Earth’s population lives underground in sprawling cities,
built during the nuclear war scare of 2072. Communication between cities and
across continents is only possible via the Internet. And the only people who go
above ground routinely are an international group of weather researchers and
storm chasers dubbed Storm Troopers. Their mission is to collect data during
the barrage of catastrophic weather events, in the hopes this data will assist
researchers in taking down The Madeline Project.

The
financial backing for these cities, the network of interconnected computers,
and the Storm Troopers is provided by a group of friends who met in college,
and who each built multi-million dollar communications and IT companies before
The Madeline Project went awry. They’re a powerful, wealthy, ruthless group of
men who take what they want, when they want it. They call themselves the
Weathermen…

Chapter
One

Liane
Peyton stood outside the
imposing building that housed Radcliffe Enterprises in the business quadrant of
the city called
SouthEast
.
On the top five floors of this monstrosity were the offices of Radcliffe
Software and Web Design, where her new boss, Emmett Radcliffe, was waiting for
her.

It
was an incredible opportunity for someone who, up until two weeks ago, had been
writing code for web designs that no one bought, because her former employer no
longer had customers. The company was broke, after years of mismanagement and
embezzlement had finally forced it out business. She was lucky to have found
this job.

She
hated leaving her father and maternal grandmother behind in
CentralEast
,
but the long-term care facility where they now lived was the best in that town,
and their care was free. She couldn’t ask for better than that. And, it’s not
like they would realize she’d moved over five hundred miles away. For the past
six months, neither one had recognized her when she’d gone to visit.

Liane
took several deep breaths,
inhaling the piped-in air of this bustling underground city, and steeled
herself
. This was not the time to dwell on the past. She was
twenty-eight years old with an MBA in web design, could write code as well as
anyone she knew, and she really needed this job. The competition for it had
been fierce, as it always was these days for anyone with IT skills. She knew
people with her same skills
who
were washing windows
or delivering take-out food for a living.

She’d
have been a fool to turn down this opportunity, no matter what city it was in.
Travel between cities took forever but was unrestricted. She could return to
see her father and grandmother as often as she wished, and whenever she could
find the time.

Liane
walked inside, putting on her
game face, and waited while the receptionist keyed in her name. A green light
illuminated the panel above an elevator behind him. The receptionist gave her a
fake smile and pointed.
“Top floor.
His administrative
assistant will meet you.”

“Thank
you.” She entered the elevator and pushed the button for the fifteenth floor.
Rarely were buildings so tall in any of the underground cities. She imagined
the view from this one would give a vista of most of the town.

As
the car ascended, she took in the clean scent of wood and the intricate
scrollwork on the panels lining the car. Even the elevator looked and smelled
like money, and that was a far cry from the dingy walls and slightly moldy
scent she’d been used to since earning her MBA and taking the first job she
could find.

 
As soon as the doors opened, a woman dressed
in a sharp navy suit with her hair pulled back into a ponytail greeted her with
a cold smile.
Liane
hoped this wasn’t a harbinger of
things to come. She wasn’t sure she could be happy working in a company where
no one was warm or genuine. “Miss Peyton?”

“Yes.”
Liane
stuck out her hand. “Call me
Liane
.” When people assumed she was single she rarely
corrected them. She’d lost her wedding ring when the storm came through that
had destroyed the town she lived in. Since she hadn’t had it on for very long
to begin with, there was no mark on her finger.

The
woman didn’t shake her hand. “My name is Tania. Follow me. Mr. Radcliff is
expecting you.”

The
dark, oppressive décor didn’t do much to lift her spirits as Tania led her
through so many twists and turns,
Liane
was convinced
she’d spend months lost in this building. Finally they stopped before a set of
double doors bearing a ridiculously large brass plaque that read, “Emmett J.
Radcliffe ~ President”.

Tania
knocked, and then a rich sexy voice called for them to come in. Tania opened
the doors and stepped aside so
Liane
could enter.
Liane
stood rooted to the spot when Emmett rose from behind
a long, curved wooden desk. “Thank you, Tania. I’ll buzz if I need you.”

Tania
nodded once without another glance at
Liane
, and then
she closed the doors behind her.
Liane
stared at
Emmett as he sauntered toward her with his hand extended. His grin was warm,
but held an unmistakable predatory quality. What the hell had she gotten herself
into here?

“Well,
there you are, finally.”

He
reached her, but
Liane
didn’t move. She’d never met
the man. The interview had been conducted over a video chat, but the feed had
been so distorted that day he’d abandoned the video portion and finished the
interview by phone. He’d hired her at the conclusion of the call.

She’d
seen pictures of him online, but they did not do him justice.
Liane
was mesmerized by his ice blue eyes and all that
dark, wavy hair, cut in a style too long for a man of his position. It gave him
an adventurous, dangerous quality that sent her pulse racing and made her clit
throb.

She
cleared her throat and forced her brain cells to synapse once more. “I’m a bit
late.” When she shook his hand, sparks flew up her arm. She’d read about shit
like that in trashy romance novels, but never believed it really happened to
actual human beings. She’d been wrong. “The traffic was heavier than I
expected.”

He
shook her hand with a strong firm grip and a dry palm, the grin still in place,
and his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yes, I’m afraid the replacement of
drain pipes is taking three times as long as they estimated it would, and has
slowed down transport to a crawl. Do you live close enough to walk? That might
be a better option until they’re finished with this project.”

At
least he wasn’t upset with her. That was a good start. “I don’t know yet. I
came straight from my old place this morning.”

His
grin faded, and he still hadn’t let go of her hand.
“In
CentralEast
?”

“Yes.
I hope the construction doesn’t slow down my moving company by too long.”

“You
mean you aren’t even moved in yet?”

“No.
I gave the apartment manager at my new place permission to let the movers
inside, and asked him to have the boxes stacked up in their respective rooms.
The cartons are marked, so even if they screw that up, I’ll still know where to
find everything.”

Emmett
finally let go of her hand. “Well then, I should let you go and take care of
getting settled in today. You won’t be able to concentrate on work with that on
your mind.”

“Yes,
I will. I don’t worry about things like that.”

He
nodded slightly, gave her an appreciative smile, and then swept his hand toward
a wall of windows and the conference table in front of it. “Have a seat. Let’s
discuss your duties.”

She
took a seat facing the windows, and instead of sitting across from her or at
least leaving a chair or two between them, he sat right next to her. She caught
a whiff of his cologne.
Expensive, unassuming, and sexy as
hell.
Liane
moved away slightly, with the excuse
of getting a better view of the town. “It’s very pretty here. I love how they
planted palm trees and bushes only found in the southern states above ground.”

“That
was the idea.” His voice washed over her, smooth and easy. “When the cities
were planned in 2072, the architects at
BrentCait
Enterprises wanted them to resemble the states under which they were built.
That’s why they’re divided up in this way. Each one lies underneath what used
to be several states.”

She
averted her gaze. It was difficult not to think of her life above ground
whenever anyone mentioned it. How long would it be this way? Or would she
always return to that time in her mind?
Liane
knew
people who were thrilled to live underground, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever
grow used to it or be content with it.

He
hadn’t asked about her background or family during the interview, but it
wouldn’t take a genius to dig up the truth. Surely a man who was president of
the web design and software division of a multi-billion dollar communications corporation
knew how to find personal information on an employee. If he asked, she’d tell
him, but she hoped she wouldn’t have to.
Especially not on
her first day.

“Yes,”
she said, forcing a light tone to her voice. “I remember reading about the
architects and the planning of these cities in school. I believe you know the
actual Brent and
Cait
Easton, is that correct?”

His
smile was full of amusement. “You’ve done your homework. I do know them, and
I’m good friends with their son, Ace.”

Arturo
Charles Easton was as much a legend in the communications industry as this man
sitting next to her was. Her new boss obviously had friends in high places.
Even if he did sit too close to his employees. “In the interview you said I’d
be on the design team for new websites. Is that correct?”

He
narrowed his eyes slightly and leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingers
under his chin. “That was my original plan, yes.” She watched him push a button
on the console at the edge of the table, and a tablet unfolded from a hidden
compartment. It was then she noticed grooves in the table in front of each
chair. How convenient. Instead of staring at each other during meetings,
everyone could watch their own tablet.

“I
hired you because of your accomplishments in graduate school, not because of
the work you did for that crook.”

Liane
bit back a smile. She knew it
was no secret what her former boss had done, but it was refreshing to see
someone of Emmett’s caliber not sweep it under the rug or try to dismiss it as
a “mistake”. “I did some pretty good work for him before the company went
under.”

Emmett
brought up a website which she couldn’t quite see yet. “I know that. It’s not
only good work you did. It’s amazing. You have a natural flair for design.” He
turned his gaze on her and let it roam lazily over her suit, bare legs,
designer pumps and then back up again. When his eyes finally met hers once
more, the room was way too warm and her heart was racing. “Even the way you
dress tells me you have an attention for detail, and you like things to line up
nice and neatly. It’s why you write code so well.”

She
shifted her weight, wondering where the hell this was leading. If this man
turned out to be nothing more than a sleazebag who tried to get her into bed,
she’d be disappointed. The rumors about him ranged from a notorious flirt all
the way to a lecherous and dangerous man, but she had hoped they were also
exaggerated or downright false. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

He
swiveled the mechanism on which the tablet sat so she could see the screen.
“Remember this?”

She
stared at the website, hardly daring to breathe. Sweat broke out along her
hairline and under her arms, and she had to clasp her hands in her lap to stop
them from trembling. “Where did you find this?”

“I’ll
take that as a ‘yes’.”

“Yes,
I remember it.” She felt his eyes boring into hers but couldn’t meet his gaze.
“It was a joke. A college prank. They told us they had taken it down.”

“They
did,” he said quietly. “But the Internet is forever,
Liane
.”

“Then
why did you hire me?”

“Because
you’re beautiful and talented, and I need people like that on my teams.”

She
sighed out loud and finally forced her gaze to meet his. “Is that what this is
all about? You hired me merely to blackmail me into your bed over something I
did when I was eighteen? Emmett, that was ten years ago.”

He
had the grace not to look surprised, but he did laugh. She should have been
angry at the laugh, but it held an undercurrent of nervousness, which confused
her so much that she stayed in her seat. “You’re direct. I like that, too.” His
attention roamed over her face and then into her cleavage. He tapped the
screen. “Want to tell me about this? And I don’t mean the official version I
read in the university disciplinary hearing transcript. Tell me the story
behind it.
The
real
story.”

It
didn’t escape her notice that he hadn’t answered her question, but it did dawn
on her that he wasn’t upset about this. Intrigued, she settled back in her
chair, and unclasped her hands.
“On one condition.”

The
corners of his mouth turned up. “I’m not sure you have any bargaining chips.”

“You’re
right. I don’t. But there is something I need you to agree to before I tell you
this, because knowing the truth won’t only affect me. There were others
involved, and I don’t want this to come back to bite them.”

He
tilted his head slightly. “Why do you care what happens to the others?”

She
swallowed hard. This was exactly what she had not wanted to do today. Dredge up
the past. As she stared from that damn website to his handsome face and back
again, she realized she only had two choices. Tell him everything, or walk away
and try to find another job.