Reckless (Bertoli Crime Family #2) (24 page)

“Use you and then just leave?” Jonathan offered.

I nodded my head.

He walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. Normally I’d be jumping away, but he seemed sincere. “Honey, he does it to every girl that walks through that door.” Jonathan pauses as if debating on whether he should continue speaking. “But walking through that door and never coming back is the best thing that will ever happen to you.”

His words chilled me. “Why do you say that?”

He looked at me and I could see sadness in his eyes. “You look like a nice girl, nicer than the ones that usually come through here, and I’m sure you have a bright future ahead of you.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I say firmly.

Jonathan stared at me and then let out a sigh. “Mr. Locklin has a past.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What kind of past?”

Jonathan took a long time to reply. “I don’t know if I should be saying this, but Tyler’s a scarred young man. Nothing a lot of men don’t go through at some point in their lives, but he took it hard, and because of this, he never stays with any woman for long. Most of them only get one night, two or three at most, but never much longer than that.”

Knowing that Tyler is a womanizer, I should have understood this. But then why am I getting so mad about it? It didn’t help matters that his butler was acting so mysteriously about him.

When I got right down to it, I didn't really know who Tyler Locklin was and had no business in his place.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” I said finally, looking around for my dress. “I’m ready to go now.”

I
couldn't stop thinking
about her. It wasn’t like me at all, my thoughts being consumed by a woman after a night with one. I don’t know what it was about Victoria, but she put a spell on me and it frustrated the hell out of me.

For the longest time, I'd been able to sleep with girls and leave them without a second thought. Now, it was hard to get through the day without thinking about her—her smile, her curvy figure, and most of all, her headstrong personality. Not only that, but hearing her story about her being estranged from both parents and struggling to make ends’ meet while working for a bitchy egomaniac made me feel for her. She made me want to be a better person, a better man. To provide for her.

It frightened the shit out of me, because for the first time in my life, I felt like I was losing control.

"The board is preparing," Jeff told me.

We were sitting in the boardroom after a long day of work. My peers acted no differently with me than normal, laughing and joking and carrying on, giving no indication that they were about to vote on my removal.

But they were fools, all of them.

I'd make sure I knew everyone who was planning to vote against me. When I came out of this mess triumphant and with a smile on my face, every last one of them would pay dearly.

"They are?" I asked nonchalantly. "How convenient."

Jeff stared at me. "Aren't you a little bit worried?"

"No," I replied as I kicked my feet up onto the marble table to infuriate Jeff. "Why should I be?"

"Because Charles Whitmore is about to have your job."

He was obviously trying to piss me off by mentioning Charles, but it didn't work. After long, hard thinking, I’d come up with a plan that would make everyone happy and resolve my dilemma.

I'd made a decision.

"That's not going to happen," I said with all confidence.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

It was hard for me to say my next words, but I managed it. "Because I'm ready . . . to behave.

F
or the past several weeks
, Tyler had taken me on a whirlwind of a romance. From upscale night clubs to expensive restaurants, Tyler took me everywhere. We were inseparable.

I had no idea why I'd accepted his offer to start dating, especially considering the warning given to me by practically everyone, but I guess I couldn't help himself.

All it had taken was a bouquet of roses, a bottle of expensive wine and Tyler's playful grin to convince me to go against what my brain was telling me.

In a way, I suppose I felt special. After all, it was rumored that Tyler didn't give a girl more than a day or two of his time, and here he was giving me weeks.

Despite the warning signs going off in the back of my mind, I was thrilled beyond belief. Here was this incredibly handsome and rich guy who could literally have any woman he wanted—and he wanted me.

And the wild, crazy sex that involved a bit of domination? I lived for it. Rough and exciting, each time was like a dangerous adventure where I never knew where I'd wind up.

I was so caught up in my new arrangement that Christine's mistreatment of me at work ceased to bother me. The only thing that mattered in my world was Tyler.

* * *

I
was working
with April and Gabe in the factory room, helping with the finishing touches on the wedding gown for Tyler's best friend's wedding, when a young man came walking in.

Tall, blonde and handsome, he was dressed in a business suit, and it looked as if he was looking for something, or someone.

April and Gabe were busy talking to a group of workers while they complained about a problem with a gown, and I was the only one who seemed to notice the guy, so I walked over.

"May I help you?" I asked politely.

The man looked at me for a moment and then smiled. I noticed that he had straight, white teeth. "I'm looking for Victoria Young."

What the hell could he want with me?
I wondered.

"You're speaking to her."

He was surprised. "Oh." He held out his hand. "I'm Charles Whitmore, an executive from Armex."

For some reason, his name sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. But I did recognize the name of Tyler’s company.

After a moment, I took his hand and gently shook it. He firmly had my attention now. I wondered what this was going to be about. "Nice to meet you," I said. "So what brings you here?"

And why the hell are you looking for me?

Charles shifted on his feet and then glanced over at April and Gabe. “Can we talk?”

“I’m kinda busy,” I said. “If you can just tell me what this is about.”

Charles gave me a look that brought me up short. “It’s about Tyler.”

* * *

“
Y
ou’re making a big mistake
,” Charles said to me.

We were sitting in a high-class coffee shop down the street from the corporate fashion building. He ordered me a latte that was topped by a mound of whip cream.

I played with it a little. “How’s that?”

“Tyler . . . he’s no good.” He gestured at me. “This relationship he has going with you? It won’t last.”

I scowled. “I fail to see how our relationship is any of your business.” Honestly, I didn't know why I agreed to talk with this Charles guy.

Jonathan’s words came back to me in that moment, filling me with anxiety.

Walking through that door and never coming back is the best thing that will ever happen to you

Charles pressed his fingertips together and gave me a direct gaze. “It does when it affects my position at my company.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Before you came around, Tyler was on the verge of losing his position due to his . . . uncouth behavior. He’d slept with so many women that I’m sure he lost count. His dalliances were costing us, and when confronted about it, he refused to stop—which is why we were going to vote to remove him. Then you show up, and suddenly he says he’ll clean up his act.”

I glared. “So what are you saying? He’s just playing me?”

Charlie nodded. “Like a fiddle.”

“I think I’ve heard about enough of this,” I hissed. “I’ve let you waste enough of my time.” I rose from my seat, my latte still untouched.

“A word of caution, Miss Young,” Charles said, giving me pause. “Keep messing with Tyler, and you’ll likely find yourself without a job.” He looked me up and down critically. “And after everyone finds out you were Tyler’s little whore, you’ll only find work on the street corner with the looks you have.”

His words were more than I could take. Without thinking, I grabbed the latte and splashed it all over his suit.

“Fuck you, asshole!” I growled.

Cutting my eyes, I turned and walked out, leaving him sputtering.

I
wiped
the whipped cream off with a napkin and cracked a smile. There was fire in that one. I could see why Tyler was intrigued with her.

My intuition told me this one wasn't quite the same; she seemed more high class. Maybe that’s why Tyler was seeing her long-term—she represented a challenge.

Whatever the case, my mission was accomplished. I’d planted the seed in her mind, and her fears and insecurities would do the rest.

“Is everything alright, sir?” a light voice asked. I turned to see a waitress staring at me.

“I’m fine." I give her a smile and she smiled back.

“Why did that lady throw her latte on you?” she had to ask.

“Her boyfriend left her and she’s having a mental breakdown.”

“Oh that sucks. She didn’t have to take it out on you, though.”

I shook my head. “Nope, she didn’t. So . . . what’s your name?”

“
W
e’re going
to meet my father,” Tyler said to me.

We were riding in his limo, because Tyler had begun giving me rides to and from work in the lap of luxury. I was looking forward to going back to Tyler’s place and relaxing. That dream was shattered, however, once I got in the car.

He informed me that his father wanted to meet me. Since Tyler had agreed to clean up his act, his father wanted to meet me.

I was fine with it, but I now had doubts. Warnings from Tyler’s butler—and now, Charles Whitmore—had me on edge. I hadn’t spoken to Tyler about either one of them . . . yet.

“Do we have to?” I asked. “I’m kinda tired.”

Tyler shook his head. “It’ll only take a minute. He just wants to meet you and find out a little about you.”

I groaned.

Tyler placed a hand on my leg and I felt sparks through his fingertips. “Please, baby?” he asked me. “For me?”

I was shocked. I’d never heard him say please to anyone. And he topped it off with
baby
. I had to admit, I liked it.

“Say that again,” I urged him.

“What?”

“Baby.”

He leaned forward and kissed me softly on the lips. “Please, baby.”

I decided then that I’d do anything he asked. “All right,” I said. “Whatever you want.”

* * *

W
hen Tyler
and I walked into the Locklin mansion, my jaw dropped . . . and it wasn’t because of the opulence of the place.

There, standing in the foyer with who I assumed was Tyler’s father, was my mother, decked in expensive jewelry and an evening gown that probably cost a fortune, a wine glass in her hand.