Restraining the Receptionist: ... the Receptionist, Book 2 (10 page)

“If you truly love her, then you’d realize, as I do, that she was born for trouble. Our job is to make sure she enjoys it.” I caught a flash of blue in the dimness—a wink.

“She can’t enjoy anything if she’s dead. Or traumatized.” Simon tried to push me behind him, but I refused to budge from my front row seat at this drama.

“Which is why I had to go trotting after her to make sure nothing too terrible came her way.”

“So now you’re the big hero? It won’t work, Ethan. She’s afraid of you. Thinks you’re a twisted bastard.”

Something flinched in Ethan’s eyes, something I felt in my gut. “Is that true, Dana?”

“I might have said that,” I admitted. “But I didn’t know you as well then.”

“Dana, just because he knocked around some assholes doesn’t change anything. That shit’s easy for him. He was an undercover agent, for Chrissake.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes to thin slits of glacier blue. Simon refused to back down. He stuck out his chest and matched him stare for stare. The moments ticked past. I looked from one to the other, amazed that these two stupendously fine men were battling over me.

“Fine. I leave it up to her,” Ethan said finally. “Dana, you can walk away if you want. No hard feelings. Or you can stay at the firm.”

I started to speak. He held up his hand. “But—if you stay, the old deal is off.” He quelled Simon with a dose of Blue Fury. “If those terms aren’t acceptable to you, we’ll give you excellent references, a nice severance package, whatever you need.”

“Is…is that what you want?”

“Absolutely not,” he said promptly. “I want to ravage your sweet body whenever I get the urge. I want to hear you scream for mercy. I want to tie you up and break you down and hear you beg for more. But Simon’s right. We owe you. I leave it in your hands.”

He turned to hunt for his clothes. I watched the muscles move in his magnificent backside while his words still rang in my head. His limp, more pronounced than usual, caught my eye. Maybe mornings made it worse. Maybe beating up bad guys made it worse. Maybe waking up to hear us talking about leaving him made it worse.

“Ethan,” I said impulsively. “What did you mean, ‘as I do’.”

“Eh?” He located his underwear, gray Calvin Klein briefs.

“You said, ‘if you truly love Dana, you’d know, as I do…’ I heard you. That’s what you said.”

“What of it?” He pulled on his briefs with barely a glance my way.

“Are you saying that you know me and love me?”

My question hung in the air like a smoke ring. I breathed it in, wondering what had possessed me to go there. Ethan continued to dress in silence until he was entirely clothed. “I’m not the sort of man who falls in love.”

I caught my breath.

“I seem to operate differently from other men. I have my own way of loving. Call it what you will. But it’s real. And it’s for you. You’ll have to decide if it’s something you want in your life.”

With a predator’s grace, he strolled to the door. We watched him go, Simon and I, like lost lambs in the wilderness. Ethan had rescued us from a nightmare. Now he was walking away.

“In case I don’t see you again, Dana, do one thing for me.” He didn’t look back as he spoke.

“What?” I whispered.

“Don’t doubt yourself. Ever.”

Chapter Nine

Simon and I lay down on the king-sized bed, side by side, and gazed at each other. So many thoughts tumbled through my head, but I couldn’t sort them out enough to say them out loud. Images from the night before bounced around like pinballs. Even with this small amount of distance, they had a cartoonish quality. Maybe thanks to the drugs, maybe to my highly developed survival skills, my memory blurred even the leader of the pack. He seemed like a ridiculous moustache-twirler now. And so the first sound either of us made was a giggle.

Simon lifted his head onto his elbow. “Are you laughing?”

“They actually offered me a job. At double the salary.”

“If you ever consider anything like that—” Simon’s scowl made me giggle even more.

“The only reason I’d go work for them is so I could secretly sabotage their business or poison their coffee. Geez.”

Simon relaxed back onto the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. “What a mess. Can you ever forgive me?”

I was starting to get seriously irritated. “I’m not some helpless damsel in distress. I chose to follow you to Atlantic City. I was sitting in that bar of my own free will. I didn’t like the looks of those guys either, but that didn’t stop me from guzzling their margaritas.”

“But aren’t you angry?”

“Sure I am. At them for being sick pricks. At me for momentarily forgetting everything I learned from the age of three. But not at you.”

“Or at Ethan. Still think he’s a bastard?”

“No. Yes. Well, he can be.” The complexities of Ethan Cowell didn’t fit into one word. I ran my foot along his leg.

“He’s something, isn’t he?”

Hard to argue with that. “I guess that about says it.”

“I’ve never before heard him do what he just did with you.”

“What?”

“Give you a choice. A straight-out choice. Up to you, it’s your decision, that sort of thing.” He threw an arm over his eyes. “Usually he manages things so you do what he wants, even if it seems like your choice.”

“You never had a choice?”

“No. But that’s my problem. I love the man.” All kinds of history filtered through his voice. I’d probably never unearth all the layers of Simon and Ethan’s relationship. “I give him what he needs, and now I think it’s what I need too. But I’m never entirely sure.”

He sat up so suddenly I nearly rolled off the bed. “But none of that is your worry. Here.” He grabbed his pants off the nightstand and rummaged through his pockets until he found a credit card. His personal card. He picked up the phone and two minutes later, I had a ride back to Long Island. The driver would be out front of the hotel in ten minutes.

“But what about you?” I scrambled out of bed to pull on my dress, the sight of which made me want to vomit. I’d gone through way too much in that dress. When I got home I’d have to turn it into dishrags or something. Maybe a nest for the rats that lived in my building. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“No. I don’t want to influence you. You know I love you. You know I want you to be safe. The rest is up to you.” He stood up, the towel dropping from his hips. God, he was a beautiful man, especially with the oncoming light of dawn turning his torso into a shadowy mountain range of muscles. I loved how he walked, with that pirate flair, like the rebel lord of all he surveyed. I still couldn’t believe such a hellaciously sexy man had entered my life.

He came close to me, so close I drank in the familiar scent of his skin, mixed with a stale hangoverish smell. I leaned my forehead against his chest and felt his tender touch on my back. He dropped a kiss on my hair, so light it could have been a moth fluttering by. “See you soon.”

As parting words, they weren’t much, but they reassured me during my long, lonely drive to Low-Life. No matter what I decided, I’d see Simon soon. The thought brought me a huge feeling of relief. I needed Simon in my life. That part was a no-brainer.

We drove around Manhattan to avoid all the rush hour, workday traffic. Everyone in the world was on their way to work, it seemed, except me. Secretaries, plumbers, construction workers, teachers, CEO’s, bus drivers, bakers, candlestick makers. It felt very strange to be headed…home, I suppose. That’s where Simon had told the driver to take me. But home was always so dull compared to work. I’d noticed this strange fact early on. Most people looked forward to their weekends. For me, they seemed to last forever. I came alive when I walked into Cowell & Dirk and got my first eyeful of Simon. Simon was better than a cup of black coffee when it came to perking me up.

And when Ethan strolled in, usually a good half hour after the two of us, the adrenaline rush equalled a shot of triple espresso. Could I do without that Ethan-high? Could I cut back from two incredible men…to one? From one job to none?

As I think I’ve said before, I have an addictive personality. The thought of either of those things made me shiver like a junkie whose dealer just got busted.

But Ethan was trouble. Big trouble. It wasn’t his fault that I’d ended up in that nightmare. And he’d rescued me. But at the same time, without him, I wouldn’t have ever gone to Atlantic City. He pushed me there. That’s what Ethan did. He pushed me. He made things happen. Pushed my boundaries. Pushed me so far I nearly got burned.

If I had any sense at all, I’d grab this window of get-the-hell-out and run like the wind. It’s not like I’d have to run far. Simon would be right there, waiting for me with open arms.

And yet, and yet…nothing too terrible had happened. Ethan had gotten there just in time. He was like a fisherman who’d let the line go far, far out, then reeled it back in. He’d let me dance my way into danger, then snatched me back before I could be harmed. Ethan would never let anything too bad happen to me. But the ride would be wild. The question was, would it be too wild?

I didn’t want to go back to my apartment. When we got close to my neighborhood, I leaned in to the driver and said, “Drop me at the corner, please.”

“That corner, by the alley?”

“That’s the one. Don’t worry, none of the criminals are awake at this hour.”

Reluctantly, he did as I directed, and I walked down the grungy alley, kicking aside brown paper bags as I went, until I reached Inktation, my tattoo studio and spiritual haven. Of course it wasn’t open yet, but I happened to know a back way in. I jimmied open the window and crawled through.

The smell of rubbing alcohol embraced me like a lover. God, I loved this place. I made my way past the boxes of supplies, gloves and inks and such, and onto Bobby O’s table, where all the magic happened. That’s where I fell asleep. And that’s where all the answers came to me.

I woke up like Sleeping Beauty being shaken awake by a dreadlocked, frowning Prince. “What are you doing here, Dana? I got appointments all day today.”

“Bobby O!” I flung my arms around him. “I got a rush job for you.”

“You can’t rush art.”

“Fine. I have a job that you can take all day with. And bonus, you get to see something you haven’t seen in a while.”

And one last time, I took off that damn sundress.

Two weeks later, having completed my vacation and recuperation, I arrived at the office of Cowell & Dirk with a brand new attitude. I’d done a lot of thinking as I healed. Healing is a fascinating process, in case you never noticed. Your body has this magical power to recreate itself into something new and different. Similar to what existed before, but always a bit changed. It could be a bump or a scar or a variation in texture. Same is true of the inside too. We experience pain or injury, we heal, but we’re never quite the same afterwards.

But as a diehard ink-lover, I believe we’re even more beautiful after the healing.

I unlocked the office and walked into the quiet, beige foyer where it had all started. The smell of copy machine and lemon Pledge, with a hint of coffee, welcomed me. My nipples tightened. Yes, I’m well trained that way. I scrutinized the room as I walked to my desk. Nothing had changed. My chair was still positioned exactly how I liked it. When I opened the top right hand drawer where I kept the headset, it winked back at me like an old friend.

I lovingly put it on my head and began retrieving the messages that had come in overnight. Someone, clearly, had been taking Cowell & Dirk’s calls. But not at my desk. Maybe they’d hired an answering service until I came back.

Someone from the Woodfield Group had left a message. The name sent quivers down my spine. The message said simply, “Please let Dana Arthur know that all the paperwork has been completed, and that she has our most sincere apologies.”

That threw me for a loop. Paperwork? I didn’t accept their apologies, and I wanted nothing to do with their paperwork. But I shoved the Woodfield Group out of my mind. I didn’t want them to ruin my first day back at work.

I checked my outfit, a high-necked, sleeveless white tank top and a red skirt with a slit up the side. What lurked beneath, Ethan and Simon would have to discover, if they chose. I gnawed my lip and worried over how they would react to my decision. I logged onto the computer and checked the time in the corner. Almost nine. My heart sped up as time seemed to slow.

My two bosses came in together. One minute I was alone, the next, I looked up and there they were, two gods in jackets and ties. A blue-eyed Viking god and a green-eyed Celtic god, if they had them. Can’t say I studied much history.

“Good morning,” I greeted them. “I hope you’re both well.”

Two sets of eyes scanned me. How I’d missed that feeling of being visually consumed with loving lust. My nipples poked at my tank as if eager to go greet the two men in person. I stood. “I’ve made coffee for us all.”

Simon hurried to open the door to the inner office for me. His eyes blazed into mine as I passed. It felt so good to see him again. So good I wanted to fall into his arms right then and there. But the three of us had business to complete, so I restrained myself.

We poured ourselves coffee in Styrofoam cups. I made a note to myself to bring mugs to the office and save a few trees. Or weird plasticky chemicals, in this case. I didn’t mind washing a cup now and then.

“You look good, sweetheart,” said Simon, low in my ear. “You’re doing okay?”

“I’m perfect,” I told him with a wink.

He finally cracked a smile. “We all know that already.”

I flipped my hair over my shoulder, feeling saucy and fine. “Shall we convene in your office? Or Ethan’s perhaps?”

“Mine,” said Ethan, without expression. The man pulled off enigmatic like nobody’s business. But I knew him by now. Hardass with a heart of gold. Or a dick of gold, in this case.

As always, my wisecracks, even when unspoken, helped me cope with my nerves. My hands were shaking as I led them into Ethan’s office. Ethan positioned himself by the window, arms crossed. Simon stayed close to me. I perched on the desk, legs crossed. The slit in my skirt exposed my legs up to the thigh. Simon’s gaze slid up my leg and settled on my crotch. But Ethan’s stayed glued to my face.