The Billionaire's Masquerade (The Friendship Series) (12 page)

“I’m good,” she replied, banking all of her fatigue for later. She could sleep on the weekend, she promised herself. “I just need to get that file and we can be on our way.” She stepped out of his arms and walked around him, digging into her leather bag for the blue file Jennifer had given her earlier today. When she had it in hand, she stood up and turned around, only to find him staring at her bottom.

“What were you doing?” she asked suspiciously, her eyes narrowed on his handsome features. She knew exactly what he’d been doing and he didn’t appear embarrassed at having been caught!

Emerson tore his eyes away, looking into hers. “Admiring the artwork,” he said with a slight smile. “Let’s go.”

She followed him out, not taking the time or energy to be angry with him about his voyeuristic tendencies. She followed behind him, reading the information in the file folder as they descended once again to the street level. Sure enough, the driver was already standing by so all they had to do was dive into the back of the sleek, black car and the driver sped them away towards their destination. She didn’t even need to look up from the material.

Unfortunately, the ride was short and she didn’t have time to read through all of the information, much less memorize what she had been able to read. So she stepped out of the car, ready to wing it for the night and hoping she didn’t let Ja…Emerson down at some terribly awkward moment.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to say too much. The food at the gala was almost decadent and everyone appeared to be having a fabulous time, laughing and conversing, kissing cheeks and welcoming Emerson back into their fold. For his part, Emerson was the ultimate charmer, moving her from group to group, introducing her to everyone and ensuring that she was included in all the conversations. After leaving the dinner, they went through the same motions, had almost the same conversations and the reaction to Emerson’s appearance was just as tedious as at the dinner party. The elegant living room and dining room in the house were lit up with lights everywhere and the champagne and other drinks were floating all around on trays held aloft by experienced waiters and waitresses.

By the time Emerson led her back into his penthouse, she was so tired she thought that her eyes might be covered with sandpaper. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep without shoes. She didn’t care about anything else, just getting these forest green stilettos off of her feet would be bliss.

She wasn’t sure if she even brushed her teeth before she fell into the big bed. A part of her mind told her to find another room, that this was Emerson’s bed and she shouldn’t be sleeping with him after all of his lies, but she was too tired to move, much less care at this point.

Rachel wasn’t even aware of Emerson stripping off his tuxedo and coming to bed. Nor did she wake up when he pulled her into his arms, making sure that her head was resting on his chest instead of the pillow. It took him a long time to fall asleep though. Holding Rachel close, all he wanted to do was bury himself in her heat and make love to her. But she was exhausted and he preferred his lovers conscious and he knew that she was still confused and angry.

Patience, he told himself. He had to make this work. He had to keep her in his life.

Chapter 5

Rachel suppressed the pain caused by sleep deprivation and pretended like everything was okay. But it wasn’t okay. She was miserable and feeling hopeless. What was worse, she had no idea how to get out of this mess she’d created for herself.

She’d been living with Emerson in Manhattan for almost a month now and she felt like she was going to break if he asked one more thing of her.

She spoke to Nikki and Brianna barely once a week now, missing them terribly. They tried to be encouraging, but Rachel could hear the concern in their voices. She was simply too tired and overwhelmed to figure out how to reassure both of them.

And, what made everything worse, she wanted Emerson so badly, she was almost crying over her need to have him hold her and make love to her. Unfortunately, she knew that she’d brought all of this on herself. After that first night, she’d put her foot down about sleeping in another room. She’d woken up to him kissing her neck. It had been the first test of her strength to pull out of his arms that morning and she’d almost failed. She had no idea where she’d found the power, but she’d pushed him away, shaking her head and informing him in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t have sex with a stranger.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from trying. Every night, he took her into his arms, kissed her until she was nearly senseless with desire. So far, she’d been able to withstand his drugging kisses, but she was holding on only through sheer stubbornness over how he’d made her look like a fool.

If she could go back and do all of this over again, she’d completely eliminate that speech she’d given to Jack last month. Her feelings had changed about needing to make it in New York, not letting herself down and facing her fears. If she had her way, she’d move up to Cape Elizabeth, buy herself a computer and start a small investment firm with just the locals as her clients.

Or maybe she’d do something completely different. Something that had nothing to do with investments or money or stocks. Maybe she would do something with her hands, something that would keep her mind from ever having to calculate stock ratios or profit variances.

First, she would sleep for a whole week, she interjected into her fantasy.

Now that she’d had a taste of both sides, she knew that she preferred the simple life. What she was doing now, it wasn’t living. It was surviving. And she was barely even doing that! She’d heard Wall Street referred to as a jungle but this wasn’t a jungle. At least in the jungle, there were moments of peace and tranquility, a few spectacular pauses where the surrounding beauty could still one’s heart.

This was guerrilla warfare. Living in Manhattan, trying to keep up with all the latest gossip and discovering hidden problems with potential target companies, listening to endless people trying to convince her to invest in this company or that commodity…it was a sad and pathetic lifestyle that she had grown to hate. From the moment she woke up in the morning alone until Emerson took her into his arms at night to try and convince her to come to bed with him, she hated every moment of this life.

If only Emerson could go back to being Jack again. She had no idea what he was thinking most of the time. His face was blank, not giving her any clue as to what he might feel or think or care about. Until he took her into his arms. Then she knew exactly what he was thinking.

At least, she assumed what he was thinking.

And she really didn’t like that. She wanted him to care about her. She used to love the man but she’d been in love with Jack. She didn’t know this Emerson man. She had no idea what he wanted in life except to make more money.$

She pulled herself out of bed and walked unsteadily to the shower. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her, she thought as she turned on the shower. She’d told Jack that this was what she’d wanted. She’d wanted the brass ring, all the excitement and power of Wall Street. She wanted to make money so that she never had to worry about where her next meal was coming or what would happen if someone got sick. She remembered her parents’ fights about money and all the hardships her family had endured growing up.

She leaned her head against the cold, hard marble, letting the warm water flow over her back. She couldn’t do this, she thought silently. Well, that wasn’t really true, she told herself as she grabbed the shampoo. She could do it. She was doing it. She just didn’t want to do it. There was a significant difference in wanting to do this life and being intellectually able to handle this lifestyle. She could handle it intellectually. She’d proven that over the past month. She’d gone through all the motions, learned a great deal about investing and how to shift funds quickly to take advantage of changing political and economic environments. She couldn’t believe how much money one could make simply by a penny change in the Libor rates or if the currency rate changed.

But it was exhausting keeping up with all of that. She didn’t know how Emerson did it.

She stopped and laughed, her hair full of suds which were also running down her body. But the laughter took over her too-tired body and she stood in the shower laughing almost hysterically. She was honestly thinking of Emerson and Jack as two different people. They weren’t two people, they were two sides of the same man. She was possibly going a bit crazy, but she couldn’t help it. Jack and Emerson might be the same man, but the two personalities were completely different. She could see how Emerson might be in Jack. There had been flashes of his dominating, powerful persona behind the laughing, beguiling man she’d learned to love. But there wasn’t any of Jack in Emerson. It was almost as if the fun-loving, laid back “Jack” part of the man were completely suppressed. Oh, Emerson could be just as charming as the Jack part of him, but there was a ruthlessness in his smile, a glint in his eye that told her he was always working the angle, forming a plan. He wasn’t ever relaxed, he wasn’t ever just laughing because he was amused. He laughed for effect, to put someone at ease before he went in for the kill.

She missed Jack, she thought as she rinsed out her hair. She stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself. She glanced out of bathroom window and noticed that the rest of the city was just starting to wake up even though the sun hadn’t yet started its rise over the horizon.

She’d always been an early riser, but she’d been out until past midnight the previous night and all she wanted to do was crawl back into that soft bed and sleep for the rest of the day. There had been yet another charity event last night where she’d met a few new people, discussed several new ideas and ignored several others. She wasn’t shocked by how much business was done during these social events anymore. She no longer considered that she was finished with work when she left the office. In her mind, she was merely done with her in-office business and the out-of-office hours began. Both served a purpose and she now understood that one side of the business couldn’t be successful without the other. Too many connections were made during both sides, deals negotiated, positions defined…every moment, both in the conference rooms as well as the ballrooms, were battles to be fought and won.

And she was disgusted with all of it.

Walking into her closet filled with fabulous clothes, she looked at each of the suits, trying to remember what was on her schedule for the day. Actually, she wasn’t completely sure what day it was. They were all blurring into a hazy, grey mess in her mind. There were no weekends anymore. She worked seven days a week, trying to get ahead of the others in the office.

Which only made the clothing decision that much more difficult, she thought as she continued to stare at her wardrobe. She could go get her cell phone and pull it up. Jennifer was probably already in the office or she’d done something at her home. The woman really was a dynamo.

“Don’t wear that,” a deep voice said from behind her.

Rachel spun around, catching her breath when she saw Emerson standing in her doorway. She was surprised that he wasn’t wearing a suit, or even a pair of slacks and a sports jacket. As her tired eyes drank him in, she didn’t even remember to tell him to get out of the room she’d moved into. She simply stared at him dumbly, taking in his appearance in a well-worn pair of jeans that made his legs look longer and sexier. She pulled the towel higher, making sure everything was covered, reminding herself that she didn’t like this man, but it was hard to think clearly when he was looking so sexy in jeans.

Jeans?

That completely threw her. “What’s going on?” she asked, not sure she could take any more surprises. At least not on three hours of sleep.

“Wear these,” he said and handed her a bag. She hadn’t noticed the bag a moment ago, her eyes too transfixed on how heavenly he looked in those jeans with his long, muscular legs not to mention those yummy shoulders in the thick, cable knit sweater. Goodness he looked hot!

But a sweater? It wasn’t that cold outside. The heat of the summer had dissipated and the fall crispness was moving into the city, but the temperatures definitely didn’t warrant a thick sweater.

“What’s this?” she asked, not wanting to accept any more clothes from him much less gifts. Gifts implied a relationship that they no longer had. They were employer and employee. Unfortunately.

“Jeans,” he told her. “And a sweater.”

She cringed inwardly. “I’m not a huge fan of jeans,” she told him.

He smiled slightly and it was the first sign of genuine amusement she’d seen on his handsome face in so long, it took her breath away. “Just humor me, okay?”

She bit her lip, wondering what he was up to. A part of her wanted to put on one of the business suits and ignore his request. She wasn’t into humoring this man anymore. A month ago, she would have done a lot to humor him but he wasn’t the same man anymore. Now, he was cold and heartless, unemotional and distant. She should have pushed Jennifer to find her a separate apartment as soon as she’d discovered what was going on, but there were always a thousand other details that had taken precedence.

He didn’t wait for a response but instead, stepped out of the room to let her dress. She looked at the expensive wardrobe, then pulled out the clothes from the bag. They were just a warm sweater and soft jeans which only confused her more. Looking at the suits, she rejected her small rebellion. She didn’t hate the suits as much as she hated what they represented. They were like a prison uniform and every day she’d put one on and march through Manhattan to her prison sentence.

Ironically, this prison was exactly what she’d wanted. It was what she’d told Jack she wanted. And Emerson had given it to her. He’d taught her so much, but now…?

She sighed, not sure what to do. And at this point, she was too confused to try and figure out what her next move should be.

She pulled out the jeans and slipped them on. There was also a thick, warm sweater in the bag, similar to his. She pulled that on as well, then dried her hair and pinned it all on top of her head. It seemed more appropriate to wear a messy bun with jeans versus blow drying it and styling it like she normally would to go into meetings.