Negotiating Tactics

Four

Noah

“Don’t move my shit,”I muttered in a singsong voice.

My pathetic attempt to mimic Alex’s grating tone and maybe get her off my mind.

As I stood at the threshold of my bedroom—the one she had stolen from me—I knew that would be impossible.

Were she here, my nonna would scold me for even being in front of the door after Alex had told me to stay away. Then she would remind me that she’d raised me to be a good, respectful man, especially to guests.

She would have been right, but I pushed the door open anyway.

My nonna’s advice had helped make me the man I was today, and I didn’t often ignore it.

Today was an exception.

Alexwas an exception.

That thought in my head, I entered the room. At first glance, it looked like the same room I always used when I was in Boston. But on second, I felt the difference, and told myself it had nothing to do with her.

I breathed out a harsh breath and walked to the wardrobe, wondering if she had taken that over too.

A look inside revealed three hangers still wrapped in drycleaner’s plastic hanging next to mine.

Women’s clothes. Alex’s, no doubt. All shades of gray, black, and navy.

Not at all vibrant like the woman herself, though her personality still shined, even with the boring clothes.

Of course, lawyers weren’t supposed to dress for excitement.

I grabbed my things and then went to the drawers to grab a few more and almost tripped over the medium-sized, cheap-looking duffel bag with clothes spilling out.

A scrap of purple satin drew my gaze like a moth to a flame.

Definitely Alex’s.

I clenched my hands as I imagined peeling that scrap of fabric off her perfect ass, down those delicious thighs, and then making my way back up to her center…

I knew her pussy would smell delicious, taste even better, and grip my cock like it was made for me. Not the shit I should be thinking about the most annoying woman I’d met in years, but here I was.

I forced out a hard breath and then kept moving deep into the room, though I knew I couldn’t outrun the hold that infuriating woman had on me.

The first time I’d seen her, I’d been both irritated and impressed by how she’d stood up for her friend Birdie.

Seeing her at Birdie and Dominic’s wedding had been a kick in the gut.

I’d never seen a sight more beautiful than Alex in that pale pink dress that had hugged her curves, with a smile so bright it seemed to light her from the inside.

Last night, after the shock of her umbrella attack, I’d been struck again, the woman I hadn’t been able to shake from my dreams standing there in underwear that revealed more than they concealed.

Tits that I knew would feel like heaven wrapped around my cock, and that sexy stomach that would feel amazing as I gripped her hips and fucked us both into oblivion.

My cock was solid in an instant, confirming how much I wanted that woman.

But she wasn’t here now, so I pulled myself away from her underwear, deciding not to snoop—or take them as a souvenir.

When I went to the bathroom, I saw that the toiletries I had kept there had been opened.

Something else Alex had welcomed herself to.

I chuckled, then looked at the bed, which was neatly made, and left the room.

Being who I was, I had more than half a mind to toss her shit out into the hallway.

She would flip if I did, and the thought was almost funny enough for me to go ahead with that plan, the idea of seeing her angry face probably more than worth it.

But I stopped myself.

I liked the room—and I liked the idea of getting under Alex’s skin—but she was clearly having a hard time. So I decided to cut her some slack.

But not too much.

I had taken the room across the hall last night, assuming it would be temporary.

With two other bedrooms on this floor alone, I could have easily relocated and given us both more space.

But there was no way that was happening.

I didn’t want space from Alex, and I had a point to prove. So, every time Alex entered or left my room, she’d see my face.

She’d hate that, but I sure as hell wouldn’t.

I walked into the bedroom opposite Alex’s—mine—and started to put away my clothes.

This room was nice enough, but I couldn’t shake the sense of displacement.

The room I was in shouldn’t matter.

I hadn’t had a home since I had left Nonna’s, and that was decades ago.

After that, I’d been all over. Two years in New Zealand, another in Australia, five years in South America, back to Australia and New Zealand, and then back again.

Some time on the West Coast, and then, finally, I had settled in the UK for a few years.

Over all those years and miles, I’d managed to build a global real estate firm with a portfolio that would impress the Wilders and people like them.

Not that I gave a shit.

I slammed one of the drawers harder than I intended, not a surprising reaction to thoughts of the Wilders.

Ironic, given where I was currently standing.

I looked over at my own duffel bag and stared at the front pocket and the letter that was inside it.

One that had remained unopened for more than two years now.

I should have burned the fucking thing and forgotten all about my sperm donor and his sons.

For years, I’d told myself I was going to do just that.

But somehow, I found myself here.

I’d always known I had brothers in Boston and had imagined they were entitled pricks like their father—my sperm donor—had been.

Having met them, spent time with them, I’d decided Prescott abandoning me had been the one good thing he’d ever done for me.

Sure, my brothers had never known hunger and hadn’t had to watch their mother agonize over whether to pay for groceries or electricity.

But they had also never known the love of someone like Nonna or my mother.

Had never had people who saw them at their worst and loved them anyway.

I’d never been sure how to say that to them, so I never had, but they—Dominic, Beau, and Tristian—were the reason I was here.

After so many years of moving, I was finally ready to stay in once place, at least for a little while. Wanted a place that was mine, not just somewhere I happened to be inhabiting.

Still, I hadn’t made any final decisions and wanted to avoid talking to my brothers until I had.

But now that Alex knew I was here, I had no doubt one or all three of them would pop up soon enough.

At the thought of Alex, my gaze drifted to the bed.

I wanted to pretend the woman didn’t have a hold on me, but that was a fucking lie.

At first, I’d told myself it was pure, simple lust.

A simple enough explanation, one I could have bought the first time I’d seen her.

Maybe even the second time at Birdie and Dominic’s wedding.

But after last night…

I let out a low laugh at the memory of Alex standing there gripping that umbrella. That had been fucking stupid of her, but she had guts, which I appreciated.

Just like I appreciated the rest of her.

Alex was undeniably beautiful, but no woman—ever—had affected me as deeply as she did.

That face—bright expressive eyes, full lips, a smile that dazzled like the purest diamonds.

And her body, which was made for sin.

I’d never thought that I had a type, but when I saw Alex, I’d been proven wrong.

I did have a type, and it was Alex.

I pushed off the bed, trying to ignore the stirring in my jeans.

There was no doubt that Alex did it for me, but to my surprise, it wasn’t just on a physical level.

She was beautiful on the outside, gorgeous, sexy.

She was also smart, funny, genuine, and, under her tough shell, kind.

Even having only seen her a few times, I knew that. I felt the goodness in her, the kind that couldn’t be faked.

Just like the sadness that I saw in her eyes, even though I instinctually knew she tried to hide it, was real too.

Alex needed someone to take care of her.

She probably didn’t even realize it, and there was no way her stubborn, prideful ass would admit it anyway.

I couldn’t do that for her, give her the security, the tenderness that her eyes practically pleaded for, but there was something we could do for each other.

I smiled.

Maybe Alex crashing here wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

She be gone soon enough, and until then, she’d be a perfect distraction while I figured out what the fuck I wanted to do with myself.

All I had to do was convince her.

I was excited by the challenge and knew that I was ready for it.

Noah

That beliefthat was called into question when Alex finally came back to the townhouse.

“No thank you, I don’t want any,” she said breezily as she walked into the kitchen.

I had all but pounced on her when she’d unlocked the door.

I remembered how much she seemed to enjoy the lamb chops and asparagus that had been served at the wedding, so I’d had the chef prepare the same dish.

The first step in Operation: Win Alex Over.

I’d expected at least a smile and a thank-you, but all I’d gotten was her airy no.

“You sure?” I asked, confounded but not dissuaded.

“Yeah. I have leftovers,” she said, lifting the compostable cardboard box in her hand before she put it on the counter.

I tsked. “That won’t do.”

She furrowed her brow, the frown emphasizing her prominent cheekbones, her eyes darkening as I watched the wheels turning in her head.

She closed the refrigerator and then faced me, the way she crossed her arms showing of the sexy curve of her waist. “That won’t do?”

“No, it won’t,” I said, keeping my gaze on her face, even though I wanted to again trace the beautiful shape of her body.

As I spoke, I moved to pluck the cardboard off the counter and dumped it in the trash.

“Hey!” She stood up straight, her eyes wide, her expression so disgruntled I couldn’t help but smile.

I didn’t pretend to be apologetic. “Alex, dinner’s ready.”

“Noah,” she said through clenched teeth, the sound of my name rolling off her tongue making my stomach clench.

Instead of responding, I put a hand on her shoulder, ignoring how warm her skin felt through her jacket, and led her to the table.

“I had the chef make lamb chops. You like those,” I said.

She sat in the chair, then looked up at me, frowning. “How you know that?”

“The wedding,” I said as I rounded the table and sat beside her.

“Yeah, but—” She trailed off then shook her head. “Never mind.”

She stood, but before I could protest, she glared at me and walked to the sink.

“Are you singing the alphabet song?” I asked, staring at her as she washed.

She didn’t answer under she finished and dried her hands. “Of course I was. Don’t you when you wash your hands?”

I laughed. “No.”

“You should start,” she said as she sat across from me.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” I responded.

She harumphed and then picked up her knife and fork and cut a small bite of lamb.

“Are these rare?” she said.

“Medium,” I said.

“I thought they were supposed to be served rare,” Alex said.

“I don’t know if they’re supposed to be, but I need my meat cooked,” I said.

Alex stopped midbite and tilted her head. “Have we found a point of commonality?” she asked.

“The first of many, I hope,” I said before taking another bite of my own lamb.

She started to smile but seemed to remember the better of it and focused on her food.

“You know, this is not going to win you your room back,” she said a few minutes later.

“We’ll see,” I responded, not telling her I didn’t give a fuck which room I was in as long as she was with me.

She huffed, the sound dismissive, which rankled. But I kept my cool, knowing Alex wouldn’t be easy, which would make my eventually victory that much sweeter.

“Why are you in Boston?” she asked.

“Did Birdie tell you to ask me that?” I responded.

She scoffed, then took a sip of the water I had sat next to her plate before she arrived. “I don’t know what you think me and Birdie talk about, but it’s not you.”

“So, you haven’t told her I’m here?” I asked.

She chuckled, the low, throaty sound wrapping around my gut and making my cock jump. “I haven’t thought about you since I left.”

It was my turn to scoff.

“I’m supposed to believe that?” I asked around a bite of asparagus.

“Believe what you want,” she said with a shrug.

“I do, and I don’t believe that,” I countered, then took another bite of my dinner.

“Not that it matters, but why do you think I would be thinking about you? And,” she took another sip of water before she went on, “if I were, why do you think you’re important enough to for me to lie about it?”

I put down my fork and leaned back in the chair. “Why does that two-hundred-word question sound like a trap?”

She snorted. “Birdie says my questions are too long, too. Professional hazard, I guess. But there’s no trap. It’s just a simple inquiry.”

I locked eyes with hers. “I don’t think anything is that simple with you, Alex.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Even though she was leaning forward, her face serious, her eyes twinkled with what I recognized as mock offense.

“Are you always this…tense?” I asked.

“I’m not tense, but I will confess it has been a hell of a day,” she said.

“What happened?” I asked, trying to decide if I should be concerned.

“My apartment got flooded. I have no idea how long it’s going to take them to fix it. And I—” She cut off, her eyes darkening.

“You what?”

“Never mind,” she said, taking a final bite of her lamb chop before pushing her plate away.

I did the same, then grabbed her hand and twisted her wrist gently, studying fingers that were long, feminine, but not slender. To my surprise, she didn’t pull away.

“Nice nail polish,” I said, nodding approvingly at the dull purple-gray color.

Alex gawked at me. “Did you just complement my nail polish?”

“I did. It looks good on you,” I said.

Everything would, though I didn’t share that tidbit.

“And you don’t need to worry about having a place. I’m not going anywhere, but you welcome to stay here as long as you’d like or need to,” I said, reluctantly releasing her hand.

Her expression had been neutral, but at my words, her face hardened slightly. She softened it, but I could see tension around her eyes that hadn’t been there before. “You and Birdie have already told me that, but I don’t believe in taking charity,” she said.

Something I understood well and usually agreed with, but not in this situation. “From what I understand, you and Birdie are practically family. That’s not charity.”

“Sure,” she responded, her tone placating and inauthentic. She clearly thought I was full of shit but had apparently decided against arguing the ins and outs of charity with me.

“So, why didn’t you go to your boyfriend’s house,” I asked, studying her face as I waited for an answer. I suspected I knew the answer but wanted confirmation.

She arched a brow. “Is that your way of asking me if I’m involved with someone?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

She huffed out a laugh. “That wasn’t very subtle.”

I met her eyes, let my gaze drop to her lips, then looked back to her eyes. “It was more subtle than I usually am, but I can drop all pretense if you’d like,” I said.

She gave a slight quirk of her lips, which I couldn’t count as a smile. Then she nodded. “Yeah, I would.”

I locked my gaze on hers. “Alex, are you seeing someone?”

“What does it matter to you?” she countered, seeming unable to resist the impulse to challenge me.

I didn’t take the bait. “Answer the question.”

Then I went silent, determined not to say anything until she did as I asked.

It didn’t take long.

“No,” she said, her voice filled with a sound I could only call ambivalence.

I left a slow smile cross my face and breathed of a sigh of relief. “Great.”

She tilted her head in question. “Great for me?” she asked.

“No. Great for me,” I said.

She smiled, this time unleashing the full wattage and almost blowing me away with her radiance. “And why would my relationship—or lack thereof—be great for you?”

“Well, I’m ruthless, but I’d hate to move in on another man’s territory. Though I would,” I said.

“I’m not territory,” she responded.

“Perhaps, but if you had someone, things might get too messy. That’s not my thing,” I said.

She shifted in the chair, her expression serious, her mind engaged, though I could see skepticism and hints of confusion in her expression. “And what is your thing, Noah?”

“Beautiful women,” I said.

“What does that have to do with me?” she asked, her face twisted in a frown.

I chuckled. “Well, you’re a beautiful woman, and I think you could use my attention.”

“I’ll ignore the first part of that sentence,” she said.

“And the second?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “‘Use my attention.’ That sounds an awful lot like charity, and I think I’ve made my feelings clear on that.”

“No, it’s not charity. In fact, it would be a great privilege for me,” I responded.

She shifted, though I couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or interest.

“What would be a great privilege?” she asked.

If I wasn’t mistaken—and I wasn’t—I heard a hitch in her breath, one that had me ready to sweep the plates off the table and fuck her right there.

“We’ve dropped the subtlety, haven’t we, Alex?” I asked, reminding myself to be patient.

“I guess so,” she responded, though she looked surprised that the words came out of her mouth.

“In that case, it would be my great privilege to fuck you more thoroughly and completely than you’ve ever been fucked in your life.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t respond, so I took the opportunity to continue.

“I can tell you need it, and you need an escape,” I said. “I can give you that. I can take your mind off everything except my fingers, my tongue, and my cock making you come so many times you lose count.”

By the time I finished, my voice was a low rasp, and my cock was painfully hard.

Alex laughed, the sound nervous but her eyes intrigued. And I didn’t miss the frantic thud of her heartbeat at the base of her neck.

“You think highly of yourself,” she said on a shaky breath.

I nodded slowly, not breaking her gaze. “I do, but not without reason.”

She laughed again, and I could see the wheels in that big brain of hers pick up speed. She was looking for an excuse to turn me down. I could see that clearly, just like I could see that she didn’t want to.

“What’s your number?” I asked, genuinely curious and even more wanting to keep Alex here with me now and not in her head thinking of ways to keep her distance.

Her eyes widened in confusion. “What number?”

“Alex, you’re smart girl. You can keep up. How many times has someone made you come in one night?”

She looked away, her body stiff, defensive.

“Alex,” I said, my voice low, firm.

When she met my eyes again, I spoke.

“Answer the question. How many?”

She looked down again, but before I could give her another warning, she met my eyes.

“Zero.” She tossed out the word like it was a victory, and knowing Alex, she probably thought she’d thrown me off.

Alex had a lot to learn about me, and those lessons would start now.

I let a slow, lazy smile spread across my face. “Lucky for both of us, that’s about to change.”

Then I stuck out my hand, my question clear, and waited for her to decide.