Chapter Seventeen
Cross frowned as he watched the exchange between Verity and his bar manager. There was something altogether too familiar about their posture, the way they leaned into each other, the mirroring of their body language, something that spoke of being closer than mere colleagues.
An unfamiliar sensation tightened his chest and he struggled for a moment to identify it.
Annoyance? Frustration?...Jealousy?
That last thought almost made him laugh out loud. Jealousy would be a singularly inappropriate emotion. Verity was a tool he needed, nothing more and once her use was past she would be removed from his club. No, he told himself, he was simply concerned that any nascent friendship developing between them might disrupt his plans. He needed to be able to control her and for that he required her to be dependent on him for any sense of security. The timing here was too delicate to allow his plans to be derailed by Verity finding a source of support elsewhere.
The pragmatic side of his mind argued that discreet, hard working staff were difficult to recruit and even more difficult to retain. He couldn’t afford to burn talent just because they were inconvenient to him in that moment.
But he could separate them.
Decision made, his eyes followed Verity as she returned to Mathieu and his guest, bearing the glass of wine. The frown line deepened as he realised who that guest was.
Valentina had apparently not returned to her hotel room to freshen up as stated. He ground his teeth. Just for once it would be nice if people did what he damn well told them.
Through narrowed eyes he watched as the woman took the proffered wine glass without even acknowledging the younger woman’s presence, her other hand resting on Mathieu’s thigh in a proprietorial gesture. Sensing that Verity was about to retreat, probably to the bar, Cross moved up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder to prevent her escape. The corresponding finch she gave prompted a smile. While he needed her to turn to him for security from others, it wouldn’t do for her to start feeling too comfortable. A little wariness was a good thing.
Erasing the scowl of annoyance, he settled his features into a professional smile. “Valentina, I thought we were planning to meet later at the restaurant?”
Valentina glanced over her shoulder at him. “I was just catching up with Mathieu.” She sniffed as she ran her eyes down his face. “Not everything is about you, Thomas.”
“I’m wounded,” he replied.
She paused, seeming to register Verity’s presence for the first time, her gaze lingering for a moment on his hand resting on the her shoulder and Cross watched the muscle in her temple twitch as suspicion fought botox.
He needed to put some distance between Verity and Valentina as well. The head of Eighth Circle Italia was not best pleased with his scheme, and if she knew the role he intended Verity to play she would have no qualms about destabilising his hold on her.
For a moment, his carefully laid plans felt like a house of cards. Each element dependent on the others remaining in place. One wrong move and the whole structure would collapse.
“Why Thomas,” she said, getting to her feet, “you have a new pet!”
He could feel Verity squirm beneath his fingers, obviously keen to get out of the way but he held her in place, unsure which direction she might bolt.
“Valentina, this is Verity. And she’s a member of my staff, not my pet.”
“Is that so?” Valentina murmured. “In which case you won’t mind if I get to know her better.”
Despite his best efforts, his fingers tightened as Valentina moved closer and ran her fingers down the girl’s cheek. He was gratified to feel Verity lean back against him in an effort to avoid the unwelcome touch.
She had good instincts, he thought with approval. Valentina was definitely someone she should be wary of.
Stepping to one side, he tilted Verity’s face towards him and made a show of examining her features, as if seeing them for the first time. Eyebrows raised in surprise he turned back to Valentina. “I would have thought she was a little old for your taste.” Noting the flash of outrage widening Verity’s eyes. Cross chuckled but there was little mirth in the sound. “No insult intended. Valentina prefers her playmates to be very young indeed. The more inexperienced the better.”
Valentina jerked her chin up. “Perhaps my tastes have matured, Thomas.”
“I guess there would be a first time for everything.”
Patting his cheek Valentina pouted slightly. “Oh, are you jealous Thomas? Still remembering the time we spent together all those years ago, when you were so much younger and prettier than you are today?”
It took all his self control not to jerk away from the touch and to maintain the cold smile. But he kept his gaze level as he replied, “Not if I can help it.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mathieu shake his head in amusement, clearly entertained by the display.
Anxious to end the conversation before it became confrontation, Cross shifted his hand to Verity’s elbow and turned her towards the office. “I need a word with my staff, so I’ll leave you two to catch up. And later we’ll have dinner. Will you be joining us, Mathieu?”
The frenchman got to his feet, whispered a few quiet words to Cross and then clapped him on the shoulder.
“My apologies,” he said, “but I must decline. There are matters of my own business to which I must attend.”
Assurances given that they would speak soon, Cross nodded farewell and resumed their departure, Verity putting up no resistance as he steered her across the floor. But once they were safely secured in his office she jerked her arm out of his grasp and took an immediate step away, clearly wanting to keep some distance between them.
That could be a problem.
He watched her as she turned her head, her attention fixed on the bed and she stiffened, her arms wrapping tightly around her torso.
He leaned back against the wall, watching her process. The memories from the night before prompting a twitch followed by a shudder. Then her hands fell to her sides and she raised her chin as she turned back to him.
“So, dinner. Am I invited? Or were you intending to serve me up for your guest as an appetiser?”
Cross felt an eyebrow raise in surprise. She was rebuilding her internal defences more quickly than he’d anticipated. He was impressed, but this raised an interesting dilemma for him. He needed her to be strong for what was ahead, but he couldn’t afford ending up on the wrong side of the barrier she was erecting.
“Neither. The doctor rang, she’s going to drop by and give you a once over. After that, you can finish up and go home.” He shifted away from the wall and lowered himself into the armchair. “But first…” He patted his thigh, his eyes never leaving her face. He could see the muscle tense in her cheek as she clenched her jaw, her eyes fixed on some indeterminate point in the distance. Then she gave a tight nod and walked towards him, her usual grace deserting her.
She hesitated when she reached the side of his chair, but Cross didn’t move, silently waiting. Eventually she swallowed hard and leaned forward, jerking stiff limbs to straddle his lap. Catching her before she had the chance to settle into position, he lifted her, rearranging her legs until she was sitting sideways in his lap, her head resting against his shoulder.
She felt like she was carved out of stone. Rigid and cold, her body heavy against his. Gently stroking the outside of one thigh, his fingers venturing no further than the hem of her skirt, he waited, murmuring gentle words and letting the warmth of his body seep into hers.
The seconds ticked by, turning into minutes and he eventually felt the first thaw as the tension slowly drained from her frame. As her head became heavier against his collarbone his fingers stilled and he took a breath, relieved by her response and not wanting to push the unspoken truce.
In truth, this was all he had intended. One brief moment of calm while she allowed her hastily constructed walls to soften a little and let him in. But he was surprised how comfortable it felt to simply hold her. The weight of her head against his shoulder, the light floral scent of her shampoo lifting from hair and for the first time in as long as he could remember he felt his own body relax in response, his arms loosely curled around her, holding her in place.
His phone buzzed, the sound snapping his eyes open. Jesus, he’d almost fallen asleep! Verity also jerked into motion, scrambling from his lap, her eyes wide and disoriented, her hands flying to her clothing, seeming almost surprised to find it still in place. With a murmur of apology he retrieved his phone from his pocket and nodded as he checked the message.
“Dr Burchell is ready to see you now. She’s setting up in the small meeting room.”