Chapter Twelve
S erge threaded a tie into a knot at the base of his throat. Aubrey paced the living room. While she'd enjoyed spending the weekend with him at his house, she absolutely could not go with him to a meeting at the Harrington Building.
"I can't go." Aubrey planted her hands on her hips. "I'm exhausted from working at the shelter all day."
Serge buttoned the cuffs on his shirt. "We won't be there long."
The likelihood of Curt Harrington being there was slim. It'd been months since she won the bid on the building for the shelter. He probably forgot all about her and had moved on to his next property purchase.
But she feared coming face to face with him. She also wanted to keep Serge far away from Harrington. One wrong comment, and Serge would go ballistic.
"I really don't want to go. I know nothing about your business and don't want to distract you." She approached him. "It's a meeting, not a dinner. I promise to go out with you the next time you have an informal party."
"I'm not going to take no for an answer." He stepped over to her and kissed her on the lips. "I need to be there, and I want you by my side."
"Please, I'll make up for not going next weekend."
Somehow, she'd come up with some way to pay him back. She'd already convinced him, although reluctantly, to let her stay at her house during the week and return to him the following weekend. In fact, to prove he'd compromise, he'd already taken her clothes back to the house.
"If you told me the truth about why you're so against going, I'd consider it." He peered at her. "But I don't believe you're so exhausted that you can't stand by my side for an hour. End of discussion."
"But—"
"No more." He scooped up her hand. "It'll take an hour, and then I'll drive you back to your house for the night."
She sighed. "Why is it so important to you that I go?"
Without missing a beat, he said, "Because you calm me."
She reached out and squeezed his hand. His simple admission won her over. Now, she only needed to climb off the edge of the imaginary building she clung to at the thought of running into Curt Harrington again.
"You'll have to bring me back here because my car is in your driveway," she muttered.
"Not anymore. I had Jack deliver it to your house while you were putting on that pretty dress." He walked away from her.
She followed. "He steals cars, Serge."
He looked over his shoulder. "Not mine, and not yours."
She chewed the inside of her lip. How he managed to keep both his lives separate amazed her.
She walked with him to the garage. Most of the time, she forgot he was a rich investor. She even forgot that he'd survived living on the street.
Granted, for the last two days, he'd kept her busy when she wasn't working. She'd had so much sex that she could barely walk across the floor without the gentle reminder of having him inside of her.
To her surprise, knowing him, the sex was not abusive or even kinky. No spanking, no scarves, no whips, no handcuffs, and although he was bossy, she sort of liked him taking control.
She had enough to do at the shelter. It was nice to hand over the decisions to someone else when she was away from work.
This weekend filled the emptiness inside of her. Literally— her well was full.
Tonight wasn't part of their agreement, though. Accompanying him pushed her out of her comfort zone. She ran a homeless shelter and had nothing in common with his business associates. His determination to convince her to join him made her feel like arm candy.
Sulking, she sat in the BMW and stared out the window. Forcing her to go with him to the meeting felt like punishment. As if she'd done something wrong.
"Are you mad at me?" she asked.
"No." He flipped on the radio. "Disappointed."
She turned to him. Her stomach ached. "Because I don't want to go?"
"You don't trust me." He shifted gears and turned onto Hamilton Street. "I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. You need more time."
"I do trust you," she murmured.
"Not yet, you don't." He glanced at her. "In my line of work, I often have meetings. I don't particularly enjoy them, but going is necessary. Tonight, the meeting is private, and I want you there. It's a simple request that you should have no problem fulfilling."
She blew out her breath. He knew nothing about her, but what she wanted him to see. Guilt made her stomach churn. She wrapped her arms around her middle and gazed out the window.
"Fine," she whispered. "Don't tell me I didn't warn you if anything weird happens tonight."
He placed his hand on her thigh. "As long as everyone understands you belong to me, we won't have any problems."
Her mouth opened, and she stared at him. "What are you afraid of? That some other man will hit on me?"
"They won't because you're mine."
She scoffed. "You're jealous."
"I'm not jealous." His mouth tightened.
She laughed. "Oh, my God. You totally are."
"Don't be mouthy." He shook his head and pulled into the underground parking garage below the Harrington building. "I take care of what's mine. You're mine. And, since we're on the subject, I don't want you hugging or kissing any of the men when I introduce you."
"Yes, sir." She fought a grin. "I'll try to control myself."
He parked in the first open spot, slammed the car into park, and turned. He hooked her neck and hauled her toward him until the seat belt dug into her chest before her amusement ended. His hold on the back of her hair stopped her teasing.
"I'd kill anyone who touched you," he said, between clenched teeth. "Think before you do something stupid and get someone killed."
"I-I was joking," she said, hating the way her voice shook.
"I'm not." He tugged her closer. "I told you there were parts of me you'd hate. This is one. I don't share with anyone."
She blinked, unable to look away because he was in her face. So close, he could kiss her, but he wasn't moving toward her, and his eyes were cold.
"I was only teasing you," she said.
He remained silent and continued holding her. "Don't push me when it comes to something I own. You won't like the results."
She pulled away, and he let her go. Her heart raced, and she rubbed the back of her neck. He hadn't hurt her, but the vehemence of his actions scared her.
He shut off the engine. "Are you ready to go in?"
"No." Tears burned her eyes.
He let his hands fall in his lap. She swallowed repeatedly to keep her emotions from escaping. Dealing with Serge's wishes and the possibilities of running into Harrington upset her stomach.
She leaned forward. "I think I'm going to be sick."
Serge placed his hand on her back. She flinched. When he remained touching her, she closed her eyes. If it weren't for what they'd shared the last two days, she'd walk away. She wanted the tender man who held her at night. The one who saw to her pleasure before his own. The one who carried her from room to room and spoke of the future together. The one who called her Bree.
Such a stupid shortened name, but she loved it when he called her that. She inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. She could do this. For him.
After tonight, she'd be home and have time to understand why she was so indecisive about Serge. She'd finally figure out what caused her to fear losing him one moment and wanting to run from him the next.
"I'm ready," she whispered.
He undid her seatbelt and kissed her forehead. "Good girl."
The pressure in her chest eased, and she waited for him to open her door and lead her into the building. In the elevator, she held his hand. On the fifth floor, she glanced at him, and when he leaned over and kissed her forehead, she relaxed.
Inside the conference room, she nodded politely and sat beside Serge. While he talked, she took her chance and looked around at the other men who lined the table. When she completed the inspection, her whole body relaxed.
Curt Harrington was not in attendance.
Maybe tonight's meeting would be the last one she had to attend in this building, and her worry over facing the man who'd made her life hell for months as they dealt with a bidding war would go away. She gazed up at Serge as he stood before the other men.
He caught her looking and winked. The weight of the evening and the tense situation in the car faded into the background. How he conducted himself around others impressed her, and if she'd been in the right frame of mind, she'd have remembered everything he'd said. It was simple to forgive him for the few moments he pressed her into an area where she wasn't comfortable.
But she wasn't a fool.
She clasped her hands in her lap. The problems they faced wouldn't disappear on their own—they would only worsen once her infatuation with him faded.
She didn't want to change him. It was his confidence and powerful personality that appealed to her, setting him apart from the boys she'd dated in the past. When it came to sex, he expressed his wants and needs more openly than she thought possible for a man reluctant to get emotional, and she loved that. However, there was always something in the background that kept her on edge, as if something frightening might happen.
Never one to have deep feelings for others, she found herself enthralled by him, pushing common sense to the back of her mind because he was exciting and gave her so much attention.
The reasons he appealed to her were also one of her biggest fears. How long could she balance her life? The shelter pulled her energy away from everything else in her life. Serge demanded even more from her. She was going to break. Serge had told her many times that he wouldn't lose, and she had promised to give everything to the shelter.
"Thank you for coming." Serge looked at his watch. "I'll have Suzanne fax the paperwork to you all on Monday."
Aubrey stayed seated while Serge shook hands with everyone. He never strayed far from her chair, and eventually, he leaned over, kissed her, and assisted her to her feet. She wrapped her arm around his back and leaned into him.
"Aubrey, this is Gerald Leven of Leven Associates. Every once in a while, he'll join me in a pickup game of basketball." Serge put his arm around her.
She rounded her shoulder, put her hand on Serge's stomach, and smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Leven."
A good-looking man with short blond hair and a fast smile, Gerald said, "Serge has spoken highly of you."
She tilted her head back and looked at Serge, raising her brows. Their relationship was new. When had he found time to talk about her?
Serge rocked back on his heels, squeezing her to his side. "I better get her home. See you tomorrow, Gerald."
"Later, Adams," Gerald said.
As they walked out of the room, down the hallway, and stepped into the elevator, Aubrey smiled. She still held on to Serge's middle, resting her head against the side of his chest. This was the first time they'd gone out in public as a couple, and she rather enjoyed everyone knowing she belonged to him.
"Happy?" He pushed the button for the first floor.
She nodded against him. "I am. I'm proud of you."
"Why?" he said.
"Just seeing you leading the meeting and the respect in the other men's faces. They like you. That's a huge compliment when you're the one in charge." She rubbed his stomach and tilted her head back. "And, I know how much work and time it takes to earn their confidence."
The elevator dinged. She stepped forward with him when he pulled her to the back corner. She looked up, and her lungs collapsed.
Polished in a black suit, white shirt, and powerhouse red tie, Harrington entered the elevator and stood three feet away from her.
"Curt," Serge said.
"Evening, Serge," Curt Harrington, bigger than life, put his hand out as the doors opened. "Late meeting?"
She stepped out of the elevator and turned her head away from him. Her heart raced, and her body seized in an awkward, jerky motion, as if seconds had taken a minute.
"Yes. The monthly meeting with the corporation." Serge's hand pressed against her side as the elevator dinged, and the doors swished closed. "I'd like to introduce you to—"
"Aubrey Haydon." Curt Harrington gaze narrowed, and he stepped closer. "How interesting it is to find you in one of my buildings."
She never looked at either man. At the mention of her name coming from Harrington's mouth, Serge had stiffened beside her.
"I'm sorry. You'll have to excuse me." She broke away and hurried across the lobby.
She heard Serge make his excuses behind her, but nothing would stop her from leaving the building. All she wanted to do was escape the man who'd made her life hell for six months.