Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
MAGNOLIA
I stared at him. Then I glanced at his coffee cup. How much brandy had I put in it?
Obviously, the man was drunk.
I tried to tug my hand away, but he held tight.
“I’ll get you fresh coffee. The nonalcoholic kind. You’ve obviously had enough.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“You must be. You just proposed marriage. In the office. You called me Myers while doing it.”
He frowned, releasing my hand and rubbing his chin. “Not the most romantic proposal, I agree. But I meant it.” He paused. “Maggie darling, marry me.”
I laughed. “Nice try.”
He shook his head. “I’m serious.”
“You don’t want to get married. You’ve said so many times.”
“I said I don’t want to marry the women my mother likes. She doesn’t like you.”
“So that makes me marriage material?”
“Think about it. We get married—my mother will shut up and stay away. You move in with me, your housing problem is solved. You wouldn’t even have to work for me or anyone if you didn’t want to. You could paint. Craft. Do all the things you enjoy.”
“As hobbies. I enjoy them as hobbies. I like working.”
“Even better. You can run me here and at home.”
I stared at him, aghast. He was serious. He wanted to get married to solve our problems. Nothing about love, a life together, or anything personal.
“It sounds like a business deal.”
“Well, I don’t usually have sex with business deals, but I’m willing to make an exception in your case.” He smirked, looking proud of himself. “We have a cat together, we enjoy each other’s company. Sex with you is incredible. I love your sandwiches.”
I shut my eyes and counted to ten. Then I opened them, leaned close, and smiled. “Bane?”
“Magnolia?” he murmured, lifting his hand and running a finger down my cheek.
“Suggest this again, and the next time your mother drops in, I’ll let her into your office and lock the door behind her.”
Then I turned and walked out of the office, shutting the door firmly behind me.
Loudly.
What a jerk.
I sat down, stared at my desk, then decided I needed to stay busy and I needed it to be physical. Everything in this office was clean, tidy, and orderly. Bane’s office was organized, although I still wanted to clean his cupboard—I wasn’t going in there with him.
I was angry. Hurt.
When he’d first uttered the words “marry me,” my heart raced. I was filled with elation. Wonder. The belief that he felt the same way about me as I did about him. This wasn’t some office affair. It was something real.
And then he opened his mouth again and ruined it all. He didn’t love me. I was a convenience. We could get married and help each other.
He had told me he didn’t think he was capable of having a relationship. Of experiencing or expressing real feelings. I should have known better. But given the fact that I realized I was falling for him, I thought he’d felt the same about me. I was an idiot.
Simply thinking about it made me angry again. I rose from my desk, went to the kitchen, and made Bane a coffee. I could still be professional, and he liked a coffee this time of the day. Then I gathered up some garbage bags and tucked them under my arm. I knocked on his door, walking in before he answered. I knew he was alone. I set down the coffee, and he eyed the bags under my arm.
“Are you cleaning out your desk, or are those for my body once you dismember me?”
“I am tidying the supply room in the hall. It’s a disaster.” I walked to the door, glancing over my shoulder. “Just like you.”
In the supply room, I looked around, mentally organizing the room. It blew my mind that with the number of extra assistants they had, no one ever came in here and fixed it. Granted, the room was small—a closet, really, but it could still be tidy. I propped open the door that was known to stick, then opened a bag and got busy.
About an hour later, Bane stuck his head in. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.”
He grimaced, entering the room and looking around. “Looks much better.”
I snorted. “When was the last time you were in here?”
“A couple of months ago, looking for some printer supplies.” He rubbed his neck. “I didn’t find any.”
“They’re on the third shelf now,” I informed him, stacking some packages of copy paper. It amazed me, for a paperless environment, how much paper was used and wasted. Bending, I grabbed another cartridge for the printer, stretching up on my toes to try to put it on the top shelf.
Bane was suddenly behind me, taking the box from my hand and easily reaching the top without any problem. “You need a small step stool.”
“No room, really.”
He bracketed his arms on the shelves, crowding and caging me in. “No, it’s a pretty tight fit.”
I felt him aligned with me, our bodies meshing with perfection. His hard melding to my soft. He lowered his head, his lips ghosting my neck. He moved his hands, grasping mine, the feel of his skin hot. I inhaled, smelling him. Warm. Rich.
Bane.
“Stop,” I whispered.
“You’re angry with me. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t like being a convenience.”
“You’re not, Magnolia. You’re so much more.” He pressed his lips to my neck. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
I knew Bane didn’t apologize. He never seemed to care for others’ opinions. But he did care about mine. He cared about me in his own way. Which, most of the time, was wonderful.
“I’m not a tool to keep your mother away.”
“I know.”
“I’m not a toy. I have feelings.”
He slid his arm around my waist. “I know,” he murmured in my ear, teasing the lobe with his tongue. I shut my eyes, trying not to whimper. He pulled me closer, and I felt every inch of him. Every. Single. Hard. Inch.
“I love your feelings,” he murmured. “They remind me to be human. You make me feel too, Maggie darling. Sometimes it scares me how much I feel for you.”
With a little cry, I turned, flinging my arms around his neck. He took my mouth, kissing me with a desperation that had me curling my toes. He kissed me as if he needed me more than life. I kissed him back, shocked at how much he could make me want him so quickly.
“I need you,” I whispered as he lifted me.
“Hold on, baby. I got you.”
Like a pro, he pushed up my skirt, the lace parting for him as if it was welcoming him in.
“We can’t— The door?—”
In a graceful move, he stepped to the side, pulling the door shut. I heard the click as he locked the handle, and the automatic light went off, leaving only the dim EXIT light over the door to save us from total darkness. I reached between us, fumbling with his belt, and he groaned as I slid my hand inside his pants, caressing him.
“Hold on to the shelves,” he demanded. “Tight.”
I did as he instructed, and a moment later, I heard his pants hit the floor. Once again, he wrapped his hands around my thighs, and then my underwear was tugged away. When he slammed into me, I gasped, throwing my head back, hitting the shelf.
“Easy, darling,” he murmured. “I need you conscious.”
“Fuck me, Alex. Now.”
And he did.
I grasped the shelves as he began to move. Hard, tight rolls of his hips kept him lodged inside me as our bodies swayed together. He pushed me higher, opening me wider, and hitting me in the perfect spot, making me see stars behind my eyelids. There was no finesse about our coupling. No sweet words murmured. All I heard were the sounds of us. Our skin touching and gliding. Our bodies meshing, our breathing hard, bursts of air escaping. His low groans. My hushed whimpers. He surrounded me. Claimed me. Made me feel alive like no one else had ever done. Ever would do.
My orgasm hit like a shooting star, exploding me into thousands of tiny shards of light. He kept going, finally stilling as he succumbed, my name a long whisper in my ear. Then he sagged against me, burying his head in my neck, his chest heaving fast. He slid his hand up my torso, cupping my face and kissing me. Softly now. Sweetly.
He stepped back, easing me onto my feet. We fumbled with our clothing, and he reached for me, wrapping me in his arms. “Still mad?”
“No.”
He kissed me again. “We’ll talk tonight, Magnolia.”
“Okay.”
“Done arranging the closet for today? Ready to come back to the office? I have things to keep you busy.”
“I’m sure you do.”
He chuckled and bent, kissing me. “Work-related.”
“Okay, then.”
He attempted to open the door, frowning. “It’s stuck.”
“You have to turn it—hard. It sticks.”
He tried and failed. Rammed the door with his shoulder, but it didn’t budge. He reached for the light, flicking it on. Nothing happened.
“Dammit,” he muttered. He crouched in front of the door, grasping the doorknob, turning it. It barely moved.
“I need some light.”
“Wait. There was a flashlight up here.” I felt around the shelf. “Got it!”
I bent over him, focusing the light. He studied the handle. “It’s jammed. There’s a little notch. I think if I can fit something in it, I can jimmy it.”
I used the flashlight and found a couple of screwdrivers. I handed them to him. “Will these work?”
“Maybe. Shine the light for me.”
I crouched behind him, holding the light. “I need it that way,” he pointed. “Get in front of me.”
I did as he instructed and once again found myself crowded in a small space by Bane. His scent, the scent of us, washed over me, and I turned my head, meeting his gaze in the dim light.
“Stop,” he hissed. “I’m trying to get us out.”
“We could call someone.”
“Do you have your cell? Mine is sitting on my desk.”
“So is mine.”
“I figured. Aim the light, Magnolia.”
I did, ducking my head and steadying myself on the door. He muttered constantly as he tried to open the lock. I was getting warm, my legs going numb.
“I need to move.”
He grabbed the doorknob, rattling it, almost snarling in frustration. “Fucking thing. I’m going to break it down.”
Except the door opened suddenly, the light from the hall spilling in. I gasped as I pitched forward, Bane on top of me. I looked up into the startled gaze of Jessica from HR. She stared at me, then Bane, who was pushing himself up. My eyes widened at his appearance. His hair was everywhere, his collar undone and his tie loose. He had lipstick on his face. My lipstick. He looked mauled and, frankly, freshly fucked. I knew I must look equally as bad. We had been caught red-handed, so to speak.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Again? Why do I always have to find you?”
I met Jessica’s eyes and blurted the only thing that came to mind.
“We’re getting married.”
I waited for Bane to return, sitting in his office. Unable to stay still, I opened his cupboard and began reorganizing. My movements were swift, controlled. Sorting, piling up unneeded or outdated supplies. It didn’t take long, but the difference was incredible. I stood, brushing off my skirt, frowning at the safety pin holding the lace on the sleeve together. I would have to try to repair the damage—and change the buttons unless I could find the one I lost under Bane’s desk.
And I had no plans on looking right now. We were in enough turmoil as it was.
I turned to leave as he strode in, looking surprised to see me. “Magnolia, I thought you’d gone home.”
“I was waiting to see if I still had a job.”
He leaned on his desk and took my hands with a frown. “Of course you do.”
“What did you tell them?”
“That we got locked in and we were trying to get out. I told them how you were cleaning the shelves because you couldn’t bear the disorganization any longer.”
“They bought that?”
“Jessica saw how clean it was. I may have expounded a little on how hot the closet was, which is why my tie was loose and your lipstick was on my face, because of when we fell out of the room.”
“Really?”
“I can be very convincing.” He folded his arms over his chest. “And of course, I confirmed we were getting married.”
I glared at him, and the bastard just smiled at me. “You’re the one who blurted it out.”
“I was in shock. You sexed me up in the supply room, and then that happened. I wasn’t thinking.”
He stood and pressed a kiss to my head. “Well, I was. We’ll talk about it at home. Get your things, and I’ll call Darryl.”
I stared after him as he sauntered away, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was acting very un-Bane-like.
I wasn’t sure I approved.
Bane, I could handle. Alex was incredibly hard to resist.
BANE
Magnolia was quiet in the car, staring out the window. But her fingers were restless, tugging on the lace of her sleeves, picking at the buttons on her coat. I could always tell when she was nervous or upset. Her cleaning episodes were certainly a dead giveaway. The supply closet, my shelves, and the cupboard in the office had never been so organized. It was done with almost military precision. Anything I asked for, Magnolia knew where it was.
I hadn’t planned on going into the supply closet in the hall to fuck her. But I had missed seeing her at her desk, the office feeling strangely empty without her in it. Walking into the small room, I was, as usual, amazed at her capacity for turning a disaster into an organized space. I wanted to apologize to her, coax her back into the office. I only meant to kiss her, but as usual, as soon as I was close to her, I wanted closer. One thing led to another, and before I knew it once again, my body had taken over my mind and we were suddenly a cliché. The boss fucking his assistant in the supply closet.
Except it wasn’t only fucking, and she wasn’t only my assistant.
My partners had been surprised when I’d shown up on their floor, asking for an immediate meeting. Their shock at my informing them I planned to marry Magnolia was immense. They had a few questions, and Lawson had asked how long the relationship had been going on.
I shrugged. “A while. It’s private.” I paused. “Or it was until Jessica saw us together earlier in a slightly less-than-welcome moment.” I explained about the closet, omitting the graphic details and skimming over the truth. I informed them I had been kissing her rather aggressively before we realized the door was locked, and we were attempting to get out when Jessica heard us. They withheld their disbelief since none of us wanted to delve too deeply into my story.
Jessica and Laura appeared, and we discussed office protocol. I assured them it wouldn’t happen again, and I was extremely grateful for their discretion.
I was also thankful that no one else had an office on my floor or that there hadn’t been a meeting going on in the boardroom that took up the other half of the floor—but I kept that to myself.
I glanced at Magnolia, wondering how she would take it when I told her HR had been informed of our new status.
And how she was going to feel when I told her I wasn’t backing down. I wanted to marry her. I had a feeling I was in for a long night of arguments.
But I planned on winning.
Hedgy was all over us when we entered the condo. He hated being alone and was effusive with his greeting. Purring, doing figure eights around our legs, climbing my pants to burrow in my neck as quickly as possible.
“Maybe we should get a cat sitter. Or I could bring him to the office.”
Magnolia looked over her shoulder. “That would not fly with HR, and I think we’re on thin ice there already.”
I laughed. “I could put it to a vote. I’d win.”
“So cocky,” she muttered, taking off her jacket and slinging it over the back of a stool. I sat at the island, watching her move around the kitchen as if she owned it. Which, really, she already did.
“No. Fact. I own fifty-one percent of the company, so I’d always win if pushed.”
She gaped at me. “You own the majority share? How?”
I pulled Hedgy’s treats close, giving him one and listening to him crunch and purr in my ear simultaneously. I scratched the top of his head thoughtfully. “When we were planning the company, we needed capital. I had it, so I became the majority shareholder. I rarely flex that muscle, but I would if I had to. Lawson and Anderson are great partners. We work.”
“Where did you get the money?”
“I told you before. I come from old money. My grandfather was a smart man. The money he left my father couldn’t be touched by my mother. It was left in a trust for me that was looked after by someone he could rely on. Tom and I got along, and he stayed in touch, always checking on me. When I was only fourteen, I had done a project at school about investing. I found it fascinating and told him I wanted to help him invest it. He gave me some money to try. I doubled it. He gave me more. I doubled that. I kept going through the years, and when I turned twenty-one, my fund was millions. It’s gone up more with my holdings and investments.”
“Why do you work?”
“I like working. I also like being able to back projects that I believe in.” He grinned. “Some clients who hire me have no idea I have also invested in their venture at all. My mother has no idea of my true wealth. I tried to tell her once, but she didn’t believe me. She never believed in me at all.”
Magnolia’s eyes were sad as she slid her hand over mine. “I’m sorry.”
I met her gaze. “You’ve believed in me since the day you met me. Why?”
“I could see your passion when you talked about your designs. I looked up your work.”
“My mother thinks I play in the dirt and need help to find a wife who can elevate me above that.”
Magnolia snorted. “Your mother is incredibly shortsighted and unfocused. You don’t promote your wealth.” She frowned. “You don’t wear it like a trophy. You’re humble. You’d rather talk about plants and the environment than money.”
“But I am wealthy.”
“I assumed you were, but not the kind of wealth you’re talking about.”
I leaned closer. “Does that make the idea of being married to me a little easier?” I teased.
“Not happening.”
“I disagree.”
“Go look in the mirror and argue with yourself, Bane. It’s the only way you win this one.”
She walked away, skirting the island so I couldn’t catch her. “I’m tired. Order something in, okay, Daddy Warbucks? I’m hungry, and I need a shower.”
“I’ll order Chinese and come wash your back.”
“I want two spring rolls,” she called over her shoulder.
But she didn’t tell me to stay put.
Win number one for the night.