2. Phoenix #2
“Had you talked to your father before barging in here, trespassing on private property, flying off the handle, wailing about foul play, shrieking and keening like a goddamn banshee, you’d know what’s at stake here.”
She purses her lips together, conceding I’ve one upped her. “I tried to call him, but he’s dealing with a situation.”
“I’m willing to bet my fortune your father is behind this?—”
“My––my father is behind this?”
Ah. A tiny crack in her armor.
“I’m certain of it,” I say. “He has the most to gain from this publicity stunt.”
“You’re not making any sense,” she says. “My father would never do such a thing.”
“He would if he was looking for extra leverage.”
“Leverage on what?”
“Your father and I have a deal.”
“A deal?”
“Yes.” I nod. “An ironclad deal, which is why I don’t know why he felt the need to force my hand.”
“What kind of deal are you talking about?”
“Like I said, you should’ve talked to your father before coming to me.”
“Well, I’m here now and I’m asking you. Instead of answering my question, you’re being elusive, which is characteristic of a manipulative liar.”
“I’m not the one using undermining tactics, sweetheart. Your father masters the art of deception.”
A thunderous storm rages in her eyes.
She leaps towards me like a bull in a ring charging at full speed towards the matador’s red cape.
I’m quick.
I reach out to snatch her wrist before her palm hits my cheek and force her hand to rest against my chest.
She flinches at the contact.
So do I.
For a brief moment we both seem startled by the proximity.
It’s a good thing I’m too fucking wound up right now to enjoy the warmth of her body against mine.
She breathes in and out, seemingly preparing for a second attack.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I say, my steady voice betraying the frantic palpitation of my heart.
“Stop it with your lies,” she says. She tries but fails to break from my grip.
Even when she’s immobilized, she’s willing to fight with all her might.
“The ink is already dried on the contract,” I say. “As of two days ago, my company owns the Villiers Grand Hotel.”
She blinks.
And blinks again.
More frantic blinking.
“My father sold the hotel?” The revelation takes the wind out of her.
I nod. “Yes, he did.”
She studies me for a long beat.
I hold her murderous gaze.
A hysterical laugh leaves her lips. “You’re such a bullshitter.”
Okay, I have no idea how to read this woman.
“And you’re blind,” I say.
“You’re a pretentious asshole.”
Time to remove the kid gloves. “If you deigned to get off your high horse and open your fucking eyes, you would’ve noticed your father is drowning in debt.
He owes a ton of money he can’t repay. But no, you’re here pretending to know what you’re talking about, but in reality, you know shit, and you’re only shooting your mouth off. ”
Her shoulders stiffen at the insult.
“That’s right, sweetheart, you’re not the only one who can throw the punches,” I say.
For several long seconds we enter a Mexican standoff, nostrils flaring, eyes trained on each other, breaths meshing together.
“I don’t believe you,” she says.
Niels Knight was supposed to step up to the plate and explain his precarious situation to his daughter. The onus wasn’t supposed to fall on me.
Michaela is still staring at me like she wants to stab my eyeballs with a fork.
“Everyone has a price, Miss Knight.” My words are cold.
“Niels made a promise to your mother. A lot has happened recently, making it harder and harder for him to keep that promise. I’m unwilling to go into details—that’s your father’s job, not mine—suffice to say, his back was up against a wall.
He needed a quick exit strategy. I just so happened to be in the market for a new hotel in Manhattan. ”
Her lips form into an O.
I didn’t expect our first encounter to be sugary sweet, but this hostility is amped up by the fact she has no clue how much shit her father is dealing with.
“As far as merger-marriages go,” I say, “it’s part and parcel of everything else I’ve agreed to. Your father had a long list of demands I was willing to meet.”
“A merger-marriage?”
“Yes.”
“What does that even mean?”
“The merger part is where I bail out your family hotel and fold it under our umbrella of hotels to prevent it from going into bankruptcy.”
“Bankruptcy?” Her question comes out on a stunned breath.
I nod.
“The hotel is no longer ours?”
“Not until the debt is paid off.”
“But that’ll take forever,” she says.
“There are ways of shaving off a considerable number of years from the repayment plan.”
“What kind of ways?” She’s no longer spitting fire at me.
“That’s where the marriage part kicks in.” I allow for a pregnant pause. “You and me… in holy matrimony.” A little sarcasm never hurts.
She hitches a breath. Her green eyes are so huge right now.
“I’m tied to you by my father’s debt?”
I tilt my head left to right. “Something like that.”
She stares at me in shock.
“No. No way.” She shakes her head. “Nope. Not happening. We are never ever entering into holy matrimony. Not in this lifetime. Not in the next.”
Let me break it down for you, sweetheart. “I’ll be sinking in two hundred million dollars in exchange for your agreement to become my wife for three-hundred-sixty-five days.”
Her jaw drops.
“Daddy sold me?”
“He did what he had to do.”
Silence surrounds us.
Myriad emotions flash in her green eyes.
I don’t know her well enough to decipher them all, but what I see reflecting from her gaze indicates I’m her least favorite person on the planet right now.
I don’t rush her.
I give her time to process everything.
Once she accepts her new reality, we can figure out the next steps.
“Let go of my arm,” she says.
Not the reaction I expected.
“I said, let go of my arm.” Her tone is slicing.
I do.
Her green eyes snap up at me in rebellion. “This meeting is adjourned.”
My eyebrows shoot to my forehead. “Are you kidding me?”
She squares her shoulders. “Do I look like I’m fucking kidding?” Without waiting for an answer, she turns on her heel.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m sure you’re pulling a fast one on me.
My father would never sell the Villiers Grand.
Never. He’d die before he ever let that happen.
And, if he were in any kind of financial trouble, he would’ve told me about it.
” Michaela throws her parting words over her shoulder, still striding towards the door.
“I wouldn’t have to hear it from you—a complete stranger.
” She comes to an abrupt stop and turns around to face me.
“I’m sure you make it a sport to step all over the little guy, Mr. King Kong Tycoon. ”
King Kong Tycoon?
“But we’re not going down without a fight. I don’t know what kind of fucked up, twisted, and pathetic mind game you’re playing, you cruel corporate sadist, but I’m out of here.”
I’m so dumbfounded, words escape me.
Jesus.
Her tongue is sharper than an obsidian blade, her attitude as abrasive as sandpaper.
“I pray to God I never see your face again, Phoenix Konig.” She flips me the bird, and she flies out of here like the flames of hell are licking her designer high heels. She slams the door behind her so hard, I’m surprised the windows don’t shatter.
Who the hell does she think she is?
She storms in and out of here like she owns the goddamn building.
I should be pissed off. Livid, even.
That little cyclone did a number on me.
Every cell in my body is buzzing.
I’m pulsing with adrenaline. Arousal.
My mind fights it, but my cock stiffens at visions of her stripped naked, bent over my desk, my tongue trailing all over her sinful body before I fuck her like it’s my new mission in life. That would teach her a lesson. One I’m sure she would enjoy as much as I would.