Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
New York—Present Day
Declan leaned against the wall outside of Olivia’s hotel room, hoping that if he could control his breathing, it would also ease the ache in his chest.
Too close.
He’d been seconds away from making a catastrophic mistake. The urge to pound on her door, force his way back in, and drive himself into her body until she screamed was almost unbearable.
The look on her face when he said she’d meant nothing to him…
He was a bastard, and this was exactly why he had to stay away from her.
Declan inhaled a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly.
Olivia wasn’t an option for him.
His jaw ticked as he made his way back to his apartment in the city. He was furious with himself. He should have expected Chris’s interest in her. Not just because she was a beautiful, impressive woman, but because Declan now knew that Chris would do anything to secure his position at Bloom Communications.
Declan’s phone was practically exploding from where it sat on his desk.
Cara: Declan! Are you alive?
Luke: He hasn’t answered any of my texts.
James: Brady talked to him yesterday. He’s still breathing, even if he’s ignoring us.
Cami: Interesting. Last I saw him, he was carrying a ‘business associate’ across the lobby like some sort of romantic hero.
Luke: laughing emoji.
Dahlia: Don’t be an ass, Luke. I’ll tell your family about all the sweet things you do for me.
Luke: That’s because I am an amazing boyfriend.
James: Modest too
Luke: Why should I be modest?
Cara: It’s a virtue?
Wes Evans has removed himself from the chat.
Cami: Did Wes leave?
Wes Evans has been added to the chat.
Cara: Nice try. There is no escape.
Wes: I don’t need to know all of this. You can fill me in later.
Cara: You better not leave again.
Luke: No marital spats in the group text
Cara: Are you guys all still coming over this weekend?
Cami: Yes!!!! Can’t wait. You promised holiday cocktails.
James: Has anyone other than Brady actually seen Declan since last weekend?
Luke: Nope. If he’s dead, I get the 968 he has stored in Connecticut.
James: Then I call dibs on the Spider.
Cami: Isn’t that a two-seater?
Luke: Yes. Why?
Cami: No reason.
Cara: wide-eyed emoji Are you trying to tell us something?
Cami: No.
Dahlia: Oh my god! ARE YOU GUYS HAVING A BABY.
James: Not today.
Luke: WTF
Cami: I’m not pregnant. Stop tormenting your family.
Cara: Declan
Luke: Declan
James: Declan
Declan: Shut the fuck up.
Cami: He lives!
Declan: I’m working. See you at Cara’s.
Declan swiped his thumb across his phone, setting the family group chat to do not disturb . He knew he’d given them a lot to talk about after the way he’d stormed out of the Crystal Gala with Olivia in his arms, but he wasn’t sure what he was going to say to them. Declan had never behaved like that in his entire life.
The desire to take care of Olivia, to protect her, had been impossible to resist. He hadn't thought… just reacted. Declan rubbed at his forehead.
It was a risk he probably shouldn’t have taken. But during the car ride to her hotel, when Olivia had smiled hazily up at him, Declan couldn’t bring himself to leave her. He could rationalize it was because she was so out of it she needed to be watched, but it didn’t explain why he’d held her hair back while she was sick. Or why he slipped his undershirt over her because he was worried she would be cold, or why he used her makeup wipe thingies to take off all of her makeup.
“Are you coming to bed this year?” Declan laughed from the bed. The door to the bathroom stood open, and he could see the tantalizing length of her long legs under his T-shirt as Rose stood, using some sort of cloth to take her makeup off.
“Two seconds. I just need to get this off.”
Declan flipped back the top of the coverlet as she tossed something in the trash can and turned to him with her glorious smile.
“You know, you’d save a lot of time if you didn’t wear makeup.”
Rose planted a knee on the bed and leaned toward him, her breasts hanging free in his shirt, her heavy, dark hair enveloping him in her rose scent.
“Still would have to wash my face. You don’t want me to be a gross old hag someday, do you?”
His heart twinged. “You’ll be the most beautiful one-hundred-year-old around,” he said, letting his brogue roll his Rs. Rose giggled as she straddled him, the heat of her against his cock drawing an instant response.
“It’s all about prevention,” she breathed before lowering her lips to his.
“Armstrong Electronics sent some questions,” Cecile said, striding into the temporary Atlanta offices. Declan grunted. He would have been surprised if they hadn’t.
Cecile hesitated, and Declan glanced up from the papers in front of him.
“Did you want them now?”
“No.”
She had been with him long enough to know there was no point in questioning him. Declan would look over their questions, but he had no intention of answering until after Christmas. “Leave them on my desk. What time is your flight?”
“Seven o’clock. I’ll be back on the twenty-eighth, and I’ll be available on my cell if you need me. Todd is leaving soon, too.”
Declan nodded. Working for him was a 365-day kind of job, but he compensated his employees well for their dedication.
“This deal is what I’m focusing on. There won’t be any movement before then. Enjoy your holiday.”
“Do you need me to arrange anything for you?”
He glanced up, and Cecile arched a perfect eyebrow. “Do you need me to send anything to Ms. Carrol?”
Shit. He’d forgotten about Fiona. A weight descended on his shoulders, and a vision of sapphire eyes flashed in front of him. He gripped his pen and mentally shook it off.
“Yes. Something nice. Not jewelry.”
“Her personal shopper mentioned she’s been eyeing the new Hermes bag.”
Declan grunted. He should have known Cecile would be two steps ahead of him.
“Great.” He returned to his work, listening to Cecile’s heels tapping across his office and the shutting of the door.
After a moment, he flipped the file shut and leaned back in the chair, scrubbing a hand across his eyes.
He couldn’t concentrate. No matter how hard he tried to will his mind into submission, it kept returning to the other night. It was as though the seal on the vault of memories he’d shut away years ago for his sanity had broken. Now, he couldn’t think of anything but her.
Declan groaned. He’d called her Petal. Idiot.
He looked around the offices he’d leased for his time in Atlanta. They weren’t nearly as luxurious as his offices above Water Street in New York’s financial district, but they suited his purposes. He hadn’t been lying when he told Fiona that all he needed for work was a phone. Most of what he did these days was put the deals together.
He could move to Atlanta… His siblings were here, and soon there would be nieces and nephews. His mood soured as he looked down at the folder Cecile had left on his desk.
But so was she. Declan couldn’t live in the same city as her and not have her. It was hard enough being on the same planet now that he’d seen her again.
He wasn’t that big of a masochist.
But once the deal was done… and Chris and Courtney dealt with… maybe…
No. He forced himself to ignore his emotions.
If he regained his seat at Bloom Communications, he would need to live in New York, and her job was here.
Not to mention if someone from his past who felt wronged ever came looking.
She was safer away from him.
Declan stood, loosening his tie as he shuffled the files on his desk into a neat stack. He wouldn’t be getting any work done tonight, and the skeleton staff he’d brought to Atlanta had already returned to their families for Christmas.
Declan had always loved the holidays, the time with his family… but everything was different now. When his father died two years ago, and Courtney inherited his father’s fortune, Declan had wanted to challenge the will immediately. He knew her first step would be to remove him from his position as CEO at Bloom Communications, the company he’d given his entire life to.
And of course, that was exactly what she’d done, before cutting them all off. The money hadn’t been a hardship for Declan or his brothers. They each had money they’d either earned or received from their father throughout their lives to build their own fortunes. But losing status and money had devastated Cara, only twenty-four at the time. His jaw clenched again as he remembered everything his sister had gone through.
Cara may have moved past it, happy in her marriage and new career, but Declan wouldn’t rest until he’d gotten revenge.
He punched a number into his phone. “Progress report,” he barked, not bothering with a greeting.
“Merry Christmas to you too,” Brady drawled.
Declan narrowed his eyes as he paced across the office to stare down at the street below. He wasn’t in the mood to put up with the man’s antics.
Brady was the twins’ friend, not his. Declan didn’t need friends; he needed answers. He let the silence draw out between them, begrudgingly acknowledging that Brady wasn’t easy to disconcert.
It was one of the reasons Declan hired Brady’s security firm rather than his normal security team. He had put the younger man in touch with Vincent Menardi, former head of Bloom security, and tasked them both with looking for the prostitute who had survived Chris’s drunk driving accident. Declan needed that woman’s testimony as leverage.
Brady might come across as carefree and nonchalant, but Declan had learned, when it came to his job, Brady was deadly serious.
A heavy sigh sounded on the phone. “With all the fancy education you Blooms got, someone should have spent money on a finishing school. You guys are cranky as shit.”
“Noted.”
“We used the name Vincent gave James—Abigail Sanders, the alias Vincent set up for her after the accident—and tracked her to New Orleans, where she got a job as a dancer, but after a few months she disappeared again. There are other Abigail Sanders in the US, but none of them matches her description or background.”
"Do you think she's dead?" Declan's brow furrowed in concern. That would be disastrous. He needed the woman alive to uncover the details of what happened almost four years ago, when Chris, driving Declan's car, had killed a prostitute who worked for Courtney's escort service. Declan bitterly recalled how Courtney and Chris had framed him, using the threat of turning him over to the police to blackmail his father into marrying Courtney.
The familiar knot tightened in his stomach as he remembered how his father had believed Courtney's lies, thinking Declan had been the one driving. Though Courtney's son Trey had manipulated photographs to incriminate Declan, it still hurt that his father hadn't trusted him enough to ask.
The old anger surged through him. David Bloom had been a stubborn man. Vincent, loyal to the Blooms and convinced Declan was the driver, had arranged for the surviving escort to be paid off. But now knowing the truth, Vincent was eager to help.
There was no statute of limitations on murder. Even if they couldn't prove Chris was the driver during the fatal accident, it should be enough, along with everything else, to convince the board to reinstate Declan as CEO.