Surrender Page 8

One second I was on his lap, writhing, breathless, dizzy. And the next I was falling against the door. I was still breathless and dizzy, but he wasn’t touching me anymore.

  Angled over me, he said, “I meant what I said. You don’t have to—”

  “I want to.”

  “No.” His lips were gleaming, his face flushed. “I won’t do this to you. I won’t.” His voice softened as he added, “You deserve so much more, Abigail. A hell of a lot better than me.” He helped me return to a seminormal sitting position. “Whether you realize it now or not, believe me, I’m doing you a favor by stopping this before it gets out of hand.”

  “O-okay.” I blinked at him a few times, then turned away. He was probably right about that. He probably was doing me a huge favor by putting an end to all of this.

  But at the moment, 99 percent of me didn’t want to believe it.

  He cleared his throat. “I think we need to put a little distance between us. Tomorrow I’ll put you on a flight back home.”

  My heart sank to my toes. “Yes, sir.”

  “Dammit, I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I’m really fucking with your head. I can’t keep doing that. I won’t keep doing it.”

  Staring out the window, so he couldn’t see my face, I said, “Like you said, I’m hardly helping—”

  “If I hadn’t started it in the first place, it wouldn’t be a problem now. Besides, it isn’t fair to ask you to make up for my weakness. I’m the one who needs to get his shit together. I will. I’ll do it for you.”

  Not sure what to say, I nodded and tried to concentrate on the lights and bustle of New York at night.

  Roughly thirty-six hours later, I went to work, back at the office, to find an e-mail in my in-box. It was from Kameron. My heart started galloping in my chest as I clicked it.

  I hadn’t spoken with him since that night in the cab. He’d said good night when we had returned to the condo, and the next morning there was a driver and an airline ticket waiting for me. I was taken to the airport and flew home alone.

  I missed him.

  I missed him a lot.

  And for several reasons, including how much I missed him, I decided to put my job hunt on hold.

  Good morning. Heard some news about your situation. I leased the car for the week. A previous passenger, affiliated with another company, not MalTech, spiked the water. He’s been arrested. I hope this news eases your concerns. Kam

  Kam.

  He’d called himself Kam. To me, that was a sign of intimacy. That right there lifted my mood. So did the rest of the e-mail. The truth had been confirmed. It hadn’t been Kam. I’d been wrong. Was I ever glad of that!

  Feeling a little lighter, I went about my day. Time dragged a bit, since Kam hadn’t left me with much to do. I answered his phone and took messages, e-mailing them to him as they came in. Otherwise, I watched the hours tick by until lunchtime. For the first time since I’d taken the job as Kam’s assistant, I went down to the employee cafeteria-slash-diner for lunch. The company had a pretty nice setup down there. There was a cook and a limited selection of entrées and side dishes along with a salad bar and made-to-order hot and cold sandwiches. Before my promotion, I’d go down and eat with Julie Pfeifer. A tiny blonde with big blue eyes and bigger black-framed glasses, and a cool, somewhat quirky personal style, Julie worked in the cubicle kitty-corner to mine. I hadn’t spoken to her since I’d been promoted.

  As I stepped into the room, the scent of the food made my stomach rumble. I glanced around and found Julie standing in line, waiting to place her order. Today she was wearing a funky jacket, high-waisted pencil skirt, and platform shoes. I went up to her and smiled. “Hi.”

  “Oh. Hi,” she said, looking surprised. “I thought you’d left.”

  “Left?”

  “Fired,” she said, leaning closer. “That was the rumor.”

  “No. My brother was fired. Not me.”

  “Oh?” Her brows lifted.

  “I changed departments,” I added, avoiding what I knew she wanted to hear about—the reason for my brother’s departure.

  “Ah. Cool. Where are you at now?”

  The cook placed her hands on the metal counter and looked askance at Julie.

  To the cook, Julie said, “I’ll take a Reuben please. Toasted.” The cook nodded, then turned to me.

  “Nothing for me, thanks.”

  The cook started preparing Julie’s sandwich, and we stepped aside to wait.

  “Where are you working now?” she asked.

  “Up on the tenth floor.”

  “Really? Tenth?” Her smile was a little strained. I sensed she wasn’t just surprised by my news. She was surprised and a little irritated, or perhaps jealous. I decided not to disclose any more.

  “How are things going in Purchasing?”

  “You know, same old same old. I wish they’d fire Clarence. He’s such a micromanager. Drives me insane.”

  “I feel for you.” That was no lie. Clarence, a retired U.S. Air Force officer, nitpicked every minute detail of a job, even the most mundane. It was enough to drive anyone crazy.

  Julie leaned closer to me and whispered, “Any way you could hook me up with a department change?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks.”

  The cook slid a plate onto the steel counter, and Julie grabbed it, setting it on her tray. We moved down to the next section for the fries and preplated salads. I set a small chef’s salad on her tray, and down we went to the cashier to pay. I paid for both our lunches, and together we filled our drink cups and took a seat at a table near a window.

  “Thanks for buying my lunch,” Julie said as she smoothed her napkin over her lap.

  “After all the times you’d paid for mine, I owe you.”

  “I bought what, twice? And all you had was a piece of fruit and a drink.”

  “I still owe you,” I said as I poked at my salad. “And I’ll see what I can do about the transfer.”

  “Thank you.”

  We chatted while we ate. It was nice. I hadn’t realized how isolated I was up in my fancy office. When I headed back up, I started to wish I was following Julie back to my old cubby. All it took was a small reminder about the piddly paycheck that went with that tiny workspace that changed my mind. Quickly.

  At least I had something to do now. I composed an e-mail, asking Kam if he knew of anyone up on the tenth floor needing an administrative assistant. I wished to recommend someone. He responded within seconds saying he’d take her name and see what he could do.

  Feeling like I’d accomplished something worthwhile, I concentrated on booking Kam’s appointments for next week, then called it a day. Outside of lunch with Julie, the e-mail about her move, and the little bit of busy work I’d done, it had been a really boring day. I missed Kam as much when the day was over as I had when it first started. It was strange walking past his empty desk, through his empty office. Strange and lonely.

  And he wouldn’t be back until Monday. I hoped the rest of the week would pass faster.

  But of course, it didn’t.

  Time crawled slower than a sleeping turtle.

  The only highlights of those days were the brief and much too infrequent e-mails or texts I received from Kam. By Friday afternoon, I was literally counting down the minutes until the weekend. I was shutting down my computer when I received an e-mail from him.

  Hi Ab. Tell your friend to come and see me Monday morning at nine o’clock.

  Kam

  Looked like he’d found something for her.

  I sent off a response to him, then called her. She answered on the first ring.

  “Great news!” I said. “You’re to come up to Kam—to Mr. Maldonado’s office on Monday morning. Nine o’clock.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I think you’re being transferred.” I scooped up my purse and hooked the strap over my elbow.

  “No way!”

  “Don’t quote me on that.�
��

  “Ohmygod!” she practically shrieked into my ear. “Thank you so much.”

  “No problem.”

  “What did he say? Do you know anything?”

  “He didn’t say anything. Just to have you come up and meet with him Monday.”

  “If I get the transfer—oh crap, gotta go.”

  The phone cut off.

  If I had money to bet, and I am the betting type, I’d lay two-to-one odds on the fact that Clarence was standing in her cubicle.

  At exactly five, I headed downstairs. On the way down I took a little detour through my old department to see if Julie was still in her cubby. No, she’d left.

  I drove home. Nobody there. Joss was gone. I was alone. Hungry. I checked the refrigerator. Nothing to eat. I decided to splurge, called in a carryout order from Antonio’s and asked for delivery. Then I changed into some comfortable clothes and flopped onto the couch to catch up on all my favorite shows. Two hours later I’d eaten way too much pasta, I was still alone, I’d watched a couple of shows, and I was bored, bored, bored.

  I scrolled through my phone, looking for someone to go out with. I tried a couple of numbers, including Julie’s. No answer.

  My phone chimed. I had a text.

  Hoping it might be Julie or my brother, I checked it. I hadn’t heard a peep from Joss all night. That wasn’t a good sign.

  The text was from Kam.

  Where are you right now? his message read.

  I answered. Home.

  I’m in town. Want to grab a drink somewhere?

  A drink! Had he changed his mind about our relationship remaining purely professional?

  Sure.

  Pick you up in twenty, he texted.

  See you then.

  I jumped up from my couch and ran to my room. I tore through my closet, searching for something to wear. Kam had bought me all those gorgeous clothes in New York, over ten thousand dollars’ worth. And I couldn’t find anything that was quite right for going out for drinks. Most of the clothes I’d bought were for work. Suits and blouses. Blazers and pencil skirts. Trousers. The few evening pieces I’d bought were fairly formal, either very long or extremely dressy. I wavered between a pair of black pants and a blouse that was semisheer and one of the more casual evening dresses I’d bought. I tried the blouse and pants first, then changed my mind and went with the dress. It was charcoal gray and clingy, knee length, and made out of a smooth knit that hugged my curves and made me look ten pounds thinner. I opted for a pair of adorable, bright coral patent leather heels, a coral necklace, and gold bag.

  I was stuffing my wallet into my purse when a knock on the door signaled Kam’s arrival.

  My heart hopped like a rabbit.

  I took a deep breath before opening the door.

  That breath left my lungs in a swift whoosh when our gazes met. His eyes were dark and full of emotion. He stepped in, pulled me into his arms, and crushed me to him.

  “I missed you,” he said in my ear.

  “I . . . missed you too.” I tipped my head back so I could look him in the eyes.

  He stared into my eyes for a moment, then his gaze wandered down to my mouth.

  My tongue slipped out, moistening my lips.

  My heart started thumping against my breastbone.

  Was he going to kiss me? Had he decided the whole I-won’t-touch-you-again thing wasn’t going to work?

  His head dipped lower, lower. But just when I expected his mouth to meet mine, he pushed me back slightly and he took a step away. His face was the shade of a pomegranate. “You look great.”

  “Thanks.”

  “We’d better go.”

  “Okay.” After I double-checked to make sure I had my house keys, I proceeded out the door. Kam steered me to the sleek black sports car parked outside my apartment building, his hand resting ever so softly on the small of my back. I sat in the passenger seat while he circled around the front and took his place behind the wheel.

  Within seconds we were zooming down the road.

  It was a gorgeous night. Not too warm. Not too cool. The vehicle’s windows were open just enough to let in some fresh air without blowing my hair all over the place like a maelstrom. But inside the vehicle there was an odd tension. It seemed to pull at me, make me uneasy.

  I was the one who broke the silence between us. “Thanks for helping Julie out with a transfer.”

  “Actually, I couldn’t get her a transfer. Not yet.”

  “Oh.” Julie was going to be very disappointed. I felt bad for her.

  “I want to meet with her to find out why she is looking for a new job,” he explained as he braked the car for a red light.

  “Oh. I don’t know if she’ll tell you that.”

  “I hope she will. Do you know?” he asked.

  “I have some idea.”

  He turned his head to look at me. “Tell me.”

  The light changed to green. I pointed. “I think I’d rather let her decide whether she wants to tell you.”

  “Fair enough.”

  We drove for another few moments without speaking. I switched back and forth from admiring Kam’s profile—he was such a stunning man—to watching buildings and cars fly by. The tension between us was still as bad as it was when we’d first gotten in the car. I was the one, once again, who broke the silence. “How was the rest of your trip?”

  “It was work. I don’t like leaving town. It wasn’t bad when you were with me. But once you left . . .”

  Did my presence really mean that much to him? “It was pretty strange coming to work every day and not seeing you.”

  He smiled at me. It was the kind of smile that made a girl’s heart literally skip a beat. “You say that now, but you’ll probably wish I was gone again by Tuesday.” He steered the car onto the freeway.

  I didn’t believe that for a minute. In fact, he had just returned and I was already dreading when he would have to leave next.

  “We’ll see about that,” I said as the weight of my words sunk in. The truth was, I was falling for him.

  Falling hard. Falling fast. Falling for my boss.

  8

  “Thank you for accepting my spur-of-the-moment invitation.” We were stopped at an intersection after having driven about twenty minutes on the freeway. While Kam waited for the light to change, he gave me a long, assessing once-over. “I was surprised to learn you were home alone on a Friday night.”

  I shrugged. “I was in the mood for a quiet night.”

  “Did I ruin your plans?”

  “Nope. Not at all.”

  Neither of us said anything else until we were pulling into a dark parking area behind a towering brick and steel building. I just kept wondering what was going to happen tonight, after my rather awkward departure from New York. And he seemed to be in a very quiet, introspective mood. As strange as it was, I was okay with the quiet. I didn’t feel like I had to fill the minutes with eager chatter.

  “Have you ever been to the Cavern?” Kam asked as he shifted the vehicle out of gear, parking behind the building.

  “No.”

  “I hope you like it. I’m not much for crowds, but this place is pretty nice.” He unfolded his large frame as he got out of the car, then circled around to my side and opened my door. Seconds later, he escorted me to the club’s back door and knocked.

  “Isn’t this a service entrance?” I asked.

  “Like I said, I don’t like crowds.”

  The door swung open, and a man greeted Kam with a handshake and a big, friendly smile, welcoming him inside. As Kam steered me through the open door, he introduced me to our host, Miron.

  Miron gave me a quick up and down before extending a hand and offering one of those bright smiles. “Good to meet you.”

  “Miron owns the Cavern,” Kam told me as we zigged and zagged around hustling cooks in the kitchen. The scents of food made my mouth water, and the deep throb of music pounded through my body.

  “Only because Kam lent me t
he money to get the place up and running,” Miron said over his shoulder.

  “You had a great business plan.” Kam was behind me. “It’s been a solid investment.”

  “Yeah, well, you were the only one who saw the potential.” Kam smiled. “Which has paid off nicely.”

  The two friends shared a laugh. And Miron pushed open a door, leading out of the kitchen and into the dimly lit, sexy main space of the club. Two walls were brick, the black ceiling a soaring twenty feet or so up. Directly to my right was a stage for live performances, currently empty. And in front of the stage was a dance floor, also empty.

  “Have a good time, you two.” Miron motioned us out.

  “Thanks.” Kam gave Miron’s hand another shake, then steered me through the door with gentle pressure on the small of my back. My skin prickled beneath my dress as my nerves responded to his touch. “It’s a little early yet. This place will be packed in a couple of hours,” Kam explained as he directed me toward the wall at the far end of the space. In front of the wall was an arched bar, unmanned. On either side of it were exits that led out to a smaller, more intimate lounge area with padded leather booths. Kam motioned me to the farthest booth. I sat.

  Before I’d had a chance to say anything, a waiter approached us, smiling. “Mr. Maldonado. It’s good to have you back, sir.”

  “Thank you. I’ll take a bottle of Chardonnay.”

  “Very good. I’ll be back shortly.” Off the waiter went, to fetch our wine.

  Kam’s gaze locked on mine. “Are you sure I didn’t ruin your evening, calling you last minute like this?”

  Ruin? How could he think he had ruined my night? He had done nothing to wreck it . . . yet. “No, not at all.”

  His lips curled into a semismile. “I didn’t feel like being alone.”

  It struck me then, for the first time, as I gazed into his dark eyes that he might be lonely. A man who looked like a model, who had enough money to buy anything he wanted, anytime, lonely. A man who spent hours upon hours talking to people, Lonely. A man who probably had women throwing themselves at his feet, lonely.