Double-Cross My Heart (29 page)

“I don’t remember having loads of wonderful men lined up and me deciding I couldn’t take time out from my work,” she protested.

“Maybe you haven’t had loads of men, but there have been a few guys. You know there were two or three men who you could have gotten serious about…and you didn’t because you didn’t ‘have the energy to give a relationship’. Remember? That guy Jeremy, a few years back? And what about Jared? He actually asked you to marry him.”

“And move to California,” Eden reminded her friend dismissively. “I’m not interested in living in California. For one thing my family, such as it is, would be too close.”

“That’s beside the point,” Jessica said, shifting out of the way as her daughter came tumbling into the kitchen. “You married the company a long time ago.”

Eden looked at her, unable to completely disagree. It wasn’t that she didn’t have men in her life, but none had ever really impacted her that much.

Until now.

“I loved Devon,” she told her friend, the tight sensation in her chest growing heavier. “But I didn’t want to move to California to marry him.”

“You didn’t love him enough,” Jessica said, bending to lift her daughter in her arms. “You loved Michele Cosmetics more.”

“Is that so wrong? I’m not supposed to care about my employees or the company?” Eden asked with a tinge of anger. “No one says that kind of thing to men. Are women supposed to love their work less than men?”

“It’s not about men and women,” Jessica said. “It’s about having a life outside your work, regardless of your gender.”

“I do,” Eden protested, her voice hesitant. “I think I do.”

Against her will, she recalled sitting and watching Alex coach his nieces’ basketball game, going with him to his friends’ apartment. Making love with him long into the night.

“I…have a life.”

“You don’t want,” her friend said again, “to end up with no life outside of work. Maybe Alex can help you get one.”

“So, I should give everything up? Screw all the people who work for this company? Throw it all away and get it on with Alex?” Eden queried.

“I don’t know. Is Alex asking you to do that? Give up everything? Or just this company?”

“It’s hard to tell the difference,” Eden said slowly. “I’m not sure there is any.”

“That’s a problem,” Jessica said. “And you’ve got to sort it out. Does Alex love you, aside from the company—“

“No!” Eden rushed to say with sarcasm.

“—and regardless of how he feels, do you love him?”

The sinking feeling inside Eden grew as she looked at her friend.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, lying through her teeth.

***

Alex stood in the hall, waiting for Eden to answer the door. He’d sat in his car, counting windows for five minutes. It was past one o’clock, though, and he’d needed to be sure the lit window was hers. Alex had learned a long time ago not to thrust his insomnia on other people. But the one window with a light on, five floors up on the south face of the building, had to be hers.

Just then Eden opened her door, looking startled to have him knocking at this hour.

“Alex!” She was wearing flannel pajamas and a cleanly scrubbed face, her short dark hair ruffled up on one side. “Are you okay? It’s after one in the morning.”

“I know,” he said ruefully. “Were you asleep? I just realized you could have fallen asleep with the light on.”

She glanced back over her shoulder at the short hall that led to her bedroom, warm lamplight spilling into the darkened living area. “No, I wasn’t asleep. I’ve been going over some reports.”

“I hoped it was something like that,” he said, his usual confidence altered by a crazy, tenuous hopefulness. He normally faced the night by himself, making sure he didn’t burden others with his peculiarity. But tonight he found himself hungering to be with her, to find some kind of shelter in her presence.

“Come in,” she said, stepping back for him to pass in front of her.

“I don’t want to disturb you,” he said carefully. It was her. She brought out this intense longing—just to be with her, to listen to the sound of her breathing. Ironically, since he’d slept beside her, he slept even worse on his own.

Why the hell had he chosen this woman to fall in love with? Why hadn’t he been honest with her from the beginning?

“It’s no problem,” she said quickly, locking the door behind him.

“Are you working in your bedroom?” he asked, gesturing toward the door, hoping his desire to be with her didn’t make him look as stupid as he felt.

“Yes,” she said, “come on back. I’ve been trying to get some things put together for the advertising department. It would look funny if I didn’t keep pushing forward.”

“Yeah,” he said, not interested in business at this moment. For the past few weeks he’d been fighting the truth. He’d connived his way into her life like a thief. No matter how much he’d tried to tell himself he wasn’t to blame for her struggles, he couldn’t get away from the truth.

Still, he promised himself fiercely, he’d make it up to her. He’d get her what she deserved from this damned company. He’d help set her free.

Her bed was littered over with reports in a semi-circle around the spot where she’d obviously been sitting.

“Go on,” he said, taking her hand and urging her to get back in bed. “I know you need to finish.”

“I really do,” she said apologetically.

“Climb back in bed,” he told her. “It’s cold in here.”

He knew she was probably assuming this was a booty call, but he had no urge to insist she stop her work and “service” him. He’d never been about that sort of relationship, as selfish an asshole as he felt right now. Had his ethics always been so flexible? Had he always found a way to make the things he wanted seem okay?

“It is cold in here,” she said, getting under the covers. “I turn the heat down at night.”

“You’re freezing.” He tucked the blankets and down comforter around her legs, careful not to disarrange her papers.

“Go on with what you were doing.” Alex threw his coat on a chair next to the bed. Slipping off his shoes, he crawled onto her wide bed, occupying the non-littered half.

“I do need to get these finished,” she said, eyeing him uncertainly.

“Go on,” he admonished. “Pretend I’m not here.”

“Why are you here?” she asked hesitantly.

“Because I miss being with you,” he said, finding this truth easiest, anyway.

“We were together last night,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” he said, propping a couple of pillows between his back and the headboard of the bed. “But not today, so…I missed you.”

“Oh.” Eden looked at him for a long moment, a smile curling her lips. “Okay. That’s nice.”

“Get your work done,” he told her yet again. “I’m sure you have to get into the office bright and early, as usual.”

She smiled. “You know me too well.”

“Not too well,” he said, smiling back. “But I’m working on it.”

Her gaze rested warmly on his face before she looked down at her work. She said again, “Okay.”

Feeling a little of the tension that had been deviling him start draining away, Alex studied her. Several ink pens lie on a stack of reports next to her knee. On the far side of where she sat was something that looked like a ad campaign mock-up.

He loved her and his insides were gripped now with the possibility of losing her. If he’d had a friend in a similar situation he’d recommend a complete confession followed by a heartfelt and impassioned plea for mercy.

The image of her shock, the pain and disbelief he’d see in her eyes, stopped him

Alex knew he should tell her how he’d set up the mugging—how he’d played her in the beginning—he should confess, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t face hurting her…and possibly losing her.

Tucked under the cover, Eden picked up her pen and with several swift notations, modified the text to her taste. She then took a pad of sticky notes and jotted down several comments that she affixed to the mock-up.

“What time did you get home tonight?” he asked.

Without looking up from her work, she said absently, “Around ten o’clock, I think.”

“Still doing all your work, plus Wendi’s and Michele’s?”

She cast him a side-long glance. “Pretty much.”

Alex asked, “If you were running this show yourself, would you change that?”

“Change what?”

He gestured to the work stacked all around her. “All this. Would you delegate?”

“Yes.” She stopped to consider his question. “I’d probably promote several people in the marketing department. Joe Garcia is terrific. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes but he’s got good instincts. I’d have two senior vice presidents. Doyle has some real strengths. I’d keep him. Doyle McKenzie, the other guy at my level, has been out for about six months due to complications after a car accident—that’s partly why my work load is heavier now. He’s got a good person as his assistant, so she’s been helpful, but Doyle’s coming back soon. His doctor said he ought to be out of physical therapy in several months.”

“He’s been off work for a long time,” Alex said.

She nodded. “But Doyle’s quick. He’ll get back into the swing of things. I’ve been sending him reports….”

Eden’s words trailed off into silence, her gaze fixed on the ambient air in front of her.

“He’ll be in for quite a shock, won’t he?” Alex asked quietly, knowing she was realizing her co-worker wouldn’t have a job to return to. God, he felt like a piece of shit.

Since when had making money meant sinking to sleaze level? Had he always been so comfortable with incomplete honesty?

“Yes, Doyle will be shocked,” she said, putting down the papers she’d been holding.

Watching her suddenly somber face, Alex said, “You worry about them, don’t you? The people you work with? That’s part why this transition is hard for you.”

She turned a serious gaze on him. “Of course. It’s like…I’m selling them out for my own personal gain.”

Nodding, Alex knew he didn’t need to remind her again that she’d had little choice but to screw or be screwed. None of this was her fault, but that reality didn’t make it any easier.

He couldn’t get the taste of guilt out of his mouth. No matter how many times he reminded himself that things were going south for her in this company before he came along, Alex could see how she must think he’d only made the situation worse for her.

He hated that thought.

The urge to deny it, to defend himself—even in his own head—was strong, but he was developing a massive conscience where she was concerned. Maybe he’d been overly optimistic about things turning out well for her. Could he be sure she’d be happier in the long run?

“What would you do,” she asked him, turning to study his face, “if you were actually running this company? If you were going to keep it intact and make it more profitable?”

Picking up the ad layout she’d already critiqued, he studied it a moment, formulating his answer in his head. “I think, if I were going to actually go into the cosmetics business, I’d have to learn a lot…and I’d probably hire you to teach me.”

He looked up at her with a crooked smile, the irony of the situation biting. “I’d put you at the helm and watch you work.”

Their gazes locked, he saw her lip tremble and her eyes mist over before she looked down and picked up the papers.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said, her voice husky with emotion.

“You’re welcome,” he said, the warmth inside of him bringing a fresh wave of guilt. But he was into it. How the hell could he get out and maintain her feelings for him? She’d never said she was in love with him and he fiercely wanted the chance to one day hear those words. Almost as fiercely as he wanted her to win everything she deserved.

Bent again over her work Eden cast him a brief, tremulous smile, the scratching of her pen on the paper the only noise in the room.

Stretched out beside her, he felt himself sinking into a fuzzy relaxation. Just being next to her, the scent of her soap all clean and inviting, made him draw in a deep breath. Alex exhaled, a deep sense of relaxation overcoming him as he dropped his head to the pillow
.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Eden’s gaze strayed once again to the man sleeping beside her, the pen in her hand dropping onto the stack of papers in her lap.

His head dark against her pillow, his breathing even, he was gone from the world. Curled slightly, his lax hand lay on the comforter near her knee. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from it. In his hand, as in him, there was strength and grace.

She’d had a cat in college, a boy tabby who’d combined a sleek, lithe muscularity with a boneless capacity for relaxation. When alert and prowling, that cat had a powerful pounce, but the sight of him collapsed in slumber was pure latent brawn.

Alex slept like that cat. His breathing was deep and even, his body relaxed on top of the comforter. She watched him, a welter of emotion rising in her chest—grief locked up with longing, yearning all tangled with regret.