The Sinner's Bargain (Contracts & Deceptions #2) (5 page)

For the first time since she’d gotten back to New York, she saw something other than distaste in his eyes. There was a shattering pain now that mirrored hers. Colin stood and slowly rounded his desk. She forced herself not to reach out to him as he stopped in front of her. Amara could smell him —could almost taste him from this proximity—but she kept her hands at her sides, waiting. Colin reached out, his fingers softly skimming down the sleeves of her white blouse, down her arm, until he reached the bare skin of her wrist.

“It is real, Amara,” he whispered.

Her eyes traveled up his perfectly pressed white shirt to the spot where his collar was open, the knot on his tie that was already loosened, and finally to his eyes—his intense, chocolate eyes.

“I know, but you don’t have to rub it in my face every chance you get,” she said, finally gaining control of herself.

Colin dropped his hand from hers and laughed, his shoulders shaking in dry disbelief as he looked away from her. “I feel like a string puppet, being pulled in all different directions. I don’t have a choice. What don’t you understand? I have to get married. I don’t have to like it, I don’t even have to like
her
, but it’s something I need to do. I wanted it to be you, and you threw it back in my face. And you have the audacity to stand here crying?”

“Why? Why do you
have
to get married before your birthday?” she asked, annoyance clear in her voice.

Colin turned away from her to stand behind his desk again. Clutching the sides of the polished mahogany, he leaned forward with narrowed eyes. “Because this company is riding on that, Amara. Because Lotus is riding on it. Because three of the four companies my dad left behind in his will are dependent on whether or not I get married. If I do, I remain the majority share holder in them.”

Amara licked her lips and placed her hands on the other side of the desk, mimicking his stance. “And if you don’t?”

Colin didn’t answer right away, his eyes wandered from her full lips to her defined arms, her red nails, and back up to her eyes. “If I don’t, my uncle takes my place.”

“Benjamin? Would that be so bad?” Her voice was soft, belying the way her heart raced from the way energy crackled between them.

“It would be for Lotus, Mara. It would be for my mom, probably for my future,” he said, his voice losing its pretense. And just like that, they were only Colin and Amara again, as they were before life got messy and smeared its shit all over them.

Amara exhaled, her minty breath tickling Colin’s senses, making his nostrils flare. “I don’t have a choice in what I’m doing. Fucking strangers is not my idea of a good time, and that’s the least of what I’ve had to do for Philip. One thing I am grateful for though, is that I’ve learned a lot about people.” She paused, unsure of whether or not to finish her statement. Colin leaned in a little closer, their noses almost touching now. Amara’s breath quickened at the movement. “I would be very careful. I can’t marry you. I can’t agree to something like that, not because I don’t want to, Colin, because dammit…” This time, when she let out a breath, he leaned in closer.

“Shit.” The startled voice behind Amara brought reality crashing into the moment. Jumping away from one another, they looked toward the door to find Brandon standing just inside Colin’s office. “I’ll come back,” Brandon blurted apologetically.

“No, I was just leaving,” Amara responded, brushing past him without making eye contact with either of the men.

Intent on busying herself, Amara looked through contacts and sorted out emails and phone numbers. When she heard footsteps behind her again, her back straightened with tension.

“Lunch today?” Brandon asked as he walked past her desk on his way to the elevators.

“Does this lunch involve wine?” she asked with a smile.

Brandon only smiled and winked as he entered the open doors.

When next she heard someone approaching, her heart began to flip flop, knowing it was Colin. She didn’t look up; she couldn’t. The thought of looking into his eyes again made her self-conscious. Amara heard him pause behind her chair, and she waited for him to address her. She didn’t know what to expect.

“We don’t do business with Dr. Edwards anymore,” Colin said, pointing at her screen. “Delete him.”

Amara nodded and did as she was told. His breath was suddenly on the back of her neck, his lips slightly grazing the sensitive area. She inhaled sharply as her insides began to coil tightly.

“We’re going to finish our conversation,” he murmured against her skin.

Amara could barely breathe, so she simply nodded.

“Do you understand?” His words left trails of fire and ice behind them as his lips moved toward the shell of her ear. He didn’t kiss her, didn’t touch her with his hands, but he might as well have been fucking her as he spoke.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Take off after lunch. I’ll see you later,” he said, straightening to walk toward the elevator.

Their eyes met and stayed glued to the other as he stood inside the elevator. When the doors whooshed closed, Amara let out a heavy breath. Finding it hard to concentrate, the time ticked by slowly as she gave up trying to be productive and checked her email. Finding one from Colin, she read it with hesitation. Her eyes danced around the room, watching the ticking clock, looking at the elevator dial showing what floor it was on, everywhere except for the task she was supposed to be working on. . Forcing herself to try to focus on something, she checked her email.

From: Colin O. Wolfe

To: Amara Maloof

Subject: Work

You don’t have to go to the tasting, but I need you to go somewhere with me next Friday night.

Amara let out a relieved breath, and replied quickly, surprised at the defeated feeling that ran through her when she realized she was unavailable. Amara had already been commanded to go on a date on behalf of Méchant next Friday night.

From: Amara Maloof

To: Colin O. Wolfe

Subject: Re: Work

Sorry, but I can’t next Friday.

Amara waited for a response, but never received one.

The hours ticked by quickly, and soon the elevator chimed, bringing Brandon back to their floor.

“Lunch?” he asked, holding the doors open.

She gathered her things, logged off her computer and joined Brandon in the elevator.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, rushing back to her desk to gather the files Colin had asked for. She walked into his office and placed them where he’d instructed, pausing to attach a sticky note to scribble something she’d wanted to tell him earlier. It’s something she was sure she shouldn’t be confiding to him, but she felt she had to. She didn’t need the added stress.

Closing the door behind her, she walked back over to Brandon, who was still holding the elevator. The cab stopped two floors under them, where Colin waited beside an older man with dark brown hair—one she knew intimately. Her face grew warm when he smiled at her. Amara quickly looked down at the floor, avoiding Colin’s wide eyes and questioning looks.

“Going to lunch,” Brandon said as Colin and Samuel stepped into the cab.

Amara felt like she was being strangled, surrounded by Colin, Brandon, and Sam. She inched toward the corner of the elevator, needing breathing room.

“Are you okay?” Samuel asked. She looked up, only able to nod in response, her eyes darting to Colin’s. His answering frown asked what the hell was wrong with her.

“Samuel, this is Amara,” Colin said, finally, and Amara cringed. There was no manual for this—nothing that could tell her what the right thing to do in this situation was.

“Amara,” Samuel said with a hint of his Italian accent, as he extended his hand to her. “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

She shook his hand and nodded, trying to school her features and not think about their history, but her flesh prickled as she remembered having sex with him and Courtney and the intimate moment she’d become a spectator of as he slid out of Amara and into a waiting Courtney. Still, a flush painted her face as she diverted her eyes. The vibe between them was wrong; she was sure anybody standing within a five-mile radius of them could feel the discomfort seeping from her. Colin glared at their joined hands, his jaw twitching, his eyes narrowing as he put the pieces together. He knew, or at least suspected.

Colin’s brown eyes pinned Amara, and she was unable to look away until the elevator doors opened for them in the lobby. Amara waved over her shoulder as she quickly scooted out of the elevator behind Brandon.

“That was… awkward,” he commented as they reached a cab outside the building. She rolled her eyes and almost screamed with joy when they took a cab (normalcy!) to Soho. There was a restaurant Brandon kept raving about, and she was excited to try it.

“So, how’d you end up working as Colin’s assistant?” Brandon asked in the cab.

Curious about his interest, Amara cut her gaze from the window to his. “What have you heard?”

He smirked. “A lot of things, actually. You know how rumors are.”

“What kind of rumors?” she asked as her heart plummeted into her gut.
Did they know about Méchant?

“Well, someone said you were high school sweethearts. Then someone else corrected her and said college sweethearts. Rumor has it you worked for the best marketing company in Paris, but then Colin offered you double the salary so you can come with for him….” He paused, his eyes flicking to hers to see if any of the above was correct. She gave nothing away, just smiled. “Others say he’s marrying Molly but is deeply in love with you and dying to get you back.”

“Huh. Interesting rumors.”

Brandon chuckled. “You’re not even gonna give me an inch?”

She shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I worked for a big marketing company, came back to New York to take care of my sick mom, and Colin offered me a job, being the good friend he’s always been. I took it. That’s it.”

“What about the bit about him being in love with you?”

She turned away from him and the sensation in her chest. “Just a rumor.”

“Huh. The funny thing about rumors is that they’re often true, to a point.”

“Sometimes,” she said with a shrug.

The cab slowed to a stop and Brandon signaled her to get out as he paid the driver.

“That part wasn’t a rumor though,” Brandon said close to her ear as they walked toward the restaurant. “I could see that one this morning.”

“You couldn’t be any more wrong,” she said with a laugh.

“All I know is, I’ve never lost a bet, and my bet is on that.”

“Who are you betting?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“Well, get ready to lose, dueler.”

He smiled. “Never.”

They settled into a booth and placed their orders.

“How long have you known Colin?” she asked as she laid out the napkin over her thighs.

“I met him when I started working here, ten years ago. I started at the bottom, worked my way up, Mr. Wolfe gave me some great opportunities when I needed them,” He shrugged, looking off to the side. “I miss seeing him in the office and learning from him, but when Colin was thrown all this, I knew I needed to help.”

“So that’s how you ended up as his assistant?”

His lip twitched. “I was his dad’s secretary for a while. I’m also a really good friend of Benjamin’s. He seems to think Colin needs to be coddled.”

“Benjamin, huh?”

“You have remarkable eyes,” Brandon said suddenly.

“Thanks.” She took a sip of the water brought by the waiter, and looked up again when she heard him laugh. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“How long have you been married?” she asked, eyeing his wedding band.

“Two years,” he responded, smiling.

“Cool. What does your wife do?”

“Personal stylist.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s a word-of-mouth business. She’s gotten a lot of her aunt’s old clients though, so she’s had luck in that department. And she used to work at Barney’s, so she has a lot of people from there.”

“So she just works from home now?”

He nodded, running his fingers through his slicked back hair. “Basically.”

“It sounds nice. No kids?”

“God, no.”

Amara laughed at his answer. “I’m assuming you don’t want any?”

“Not for a while. I mean, I love kids, don’t get me wrong, but I have nephews and they’re a freaking handful. Besides, Chloe wants to wait until she’s older.”

“How old is she?”

“Twenty-four.”

Amara pursed her lips slightly.

“I’m thirty-two,” he said.

“Well, I don’t blame her for wanting to wait.”

“What about you? No boyfriend?”

“Nope.” She averted her eyes and looked at the waiter, who was weaving his way through the tables with their plates.

“No kids?”

Amara laughed. “Definitely not.”

“Don’t want any?”

“I want them, just not out of wedlock. My mom would kill me.”

Brandon smiled and nodded. He had a wide, toothy smile, but it was nice and warm. “You’re close to her?”

“Very,” she said before taking a bite of her curry shrimp.