The Sinner's Bargain (Contracts & Deceptions #2) (6 page)

He smiled again, looking like he was holding back laughter again.

“Are you always this smiley?” she asked, finally, setting her fork down.

Brandon laughed outright and set his own utensils down as well. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m laughing at you or anything.”

“What am I supposed to think when you’re sitting here laughing while I’m eating? Things like this make women develop eating disorders!”

“Oh no! Oh no, no, no,” he said apologetically, waving his hands. “I swear I’m not laughing at you. It’s just… you’re so different than Molly. Like, night and day. It’s weird.”

She felt her stomach beginning to sour at the mention of Molly’s name. “Oh,” she said, her voice was low, almost a whisper. “What is she like?”

He cocked his head a little, seemingly weighing something out. “You really want to know?”

Did she really want to know? Not really, no, she told herself. But at the same time, very much so. She wanted Colin back, so as far as she was concerned, Amara may as well know her enemy. She didn’t have much to lose at this point, not from where she sat anyway. She placed her elbows on the table and leaned in.

“I need to know what I’m up against, right?” she said with a glint in her eyes.

Brandon smiled broadly. “Well, in that case, she’s snotty and more than a little annoying because she has a nasally voice. She’s bossy, but she’s also unexpectedly kind. She’s a hard worker, and she’s pretty.”

Nodding, Amara sat back in her chair and took a sip of wine. In that case, she wondered if that was why Benjamin was such a fan of Molly— because she was a hard worker.

“What are you thinking?”

“I hate nasally voices.”

His shrugging laughter made her smile.

AMARA RECEIVED A text message that rattled her out of her slumber, and checked it as she wiped her eyes, huffing when she saw it was from Colin and had nothing to do with work.

Colin: What are you doing Friday night?

Amara: Working.

Colin: ….

Amara: ….

Colin: ELABORATE.

Amara: If you must know, it has nothing to do with Wolfe Ind.

Colin: Tell me something I DON’T know. Working at Méchant?

Amara: Yes.

Colin: Who told you to go there?

Amara: It’s in my contract.

Colin: I want that “contract” on my desk by 9:30am tomorrow.

The next morning, Amara did as she was told and dropped the contract she’d signed with Philip on Colin’s desk. At that point, what did it matter? Her eyes stayed glued to his desk for a long moment to gather her thoughts before moving around his office. She needed to figure out where he kept his business files. She needed to find out how to get into all things Méchant.

Walking behind his desk, she opened a few drawers. Finding nothing, she crouched down and looked beneath the desk, and as she crouched, the door opened. Amara gasped softly; the idea of getting caught making her heart pound. Still, she stood and brushed off her skirt.

“Find what you were looking for?” Colin asked. Only then she dared look up at him. Amara didn’t answer at first, just gave him a confused look.

“My pen fell.” It was stupid, yet the only thing she could come up with.

He chuckled, leaning back on the now closed door. He was wearing one of his lighter suits, a brown-toned pattern that matched his eyes and highlighted them under those ridiculously long lashes of his. He still hadn’t shaved the scruff of a beard he’d been sporting as of late, and it pronounced the tightness of his jaw when he looked away from her toward the window.

“You remember that guy you dated in high school? He was on the Rugby team… what was his name…” his words became soft as his thoughts trailed off.

“Tom,” Amara said.

“Tom,” Colin repeated, a smile spreading over his face as he turned toward her. The smile made her heart jump because it wasn’t his sweet smile, but neither was it his seductive smile. It was his “I know you’re full of shit, and I’m about to prove it smile.” She clamped her jaws together and began grinding her teeth in what was rapidly becoming an annoying, painful habit. His chuckle enraged her. She had no idea where he was going with this, and she didn’t like it. “You’re starting to look uncomfortable back there. You want to take a seat in my chair while I finish my story?”

She opened her mouth and closed it. Her heart could feel the jabs of his words, as if he was reaching in and poking her repeatedly. Nonetheless, she sat, desperate to know what his point was, even though she dreaded the answer. Colin’s eyes roamed over his desk, over her, and a wider smile spread on his face as he shook his head.

“Can you please get to it? I have work to do, and you’re acting weird.”

He pushed off the door and took a seat in front of her, folding his hands over the table. “This is a good change of pace, right?”

“Colin…” she prompted.

“When was the last time you played chess?” he asked, leaning back in the chair and crossing his ankles.

Her brows furrowed. “Chess? I don’t know. Why?”

“You used to be good at it,” he said, shrugging.

“Is there a point to this?”

“There’s a point to everything. Wouldn’t you say? Even the things that seem insignificant prove to have a point.”

“Okay, so what’s yours?”

Colin cocked his head and smiled at her, lopsidedly, his eyes trained on her lips as she licked them. “Sometimes life is like a game of chess—the player has his eyes set on the king and on the checkmate he’s dying to attain—so who does he set his eyes on? What is his target, usually?”

Amara hated the way her stomach was knotting up, but she swallowed down her trepidation and answered anyway. “The queen.”

“Come here, I wanna tell you a secret,” he whispered, placing his elbows on the desk and leaning in. She mimicked his stance, leaning in until their faces were only a breath apart. “You’re right,” he said, his minty words tickling over her face, not helping her body’s coiling reaction to his proximity. “The queen is the most important piece on that board. She has the power to slay everybody, any way she wants. The game always looks more promising when your queen is there, but sometimes she’s taken, and you have to depend on whatever pieces of the court are left. Maybe you have a bishop and a rook and you can get far with those you’re your knight…, but still, you don’t have the sense of security that queen gives you.” The gaze in his eyes was so intense she could make out the perfect lines of dark brown that etched the lighter shade of his pupil. She didn’t dare look away from him. He leaned closer then, the side of his face grazing hers, the little hairs on his face making her shiver helplessly and the low chuckle that followed—right beside her ear—causing that shiver to turn into two. “So you see, Mara, some people think they can target my queen. Take her from me. Do with her as they wish. They think I’ll just stand back with my dick tucked between my legs and watch them treat her like a puppet.” He inched even closer, his cologne making her head spin. His words were low, husky, said in the voice he’d used countless times to ground out her name when he was thrusting inside her. She could practically feel him sliding against her, his breath over her as she panted beneath him. Her nipples tightened at the visual in her head as she remembered scraping her nails against his muscled back. “But my girl isn’t a puppet, Mara, she’s a motherfucking queen.”

“Queens do what they have to,” she responded in a whisper against his ear, wishing she could just bite it, pull the lobe between her teeth gently. Still she held off as she tried to play his game.

His nose brushed against her jaw, skimming lightly beneath her ear and continued to glide over her face until he reached her chin. He pulled back a little until they were nose to nose again, their eyes searching the other’s. “Queens do what they have to do for the people they love,” he said, it was a correction.

Amara agreed, the tip of her nose rubbing his as she nodded.

“It’s taking all of the restraint I have right now to not kiss you,” he said, his breath fluttering over her parted lips. Unable to resist any longer, she leaned in closer, with every intention of locking her mouth to his, but Colin pulled back. He sat back in his chair leaving her with half of her body over his desk. Her fitted, white blouse was open enough that it afforded Colin a perfect view of her cleavage as she leaned toward him. His eyes blazed as they trailed over her form, from her cleavage to the dip of her back and what he could see of her ass in the black knee-length skirt she wore.

“I wish I had a mirror behind my desk right now,” he said, his eyes flashing back to hers.

A short laugh escaped Amara as she pushed herself up from his desk, popping open the top button of her blouse. She smiled when his eyes snapped from her eyes to her shirt and, with a knowing look, she began to undo the rest of the buttons. One by one, the buttons were freed, Colin watching intently, his chest expanding and contracting heavily as more flesh was exposed. His hands clutched the edge of his mahogany desk, as if it was the only thing keeping him from touching her. Amara let the white lace bra she was wearing peek out to tantalize him before she began the process of slowly buttoning her blouse back up, all the while keeping her gaze locked on his.

“So, who are you playing chess against?” Amara asked as she looped the last button in place.

Colin swallowed. “You tell me.”

She smiled and shook her head while rounding the desk to stop in front of him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His hand grabbed hers as she turned to walk toward the door and her face snapped to his in question. “Tom,” he said. “When you were dating, he asked you to homecoming, but you already knew you wanted to break up with him because you thought he was cheating on you, so you made up some bullshit excuse right there on the spot as to why you couldn’t go to prom.”

“What’s your point?” she asked, taking her hand back. She remembered joking with Colin about going with him and his date and how cool everybody would think he was if he showed up with two girls.

He pushed his chair back and stood. They were so close that the heat radiating off of their bodies was an inferno; the chemistry that crackled between them was way past the point of being sparks, it had turned into a pit of lava. They were submerged, and neither wanted to surface. Amara craned her head slightly to meet his eyes.

“My point is, I know when you’re lying. If you’re going to try to screw me over, at least do it on your own watch, not when I’m paying you to do a job for me—a legal job for me, on top of the one I already bailed you out of.” His words cut deep. She felt disgusted and ashamed. Was she really doing this? To Colin, of all people? What had she become?

Amara didn’t respond. She turned away from him and let her feet guide her to the door. She paused, her hand on the doorknob as she asked, “Did Philip know you were Nolan all along?”

She felt him as he moved to stand behind her. His breath whispered over her ear as he leaned closer, causing goose bumps to erupt over her skin. “There are few things I love more than people who think they can’t be outsmarted, like Philip. He figured it out at some point, but by then it was too late, I was already
in
. The way he emphasized the word with that rasp in his voice made Amara’s heart skip. She swallowed loudly, her grip on the doorknob so firm that her knuckles were white. Colin pressed his chest to her back so that she could feel the length of him. “And for the record, Amara, you may want to figure out what side of the board you’re on, because there’s always a loser, and you may not want to be on that side when I figure out how to tear Philip’s companies apart.”

Amara bit her lip to keep from coming undone. Her voice was quiet when she was composed enough to use it. “Are we finished?”

“Not nearly finished, but you can go now.”

As she opened the door, Amara didn’t have to turn around to confirm that a smile painted his lips; she had heard it in his voice. When did he become such a bastard?

“YOU BROUGHT MY doughnuts!” The excitement in her mother’s voice broke Amara’s heart a little.