Three and a Half Weeks (31 page)

His elegant fingers start rubbing his temples, drawing my attention back to his battered face. I wonder if the doctors were being truthful with him when they told him he wouldn’t have scars. Ian did a serious number on him and came home with nothing more than bruised knuckles. Guess he knows how to fight and maybe even fight dirty. It’s an odd juxtaposition thinking of perfectly put together Ian getting down and dirty with a brawl. As my thoughts begin to stray from Lucien’s fantastic story, he clears his throat, bringing me back to the table.

“I’m not sure how to say this gently so I’ll just say it clearly: these men have been criminals since boyhood. They had compassion for a little boy but it didn’t change their inherent natures and so they, at heart…” he shrugs, apology in his eyes, “pretty much remain criminals. Their one redeeming quality is their absolute loyalty and devotion to me. Although I’m little over one decade younger than they are, both men treat me as if I’m their charge… and they have always had considerable affection for me.”

Okay, this
explanation is so not what I was expecting from him—not that I was expecting anything. I’m sort of riveted to his story because it sounds like fiction. And if it sounds like fiction then… Should I even consider believing him? I do want to hear the rest, especially the part that pertains to my night in hell.

Suddenly I realize I’ve forgotten about Mason—and his coffee. I look up and right into his eyes: he’s sitting at the table directly opposite me, sipping another coffee and watching me like a hawk. Shit. Well, in for a penny…

“Ella? Are you still with me?”

My eyes shift back to Lucien and I flush. “Yes. Continue, please.”

“Ian had mentioned a drug test coming up positive. Is that right?”

I press my lips together. I haven’t got the blood test results back yet. If Ian told Lucien we had, he must have been bluffing. I counter it with another question. “Why?”

A drawn-out sigh escapes from his lips. “It’s possible that my men drugged you, Ella.”

“Why would they do that, Lucien? I don’t understand.”

“Well, this is where my culpability comes in and I’m ashamed of it. I’d been complaining for a while that I could never get you alone. As soon as I met you, there was something about you—
je ne sais quoi—
that I found alluring. I wanted to get to know you beyond that of a colleague. But every single time I maneuvered an opportunity to spend time with you, Blackmon would pop up. I became exasperated. Then the last time, I might have mentioned to them—their names are Lukas and Leo—that I was finally going to have a few minutes with you alone, something that hadn’t happened since Italy, and, well, they may have tried to help out.”

“By drugging me? That’s insane, Lucien!”

Sheepishly, he shrugs. “No one ever said these guys were bright, Ella. They’re thugs. Anyway, my theory is that they slipped you a drug and you might have had a bad reaction to whatever it was they administered and began to hallucinate. That’s the only logical explanation I could come up with.”

“And where were you when all this was supposedly happening?”

He looks puzzled. “Well, initially I was there with you. The problem came later when I had an important meeting I couldn’t miss and I wasn’t expecting to have you passed out in my loft, helpless. My fath—”

“Lucien, what about the black room?”

“What about it?”

“Is it a dungeon?”

“Is it what?”

“You know, a dungeon with, uh, you kno
w, BDSM kind of things.”

“Ella, I’m not the Marquis de Sade, for God’s sake. The room is black—or was—because my ex-girlfriend had an odd sense of color. She had planned for a merlot and instead got massacre red, as I used to tease her, so she ended up painting it black to cover her mistake.”

“So no wooden pony?”

“I don’t even know what that is, Ella.”

“What about asking for my bank account information?”

“I didn’t do that either. Ella… I don’t like to flaunt it or even admit it but I have a ridiculous net worth. My father left me eighty percent of his estate. His older daughter, my half-sister, got very little and my mother got nothing, zero. I t
ake care of both of them. My mother has some of her own wealth, coming from a prominent royal family. Remember Maya? She is, in fact, my older sister and not one of my biggest fans despite my generosity with her. She blames me for my father’s ungallant behavior toward her.”

“How does Mo Jackson know you?”

“Mo Jackson? No idea. Who is she again?”

“Did you touch me, Lucien?” I lean in to whisper because I don’t want anyone to hear. “Intimately?”

Closing his eyes, he nods almost imperceptibly. “Yes, I did. I’m sorry, very sorry, Ella. I was trying to soothe you at first—you were so distressed. But then… my baser instincts took over. But I promise you that all I did was touch. Nothing more.”

“Did you take off my clothes?’

He cracks his knuckles, nervously, I think, and somberly shakes his head. “I didn’t.”

“But someone did?”

“I had a meeting with my attorney that I couldn’t miss. The way my trust funds are set up, every time I reach a milestone birthday, I get a new bank account or mutual fund portfolio. Last week I turned thirty and I had to meet with the attorney to sign some paperwork. That’s why I left you with Leo. Believe me when I say I didn’t want to, Ella. But Peter, my father’s attorney, was leaving town the next morning and I wanted to get my hands on more cash for the film distribution. My wealth isn’t liquid—not by a long shot—and I’ve been having problems raising cash for the film; there are just not enough art houses anymore. Every theater is commercial, has to be, in order to operate in black ink. So it may be up to me to make it financially profitable to show the film, even in the smaller venues.

“I was gone for less than two hours. When I left you had all your clothes on… but when I returned you were in your lingerie, under the bed covers. Leo swore he didn’t touch you except to undress you and put you in the bed. I believe him, Ella. If he’s guilty of anything, it’s probably just voyeurism.”

I clutch my temples in frustration, wishing I could remember more. “Honestly, Lucien, what I do remember, the fragments have such clarity. It’s very hard for me to accept it was all hallucinations. Someone asked me for my PIN—I’m sure of it.”

“Did you check your account? Are any monies missing?”

Looking away from him, I scowl in anger because I don’t want to answer him. I just cannot believe my mind played such tricks on me—drug or no drug.

“Well?” he prods.

“No. But then, I contacted the bank very quickly and changed everything. Why would I hallucinate such a thing? It seems far too practical a matter to be a drug hallucination.”

At that moment, Mason stands up and taps the crystal of his watch with a stern face. I nod at him. “I have to go, Lucien. I do appreciate your traveling all the way here to speak with me but it doesn’t change a single thing. Ian doesn’t want me near you and since I still don’t know exactly what transpired that day and night and likely never will, I cannot have any kind of relationship with you
going forward. I will try to convince Ian to let me release my files for the film, however.”

He swallows audibly and rises from the table. “Thank you, Ella. I truly regret this outcome, truly. All I wanted was to get to know you better and now I’ve lost you entirely. I hope that bastard Blackmon appreciates you.”

I watch him walk out of Starbucks. From the back, he’s still perfect in his well fitting cords and leather coat. I see women checking him out from behind and manage a giggle. If he turns around, won’t they have a colorful surprise?

Dressed all in black, Jonas strides into his office like a dark angel, his face beaming with a broad grin.

“Good news, I take it?”

“The best, Ian. Our friends in China have not only committed to buy out Sol Systems but also agreed to take on our shares of TES—thus, we could dump the bid on Alt-En Systems. They can get into bed with the snakes, the fuckers. We stand to make a very pretty profit plus we’re officially out of the energy business. Methinks we should stay out, too, for the foreseeable future.

Ian leans back in his chair, stretching his long legs in front of him. “Perhaps, but I hate to allow them to push me into changing my plans. Anything more on them?”

Jonas frowns and shakes his head. “No, they seem to be backing off a bit. We’ll see how they react when TES is swept away and they’re stuck with making good on their higher bid on Alt-En. I hope it sucks them dry.”

Ian snorts. “That’s not going to happen in all likelihood. But one can always hope. I’ve contracted a new security firm to do all our background checks. Our liaison with the firm is named Thomson. I’ve asked him to do an extended check on Lucien Phillips as well as Natasha Yenin. Let me know as soon as the reports come in, if I’m not in the office.”

Jonas nods. “Understood. Oh, and Ia—”

The intercom buzzes and Ian holds up a finger to silence Jonas. “What is it?” he asks brusquely, disliking interruptions.

“Mr. Blackmon, a Justin Mason is on the line for you.”

“Put him right through.” He holds his hand over the receiver. “Jonas, I have to take this call. Can we meet later today for another update?”

Jonas salutes him in military style and quickly exits the office, allowing Ian privacy with his phone call. “Mason? Blackmon here. Anything wrong?”

He hears the hesitation in Mason’s voice and immediately gets his blood up. “Mason?”

“Mr. Blackmon. After taking Ella shopping, she asked me to bring her to Starbucks where she requested I wait outside for her. She was taking a long time so I went in to check on her and found her at a table with Phillips, sir.”

“With Phillips?”
he asked, his tone incredulous.

Mason had to hold the phone away from his ear due to Blackmon’s volume. “Yes, sir.”

“That son of a bitch! Is he still there with her?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Which Starbucks, Mason?”

“The one on 5
th
Avenue?”

“I’m on my way. Try to keep him there if possible.”

“Yes, sir.”

On his way out he sees Claudia. “I’m going out for about an hour. Have Jonas update you on what’s going on with Sol Systems and we’ll meet this afternoon around four p.m. I may have to leave the office a bit early today.”

Claudia nods. “Will do, Mr. Blackmon. I’m going to follow up with Thomson to see where he is with the report on Yenin. I thought it might be worthwhile to put a tail on her, see what she’s up to.”

“Do it. I’ll be in touch soon.” The elevator appears and whisks him down to the lobby where the doorman flags down a taxi. He arrives at the Starbucks within ten minutes, just as Phillips is walking out the door. Throwing a twenty at the driver, he leaps out of the car and intercepts the man before he could get any farther away.

“In need of another beating, Phillips? Because I’m willing to oblige you—right now if you like.”

“Look, Blackmon: Ella doesn’t belong to you. She’s not one of your possessions nor are you married to her so you have no legal claim either. I have every right to speak with her and I wanted to clear the air between us. I have no intention of harming her and never did. Whatever you think happened did not. That’s all I have to say to you.”

“Listen, douche bag, I’m telling you to stay away from Ella. She is my girlfriend, soon to be my fiancée, so I have every right to make claims on her. Further, I don’t believe a single thing that comes out of your lying mouth. Are you calling Ella a liar?”

Lucien glares at him with seething hatred while Ian examines the man’s face in the daylight; he really did a good job on the bastard: dislocated jaw, broken nose, and a veritable palette of bruising. Right now, the man looks exhausted, as well.

“I’ve already had an extended conversation with Ella and did my best to explain what I think transpired the other day and night. I am now leaving and Ella has said goodbye to me, permanently, so there’s nothing for you to get upset about, Blackmon. We’re done here and I’ve achieved what I set out to do, which was to set the record straight with Ella.”

“I know you had some ulterior motive for hiring Ella, Phillips. I saw right through your phony façade. I think it all came to pass the other day and for whatever reason you thought you’d get away with it. But I have friends with abilities, fuckhead, and I found you too quickly. Foiled your plans, did I?”

Lucien sighs. “Yes, as a matter of fact, you did foil my plans… but not in the way that you think. The simple truth of the matter is that I was interested in Ella—romantically interested—and you were always getting in the way. I see now that it was never really feasible. Ella and I are parting as friends—I hope anyway. I also hope you appreciate her and treat her accordingly. If I had been fortunate enough to win the day, I would have treated her like a queen—and she’d practically be one, for if she married me, she’d become a part of a royal family, complete with title.”

He begins to walk away and then stops, turning back. “One more thing, Blackmon: go fuck yourself. You are truly an asshole.”

“You, too, Phillips. I hope you think of me every time you look in the mirror.” He smiles malevolently. God, he hates the blond bastard with a passion. Just then, the door to Starbucks opens and out spills a stream of people, all holding cups of various sizes. Bringing up the rear are Ella and Mason. Ella’s eyes widen upon seeing Ian standing there. He strides up to her, grasps her hand, and barks out a question to Mason: “Where’s the car?”

“I parked it up the block, sir. By the way, I saw you arrive through the window so I allowed him to exit.”

Ian nods. “Lead the way.”

As Mason walks ahead of them, Ella glances at Ian, trying to divine his mood but his impassive face as always is utterly inscrutable, so she waits. And waits… and still he says nothing. He just grips her hand and walks so briskly that she almost has to run to keep up with him. “Ian.”

He glances back at her, one brow raised in query but still no words.

“Are you not speaking to me?”

“Right now, Ella, I think it’s prudent if I refrain from conversation. I need to calm down first. Let’s just get to the car.”

The good news is that Ella doesn’t look intimidated, as she almost certainly would have in the very beginning of their relationship. She does, however, look a bit put out and Ian feels a knockdown, drag-out fight is almost inevitable. It’s up to him to control the situation
, and really Ella did nothing wrong except that she failed to walk away from the man the moment she saw him. But that’s not Ella’s way… she’s too ready and willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Unlike Ian.

His phone chimes and he has to release Ella’s hand to pat himself down, looking for the pocket containing his iPhone. “Blackmon.”

“Mr. Blackmon, I have news,” Claudia announces.

“Go on.”

“I just checked your appointment book for the rest of the week to schedule meetings with our Chinese friends, as well as the new security guy, Thomson.”

“And?”

“It seems that someone—I’m guessing Janine—scheduled an appointment for you with none other than Natasha Yenin. I’m not sure why she thought it acceptable. She knows appointments must go through me.” There’s dead silence on both ends, as if the call dropped but the connection is live.

After about thirty seconds, Ian finds his voice again. “When?”

“Tomorrow at four.”

The heel of Ian’s hand slaps his forehead. “What the hell is she up to? I know she’s behind all of this bullshit so why would she want to meet with me? Is it because we outplayed her?”

“I don’t know, sir. But I’m certainly not itching to see her again. Should I cancel?”

“Let me think on it, Claudia. I’m going to be back a bit later than I had originally planned. Keep me posted if anything new arises.”

“Will do. Let me know when you get back.”

He disconnects the call. Ella tugs on his hand, curiosity in her eyes. “What’s going on?” She asks the question softly, treading carefully. She obviously does not want to fight with him.

“Nothing much right now.”

“It’s interesting how you never tell me what’s going on in your life yet you always expect me to share. Why the double standard?”

Narrowing his eyes, Ian remembers he’s not speaking to her and that she’s attempting to out-manipulate him. Not going to happen, Ms. Strong. “I told you we shouldn’t speak until I get a handle on my anger, Ella. I’m not there yet. Here’s the car.”

Mason quickly opens the rear door of the Lexus and Ian places his hand on Ella’s back, firmly guiding her inside the car, and he folds his tall frame into the Lexus gracefully, sitting so close to her that he’s nearly on her lap. He wants her to feel his control right now. She’s been getting too free and easy with him and it’s going to stop today. It’s going to stop as of this minute, in this car, right now.

When Ella starts to feel closed in, she scoots over a bit and he follows very slyly. She moves again and, after waiting a few moments, he follows her. Using the seatbelt from the middle seat, he clips it on as she does her own belt. Then he moves even closer until his body is pushing hers against the side of the car.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep pushing me over on the seat. You’re making me feel claustrophobic.”

“I just want to be close to you, Ella.” He shifts his body to face her and leans his arm across her face, resting it on the side of the car next to her head. Effectively boxing her in. “Now. Explain to me what just happened with Lucien Phillips.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” she says, but her voice emerges as a strangled whisper. “He showed up at Starbucks to speak with me. I sat with him because he begged me to
give him a half hour to explain. I figured, what the hell. He couldn’t hurt me: I was in a crowded coffee shop and Mason was right outside. What’s the problem, Ian?”

“The problem, Ella, is that you don’t see there’s a problem. The problem is that you refuse to see the bad in people; you refuse to acknowledge that some people are inherently evil; you refuse to listen to me! That, my dear Ms. Strong, is the fucking problem.”

She rolls her eyes, infuriating him even more. “Mason,” he spits out angrily, “home, please. Right now.”

Mason looks at Ella
in the rearview mirror, his eyes reflecting concern, knowing he is to blame for the current situation. Still, he reports to Mr. Blackmon and if he didn’t inform him of Phillips’ presence, he would be remiss in discharging his employment obligations. She’ll probably hate him now, he knows… and distrust him. He sighs, frustrated, because he genuinely likes Ella and doesn’t want to see Blackmon shred her for being kind.

They pull up to the circular drive
of the glass house; the garage is in the rear. “Drop us in front, please. I’ll need you in an hour or two to take me back to the office.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll park the car and wait for your summons.”

Muttering under his breath that at least some people respect his wishes, he climbs out of the car, dragging Ella with him and strides to the front door.

As soon as the door closes behind them, he’s on her. He grabs a handful of her long hair and wraps it around his wrist, until it’s tight against her nape, then he pulls her head up to look at him. “You belong to me, Ariel. Do you understand?”

He can see her large blue eyes begin to reflect anxiety. He knows she doesn’t appreciate it when he gets too possessive, but, when she flagrantly ignores his wishes, he can’t help himself. He needs to keep her safe: Ella is too pretty for her own good and that makes her a target for bad people. It’s up to him to protect her since she’s too kind to be suspicious.

Ella obviously decides to take the preemptive approach. “Ian, don’t make this into a big thing, please,” her words chastise but her voice is hoarse with arousal and his cock twitches up in response. Ella may not want to admit it, but she likes to be dominated. It turns her on.

Leaning down as if he’s going to kiss her, he stops just as his lips are about to touch hers. She’s waiting for the kiss but he denies her. He knows she can feel his warm breath on her face as he takes a moment to appreciate her beauty. “Come,” he finally says and pulls her into the bedroom with his hand still clutching her hair. When they get there, he bends her over a chair and begins to remove her clothes. “You know, Ella, what caused the rupture in our relationship the last time—the whipping I gave you. I’ll never do it again because I never want to lose you… but I confess right now it’s all I can think about, pulling off my belt and laying it across your lovely little ass, turning it burning hot and striped with pink. It’s no more than you deserve.”

He sighs.
“But I’ll settle for a spanking and I want you to thank me afterward and show me how much you appreciate my concern for your welfare.”