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

  “Who is Mr. Underwood?” Amara asked, hoping her voice was filled with nonchalant curiosity.

  “He’s one of Mr. Wolfe’s assistants. The large accounts go through him.”

  “What’s his name?” she asked, despite herself.

  Lisbeth stopped walking and turned to her, confused. “Excuse me?”

  “Mr. Underwood. What’s his name?”

  Flashes of the name Nolan Underwood invaded her mind. Amara held her breath in anticipation of Lisbeth’s answer, nervous sweat beaded along her spine and began to trickle.

  “Brandon…” The brunette said, her brows crinkling. “Do you know him?”

  Amara shook her head lightly and cleared her throat. “Nope. Just sounded familiar.”

  Lisbeth shrugged and turned back around, pointing at the desk in the center of the room. “This is your desk.”

  “That would be correct,” she heard Colin say behind them. Amara closed her eyes momentarily, until the heat that his voice produced began to wash away. “I’ll take it from here, Liz. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Mr. Wolfe,” Lisbeth responded as she walked back to the elevator. “Let me know if you want to do lunch, Amara.”

  “I will. Thank you.” Amara smiled, occupying herself with watching Lisbeth exit the room, not wanting to meet Colin’s gaze.

  “Perhaps another day, Liz. Amara needs to accompany me to my lunch meeting today at twelve. Please remind me fifteen minutes prior.”

  “Sure thing.”

  The elevator closed, and Amara finally allowed herself to look at Colin. He was running his tongue between his teeth as his eyes drew her body slowly, so slowly she almost overheated from the heat in his gaze.

  “You look…” He cleared his throat. “Very professional. Let’s get started.”

  Amara frowned and shook her head. She knew what he wanted to say. She saw the desire flickering in his eyes as he looked her over, but she played his game. Pivoting, Amara swayed her hips a little more exaggerated than usual as she rounded the desk and sat in the chair. When she looked up, Colin was still standing in the same spot, handsome, as always, in his suit. It fit him as if it was made for him, hugging his strong back and arms in the exact shade of grey as Amara’s skirt. Colin’s dark gaze was glued to her as he strode over to her.

  “Did you get a chance to see my office?” he asked casually, brushing past her to enter the door on the left.

  “Nope.”

  “Well, come take a look. You’ll have to know where the files go when you bring them to me, in case I’m on the phone or not here.”

  Her heels pressed into the plush rug as she stood and followed him into the large corner office. She sauntered past him to stand at the floor-to-ceiling windows admiring the expansive view. Not only was her apartment building visible, but she could see her living room window perfectly from that angle. Interesting.

  “Beautiful view.”

  “It is,” he agreed.

  “I can’t imagine how you get any work done.”

  “I guess we’ll find out,” he said with amusement. She turned to search his face, their eyes met, conveying unspoken messages across the room…. his gaze hungry, clearly wanting to devour her. Amara’s heated and resentful … because she wanted to be devoured.

  “So, the files,” she said.

  “The files,” he repeated, as if trying to remember. He placed his hand on the right side of his desk. “I want them here. Anything I sign and that is ready to be sent out, I’ll put on this side.” He signaled the left side of his desk. “I don’t think you can fuck that up.”

  And just like that, the spell was broken once again. She was almost grateful for his rudeness to reminder her that she didn’t mean as much to him as she once did. Still, she looked away from him, back to the city, and reminded herself to breathe. This is temporary. “I think I’ll be fine. Anything else?”

  “You’ll be in charge of my schedule. You’re on call all the time, anything I need, you’ll have to take care of it.”

  On call all the time. She wondered how much he would take advantage of that. Did she care? Did she want him to? Was her being in Wolfe Industries the right move for either one of them? Samuel sent her to see Colin to begin with, and once he did, he and Philip had been unusually absent, which made her uncomfortable. How much of all of this was a set up? God, she needed answers.

  “Why am I here, Colin? You can hire a perfectly good assistant. Why me?” she asked after a long moment of brewing.

  “I shelled out a fuck load of money for you, that’s why,” he growled.

  “Why would you do that? You know I’m still bound to Méchant, right? I hope Ph—” Amara stopped herself before she could say his name. “I hope you haven’t heard otherwise.” From the way Colin’s nostrils flared, she knew he hadn’t.

  “I’m well aware of that. Being bound to Méchant makes you bound to me, Amara. I’ve been paying close attention to all things Méchant.”

  “As you should.” They stared at each other, each wanting to see the other break first. Finally, he spoke.

  “You know what I don’t understand? How is it that no direct deposit has been sent your way? No checks, no proof of payments, nothing. It’s almost as if you don’t work there at all… save for the personal documents on file.”

  “You’ve seen my file?”

  He raised an eyebrow and gave her an annoyed, duh look.

  “Can you see everybody’s file?”

  A frown clouded his face. “I’ve only had interest in one file, but I have access to all of them…” He let the words hang in the air, their suggestion submerging Amara’s thoughts. She wondered what else he could see, and if he had access to so much, wouldn’t Philip be watching him? Really watching him? Her heart began to pound, his curious gaze suddenly smothering and adding to her mounting panic as she began to back out of Colin’s office. Amara could feel his eyes on her as she whirled around and took the steps to her desk. She could only imagine what he thought about her actions—could practically hear his thoughts about her being insane. Maybe she was—maybe she was completely paranoid, but they couldn’t talk about Méchant in his office.

  Amara spent the rest of the morning juggling files. Her work at Wolfe Investments was turning out to be completely different than at PB Marketing, where she’d been in charge of a large lingerie account. Amara couldn’t imagine sorting files and answering phone calls for a living. She hated it. She spent one hour just fixing Colin’s schedule around to include all of his meetings—work and personal. The longer she did that, the more she disliked him. It was almost as if he was trying to smear his shitty upcoming nuptials in her face by making her call the catering company and change the menu from fish to steak.

  At the sound of the elevator chime, Amara looked up from her desk to see a tall blond man wearing a black suit enter the lobby. He had laugh lines around his grinning mouth and near the edges of his bright blue eyes. She guessed he was in his mid to late thirties.

  “Hi. We haven’t formally met, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Brandon,” he said, stopping in front of her desk.

  “Amara,” she said, clearing her throat when the words came out quieter than she’d intended. “And I’m not sure I like the fact that you’ve heard about me.”

  Brandon moved around the desk and stood next to her, lowering his head so that it was beside hers as he looked at the computer screen. His face was so close to hers that they would have touched noses had she turned her head. Amara tried not to inhale too deeply, but she could still smell the strong woodsy cologne that radiated off him. He smelled like he’d bathed in it.

  “I see you started working on the schedule,” he said, finally giving her enough breathing room to turn her face and look at him.

  “That’s my job.”

  “I know. Mr. Wolfe, Benjamin—not Colin—will be here at noon. You should probably squeeze that into the schedule.” He pointed at the screen.

  “I’ll make a note.”


  “Maybe we can go to lunch and get to know each other while they’re in their meeting.”

  She opened her mouth to respond but Colin’s voice coming from his doorway made them both snap their heads in that direction.

  “Brandon. My office,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

  “Yes, sir,” Brandon responded. “See you later,” he said, gesturing his hand in a salute as he strode off.

  She nodded and let out a heavy breath as she continued her work, uninterrupted, until Colin stepped out of his office to stand beside her desk.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  She frowned, looking at the time. “Where?”

  “Lunch meeting.”

  “I…your uncle is coming in like ten minutes.”

  “Not anymore. Call him and reschedule.”

  “I can’t just call him and cancel the meeting. I don’t even know where to call!”

  “Look it up. I’ll wait,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the edge of her desk.

  “He’s your uncle!” she said.

  “And you’re my assistant,” he said, shrugging. Unnerved under his scrutiny, Amara busied herself by looking through the contacts on her desktop. “Maybe if you weren’t doodling little guns, you would have checked your email and seen what I sent you.”

  Amara looked down at her desk, face flushed. She’d been drawing images of guns earlier, when she was thinking about how much she wanted to kill Colin, and Philip, and her dad, and possibly Brandon, just for being around. She picked up the phone receiver without looking back at him and began to dial.

  “Are you planning a homicide? Because you may want to re-consider your weapon of choice,” Colin said. She could hear the smile in his voice, but refused to look at him.

  “Hi, this is Amara calling from Wolfe Investments. I just wanted to let Mr. Wolfe know that Colin won’t be able to attend the meeting they have scheduled…”

  Once that was settled, she hung up, checked her email and the new add-ons to the schedule he’d sent her, and finally looked at him. “Done.”

  “Good. Grab your purse. We may be gone a while.”

  “Is Brandon going too?” she asked as they reached the elevators.

  Colin’s jaw clenched as he stared at the elevator doors.

  “Would you like that?” he asked.

  “I don’t care either way, I was just wondering if we were waiting for him.”

  Colin’s eyes cut to hers. “We’re not waiting for anybody.”

  “Okay then.”

  They entered the elevator and he slid his card in while punching the button to the garage. The atmosphere was tense, neither looking at the other, both mutely focused on the doors in front of them.

  “What was he telling you when he got here?” Colin asked, breaking the silence.

  “Nothing, just introducing himself.”

  “Hm. You were standing pretty close to each other when I stepped out of my office.”

  Amara’s lip twitched as she heard the jealousy in his voice. “We were,” she said. She turned to face him and took a step closer to him. “Did that bother you?”

  Unexpected turmoil swam in his eyes. “Would it make a difference if it did?”

  Colin continued to look at her in silence, his eyes imploring her to answer, but Amara could only stare back. His face inched closer to hers, and she allowed herself to lean forward to meet him. Heat began to crackle between them once again. They were enveloped in a bubble where nobody else existed, until the elevator doors opened, breaking them, and the moment, apart instantly.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say,” Amara said, as she stepped out of the elevator.

  “I don’t either,” Colin muttered under his breath as he walked beside her.

  The lights of a two-door, black luxury car beamed as Colin unlocked it. Amara looked at the car and then back at Colin. It was completely different from the big SUV he used to own.

  “What happened to your truck?” she asked as she slipped onto the buttery leather of the seat.

  Colin closed her door and rounded the vehicle, settling into the driver’s seat. He turned to her.

  “I got rid of it.”

  “You loved that truck.”

  “I loved a lot of things.”

  Amara felt her chest closing in on her as she looked at him. Loved. Past tense. When would it stop hurting? When would his words stop feeling like they were prying her open? She looked away from him, focusing on the dashboard in front of her.

  “Where is the lunch meeting?”

  Colin sighed beside her and began to drive.

  “How many people did you have sex with at Méchant?” Colin asked as they stopped at a red light.

  Amara’s heart lurched. She was surprised he hadn’t asked her that question before. She exhaled. “Two.”

  “Not including me?”

  She nodded and looked out the passenger window.

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  She turned her head to look at him. “No.”

  Colin shook his head, unsure of what to think anymore.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Amara said.

  He shrugged one shoulder.

  “Why did you come for me?”

  He exhaled heavily. “Because I’m stupid. Because I’m selfish. Because I had to.”

  “Because you had to?” she whispered, trying to ignore the sudden bubbles of happiness floating inside her belly.

  His eyes cut to her, and her heart sped up. “You thought I could just leave you there, Amara? I’m holding out hope that you got yourself into such deep shit because you had to and not because you wanted to be there… I figured if I talked to you, or if I saw you again, or if I got you out… I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. Mostly, I wanted you out for selfish reasons…”

  When he didn’t finish his statement, she cleared her throat and spoke up. “Is that all?”

  Colin smiled, though it wasn’t a warm one. “Is it ever?”

  “So what’s the real reason then? If it’s not because you wanted to be my knight in shining armor.”

  He stayed quiet for a moment, weaving through traffic. “I don’t trust you enough to tell you.”

  She should have expected those words, that sentiment, but it still stung.

  “You used to trust me with everything.”

  “And then you lied. And left.”

  “You knew I had to go.”

  “I did.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever forgive me for not telling you the whole truth?” Her question was quiet and hung between them for a silent minute.

  “You know what bothers me the most?” Colin said, ignoring her question as he turned into the parking lot of an apartment building. “It’s not that you left—I get why you left. It’s not even the whole thing with Méchant, because if I try really hard, I can understand why you did that. What kills me, Amara, is that you didn’t tell me in New Orleans. I asked you, and you completely sidestepped. You could have told me then. You could have asked me for help. You could have—”

  “Agreed to marry you,” she said, surprised she could get the words out so easily.

  His eyes flashed to hers as he parked the car. “Not what I was going to say, but that could have helped.”

  Amara let out a harsh breath and let her head thud against the seat. She collected her thoughts as she waited for Colin to come around the car and open the door for her.

  “Are you jealous of Molly?” Colin asked, smirking, as he held the door of the building open for her, noting the way she was still silently brewing.

  She stopped walking and pivoted to face him. “You have no idea.”

  It was the most honest thing she could have said, and she could tell Colin was shocked by it. He grinned at her, his brown eyes twinkling as he lifted her chin with two fingers. “Good.”

  He dropped his hand and continued walking.

  “Where are we, anyway? Is there a restaurant in here?�
�� she asked, looking around the luxurious lobby of the apartment building.

  “My house, and no there’s no restaurant here. I have to pick up some files before we head to the meeting.”

  Amara fished out her phone as she followed him to the elevator. “We’re going to be late. The meeting is in twenty minutes.”

  Colin pushed the button. “They can wait.”

  “When did you move here?”

  “A couple of months ago.”

  “Park Avenue wasn’t doing it for you?” she asked jokingly.

  “The memories weren’t.”

  The blame in his eyes cut her, but Amara refused to apologize.

  IT HAD BEEN a long day at the hospital again. Any free time Amara had, she spent it beside her mother, who seemed to be doing worse every day. Every time she was on the cusp of getting better, she caught the flu, which lowered her white blood cell count tremendously. The thought of going back and staying the night with her at the hospital was nagging at Amara as she walked through the long corridor of the penthouse. Leaning against the wall to slip off her heels, a clattering sound resonated from the kitchen, stilling her movements.

  “Hello?” she called out, not knowing what else to say. Her eyes scanned the room as she looked for something to use as a weapon. Not seeing anything else, she grabbed an umbrella she’d propped into a corner. The duck on the handle didn’t do much to build confidence in her weapon, but at least she had something. Amara began to walk slowly toward the kitchen, her grip closed tightly around the wooden handle. Her breath was so loud in her ears, it seemed to drown out any sounds from her uninvited guest.

  She raised the umbrella to click on the kitchen light, but as soon as the tip hit the panel, a hand tugged on it. Amara shrieked but managed to keep her hold on the umbrella. With the lights on, she found herself staring into Philip’s eyes as she screamed.

  “You may want to keep it down,” Philip said, amused.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Philip took the umbrella from her hand and placed it on the counter. “Reminding you that you can’t wipe your hands clean of me.”