"You okay?"
She wiggled, then her teeth snapped and she grabbed her left arm below the shoulder. "Sonofabit-"
A shuffle sounded above them.
He glanced up. Bob stood halfway down the next flight of stairs, hand on the railing. Frozen there-the cowardly damn snake.
He lay her down and set his phone beside her.
"Call an ambulance, baby."
Charlie's gaze followed his up to the stairs, and the way her top lip curled up told him all he needed to know.
"After that Mark's number is programmed into my cell."
"Got it," Charlie said, and reached for the phone.
Bob, glanced back and forth between them. Was the bastard confused by the civility of their tones?
Connor stepped up.
Bob sprung to life, turning around to scramble upwards. The old asshole could go ahead and run.
Maybe the head start would give Connor a chance to calm down.
Unlikely.
Adrenaline burst through his limbs. He took the stairs in twos.
Very fucking unlikely.
SEVENTEEN
Frank's movements slowed when she entered his office.
"I guess I should congratulate you."
Charlie lowered herself onto the chair opposite his desk, her body still wracked with aches and pains from the day before.
He set a small antique clock into a cardboard box.
"What are you doing, Uncle Frank?"
"Going to pretend you're not going to fire me?" He turned, eyeing her in the chair. "Or would it be more satisfying to demote me to janitor?"
"Oh, it'd be satisfying alright." Her brow kicked up. "But like I've said before, we're not, and should never have been, enemies. I only want what's best for Halifax."
He seemed to age all of a sudden, his face scrunching and every wrinkle coming into play.
"And that isn't a CEO who's so focused on staying on top, that he missed what's happening right under his ignorant nose." He slipped into his chair. "If I wasn't so afraid of losing everything, I'd have seen the signs for myself. Questioned more … "
She frowned. Frank apologetic? It didn't bring her the vindication she'd craved. "No, they hid it well."
She'd seen his face when she'd called the meeting, and Andy had read out his findings. When she'd revealed Bob's arrest, and told the board about her assault. He'd been devastated. Not the superficial kind you get from defeat. The deep kind that comes from having something you love violated. The way Halifax had been violated by Bob. The color had leached from him, even the silver in his hair seemed more metallic.
"All this time you were right." He leaned back. "I never gave you enough credit."
"No you didn't." She smoothed her skirt. Her bruised shoulder pinched. "But I'm hoping that can change."
His frown leveled out. "You want to keep me on?"
She nodded. "Despite the way you've tried to keep me out, I do."
"As CEO?" His entire body seemed to still.
"For now, if we can work together."
A query edged into his frown. "And you're happy to remain as president?"
"Nope." She smiled. "You'll be working with Melanie while she takes on the role of president."
"Melanie?" He tapped the arm of the chair.
"Well she is amazing." She scanned his expression. Maybe this time she'd given the wrong amount of credit-too much. "She's also the most educated employee we have, and from a PR perspective the best person to manage repairing out reputation."
His gaze narrowed on Charlie. "And you?"
"I'll be assisting Melanie with the transition and leading the planning committee for the next three months as we clean up the mess."
"And then?"
"And then we review." She rocked forward. "You've got three months, Uncle, to prove you can do this right or I'll put Melanie in charge."
Frank's chin drew up, his eyes narrowed in challenge. "I accept."
"I'm glad we can finally agree on something." She rose from the chair. "By the way, we can consider step one achieved. I have Jives Tech back on board."
She couldn't help grinning.
Frank shook his head, not in denial, and dammit if it didn't actually look something like pride. "Very good, Charlie."
She smiled wider. About freaking time. But belated or not, she'd take the praise. "Thanks."
"There's still one thing I don't understand, where do you really fit in all this?" His question came softer than was his usual. "Long term?"
She smiled. "Someone once suggested I discover my true passions."
"Well it's official, my first day without hate mail." She set her bag down on the kitchen counter, not wanting to turn to the man behind her. "Now I've stepped down as president, I guess I'm off the hook."
And out of need of a bodyguard.
His footsteps thumped behind her, deep and heavy and sending matching beats into her bloodstream.
"You won't be protecting me anymore." She let that rush out. Because he needed to move on from watching her. Needed to get back to his business.
And she'd gotten so used to the security of having him.
"That's where you're wrong." His breath warmed the back of her hair. "I always protect my family..."
The ground seemed to tilt.
"Family?" She spun around.
He looked at her. That one expression, eyes storming with emotion beneath scrunched brows, lips pressed together as if he feared what they might say, told her more than his words had.
Words like love are easy, lazy … she'd heard them before. They can be empty, hollow sounds or mean one thing to one person and something else to another. But that look, that raw, pregnant need that exposed a yearning that seemed to say, "Here, take my heart". There was no mistaking that kind of look.
The room filled with the sound of their breathing, growing faster. She had no idea what her expression said back to him, but his body pressed against hers, his arms circled her waist and the heat from his body surrounded her. His mouth slanted over her lips. His tongue lashed and she met its thrusts, letting him lead. She tasted the need on that kiss, felt his desire in his shaking breath and the hands that roamed over her desperately. The kitchen counter knocked against the small of her back. Then his lips left hers. She tried to pull him back but his knees hit the ground with a thud that shook the floor under her heels.
He drew her dress around her waist with a sweep of his hands-his fingers hooked in her panties and tugged them over the swell of her hips. Her pussy tingled, squeezed tight between her closed legs. His mouth followed the urgent path of his hands, teeth scraping along one sensitive thigh. She jerked against the counter, trying to spread her legs, widen them to show him what she wanted but her panties held them closed. His thumbs dug into her thighs just below her cheeks, kneading. He tore her panties off.
Then he was up, against her, and all she could was grab him and hold on. Sharp jolts of desire batted her insides, seized her lungs, flooded her pussy. She tore open his pants. He grabbed her leg, hauling it around his hip, and drove against her slick entrance.
Air flooded her lungs as he stretched her, filled her with the sweetest sting. He thrust deep, pumped hard. Each thrust stoked the pleasurable fire building in her core. He took her without restraint, using irregular, out-of-control movements. She bucked into him, needing more, needing all of him.
He leaned over her, pulled her against him. His lips pressed into the curve of her neck. Heat flooded her face, her eyes squeezed close, the pressure built. Slapping thighs, driving cock and the tremble of his breath against the sensitive skin on her throat, a tsunami of sensation.
"Say it," he whispered.
She didn't think, knew what he needed to hear.
"I love you, Connor," she cried.
His whole body tensed along her. He bucked, squeezing her tight. "I fucking love you, Charlie."
He rocked against her. Inside her his shaft tightened and swelled, pushed her so close to ecstasy it burned. He tugged out of her, cumming against her thigh. The breaths against her neck slowed. Her pussy clutched on nothing, needing him back. He released her slowly, giving her a chance to balance on her own feet.
He unbuttoned her blouse and, tossed it to the ground then trailed his hands over her shoulders. The clasp on her bra snapped and a split-second later he tossed that too. She rubbed her sore nipples-so tight they hurt. He undid the zipper on her skirt letting it fall to the floor. His palms ran over her like salve over a burn. Her skin ached, needed, wanted.
He knelt once more. His lips pressed against her tummy. His stubble grazed a path over her abdomen. She leaned against the counter and gazed down at him. Connor on his knees in front of her, kissing the swell of her belly as if it was the most beautiful thing on Earth. She hadn't thought it possible to be more turned on but that sight nearly brought her undone.
He looked up at her and she saw what he was doing in the stormy blue of his eyes. Connor flicked the buttons, revealing his perfect male skin inch by inch. He tugged off the shirt and threw it aside. Fucking perfection. Her pulse doubled. She drew up a knee and hooked it over his shoulder. His gaze focused on her pussy and he grabbed her hip, drew her to his mouth.