True Colours:The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 2(38)

'But  … '

I continue to walk, and if the Terminator wants to follow me, that's  fine. At least, he won't be able to forewarn the control freak of my  imminent ambush. It doesn't take long for me to reach the headquarters  of Fosters Construction. As soon as I'm through the main door, I stride  purposefully towards the lifts, determined that nobody's going to stop  me.

'I'll be five minutes,' I tell Spencer. 'Up and down. Wait here.'

He shakes his head.

'Five minutes. Where on Earth am I going to go?'

He shakes his head again and I make my decision. I really don't want to  be a complete shit, but considering the current situation, it seems to  be the only option.

'If you don't stay here,' I hiss, 'I'll have you sacked.'

His chin tightens.

'Five minutes,' I repeat, thoroughly surprised when he finally agrees.

Leaving him to sweat it out in the lobby, I step into the next car,  impatiently tapping the passport against my thigh as the lift stops at  one floor after another, swallowing up employees and then coughing them  out again. Deciding that I don't have time to visit Norman, I give the  fourteenth floor a miss, waiting until the doors slide open onto the  fifteenth floor reception area. With a deep breath, I stride forwards  across the marble floor, stopping at the glass desk where Carla's busy  staring at her computer monitor. As soon as she sees me, she stands.         

     



 

'Miss Scotton.' She smiles.

I slide the passport onto the desk.

'There you go.' I smile back.

Enough said. Before she can stop me, I'm on the move again, pushing open  the oak door and barging straight into Dan's office. Standing by his  desk, he's talking on the phone, and I waver for a moment, thrown off  course by how ruddy fuckable he looks. He's jacketless now, and that  waistcoat really accentuates his trim hips. 'No, no, no!' a voice  screeches from the back of my head. 'Don't get waylaid by all that sex  stuff.'

Putting down the receiver, he opens his mouth to speak but I get in there first.

'I've had enough!' I announce.

'Enough of what?'

'Enough of you, you controlling twat!'

He casts an anxious glance at something behind me.

'I've had enough of you organising my bloody life for me,' I go on,  determined to get it all out. 'If I want messy drawers, then I'll have  messy drawers. And I've handed over my bloody passport, so you can stop  nagging me about that. And just for the record, I don't want to go on a  bloody plane. Let's just make that perfectly bloody clear. And while I'm  about it, I've had enough of you snooping on me and you are snooping on  me.' I point at him for good measure. 'And I've had enough of that big  bastard following me around everywhere I go.' I gesticulate at the open  doorway, noticing that Carla's standing in it now, looking distinctly  worried. 'If I've got to have a bloody bodyguard, I want Beefy back! At  least he's human.'

Hearing a cough, I stop mid-flow. That was a man's cough, and it  certainly didn't come out of Dan's mouth. He's staring straight past me  again, his lips set into a half-smile  …  almost apologetic. With a  building sense of dread, I pivot slowly, following the direction of his  gaze, only to find several suited types sitting around the table,  including Clive and at least four Chinese men. The blood runs cold in my  veins. A wave of nausea bubbles through my stomach. I feel a hand at  the small of my back.

'I'm so sorry, Mr Sun,' Dan says.

The eldest of the Chinese men rises to his feet.

'This is Mr Sun, Maya. He's an important client. We're just putting the  finishing touches to a three point two billion pound deal.'

I hear the words slip out of my mouth. 'Oh shit.'

Mr Sun approaches me.

'And you are?' he asks in a perfect English accent.

'Maya Scotton,' Dan interrupts. 'My fiancée.'

Suddenly forgetting the fact that I've just stormed right into the middle of a meeting, I swivel round to face Dan.

'I beg your pardon?'

'The future Mrs Foster,' he continues. Smiling fondly, he slides a hand  around my waist and touches me gently on the end of my nose. I shake my  head away. 'She's a little irritated with me right now  –  for various  reasons  –  but on a good day I can assure you that she's the most  delightful young woman you're ever likely to meet. She's an artist.'

'Is she now?' Mr Sun asks. A wrinkled hand is thrust towards me.  'Pleased to meet you, Maya Scotton.' His eyes crease into a smile. 'And  congratulations. When is the happy day?'

'There isn't one,' I answer quickly.

I'm about to ask Dan what the hell he thinks he's playing at when he intervenes again.

'What she means is that we haven't set the date yet, but I'd say before Christmas.'

'What?' My mouth is wide open now. 'What are you going on about?'

He doesn't answer. Instead, he begins to manoeuvre me towards the door.

'I'll just escort her out.'

'Excuse me? Marriage?' I turn back to Mr Sun, deciding that this is the  moment to put a spanner in the works. 'He hasn't even told me he loves  me yet.'

I spot a hint of surprise in Mr Sun's eyes.

'Oh no. That is a bloody bad show,' he laughs. 'That's simply not cricket.'

And now it's Dan's turn to stare open-mouthed at Mr Sun.

'They're a basic requirement of a good marriage, Dan.' Mr Sun crosses  his arms. 'Those three little words. I tell my wife I love her every  day.' Uncrossing his arms, Mr Sun presses on. 'If I were you, I'd tell  her now. Go on. We've covered the basics. I can talk to Clive a little  more about the details.'

Clearing his throat, Dan looks at me, and if I'm not very much mistaken  there's a hint of a threat in that look. 'If you don't mind, I'll be a  few minutes.'         

     



 

'Of course I don't mind.' Mr Sun smiles. 'You must keep your fiancée happy.'

'I'm not his ...'

I catch a glimpse of Clive. He's grinning from ear to ear. Before I can  squeeze out the final word, my hand is grasped and I'm dragged out of  the office.

'More coffee in there, Carla,' Dan barks, hauling me to the lift and  punching the call button. He tugs me in, letting go of my hand as the  doors slide to a close.

'Fiancée?' I spit. 'Where did that come from?'

He hits another button. The lift judders to a halt.

'Oh, I don't know. A mad fiancée seemed to be slightly less embarrassing than a mad girlfriend.'

'What are you doing?'

He says nothing. Instead, he simply takes out his mobile and calls up a  contact. I hear a muffled voice at the other end of the line.

'Dave, lift number two is out of action. Leave it that way.'

He ends the call, immediately making another. Glaring at me, he listens to the dialling tone.

'Where's your bodyguard?' he demands. 'He's not answering his phone.'

'That's because I threw it in the river.'

He frowns.

'To stop you snooping on me,' I explain.

He opens his mouth.

'But don't worry. He's down in the lobby.'

'You are a fucking piece of work, Maya.'

'Thank you.'

He drops the mobile back into his pocket and glares at me some more.

'You're angry with me again,' I venture.

'No shit.'

Taking a step forwards, he rams me against the wall, grabs my hands and pins them back.

'Now let's get a few things straight here.'

I'm expecting a good talking to, but that's not what I get. Instead, he covers my lips with his, and kisses me for an age.

'You have a bodyguard for a reason,' he growls when he's done. 'I'm not going over that again.'

'I feel trapped.'

'It's a temporary measure. I want you protected until I've dealt with Boyd.'

Dealt with? What the hell's he going on about now?

'You wouldn't  … '

He picks up on my train of thought and derails it.

'Relax. I'm not the Godfather. I'm the CEO of a fucking building  company. I don't go around cementing my enemies into the foundations,  but I don't let them walk all over me either, especially when it comes  to the things I value in my life. I know you hate feeling hemmed in.  What we need is a few days away from this shit. I need it. You need it. A  taste of things to come.' His eyes soften. He reaches down and  unbuttons my combats. They drop to the floor. 'Talking of which  … '

Slipping his fingers into the top of my knickers, he tears them away.

'Not again,' I groan. 'I'll have no underwear left.'

'I'll buy you plenty more.'

He presses a hand against my clit, sending a pulse of warmth right through my vagina.

'You're not winning me round with a good fuck.'

'That's not my intention. Legs apart.'

I groan, kick off my combats and simply do as I'm told. Immediately, a  single finger slides further between my legs and enters me, pushing  deep, finding my g-spot and massaging it. I bang my head back against  the lift wall and draw in a breath. I'm done for now.

'You've given me the mother of all stonkers, woman. I can't go back into the meeting like this.'

Withdrawing the finger and releasing me, he unzips his trousers and  reveals his cock. True to his word, he's completely ready, fully erect.

'I don't need to win you round.' Grabbing hold of my right thigh, he  urges my leg up to his waist and guides himself into me, readjusting his  position until he's happy. Holding my leg in place, he snakes his free  arm round my back. 'You're mine already. And that's the way it's going  to stay  …  for good.'