The Billionaire's Intern. Maisey Yates
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she asked.
“Deserves to be proud of me for once. Not for my sake, but for hers.”
“Isn’t the business healthy enough for you to put someone else in charge?”
“No,” he said. “At least it wasn’t when I came back. I disappeared. My father died. And for about six months my mother had someone else in the position of CEO and things failed to improve. Then…I was rescued.” It was a strange term for what had happened to him. Because rescue, to him, implied something that was happy. And happy was never the emotion he associated with it. “Back from the dead. My mother lost her husband, but her son had returned. And I owe a debt to my family. I’ve restored what was lost. I intend to make everything stable so that they never have to worry again. So no, I can’t just go off and leave it to rot. Does that answer your questions?”
“Almost. Why do you hate the man you were?”
“Is that important?”
“I’m curious.” She looked down for a moment, then back up. “I’m curious about what it takes to change like you did.”
“I hate the man I was because he had everything and with that he did nothing.”
“So, what you’re saying is in order to change, it would really help if I hated my former self?”
“It doesn’t hurt.” He studied her expression, the unnatural neutrality of it. He wanted to see beneath it. And he had no right to that curiosity. Because it fed something in him that he knew he needed to keep hungry.
He turned away feeling suddenly restless, a current of electricity crackling between his skin and clothes making him feel constricted, confined.
“I am not your role model for change, Addison. Don’t get confused and start thinking that because this is an internship I’m here to guide you in some way. I’m doing Austin a favor, and as long as you serve my needs I will continue to do so. You are here for me. And you will follow my rules. Never tell anyone who calls that I’m available.”
“Should I be writing this down?”
He paused midstride and turned back to her. “If you think you might need to.”
She blinked. “I guess it depends on how long the list is.”
“This is not a joke, Addison, and if you think it is perhaps you should leave now.”
“I didn’t mean it as a joke. I want to do well for you. I want to do this.” For one fleeting moment the expression on her face changed a ripple of fear disturbing the stillness. But it only lasted a moment. Even so, the slight burn of triumph he felt at having unsettled her lingered long after the distress had faded from her features.
It was the first sign of weakness she’d betrayed, and for him, knowing the weaknesses of everyone around him was essential.
That had been one of his very first lessons on the island. You could be predator or prey. You could hunt or be hunted. He had chosen to hunt. And even now that he was back, it was the way he chose to live.
It occurred to him now that this was why Addison’s serenity had bothered him so much. It had made it difficult to find her vulnerability, her weakness. But he saw it now. She was afraid to lose this. And now that he knew the fear was there, he can use it.
“You’re afraid to leave,” he said.
She tilted her chin up, expression of defiance. “Not afraid,” she said. “But I would like to avoid getting harassed by the press.”
“And you’ll be safe from them here. But if you want to stay, you will follow the rules.”
Her eyes met his, her blue gaze cool. “Are you trying to intimidate me?” She stood from behind the desk, her movements smooth. “Because you realize that I spent almost all of my life sharing a residence with Jason Treffen? I get the point you’re pretty scary, Logan. But my dad was one of the bad guys.”
“Be careful, Addison,” he said, moving toward her. As he drew closer to her he felt the air thicken, could see that she felt it too, that she was struggling to pull in breath. How poetic. If it wasn’t so macabre he could have laughed. “Just because you’ve looked into the darkness doesn’t mean you’ve seen everything that’s hiding there.” As he drew closer, she tensed, her lips parting, the action sending a slug of desire down to his gut. “Just because I’m not one of bad guys doesn’t mean I’m one of the good guys.”
Chapter Four
Addison woke up with the sheets tangled around her legs, sweat making them stick to her skin. That was when she realized she was naked. She must have stripped her clothes off in her sleep. She’d been doing that lately. As her nightmares worsened, heat and the fires of hell closing in, she started removing layers.
She opened her eyes and looked around. The room was unfamiliar and for a second she was seized by pure terror, making her freeze, turning her breath into a solid ball that rested in the center of her chest.
The thoughts that raced through her head, fears that had been gnawing at her for weeks, flashed bright and fast. Had she been sold? One of her father’s men? Was someone going assault her?
And in a split second, the fog cleared. And she realized where she was.
Logan’s hotel. Where she was staying for her internship. Logan’s hotel that was safe. Well, assuming the man himself was safe.
She wasn’t certain yet that she could assume that. At this point in her life she didn’t think she could assume anything.
She started shaking, her entire body trembling as she extracted herself from her sheets and padded toward the shower, letting the hot spray wash the sweat and stale terror from her skin.
She performed the rest of her routine like a zombie. Applying makeup thoughtlessly, with a practiced skill her mother had helped her hone from the time she was thirteen. It was a necessary ingredient, as far as her mother was concerned, in the creation of a perfect veneer. And in the Treffen world, veneer was everything. If only she’d learned a little more about dealing with things beneath the surface. Beneath the polished outer shell she felt vulnerable. She’d spent far too long bolstering up the outside, letting the inside grow weak. Pale.
She pinned her blond hair back into a low bun, not bothering with a flatiron before slipping her skirt up over her hips, along with a pair of black nylons that had a seam running down the back.
She added a pair of black pumps and examined her reflection in the full-length mirror. It was a bit…flashier than typical intern wear, at least flashier than she imagined intern wear to be. Not something she would have worn to classes either. This was what she might wear to a luncheon. An outfit that would help her fit in, while simultaneously allowing her to stand out a bit. It was the hallmark of Socialite Addison. And she needed a little Socialite Addison.
Perhaps because Socialite Addison was by far the most confident Addison.
And confidence would be required today. Since she seemed to lack any at night. She hated how afraid she’d become. All the time.
It was as Logan had said. Suddenly, life had consequences. Life had weight, where before it had been…
It had been a game in so many ways. Not now.
She cleared her throat and grabbed her purse off the nightstand, checking her email as she walked down the hall. Still nothing from Harlow. Which was strange.
She paused for a second and pulled up her friend’s phone number, deciding to go ahead and give her a call, even though she wasn’t entirely certain of what time it was in Europe.
The phone went straight to a standard message. A recorded, robotic female voice saying that the number she’d dialed was no longer in service.
Addison swallowed hard and lowered the phone, her hands shaking a little. Possible