Falling For The Enemy. Shawna Delacorte
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get rid of those errant bits of curiosity. She already knew quite a bit about him, but she still lacked the proof of his culpability in her father’s death. If she could find that proof she could use it to force him to do something honorable, to secure the jobs of her father’s employees rather than tossing them out on the street.
She certainly couldn’t trust Bryce to do it on his own. She had learned all about trust from her ex-husband…trusting anyone was something that no longer came easily for her. Once trust had been destroyed, rebuilding it was a long process. And it was a process that she hadn’t really started to investigate, one that had not been necessary. She had no need to place that type of trust in anyone else. She could take care of herself.
She breathed a little bit easier as she regained control of her wandering emotions. It had only been a fleeting lapse of judgment and she would not allow it to happen again. She had initially been thrown off balance by the overwhelming magnitude of his dynamic presence, the way he had dominated the large office where they met. After all, she was only human, and even though he was the enemy, that did not negate that he was an undeniably sexy and desirable man.
But Paige had it under control now. No doubt about it. From this moment on their relationship would be business only. No more errant thoughts or idle musings for her. Bryce had given her a great deal of material to look over and she was not about to give him any reason to be dissatisfied with her work. This job was the perfect place for her to carry out her plan and she was determined to go through with it. One way or the other, she would make Bryce Lexington pay for what he’d done.
She stared at the file folders he had given her to study. Then the idea popped into her head. At first it was only an inkling, then it exploded into a full-blown plan. One of these files could give her solid proof of his wrongdoing. Four different projects—surely at least one of them would disclose some underhanded dealings on his part? It would give her written evidence of his ethics and what wasn’t in the files would be something she could observe firsthand since she would be present at the meetings. It would be a big step in proving Bryce’s duplicity.
Her excitement grew as she picked up the folder and began to search the contents for the proof she needed.
Two
Bryce stayed in the rear cabin and continued his dictation—reports, letters, memos. He finished the last letter then clicked off the recorder as he glanced at his watch. It was almost midnight Los Angeles time. He left the cabin and walked through the plane, coming to a halt next to the table. Paige’s head rested on top of the opened file, her eyes closed. Her slow, even breathing told him she was asleep. He stared at her for a moment. The hard edge he had put on his feelings softened as he continued to gaze at her. She was truly lovely. If only he could figure out what was on her hidden agenda.
He carefully picked her up and carried her to the back cabin. She stirred, but only snuggled farther into his arms without waking. It was a small thing, but the intimate gesture touched off a rush of excitement deep inside him. He held her in his arms a moment longer than necessary before gently placing her on the bed. He removed her shoes, then pulled a blanket over her and left the cabin.
Bryce poured himself a glass of wine, then sat at the table, his forehead creased in deep concentration as his thoughts turned to the situation at hand. He pictured the beautiful woman who had snuggled so enticingly in his arms and thought back to her comments about ethical behavior and monetary results. I don’t know what you’re up to, Paige Franklin Bradford, but I think finding out is going to be a very interesting adventure.
An image of Paige appeared in his mind’s eye. An uncomfortable shiver made its way up his spine. He wanted to rid himself of the image and everything implied that went with it. He wanted to, but he didn’t seem to be able to force himself to do it. The delightful image played over and over in his mind.
He knew he needed to be very careful in how he proceeded. If she did, indeed, have some sort of hidden agenda as Joe had suggested, then any misstep on his part would only provide her with more fuel. Bryce had to make sure everything was totally proper and aboveboard—a thought that led him back to his curiosity over her comment about business ethics.
He leaned back in the recliner, closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. He needed to get some sleep. A few minutes later his conscious thoughts were replaced by the subconscious workings of his mind.
The private jet streaked its way eastward through the night sky, eventually traveling into daylight.
Paige woke with a start as the morning sun shone through the window and landed on her face. She sat up abruptly and looked around, trying to get her bearings. She knew she was still on the jet, but did not recall leaving the main cabin. Nor did she remember exactly when she fell asleep, other than the fact that it was somewhere during file number three. Her suitcase sat on the floor by the bed and her shoes were next to it. She took a quick shower. As soon as she finished dressing she went to the main cabin.
She found Bryce stretched out in one of the recliners, his fingers laced together and his hands resting casually across his stomach. He was asleep. He seemed totally and completely at ease. Absolutely no tension showed on his face. She watched him for a moment. She scowled as a twinge of disgust jabbed at her. It was evident that he did not allow his ruthless business tactics to disturb his peace of mind.
As Paige continued to watch him, he began to stir. Suddenly he bolted upright in the chair, instantly wide awake.
“Bradford!” He stared at her for a long moment wondering what had been going through her mind to cause the strange expression on her face. He immediately assumed command of the situation. “Well—” he rose from the chair and stretched his arms above his head “—I see you’re finally awake. Maybe now you’ll have time to finish going over those files. You seem to have fallen asleep in the middle of number three.” With that, he turned and went to the galley to fix some coffee.
“Finally awake?” Her hackles stood on end as she glared at him. She could not prevent the animosity from creeping into her voice. “Just what do you mean by that? You can’t expect people to work twenty-four hours a day.”
Either he didn’t hear her or was purposely ignoring her questions. Either way, perhaps it was just as well. She needed to watch her step. She knew she was in a position to be able to uncover the type of information she needed. She didn’t want to do anything to cause him to fire her from this job. Yes, caution was definitely in order regardless of his having just exhibited yet another example of his abrupt behavior.
She backed off for a moment as she watched him. She silently acknowledged that he was fixing the coffee himself rather than expecting her to do it. She tightened her jaw again. That was the only thing she would admit. She retrieved files three and four from the table then sat down on the couch to continue where she had left off before falling asleep.
“Here, Bradford.” Bryce set a cup of coffee next to her. “Hurry up and finish with those files. We’re landing in an hour.” With that, he took his coffee and went into the back cabin.
Paige continued reading the files, closing file number four half an hour later just as he opened the door and came back into the main cabin clean shaven and wearing fresh clothes. She did not entirely understand all the ramifications of his proposal for profits and how they would be allocated, but the amount of notes, including his hand-written notations, indicated to her that the London art gallery was his pet project. She recalled Bryce’s degree in fine art, which would account for his interest.
“Any questions, Bradford?”
“None that I can think of right now.”
He flashed a quick smile that said he knew better. “There will be.” He dismissed the subject as he reached for the coffeepot to refill his cup. He held up the pot in her direction, cocked his head and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Bradford?”
She held up her cup. “Yes, thank you.”
It annoyed her, the way he looked as rested as if he had just had eight hours’ sleep in a comfortable bed rather than a few hours in a chair. She entertained a brief