The Complete Red-Hot Collection. Kelly Hunter
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‘Grateful for your trust.’
He ran his hand through his hair and for a moment he looked so lost.
‘I’m not—’ he began. ‘I’m not always like that in bed.’
‘What are you usually like?’
‘Dominant.’
‘Sometimes people switch.’
He didn’t look convinced. ‘Not me. Not often. Ro … last night was all about me, and I’m sorry, because it shouldn’t have been. What do you want out of this? What do you need?’
Now it was Rowan’s turn to feel lost and uncertain. ‘I don’t know what I want from you, or what I’m likely to need. I enjoy your company. Your body.’ And, truth be told, she enjoyed his current vulnerability.
His gaze skated to her bare upper arm. ‘I know it’s a little late, but what about pregnancy?’
‘I have long-term contraception in place.’ A lot of agents did.
‘I figured,’ he muttered. ‘Still should have checked.’
‘It wasn’t just your responsibility.’
‘Yeah.’ He ran his hand through his hair—that nervous gesture of his again. ‘Things are different with you in the mix. I’m getting that loud and clear.’
‘Is that a bad thing?’
He set his coffee down abruptly, took hers from her suddenly nerveless fingers as well. And then he framed her face and kissed her, and she felt the hunger and the desperation in him all the way to her soul. By the time he pulled back they were both breathing hard and her hunger was probably a match for his.
‘No, it’s not bad at all,’ he muttered roughly. ‘You scare the hell out of me. I scare the hell out of me. But I want more of this. Whatever this is.’ He pulled back. ‘I’m going to make some decisions today—career and lifestyle-altering decisions. I hope you’ll bear with me. I hope you’ll still want me.’
‘Jared—’ She badly wanted to see his confidence return, along with devilry and laughter. She wanted life for him, and peace. ‘I think that’s a given.’
Jared sat at his temporary desk in the open-plan cubicle that was meant to be an office and stared at the two identical reports he’d just handwritten. He’d given them everything that he’d held back the first time. Every person who’d come looking for Antonov’s wares during his time with the man, every name he knew, the connections he’d fathomed, the business framework the now-deceased arms dealer had built. Handwritten—all of it. Not a copy in existence. No cards left to play any more.
He was finished.
Management had asked him for a decision yesterday and he’d stalled them. Turned out he hadn’t needed much more time in order to make his decision after all. He didn’t have anything to pack—his desk was empty. He didn’t have anything to wipe from the computer in front of him because in the short time he’d been back he’d never used it. Save to open emails and ignore them.
He made his way up to the management office he’d been in yesterday and stopped ten feet in front of the secretary-who-wasn’t-a-secretary, waiting for her to acknowledge him.
He didn’t have to wait long.
‘Jared.’ She sounded cautious beneath the overlay of pleasant. She looked as if she knew his answer already and was simply waiting for him to voice it.
‘I have a report for you. It discloses the information I gathered during my time with Antonov. I hope it’s useful.’
She didn’t even look at the sheaf of papers he placed on the table. ‘So you’re leaving us?’
‘Yes. I like the woman you chose for me. I’m flattered that you think I could ever partner with her to run the division. I’d learn a lot from her, I think. And from you.’ He nodded towards the door on the left. ‘And from him. I respect what you do here and the skills required to do it. But the wellbeing of my family will always come first with me and every last one of my siblings is in a good place at the moment, living good lives that they’ve created for themselves. I don’t want to cut myself off from them and I don’t want to lure them into the shadow world you’re offering. My resignation is at the end of the report.’
She regarded him solemnly. ‘It’s true, this life is not for everyone. We appreciate you considering it.’ She looked at the report. ‘Would you be willing to consult with us on occasion?’
‘If it’s only my skills you want, yes. If you want access to the resources the rest of my family has access to, then no.’
‘I’ll make a note. Thank you for the report. Your resignation is effective immediately. Is there anything else?’
‘No.’ He made to take his leave.
‘Mr West? If you’re dropping by Section Five on your way out, tell Director Farringdon I’d like to see her when she has a moment.’
‘Of course.’ He hesitated. ‘Has anyone ever sat in the top job by themselves?’
‘Of course they have.’ She smiled slightly. ‘And may again.’
Rowan was on a conference call when he went to see her, according to Sam.
‘How long will she be?’
‘They’re just getting started.’
‘I only need a minute.’
‘Not possible.’ Sam eyed his duffel bag with suspicion. ‘Going somewhere?’
‘To pick up a yacht and then to my brother’s beach house. I’m done here. I resigned this morning. I need one minute with her. I want to drop something on her desk. She doesn’t even have to break her call.’
‘You’re welcome to leave whatever it is with me.’
‘I’d rather hand-deliver it. C’mon, Sam. One last indulgence and then you’ll never have to indulge me again.’
‘Uh-huh?’ she said dryly. ‘I’ll see you in. Don’t talk if she’s sitting at her desk with headphones on. Fair warning.’
‘I won’t.’
Sam opened the door to the inner sanctum for him and he walked in and saw her sitting behind the desk, headset in place and her desk covered in papers. The expression on her face was a captivating combination of intense focus and serenity—as if this world was one she enjoyed … as if she’d been shaped for it.
She’d told him she’d been working towards it since she was in her teens.
Jared smiled a little at the eyebrow she raised in his direction. He withdrew the second copy of his report and held it up for her perusal before setting it on her desk, picking up her pen and scribbling on it that there were only two such reports in existence and that Management had the other one.
She read the words, nodded, and kept right on listening. Later? she scribbled on a memo pad, and he shook his head.
Beach house for me, he scribbled back, and then, belatedly remembering, Management wants to see you when you’re free.
She frowned at him then, and spoke into the headset speaker. ‘Yes, Clayton. I understand.’
He took one more look at her, just in case it was the last one he ever got of her in her workplace element.
He memorised her face.
And then he left.
It took Jared until Friday to get his new yacht to its new home at the marina near the beach house. Five days of putting the craft through its paces and rediscovering the beauty of Australia’s eastern coastline as seen from the Pacific. Five days of the sun on his face and shoulders and the spray of the ocean sandpapering his skin.
There