Dangerous Obsessions Page 2

  The rest of it, the smell of her, the need to possess her that was verging on an obsession—

  It would be gone as soon as I had her again. It always was. I ignored the voice in my head telling me that this woman was trouble. I was Dominick Ellison. I took what I wanted. Anyone in New York could tell you that. She was mine, not the other way around.

  - Catriona -

  “Because it’s a bad idea!” Nate’s voice rang out in the tiny living room and I sighed, tipping my head back and scrunching up my face. He couldn’t see me, around the bedroom door, which was good, because I was in no mood to modulate my expression. “Cat…” His voice was miserable. He’d come to stand right outside the room now, and from the shadow of his feet under the door, he was hovering close. “Cat, it’s a bad idea. You knew that this afternoon. What changed?”

  “Nothing changed,” I said simply, trying not to snap.

  “So why aren’t you going to stay here?” Nate demanded.

  “You know why.” I hooked an earring in and studied the effect. It was cheap, ridiculously so compared to anything Dominick usually saw, but the green brought out both my eyes and my hair. I wavered, and then put on the other one. He knew I was on the bottom tier of his PR team, and if he shamed me for being poor, it only gave me more information about the kind of person he was. The kind of person, in truth, that I knew he was—why couldn’t I seem to remember that when I was in his presence?

  Nate drew breath to speak, and I sighed, steeling myself to listen to what he had to say without sighing. But he knew me, and he was too clever to come at this directly.

  “I’m scared, Cat.”

  I stood silently, gripping the edges of my dresser, staring at my pale face in the mirror. My eyes were wide, and I looked lost under the eyeliner and lipstick. I could see my breasts rising and falling with my too-quick breaths. I didn’t want to admit it, but the words came anyway: “I’m scared, too.”

  “Then why go?” His voice was persuasive. “We had a plan, remember? And it’s working. We’re perfectly placed to learn what’s going on there. We don’t need to go to the top, we can work our way up, take our time, learn what we need to learn. You don’t need to do this—that man upsets you, Cat. And you know he might expect...” Nate’s voice trailed off and he coughed. “I’m sorry,” he added defensively, his voice rising a little, “but it’s true.”

  As if I didn’t know that. My face flushed. What would Nate think if he knew what had happened in the basement the other day before he found me? I could still picture my blouse open and my breasts spilling out, my skirt up around my hips as Dominick thrust into me—

  Nate would tell them if he knew, and they’d take me off this project, and the project was mine, dammit. I opened the door and gave him as haughty a look as I could.

  “I know that,” I said levelly. “But I am one of his employees, and I am well within my rights to say no.”

  “What if he fires you?” Nate pointed out.

  “He’s as likely to do that if I’m a no-show, isn’t he?”

  “Text him that you’re sick! Put it off!” Nate waved his hands. I saw his gaze run over my body and he swallowed. “You look, ah…you really shouldn’t wear that.”

  “Why not?” I arched an eyebrow at him. “Listen. We want to get Ellison Corp. Dominick Ellison knows everything there is to know. You’ve read everything I have about him. He doesn’t give a damn about anyone.” I bit my lip at the sudden stab of hurt in my chest. Was I child? Why should I hope for something I knew was never going to happen? I turned away and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. “So if what it takes is putting on a dress like this and getting him to admit things in a nice dinner conversation with some wine, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “And what if he figures out your game?” Nate came after me quickly, grabbing my arm to turn me.

  I jerked away instinctively. It had taken me months to notice Nate’s interest in me, possibly because even he couldn’t seem to believe that he was falling for the chubby girl. His own shame about it made me feel dirty every time I saw desire in his eyes, and I didn’t want him to touch me, not now. Not when the last hands to touch me had been urgent, pressing me close with unchecked desire—at least Dominick Ellison, I thought savagely, didn’t seem to give a damn what people thought about him wanting me.

  “I’m sorry.” Nate must have seen the flash of anger in my eyes. He held up his hands. “I really am, Cat. I’m sorry.” He sounded miserable again, and his face screwed up. “But please listen to me, just for a second. Please, Cat. What if he figures out what’s going on? People…disappear in there.”

  “Yes!” I dropped the glass into a sink with a clatter and clenched my hands. “They do. They go into Ellison Corp, and they disappear, and the world never hears about it! And who knows what’s going on down there? They took our damned blood the day we signed up. Who knows what they might decide to try on us? Us, Nate. Maybe it’s dangerous to go tonight, but it’s dangerous to drag this out, too. The longer this goes on, we’re in danger—and everyone else in that building is, too.” I could feel tears starting in my eye, and I was jabbing my finger at his chest. “What if our informant had children, huh? What did his widow get told? Or is no one ever going to know, and he’s going to be lying in some ditch somewhere while the world doesn’t even know it should care?”

  “Hey.” His hands were at my shoulders, and this time I didn’t shrug them away. “Hey. I know.”

  “If you know…” I turned away, wiping at my eyes and praying I hadn’t messed up the mascara. “If you know, why don’t you want me to go tonight?”

  “Because in a game with Dominick Ellison, Cat…you’re going to lose.”

  I jerked my head around, jaw set, and he shook his head.

  “I wish I could tell you differently. You’re smart, you’re smarter than anyone I know—I swear. Maybe you think you can go home with him tonight, huh? Get his files after he’s asleep?”

  I tried not to look away. His words hit too close on a truth I didn’t want to admit. I did want to go home with Dominick tonight, and it should be because of the files…but it wasn’t. I couldn’t admit that, and so I just stood there and let Nate think what he wanted. He sighed and ran a hand through his messy brown hair.

  “People who cross Dominick Ellison die,” he said finally, his voice flat. “No one’s heard from his brother in years. His own brother.”

  “Sebastian.” I wondered vaguely if that was what the media question had been about.

  “Huh? Yeah, I think that’s him.”

  “Yeah, well if he was anything like Dominick, maybe the world’s better off without two of them.” My voice was bitter. I wiped at my eyes again and tried to smile as Nate was startled into a laugh.

  “That’s true.” He shrugged, and sobered again, sighing. “I’m just worried. Look. Cat. If something goes wrong…if you think he’s on to you, or you’re just in over your head, or anything, you call me, okay? It’ll stay between us.”

  “And will this?” I asked him directly, gesturing at the dress and the makeup. Our bosses were already complicit in something illegal, but I knew they’d draw a line with this. It would make them look bad, worse than any of the rest of it.

  Nate hesitated, then nodded. “I won’t say anything,” he promised.

  “Good.” I reached for my purse. “I’m going to go. Don’t come out with me.”

  He opened his mouth, and seemed to realize the futility of arguing with me. “All right.” He followed me into the hall and waited as I locked the door, and I left him there without a backward glance, taking the elevator down to the ground floor with my heart pounding and my palms suddenly clammy.

  ***

  The car outside was sleek and black, the sort of thing executives traveled in, and I grimaced at my own foolishness. I had been expecting a cab, but this was Dominick we were talking about. His driver—wearing a suit that might well cost more than a few months’ worth of my salary—got
out of the car quickly and had the door open for me by the time I got there.

  “Thank you,” I said awkwardly. I wondered how many women he’d done this for. But he only smiled and nodded his head, and left me alone in the black leather interior.

  I gazed out the windows as we wound out of Battery Park toward Soho, and realized I was going about this all wrong. I should have made Dominick tell me where we were going. I should have insisted on going alone. I should have told Nate. I swallowed hard as my stomach twisted in fear; people who crossed Dominick Ellison disappeared just like his employees did.

  I clenched my hands around my clutch and reminded myself that those disappearances were exactly why I was doing this. As the car slid to a stop and the driver came around the side, I fixed a smile on my face and too his hand.

  “Thank you,” I said again. He was not going to see me scared, even if he was built like a bouncer.

  I expected to be shown to Dominick’s table, but instead he was waiting for me inside the door. His gaze traveled over the low neckline of my gown and my bare shoulders, over the curve of my waist and the swell of my hips, and I trembled at the lust in his eyes. That look made it clear he wanted nothing more than to drag me back to his place right now, but thankfully he seemed to be observing some proprieties, at least. When he spoke, his voice was pitched just for me, making the low conversation and music of the restaurant fade away.

  “This way.” He guided me through the restaurant, nodding pleasantly at a few trim men in suits and their equally thin wives, all of whom were wearing bracelets and earrings of real diamonds. I remembered my cheap earrings and wanted to turn around and run, but I could no more have resisted Dominick’s touch than I could have turned my earrings into real emeralds.

  He pulled out my chair for me and then sat across the perfectly set table, his blue eyes burning into mine. When he raised his wine glass, I lifted mine as well without a thought, smiling at him.

  “So.” His voice was pleasant, and also a threat.

  “Yes?” I asked him. I sat a little straighter and mentally armed myself for battle. It began.

  - Dominick -

  So she was going to pretend there was nothing between us, was she? I could feel my blood heating and I smiled, watching her tremble under my regard. She should tremble; I wanted her helpless when I finally got her in my arms tonight. I felt my smile widen, lazily, watching those gorgeous tits press against the neckline of her dress. She was afraid. She knew, just like I did, that as soon as my hands were on her, she was mine. She would melt against me and I would take everything I wanted—and she would beg to give it to me.

  That’s not what happened earlier.

  I shoved the thought away. She had come here tonight, and if she hoped to come here and not have me take what was mine, she was going to find out that she had made a very big mistake. I saw the attempt at reserve in her eyes, and my blood heated with the desire to punish her for it. I was going to take my time tonight.

  I wasn’t a saint, of course. I was already rock hard. She was going to put those pretty red lips around my cock until I came in her mouth, and then I was going to take my time with her. I breathed out, feeling a growl build in my throat as I imagined sinking my face down between those thighs, licking and probing until she begged. Her hands would be tied, of course; the thought of her straining against black silk rope made me grip the table until my knuckles went white.

  She raised an eyebrow, and I saw a gleam of amusement in her eyes. It was surprisingly charming. Did she really think she was going to win?

  “You did well with that dress.” I kept my voice low and watched her flush slightly. “You’re a good girl.”

  She swallowed and her lips parted. For a moment, she looked at me like she would give me anything I wanted, and I felt a surge of desire that made me shake with the effort of not taking her right there on the table—and a strange disappointment, that this battle of wits would be over so soon.

  But she didn’t give up. She raised her chin fractionally and stared me down.

  “Mr. Ellison, may I remind you that—”

  “You’re my employee? I’m aware.” I reached out to take her hand where it lay on the table, and closed my fingers around hers when she tried to jerk them out of the way. “You’re also mine.”

  “I am not yours!” Her voice was a fierce little whisper. She succeeded in yanking her fingers away and clenched them in her lap, her cheeks flaming.

  “No?” I took a sip of my wine. “So how do you explain what happened in my office today? And the other day, of course. And in the hallway.”

  She trembled at the list, and clenched her teeth.

  “We both wanted that,” she said simply. “So it happened.”

  It was a decent attempt at nonchalance, but the faint flush in her cheeks belied it. “And what was ‘that,’ exactly?”

  “I’m not going to—”

  “Say it.” The command slammed into the air between us, and she fell silent.

  “You fucked me,” she said finally, her voice very small. I saw her lips move, saw her want to call me sir. She resisted.

  Just another thing to punish her for. I was going to enjoy this.

  “So, you wanted me to fuck you all those other times.” I waited for a response.

  “Yes.” Her eyes slid away.

  “Look at me. Good. Don’t look away again. You wanted me to fuck you all those other times, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” She wanted desperately to run, and she either did not dare, or could not fight her own desire. Either way, she was halfway into my bed.

  “And you don’t want me to now?” I kept my voice pleasant and leaned out of the way as the waiter placed two plates of food in front of us. “Thank you.”

  “Will that be all, sir?” The waiter looked at Catriona, his gaze traveling over her curves, and I suppressed the urge to knock him across the room for looking, for enjoying what was mine.

  “That will be all.”

  Even if he didn’t understand the nature of the threat, he knew it was there. He left hurriedly, and Catriona stared after him.

  “You didn’t have to be rude.”

  “He was looking at you.” I met her startled gaze. “That body is for me. No one else.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she said, but her voice wavered.

  “Is it? In the hallway, you came when I told you that you were mine.” I leaned forward, savoring the sight of the pulse beating wildly at her throat. “I was inside you, Catriona, you couldn’t hide your body’s response to me. And that response is because you know as well as I do that you’re mine.”

  “I am not yours,” she said again. “I should go.”

  “Because you don’t want me to fuck you again?” I asked pleasantly.

  She swallowed. “Yes.”

  “Say it, then.”

  “I don’t want you to fuck me.” The words were quiet. She didn’t want anyone to overhear us.

  “Louder. Look me in the eyes.”

  “I don’t want you to fuck me.” She met my gaze, her jaw set.

  She was perfection. How long had I subsisted with women who gave me everything simply because I asked? Too long. What they wanted had never entered into it from their side, beyond their desire for my money, and I realized with distaste that it had been a joyless few years. I should have seen it then, but it took this beauty in front of me now, breathless with desire and yet refusing me, to show me what I wanted.

  I was shaken to my core. I could have any other woman in this city if I just snapped my fingers. Catriona Wright was nothing—except a threat of a sort I couldn’t put my finger on. And I had built my career on avoiding that kind of threat. The calm, rational part of my brain told me to accept her refusal, stand up, and leave. Instead, I leaned forward.

  “Liar.” My voice was soft, a caress that made her close her eyes and turn her head away. I wanted to drag my fingers down the line of her throat, watch her lips part for me. She was exquisite, and no
thing in this world, not whatever sense of propriety was keeping her away and not my own worry about the danger, was going to stop me from having her. “There will be consequences when you lie to me, Catriona.”

  She wavered, and then she shoved her chair back, the screech of it causing a few people to look over from their meals. She walked to the bathroom too quickly, as if she were willing herself not to run, her back ramrod straight and that fiery hair spilling down her back.

  It took me a moment to realize it was not an invitation, and then I wanted to laugh. She was going to run from me. She was going to try to run away? She thought that if she just removed herself from my presence, she could deny her desire and my claim on her? I pushed my own chair back and followed her, adjusting my cuffs, my gaze a challenge to anyone who dared meet my eyes. The other patrons looked away and the waiters fell deferentially out of my path.

  The bathroom was for one occupant only, and she had locked the door. I breathed deeply against the urge to break the door down by force and spoke in a voice I knew would carry.

  “Open the door, Catriona.”

  She said nothing. I could sense her staring at the door, her face resolute.

  “Open. The door.” I did not let my voice rise. “I won’t ask you again.”

  It took longer than I would have expected, but at last I heard the click of her heels and the deadbolt slid back. Still I waited, my body rigid with impatience, until she pushed the handle down and opened the door herself, stepping back to let me in. She did not look at me as I closed the door behind myself and locked it. I studied her averted face, the way her hair shone. She was terrified.

  “Look at me.”

  She looked up and met my eyes. She had stepped away as she opened the door and I saw her taking comfort in the distance.

  “Come here,” I ordered her.