Bad Boss, page 16
There was anger in his eyes. Anger at me.
‘Yes, I know she is,’ I tried to explain. ‘But I had to walk away. I can’t make her laugh. And I can’t make her happy, not the way she deserves to be happy. She has to pretend with me.’
Damian cursed under his breath. ‘Look, I said a dumb, fucking thing. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—’
‘You were right, though. I’m not like anyone else. And I can’t give her the things she needs. And it hurts that I can’t. She shouldn’t ever have to pretend—’
‘She’s not pretending,’ he growled.
‘But how do I know? How will I ever know?’ The pain felt as if it was slicing my heart in two. Of course, this was the problem. That was why it hurt. I’d never know if she was lying to me. I’d never know for sure that she meant it when she said she loved me.
And I wanted her to.
I wanted her to love me.
I didn’t even know what love was, but some part of me must have had an inkling. And that part of me wanted it more than I wanted my next breath.
Damian shook his head. ‘Join the club, buddy. None of us ever knows for sure.’
I frowned. ‘No one?’
‘No.’ He let out a breath. ‘We don’t have certainty, Ulysses. None of us do. All we have is trust.’
You have to trust me.
But I’d told her I didn’t. How could I?
‘I can’t trust. People have lied to me in the past.’
‘Has she ever lied to you before?’ Damian’s expression was oddly fierce. ‘Even once?’
Do you trust me, Ulysses? I would never lie to you.
‘She pretends to laugh,’ I said dumbly. ‘She—’
‘She pretends because she cares about you, you fucking idiot,’ Everett said impatiently from behind me.
‘But I don’t want her to pretend,’ I said. ‘She’s been pretending all her life. She shouldn’t have to any more.’
Damian’s expression twisted. ‘We all have to pretend sometimes, man. It’s part of living with someone. But, fundamentally, all you’ve got is trust. Which means you have to trust her, Ulysses. You have to help her, you fucking ass. You’ve broken her heart and I can’t make it better.’
The pain coursed through me, but through it I felt something shift.
Only I could make it better. Only me. There was no one else.
It will always be you.
Did I trust her? Could I trust her? Could I trust Damian when he said that everyone felt this? That no one had certainty? That everyone had to pretend sometimes?
If you keep questioning that, you’ll always be alone. You’ll never have anyone. You’ll never have her.
My throat closed up, a powerful emotion swamping me. I wanted to walk away from it, but Damian and Everett were holding me still, so I had no choice but to stay there until it broke over me. Drowning me.
Making me realise that I didn’t want to be alone. I’d never wanted to be alone. That was why it had hurt when Uncle John had told me he didn’t want to adopt me. And that was why it was hurting now.
But it was more than just loneliness. It was the craving for another person—yet not just any person.
I wanted Morgan.
Was this emotion love? Was this craving for one person and one person only love? This pain and this longing? This wanting more? I didn’t like it. And yet... I couldn’t escape it.
It was a choice, I understood suddenly. I had to choose it. I could choose to walk away and keep walking, choose to avoid the pain. Or I could embrace it.
‘It hurts,’ I said to Damian. ‘I don’t like it.’
Damian shrugged, his silver eyes glittering. ‘Goes with the territory. You just have to ask yourself whether you want to be alone for the rest of your life and avoid the pain. Or you choose her and take the pain with all the good stuff.’
What ‘good stuff’?
Think about it.
Her hand on my chest. Her smile. Her scent. The little black beauty spot near her mouth. The light in her eyes when she looked at me, as if I was enough for her. As if my company was something she took pleasure in. Her things everywhere in my penthouse. The intense feeling when I was inside her, holding her in my arms...
‘I hurt her.’ My voice sounded hoarse. ‘I couldn’t stay... I couldn’t...’ I stopped, then tried again. ‘How can I make it better? I don’t know...’
‘You do.’ Damian said it with so much certainty I couldn’t help but believe him. ‘You know, Ulysses.’
And I did.
‘Take me to her,’ I said. ‘Now.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Morgan
I WOKE UP the next morning curled up on the couch of Ulysses’s penthouse. Damian had put a blanket over me, but it didn’t make me feel any less cold. Or less empty.
It was dawn and the place was silent. As silent as my little flat had been.
He wasn’t here. He hadn’t come home.
Another tear slipped down my cheek. I felt as though I’d been crying all night, which was just ridiculous. I’d always thought I’d be stronger than this, that I wouldn’t let a man destroy me. But turns out I wasn’t. I’d let Ulysses devastate me and there was no coming back from it.
I wiped the tears away uselessly. He wasn’t here and worry made everything worse. Was he all right? Where was he?
Damian and Everett had come to find me when both my absence and Ulysses’s had been noted, and had discovered me in Ulysses’s penthouse crying in the shower. Fully clothed.
Damian had been furious, but I’d told him to shut the fuck up, that I didn’t want him getting angry on my behalf—not when Ulysses had already broken my heart. I didn’t need my stupid brother kicking around the shards in my chest.
Everett had pulled him away and told me that they’d go out and look for Ulysses. Just to make sure he was okay. And presumably to give me some alone time.
But I was done with my alone time. I had too much of that already.
I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted Ulysses.
At that moment, I heard the door open and I turned towards it, thinking it was Damian and Everett returning.
But it wasn’t.
Ulysses came storming into the room. He looked a wreck. His hair was standing up and his shirt was wrinkled. He didn’t have a jacket. His tie was gone.
His eyes were black holes in his shadowed face and they burned.
He didn’t look anywhere but at me and he came towards me without hesitation.
I opened my mouth—to say what, I had no idea—but nothing came out as he came over to the couch, ripped the blanket off me and bent, gathering me up in his arms.
His heat was around me, his scent, the sound of his heart beating against my ear, and for a second I just went limp, weeping silently, because him here was the last thing I’d expected.
The relief of his presence was agony and I couldn’t move. ‘What are you doing here?’ I forced out. ‘Where have you been? I thought we were over.’
He turned and sat down on the couch with me, holding me tightly. ‘Walking. I’ve been walking.’
‘Ulysses—’
‘Damian and Everett found me. And they told me you were upset and that you needed me.’
I shook my head. He’d never get it.
‘And so I came back...’ He stopped, and I thought he’d finished, but then he said, ‘I don’t want to be alone, Morgan. And leaving you hurt... It made me feel like...like I was ten again and Uncle John said he couldn’t adopt me. I’d believed him when he said he would and then he said he wouldn’t... I couldn’t believe anyone after that.’
The confession was so unexpected, I couldn’t speak. So I put my hand on his chest, over his heart, because who knew how long he’d stay here? I had to take what I could, while I could.
‘But then you said I had to trust you,’ he went on, sounding as if he was choosing his words carefully. ‘And I said I couldn’t. I can’t trust people, because I don’t know when they’re lying. And I couldn’t bear the thought of you lying to me. It hurt badly. So I had to ask myself why it hurt so much. Damian said it was because I loved you and I...think he’s right. I don’t know what this emotion is. It’s very strong, and it overwhelms me, and it hurts. And I don’t like it. I don’t want to be that boy any more. But... I don’t want to be without you. I want you in my arms. I want your hand on me. I want your things in my penthouse. I want your smile. It makes me feel...good. And I think the good things are worth the pain.’
I blinked in shock, my heart aching. ‘What are you trying to say, Ulysses?’
He frowned, obviously frustrated. ‘I’m saying that I want you. I want to have you in my life. And, more than anything, I want to make you happy.’
The jagged shards of my heart were digging in, hurting, but this time the pain had the sweet edge of hope to it. ‘That’s what I want for you too,’ I said hoarsely. ‘That’s all I ever wanted for you.’
His frown deepened. ‘There’s some things I won’t ever be able to do, Morgan. There’s some things I won’t ever be able to understand.’ He hesitated. ‘Are you sure that’s what you want? I’m not like everyone else.’
I could feel the tears fall, but this time I didn’t mind them. They were happy tears. Tears for us both. Because, no matter what he said, no matter that he didn’t understand some emotions, he was here. He was holding me. And, whether he knew it or not, he felt those emotions, just like we all did.
‘No, you’re not like everyone else.’ I lifted my hand and cupped his strong jaw. ‘You’re better.’
He would never be a typical man. But I didn’t want a typical man.
I wanted him.
He stared at me in silence a long time, then he said, ‘When you say that, I’m glad I’m the way I am. Because, if I wasn’t this way, I’d never have you.’
My heart swelled inside my aching ribs, and I couldn’t speak. There were no words for how I felt in this moment.
But I didn’t need to say anything, because he went on, ‘I don’t want this to end, Morgan. I want us to be together. I want you to be mine.’
I swallowed. He couldn’t say the words so I said them for him. ‘I love you too, Ulysses.’
‘Damian told me that only I could make you better and I had a thought about how to do that. So red, amber or green?’
So very Ulysses. ‘Green. All the lights are forever green.’
He gave a very serious nod. ‘Good.’
And then he set about making me feel better with a single-mindedness that took my breath away.
And afterwards, lying peacefully in his arms in bed, I heard him make a soft noise. ‘Ulysses, are you humming?’ I asked.
‘No,’ he said. And resumed humming.
It was strange how happiness could be painful and yet so unbearably sweet at the same time.
I put my hand on his chest. ‘You’re happy, aren’t you?’
He looked at me, and this time, for the first time, he smiled without me doing so first. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, I think I am.’
EPILOGUE
Ulysses
SHE’D WANTED TO get married in Paris. I didn’t care where I got married, as long as I was marrying her, so I organised it. It was one social occasion I was actually enjoying, mainly because it meant I got to hold her all day.
The previous week she’d been on a tour of a few of our head offices, as part of her new role as my second-in-command—Frankfurt, Hong Kong, New York, plus the new one in Sydney—and I’d missed her. I wasn’t sure I liked her promotion—my new assistant was good, but he wasn’t Morgan—yet I saw the need for it. I couldn’t be everywhere at once, and I didn’t want to be, so she’d do the travelling and personal interactions, supporting and encouraging staff in the other offices. She’d put together the role herself, with some input from me, and it was perfect for her, allowing her to travel and meet different people. Do different things.
It wasn’t at all what I wanted to do myself, but maybe one day I’d go with her.
Today, though, we held the reception on the first level of the Eiffel Tower and there was dancing.
I didn’t like dancing, but I didn’t mind when it was with her.
She was in a flowing white wedding dress that felt silky when I touched it, but it wasn’t as silky as the skin it covered. Skin I planned to touch and kiss every inch of later that night.
Right now, though, I had her in my arms, the lights glossing her shiny black hair. Damian and Everett were also dancing nearby with their wives. Morgan had told me she and Damian had talked a lot about the past and had cleared some things up. I was glad. I really didn’t want to have to punch Damian for the way he’d treated her.
I spun her around beneath the coloured lights.
She smiled and said, ‘I love you.’
I held her closer. She’d said that a lot over the past few weeks and I still hadn’t said it back. I knew she didn’t expect me to but I wanted to. The issue was that I didn’t know what love was, so how could I say it? Was it what I felt for her? Or was it something else? Something I’d never be able to feel?
It was very important that I get it right.
‘How do you know it’s love?’ I asked.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she smiled again. ‘I can’t explain. It’s one of those things that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to describe for you.’
‘Then how will I ever know if what I feel is love?’
‘Well, it’s different for everyone.’
I stared at her, surprised. ‘It is?’
‘Of course. Because everyone is unique. The word “love” means one thing, but the feeling is different for every single person.’ She clasped her small hands behind my neck, leaning back in my arms. ‘For me, love is the feeling I get whenever I look at you. Whenever you touch me or smile at me. It’s painful and sharp, and so big I feel like I’m drowning. And yet it makes me so happy I want to cry.’
‘That sounds terrible,’ I said.
She laughed and my heart leapt. ‘I know, but that’s love for me. You have to decide what it means for you.’
The idea surprised me so much that I stopped dancing. Was it that simple? Could I just decide that the feeling inside me was love?
I frowned. ‘But what if it isn’t love?’
‘There’s no right or wrong decision. You just have to trust that feeling.’
I couldn’t trust my feelings, though.
But then she’d said that love was different for everyone and that I’d have to decide what it meant for me. Which meant it was another choice.
I could decide what love was for myself.
I stared down at her. She was so important to me. She’d taught me what happiness felt like and this was part of it. I wanted to give her the love that she needed.
‘I thought I was having a heart attack,’ I said carefully, watching her. ‘When Damian found me that day along the river. I told him I needed to go to hospital.’
As I hoped, she laughed. ‘Really?’
And my heart leapt again and I knew.
That was love.
Love for me.
That was the feeling I got when she laughed.
And it felt right. It felt true. So I trusted it.
‘I love you, Morgan,’ I said.
Her smile vanished and her eyes filled with sudden tears. But I knew the difference now. These were good tears.
So I gathered her in close, and I held her, and we danced.
I was very good at a lot of things. Patterns and money and sex.
But I was good at loving Morgan most of all.
* * *
If you loved Bad Boss, look out for the other books in Jackie Ashenden’s Billion $ Bastards miniseries
Dirty Devil
Sexy Beast
Available now from Harlequin DARE.
Dare to read more sexy stories! Check out our other Harlequin DARE titles, available now:
Driving Him Wild by Zara Cox
Taming Reid by J. Margot Critch
Pure Temptation by Rebecca Hunter
Also by Jackie Ashenden
The Knights of Ruin
Ruined
Destroyed
Kings of Sydney
King’s Price
King’s Rule
King’s Ransom
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