Two Rivals, One Bed, page 2
His dick twitched, signaling the desire for an up close meet-and-greet. Victor was totally in agreement with said body part. To say the woman was attractive would be akin to an insult. Her beauty was in a whole other category, different stratosphere.
“Her brother, Desmond, was a big shot at Columbia, business wunderkind. He’s now working alongside their father, Derrick, at Eddington Enterprise, one of the most successful financial services companies in the world. Both Society members. Power. Influence. With both Maeve and her equally stunning sister, Reign, the rule is look but don’t touch.”
Victor barely heard Cornelius’s warning. His legs had started moving in Maeve’s direction of their own accord.
And then he was beside her. “Hello, gorgeous.”
She turned mesmerizing brown eyes with gold flecks in his direction. Gave him the once-over. “Hi.”
“Name’s Victor.” He held out a hand. She shook it. “Victor Cortez.”
“Oh, you’re that Victor.”
“Uh-oh. What does that mean?”
“I’ve heard about you. You were engaged to Felicity Noble, cheated on her and broke her heart.”
Victor wasn’t surprised that she’d heard the story. His ex had told everyone but TMZ her version of what happened to cause the breakup, a story that bore little resemblance to the truth. Victor allowed the moment designed to help his ex save face. Family and true friends knew the real score. That’s all that mattered. Victor didn’t need to convince a campus otherwise, didn’t feel the need to put on a good-guy campaign. Those who wanted to believe the worst, so be it. Victor Cortez didn’t suffer from low self-esteem.
“Can’t believe everything you hear,” he finally answered.
Maeve cocked her head to the side. “So you’re not a lying, cheating playboy?”
“Not last time I checked, though I admit to being guilty of enjoying a mutually agreed upon good time.”
“Ah, a good time. That’s what you called it. Among committed parties, the more common word used is affair.”
“Between her and I, the most commonly used word now is over.” He held up his glass. “Can I get you a drink?”
Her eyes narrowed, the chin raised slightly beneath a pair of sinfully full lips. “No, thank you, Victor Cortez.”
She blessed him with a catlike smile before melding into the crowd of partygoers. He found himself searching for her, his thoughts drawn to her, for the rest of the night. He told himself it was because of her disinterest. Victor loved nothing more than a good challenge. But even as he tried to convince himself of this angle, he knew the way his heart palpitated when he saw her was different than his reaction toward other beautiful women. Maeve Eddington—there was something about her.
Later, he learned from Cornelius that while Victor was in his last year at Harvard Law School, this was her first. As his friend went on about her, he noticed something else. Cornelius was sprung. Besotted. Beyond infatuated. Cornelius denied it, said that to him Maeve was more like a sister. Their families had known each other all of their lives. Victor didn’t believe a word of it, but didn’t argue. In his mind, Cornelius’s loss was every other man’s gain.
Not that it mattered. Other than in a hallway, on the school grounds or at a party here and there, he barely saw Maeve. He graduated, returned to set up residences in both his hometown, Puerto Limon, and the country’s capital, San Jose, and began assisting in the governing of Costa Rica, alongside his high-profile father. Days were long. Nights were short. Women were plentiful. Soon enough, thoughts about Maeve Eddington slipped from Victor’s mind. But he never forgot her.
* * *
Victor grabbed his phone from a counter, returned to the table and picked up the business card. His heartbeat increased as he punched in her number and listened to the rings.
She’s probably busy or screening her calls.
Victor was sure the call would go to voice mail and began mentally preparing the message he’d leave when—
“Hello?”
Her voice was low and slightly raspy. It brought to mind the sweetness of sticky molasses poured on top of a sensual summer breeze.
“Maeve, hey. It’s Victor.”
“Hello, Victor. What’s up?”
“Nothing official or too serious. We didn’t have the chance earlier for a real conversation. I called to invite you out to dinner so that we can catch up.”
There was a long pause during which the unthinkable happened. Victor caught a case of nerves, something he hadn’t experienced since his fourth-grade self summoned up the courage to ask his pretty neighbor Bonita out to a Halloween party.
“Thanks, Victor, but I must decline the offer. My family’s close relationship and long history with the Duberrys already makes this a sensitive case. Considering our adversarial positions, I don’t think that’s wise.”
“You do know it’s possible to not mix business with pleasure.”
“I don’t view as pleasurable socializing with the legal counsel bringing a lawsuit against my firm.”
“There are dozens of other things we can discuss besides that.”
“Such as...”
“Life. Current affairs. What you’ve been doing since I last saw you all those years ago.”
“That’s a quick conversation. I’ve been working. Running a company’s legal department leaves little time for anything else.”
“No boyfriend, fiancé, husband, children?”
“None of the above.”
“One of those career women driven to topple all men off the corporate ladder and secure the top rung.”
“I strive to be the best of what I do and knock off all opponents, no matter the gender.”
“A real man-eater,” Victor drawled. “I should have known.”
“Look, I’d love to chitchat, but my workday is not over.”
“Are you preparing a response to my demand letter? Let me save you some time, darling. Have your company write the check.”
“I’m not your darling, sweetie.” Condescension dripped between each consonant and vowel.
“I meant no offense. Didn’t know you were one of those.”
“Those who?”
“Women who feel that to make it in a man’s world, they have to stop being a woman. Women who don’t realize that in actuality the world belongs to them.”
“What if this conversation was with Joel or Patrick? Would you use that endearment in reference to them?”
“That would be a negative...counselor. For either of those two, it would more likely be asshole, chump or dweeb.”
She chuckled, proving he’d lightened the mood as intended. “Chump? I think my grandfather is the last person I heard use that word.”
“You’ve got a cool grandpops.”
“I do, indeed. And for the record, you have no idea who I am.”
A brief, comfortable silence settled between them. When Victor spoke, his words were wrapped in kindness.
“I have the utmost respect for you, Maeve, and for your family. I’ve read up on Eddington Enterprise. The company’s making big moves. The innovative software that’s changing how banks and other financial institutions do business. Your foray into digital currency with the offering E-Squared. The hype was so powerful I bought a block. So far, it’s been a worthwhile investment.
“I guess what I’m saying is we can cut through the chase and save us both time and money. A company as successful as yours probably has what we’re asking for in petty cash.”
“As stated during our earlier meeting, you’ll soon receive a more detailed report documenting our response. Until then, take care, Victor.”
“Until next time.”
Victor walked into the suite’s bedroom and pulled workout clothes from his luggage. Speaking with Maeve stirred up all kinds of pent-up energy. Since he wasn’t into spending time with random women, a jog by the lake would have to suffice as a means to release it.
Five miles, and still he was unable to outrun his thoughts of Maeve. Back in the suite, under a steaming hot shower, mental pictures of her at the meeting taunted him still—her long curly hair, expressive eyes, kissable lips and legs that went on forever.
Crazy to have that kind of effect on him after one short meeting. As much as that bugged him, Victor knew one thing for sure—he couldn’t wait to see her again.
Three
“My goodness, sister, this man is gorgeous!”
Maeve looked over at her sister, Reign, who was checking out online pictures of Victor while sprawled across her king-size four-poster bed.
“I told you he was attractive.”
“Dad’s attractive. Michael B. Jordan is attractive. Regé-Jean Page is super attractive. But this guy... I mean, like...wow.”
“Okay, Reign, be careful. Sounds like you’re about to drool on my spread.”
“Hey, I’m just saying.” She clicked on and enlarged another picture. “Is he as tall as he looks?”
“Around six-four, six-five, I’d imagine. A giant compared to your petite five foot four.”
“Tall, dark and heart-attack handsome. All business protocol and rivalry aside, Maeve, I wouldn’t let this one get away.”
“I’m not interested.” Much. Maeve trounced into a walk-in closet the size of most bedrooms. “Besides, he lives in another country. We had a couple mutual friends in college but since then have traveled in different circles. Our paths haven’t crossed before now in over five years. Once this case is over, it will likely be another five.”
Or fifteen. Or forever. That prospect did not feel good.
“Where’s he from?”
“I think he was born somewhere in the Caribbean. But if not raised in the States, he spent a lot of time here, including all eight or so years it took for him to get his Juris Doctorate.”
“At Harvard with you, right?”
“Same school. Different crowd.”
“Do you think he’ll be at the party tonight?”
“I don’t know.”
But she’d considered it, which is why a small mountain of designer originals was now heaped on the floor. The party being held at the country club was a birthday celebration for Dalia, Cornelius’s sister. Victor being in town on behalf of Cornelius, along with their shared college experience and past friendship, made it likely for him to appear on the guest list. Maeve told herself that whether or not he showed up didn’t matter, that she didn’t want to see him, anyway.
But it did matter. And she wanted to see him. End of story. Bottom line.
“What about this?”
Maeve held up a cranberry-colored, wide-legged jumpsuit, with a cinched belt collar and plunging V-neck.
“It’s cute but...” Reign climbed off the bed and joined Maeve in the dressing room. “You want to wear something that will make a statement. If he’s there, you’ll want to stand out as though you’re the only woman in the room.”
“He, who?”
Reign laughed. “Try that with someone who hasn’t known you her entire life. You’ve never taken this much time to choose an outfit.”
She walked over to a row of gowns, flipped through them and landed on one near the back. “Try on this one.”
Maeve looked at a dress she’d purchased on an international shopping spree and at the dare of a friend. It was spectacular. Black, formfitting, with a spray of crystals going from shoulder to hem. Plunging back. Split exposing almost an entire right leg. The dress with a bodice of mesh and lace was designed to fit a woman’s body like a second skin, but in a material that provided respectability by being non-clingy.
“You don’t think that’s over-the-top?”
Reign gave her a look. “Is there anything too dressy for our crowd, or the club?”
“You’ve got a point.”
“Then it’s settled. This dress.” Reign crossed over to a wall covered with a cubby-holed fixture holding shoes. “And these heels. Keep your jewelry simple. The dress is enough. Let me know if it works for a proper seduction,” she teased as she left the room.
“Where are you going?”
“To get ready, sister. You’re not the only princess attending the ball.”
Reign dressed quickly and looked fabulous in a silver super mini that highlighted her hourglass frame. She returned to the home Maeve had built a year ago, less than a mile from the family’s main mansion, and helped to ensure her sister’s look was complete. Maeve’s thick long curls were piled high atop her head, with errant tendrils left draping her face. She kept makeup minimal—foundation, powder, mascara and gloss.
Once finished, Reign stepped back in appraisal of her masterpiece. “You look amazing, Maeve.”
“Thanks, Reign. You’ve always been more fashionable than me.”
“You got all the smarts. I had to do something.”
“Stop it with that. You can do anything.”
“Anything within the Eddington idea of achievement. Not anything I want.”
Maeve wisely chose to stay silent. Reign had been fighting with their parents for more than a year over her desire to ditch her corporate career for an around-the-world adventure as an influencer with a travel video blog, financed by that “idea of achievement” Reign seemed to eschew.
“You want to ride over together?”
Reign shook her head. “Paul’s coming by to get me.”
Maeve checked her watch. “Then I guess I’ll head over. See you later?”
“Absolutely. Unless you get swept off your feet and whisked away from the party.”
“That has zero chance of happening. I’ll see you there.”
The ballroom had been transformed into a fall fantasy. Colorful silk leaves dotted with crystals that swayed in the air above them on near-invisible strings, creating a fantastical oasis. The ceiling had been draped in gold chiffon, matching the gold leaf sprayed on life-sized ice carvings of the birthday girl Dalia’s favorite celebrities. The music was loud and current. The food, delectable. The drink, nonstop. Maeve easily navigated the familiar crowd, making small talk with the circle of people she’d known since they all were children.
“May I have this dance?”
She’d almost forgotten about Victor, until his voice poured into her ear like molten lava from an active volcano. She braced herself, then turned to face him as the sounds of a slow R&B number with a steady bass beat swirled around them.
“Sure you can handle that?” she asked to cover her own lack of confidence in actually being up for the job.
“I’ll take my chances.”
He reached for her hand, which was quickly enveloped in his much larger one. They stepped onto the already crowded dance floor. He pulled her to him, his manner sure, authoritative, then wrapped his strong, toned arms around her and set up a sensual sway.
“I was hoping to see you tonight,” he whispered, his hot, damp breath causing her skin to tingle.
“Really? Why?”
“You’re my favorite sparring partner.”
His answer was as shocking as it was unexpected. Most of Maeve’s dates were intimidated by her intellect and verbal ability. Here, this guy was acting like such traits were a bonus. He threw her off-kilter. She didn’t like that at all.
“You consider that civil conversation we had during our meeting a fight?”
“No, but I saw enough of your fire to know you can bring it. For me, that doesn’t happen often. I welcome the challenge.”
The song soared to its crescendo. Victor tightened his grip. He smelled good. Looked good. Felt even better. Everything about the man was driving her crazy. Maeve held onto his broad shoulders and her sanity, although with the latter she was less successful than she’d hoped. All she could think about was how long it had been since her last intimate encounter, and how thoroughly she was certain Victor could meet her every erotic demand and supply every need. The song ended. His arms fell away. She felt abandoned. Her body thrummed, hungry with desire. She hid the tumult of rampant emotions behind a casual smile.
“You’ve got moves, I see,” she joked.
“Trust me, darling, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
They parted and for the rest of the night Maeve did what she could to avoid him. His body, though, was like a GPS signal. She could sense his presence when he neared her, could feel his gaze on her skin. At one point in the evening, she found a bistro table in the corner, partially hidden by a wall and tall potted plants. She watched Victor easily command the space around him, saw women fairly swoon when they entered his realm. She rolled her eyes. Clearly, this was not her situation. Even if she fancied a playboy, which she did not, she wouldn’t choose someone garnering such fierce competition that fighting off her detractors would be a full-time job. In the lingo of football, one of her favorite sports, dating someone like Victor would surely be an “L” situation. Better to stay focused on business, the boardroom and the lawsuit, where instead of losing something major, like the case, or her heart, she was sure to pull off a win.
Four
Victor sat at the dining room table of his luxury suite, poring over the mountain of information he’d requested regarding the Duberry case, and the documents included in Maeve’s begrudgingly impressive and thorough initial response. From the evidence he’d been presented with, something clearly did not add up. As thorough as the paperwork seemed, and as upstanding a citizen as Hubert and the sisters appeared, Victor had gotten “a feeling” from the moment they met, shortly after agreeing to take over the case from Cornelius. He couldn’t put his finger on what was bothering him about the facts as he knew them, nor could he find a hole in what she’d presented.
Part of the magic that made Victor such a successful businessman—he never ignored “a feeling.”
