security team crush you. And rest assured, I will press charges. Trespassing. Stalking. I’m in fear for my life right now.”
I wanted to fight, I realized. The choreographed kickboxing hadn’t quelled the bloodlust I’d kept locked down all day.
“Emily, Emily, Emily,” he tutted. “How will tasing an employee and parading them naked out of your house help your predicament?” He reached out and toyed with the strap of my bra. The brush of his finger against my still sweaty skin ignited something that felt hot like rage but meltier. Slicker.
“Employee?” I sounded like I was being choked.
“I’m Derek Price from Alpha Group. The man hired to help you keep your company.”
Fuck.
Jane ninja rolled into the bathroom from the terrace, landing in a crouch and pointing her stun gun at the naked man.
“Wow.” It was as effusive as Jane got.
“Focus more on the criminal aspect than the dick, Jane,” I reminded her when her brown eyes roamed south from his well-formed chest to what looked like several decadent inches of pure sin.
“I’m multi-tasking,” she insisted.
Derek grinned at her and stepped around me, irresponsibly disinterested in the weapon pointed at him and the curling iron I still wielded. At the bar cart, he poured two fingers of scotch into three glasses.
“Who the hell are you?” I demanded.
He pushed a glass into my hand.
“I believe I mentioned that I’m Derek Price,” he said again. “I’m the fixer your board hired to clean up your mess. Imani can verify.”
Double fuck.
“So you show up here, break into my house, and take a bath?”
“What’s for dinner?” Frank, the parrot that never shut up, squawked grumpily from the palm outside.
“Shut up, Frank,” Jane and I said together.
“You dodged my calls all day. And one thing you don’t have in this…” Those ocean blue eyes skimmed my body from head to toe and back again. “Situation,” he decided, “is time. Now that I have your attention, we can get started.”
I opened my mouth and closed it again.
Using two fingers, he nudged the glass in my hand to my mouth. I swallowed reflexively.
“Good girl. You have another billion dollars on the line and the reputation of a company you built with your own two lovely hands. My job is to make sure you get everything you’ve worked for. Your job is to listen to me and do everything I say.”
“Good luck with that,” Jane scoffed from her crouch.
Still naked, Derek picked up one of the remaining glasses from the cart and handed it to Jane. She accepted it with her stun gun-free hand.
“This isn’t happening,” I whispered.
“I’m pretty sure this is happening,” Jane insisted, looking at his cock again. She took a drink. “Yep. Definitely happening.”
Obligingly, Derek picked up the third glass and did a slow turn. God. His ass was the most perfect guy-butt I’d ever seen in my entire life. And I loathed him for it. What a waste of an ass like that on an asshole.
He held out his hand. “Phone.”
It was the cock. Or the ass. Or those blue, blue eyes. Whatever it was, I was hypnotized. I dropped the curling iron and handed over my cell phone.
His thumbs flew over the screen, and then he handed it back. “There. Now I’m in your phone. When I call, you answer.”
“When you call, I answer?” I repeated with disdain. I wanted to smash my phone into his perfect face.
None of this was happening. My carefully curated life was not suddenly spiraling out of control, dancing dangerously close to the drain. I’d just worked too hard, and now I was hallucinating.
He leaned in so close that I could feel the heat pumping off his damp skin. Oh, God. I didn’t have the imagination to hallucinate this well.
“If you don’t, you’ll lose everything,” he said.
“So he’s legit?” Jane asked as I hung up the phone.
My father wasn’t responding to my calls. He was probably still in the air. But I did get another director on the phone, and she assured me icily that Derek Price was indeed my new guardian angel and babysitter.
“It would appear so.”
I sank down at the kitchen bar and watched listlessly as Jane poured two shots of something.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Fireball,” she said. “Borrowed it from Daisy. Kind of comforting to know that billions of dollars still can’t buy a sophisticated palate. That girl has the best worst taste in booze.”
She handed me a shot glass, and for the second time that night, I drank on command.
“So here’s the plan,” Jane said. “You