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  He leaned in close again and she stiffened her spine, forcing herself not to withdraw. He whispered in her ear, “There are consequences for your actions. I hope you can live with them.”

  His scent surrounded her, and a mixture of fear and arousal caused a faint tremor to rattle through her system.

  “I can live with them, as long as they get me away from you,” she whispered back. His mouth was inches away from hers, and her bottom lip tingled with the inexplicable urge to kiss him.

  “Well, I guess I’ve been told. I should slink away with my tail between my legs, since I’ve been utterly defeated.” The corners of his mouth curved even higher. “Enjoy the rest of your meal.”

  Before she guessed his intent, Cyrus placed a firm hand at her waist and pulled her into him. The impact with his hard body sent a shockwave of hunger straight to her core. Placing a hand on his arm, she leaned back from him.

  “Cyrus.” Her voice should have been a firm dismissal. Instead it came out breathless and trembling.

  He pressed his mouth to hers and she gasped, taken by surprise. Cyrus didn’t make public displays of affection. He’d never held her hand or even given her a peck on the cheek in the presence of others. The most he’d ever done was place a hand at the base of her spine, a comforting gesture meant to show they were together or to guide her in the direction he wanted so he could introduce her to so-and-so from such-and-such a company.

  This was not about affection, though. The kiss informed her and Roland of his intentions toward her. It was nothing but a stamp, forcing her to accept to whom she belonged. His mouth pressed hard into hers, and then he swiped the tip of his tongue just inside her lips before lifting his head.

  She barely noticed the other customers openly staring at them. Her swamped senses buzzed from the contact. The kiss was so short. It couldn’t have lasted more than two seconds, three at the most. Yet every single cell in her body screamed for more.

  “How dare you,” she said, trying to save face. She lifted a hand to her throbbing mouth.

  Cyrus let his hand slide along her waist and down her hip before letting her go. He didn’t take his gaze from her, and she saw the moment something shifted and unshakeable resolve entered his eyes. “Time’s up,” he repeated, his voice rough around the edges.

  He walked away and left her standing there, a bit disoriented, a bit confused. He was out of sight before she realized she’d been holding her breath. What alarmed her even more was her own lack of action. Not once had she considered, much less tried, to pull away.

  “Are you all right?”

  She jumped when Roland touched her arm. She’d forgotten he was there, completely consumed by Cyrus’s presence. She could still feel the heat from his hand on the curve of her hip.

  “I’m fine,” she mumbled.

  He’d said her time was up. If she didn’t do as he demanded, he would retaliate against her. But how? What could he possibly do?

  Now was a waiting game. One where she had to wait to see what the ramifications of her actions would be.

  Chapter Seven

  Daniella unlocked the doors to Beaux-Arts Galleries, located along a tree-lined street in downtown Ballard where historic storefronts remained intact. She had managed to carve out a popular showroom that over the past few years had emerged as a coveted venue for both new and established artists.

  Walking down the avenue, a visitor easily gained an impression of what the area might have been like back in the late 1800’s when it was first settled and filled with lumber mills. The quaint neighborhood contained stylish boutiques, restaurants, coffee shops, and other galleries. Every second Saturday, a Chamber of Commerce-sponsored art walk brought visitors to the neighborhood and provided exceptional foot traffic which had helped her business grow. Beaux-Arts not only sold prints and original paintings to the general public, she and her two salespersons consulted with businesses that wanted to freshen their décor. They also worked with private collectors who viewed art as not only a decoration, but an investment as well.

  Her business was couched between a glass-blowing studio on one side and a handmade jewelry store on the other. Across the street, an independent bookstore sat crammed full of books. She liked to go there sometimes on her break and browse the shelves. She’d found a gem once—an old edition of Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. She hadn’t been able to resist adding it to her small collection of rare titles. Purchasing it had been a splurge for sure, back when she had money to spend on such things. Nowadays most of her disposable income went toward fighting Cyrus.

  The gallery was closed today because she and her staff would be welcoming three groups of underprivileged kids at different times during the day to the gallery to learn more about the world of art and to create their own paintings. It was something they did once a year, but she’d love to do it more often.

  All of her employees gladly participated. In addition to the three salespersons, she employed an office manager, a framer, and an in-house portrait painter. If her plans went well, she’d soon have Beaux-Arts Deux, a New York location, which would employ a gallery director, five salespersons, two framers, and an office manager. She had been tweaking her business plan for months but still hadn’t approached the bank. New York could make or break her business, and though she hadn’t admitted it to anyone, she worried about being able to succeed there.

  While she waited for her staff to arrive to help her set up, Daniella looked at the contract from the Manhattan hotel owner who wanted her to provide artwork to complement their new color scheme in the next few months. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for to expand her business. With this contract in hand, she would be able to go to the bank and show she would have money coming in, which meant she could lease the Manhattan space she’d had her eye on. Last she’d checked, no one had taken over the lease, but it would only be a matter of time. Even in a down market, prime properties there didn’t last long.

  She sat back in the chair. Why didn’t she feel more satisfaction at this accomplishment? There was a time when the idea of having a New York office had made her tingle from head to toe. While getting this contract was a victory for sure, the excitement she expected hadn’t manifested. Maybe because she didn’t have the space yet.

  The front door bell rang, but she ignored it. It wasn’t unusual for prints to be delivered on the weekend, but she wasn’t expecting any today. When the person at the front leaned on the buzzer for a long time, though, she could no longer ignore the sound and left her office to walk up front.

  Roland stood outside. She quickly opened the door to him, taking in the distress on his face. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Lines of strain bracketed his mouth. “I lost my position at BoldMine.”

  Her eyes widened. “What? You’re the chief technology officer. Your work is invaluable, and they need you.”

  She repeated what he’d told her in the past. He’d been with the start-up company from the beginning, working closely with the two brothers who made up the other chief officers. The injection of cash from their new private investor would help the company enhance the features of its inventory software and increase its business development partnerships with key players in the manufacturing industry. This was the chance he’d been waiting for.

  “Apparently, they don’t need me,” he said bitterly. “The investor purchased a majority stake in our firm, and the next thing I knew, I was removed as CTO. I received my marching papers last night.” He thrust a dismissal letter at her.

  “Only you?” Daniella took the correspondence, feeling terrible for him. Just a week ago at The Savory Date, she’d warned him about celebrating too soon, but he certainly wouldn’t appreciate hearing “I told you so.” To be honest, this was worse than anything she’d imagined.

  “Just me,” Roland confirmed in the same acidic-sounding voice.

  Daniella scanned the paper and right away recognized the name of the company that had made the investment.

 
; “Oh no.” Her stomach plummeted as nausea buffeted her insides, and she almost dropped the sheet. Even if she hadn’t recognized the company name, the bold signature at the bottom would have given her all the information she needed. She couldn’t stop staring at the words.

  Roland stated the obvious. “Your husband’s venture capitalist firm bought a majority stake in our company and had me dismissed.”

  Her gaze met Roland’s. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I can’t see you anymore, Daniella. I’m done.” She’d never seen Roland angry, yet from his tone he clearly blamed her for the current turn of events. But he had contacted her, not the other way around.

  “Roland, I swear to you, if I’d known—”

  He held up his hand. “Save it. If I’d known this would be the result of being seen with you, I would have never gotten involved. I’ve lost everything. Everything I’ve worked for over the past seven years.”

  She couldn’t imagine the anguish he must be experiencing after expecting to see all his hard work pay off, only to be blindsided by this unexpected disaster. “I’m sorry.” She sounded like a broken record, but she didn’t know what else to say.

  “So am I,” he said, his face contorted into a bitter scowl. “I’m going to give Cyrus what he wanted in the first place. I won’t be contacting you again, and please don’t contact me.”

  She grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, detaining him. “Wait, there must be something I can do, some way I can help you.”

  “You really want to help me?” he asked. “Get me my goddamn business back.”

  Daniella watched as he left. Numb, she clutched the letter in her hand. She had to see Cyrus, and she had to make him stop.

  ****

  Cyrus lived northwest of downtown in one of the most popular neighborhoods in the Seattle area and had bought his house before he married Daniella. The location suited him, being close to the city for a quick commute, and its location on a hill was conducive to his weekend exercise regimen. On any given Saturday he could be found jogging the tree-lined streets past the historic homes that dotted the landscape. He ran in peace here. In this affluent area, his neighbors barely registered his presence, for which he was grateful.

  He hadn’t exercised today because he’d recently arrived home after a short business trip to Las Vegas. He was tired as hell, but nothing could have kept him from his niece’s ninth birthday party. He came straight from the airport, still dressed in the suit he’d donned earlier for the weekend meeting with a hotelier who owned several casinos. They were interested in making Full Moon beer the exclusive brand they carried, with the possibility to expand around the country. Cyrus was pretty sure he’d sealed the deal and expected a follow up within a few weeks, at which time he’d bring in his brother, Trenton, to cover the marketing side of the arrangement.

  Cyrus parked his car in the garage and dropped his bags at the foot of the stairs. Without prompting, one of the servants appeared and took the bags up to his bedroom.

  Gift in hand, he headed to the pool house. His niece, Katie, had wanted a pool party, and initially Ivy—his only sister—had planned to have it at the Four Seasons Hotel where they lived. Then she’d changed her mind and asked him if she could have it at his place instead, to which he’d readily agreed.

  He was crazy about his niece and hoped one day to fill his house with children as energetic and intelligent as she was. Her birth had brought so much happiness to the family, particularly since she’d arrived only months after his father died. In some ways, she had saved their family, shaking them out of the deep-rooted sadness at having lost their father so unexpectedly.

  At the pool house he encountered a bunch of 8 and 9-year-old girls running and splashing in the water. Besides Ivy, two other mothers kept an eye on the screaming prepubescents. As he approached, one of the girls stood poised on the diving board and did a graceful dive into the water, receiving a series of enthusiastic cheers and claps from her friends.

  Music from the latest pop sensation blared from the external speakers. Hired help was on hand to assist with the food prep and serving, and when the girls grew tired and wanted to relax, the pool house contained plenty of seating and an entertainment center to keep them busy for hours with music, videos, and games.

  Cyrus took a seat, and before he announced his presence, Katie saw him.

  “Uncle Cyrus!” she screamed. She separated from her group of friends and scampered over, dripping wet, her long braids weighted down with water and trailing behind her.

  “Katie, you’ll get him wet,” Ivy cautioned, waving her hands in an effort to stop her, but Katie was undeterred. She flung her arms around his neck, soaking his jacket with pool water.

  Ivy came over, a chastising frown on her face.

  “It’s okay,” Cyrus told his sister. He squeezed Katie with one arm around her tiny waist. “Happy birthday,” he murmured.

  She pulled back and grinned. “Thank you.” Unable to contain her excitement, she hopped from one foot to the next, eyeing the wrapped box in his hand. She already knew what he’d brought. Last year, he’d promised to get it for her. “Is that for me?”

  “Is there another birthday girl here?” he teased.

  She giggled and shook her head vigorously. Droplets of water from her hair dripped onto his handmade leather shoes. “I’m the only one.”

  “Then I guess it’s yours.”

  She snatched the box and turned to Ivy. “Can I open it now? I don’t want to wait to open it with my other presents.”

  “Yes, you may.”

  The words had barely left her mother’s mouth before Katie tore into the colored paper and torn fragments were floating to the ground. She opened the box and pulled out the gold-plated cell phone that lay inside. Her eyes widened to double their normal size. Because purple was her favorite color, he’d had amethysts added around the frame as a surprise.

  Holding up the phone so her mother could see, she squealed, “Mommy, look!”

  “I see,” Ivy said dryly. Now she directed her disapproval at Cyrus.

  Katie flung her arms around him again and kissed his cheek. He held onto her tiny body just as tight. She smelled like chlorine and the sweetness of little girls her age. “Thank you so much. I love you, Uncle Cyrus.”

  He kissed her temple. “Love you, too, Munchkin.”

  She grinned and ran toward her friends to show off her gift.

  “Don’t get it wet,” Ivy called after her.

  “It’s water proof,” Cyrus said.

  “Of course it is.” Ivy placed both hands on her hips. “I try to keep her grounded and you do your best to spoil her.”

  He shrugged. “What are you worried about? You’re doing a fine job. She’s a great kid.”

  “Well, still…” Ivy demurred, obviously pleased by the comment. “Did you have to buy her something so extravagant?”

  “That’s what uncles do. Besides, Mother and Father gave us extravagant gifts, and we turned out fine.”

  “We did?” She arched an eyebrow and a faint smile came to her lips. “You’re spoiled.”

  “I like nice things. That’s not the same as being spoiled.” Cyrus rose to his feet. Their father used to tell them they should never let anyone make them feel ashamed for enjoying the fruits of their labor, and he wholeheartedly agreed. He worked hard, and he should be allowed to indulge in the luxuries that came with their level of wealth.

  Knowing it was a waste of time to argue with him, Ivy pursed her lips. “Thank you. I know how much you love her and she adores you.” She came closer and studied him. “You okay? You look tired.”

  “I am tired,” he admitted, rolling his neck. “But I have more work to do before I can take a break.”

  “When was the last time you had a vacation? You can’t keep up this pace.”

  “Says who?”

  She sighed wearily, as if talking to an obstinate child. “You need to take care of yourself. You’re not indestructible. Remember what happened be
fore.”

  Of all his siblings, Ivy was definitely the biggest worrier. Perhaps it was the nurturing part of her personality, but she always wanted to make sure everyone else was doing okay. It had been years since the incident she referenced, but Ivy was prone to bringing it up. During a short period in his life, he’d become vulnerable, and he’d much prefer to forget it and never go through the experience again.

  “I’m fine. I eat right and I exercise.”

  “Rest has to be part of the equation, too.”

  “I’ll rest when I’m dead,” he said, to which she frowned. He changed the subject. The conversation about working too hard had been belabored to death. “Did Trenton stop by?”

  “He did and gave Katie her gift.”

  “So he actually made time.”

  “I think he realized he didn’t have a choice after the tongue-lashing you gave him when he said he didn’t have time to attend a child’s birthday party. And just so you know, Xavier called and wished her a happy birthday.” Xavier was the second oldest.

  “Glad to know he took a minute from saving the world to make his niece happy. What about your twin?”

  Ivy’s eyes clouded over. “We didn’t hear from him.”

  That response displeased Cyrus. Gavin could have spared a few minutes to call his niece. Cyrus had also been annoyed when Ivy told him Gavin didn’t know if he could make it to her engagement party. Whatever Gavin was doing was not nearly as important as making sure Katie experienced all the attention she deserved on her special day or making Ivy happy on hers.

  “Finally, another man,” a relieved male voice said behind him. Cyrus turned to see Lucas, his sister’s fiancé and Katie’s father, coming toward them with a grocery sack in his hand. “I was hoping when I came back from the store there’d be another man here. Tell me you’re staying.”

  Lucas lived in Atlanta, but he visited Seattle often. At first, Cyrus hadn’t cared for him, suspecting he could be one of the many users who came into their lives, but he’d turned out to not be so bad after all. Not only had he been good for Ivy, his relationship with Katie had grown strong. Based on his treatment of them, he’d earned Cyrus’s respect, and he had to give the man credit for keeping such a good attitude despite the initial opposition from Cyrus to having him in their lives.