Page 13 of Burning Bridges

Chapter 8

LEO

I'mintheparkinglot of Queen of Hearts, one of our more elite clubs, with a half-finished cigarette pressed to my lips when a fire-engine-red Ferrari pulls into the lot. It's nice enough to keep my attention, being the newest model, but whoever the driver is should know better than to park in our private lot.

I was called here tonight after an earlier security breach. Our internal systems, which hold all the information about our clients, were hacked. If news got out about the issue, it would bring a lot of bad publicity to the club, and we could lose some of our valued clients. The reason this club works so well, and our patrons pay top dollar, is because we keep everything confidential. Jett assures me he has it under control now. He might be a professional MMA fighter, but he's a real whiz when it comes to computers. He was the one who worked out that there was someone in our system and was able to block them before any real damage was done.

I watch as the driver opens the door, revealing long legs in black pumps. The owner swings her legs to the side and pulls herself up to standing in the tight leather skirt she's wearing. I let my eyes travel leisurely up the rest of her body, taking in her tiny waist and full breasts scarcely concealed in sheer black lace. Red lips turn up in a smirk when she notices me checking her out, and I almost do a double take when I realize it's not just some girl with an expensive car and a scorching-hot body—it's Piper. She's gorgeous tonight, and that's fucking dangerous, particularly when my pulse races wildly at the sight of her like it is right now.

I approach her, moving my eyes to her wheels. "Oh, Princess. What did you do, rob a bank?" I run a hand over the shiny paintwork, inhaling the new-car scent. "Very nice."

She closes the door with a flick of her hip and presses the fob to lock up. Her eyes rake over me, a hint of amusement playing on her features. There is something different about her tonight. I can't quite work out what it is yet, but something tells me that whatever it is, I'm not going to like it. She looks too pleased to see me, and after I made it pretty damn clear yesterday that I wasn't interested in rehashing anything from the past, I thought she would have kept her distance for a while. "You would like that, wouldn't you? If my life had become so sad that I had to resort to robbing banks so I can drive the kind of vehicle I deserve." She walks toward the club's back door like she's supposed to be here.

"Where do you think you're going?" I ask.

She looks over her shoulder. "To your office, with you," she says with absolute certainty. I have to hand it to her; she has more balls than most men I know.

We engage in a silent standoff, our eyes challenging each other to push a little further. She takes the cigarette from my hand and places it in her mouth, taking a long drag. Her pretty red lips make all sorts of promises, and I find myself wanting her more than ever before. And she knows it. I take the cigarette back from her, tasting her lipstick on the filter. It gives me ideas I shouldn’t be having about this woman. I take one final drag before I put it out on the wall beside her.

"As much as I would love to play out whatever fantasy this is for you, I'm busy tonight, Princess," I say, just because I can. I don't care who she is or how turned on I am right now. No one comes into my club and demands to see me, even if they look as smoking hot as she does this evening.

Her grip tightens on her handbag, and her nails, the same color as her car, dig into the black leather. "I need to talk to you. It can't wait," she bites out, desperation in her voice. It's very unlike her to show any weakness at all, and I can't say I'm not a little curious.

I close the gap between us so there are only inches separating our faces, and I reach my hand around the back of her head, gripping her ponytail with force so I can tilt her head back, making her look deep into my eyes. I want to show her who's in charge here. "Is that how you talk to me?" My voice is deep and gravelly. I didn't expect how thrilling it would feel to have her restrained, looking up at me so helpless. But there's something about this that makes me feel alive in a way I haven't in so long. I want her pinned beneath me as I fuck her senseless. A thought that I know will get me in trouble.

With our bodies so close, I feel the rise and fall of her chest as she sucks in a shallow breath. She doesn't hate me as much as she pretends. Or if she does, her body doesn't agree. My little princess here is all hot and bothered by me manhandling her. "Please, Leo, I just need five minutes of your time, then I'll be out of your way." I can see how much it kills her to have to ask me nicely. I would love to make her beg. Nothing would please me more than Piper Acevedo on her knees, pleading with me to give her what she wants.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" I release her hair, letting her stumble back, surprised. "Normally, no one gets through this door without a pat down, but if you're carrying, you're doing a damn good job of hiding it in that scrap of fabric. Did you dress up just for me, sweetheart?"

She straightens her shoulders and fixes her hair, smoothing the long ponytail so it hangs perfectly down her spine, just the way it did when she first stepped out of her car. "Don't flatter yourself, Rivera. I don't dress for anyone but myself."

I give her a look that tells her I know that's bullshit. No woman goes to this much trouble for herself, but I'm not complaining. She might be a thorn in my side, but she's a pretty one. And I could do with something nice to look at after the night the boys and I had.

I push open the door and nod at our guard. "You can go first. You know the way to my office," I tell her, watching as she saunters through. If she's in front of me, I can see her every move, the way her fitted skirt clings to her curves and shows off her fantastic ass. There's also no chance of her stabbing me in the back. She gives me an uneasy glance over her shoulder before making her way down the long corridor to the back stairs that lead to the second-floor mezzanine. This is where the club's private rooms and offices are located. The first floor houses the main bar and dance floor. Most of our patrons only ever make it to the first floor, but those willing to pay get a more exclusive experience.

She makes it to my office and tries the door, finding it locked. "I guess you know your way around this place pretty well," I say.

She turns back to me, waiting impatiently. "You know I helped Tony design the place, Rivera. Don't be a dick," she mutters, unimpressed by my comment. It must sting to know she didn't get to run this place the way she would have liked.

And I did know that. I watched her agonize over the details while her brother made her feel like shit for every decision she made. I never understood why she followed him around like a little puppy, doing everything he asked her to, when he was such an asshole to her. She is the strongest woman I know, but with Ace around, she was just his little sister. I unlock the door and let her pass before closing it again.

She glances around the space, a smile tugging at her lips. "You kept it the same," she says, surprised but pleased.

"I liked what you did," I admit, but what I don't tell her is I liked what she did because it was her who designed it. It wouldn't have mattered how hideous the room was. Luckily for me, she has exceptional taste. The walls are charcoal, the furniture black leather and dark-stained mahogany. For lighting, each office space has its own variation of a vintage-style chandelier. It's moody and dark, just like her, and has become my home away from home because I work here so much.

“Tony hated it,” she says with a bitterness that surprises me. She had always appeared to adore her brother, hanging off his every word like he was some sort of god.

“I know.” He wasn’t exactly shy in hiding his feelings.

She takes a seat on the leather couch, crossing one long leg over the other. I go to the minibar and pour a whiskey. “Drink?” I raise a brow.

Until last week when she invited me to her house so she could fix up her outstanding payment, we have kept things all business. She was icy toward me, and I was cold-hearted toward her. It worked for me perfectly, but when I had to pull her mother from that bath and I turned to see the look on Piper’s face, something changed. She was that scared girl I once fell for, and now I can’t unsee it. Every time I have seen her since, I can see how vulnerable she is, and it makes me want to step in and protect her. I have taken to driving by her place on my way here and again on my way home just to check on her. She’s all alone in this world. Every other family member dead. Yeah, she has her ex-husband looking over her shoulder, but that’s not the same as real family. He was never the right guy for her. She knew it when she was fifteen just as surely as the day she married him.

If it were up to me, that wedding would have never taken place, but I was sent out of town on a job that weekend. William knew what I would have done if I was here. Maybe he was right to send me away. Our plan wouldn’t have played out the way it did if I had my way. He taught me patience, and he was right. But it didn’t mean the thought of her marrying Axel didn’t kill me. And finding out she was carrying his child was even worse.

She glances at the cut-crystal decanter in my hand like she is trying to decide if having a drink with me is a smart idea. It’s also not vodka. I can tell her it’s not the best idea, but we both know she will do whatever the hell she wants anyway. “Sure,” she agrees.

I pour us both a drink and come to sit in the armchair across from her, handing her the tumbler. Our fingers brush as she takes it from me, and for a split second, I see a flash of heat. Something is definitely different with her tonight. Her guard is down. Maybe last week changed something for her as well?

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