Page 15 of Enemies with Benefits

I shook my head. ‘Go ahead.’

He poured himself a cup, added a dash of cream, and took a seat next to me.

Immediately, his dark woodsy smell engulfed me. The strong, visceral urge to breathe him in made me lift my own cup, hoping the coffee smell would dilute the potency of his scent.

That particular quest became redundant because my gaze was on a mission of its own. It took in the strong fingers lifting the cup to his lips for a large gulp, then followed the lines of his throat as he swallowed. The play of his powerful thighs as he crossed his legs and set the cup and saucer on his knee.

‘First things first, did you come across the clause we talked about?’

His assumption that I’d gone looking set my teeth on edge. But I answered anyway. ‘No, I didn’t. We must be looking at different documents because there’s nothing in my copy of the contract to support what you’re saying.’

Jasper’s hazel gaze narrowed on me for a tight, long stretch. Then he set his cup down, rose and crossed to his desk. When he returned with a sleek laptop, my heart lurched, then dropped to my toes as he fired up the machine. A few taps and he turned the screen to face me.

‘Perry signed this document down the corridor in my conference room three months ago. It was duly witnessed, and I couriered him a copy for his records. The break clause in question is on page forty-seven.’

With not quite steady hands, I placed my cup on the coffee table and took the laptop. I wanted to blurt out that the presence of the break clause didn’t change anything. But I couldn’t delude myself. Break clauses were notoriously costly and I suspected Bingham would end up shouldering the burden if I didn’t play my cards right.

That outlandish idea that struck me five minutes ago returned, more forcefully, as I read the document. It looked similar to my copy except for the crucial page missing from mine.

‘Why is this one different from mine?’

Jasper didn’t answer immediately. He drained his coffee before glancing my way. ‘Negotiations with your brother weren’t...smooth. He insisted on renegotiating several contracts before things were finalised.’

Given Perry’s debilitated state, I wasn’t surprised. But a question had been gnawing at me since I became aware of this deal. ‘Why Bingham’s? There are literally thousands of companies out there you could’ve partnered with. Why us?’

His lips firmed. ‘You mean considering our family history?’

He wasn’t beating about the bush. I didn’t see why I should. ‘Yes.’

‘Would you believe me if I said that ultimately didn’t factor into my decision?’

Who was he kidding? ‘No, I wouldn’t.’

He sighed. ‘Didn’t think so. Wren, if you’re asking then I’m going to presume Perry didn’t tell you.’

‘Tell me what?’

Hazel eyes locked on to mine, pinned me in place. ‘That he begged me for this deal. He pretty much stalked me for the better part of three months before I even agreed to meet with him. I was all set to go with someone else.’

A flush of shame crept up from my belly and soon engulfed my whole body. I’d seen the books. We were in a precarious financial position. But we weren’t crawling-on-our-bellies desperate. Yet. Not enough for Perry to beg for scraps from our sworn enemy. ‘I’m not sure why he did that—’

‘Aren’t you?’ Jasper’s expression was entirely cynical.

Pride swarmed through me. ‘No, we’re not destitute. I’m not going to lower myself to prove it to you. You’ll have to take my word for it.’

He frowned. ‘No need to be so defensive. I’m simply relating things as they happened. For whatever reason your brother wanted this deal to happen.’

‘Then why did he drag his feet?’

Jasper’s lips twisted. ‘At least you’re admitting he did.’

I handed him back his laptop. ‘Clearly he wasn’t satisfied with something. I’ve looked at the projections. We supply you with everything from gambling tables and staff to tea towels and garden fertiliser but see very little profit for twelve months? Why the hell should I come on board with something like that?’

His gaze hardened and I caught a glimpse of Hugh Mortimer, the adversary my father had faced—and lost to—decades ago. Was Jasper his father’s son in every sense of the word? Whatever. I didn’t intend to stick around to find out.

‘Because he signed on the dotted line. It’s too late to back out now. This project has been delayed by months already. I won’t let it suffer another setback,’ he said grimly.

I rose from the sofa, gathered my tablet and briefcase as calmly as I could, despite the roiling in my stomach. I’d seen the books. Our company was haemorrhaging money, yes, but we still had substantial assets to hold back the dam for a while. ‘I’ll look over your papers and get back to you.’

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