“He ran the company for over half a century, and he didn’t take a day off—not even Christmas—until he ended up in the hospital on his deathbed. Even then, he asked for reports to be brought in. Less than an hour before he passed, he summoned his family members and gave them specific instructions about how he wanted the company run. There were no warm goodbyes. Instead, he was trying to convey his vision to those of us who would carry on.”
Rafe’s story was a bleak reminder that he might lose everything if he didn’t find a wife, soon. “I’ll…er…do the dishes.” She wadded her napkin and tossed it on a plate.
“No need. My housekeeper, Sienna, will be here later.”
“Housekeeper?” She couldn’t keep the note of wistfulness out of her voice. That sounded like pure luxury. Still, she rinsed the dishes, then stacked them in the sink before putting away the unused food.
“We make a good team.”
She didn’t want to make a good team with a man who belonged to another woman.
“Five minutes?” he asked.
“I’ll be ready.” In fact, she was anxious to leave now. While he climbed the stairs to the second story, she crossed the room to look out the window. Because it was still dark, her reflection bounced back at her—untidy hair with tendrils curling against her neck, arms folded with her hands on her shoulders.
Hope didn’t recognize herself. Her eyes had lost some innocence. She was now a woman who knew something about BDSM, and more, had learned about herself, what she liked, what she wanted. Regular sex—the kind that had bored her—would no longer be okay. She craved the excitement, the unknown, the bite of pain, the strain of being on her knees, waiting.
Rafe was ready in less than five minutes, and she met him at the bottom of the stairs. She stood in front of him. The cut of his suit coat was exquisite, tailored to fit his broad shoulders but also emphasize his lean waist. His shirt was crisp and white, and his dark gray tie had silver swirls, something of a cross between a paisley and the yin-yang symbol.
The emeralds in his ring winked in the overhead light, a stark reminder that he belonged to an exclusive and secret group of people who wanted to run more than their own companies.
She was a matchmaker, the daughter of a nurse and a soldier, from humble beginnings. She might spend time with Houston’s rich and somewhat famous, but she was an outsider, someone who provided them with a much-valued service.
“Shall we?”
Outside, he helped her into his car, and again, the seat cradled her as if designed for her. He programmed in the address she provided before easing into traffic. While they drove through the quiet streets, his cell phone rang, and Celeste’s name showed up on the car’s display screen.
“Do you mind if I take it?”
Curious, she responded, “Not at all.”
Surprising her, he answered on the car’s audio system. “Morning, Celeste. Say good morning to Hope Malloy.”
There was no pause before Celeste responded, “Well, hello, Hope.”
Hope shot him a wilting glance. There had been no reason to acknowledge her presence.
“I’m driving Hope home.”
“Very good.”
Was it too much to wish that the seat would swallow her? Rafe seemed oblivious to Hope’s discomfort.
Always one to focus on business, Celeste continued. “Are you free to talk?”
“Yes.”
Hope expected him to switch to a headset, but he didn’t.
“Noah telephoned me last night.”
“Did he?”
Hope pulled out her cell phone and pretended to be interested in reading her email. The truth was, she didn’t see a word on the screen.
“Yes, along with other directors on the steering committee.”
Hope slid a glance toward him. Was Celeste talking about the Titans? Hope shook her head. That the secret society was real, with a steering committee and intrigue, took her aback. And that he hadn’t made the call confidential was even more startling.
“And the purpose of his call?”
“To suggest your father be removed from his position.”
Rafe’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
“He’s recommending himself as the replacement. On the grounds that Theodore isn’t performing his required duties. He missed a phone conference call yesterday. With no apologies or acknowledgment that he’d received an invitation. Judge Anderson had us hold while he attempted to reach your dad.”