Page 10 of Lust

"Can't. Expensive suit. Just got it back from the tailor."

"It'll definitely be worth more with your blood splattered all over it."

Annoyingly, he just laughs, which only makes me scowl even harder.

"I'm going to ask you again," I hiss, "what do you want?"

"Leanne sent me to give you this. You forgot to pick it up." He holds up a thick binder with Leanne's logo on the front cover. I'm sure it is filled with the swatches and paint samples that she painstakingly picked out for me.

My fingers itch to grab for it. I'm been waiting all day to see her ideas. I just didn't expect that I'd have to deal with Matthias Baxter to get to it. "I didn't forget it. I had to get out of these because... as I said, there was a bad smell."

He lifts his arm and gives his armpit a sniff. If my memory serves me right, he's getting a nose full ofAventus by Creed. Too bad he didn't swallow the bottle and poison himself.

"Actually, I smell divine. Want a sniff? Maybe your last nose job affected your olfactory nerves."

My foot itches on the ground to swing at his shin. But that would mean touching him. "Big word for such a small brain."

"Oh, darling, it's the only small thing about me."

Okay, that's fucking enough. I reach over to grab the folder but just as my fingers touch its edge, he takes a step back. And a step for Matthias, who towers over me at six foot six inches, is a big fucking step.

I refuse to let go of my swatches, however, and for my trouble I fall on him, my face flat against his chest.

And I was right.

He still smells just like ambergris and Moroccan jasmine, and it is fucking divine.

"Well, well, well, Clarissa. If you wanted me to hug you, all you had to do was ask."

With a hand against his firm chest, I push myself away from him, taking the folder with me as I stand up. "Matthias Baxter, I wouldn't want you to touch me, if you were the only man alive, and your touch saved me from a flesh-eating bacterium that killed off everyone else on this earth by gnawing their skin off an inch at a time."

He grins, sticks his fingers into his mouth, and blows, letting out a loud dog whistle. A car pulls out from the curb and drives up to us. Grabbing my arms, he pulls me toward the car, and opens the back seat door. "Rissie, you're not going to get a cab at this time." He leans into the car. "Kevin, please take Ms. Masters wherever she wants to go. But don't take any money she gives you. It could be laced with arsenic."

"I don't need a ride," I shout, even though I do.

"Then why were you trying to get a taxi?" He's got me there. "Take the ride. Consider it an apology for telling everyone we were almost siblings-in-law."

The reminder stings. I'd had a relatively quiet existence here with no one really knowing who I was. And now he's announced it to one of the friendliest but most chatty people in town.

"Am I supposed to thank you for the ride?" I hiss, the rudeness surprising even myself. "Because, as far as I remember, Matthias, you've never done anything for anyone out of the goodness of your heart."

He locks his eyes on me, pinning me against the car, his hand on my chin, stopping me from looking away. "You don't know anything about me. Not a fucking thing. But if you're going to know one thing, it's this. I don't take kindly to someone attacking my company or my family. And you did both. That doesn't bode well for you, darling." He pulls away from me. "And no, I don't expect anything from you, Clarissa Masters, except to be everything you've always been."

He walks away, smirking. "You can close the car door yourself. Unlike poor Halifax in there, I'm not a fucking simp," he calls out as he throws his suit jacket over his shoulder and disappears down the street.

And as I climb into his car, slamming the door, I can only hope it's the last I will see of Matthias Baxter.

Chapter 6

Matthias

Fouryearsago,ourgrandfather passed away leaving express instructions with the company's board of directors that he wanted my brothers and I to retain our positions as the regional directors of Baxter Enterprises, me in North America; Kylian, the youngest Baxter brother, in Asia; Damien heading up the Australia and Oceanic region; and Kingsley, the eldest, in Europe. And for Uncle Douchebag Gerry, to be the interim CEO until Kingsley turns forty-two.

Gerry is a fucktard with no business acumen or talent. He rides on everyone else's coattails and never takes responsibility for his bad calls. We are all convinced that he was adopted at birth, considering he neither looks like any of us nor has any integrity to speak of. But Grandpa felt that the board of directors wouldn't be on board with Kingsley taking the realm at such a young age, and that appointing Gerry would appease them.

And now we're stuck with dealing with him.

Luckily, other than regular meetings and the occasional check-in when he's trying to stir up some shit, he mostly leaves us to our own devices. So, when I return to my desk after a meeting and see a message that Gerry called, it conjures up all sorts of annoyance.

---