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10
“Mr. Montague will be ready in a minute,” Claire, the efficient thirty-something assistant, said, and Kira sat on the sofa in the swanky waiting area leading to his office.
Kira threaded her fingers together in a vain effort to calm her nerves. Why did he call her? Ever since she’d gotten married, he hadn’t summoned her, which she appreciated.
A week prior, she and Luc began having sex… which only mucked the waters. Of course Mr. Montague didn’t need to know about their intimacy.
What if he knows? Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. No. There was no way he’d know or care—though she doubted he wanted her to get closer to the… what was Luc? The enemy? The subject? The mark?
Knots formed in her stomach. Damn it. Sleeping with him complicated everything, but she couldn’t go back now. Wasn’t sure if living with him and not banging him was even possible.
They had a busy schedule with meetings, with him learning about the way his father’s technology team did things and then making plans to change some practices to improve security and productivity. But when they arrived home, many times they didn’t make it past the foyer.
He’d push her against the wall, and fuck her—then pick her up again and take her to the shower, or her bed. They didn’t talk a whole lot about personal stuff, and she liked it that way. She was already letting him too close physically, their pull to each other too strong to ignore. The last thing she needed was to get in deeper.
“He’s ready,” Claire said, with a smile.
“Thanks,” she said, and entered the large office with a breathtaking view of the city.
“Hello, Mr. Montague, you wanted to see me?” she said.
He raised his gaze from his sleek computer screen, and nodded. Behind her, the assistant closed the door and left. Then he stood, making a gesture for her to sit, and only after she sat on the chair across from him, did he do the same. “Yes. How have you been?”
“Good, thanks.” She smoothed her hands down her skirt. “You?” she asked, feeling silly. Was she supposed to treat him like her boss? Or her fake father-in-law? Sometimes, reading Mr. Montague was harder than picking a book in a foreign language.
He canted his head. “Good. Have you noticed anything, hmm, worth mentioning about my son in the time you’ve been living with him?”
“Hmmm…” She tapped her chin. Yes. Mr. Montague. The man kisses like no one’s business. And the way he touches me down there… Heat flared her insides. “Well, he has this annoying habit of playing with the pen when you’re talking to him. Works out like he’s training for a triathlon. And he drinks a lot of coffee, and—”
“I mean…” He cleared his throat, then gave her a pointed look. Apprehension thrummed in her blood. Was there something she wasn’t picking up? “Have you heard of Samantha Fraser?”
A chilly sensation quickly replaced the heat from a second earlier. She locked her spine into place, her brain taking mental notes. “I haven’t met her myself, but have seen her at an event, yes.”
“I heard my son has been talking to her.”
“T-talking?” She blinked. How? When? She worked alongside the man, and whenever he wasn’t working, he was with her. Sure, he worked out at the building’s gym, but she doubted he snuck out then… or did he? The man had muscles. He had to work out to keep them, right? Her stomach lurched, and she willed herself to keep her face neutral. Letting Mr. Montague know they’d slept together would only worsen things right now.
“Yes. He met her at a party. Has he mentioned anything to you?”
“He mentioned about wanting to buy a property from her. A duplex by Central Park that isn’t on the market yet.”
“Ok, good. Let me know if you hear anything else.”
“Maybe if you’re more clear, I can help. What are you implying, sir? That they’re having an affair?” she asked, hating herself for wishing it weren’t true. What if she wasn’t seeing all the signs?
“I’m not sure about the nature of their relationship. I can’t tell you more, but my concern is more… business related.”
“Oh.” Relief poured through her every fiber. Still, what did he mean by business related? Was he also interested in the duplex? “I understand.”
“Not that I’d be happy with Luc already having an affair, given the news has finally calmed down.”
Neither would I.“Of course.” She relaxed her shoulders a bit, loosening her muscles. No international scandal in her near future. Good. “Why don’t you ask him? Have you tried talking to him?”
He rocked back in his chair, shaking his head more to himself than to her. “It isn’t that easy, Kira. You don’t disappear from your son’s life for most of his existence then expect honest answers. Takes time.”
“How could you have disappeared? You didn’t even know he was alive until that journalist came along,” she said, but then as realization dawned on her, her voice lost energy.
That had been the story they told the media. Not the truth. What is the truth?
