IN BED WITH THE BOSS

The sharp order ricocheted off her skull. Damn Scott McCall. She hated that he’d infiltrated her head, and she couldn’t evict him. It’d been one week since that meeting-no, ambush. One week since she was supposed to give him her decision about his preposterous ultimatum.

Smothering a sigh, she excused herself from their small group on the pretense of checking with the catering staff, and headed across the room. She’d taken only a dozen steps before she saw something that made tingles jangle up her bare arms and culminated at the nape of her neck.

She sucked in a breath and immediately turned to the source of the unsettling feeling.

Scott McCall.

She balled her fist, forcing her feet to maintain a steady, unhurried pace forward. Even as her heart pounded a relentless rhythm against her sternum. Why the hell was he here? She wondered.

“How did you get in here?” she gritted out.

Conscious of any gazes that might be leveled on them, she kept her polite, social mask in place, when in truth she wanted to glare daggers at him. His aloof expression didn’t change…except for the arch of a dark eyebrow. “I expect like everyone else. The front entrance. And paying the seven-thousand-dollar-a-plate fee.” Scott replied.Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

“That’s not possible,” Jennifer snapped. “I looked over and approved the final guest list myself. Neither you nor your company’s name was on it.”

“Then you missed it. Maybe other matters distracted you,” he added. A beat of charged silence brated between them. No need to name the “other matters.” They both were well aware of what he referred to…her company.

“Is that why you’re here?” she demanded, and in spite of her resolve, her voice dropped to a whisper. “To pressure me for an answer?”

“It’s been more than a week, Miss Bennet,” he replied, and in that moment, she resented his carefully modulated composure. “I’ve given you one week longer than I’d usually grant anyone else.”

“Well, I’m flattered.” Jennifer replied sarcastically.

“You should be.”

She clenched her teeth so hard an ache rose along her jaw. “The answer is n-” She began.

“Is this man bothering you, Jennifer?”

Bruce Bennet appeared at her elbow, and both the venom in his question and his sudden, hard grasp elicited a gasp from her.

Scott’s gaze dropped to her arm, and anger narrowed his eyes. “Get your hand off of her,” he ordered. The volume of his voice didn’t rise, but only a simpleton could miss the warning. “Can’t you see that you’re hurting her, you moron.”

Scowling, Bruce glanced down at his fingers pinching her arm, then jerked his hand away. He lifted his regard to her face, and she glimpsed disgust, but also regret. She dipped her chin in a silent acknowledgment of his equally silent apology.

Turning back to Scott, Bruce snarled, “What are you doing here? You weren’t invited. Leave. Now.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen,” Scott said, with no hint of remorse. If anything, satisfaction rang loud and clear in those words. “I paid to attend just like everyone else here, and made a hefty donation on top of that. I’m staying.”

“You can have your money back. We don’t need it,” Bruce spat, nearly trembling with rage as he edged closer to Scott. “We both know why you’re here. You lost. Get over it. It’s not like it’s the first time, and it damn sure won’t be the last. Don’t test me, Scott. You know what I can do.”

Fear spiked inside Jennifer’s chest. Good God. She’d never seen her brother this angry. His reaction to Scott’s presence had to be more than a business rivalry. This was…personal.

“Bruce,” she quietly pleaded, gently but firmly grasping his arm. “Please.”

Scott shifted his attention from her brother to her. And the same fury that twisted her brother’s face lit his eyes like a glittering night sky. “Have a nice evening. Both of you,” he said, though his regard never wavered from her. “It was wonderful seeing you again, Jennifer,” he murmured, then turned and headed farther into the room, not toward the exit as Bruce had demanded.

“What was he talking about, ‘seeing you again’?” Bruce hissed as soon as Scott was out of earshot. “When the hell did you meet him?”

With a lot of effort, she tore her angry gaze from Scott and met her brother’s glare. Hurt and hints of betrayal lurked there. And guilt pricked her. For what, though? She’d done nothing wrong.

“A few nights ago when I had dinner with friends. He was at the same restaurant.” She delivered the half-truth with aplomb. God, when did I become such an accomplished liar? “He just introduced himself, that was all. What in the world was that all about, Bruce?”

“Nothing,” he snapped. Then, sighing, he dragged a hand over his closely cropped hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bark at you. Just…stay away from him, Jennifer. I don’t want you to have anything to do with him. Do you understand? It’s for your own good.”

“I’m not a child, Bruce,” she murmured, meeting his fierce stare. “And this isn’t the proper place for this discussion, either. We have guests.”

With that reminder, she turned and strode away from him and the disturbing scene that had just unfolded.

Oh yes, there was bad blood between him and Scott McCall. Now more than ever, she felt like a pawn in whatever twisted game the two of them were engaged in. And she hated it.

Whatever it was that was going on between Scott McCall and her brother, she had to know what it was. Her brother’s words were stuck in her head.

‘We both know why you’re here. You lost. Get over it. It’s not like it’s the first time, and it damn sure won’t be the last. You know what I can do.’

His accusation seemed echoed in her head, and yet it made no sense. As did Scott’s reason about why he’d proposed his ridiculous plan, that night at the restaurant.

What the hell was all of this hatred, blackmail, and rivalry for? Her belly lurched, and she fisted her fingers, willing the coq au vin she’d just eaten not to make a reappearance.

“If I may have your attention, please?” Senator Paul Wesley stood, his booming politician’s voice carrying through the ballroom and silencing the after-dinner chatter.

“Thank you. Now I know this evening is about the Sanctuary, and I speak on behalf of both the Wesley and Bennet families when I thank you for your generosity in both spirit and donations.”

Applause rose, and Paul Wesley basked in it, his smile benevolent. No, the evening wasn’t about him, but somehow, he’d managed to make it all about him.

“I’d just like to take this moment to recognize this wonderful charity, as well as Bruce Bennet, who has spearheaded it since the passing of his dear parents. I’m so proud that I will be able to call him son in the very near future, as he and my beautiful daughter, Emily , embark on a journey together as man and wife. Bruce” he accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter who suddenly appeared at his elbow, and lifted it high “…congratulations to you and my daughter. You are the son I wasn’t blessed with, but am so fortunate to now have.”

Around them, people hoisted their own wine-glasses and echoed “To Bruce,” as her brother stood and clasped the senator’s hand, his huge grin so blinding, Jennifer had to glance away. The sight of him soaking up the senator’s validation like water on parched earth caused pain to shudder through her.

Their father would’ve never praised him so publicly-or privately. Jerry Bennet had been a hard man, huge on demands and criticism, and stingy with compliments. She, more than anyone, understood how Bruce had craved his approval. And it’d been their father’s refusal to give it that had changed Bruce. Their father had been dead for five years, and Bruce still drove himself to be the best…to be better than their father. This high regard from such an important man had to be like Christmas to Bruce. A thousand of them packed into one short toast. Oh God. She dipped her head so no one could glimpse the sting of tears in her eyes. She was going to have to cave to Scott’s ultimatum.

Family. Loyalty.

Those were the tenets that had been drilled into them from childhood. Definitely by their father, and even in one of the last conversations she’d had with her mother before she died. She’d stressed that Jennifer and Bruce always take care of one another.

Family loyalty wouldn’t allow her to let Bruce lose everything. The family name. His company. His fiancée. His future father-in-law. There was no one left to protect him, except her. And until she could verify the truth of the information Scott held-and she still doubted the veracity of it, she couldn’t permit her brother to be ruined. Not when the kind but wounded boy she remembered still existed inside him.