The Fidelity World_Scorched Read online

  No pressure or anything.

  Tell that to the mariachi band that had taken up residence in her nervous stomach and set the beat for her anxious heart.

  She hadn’t said the words to him. She didn’t plan to, not just yet, not while their lives were in a constant state of flux because of their baggage, but she felt the love despite her silence. It had wound its way through her in all the empty spaces that had never been filled and if Karen came back and told her they didn’t suit, she had no clue what she would do. Surely Micah would get the same information and if they didn’t discuss it, decide what to do about it, it would hover over them like a storm cell just waiting to drop a tornado on their budding relationship.

  “Great. So tell me about your living arrangements thus far and if those are satisfactory to you, we’ll leave them as is,” Karen said.

  Beatrice sat forward in her chair and straightened her spine. “Well, I don’t cook. Either Micah does or we go out. He has someone who comes in and cleans the penthouse so the bulk of the domestic chores are handled that way. When there is occasion to clean up dishes, we’ve always done it together while we talked.”

  Karen nodded and smiled. “Very nice. And transportation?” Karen asked, clicking away on the keyboard before her.

  “He uses a car service for both of us.”

  “Excellent. And your living situation?”

  “I’ve been staying with him, but have not moved my stuff in. I have no interest in my own place, but he insists that he secures one in case I want or need space.”

  “It’s actually an excellent idea and very telling of how he feels toward you that he wishes to care for you in that way,” Karen said.

  “I never really thought about it like that,” Beatrice said, wondering why her first thought went to being controlled.

  Karen glanced over at her. “Most wouldn’t. They think that their partner is out to dominate them or the situation, but more often than not, in my line of work, its care and consideration. Now, sexual activity? Will that be part of the contract?”

  The rush of embarrassment flooded her veins, making her blush to the roots of her hair. She cleared her throat. “Uh, yes, sexual activity will be involved.”

  “And your limits?”

  Beatrice’s mouth fell open and then closed. She flinched. “Excuse me?”

  “Well, I’m assuming you want to be monogamous, or will there be third parties entering into the sexual activity as well?”

  “Threesomes? Uh, Micah is a whole lot to handle alone. Monogamous, please. God, I feel like I’m ordering off a menu here. Do people really add multiple partners to their contracts?” she asked, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear that had slipped from her ponytail.

  “They do, not all the time, but in more complicated set-ups, it’s essential to have those expectations mapped out. Now, we’re on to limits? Is there anything you will absolutely not tolerate?”

  “In bed, or in general?” Beatrice asked, her ears burning.

  Karen laughed. “Both.”

  “Sexually, no. No limits.”

  “Interesting. So if Micah wanted to tie you up…”

  “I’d trust him to do it,” Beatrice said, her throat going dry.

  “If he wanted to have anal sex with you…”

  “Umm…”

  “I had a feeling you might not be thinking about the distinctions so I have to ask,” Karen said quietly.

  “If he asked, I would try it at least once,” Beatrice whispered.

  “Okay. Any other limits on behaviors that you can think of?”

  Her mind shot right back to the conversation the night before when he confessed to killing a man in self-defense. She understood why he did it, but she didn’t want that kind of violence in her life for any reason. Not that she expected it to be an issue, so really, what could it hurt to put it in there?

  “I’d like a restriction on violence of any kind.”

  “Beatrice, if there is violence in this relationship, I need to know right now. I will not willingly pair a couple if there is a domestic violence concern.”

  “It’s not for me. Oh, no, please, I should have been clearer. I just mean that in any of his more hostile dealings, as a businessman, I request that his dealings be professional. That’s all.”

  Karen’s fingers hovered tentatively over the keyboard as she seemed to waver on whether or not to go on. Finally, with one last shrewd glare, she entered the information in the computer.

  Two hours later, wrung out, and hungry, Beatrice made her way out to the front of the building to find Micah’s car service there, and his smiling face inside.

  “How did it go?”

  “You know darn well how it went since you were asked many of the same things,” she muttered, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the head rest.

  “You sound wiped out,” he said, curling his fingers over her thigh.

  “I am. And hungry. I need food and a nap. In that order,” she declared keeping her eyes closed.

  So maybe she was avoiding a more detailed discussion, but who could blame her with the anal sex subject still hovering in the back of her mind.

  “Then you shall get both. And after that, hopefully you’ll be willing to let me know how you marked your paper in the sex category,” he said, holding back laughter.

  “Micah?”

  “Yes?”

  “Shut up.”

  She drifted off to sleep with the sound of his deep laugh as she went putting a smile on her face.

  Chapter 6

  Beatrice’s fingers shook as she struggled to fasten the solitaire diamond necklace her father had given her for her college graduation around her neck. For the past three days, she’d agonized over what to wear to this party, about how to expose her father for the man he was.

  And what did it say about her that she planned to lay him bare before his business associates?

  It’s the same question she’d asked herself a hundred times over the past three days, and no matter how many times she envisioned her options, outing him in the presence of his friends, associates, and her immediate family meant she could expose him and give everyone who had dealings with him a fair shot to see just what they were getting into.

  She hoped her mother would forgive her in the interest of keeping Beatrice in her life, as long as she could accept that Beatrice steered her own ship.

  The Addington family was in for a transformation, and it was likely to be a bumpy soap opera of a ride.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” Micah murmured in her ear.

  “Thank you,” she said, holding the stone steady on her chest.

  His fingers caressed her skin as he made quick work of the clasp. “Are you nervous or terrified?” he asked, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

  “Is there a difference?”

  “Huge difference,” he said, kissing the curve of her neck.

  “I guess I’m both then,” she admitted.

  “I’ve got some news to cheer you up,” he said, spinning her in his arms.

  “What’s that?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and breathing in the crisp scent of his aftershave.

  “We’re officially arranged,” he said, kissing her forehead.

  “We’re a match?” she asked, her mouth curving into a smile despite the trepidation for the evening to come.

  “Apparently so, and you, my goddess, are financially independent.”

  She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his hard chest. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “What did I do?”

  “You gave me an out,” she said, tipping her head back, rising on her tiptoes, and pressing a kiss to his chin.

  “I told you of an opportunity. The out was all you,” he said, smoothing a hand over her hair. “I like what you did here. It’s sleek and stunning. You look formidable.”

  “Now that is about the best thing you could have said to me tonight,” she said.


  “Remember that so I stay in your good graces for the other issues I need to address,” he said, sliding a hand into his pocket.

  “What are you up to?”

  “Well, I was thinking about what your mother said to you about being available since you don’t have a ring.” He flipped open the black, velvet jewelry box. “I’d like to make it clear that you’re not available.”

  She took a step back as the radiant cut diamond, at least four carats and surrounded by tiny diamonds, winked up at her. “We talked about marriage.”

  “Yes, and I heard you. I’m not proposing, but if I were, this is the ring I’d give you. I’m hoping you’ll wear it, at least tonight, to make it clear to anyone who might want to play fast and loose with semantics that you’re not on the market. Because you’re not,” he rasped.

  She knew she shouldn’t suggest it, but if at some point he proposed for real and she accepted, this ring would have already been on her finger, so for the first time, she wanted him to do it, as though it meant forever. “Will you do the honors?” she asked.

  “I’d love to,” he murmured, slipping the ring from its slot. He took her hand in his, kissed the knuckle of her ring finger, and slid it up her finger.

  She curled her fingers over his hand, letting the diamond wink up at him for a job well done. “It’s incredible, Micah. Thank you.”

  “Are you ready to go?”

  She took a deep breath and blew it out. “As I’ll ever be. I have a favor to ask. Don’t leave my side tonight. No matter what. Please.”

  “Anything you want, it’s yours.”

  “I sound like a baby,” she said.

  “You sound like someone who has always been kind and never in the position of dealing in payback. As much as your father deserves it, are you sure you want to issue this blow, Beatrice? I have everything I need to set the wheels in motion that will all but destroy his career, and I looked forward to wielding my power.”

  “I need to expose him. He took one of the few happy memories of my childhood and crushed it to a fine dust.”

  “And you want to hurt him,” he said with a nod.

  As childish as it may sound, yes, that’s exactly what she wanted to do.

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to admit it,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Our car is here.”

  “Okay, let me just get my computer.”

  It took just over an hour to make it out of the city and arrive at her family estate. Valets stood outside the front entrance waiting for guests to arrive. With it being five minutes to five, she’d bet they were the first to arrive since the rich made it a habit to be fashionably late.

  Tension radiated from Micah, escalating with each mile closer to their destination. She remembered when he told her that he wasn’t going to be the doting boyfriend that she could bring home to the parents, yet here she was, doing exactly that.

  Worse, she was forcing him to face a man he hated, and expecting him to tolerate her father, temper his rage, so she could have her opportunity.

  In doing that, she’d committed Micah to a night of possibly taking barbs slung by her father who could very well take the opportunity to brag about wielding his power over a deal that left Micah in the cold.

  She owed him big time for this.

  Their driver rolled to a stop. Before he could circle around to open her door, she turned to Micah. “I’m sorry if this puts you in a bad position.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not. But I’ll make it up to you.”

  He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Beatrice, do what you need to do. Once this is all over, I have evidence gathered, and plans of my own where your father is concerned. If this gives you a chance to protect your mother from the fallout, I can live with it.”

  The door opened beside her, and she pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. “I love you,” she whispered over his lips.

  He buried his hand in her hair and slanted his mouth over hers, going in deep and fast, making her blood race through her veins. When he pulled back, she swayed toward his retreating lips. “I should have said it sooner,” she said, licking her damp bottom lip.

  “You said it at just the right time. Come on,” Micah said, nudging her toward the open door.

  She took his hand and escorted him to the front door. “Miss Addington,” their groundskeeper, Joe, said from where he stood manning the door.

  “Good evening, Joseph. I hope Sandy and the kids are doing well,” she said as he opened the door.

  “They’re healthy and happy, thank you,” he said with a smile and nod.

  Beatrice’s heels echoed in the foyer, alerting her mother to her arrival.

  She appeared at the top of the stairs, on her father’s arm, and it was all Beatrice could do to choke down the unrefined growl that rose in her throat.

  Her mother stumbled to a stop and narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t realize you were bringing a guest.”

  Her father’s gaze landed on Micah, and his skin turned mottled purple as it did when angered. “Alessi, what are you doing here?”

  “He’s my date, Daddy, and I expect you to be nice,” Beatrice said, trying not to choke on the term of endearment.

  They arrived at the bottom of the stairs, and her mother studied Micah with unabashed curiosity. “I’m Claire, and this is my husband, Wallace. And you are?”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Claire,” he said, lifting her slim hand to his lips. “I’m Micah Alessi.” He turned to her father with a brief nod. “Wallace.”

  “I would have appreciated some sort of warning before you just brought anyone as a guest,” Wallace said, kissing Beatrice’s cheek.

  “If it’s a problem, we can go. Of course, if we do, I’ll take your surprise with me,” she said, forcing a smile much like the fake ones her mother offered.

  “Surprise?”

  “Of course. It seemed only fitting when you’ve been partner for ten years, to honor you at a party made up of your colleagues.” The image of his hand flashed in her mind, making her stomach pitch.

  His eyes widened, and he shuffled on his feet. “Well, I guess when you put it that way, how can I refuse?”

  “Great. If you don’t mind, I’ll get it set up in your study and once everyone is here, before they’re too tipsy, I’ll do the honors.” She hooked her hand over Micah’s shoulder, the ring he’d given her glittering on her finger.

  “You’re engaged?!?” Her mother shrieked.

  “I’m officially off the market,” Beatrice said, giving Micah a smile when he glanced down at her and took her hand.

  The sound of guests talking as they climbed the front steps threw a wet blanket on her mother’s impending lecture.

  “We’re going to discuss this, but this is not the time. I should have known, Alessi. This is exactly how I expect you to operate.”

  “You can’t even begin to imagine the power I have, Addington. But you will. One day, you will,” Micah said quietly.

  “You have guests to attend to, and I have setting up to do and then I want to show Micah around.”

  “What do you say we work on moving everyone into the study at five thirty.”

  “Beatrice, I think it best you reserve this engagement announcement for another time.”

  “Of course, Mother. This is Daddy’s night, I wouldn’t dream of ruining it.” Beatrice gave her mother’s arm a reassuring squeeze before leading Micah to her father’s study, her body shaking from head to toe.

  The minute they stepped in and closed the door, Micah wrapped his arms around her. “You were absolutely terrifying,” he said with a chuckle.

  “I’m sorry about him.” She struggled against angry tears as she sucked in a ragged breath.

  “Don’t be. Come on. I’ll help,” he said, taking her hand.

  Chapter 7

  Micah kept his eyes open and his mouth shut as people arrived over the course of the next twenty minutes. If he’d learned anything
over the years, it was to attend functions like these as a sponge.

  Listen to the whispers, make note of the important details, offer up next to none of your own.

  It took Beatrice all of five minutes to set up her laptop and slide down the projection screen installed on the far wall of her father’s office.

  “You’re not going to tell me what you’re doing, are you?”

  “I think I’ll let you be surprised along with everyone else,” she said, sipping a glass of sparkling champagne and watching the guests roll in.

  “It’s a larger audience than I expected,” Micah said, lifting his Old Fashioned to his lips.

  “Well, you have his new business associates, whoever they are, and of course his partners and junior partners at the firm,” she said, pointing at clusters of people through the great room with her pinky. “Then there are the nosy, elite rich that live around here, and you know, it would be unsavory for them to not get an invite.”

  “I don’t know how you grew up like this,” he muttered into his glass.

  “I don’t either. Seeing them now, watching the way they interact, but never really say anything important.” She shook her head. “I can’t live a superficial life like that ever again.”

  “I’d never ask you to. Do you have any friends here?” he asked, glancing around, wishing he could snatch the words right back when sadness shone in her eyes.

  She bit her bottom lip and smiled. “I have you.”

  He cupped her chin and kissed her gently. “You do, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “For a year,” she said, raising her glass.

  Forever,” he said, clinking his glass to hers before she could protest.

  His gaze landed on the front door and the three men who walked through it. Muscle-bound, dark skin, black suits, and their eyes searching. He recognized that look.

  At one time, he looked the same way.

  Bellini’s men.

  He pulled out his cell and shot off a text to Sebastian, letting him know the turn of events. Tucking his hand under his arm, he snapped a picture and forwarded it.