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Hostile Takeover

Page 54

   



What surprised her was seeing Savannah asleep on their comfortable wide sofa, a body pillow firmly clasped between arms and legs. An afghan had been laid over her. In sleep, her face was far more relaxed, approachable. Remembering that earlier job offer, Marcie felt a frisson of warmth. She had great friends.
Because she saw Savannah, she was less surprised but not sure how to feel about seeing Matt in the kitchen. His laptop was open at the kitchen table, along with a couple files, but he was heating a kettle of water at the stove, three mugs laid out on the kitchen island.
It was rare she saw him in more casual attire, but it wasn’t an unpleasant experience. The jeans fit well, the dark blue T-shirt stretching over his broad shoulders.
“I thought I heard you up,” he said. “Want some hot chocolate?”
“I didn’t figure you for the hot-chocolate type.”
“One’s for you and one’s for Savannah. The third will be for Talia. She’ll arrive as soon as she smells chocolate, no matter how deep she’s sleeping.”
Marcie chuckled. “You know us pretty well.”
Matt gestured to a stool at the kitchen island for Marcie to make herself comfortable. “How are you doing?”
Marcie shrugged. “I’m fine, Matt. Really. Is Ben okay?”
When he glanced up at her, his brow furrowing, she dropped her attention to one of the mugs, turning it in her hands. “I know you know what happened tonight. I also think… It would help if I understood more.” She remembered again that glimpse of darkness in Ben’s eyes, of a deep well that could swallow a soul whole. “Savannah said you might talk to me.”
“I’m certain she didn’t mean tonight.”
“Well, I’m not doing anything, you’re sort of not doing anything. At the moment.” She knew she was treading on uncertain ground, but that rarely stopped her. She met his dark gaze. “I can research a lot of things, but it’s not the same as getting information right from the mind and perspective of the person who probably knows him best. You.”
Matt considered her. “You’re very forthright.”
“I’ve been told that’s a bad thing.”
“I hope you disregard that advice. However, I have another concern.” He braced his hands on the counter. “I asked how you are doing. You turned the conversation immediately to Ben’s well-being. I hope you realize that your well-being is as important as his, particularly if this relationship is going to succeed.”
She had the grace to flush a little. His tone was mild, but his expression wasn’t. She’d opened the door by being blunt, and he’d shifted into the role of patriarch.
“Does that mean you won’t tell me?”
Matt studied her an instant longer. “Bring me the chocolate and marshmallows from the pantry.”
She immediately moved to do that. Standing next to him at the island, she emptied the powder into the mugs at his direction, stirred as he poured her cup. “You know how Ben came into our family,” he said at last. “Not the official story about growing up in New England, et cetera.”
“I do.”
Matt nodded, his lips quirking. “Because our ladies do tend to share secrets with one another.”
“Well, fair’s fair.”
He gave her a full smile at that. Gesturing her onto the stool next to him, he steadied it until she was situated. Then he sobered. “Those first several years, he didn’t like to be touched by anyone. Not men or women. It was obvious he trusted neither one, and I’m sure he experienced the expected list of atrocities a child on the street faces.”
He’d straightened, turning to lean against the counter next to her. Her slippered feet brushed against his jeans leg, but he didn’t discourage the casual contact. Marcie was glad, because in the aftermath of the night’s events, and imagining the dark picture he was painting, the tactile connection was reassuring. “But the real wounds he carried were chronic betrayals, inflicted by everyone who mattered in his life. It was a long time before he learned to relax enough to enjoy the camaraderie you see between him and the other men now. But that’s not the only difference.
“It’s perhaps a sign of a divine plan that Lucas ended up as head of your household. He transitioned from losing his parents to an optimal adopted family early on, so optimal there’s even a genetic resemblance between them. I’m not saying he doesn’t remember the loss, but he had a strong familial structure to take its place fairly quickly. That’s rare, but it gives him a stability that holds fast through everything. I saw it when we met at Yale. I was a few years late attending, because I had to take over my father’s business, but that was a fortuitous delay, since it gained me Lucas as a roommate.”
Matt brushed her hair from her face, a gentle touch. “The code of morality that we observe, toward women, business, service in our community…that was a code that already existed for Lucas and myself, Jon and Peter. It drew us together, and we deepened that bond in our daily actions.” He met Marcie’s gaze. “Ben needed that structure because he had lived entirely without it. Our code became a lifeline to what he was meant to be, instead of the scavenger he’d had to become. It defines him. When he lost control earlier tonight—”
“I pushed him. I was topping—”
“Stop.”
Whoa. There was a reason the other men deferred to Matt. Her words froze in her throat at the look on his face. “What happened is entirely on Ben’s shoulders,” he said quietly. “He knows it, we all know it. If you want to be with him, Marcie, do not ever excuse a loss of control like that.
“Yes, topping from the bottom can be dangerous, because it mixes up who is holding the physical and emotional control, and it’s important that the Dom keep a calm hand on those reins at all times, because of how intense a session can become. However, what I just said about our code…for Peter, Jon, Lucas and myself, it is an ideal, however vital we consider it. For Ben, it’s an imperative. If you love him, you hold him to it, always. With the exception of Peter, within the confines of military action, none of us have lived lives governed completely by violence. Ben has.”
She swallowed. He was waiting on her answer, and while he wasn’t her Master, she knew exactly how to respond. “Yes sir.”
Matt nodded. “Ben has another side of that same coin, which is why he will be harder on himself about what happened tonight than anyone. He has no tolerance for an attack on an innocent. If he had been part of your life the night Jeremy’s friend attacked you, that friend would be dead. His body would be lost in the bayou, never to be found, and Ben wouldn’t lose a night of sleep over cutting his throat.”
Marcie blinked. “Are you trying to scare me away from him?”
“No. You asked me a question, and I’m giving you an answer. You’re very young.”
She scowled, automatic resentment rising in her breast. Here it went. The “you’re so young” speech.
“Marcie.” He had that authoritative gaze fixed on her again. “Drop the attitude. It’s a simple fact. You don’t have a lot of life experience to bring to a situation like this, the things I’ve described. Correct?”
She gave a grudging nod.
“Right. So you need to consider it carefully. Are you ready to handle that type of man, something entirely separate from your feelings for him? You may want to negotiate a million-dollar contract, but do you step into the room before you have the resources to handle it?”
She watched him pour more hot water, then patiently take up a spoon and stir a mug of chocolate for his wife. He had large hands, but they moved capably over the task. Savannah might be impatient with Matt’s coddling, but the Tennyson CEO understood it. They all did. Savannah’s mother had died as a result of her pregnancy. Though it was because of a virulent cancer that she’d refused to have treated to protect her unborn child, there was a lingering legacy there. Under Matt’s collar, Savannah often wore the locket left to her by her mother. The past was important.
But it didn’t dictate choices. Cass had taught her that.
“I don’t know if I can handle him, but it’s not that kind of decision.” There was no going back now. Not for her. “From the moment we met, I knew I was his. That’s who I want to be. So I have to figure it out, you know? Jon said it could only happen if I was myself, so that’s got to be enough.” She drew herself up. “I think it is.”
Matt pursed his lips, nodded. “Considering how long you have pursued him, I think your argument is credible. It’s also fueled by the passion of youth which, in this case, is not a bad thing.”
When he pushed her mug closer to her, reminding her the chocolate was starting to cool, she saw the ceramic had a picture of a cat on it, one with a comically disagreeable face, a fly sitting on its whisker. It made her lips twitch.
She looked up at him then. He was still stirring, so she had the pleasure of studying the aristocratic bone structure of his face, the set of his mouth. Though none of the Knights shared their women outside their own circle, Savannah stayed pretty exclusive to Matt and him to her, except for indulging some soft pleasures within the group—like the women had done tonight. She wanted to ask about that, and about a million other questions, but she figured she’d wait until another time. Or seek other sources for the information. Best not to poke the lead wolf with a stick.
“I used to go crazy, reading the society pages,” she admitted. “Whenever they hooked him up with someone for a charity event, or reported seeing him ‘with’ Miss So-n-So, I’d think—what will I do if someone gets him first? If one day I open up the paper and see his engagement notice?”
Matt arched a brow. “Did you have a plan to handle that eventuality?”
“Yes. It involved a shovel and a remote location.”
Matt chuckled, heaping marshmallows in the top of Savannah’s mug. “You and Ben may be a useful combination, if I ever need to be permanently rid of a competitor.”