The Red Diary Read online

  Her body drifted lower. her kisses dancing across his stomach, her full breasts curving round and warm over his erection like they'd been made to fit together. When she lifted her gaze, then slid her breasts up and down his length, he thought he might lose it, that quickly. "Don't."

  She sighed, just an ounce of the sexual energy leaving her. "I thought you'd like it."

  He ran his hands through her hair. "Baby, I love it. That's the problem. I don't wanna come, not for a long time." "But I want to do things to you, do everything-"

  He cut her off by pressing two fingers to her lips-and she responded by taking them slowly into her mouth, sucking them in a way he felt to his core.

  "Damn," he muttered. She let his fingers go, then moved down a little lower, releasing him from her cradling breasts until her face hovered not more than an inch above his arousal. His entire body tensed with anticipated pleasure-just as he caught sight of Isadora perched on a pink velvet footstool across the room.

  "Are you ready?" Lauren asked, lips provocatively parted.

  Damn it. "Wait." "What?"

  "Your cat's in here." His gaze shot across the room again. "She's watching us."

  Still hovering precariously above him, Lauren released a pretty laugh. "I don't think Izzy knows what's going on, Nick. Although I do think you're her first naked man." She cast a playful glance at the cat. "What do you think, Iz?" He pulled in his breath, trying to calm the frustration of delayed pleasure. "Uh, what'd she say?"

  Lauren paused to peer down at his erection, then flashed a sexy smile. "She says you're magnificent."

  Still more blood gathered between his thighs, and he trembled. He was ready to get on with things, but first ... Swinging his legs over the bed, he got up and snatched the white cat from her stool and gently dropped her outside the room. "Sorry, Izzy, this is private. You're gonna have to get your own man." Shutting the double doors, he returned to the bed and lay flat on his back, resituating himself around Lauren. "Now, where were we?"

  Kneeling between his legs, she put one finger on her lip, smiling coquettishly. "I can't remember."

  "Let me help you out. You were about to make me the happiest guy alive."

  She tilted her head. "Is it that easy to make you happy, Nick?"

  The question hit him harder than it probably should've, but made him realize he had felt happy lately. Happier than he could remember in a long time. "It's that easy."

  "That's what I want," she purred, leaning down over him. "To make you happy." She bit her lip in that hot, hungry way again, getting closer, closer ... "To make you feel good." She wrapped her warm hand firmly around his bard-on, lifting it toward her mouth. "To make you forget everything but me."

  Her tongue flitted across the tip, and Nick sucked in his breath hard. Please, baby, more. Their eyes met as she took him in her mouth, her lips sinking over him, surrounding him in a bliss so complete that for a moment he forgot where he was, who he was-he knew only intense, enveloping pleasure. But then he came back to himself and watched her, so beautiful and wild, and a tremor shook his body so roughly he knew she'd felt it.

  She loved him. Watching her show him, he finally allowed himself to remember-to feel-she'd said that. Other women had said it to him, but when she'd said it, it was different. Watching her work over him with her sweet mouth was different. Just looking into her eyes, all delicate and hot and wanting, was different.

  Damn it, damn it, damn it. "Baby, I'm gonna come." She rose off him as it happened. but never let go with her hand as he spattered her smooth stomach. Their gazes met when it was done, their heated breath punctuating the silence. "God, Princess," he whispered, "let me kiss you." He pulled her down against him. stomach to stomach, chest to chest, burying his hands in her hair as he rained feverish kisses on her face. He felt the wetness pressed warm between them and thought about what she must've felt in the shower when he'd started washing her hair, and even before that, when she'd asked him how he knew exactly what to do, how she'd said it was like deja vu. He thought he must feel the same way now, and decided that maybe reading her journal had less to do with fulfilling her fantasies than he' d ever thought before. Maybe he'd have known anyway, pleased her anyway, sensed her unspoken desires, as she'd just done for him. It had been among his very first thoughts about her, having her take him into her mouth. And just like everything with Lauren, it had been far sweeter, far hotter, far more moving than he ever could have fantasized.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Though God knew he tried, Davy hadn't been able to think of any other way to deliver his gift to Daisy besides telling Elaine about it.

  But maybe it was just as well because she'd been getting suspicious, mainly when he'd made her stop at the craft store and wouldn't let her go in and wouldn't tell her why, even after he'd asked for the money he'd needed for supplies. She'd seemed almost angry when be'd locked himself in his room the last two evenings to work on it. And when he'd finished it last night and sat on the floor admiring it, he'd come to the conclusion that sneaking it into Albertson's while Elaine wasn't looking just wasn't going to work.

  Finally, he'd gone out into the living room, where she'd sat in a nightgown watching the eleven 0' clock news. "I came to show you what I've been making," he said, feeling numb as he hugged it to him.

  She looked up, her eyes gleaming with expectation, and he took a deep breath, despite the way his stomach twisted around and around like it was caught in one of those big taffy machines. Then he turned it toward her.

  "Oh," she said, her eyes growing bigger, rounder.

  "Ohhh. Davy, it's beautiful."

  First, he'd carefully cut out the whole newspaper article about Daisy, the picture of her at its center. He'd pressed it flat between two big plates of clear plastic from the craft store, gluing it together at the edges. The hardest part came next. He'd pasted silk daisies-a hundred or more, he thought--over the glued edges to make a frame. And he'd left room at the bottom for a title, done in gold glitter on dark green construction paper:

  Daisy's Garden.

  "I made it for her," he'd told Elaine. ''To give to her.

  Do you think she'll like it?"

  Elaine had smiled, although in a weird way that'd almost made him think she might cry, too. "I think she'll love it. And I think it's the sweetest present in the world."

  Now they sat outside Albertson's in the car, the framed article on his lap in a grocery bag-Elaine had driven him, and also agreed he should go in by himself. It was only eight in the morning, but the article said that's when Daisy started work, and he'd decided he wanted to get it over with before he got any more nervous. Now he was glad he'd told Elaine, because it was nice not to be in this completely alone.

  "Ready?" she asked him. No. "Yes," he said anyway.

  He walked in deciding he was just going to be Nick like, confident, just going to stroll up to her and say something like, Hello, I made this for you, or maybe

  Hello, I made this because you're the prettiest flower here. He was just going to do it, come what may.

  He reached the door feeling bold, despite having taffy in his gut again. He spotted her at the table and walked toward the garden. And then he walked right past. The taffy machine had gotten faster and faster and tied him in a knot. He was breathing too hard. He couldn't do it.

  He stopped at the magazine rack and casually looked over at her, not sure what to do next and half-sorry he'd done any of this. What would Nick do? he asked himself. But that didn't matter-he wasn't Nick.

  She started working then, arranging her flowers. Red roses and gladiolus and ... daisies. In spite of himself, he smiled, watching, enjoying the gift to his eyes.

  He'd probably stood there for five minutes or more when she suddenly stopped working and wheeled away. He heard her tell one of the cashiers she was going to the bathroom.

  So the floral department was empty. But the checkouts were busy-busy enough that a guy in the flower department wouldn't be especially noticeable, he hoped
. He swallowed nervously, then made a beeline for Daisy's table. He lowered the paper bag there, then retreated to the magazines. His heart beat a mile a minute.

  Whipping open a fitness magazine, he buried his nose in it, then waited. He watched the big clock on the wall as five minutes passed, then ten. Elaine would probably come looking for him soon and maybe he should just go. But right when he was about to leave, Daisy came wheeling up past the checkouts.

  His heart rose to his throat and he was suddenly glad he hadn't been dumb enough to give it to her himself, because she'd probably hate it, probably frown at it, probably throw it in the garbage.

  Even so, he was going to wait around to see. He steeled himself for the worst.

  First, she leaned down and peeked uncertainly in the bag. Next, she reached inside and pulled out the daisy frame, and he tensed.

  Studying it, her mouth fell open, and her eyes were like stars, sparkling the same way Elaine's did when she looked at him sometimes, and then that beautiful smile from the picture spread across her face and his heart nearly burst. "Mary Beth," she called to a woman at the service desk across the way. "Did you see who put this here?" The older lady shook her head. "No, honey. What is it?"

  "Come look." She still smiled, thrilling him from head to toe.

  As Mary Beth crossed the floor to her, he started toward the exit. Behind him, he heard Mary Beth say, "Oh, honey, how nice."

  "Look at all the daisies," Daisy Maria Ramirez said just as he left the store, trembling with joy.

  Maybe someday he'd be braver. Maybe someday he'd tell her the gift was from him. But for now, this was enough.

  The dim lamp had still lit the room when the phone rang that morning, jarring Lauren from sleep. The partners, her father had explained to her relief, had not held her responsible for not discovering Phil's crimes sooner. They'd decided to demand restitution of half a million dollars and dismiss him from the company in return for not pressing charges. She still thought he was getting off light, but according to Frank Maris, the company attorney, this was how such things were generally handled. Now she stood next to her father in Phil's office, waiting for him to arrive. She wore a fitted navy blue suit severe apparel for a Tuesday morning, but something she kept in her wardrobe for occasions when she felt she needed to be taken seriously on the job. This was only the third time she'd worn it, and certainly the most nerve-wracking. She didn't want Phil mistaking her for his pet today.

  Both feeling uneasy, neither she nor Henry had spoken in some time, and though they'd only been there for twenty minutes, it seemed like hours. Despite the silence, she could feel her father's emotions meshing with hers. Phil had been a trusted colleague and, more than that, a friend. For Lauren, he hadn't been a close friend or a confidant, yet she'd always possessed a certain affection for him which, she realized now, must have run a little deeper than she'd realized. For her father, she knew it was much worse.

  The intercom on Phil's desk buzzed to life, Sadie's voice sounding over the speaker. "He's here." She and her father exchanged looks, then she drew a deep breath. Get through this and the rest of your day, week, month, will be cake.

  A moment later, Phil's cheerful whistle echoed down the hall, and she tensed. He walked in the door in a summer sports jacket and khakis, one arm loaded down with paperwork. He stopped short, his whistle dying away, then blinked, looking confused,

  A lump grew in Lauren's throat, and she was glad they'd agreed her father would start the explanation. "Phil, it's over," Henry said.

  Phil tilted his head, blinked again. "Uh ... what's over?" He tried to smile, but it came out wooden.

  'We know you've been embezzling."

  Both men stood frozen; Phil's mouth dropped open slightly. As seconds passed, an unexpected energy gathered in Lauren and, without planning it, she took over. "I finally figured out you were re-creating invoices, increasing the subs' charges. PH Construction, Phil? Couldn't you have been a little more original?" She went on to tell him the details of her findings, right down to the dollar amount for which they were holding him responsible.

  His eyes had grown a little more broken with each word, and now his teeth clenched as he omitted hard, panting breaths. Somehow it made her braver, stronger, less emotional. She'd imagined Phil reacting in his usual cavalier way, perhaps trying to defend himself or play it off as if it were nothing. Instead, he stood cowering, on the verge of crumbling.

  "However," Henry said, "we don't plan to press charges as long as you return the money and, of course, relinquish your position in the company."

  Phil's voice trembled as he began to speak for the first time. "I-I ... don't have that kind of money. I mean, it's tied up, or spent."

  Lauren took a step forward, not even waiting for her father's response. They were letting Phil off this easy, and he had the nerve to whine and refuse? "In that case, consider the offer officially revoked. We'll take your ownership in Ash instead." Phil's eyebrows dipped in worry. "How much?" "All of it."

  Phil drew back in disbelief. "Lauren, we all know that 25 percent of the company is worth a hell of a lot more than what I took. That's not fair."

  She flashed an indignant look. "Not fair? You steal from us for months, you make me look like a fool, and you think relinquishing your ownership is too much to ask. Well, let me make something clear to you, Phil. You're not calling the shots here anymore. And if you don't surrender your interest in the partnership, we will press charges and have you prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. And that means prison, for a very long time. Now what's it gonna be?"

  Phil hesitated, actually glancing to Henry as if he thought her father would bail him out, but Lauren took yet another step forward, imbued with a courage and power she'd never known. "You've got five seconds to make up your mind. After that, the stakes get even higher. Don't piss me off any more than you already have."

  His lips trembled again as he said, "Okay, damn it. Okay. I'll quit the partnership."

  She gave a solemn nod. "Frank Maris will be here any minute to draw up the papers."

  Two hours later, an agreement had been signed by the necessary parties, and though Lauren and her father never had any time alone, she could feel the admiration in his eyes. She hadn't done it for his approval, but knowing she'd earned it gave her even more new found strength. She had wondered how she'd ever have the kind of personality necessary to run a successful company, but suddenly, she knew she did, knew it had been hiding inside her, just waiting for the right time to come out.

  "Henry, can I see you in the hall?" Frank asked then, and the two men disappeared from the office, leaving Lauren and Phil alone.

  She didn't look at him, although she felt his gaze.

  "I'm so, so sorry, Pet. I never meant to--"

  "How many times do I have to tell you, Phil? I'm not your pet. And I'm not a soft touch anymore, so you may as well save whatever you're attempting to say."

  Her lack of compassion, even now that they were alone, clearly took him aback. He gaped at her, but she never met his eyes. Finally, he pushed to his feet and walked across the room, leaning his head back in despair. "Hell," be muttered, sighing. "How am I gonna tell Jeanne? We'll lose the bouse. We'll lose everything. She's at her sister's right now, but-" "She knows."

  Phil spun to face her.

  And finally she deigned to look at him, although she didn't see the same man she used to. "Why do you think she'd suddenly take a trip to her sister's? Just because you're cheating on her? She knows that, too, by the way, although she figured it out on her own. Even so, it took a little more than that to make her leave you. I wanted to give her fair warning, a chance to protect herself"

  His usually tan complexion went pale. "How could you, Lauren?"

  Obviously. he thought she'd crossed the line from professional persecution into personal, but she didn't care. She wasn't the one who'd done something wrong here, lots of things wrong. And deep inside, she hurt for Phil and Jeanne because their once-perfect lives were fal
ling apart, but she couldn't let her emotions interfere with her duties. She understood without doubt now that, for the rest of her life, it was her responsibility to protect Ash Builders.

  "Don't worry, Phil. You still have the other woman."

  Lauren tilted her head, "Or do you? You might look a lot less appealing now."

  After returning home to proudly tell Nick how she'd handled things with Phil, she'd called Carolyn. She wanted to catch her up on events, but more than that, after being so tough and stalwart with Phil, she just needed to unwind for a while; she needed an afternoon of chick stuff, which was exactly what she told Carolyn when she got her on the phone. "Let's hit the beach," Carolyn suggested. "Let's do the whole umbrella, radio, junk food. tanning oil thing."

  Lauren smiled. The very thought took her back to high school, a time when the beach had been their retreat, the spot where they'd spent hours talking and dreaming.

  Carolyn managed a posh hair and nail salon in Palm Harbor, but because her wealthy family owned it and several more, she could usually juggle her schedule at will, so she took the afternoon off. They met on Clearwater Beach, each armed with snacks and towels, and wearing bikinis.

  After settling in the beach chairs beneath one of the yellow umbrellas dotting the sand, Lauren relayed the whole story about Phil. Carolyn remained appropriately shocked throughout, especially, Lauren figured, since she, too, had developed a casual and likely flirtatious relationship with him. Lauren also shared her heartbreak for Jeanne, and though she didn't know if Carolyn really held marriage or love sacred these days, told her about

  Phil's extracurricular romance without hiding her disgust. Carolyn's expression turned sad, and Lauren could only guess, or hope, that seeing it through her eyes reminded Carolyn that once upon a time they'd both held such ideals dear. Lauren then triumphantly shared the tale's outcome, the way she'd wheedled Phil out of far more than the board had planned to ask for. She'd seen his fear, she explained, and she'd also been unable to live with the idea of Phil continuing to own part of Ash Builders.