Shawna Delacorte - Falling For The Enemy

Her excitement grew as she picked up the folder and began to search the contents for the proof she needed.

Bryce stayed in the rear cabin and continued his dictation—reports, letters, memos. He finished the last letter then clicked off the recorder as he glanced at his watch. It was almost midnight Los Angeles time. He left the cabin and walked through the plane, coming to a halt next to the table. Paige’s head rested on top of the opened file, her eyes closed. Her slow, even breathing told him she was asleep. He stared at her for a moment. The hard edge he had put on his feelings softened as he continued to gaze at her. She was truly lovely. If only he could figure out what was on her hidden agenda.

He carefully picked her up and carried her to the back cabin. She stirred, but only snuggled farther into his arms without waking. It was a small thing, but the intimate gesture touched off a rush of excitement deep inside him. He held her in his arms a moment longer than necessary before gently placing her on the bed. He removed her shoes, then pulled a blanket over her and left the cabin.

Bryce poured himself a glass of wine, then sat at the table, his forehead creased in deep concentration as his thoughts turned to the situation at hand. He pictured the beautiful woman who had snuggled so enticingly in his arms and thought back to her comments about ethical behavior and monetary results. I don’t know what you’re up to, Paige Franklin Bradford, but I think finding out is going to be a very interesting adventure.

An image of Paige appeared in his mind’s eye. An uncomfortable shiver made its way up his spine. He wanted to rid himself of the image and everything implied that went with it. He wanted to, but he didn’t seem to be able to force himself to do it. The delightful image played over and over in his mind.

He knew he needed to be very careful in how he proceeded. If she did, indeed, have some sort of hidden agenda as Joe had suggested, then any misstep on his part would only provide her with more fuel. Bryce had to make sure everything was totally proper and aboveboard—a thought that led him back to his curiosity over her comment about business ethics.

He leaned back in the recliner, closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. He needed to get some sleep. A few minutes later his conscious thoughts were replaced by the subconscious workings of his mind.

The private jet streaked its way eastward through the night sky, eventually traveling into daylight.

Paige woke with a start as the morning sun shone through the window and landed on her face. She sat up abruptly and looked around, trying to get her bearings. She knew she was still on the jet, but did not recall leaving the main cabin. Nor did she remember exactly when she fell asleep, other than the fact that it was somewhere during file number three. Her suitcase sat on the floor by the bed and her shoes were next to it. She took a quick shower. As soon as she finished dressing she went to the main cabin.

She found Bryce stretched out in one of the recliners, his fingers laced together and his hands resting casually across his stomach. He was asleep. He seemed totally and completely at ease. Absolutely no tension showed on his face. She watched him for a moment. She scowled as a twinge of disgust jabbed at her. It was evident that he did not allow his ruthless business tactics to disturb his peace of mind.

As Paige continued to watch him, he began to stir. Suddenly he bolted upright in the chair, instantly wide awake.

“Bradford!” He stared at her for a long moment wondering what had been going through her mind to cause the strange expression on her face. He immediately assumed command of the situation. “Well—” he rose from the chair and stretched his arms above his head “—I see you’re finally awake. Maybe now you’ll have time to finish going over those files. You seem to have fallen asleep in the middle of number three.” With that, he turned and went to the galley to fix some coffee.

“Finally awake?” Her hackles stood on end as she glared at him. She could not prevent the animosity from creeping into her voice. “Just what do you mean by that? You can’t expect people to work twenty-four hours a day.”

Either he didn’t hear her or was purposely ignoring her questions. Either way, perhaps it was just as well. She needed to watch her step. She knew she was in a position to be able to uncover the type of information she needed. She didn’t want to do anything to cause him to fire her from this job. Yes, caution was definitely in order regardless of his having just exhibited yet another example of his abrupt behavior.

She backed off for a moment as she watched him. She silently acknowledged that he was fixing the coffee himself rather than expecting her to do it. She tightened her jaw again. That was the only thing she would admit. She retrieved files three and four from the table then sat down on the couch to continue where she had left off before falling asleep.

“Here, Bradford.” Bryce set a cup of coffee next to her. “Hurry up and finish with those files. We’re landing in an hour.” With that, he took his coffee and went into the back cabin.

Paige continued reading the files, closing file number four half an hour later just as he opened the door and came back into the main cabin clean shaven and wearing fresh clothes. She did not entirely understand all the ramifications of his proposal for profits and how they would be allocated, but the amount of notes, including his hand-written notations, indicated to her that the London art gallery was his pet project. She recalled Bryce’s degree in fine art, which would account for his interest.

“Any questions, Bradford?”

“None that I can think of right now.”

He flashed a quick smile that said he knew better. “There will be.” He dismissed the subject as he reached for the coffeepot to refill his cup. He held up the pot in her direction, cocked his head and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Bradford?”

She held up her cup. “Yes, thank you.”

It annoyed her, the way he looked as rested as if he had just had eight hours’ sleep in a comfortable bed rather than a few hours in a chair. She entertained a brief question as to why he had allowed her to have the bed. She did not remember walking, so he must have carried her into the cabin. It had been a very considerate gesture on his part. She quickly reined in her thoughts. It would take more than one moment of consideration to alter her opinion of him and what he represented.

She wondered what other unexpected thoughts would force themselves upon her as a result of her in-person association with this man—this dynamic and impressive man. In the secret recesses of her mind she began to wonder if she had gotten in way over her head.

“Buckle your seat belt, Bradford. We’re approaching the airport.”

The jet touched down for a perfect landing. Bryce gathered the files Paige had been reading plus the papers he had been working on and shoved them into a briefcase, then thrust it into her hands.

“You take this, Bradford. I’ll get the suitcases.”

They exited the plane, cleared customs, then went immediately to the taxi that whisked them into London. Forty-five minutes later he unlocked the front door of an attractive flat in the fashionable Knightsbridge section. After depositing the suitcases on the living-room floor he launched into a quick tour. It was a much larger place than it appeared from the outside.

There were three bedrooms, a large living room, a dining room, kitchen and two bathrooms. “The front bedroom is the largest and is used as an office.” He indicated the door, then headed down the hall.

She stuck her head through the opened door to give a quick look, then hurried to catch up with Bryce who was already at the next room.

“This is my bedroom, and that—” he pointed to the next room down the hall “—is the guest bedroom.”

Paige really had not formulated any definite thoughts about sleeping arrangements. Even though Eileen said she would be staying at the corporate flat, it had not occurred to her that they would be sleeping this close to each other. She felt the scowl spread across her face, but was unable to stop it before it caught his attention.

“You look angry. Is there a problem of some sort?”

Paige swallowed the words she wanted to say, instead making an inadequate attempt at covering up. “Uh…no, of course not.” She was in a precarious situation. She didn’t trust him, but it was not an uneasiness over her physical safety. What she didn’t trust was the concerned good guy persona he tried to project. But she didn’t dare let on…not if she wanted to stay on his good side so she could find the proof she needed.

Bryce’s brisk manner gave no indication of his thoughts. “If there’s no problem, then let’s get to work. As soon as you unpack, I want you to transcribe all the material I dictated on the plane. I’ve left the tape next to the computer. I’m sure you’ll find everything you need in the office.” He disappeared inside his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Paige picked up her suitcase and took it into the guest room as she considered what had just happened. It had been a bad slip to let Bryce see her displeasure. She could not afford for her inner feelings and ulterior motives to seep through. She had to continue to appear as simply another one of his employees. She couldn’t risk antagonizing him, at least not until she had what she wanted.

The problem was…well…he had her confused. She knew exactly who and what he was, but he refused to fit into the mold she had created for him in her mind. Yes, indeed—Bryce Lexington had her very confused. And not the least of it was her undeniable attraction to him, an attraction she needed to squash before it caused her real problems. She toyed with the notion that some of her antagonism toward him just might be a defensive mechanism directly related to that attraction.

After unpacking, she went down the hall to the office where she found the tape next to the computer. She listened to the first three letters without transcribing anything, then stopped the tape. He was truly amazing. He dictated as if he were actually reading something—no pauses to think, no changing his mind. She rewound the tape and started from the beginning.

She had barely finished the letters when the phone rang. When it rang a second time without Bryce making an appearance from his bedroom, she quickly grabbed it before it could ring a third time.

“Hello…yes, and who…uh, please hold a moment.”

She knocked softly at his bedroom door, her senses still numbed by the identity of the caller—the French ambassador himself, in person rather than his secretary. When she received no response to her knock, she called out to him. “Mr. Lexington…uh, Bryce?”

His voice came from behind the closed door. “Don’t stand out in the hall, Bradford. Come on in.”

She cautiously opened his bedroom door, not at all sure what she would find. He was turning out to be one surprise after another. Bryce sat on an exercise cycle, pedaling away while reading a book.

“A phone call for you. It’s the French ambassador.”

He wore only a pair of jogging shorts. His entire body, from his broad shoulders down to the bottom of his long legs, was taut and muscular without being muscle-bound and every bit of exposed skin was as tanned as his face. He obviously spent a great deal of time in the sun.

Paige experienced the same jolt of sensual desire as when they’d first met. Not only was he the most incredibly handsome man she had ever seen, he was an ideal specimen of the perfect male physique. A wave of heated desire swept through her body making it feel as if the temperature in the room had jumped at least twenty degrees. She quickly brought her gaze back to Bryce’s face for fear that she might be tempted to mentally remove his jogging shorts.