Promises We Make

“Quite the contrary.” A smirk lit up her eyes. “I was, um, how do I put this nicely? I wasn’t quite satisfied when you were done, so I went home to finish the job.”

Her eyes sliced across his face, but it was her words that cut him deep. She’d faked her orgasms? The truth was more stunning than a blow to the head, and for a moment Damien was speechless. He needed time to absorb her words, to think things over, but unfortunately Niveah wasn’t through with him yet.

“And one other thing.…”

Proud she had reclaimed the upper hand, she launched a second, more explosive assault. “I’ve been with this company for ten years and I don’t plan on going anywhere. I’m damn good at what I do, and no arrogant hotshot from New York is going to steal the VP position from me. I deserve this promotion, not you. But if you think you can compete with me, bring it on.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Most definitely.”

“You have no idea what you’re doing, Ms. Evans. I’ll trample all over you.”

“You’re funny, Damien.” Her smile was sweet, but her tone was ice. “When I’m named vice president in June, I think I just might let you keep your job. And this adorable little office.”

Her mission accomplished, she strode past him and out the door with her head held high.

Damien’s eyebrows shot up. This was the woman he was expected to work with on the Discreet Boutique ad campaign? Did someone have it out for him, or what! He felt drained, beaten down, as if he’d just had his ass kicked by a man twice his size. And it was all because of Niveah. A sister who looked like an angel but had a heart of stone.

It was a challenge, but Damien tried to look on the bright side. At least she’d answered some of his questions. Their meeting on New Year’s Eve had been a stroke of luck, not some elaborate scheme to blackmail him. But there was still the matter of her stealing his watch—and faking her orgasms. Was Niveah telling the truth or just trying to stick it to him?

His thoughts returned to the night in question. Damien could still hear her moans, still feel her thighs locked around his waist, still smell the scent of their fervent lovemaking. His desire for her was overwhelming, and for the first time in his life he’d put the needs of his lover above his own. To please her, he’d honored all of her requests. He’d stroked her vulva, kissed her clitoris, eagerly licked the rim of the swollen lips between her legs. Then, when she couldn’t stand it anymore, he’d flipped her onto her stomach and plunged inside her with all his might.

“Faked an orgasm my ass,” he grumbled, striding over to his desk and plopping onto his chair. He’d been with a lot of women in his life, but he’d never seen a woman lose control like that in bed. He didn’t profess to be a stud between the sheets, but he refused to believe he hadn’t pleased Niveah. Not when she’d been clawing his back, screaming his name, and begging for more. The sister was obviously emotionally unstable, and if he knew what was good for him, he’d stay the hell away from her.

To keep his mind off his argument with Niveah, Damien organized his office and finished unpacking the boxes he’d lugged in from his car hours earlier. The rest of the day flew by, and if one of the guys from the finance department hadn’t stopped by to invite him for after-work drinks, he would have worked past quitting time.

The first thing Damien did when he walked into the upscale martini bar was scope out the lounge area for Niveah. She was nowhere to be found. He felt a pang of disappointment, but quickly stamped it out. Niveah Evans was the enemy, and he’d be wise to always remember that.

“Damien!”

“Hey, man, what’s up!”

“Welcome to the team!”

Damien chuckled when he spotted his colleagues at one of the corner tables. As he strode through the bar, he retrieved his cell phone from his coat pocket. He had one message. Worried something might be wrong at home, he quickly punched in his password. He plugged his left ear with his index finger and turned away from the loud, gaily chattering patrons at the bar.

A woman with a pleasant voice identified herself as the assistant manager at the Ritz-Carlton hotel. “Earlier today, someone in the cleaning crew found your watch in suite 1284. We apologize for any distress this may have caused you, but it’s available for pickup at the front desk of our downtown location. Mr. Hunter, if you have any questions or concerns, please don’t hesitate to call me here at the hotel.”

Damien deleted the message and shoved his cell phone back into his pocket. Damn. He’d accused Niveah of stealing his watch, but it had been back in his hotel suite all along. “A fine mess I’ve created this time,” he grumbled, expelling a breath.

The right thing to do was to apologize, but Damien would rather eat a bowl of crickets than say “sorry” to the snotty creative director. Since Niveah hadn’t apologized for skipping out on him on New Year’s Eve, he wouldn’t apologize for calling her a thief. An eye for an eye, right?

As he reached the table where his coworkers were sitting, a full-figured brunette wearing more makeup than a circus clown surged to her feet. “Mr. Hunter, take a load off. I saved you a seat right here beside me.”

Reluctantly, he sat down in the vacant chair.

“How was your first day of work? Getting a feel for the place yet?” she asked, staring at him intently. “I can show you around tomorrow during my coffee break, if you’d like.”

“No, thanks. If you’ve seen one photocopier, you’ve seen them all!”

The woman erupted in fake over-the-top giggles.

“Sir, what can I get you?”

Damien gave the waitress his order and listened with half an ear as his colleagues talked about their jobs, families and plans for the weekend. A popular country song came on, and the table quickly emptied, leaving Damien alone with one of the guys he’d met during lunch.

“Where’s boss lady tonight? I expected her to be here, hanging out with the team.”

“Niveah would never be caught dead in a place like this. This bar, like all of us, is beneath her.” The computer specialist scrubbed at his pockmarked cheek. “But you’ll see for yourself what a piece of work she is.”

“She isn’t that bad, is she?”

“Butter wouldn’t melt in that woman’s mouth,” he snarled, a bitter expression on his tanned face. “What she needs is a good lay. If she had someone to rock her world on a regular basis, she wouldn’t be such a raging bit—”

Damien gripped his arm. “Don’t.”

The fury in his tone must have shone through, because fear flashed in the man’s eyes. “Sorry, you’re right. That’s no way to talk about a member of our team.”

“Just don’t let it happen again.” Damien didn’t like Niveah, and he suspected that everything the computer specialist said was true, but he hated hearing such a smart, successful woman being disrespected—even one he couldn’t stand. “What’s her story? Do you know much about her life outside of the office?”

“The office is her life. Niveah works evenings, weekends and has been known to come in on holidays, too.” He paused to drink his beer. “She was engaged to a hotshot entertainment lawyer last year, but he broke things off just weeks before the wedding. No one knows for sure what happened, but there are rumors circulating that he had a chick on the side. Lucky bastard!”

The man chuckled, but Damien didn’t.