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Carnal Beginnings: A dark romantic suspense (Carnal Series Book 1) Page 2


  Direct hit.

  “Ugh…” Julien scooped the sticky fruit pastry off his shoulder and deposited the mess on his plate with a grunt, grateful they weren’t suit-and-tie types. “Food fight, guys? Really?” It would be nice to keep the dignity of the office to a minimum standard but that often failed when all siblings were in range. If they had to act loutish, they could at least have better pastries.

  With a napkin and a little water from his glass, he cleaned his shirt.

  “Jackie, can you schedule Conner some time with a personal trainer to teach him how to not throw like a girl?” Nate, the peacekeeper between the four, turned traitor, instigating trouble.

  “Yes, sir, just as soon as I spray this cloud of testosterone with some estrogen.” Jackie smiled sweetly.

  Owning your own business generated a certain amount of freedom. Working as a private investigator with your brothers permitted lenient policies and practices. A priceless commodity. They held high standards when it came to work, but office time sanctioned a relaxed atmosphere with everyone except Adara. Anger churned in Julien’s gut with the thought of anyone extinguishing her spark of life.

  Flashbacks of the standard, prehire background check flitted through his mind. Orphaned for the second time at age fifteen, she lived with an uncle and cousin. Excellent grades through most of high school contrasted with the drop off when her adoptive parents died. Nothing to set off catastrophic alarm bells on the surface. Yet she equaled more than the sum of her parts—much more than her beautiful, haunted blue eyes, soft-spoken demeanor, and shy smile.

  Many headaches ensued from botched attempts at finagling more than their fragile working bond. She never failed to help others, but remained self-controlled, self-monitored, hesitant, an enigma that held a little Adara badass waiting just under the surface. His instincts rarely proved wrong.

  Job experience taught him to read people, something at which he excelled. And still haven’t been able to crack her shell yet. With Julien, observance, and patience were generally synonymous, as long as he wasn’t pouring water.

  “Guess that’s it then.” Conner shrugged his shoulders and winked at Adara, knowing it would drive Julien apeshit.

  “Adara, isn’t your twenty-first birthday coming up soon?” Marc’s grin heralded the start of the next world war.

  Julien’s cheeks ached from clenching his jaw. Leave her the hell alone.

  She merely nodded with a small frown, staring at her hands folded on her files. A round of applause and congratulations sounded around the table. The crimson spreading up her neck and face darkened with the round of congratulations filling the room.

  “That’s great. How about we all go out tonight? My treat,” Marc added with a wide grin to Julien. “My pathetic younger brother needs a dinner companion.”

  Julien considered tossing his stack of files at the instigator. A tic began around his left eye as he rubbed his forehead, trying to remember why he loved his family. They’d always been close—sometimes, too close.

  “Um, thanks, guys, but I can’t. I appreciate the offer, though.” Adara fidgeted with her notes. Her brief eye contact with Julien resulted in a deeper blush before sliding away.

  “Okay. That’s it for the meeting. Everybody back to work.” Julien closed his laptop and sighed. “Day’s not over yet.”

  * * * *

  “Always the last one out, huh, Adara? See something you want?” Jackie flipped her glossy hair as her sly smile flicked over Julien. “I’d set my sights to match your own species if I were you…”

  Jackie’s undercurrent of animosity never failed to bite Adara whenever Julien was near. At least the others have left. Adara didn’t know if raging estrogen kept Jackie hot on her boss’ trail or the need to remain office queen prompted the nastiness. Julien never seemed to notice the witch’s efforts.

  “Just being thorough. Don’t want to leave anything undone.” With a dignity she didn’t feel, Adara rose from her chair after taking her time to straighten her folders. The idea of accidently bumping into someone made her procrastinate—clumsy should be her middle name. At one time she’d thought herself somewhat graceful, that her ballet classes had kept her agile. Now she prayed to avoid collision with one disaster or another.

  “Actually,” Julien glanced at her and smiled, “I find that you, Adara, are the most thorough and conscientious assistant I’ve ever known. I wish everyone could live up to your standards.” One brow hiked up and a certain coldness settled in his features as his gaze raked Jackie with a dismissive glare.

  Adara both loved and hated their weekly meetings. Camaraderie among the brothers grounded her, reminding her of the near-idyllic life with her parents before the accident. She hadn’t realized at that time how happy she’d been—or how quickly life could change.

  The compulsive glance over her shoulder to note the bitch’s position proved a mistake and another disaster in the making. Julien stood to her side, his intense gaze incited an inner shaking. Awkwardness reared its head again as her left foot caught on a chair leg.

  When she dropped a file from her stack of folders, Jackie snorted. “Maybe you should invest in some glasses, Adara. Otherwise, those darn chairs might just keep attacking you.”

  “Enough, Jackie. I believe you have work to do.” The voice. Julien’s deep timbre brooked no argument. Ever.

  Papers drifted on micro-currents, floating—where else but to the source of her anxiety, Julien. The whisper-soft fluttering ended with them settling gracefully at his feet. Quickly she stooped to gather them, thankful she didn’t wear dresses or skirts. The snicker from her inner conscience overrode Jackie’s snort of derision.

  “Sorry, sweetie. I’m sure you’ll get better, Adara.” The sneer in the bitch’s voice dripped contempt. If disdain were a royal garment, the office bitch would wear it coiled so tight around her body the interwoven fibers would join with her on a cellular level. Wrinkling her nose as if she’d stepped in something noxious, she turned and left the room.

  Adara didn’t know which bothered her more, enduring Jackie’s condescending attitude or Julien’s focused attention. I can gather my own papers. The heat of his gaze brought an intense warmth to her face. When her gaze flicked to his, the small brackets at the corners of his eyes betrayed his tension.

  With close proximity, his cologne snared her attention as much as the force of his focus, the same spice her father used to wear. The gaze sure wasn’t anything she’d seen before. Eyes on the floor, girl.

  “Are you all right, Adara?”

  The quiet intensity of his tone made her stomach clench. Her hands shook as she tried to straighten the stack of folders. If he would have just left with Jackie—his nearness made her gulp.

  Don’t look at his eyes! The fake smile she plastered on her face wouldn’t fool him. Nothing ever did. “I’m fine, Mr.—”

  The words stuck in her throat. Yeah, she just had to look. She spent her working life stealing glances. Now, his gaze scorched her like the dry ice Uncle Tony brought home for his son. Her hands stopped shaking simply because they froze despite the instinctual need to escape, a protective measure as old as time.

  “You seem a little tense today. Anything I can do to help?”

  The deep resonance thawed her mind if not her body. “N-no, sir. I’m fine.” Was that disappointment in his expression or resignation?

  Silently he placed the gathered papers on her stack before lifting them all to the tabletop. His fingers brushed hers.

  “Oh.” Adara jumped when his hand steadied her as she stood. Heat flamed up her neck while a tingling at her elbow served up proof of their attraction. What he wouldn’t know was the arid quality of her mouth matched the heat climbing her cheeks, both desiccating her thoughts.

  Then he did it. He smiled. Jeez. If not for the continued hand at her elbow, she’d land in a mushy pile of confusion at his feet. He’d deduce that from the tremor rippling through her limbs.

  This job meant more to her than any
one at the firm could imagine. Working for private investigators—she learned everything she could and prayed it would be enough. The newfound knowledge would give her a new life. Her existence depended on it.

  Chapter Two

  “Hello, Angel. How’s the spy biz?”

  The vase of flowers appearing from behind was set down to the side of Adara’s desk blotter. The voice belonged to a weasel deserving a headstone.

  “Hi, Simmie. How’s it going?”

  “Better, now that you’re near.”

  His foul exhalation brushed her nostrils with the scents of stale coffee and cigarettes. Holding her breath provided temporary relief until he leaned over her shoulder and set his other arm on her chair back, effectively preventing her escape. The cage of his arms incited panic, sending her gaze around the room to see if anyone watched, especially Jackie, who wouldn’t keep her mouth shut.

  “Wow, what a beautiful arrangement. What in the world are they? Looks so exotic, perfect for our little lost angel.” Jackie’s practiced smile brought a round of derisive chuckles from her friends.

  “They happen to be a mix of cymbidium orchids, yellow leucadendrons, red gladioli, lily grass, and equisetum. These are galax leaves.” He flicked a finger at the long glossy foliage. “But I’m sure our little firecracker already knows this. Right, Angel?”

  When he leaned in closer, the brush of his lips in her hair brought acid to sear the back of her throat.

  After a brief smile at Adara, Simmie winked at Jackie. The hated weekly visits overstepped the boundaries of casual acquaintance and tested her limits in perseverance. Now that she didn’t work with him anymore, his unwanted advances progressed at an alarming rate. If she told her uncle or cousin, it would make her life worse, much worse. “My dad and mom used to grow these flowers in their hothouse. Thank you, Simmie, but you really shouldn’t have.” In her mind’s eye, she wished the stalker a raging case of venereal disease, which he probably already carried. “I’ll get your report for you. Let me check with Julien to make sure it’s ready.”

  “No hurry, Angel. I’ve got lots of time. Matter of fact, why don’t I take you out to lunch? It’s a beautiful day, we can grab a bite at the dock restaurant and watch the boats come and go. Wouldn’t you like that?” His hand on the back of her chair drifted to the back of her neck, massaging.

  The shudder sweeping her spine and spreading outward originated from fear. Intuition based on no tangible evidence guided her to duck forward. “Um, sorry, Simmie, I can’t today. I’ve got too much work to do.”

  “So your boss doesn’t allow you to eat lunch?”

  “Well, y-yes b-but I’ve got some other things I need to do during my break.” With purposeful intent, Adara tried to roll her chair back, the need to escape trumping her anxiety. Panic clawed at her chest when his foot prevented its backward movement.

  “Anything I can help with, Angel? You know, we never did go out when you stopped working for us. You owe me a date.”

  “S-Simmie, I can’t. I just don’t date.” Her eyes narrowed when the back of his fingers grazed the side of her face. When she turned her head, he merely slid his fingers to cup her chin and imprison her. Mere inches from his face, his pupils dilated and nose flared slightly.

  She was cornered.

  “Don’t run from me, little mink.”

  Again her gaze darted around the room, flitted to Julien’s office—not at his desk. Damn.

  “You said you couldn’t go out then ’cause I was the boss’ son. But you don’t work for me anymore. So…”

  “Dude. She doesn’t want to go out with you. Take the hint and keep your paws off. Weekly flowers won’t change her mind.” Maura, her one true friend in the office, spoke up to say what Adara couldn’t. Thank God her voice escalated in volume and brought the much-needed help.

  “Do not touch a woman without her permission.” Julien’s tone conveyed menace to anyone within range.

  A deep breath cleared the fog of trepidation and confusion surrounding Adara’s brain. She hadn’t heard Julien’s approach.

  Simmie gave her a meaningful pinch and retreated one step, overshadowed by Julien.

  “Um, Simmie, uh, Mr. Lockes is here for his weekly report. I was just coming to ask if I could print it out and give it to him.” Unable to hold Julien’s gaze, Adara dropped hers to the desk.

  Julien closed the distance, extending his hand to her. An escape more than invitation, it offered protection and solace. Stifling a gasp, she didn’t hesitate for a second. The whole-body tremble prevented a smirk at Simmie, but she caught Julien’s glare at the would-be suitor. A scowl and narrowed gaze declared the cold war unfinished.

  “Mr. Lockes. Remember this. When a lady says no, she means no. And don’t ever touch an employee of mine without permission. Understood?” The tension in Julien’s hand matched her own.

  If Julien felt her tremble, he gave no indication, instead placing his hand lightly at her back. “Come into my office, Adara and let’s get that report.” A glare over his shoulder accompanied the directive. “Mr. Lockes, wait in the receptionist’s area. Your report will be out momentarily. In future, call before arriving and remain in the receptionist’s area.” Julien turned his full attention to her, though his tight smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  So handsome—if ever a flesh-and-blood man became a knight in shining armor, he’d be the ultimate specimen. Every day she came to work and sat at her desk, wishing her life held a different course. Before her parents died, she’d dreamed of such a man, strong, confident, kind, and caring. Since moving in with her uncle and cousin, most men’s presence brought nothing but fear.

  * * * *

  Julien kept his mouth shut as he led Adara into his office and closed the door. Not until he saw her seated and color returning to her cheeks did he dare open his mouth. As close a watch as he kept on her, he hadn’t seen the weasel approach her desk. Yet the entitled prick not only cornered her, but had the nerve to caress her. He’d practically hung up on a client to get to her. Tough shit.

  “Adara, are you all right? I’ve never tried to interfere in your personal business, but you looked trapped, white as a sheet. Is that a boyfriend? Perhaps…ex-boyfriend?” Julien leaned on the edge of his desk to face Adara without crowding her.

  “Um, sorry, Mr. Crofton. I—”

  “Julien, remember? Please call me Julien. Everyone else here does.”

  “Um, yes, sorry. Oh, but no. He’s not a boyfriend. I worked with him at my previous job. He’s the boss’ son, always wanting to take me out to lunch. I refused. He’s part of the reason I left that job. Now, he just keeps trying.”

  “I see. Well, I think it’s time his father finds another investigator for his needs. This office doesn’t need that crap.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t lead him on. I swear it. Am I fired?”

  “What? Of course not. It’s not your fault he’s a slimeball who can’t take a hint. With your consent, I’ll reinforce his understanding of the phrase, not interested.”

  “Thank you. I hope he gets the message.”

  “Oh, he’ll get it. Loud and clear.”

  Julien rounded his desk and sat to punch up the weasel’s report. The quiet hum of his printer provided a soothing white noise against the rage that filled him. He hadn’t realized his assistant came with her own personal stalker, something he should’ve known. “Looks like you could use a drink, hon.” Fury made his fingers shake as he stood at his water cooler and waited for the cup to fill. The cool temperature chilled the paper container and brought with it, a little sanity.

  “Take this and drink it, Adara.” When his fingers, brushed hers, her quick inhalation didn’t go unnoticed. Again, not the time. He had vermin to deal with.

  “I’ll be back in a minute. You sit tight and catch your breath while I deliver this final report.” And kill the little prick. The muscle around his eye twitched as he grabbed the report from the printer and folded it in an envelope.

 
After closing the door firmly behind him, he strode with purpose to the receptionist’s area. The urge to snatch up the flower arrangement and thrust it back at the sender made his steps falter. Maybe Adara would like them. Just seeing it en route fueled his anger.

  The look of alarm on the secretary’s face told him to dial down his need for violence. Worse yet, he couldn’t determine which pissed him off more. Adara having a stalker, or that another man knew what type of flowers she liked. He’d seen exotic arrangements in the office before, but on Maura’s desk. Now he knew their origin.

  Chapter Three

  “Adara, that guy broke my creep meter. Are you okay? You look deathly pale.” Maura wheeled her chair a little closer as her smile lent sanity to a loathsome day.

  “I’m fine. Thanks. He just doesn’t understand the word no.”

  “Oh, I think he’s gotten the message now.” Maura’s indelicate snort preceded her chuckle.

  Adara offered a tentative smile as Julien came out of Nate’s office and headed toward his own. His expression remained tight, she didn’t know if she or Simmie was the source.

  I can’t afford to lose this job.

  “You haven’t received any more anonymous phone breathers, have you?” Maura’s nasal voice, though soft, obviously carried to Julien in passing. He stopped cold yet didn’t turn around.

  “No. Nothing else has happened.” The sound of Julien’s knuckles cracking as he strode off made Adara shudder. Worry that she had become more trouble than she was worth kept her fidgeting with the flowers. “Here, Maura, these would look better on your desk.”

  Taking the flowers, Maura added, “Maybe you should talk to Julien about it. Having repeated hang ups is one thing, but when you get a note on your car—that’s crossing the line. Do you think it’s Simmie stalking you?” Hushed tones still carried, as evidenced by Jackie and the other PA pausing their work for her answer.