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Mine to Hold, Page 2

Cynthia Eden


  “You stayed across the street for so long. I was wondering when you’d get the courage to come to me.”

  She crossed to the windows. Stared down. They were up so high. “How could you see me clearly?”

  “When it comes to you, Claire, I can see plenty.”

  Now she looked back over her shoulder at him.

  “Want a drink?” he asked her.

  “No, I want a job.” Okay, those words had just blurted out. She’d meant to broach the subject of her employment in a much more elegant way. She was sure that had been her plan. But when she got nervous, elegance tended to vanish from her repertoire.

  Noah crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s a problem.”

  Oh, damn. She’d had such high hopes. Keep your pride, Claire. It’s all you have. Her chin notched up. “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just something temporary. You’ve got dozens of hotels, I’m sure that you can—”

  “I don’t fuck with my employees.”

  Wait, what? Her jaw dropped.

  “And I very much want to have sex with you.”

  She shook her head. Claire wasn’t sure if she was denying his words or just—“You didn’t just say that to me.”

  His lips quirked. Amusement flashed in the depths of his golden eyes. “I assure you, I did. I believe in honesty.”

  She didn’t know what to say. “I’m not…” Okay, this was getting way past her control. “I’m not here for sex. I’m here for a job.”

  “Do you feel it?” Noah asked as his gaze seemed to heat with emotion. “Or is it just me?”

  “Is what just you?” Claire whispered.

  “I look at you, and my whole body burns. I want you naked. I want you screaming. I want to see pleasure make your eyes flash even brighter.”

  Her breath came faster. Rougher.

  “So I wondered if that was just me. Is the arousal all on my side? The attraction?” His gaze dipped to her mouth. “Or do you feel it, too?”

  I feel it. But Claire had rules. So many rules. She licked her lips. Saw the gold in his eyes go molten. “I’m not…I’m not interested in having sex with you.”

  His dark brows rose. “Are you very sure about that?”

  No. Yes. Claire hadn’t taken a lover in years.

  Nine years, to be exact.

  Not since she’d learned how dangerous a lover could be. She pulled at the left sleeve of her jacket. “Sex won’t be an issue.” Claire cleared her throat. “I need the job. You said that you owed me.” She didn’t actually think that he did owe her. He certainly hadn’t caused her injury in Chicago, but in that desperate moment, she’d try to play on any sense of debt that he might feel. “I-I need the job.”

  He took a slow step toward her.

  “Please,” she said, truly desperate and—

  A flash of anger crossed his face. In the next instant, Noah was right in front of her. “Don’t ever do that.”

  Do what? Lost, she could only shake her head.

  “You don’t have to beg me for anything. Remember that.” His hands lifted, then his fingers fisted as if he were trying to resist the urge to touch her. “If you want a job with me, it’s yours.”

  Her breath expelled in a relieved burst. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t want your gratitude.” His eyes still burned. “I want you, and that wanting isn’t just going to stop.”

  She could actually feel the heat from his body. It warmed her when she’d been cold for so long.

  “But I meant what I said,” Noah continued, his voice deep and rumbling. “I don’t fuck with my employees.”

  “Y-you won’t be f-fucking with me.”

  His lips thinned. “We’ll see. I don’t want you to beg, I think I was pretty clear about that…you should never have to beg for anything. But I will wait and let you ask me to be your lover.”

  That shocked her. “It’s not happening.”

  “We’ll see.” He turned away from her. Paced toward a desk that waited in the corner. “You graduated at the top of your class at Washington State University. Received a Bachelor’s degree in Business Management, then got your MBA.”

  He’d checked her out?

  “But you’ve barely stayed at any job longer than six months since you got your MBA.” His fingers tapped lightly on the edge of the desk. “Why is that?”

  “Because my past keeps catching up with me.” And she did not, could not, talk about her past then. She’d lost her last job because her boss found out about her.

  Noah’s expression hardened. “Are you in danger, Claire?” A new note had entered his voice. Rougher. Harder.

  A shiver slid over her. “No.” Not any longer. At least, she shouldn’t be. She cleared her throat. “I have…a powerful enemy. He likes to punish me, so he tends to make sure I don’t exactly have the best employment prospects.” Please, please, Noah, just accept what I say and don’t ask any other questions.

  Her gaze dropped to the manila file on his desk. Understanding hit her hard and had Claire backing up a step. If he’d learned about her college, then… “You already know.”

  His shoulders tensed as he straightened to fully face her.

  “You know everything that happened to me, don’t you?” And she hated that. Claire rarely talked about her past. It hurt too much. For Noah to know. For this sexy, strong man to know all her dark secrets—

  The knowledge of her exposure to him just made her feel weak. Too exposed.

  He held her gaze. “I know you’re a survivor, and that’s all that matters to me.”

  She blinked quickly because, for some reason, his words had her eyes tearing. Claire would not cry in front of him. She didn’t cry in front of anyone.

  “I don’t really give a shit how powerful the enemy from your past is,” he continued, voice deep, “because I’m pretty sure I’ve got just as much…if not more…power.”

  Claire thought he did, too. That was why she’d come to him. If anyone could stand up to the man after her, it would be Noah. “I just want a chance.”

  Noah inclined his head. “Like I said, I’ll give you a job.”

  Her shoulders slumped. The relief that hit her then was so dizzying she felt a little light-headed for a minute. The last nine years had been so hard. And with her sister’s death just a few months before…the demons that chased Claire seemed to have just grown stronger.

  “I know I have to start at the bottom,” Claire said, her words coming fast now, “and that’s fine. You just tell me who to report to, and I’ll—”

  “You’ll report to me, Claire. Only me.”

  Her lips parted. “But—”

  “I need an assistant, and you just got the job.”

  That was…wow. “I can do it,” she promised him. “I’ll prove that I can—”

  “I already know you can do it.” He tilted his head as he studied her. “But you should be aware that we’ll have to work very closely together. My hours are crazy, and I’ll expect you to be at my beck and call pretty much twenty-four, seven.”

  She nodded. She had no social life, so that was a done deal.

  “Where are you staying?” Noah asked.

  “The Hamlet, over on—”

  “It’s a dump, Claire.” The anger was back on his face and in his voice. “A man was shot there last week.”

  And two men had been arrested there last night. But when you were trying to save every bit of money you had, well, you didn’t have the luxury of being choosy about your hotel.

  His jaw locked. “I’ll make sure you have a room available here at the Towers.”

  “But…”

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. “You aren’t staying there any longer.”

  “What will the other staff members think?” Claire asked as she shifted her feet nervously. “If I just move in here, even if it’s just for a few days, they’ll talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Other staff members stay here.” He waved that concern away. “Like I told you, I don’t sleep with my employees. No one will think anything of your sleeping accommodations at the Towers.”

  Right. Claire nodded and sighed in relief. “Th-thank you, Noah. I won’t forget this.” Claire squared her shoulders. She walked toward him. Offered her hand.

  He stared down at her hand for a moment, then his fingers curled around hers. His hand was so big that it seemed to swallow her own. His flesh was golden, warm, and at that touch—a touch she’d instigated—a surge of sensual awareness flooded through her.

  Just from his hand? Such a simple touch…

  “And we will get to this part,” he murmured as his fingers tightened around hers. “Then you’ll have to choose…if you want to keep working for me or if you want to fuck me.”

  ***

  He had Claire Kramer, and he wasn’t letting her go.

  Noah York was used to getting what he wanted in life, and for the last few months, he’d wanted her.

  Noah led Claire to the room he’d arranged for her. She probably didn’t know that he’d had that room—a suite also on the same floor with his—cleared out when he’d gotten her call. He and Claire now occupied the only two suites on that floor.

  He needed her close. He’d have her close.

  And, eventually, he would get exactly what he wanted from her.

  He’d watched her that morning as she stood outside, the wind sending her blonde hair flying around her shoulders. He’d been afraid that Claire wasn’t going to walk into his hotel.

  Come to me, Claire. Come to me.

  Then she had.

  He opened the door to her suite. Heard her soft gasp. Good. That sound better mean she liked the place.

  “There is no way I can afford this!” Claire turned in a circle as her eyes swept around the suite. “Give me another room. This hotel is huge, just put me—”

  “I need my assistant nearby,” he said smoothly. “I do business at all hours, just like I told you. This floor is reserved for me and my associates.” A partial lie. “If you’re going to work for me,” Noah added, “you really do need to start learning how to follow my orders.”

  She bit her lower lip. That lip was sexy and full, and he’d like to be the one biting it.

  “Staying close is an order,” he told her as his stare swept over her once more.

  In the past, he’d gone more for the dark-haired beauties. But Claire—Claire with her blonde hair and blue eyes—she was different for him. Her heart-shaped face kept catching his gaze. Those high cheeks, that small nose. When the light hit her hair just right, she almost looked like an angel.

  One who’d fallen so very far.

  Claire had lush curves that he couldn’t wait to explore. Rounded hips and tempting breasts that he knew would be perfect for his hands.

  But not yet.

  Because Claire still feared him. He had to work past that fear.

  He would.

  “I’ll get your things brought over from the Hamlet,” he told her, aware that his voice had hardened. He couldn’t help it. When he thought of Claire and sex, his response was immediate.

  “I only have one bag there.” Her shoulders lifted in a faint shrug. “I’ve learned to travel light over the years.”

  Because she’d been forced to do so.

  Things were going to change for Claire. Noah believed in protecting what was his.

  Claire, you don’t know it yet, but you will be mine.

  “I don’t need you to get the bag, though,” Claire said as she notched up her chin. “I’m perfectly capable of doing that on my own.” She cast one more nervous glance around the suite. “I’ll…um…I’ll go do that now, and I’ll come back and get settled. That way, I can get started working this afternoon.” Her eyelashes—so long—flickered. “If that’s okay with you?”

  “I’ll come with you to the Hamlet.” He wasn’t ready to let her out of his sight yet. The last time he’d done that, when he’d thought she might want a little time to grieve privately in Chicago, Claire had vanished.

  It had taken him weeks to track her down. Claire had a talent for disappearing. He wasn’t about to let her use that talent again.

  Instead of arguing with him, Claire surprised him then. She smiled.

  Noah stiffened.

  Claire’s smile was slow, beginning with a faint curve of her lips. The smile spread, showing a dimple in each cheek. He’d never noticed those dimples before.

  Because Claire had never smiled for me before.

  And her eyes lit with her smile. Shined even brighter.

  “It’s going to be okay now,” she said.

  He couldn’t speak. Noah just nodded. Hell, yes, he’d make sure that everything was okay for Claire.

  She’d already suffered enough.

  ***

  Claire wasn’t embarrassed by the sight of the Hamlet Hotel. She’d stayed in far worse places in the course of her life.

  Even once, for five terrible months, in a place where her other roommates would scream for hours and hours.

  Claire shoved that memory into the back of her mind. All of the memories from Shady Pines deserved to stay back in the darkness.

  She rose from the car—Noah’s car, a sleek limo that had been waiting outside of York Towers. She cleared her throat and told him, “You know, this car really doesn’t seem to belong here.”

  Noah had exited a few moments before her. He glanced her way. “You don’t belong here. You should’ve come to me as soon as you arrived in New York.”

  That statement had her frowning. How did he know when she’d arrived in New York?

  He took her elbow. Claire stiffened. “You know I don’t—”

  “Like to be touched,” he finished grimly. “Yes, I know, but, Claire, you have to get used to me.” He nodded to his driver. Claire wondered if the hulking guy was also a body guard.

  She knew a few secrets about Noah’s past. Enough to tell her that the man hadn’t always worn fancy suits. He knew how to fight.

  How to kill.

  “We’re getting in and out as fast as we can.” He led her into the building. Growled when he found out that she was on the first floor. “Open access to anyone,” he snapped.

  The room had been cheap, so she’d taken it.

  They hurried past the desk clerk. Turned the corner and—

  Her door was ajar. Room one-oh-four. Claire stopped.

  Noah immediately stilled beside her. “What is it?”

  Claire shook her head, fighting the surge of fear she’d felt. If she wasn’t careful, Claire found that fear could creep up on her far too often. “I think the maid is in there.”

  He advanced. Claire tried to hurry with him, but Noah pushed her behind him.

  He entered the room first. His body tensed. “It’s not a damn maid.”

  She peered over his shoulder. Her clothes were tossed around the room. They’d been…slashed? Torn apart? “No,” Claire whispered. Dammit, those clothes were all she had! Fury had her shoving past Noah.

  He grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her stomach. “Don’t! The bastard could still be in here.” He pushed her back once more. Then he stalked forward. He yanked open the closet. Checked the bathroom.

  Claire stood in the doorway. The room was wrecked. The mirror was shattered. Chunks of glass littered the floor. The overturned mattress slumped against the small nightstand.

  My things…they’re all—

  Her gaze fell on the floor. On the picture frame that had been smashed. Claire rushed forward and grabbed it. Broken glass bit into her fingers.

  Her family stared back up at her. Her mom. Claire had her mom’s blonde hair. Her dad. Claire had his blue eyes. Her parents were both smiling. And Claire—Claire was standing next to her sister, Sara.

  Claire had been fifteen years old then.

  She’d been happy.

  “Claire!”

  Her head snapped up at Noah’s call. Her hold tightened on the frame.

  He stalked toward her. “You were supposed to stay in the hall.”

  She shook her head. “He’s not here anymore.”

  “Dammit, you’re bleeding.”

  “It’s just a cut.” Her voice sounded so hollow. “Nothing to-to worry about.”

  “Christ, Claire, there’s plenty to worry about. Some asshole broke into your room. Destroyed your things. And now you’re hurt.”

  A small wound, nothing more. She’d suffered plenty worse. But he took the frame from her and led her into the matchbox-sized bathroom. He put her hand under the rush of water in the sink. “Here,” Noah said, “let’s push up your sleeves…”

  Because she was still so shocked by the savagery in her room, it took Claire a moment too long to react to his words.

  He pushed up her sleeves.

  Claire glanced down. Saw the white scars on each wrist. “No!” She jerked away from him but Claire knew it was too late. He’d seen those marks. “I’m fine.” Her voice was stronger now. She whirled to face Noah. “I’m fine.”

  His gaze held hers.

  “I need the frame. The picture.” Her voice was softer now. “Nothing else matters.” It couldn’t matter. It was all gone.

  She brushed past him.

  “What in the hell happened here?” At that bellow, Claire looked toward the doorway. The Hamlet’s Hotel manager—a man with thinning hair and small, dark eyes—glared at her. “Did you have a party? We don’t allow—”

  Noah was across that room in an instant. He grabbed the manager and shoved him up against the thin wall of the room. “Does it look like a damn party?”

  The manager’s small eyes got very big.

  “Someone broke into her room because the security at your hotel is shit.” Noah’s voice vibrated with fury. “He got in here, and he wrecked Ms. Kramer’s things. If she’d been here, he could have hurt her.”

  “I-I know you,” the manager gasped out as his eyes widened with recognition. “You’re Noah York!”

  In this town, most people knew him. Or, knew of Noah.

  “Call the police,” Noah snarled at him. “Call them now. I’m sure they have this place’s address memorized.” He let the guy go. The man stumbled away.

  Noah focused on Claire once more. She held the frame in her hands. He rolled back his shoulders and demanded, “Has this ever happened to you before?”

  Having her place trashed? Unfortunately, it had. Claire nodded.

  His jaw hardened. “How many times?”

  “It hasn’t happened since I lived at home, back in Alabama.” She never let -->