Systematic Seduction (6 page)

Chapter
Seven

Oliver
popped into her office Friday just before noon, and asked if she wanted to have
lunch outside the building and then take the rest of the afternoon off. Blair
nearly laughed out loud as she remembered what Marisol had joked about Monday
morning. “That sounds wonderful.”

They
ate at the same deli around the corner where they went out for their sandwiches
nearly every day. It was crowded and noisy, but Blair didn’t mind. She loved
being seen outside the office with Oliver, and she didn’t even mind people
giving them curious looks. Briefly, she wondered how many other women he’d had
lunch with here over the years, but then she pushed those thoughts away. It
didn’t matter. She was here with him now, and she was going to enjoy herself.

After
they ate, they walked back to her apartment to retrieve her script. She told
Oliver she hoped some of the cast would sign it. Once she had it, they walked
into the center of town where vendors had booths set up, and Oliver stopped to
admire a necklace made with real rubies and topaz.

He
held it up to her. “This would look perfect with your coloring.”

She
agreed. It was stunning, and Blair asked the woman behind the booth where she’d
found the gems because she had quite a large collection of jewelry that was
real.

“I
brought a lot of them with me when I moved underground, but some of them I paid
to have brought here. Do you know a company called Carlyle Imports?”

Blair
grinned at Oliver. “Yeah, I do.”

The
woman frowned slightly, then her eyes widened as she recognized Oliver. “Oh.
I’ve seen your picture online. Addison Carlyle is one of those Weathermen, and
so are you.”

Oliver
extended his hand. “Oliver Fairchild. Nice to meet you.”

The
woman blushed like crazy as she chatted away with Oliver like she’d known him
forever. To his credit, Blair didn’t see him do or say anything she could
interpret as flirting, but the encounter did remind her she was out with one of
the most sought after men in the entire country. Was she truly ready for this? She’d
spent years avoiding all men, and now in the past week she and Oliver had
somehow become an item.

He
insisted on buying her the necklace, and Blair wasn’t sure whether that was
because the woman had talked his ear off, laughing at everything he said and
touching his arm every few seconds, or because he had seen how much Blair truly
loved the piece. It was ridiculously expensive, and she imagined that was
because this woman had paid Addison Carlyle a hefty price for finding all those
gems.

Blair
thanked Oliver graciously, but as soon as they were out of earshot, she asked
him why he had bought the necklace.

He
frowned. “Because you liked it.”

“Not
because she was flirting with you?”

Oliver
laughed. “No, that’s not the reason.” He cupped her face and kissed her, tongue
and all, right there in the middle of the walkway, with all those booths and
people on both sides. When he released her mouth she didn’t dare glance around,
but swore she could feel hundreds of eyes watching them.

He
leaned close, and his breath was warm and sweet on her face. “Now you listen to
me, Blair Adams. I like you. A
lot
.
And I like spending my money on people I like. So you might as well get used to
this. Got it?”

“Got
it. Thank you. The necklace really is stunning.”

“I
only wish she had matching earrings. I like things in sets.”

Of course you do.
“Engineers are like that.”

“Yes,
we are.” He stroked her face gently, sending a shiver down her spine. “Except
about our women. We only need one. The
right
one.”

Blair’s
pulse raced. Was she the right one for Oliver? She wanted to ask, but the words
would not come out. They locked gazes for a few more seconds, and then he
smiled and they continued walking.

They
arrived at the theater early, but Oliver said he didn’t mind because that would
give them a chance to go backstage before the play started. She’d never simply
waltzed in and gone backstage as if she had a right to do so, and she stood
there with her mouth open as Oliver chatted with everyone like they were old
friends.

A
few of the cast members were already there, as well as the director, and a
bubbly couple who had funded most of the production. They all recognized Oliver
from his presence online, and when he presented the script for them to sign,
they were amazed by it and asked all kinds of questions about where it had been
and how he’d acquired it.

Blair
stood silent, watching this exchange, marveling at the ease with which this man
engaged strangers in lively conversation. If it hadn’t been for the story he’d
told her about huddling inside that dark, empty building, with no food or
water, waiting for flood waters to recede, she’d have been tempted to assume
everything in his life had come easily and he’d never had a day’s worry.

It
also made her realize that while he may never have gone through what she had
experienced, he had still overcome extreme adversity and come out the other
side to lead a fulfilling, productive life. That meant she could do the same.
And it meant he had a right to know what was in her past she’d worked hard to keep
secret.

How
could she make love to this man without first telling him everything? It
wouldn’t be fair. She’d talk to him after the play, when she was fairly certain
they’d end up back at his apartment. She had to tell him, because the thought
now of not making love to him wasn’t something she cared to entertain, even for
a brief moment. He’d captivated her—all of her—and she had to have him.

****

Oliver
beamed as he handed Blair the script. All but a few of the cast members who had
not yet arrived had signed it, as had the director and the couple who had
funded this production. He and Blair had seats in the front row, and because
the media was covering this play, they’d had their picture taken twice already.

“Thank
you,” she said, her voice a bit hesitant. “I don’t know what to say.”

He
leaned close. “Just say you’re happy. That’s all I care about.”

“I
am happy. I’m overwhelmed, but happy.” She took a deep breath. He felt it
rather than saw or heard it, and a sliver of fear ran down his spine. Had he
blown it already? But how? “I need to tell you a few things later.”

His
heart stopped. “Like what?”

She
shook her head. “Not here. Not now. After the play.”

Well, all right. That’ll make me
enjoy it better
.
He chided himself for thinking like that. Whatever it was, it probably had
nothing to do with the way he’d treated her this week. Maybe she was finally
going to open up about her panic attacks? It wasn’t like him to be so
self-centered. He really had it bad for this woman, and it was making him
paranoid.

He
gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Then we’ll talk later. Whatever it is, if I can
help, all you have to do is ask.” The grateful look she shot him put his mind
at ease. He was right. This wasn’t about
them
.

The
play was incredible. Oliver was very impressed with the acting, and thought the
concept clever and poignant. He kept sneaking glances at Blair to find her
captivated. Doubt tried to creep in as he imagined what she needed to tell him
later, and he tried to keep it at bay. Intellectually, he knew this wasn’t
about him. They’d only spent a week together. It had to be about her past.

Once
more, he realized he was already smitten. He had to have this girl. No matter
what she told him, he would find a way to make this work because he’d never met
anyone like her. Now that he’d spent time with her outside of work on actual
dates, and kissed her, there was no going back. He
would
have her, no matter what. She was his, and that was that.

The
cast took five curtain calls, and Oliver’s hands hurt from clapping by the time
they were finally done. The media were still snapping pictures when Blair
smiled up at him, her face filled with joy, and then hugged him tightly.

His
damn dick sprang to attention, and he hoped like hell they made it outside
without anyone catching a photo of the bulge in his crotch. That would make a
great online picture. He could see the headline now—
Billionaire shows his obvious appreciation for latest girlfriend and
the play!

Once
they were outdoors, he took Blair’s hand and led her down back streets and
alleys until he was certain no one had followed them. He wanted to grab a quick
dinner and some privacy.

They
passed a pizza place, and she suggested they take one back to his apartment.
Oliver had been wondering how he was going to ask her to come to his place
without sounding insensitive to the fact she’d said she wanted to talk to him,
so he was grateful she’d made the suggestion.

They
ordered pizza and garlic bread, then chatted about the play while they waited
for it. Once it was ready, they took it back to his apartment, and he was
certain no one had followed them.

She
whistled softly as he gave her a quick tour of his place. “Oliver, this is
incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Thank
you.”

“You
could fit half my building in here.”

“It’s
a lot of space, but I wanted something that made me feel as if I was in a
house, not simply a box inside a high rise.”

“You
don’t have to justify it to me. I’d look for the same thing if I could afford
it.”

He
bit his tongue to stop himself from suggesting she could move in tonight if she
wanted.
Too much, too soon.

They
returned to the kitchen, and she sat next to him at the counter while they ate
their pizza and garlic bread. “Here we go again,” she said. “Only instead of
onions and peppers, this time it’ll be garlic and sausage.”

He
laughed. “At least we’re consistent.” Oliver was desperate to find out what she
wanted to tell him, but he didn’t want to spoil the mood.

As
if reading his mind, she drank the rest of her water and then cleared her throat.
“There are some things I need to tell you before we … well, before we do what I
assume we’re going to do later.”

“I
have no expectations about tonight.” It was right to say so, although he prayed
they would make love. He wanted her so badly, but what was most important was
her happiness, and that she felt safe with him.

“I
know you don’t, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me, but the truth
is that I do want to make love to you, Oliver. I can’t, though, without telling
you this first. I just hope you won’t change your mind once you hear it.”

Whoa.
What the hell had someone done to
her? “Blair, I’m here to listen, whatever it is. And I won’t change my mind
about you. Nothing could make me do that.”

The
look she gave him tore him apart. It was a combination of hope and uncertainty.
He took her hand, not surprised to find it cool. “Come on. Let’s go get
comfortable so we can talk.”

Cleaning
up the remnants of dinner could wait.

Chapter
Eight

Blair
was more afraid right now than she’d been at twelve, the first time one of her
mother’s boyfriends tried to crawl into bed with her. But this was Oliver, not
some drunk stranger her mother had brought home.

She’d
known this man for seven years, and she was here with him, in this ridiculously
lavish and expensive apartment. They’d eaten pizza, and now they sat side by
side on the sofa. The expression on his face showed interest. He really wanted
to hear this, even though he had no clue what it was. How could any woman not
fall head over heels in love a man this charming and patient?

“Okay.”
She shifted slightly so she was facing him, and then tucked her legs underneath
her body. “I guess starting at the beginning would be best.”

“Start
wherever you need to start.”

The
place was so quiet and comfortable. It felt homey, despite the lavish
furnishings and decor. That sensation had to be coming from Oliver. He
projected an aura of intelligence, peace, and security. Those last two were
desperately needed right now.

“I
don’t remember my father. My parents divorced when I was three, or so I was
told by my mother. She drank a lot, and then started taking pills, too. We
never really talked. She didn’t pay much attention to me other than to make
sure I went to school and ate something once in a while. I learned early on to
take care of myself.”

“That
explains why you’re so resourceful and can work without constant supervision.”

“I
suppose so.” She took a deep breath.
You
can do this.
“She had a lot of boyfriends. They came and went more often
than I bothered to keep track of, and for the most part they ignored me. I
always suspected my presence might have been the reason most of them didn’t
stick around, but I don’t have any proof of that.”

He
nodded, saying nothing.

“When
I was twelve, I was already developing. I mean I looked like a girl. You know.
I had boobs and curves.”

She
saw him swallow, and a look of sympathy crossed his face. She had to blink back
tears.

“That
was the first time one of her boyfriends tried to crawl into bed with me. I
screamed my head off, and she heard me. He was gone in less than five minutes
and she apologized over and over, promising me it would never happen again.”

Blair
was having trouble taking full breaths. Spots danced before her eyes, and she
struggled to hold the demons at bay.
Just
long enough to get this out. Please.

Oliver
moved closer and put a hand on her arm. That simple gesture calmed her
somewhat, and although she was amazed by that, she didn’t stop to analyze it.
Blair knew if she didn’t get all this out at once she never would.

“She
was usually quite drunk when she brought the men home, and she went out more
often the older I got. I wanted to put a lock on my bedroom door, but she was
paranoid about something happening to me and not being able to get inside.”

Oliver
made a soft noise of disgust, and she was grateful he didn’t state the obvious
stupidity of that reasoning.

“The
first time … the
only
time one of
them raped me was when I was fourteen.”

He
moved closer still and stroked her upper back.

“I
didn’t tell my mother. I don’t know why. I was afraid, and ashamed, and so
conflicted about her lifestyle I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to
turn for help. I thought if I told a teacher or any adult at school they’d take
me away from her, and then who would take care of her?”

Oliver
nodded again.

“I
mean, she had no one else. The men were a joke. None of them really cared about
her, as far as I could tell. She wouldn’t have been able to rely on any of them
for help.”

“You
were the caregiver.”

She
nodded, trying desperately now not to cry. The sensation of panic was gone,
replaced by overwhelming sadness that she hadn’t been able to help her mother
at all, in the end.

“I
went to my family doctor and lied, telling her I’d had sex with a boy at school
who was having sex with other girls, so I could get tested for STDs and get on
the pill.”

“Oh,
Blair…”

“I
know. Horrible, isn’t it? But it kept my mother from possibly being arrested,
and it kept me from being placed in foster care which, let’s face it, might
have been much worse.”

“I
understand. I really do.”

“I
also put a lock on the door. I didn’t care what she said. So it never happened
again because I stayed out of sight, and when one of them tried to get inside,
I screamed until she came and threw them out of the apartment.”

“I’m
so sorry.”

She
swallowed hard. “It worked for us. I mean, it was a horrible way to live, but
it served its purpose.”

“Did
you date at all? Did you have any sort of a normal relationship?”

“I
dated in high school, but I seemed to pick the losers. My shrinks have all told
me I chose them because that was all I knew. I don’t know if that’s true or
not. I only know they wanted nothing from me other than sex.”

“Did
you give in?”

She
had to avert her gaze for a second or two. When she looked at him again, she
still didn’t see disgust or anger in his beautiful eyes.

“Sometimes.
I thought if I’d found one that cared about me, things would change, but I was
always wrong. A few encouraged me to drink and tried to get me to take drugs
with them, but I had already seen what those habits had done to my mother. I
drank some beer a few times, but that was only to try to fit in. I’d feel like
shit the next day, of course.”

“When
did you start seeing a psychologist?”

“After
my mother died. I had graduated from high school six months earlier and was
still living at home and working at a fast food place. The revolving boyfriend
phase was winding down for her, but that was only because she was drunk or
high, or both most of the time and stopped going out as often. One day while I
was at work, she fell and hit her head. I found her dead when I got home.”

When
he put his arm around her, Blair couldn’t stop the tears this time. They slid
down her cheeks as she continued.

“I
couldn’t afford the apartment on my own, but it turned out I didn’t have to
worry about it. The storms had started, and I knew I had to leave. I found the
job advertising for customer service reps, and applied. I moved underground and
stayed in a shelter the first six months I worked for you, until I could afford
the apartment I have now.”

He
looked grief stricken. “I had no idea you were living in a shelter.”

“No
one did. I didn’t tell anyone. When I realized all your company actually did,
it sounded really cool, so I began taking classes. Earning my degree took so
long because of course I kept working. I haven’t really dated much since then,
other than Donny, but that’s because I’ve been so afraid. Not of sex, but of my
own demons inside. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.
Yes, it sure does.”

“I’ve
been afraid of being hurt again, or of making yet one more huge mistake. I’ve
gone through a lot of shrinks but no longer see one regularly. They all said
the same thing. I’m a victim, but I need to shed that image and visualize a new
persona for myself. Easier said than done.”

“I
agree.” Oliver pulled her close and wiped the last of her tears. “Blair, I know
how difficult that was to tell me. Thank you.”

“I
had to.”

“I
wish I could find the bastard who raped you. I’d kill him.”

She
looked into his eyes. “You don’t have to. He’s dead. He died of a drug overdose
less than a month after it happened.”

“Did
you tell her about the rape after he died?”

“No.
It would have devastated her to know she hadn’t been able to keep me safe after
all.”

“It’s
not right that a fourteen year old girl had to make such an adult decision.”

“I
know that now. At the time, I didn’t think about it in those terms. I’d always
taken care of her, and in my mind, that was simply part of what I’d always done
for her. I protected her.”

“She
should have been protecting you.”

“I
realize that now.”

“No
one ever has, have they? No one has protected you. No one has really cared for
you.”

She
had to blink back fresh tears. “No, I don’t suppose they have. Not even Donny
did. I thought he would, which is probably why I married him, but I was wrong.
Again.”

“And
the panic attacks are likely all that trying to resurface, Blair. Not that I’m
an expert or anything, but you’ve never really had a chance to deal with all
this.”

She
took several deep breaths. “I’m not having one now. I don’t even feel like I
might.”

“Is
that the first time you’ve been able to talk about this and not have one?”

“Yes.
I usually had them in a shrink’s office, or at least had the beginnings of one.
That’s when they’d each try to teach me visualization techniques, and the
internal monologue I use now.”

“Did
you feel like you’d have one when you first started telling me?”

“Yes,
but it went away without my having to do anything. That’s the first time that
happened.” Hope began to build. She desperately wanted to allow it to blossom.

“What’s
different this time?”

She
gazed into his beautiful eyes. “You are, Oliver. You’re what’s different.”

He
pulled her closer still, and she closed her eyes, relaxing against his warm,
hard body. She felt a sense of peace that was foreign, especially considering
all she’d just shared. She was also overwhelmed by his calm, protective
response. She’d pictured disgust and regret. Instead he’d merely listened and
held her. He hadn’t judged or reproached her for the way she’d handled things.
Such an experience was entirely new, and very refreshing.

She
wanted him. It might be the worst possible time, and she had no idea what any
of the psychologists would make of it, but the desire was real and it was
strong. He was the only man she’d ever gone out with who had seen the person
inside, not merely her outer shell or her body. And now he knew the worst of
her past, yet he was still here. What could be more normal than to give herself
entirely to this man?

Maybe
doing so would break the spell? Maybe she could begin to heal? And maybe, just
maybe, she’d finally found the one man on this planet who would protect her
and—dare she think it—love her?