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Chapter 4
Richard had just arrived at work and as it was close to midday, he decided to meet an old friend for a lunch date. He was sitting behind his desk in his comfortable massaging chair, his shiny black shoes pointing heavenward from on top of his desk, when the door opened and James walked in.
His cousin didn’t look happy. He never did but the expression on his face at the moment was so intense that Richard found himself telling Ivana that he would call her back.
James stared at him for a long while and Richard squirmed beneath the gaze. “Hey, I told you to get our grandmother to give this job to someone more capable—,” he began, removing his feet from the desk so that he could sit upright.
James shook his head and stared into Richard’s eyes as he said, “I’m not here to talk to you about your job. This is about Branna.”
“Branna?” Richard asked curiously, raising his eyebrows in obvious curiosity. “Why? Has she done something wrong?”
James shook his head and broke eye contact—for the first time since Richard remembered—with his cousin first.
“Branna isn’t who you think she is,” James told Richard, tugging at his tie as if he was suddenly too hot. “She’s after your money. She doesn’t love you.”
Richard blew out a breath and stared at his worked-up cousin in awe. Well, this was the first time that James had even bothered to talk to him about any of his girlfriends. Where had James been when he’d dated Karina, a model who’d only dated him because she wanted to be Mrs. Richard Bradford. Or Jacqueline, the actress who’d had that particular goal in mind. Now, when he had a friend in Branna, James wanted to be involved in his personal life. A thought flashed across Richard’s mind and his eyes narrowed in positive rage.
“Is this because she’s black?” he ground out, pushing himself upward in his seat although he didn’t fully get up.
James looked taken aback by that and then shook his head, dismissing that ridiculous idea. “Race has nothing to do with this, Richard! Branna wants to marry money and she’s only using you to get there.”
Richard pretended to think about that before he stood and said, “Sure. What you do with your personal life is no business of mine and vice-versa. I will say that you are mistaken in thinking that of Branna but again, this is my personal life so I’d appreciate it if it was kept that way.”
James’ jaw locked so harshly that Richard was afraid for a moment that it would break. His cousin was quite worked up for someone who was just a third-party in the situation. A thought occurred to Richard. Perhaps there was something with his cousin and Branna?
“Is there anything else that I should know about Branna?” he asked James carefully, staring into eyes that were very similar to his. Most Bradford’s had green or blue-green eyes. It was a family trait passed down through the generations.
James eyes never wavered from his as he said, “You are right. I’m sorry that I tried to advise you on something for once instead of seeing you screw it up and then go through hell getting out of it. I’ll be in my office. If you want to actually work, come see me.”
With that, James spun around and marched out of the office. Richard stared at his cousin’s retreating back and then the door in confusion, deciding then and there that he’d cancel his lunch date with Ivana. He had a much more interesting partner in mind.
Branna sipped her water and stared at Richard with a raised eyebrow as he smiled charmingly at her.
She ignored the smile and scooped some of the spaghetti pasta into her mouth and chewed. Richard had decided to take her on a lunch date—he was paying—and when she’d attempted to refuse, he’d told her that she’d regret it if she didn’t. Wanting to know the juicy news that he obviously did, as she believed it somehow concerned James, she’d agreed. Now as they sat across from each other in a nice Italian restaurant in Leicester Square, Branna had the strong urge to flick her meatball directly at Richard’s smiling face. He hadn’t told her anything! All he’d done was complemented her on everything from her hair to her shoes. She was completely use to his charm and it didn’t affect her one bit.
“You know, when the light hits your skin, it glows—,” he began again only to have Branna glare at him and say, “Would you tell me what you need to already? Jeez, do these lines really work on women?”
He chuckled and took a gulp of his water. “That’s why I like you Branna. You’re honest. Sadly, there are people who think otherwise.”
Branna immediately fixed all of her attention on him. “What do you mean?”
Richard took his time telling her and when he did, she was so upset that she was on the verge of snapping at anyone who came near to her.
“When we were in Hampstead, I remember you telling me that you’d explain to me why you didn’t know my cousin. Perhaps, you’d like to do so now?” Richard asked but Branna knew it was more so a statement than a question. He wanted to know if she was lying about knowing James.
Branna calmed herself enough to tell him the story about the car accident, her loss of memory, her inability to remember anything during the summer months after she returned from school and before she woke up from the coma. As she spoke, Richard nodded emphatically and she could see in his eyes that he believed her, and more so, felt sympathetic toward her situation.
“Have you told this to my cousin?” he asked softly, and he caught the flash of anger that entered Branna’s eyes as she replied.
“I told him about the accident but I did not go into detail. It doesn’t matter though. Your cousin is nothing to me and I dislike that he’s going around, defaming my character.”
“He’s just protecting the family name,” Richard told her placatingly, and secretly added to himself, and jealous because he thinks you’re with me.
Branna snickered. “Family name? By calling me a gold-digger? I’m not hungry anymore, Richard. Can you please take me back to work?”
“How was your lunch?” was the first thing that James asked her as she stepped into his office.
She tossed him a cold smile and replied sweetly, “Oh it was amazing. Richard and I always enjoy our time together.”
James leaned back in his office chair, surveying Branna from head to toe. She wore a smile but for all its genuine sweetness, she should have just walked in with a scowl that said, “Fuck you, you scumbag!” Her hair was pulled back from her face and she wore a white blouse and grey pants.
“Ah, you went to lunch with your boyfriend,” James rebutted easily, passing her an easy smile that never reached his eyes. “I take it you two had an interesting conversation? Perhaps about the fact that you’re only after money and you’re willing to sleep with anyone to get it?”
Branna drew in a deep breath at that one and the smile vanished from her face. James sat up slowly as she approached his desk and leaned down. She placed her palms on the flat surface and leaned her head close to his so that she could stare him straight in the eyes.
“What really bothers you, Mr. Hot-Shot Executive? That I’m with your cousin or that I don’t want you?” she taunted angrily, her eyes daring him, pushing him, challenging him.
James’ lips tightened visibly and his eyes grew darker. He leaned his face closer to hers, his eyes becoming a mirror of unreleased fury, “What bothers me is that Richard parades you around like a bloody saint when we both know that you’re nothing but a gold-digging, money-hungry slut.”
Branna saw the scene that happened next in slow motion. Her hand reached out and her palm connected soundly with his left cheek which turned an angry red. A part of her felt justified at seeing the stunned look that passed over his face but the other part cowered. He was up in the blink of an eye and then he was next to her, grabbing her shoulders harshly. She winced as his hands crushed her arms and pulled her closer to him. Still, she did not back down. Their eyes remained locked as he hissed angrily, “What, Branna? Can’t you handle the truth? Does it offend you to hear what you really are?”
“Let go of me, you big asshole! This is assault,” she told him fiercely, feeling angry tears welling up in her eyes and pushing them back.
His grip on her arms relaxed but his voice was still harsh when he said, “It wasn’t assault last night or the night before that, was it Branna? It wasn’t assault when your body eagerly took mine and I made you come over and over and over again.”
James’ hand moved down her arms and then one of his hands caressed her breast roughly. She jerked away from him but his other hand held her still. His eyes were cold as they pierced hers.
Branna felt his hand on her breast and fought against her natural reactions to this—this jerk! How could she like him? He was an asshole. A despicable, utter asshole who couldn’t see what was right in front of him if it bit him on the right ass-cheek.
She felt heat travel through her body and the pool at her center and closed her eyes tightly, willing her traitorous body to behave. James was ruthless. He unbuttoned her blouse as soon as her eyelashes fell against her soft skin and felt his cock come to attention as he surveyed her beautiful breasts contained by the black bra that she wore. His hands moved around her back and popped the clip. He pushed the bra upwards, not even bothering to remove it, as he played with her hardened nipples. Her eyes opened slowly to look at him, he saw the need pooled in her brown gaze, and then they shut again.
At that moment, he hated her. He hated her for being with his cousin yet obviously wanting him. He hated her for making him want to believe her despite knowing that she was nothing but a slut after money. James spun her around so that her back faced him and moved his hands around her body to the front of her pants. He easily unbuckled the belt and unzipped the pants, pushing it down so that it fell to her heeled feet. His free hand continued its caress on her breasts eliciting a suppressed groan from her lips. He released her breast to push the thong she wore down to her knees before he undid his pants and pushed his boxer briefs to down.
His hands immediately moved back to her breasts and he eased her over the table. His breath caressed the back of her neck and Branna moaned softly in her throat. With both hands caressing her breasts and his lips caressing the back of her neck, James aimed true and plunged deep.
Branna arched off of the table, biting down on her bottom lip to keep in the scream of utter bliss at being so thoroughly filled by his thick organ. She hated him. She hated him dammit! Instinct alone told her that was lie. If she hated him, she wouldn’t allow him to do this to her.
He held onto her as he rode her, licking her shoulder, her neck, her ears, and anything else that he could get his tongue on as he took her from behind. When Branna thought she couldn’t take it anymore, James pulled her up from the table, still buried deeply inside of her hot tunnel, and slowly moved one of his hands down her body.
“No,” she murmured in protest, knowing where his hand was going. He ignored her and leaned his head down to take her earlobe into his mouth.
His fingers found the slick button that he was searching for and he began to caress it. Light, retreating, butterfly touches that made her squirm and clench down on him as he lay buried inside of her body.
“Admit that you’re only after his money,” James hissed angrily into her ear. His finger flicked her clit and she groaned angrily. She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead, noticing that the Venetian blinds in his office were partially open. She thanked her lucky stars that they were on such a high floor and prayed that there was no one in another office, staring at what was going on in this one.
“Fuck you,” she hissed in embarrassed anger. James’ growled and began to move, pumping in and out of her sensitized body as his fingers played with her hidden treasure; his teeth grazed her ear and his other hand caressed her nipples.
“Fuck me? No love, I am going to fuck you,” James hissed against her ear pounding her furiously, each slap of his thighs against her ass tearing little squeaks and moans from her body until finally she fell apart under him, trembling down to her toes as her body slowly regained control. She felt him jerk within her and then she was flooded with warmth.
He collapsed onto her back, his starch shirt resting against hers, his breathing harsh.
When she’d regained her breathing and her common sense, Branna pushed at the table, hoping to throw him off her as she snarled, “Get off of me, Mr. Bradford!”
As soon as she said the words, he pulled out of her body and began fixing his clothing.
Branna didn’t turn to face him as she pulled her panties and pants back up and re-buckled her belt. She said nothing as she re-clasped the hook on her bra and buttoned her shirt.
When she’d run a hand over her shirt, hopefully removing any wrinkles, and had fixed her hair, she turned to face him.
He was prepared for her anger, he was prepared for her accusations but he wasn’t prepared for what she gave him.
Branna’s eyes were misty as she said, “There! You’ve proved it. You’ve proved that I’m nothing but a whore, haven’t you? Are you satisfied? That you fucked the whore in your office and she liked it. Look on the bright-side, you don’t have to worry about this gold-digging whore anymore. I’m handing in my resignation tomorrow.”
She walked regally past him, and he looked after her in confusion. Branna was at the door when she stopped and said softly in a voice that trembled quite badly, “I’m glad I don’t remember you. I don’t know if I can handle anymore disappointment.”
With that she walked out of his office, and out of his life.
James turned to look out his window and swore angrily, grabbing a hold of his forehead. What the hell had come over him? He’d never lost control like that before. Even if she’d angered him, and was only after his cousin’s money, she didn’t deserve what he’d just done to her. He’d taken her like she was a common prostitute, fully dressed and over his desk, no other intimacy except for caresses and the joining of their parts.
“Shit!” he hissed in frustration, covering his eyes with his hand. And what did she mean by that last statement. Even after he’d exposed her, and degraded her, she still held out that she didn’t remember him. What if it was true? What if she really didn’t remember him? He tossed that away. So what? She was dating his cousin and fucking him. That made her a whore.
Even though he justified his actions in his head, he couldn’t help feeling like a sack of garbage. Jesu, he thought absently moving away from the window and staring at the spot on the desk where he’d taken her, she had the ability to turn him into a disgusting kind of animal.
Branna walked into work the next morning with a neatly typed letter of resignation that would be effective in two weeks. She headed straight for James Bradford’s office and then remembering how he’d held her down and pleasured her across his desk, she switched route and instead settled for Richard’s office. She knocked on his door and knowing that he wasn’t in, strode up to the desk and deposited the letter on it. Satisfied that that had been done, she walked to the office that would soon be given to someone else when she returned to the United States. No amount of money or experience would make her stay and work for a guy who hated her when her traitorous body wanted him. It was embarrassing and her body and her mind couldn’t take it. She hadn’t been home for two minutes yesterday afternoon before she’d started popping pills for the pain. She’d curled up and had slept for a few hours and then she’d awoken and written her two-week notification.
She sat behind her desk and checked through her inbox. The usual documents were there. She flicked on the computer and waited for the screen to load. She was going to do her work and when the two weeks was up, she was leaving London and all of its painful memories behind.
Around eleven thirty in the morning, Richard burst into her office. There was no knocking, no preamble. The door just flung open and then shut and then he was standing before her desk, her resignation letter in his hand.
“What is this?” he asked angrily. Branna had never seen Richard angry but she couldn’t help but think that he looked similar to his older cousin. That similarity made her snap at him.
“What does it look like?” she retorted angrily, glaring up at him through angry eyes.
Richard tried another approach, seeing that anger was only going to breed anger in his friend.
“Branna, I don’t understand. Why are you resigning? Is it because of me? Have I done something—?”
Branna sighed and waved a hand dismissively. “Of course it’s not you, Richard. You make me want to stay.”
She offered him a small smile, a peace-offering.
Richard let out a deep breath and threw himself into the armchair facing her desk. “Then why? We’re paying you well, aren’t we? And I’m not a demanding boss—?” he paused and stared at her face earnestly.
“Is it because of James?” he asked quietly, and despite the softness of his voice, it sounded like a whip-crack on a silent night. Deciding that it wouldn’t be the best thing to involve Richard, Branna prepared to deny it only to see understanding dawn in Richard’s eyes at her hesitation.
“You confronted him, about what he told me? And he snapped at you, didn’t he?” Richard demanded, rising slowly to his feet. “What did he tell you? Did he call you names?”
Branna looked away at that question and Richard exploded, “He called you names?! That bloody arrogant son-of-a-bitch! You’re not going anywhere, Branna. I’m the boss here even if I don’t like it and I’m not going to let James come in here and make my employees uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s not that, Richard. I’m resigning, regardless,” she tried to tell him quickly.
Richard ignored that as he headed for the door. “You’re resigning because of James. I’m going to have a little talk with my cousin. No—you stay there!”
With that he was gone and Branna was torn between following him and staying away from James. In the end, staying away from James won out.
The look on his cousin’s face when he burst into James’ office told James everything that he needed to know. Branna had told Richard what had happened and his cousin was now out for blood. Preferably James’ blood.
The door slammed shut with an audible click and then Richard was glaring nastily down at him from in front of his desk.
“You sick bastard!” Richard spat angrily. “You will watch what you say and do to my employees! Branna is under my authority, not yours. You may be CEO but Grandmother put me in charge of this store and she’s my employee. If you have something to tell her, you bring it through me. If you so much as breathe near her again, I’ll seriously consider hurting you, cousin or not!”
With that Richard spun around, intent on removing himself from his cousin’s offensive presence but James wasn’t finished. He hadn’t started yet. He pushed himself out of his seat and said menacingly, “So like a good, obedient girlfriend she came running to you?”
Richard paused by the door and spun around, his eyes flashing fire. “What does that matter? The fact of the matter is if you don’t leave her be you’ll have to face me. I mean it, James.”
He spun again with the intention of going through the door when James hissed, “What story did she give you? Did she tell you that I forced her? That she protested through the entire thing? Because she didn’t. She wanted it as much as I did, probably even more. Wake up Richard. That girl has got you right where she wants—.”
