Chapter 32
Finally caught Ritchie alone. Heloise made her move, “Hey Mr. Ritchie, I’m Heloise Beaumont from New Horizons Corp.”
Ritchie pondered for a sec, his eyes a mystery to Heloise, then cracked a smile and shook her hand, “Ah, Ms. Beaumont, pleasure to meet you.”
“I didn’t wanna bug you when you were swamped, Mr. Ritchie. Since we’re both here today got a sec to chat?”
–
He glanced at the paperwork she was clutching this wasn’t a chance meeting, it was a setup.
But he didn’t call her out, just smiled, “Sorry Ms. Beaumont, New Horizons Corp isn’t on our radar, afraid you’re barking up the wrong tree today.”
Even with Salome’s intro, the Harrington Group’s project team was too high and mighty. Insiders wouldn’t dare speak up – Harrington Group had the clout, after all.
But the guy wasn’t even giving her a chance to wheel and deal, leaving Heloise scratching her head.
“New Horizons Corp has been skyrocketing these past years. Fresh blood’s taking over, and new collabs are all the rage. Why not peek at our proposal before you decide, Mr. Ritchie?”
Heloise’s pitch was tempting the biz world’s a playground for the young. But Ritchie was set in his ways, “Sorry, Ms. Beaumont.”
Heloise’s eyes flickered, catching a fleeting look of discomfort on his face, “Is there something you’re not spilling, Mr. Ritchie?”
His expression froze, and Heloise was nearly convinced, “Is this Mr. Harrington’s call?”
Who else but Benedict could sway Ritchie, an old–timer at Harrington Group and a contemporary of Benedict’s dad?
His silence was all the confirmation she needed.
Not wanting to put him on the spot, Heloise backed off, “Didn’t mean to trouble you, Ritchie.”
“Ms. Beaumont,” he called after her. He got her struggle, and she got his.
“Mr. Harrington probably wants you to hash it out with him personally.”
That sank Heloise’s heart, but she kept her poker face, “Thanks for the heads–up.”
Kyrell noticed her down in the dumps, “It didn’t go well?”
Understatement of the year. Heloise had just had a taste of defeat.
“Should I put in a word with my cousin?”
Heloise shook her head, “You’ve done plenty. Besides, if I can’t land this deal, I’m not fit to face Mr. Rockefeller.”
Not to mention, she was gunning for that deputy director spot.
But she had an inkling of what Benedict was after.
Heloise downed her fruit wine in one go.
Tonight’s wine packed a punch – weird, since it was just fruit wine, but she was feeling tipsy.
After Kyrell told his mom to cut back on the booze, he found Heloise propped on a couch, red–faced and looking plastered.
His heart softened, and he whispered, “Need a ride home?”
Heloise’s bleary eyes snapped open at his approach, instinctively on guard, but relaxed upon recognizing Kyrell.
Suddenly, a wave of heat hit her, her mind a blur.
She sensed something was off but couldn’t put her finger on it or get the words out.
Kyrell, seeing her a bit drunk, thought she was adorable as he helped her off the couch. Thankfully, a drunk Heloise was compliant, not thrashing or spouting nonsense.
“I’ll take her home.”
Salome trusted Kyrell, “Much obliged.”
Kyrell was escorting Heloise out when she suddenly slumped.
Quick on his feet, he caught her, but another set of arms was quicker, sweeping Heloise away!
Half–closed eyes, she mumbled through the haze, “Benedict… you jerk…”
Benedict’s face was stone–cold as he tightened his grip, and Heloise winced, whimpering in protest.
“Feisty, aren’t we?” Benedict pinched her cheek, unbothered.
14.49
Heloise dodged, burying her face in his chest instinctively.
Kyrell glimpsed something off as he suggested, “You must be busy, Mr. Harrington. Let me take Heloise.”
“I’m available,‘ Benedict said, scooping Heloise into the elevator.
Rand stopped Kyrell outside.
As the elevator doors slid shut, Heloise felt waves of heat, recognizing Benedict. She gasped for air, her voice a whisper only he could hear, “Put me down…”
Benedict leaned in, kissing her parted lips, glancing up nonchalantly at the closing doors–catching Kyrell’s fleeting look of shock and confusion.
In the dimly lit room, Heloise felt consumed by flames. She struggled up from the bed, weakened, and fell back, her head lolling on the pillow.
Her seaweed–like curls spread out, her starry blue mermaid dress swaying, making her look like a stranded mermaid.
Benedict stood at the bedside, yanking off his tie, leaning over her, hands bracing beside her, his lips seeking hers.
The cool wetness drew her in uncontrollably.
With fingernail marks deeply etched into the palms of her hands, she clawed back a shred of sanity, dodging her face to the side. But he was quick on the uptake, swooping in again to capture her lips.
He sucked and nibbled on her bottom lip, Heloise felt out of control.
She was burning up, so hot it felt like her soul was on the grill, aching for some water, craving a chill, yearning for… the touch of him.
Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine herself in such a wanton scene, scared and crying helpless tears.
“Get off me!” She snapped back to her senses, struggling to crawl out from under Benedict, clutching at the dress he had ripped open at her chest.
Panting, with her mouth agape, she pleaded in a whisper, “Take me… take me to the hospital.”
Benedict pulled her back effortlessly, pinning her down with ease, his voice lower than usual, huskier than it should be, “I’m here for you.”
“You’re evil!” Heloise aimed for a slap, but he caught her wrist and pinned it above her head.
He leaned in again, his voice emotionless, “Wanna hit me?”
“You drugged me!” It wasn’t a question, she was sure of it.
His face darkened at some point, “Why not suspect Kyrell? He’s the one who took you home.”
“He’s a gentleman,” replied Heloise firmly.
He grabbed her chin forcefully, making her look straight into his eyes, “What does that make me?”
Overwhelmed by the heat, Heloise lost all reason, crying while wriggling up against Benedict’s chest bared by the shirt she had torn open, shamelessly kissing and biting his pecs.
Benedict cupped her face, fierce as hell, “Heloise, I’m your man.”
