Page 33 of The Temptation (Executive Suite Secrets #4)

SIMON MILLER

Nothing was going how I had planned it to go.

After leaving Rome’s penthouse, I’d returned home to make a plan of how I would lure Pierce into an evening of dinner and drinks under the notion of us moving into being friends and closing the chapter on our silly fake dating scheme.

At the end of the night, I’d take him home, where he felt safe and comfortable, and there I would corner the bastard into coughing up the truth about what had happened between him and my brother.

I might have even considered an option that included handcuffs.

In the worst-case scenario, I’d been prepared to back off and keep up the facade of just wanting friendship with him.

However, I’d planned to slowly wear him down over a period of months until he caved and admitted he had feelings for me.

I didn’t like playing the long game, but for Pierce, I would scratch together every scrap of patience I possessed and do it.

However, before I could put my plan into motion, I’d heard from the director of the symphony.

I was supposed to have turned in an initial draft of the concerto I was writing specifically to be played by the CSO.

It was how I’d weaseled my way into the orchestra in the first place.

It wasn’t enough that they got the privilege of having me play for them, but they also wanted the honor of playing my first ever composed piece.

But I had nothing to give them.

There were scraps. Sections I’d written and immediately tossed aside.

The writer’s block was intense. I couldn’t concentrate.

My insecurities were eating me alive. Not to mention, I was allowing myself to be distracted by Pierce.

I was so fucking close to finally winning him. Letting up now would be disastrous.

Yet I’d had to put my pursuit on hold so I could come up with something to give them. Of course, the harder I’d worked, the more my brain refused to cooperate. I’d locked myself up in the house and refused to come out, refused to even look at my phone until I got something on paper.

It was just my luck that it had been Pierce who’d found me in such a state.

Who would want someone who was such a mess?

Pierce was the epitome of careful control and composure.

He was always perfect. Every time he opened his mouth, the right thing came out.

He wasn’t embarrassing or ridiculous. I could do that too. I could be a perfect match for him.

There was this other side to me, though, that wasn’t perfect.

The side that never knew what to say. The side that eventually fell apart under all the pressure.

I’d thought I could keep that hidden from him.

At least until he was so deeply in love with me that he could deal with the fact that I sometimes crumbled into useless shit.

He wasn’t supposed to see this side of me now.

The entire ride to his house was silent.

I curled up in the front seat, my head resting on the cold window.

The world became a blur as we rushed along the highway.

Part of me wanted to scream and cry against his gentleness and understanding.

Why did he have to be so wonderful? I couldn’t remember the last time someone had seen me in such a state.

But he didn’t flinch away or try to escape. He just held me tighter.

Pierce broke the silence in the most unexpected way as we pulled down the long driveway to his home. “I was going to put you in my bedroom, but if you would prefer your own room…”

I blinked, my brain struggling to register the words he was saying. His room? He knew where I stood on things, what I wanted from him, and he wasn’t trying to keep me at arm’s length.

“No, I want to stay with you.”

And it wasn’t because I was trying to win his heart. Right now, the entire world grated on my brain. It was all too much. But when I was with Pierce, it was like I could function a little more. I could tolerate the world a smidge better.

“Okay. Not a problem.”

Pierce ushered me inside and up the winding stairs to his enormous bedroom.

He must have texted his staff ahead of leaving my place, because the room was already dimly lit, with a fire flickering in the grate and the rain music playing in the background.

A set of soft pajamas sat folded at the end of the bed.

“Would you like to take a shower? Afterward, you can eat or maybe take a nap.”

A shower did sound heavenly. “I need to get to work,” I mumbled. My arms shifted around my chest, and the papers I was holding crinkled, demanding that I write something worthy of the reputation I’d cultivated for so many years.

“Your brain doesn’t operate without proper food and sleep. After you’ve done both, I’ll let you have your violin back.”

I glared at him over my shoulder, but deep down, I knew he was right. There was no fight left in me. I opened the coat and handed him the sheet music I’d brought.

“You want to join me?” I asked, though I knew that there was nothing enticing about me at that moment.

A tiny smirk lifted one corner of his mouth, and I swore I could see a hint of relief in his eyes. “Maybe next time. Go shower.”

The shower was as divine as I knew it would be.

The hot water chased away all manner of aches and pains.

I might have also spent extra time sniffing all the bottles of soap, shampoo, and conditioner Pierce used.

It was a bonus. Pierce had grabbed none of my toiletries, so I got to use his.

I smelled like him, even though the scent rising off his warm skin was so much better than when it was on me.

After the shower, I pulled on the pajamas and simply collapsed in his bed. Food would have been nice, but my eyes burned and my body couldn’t take another second of being upright and conscious.

Upon waking, I found Pierce seated on the sofa in the corner of the bedroom.

He’d tossed his suit jacket and tie onto the back of a chair.

His sleeves were rolled up above his elbows, and he had a stack of documents in front of him that he was reading through.

Strands of hair hung over his forehead as though he’d been running his fingers through it, and I couldn’t remember a time when he’d looked more handsome to me.

“What time is it? How long have I been out?”

Pierce’s head popped up, and he smiled. “It’s after eight. You slept for about five hours.”

“Fuck,” I moaned, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my palm. “Sorry.”

“Would you like something to eat?”

Before I could even answer, my stomach let out a god-awful growl that filled the room. “So, apparently yes,” I said, not even trying to play it off.

Pierce let out a chuckle and rose. “Come on. I’m still breaking in a new cook, and she’s a bit of an overachiever. You’re my first real guest, and I think she’s looking to show off.”

“Really?” I tossed the blankets aside and climbed out of bed. I hesitated a moment, wondering if I should find my own clothes prior to wandering around Pierce’s house in his pajamas. How many staff members did he even have? Did he want them seeing me in his clothes?

Pierce walked to my side and held out a pair of socks.

“Yeah, she’s sweet and very talented. She’s been part of my staff for about a month now.

When she found out I had a guest who hadn’t been feeling well recently, she began working on dishes that will replenish your immune system and boost your energy.

” Pierce lowered his voice and leaned in to add, “She’s a stickler for vegetables. I’ve never eaten so many in my life.”

I let out a cautious laugh as I stared at him. Was he actually being playful with me? Fuck, I must have scared the shit out of him if he was being this nice.

After I put the thick white socks on my cold feet, I followed him to a cozy breakfast nook with a round table.

As soon as we sat down, his housekeeper brought out bowls of steaming, rich-smelling soup.

I’d never been a big fan of soup, but the aroma was so tantalizing.

It was even better that the soup was accompanied by fresh, crusty bread that tasted as if a French boulangerie had just delivered it.

I moaned softly as I dug into the food. “Your chef is French, isn’t she? Tell me she’s French. No one cooks like the French.”

Pierce chuckled. “No, she’s not French, but she did study at Cordon Bleu, and French cuisine is her specialty. She also makes fantastic Italian and Spanish dishes. Since she started working for me, she’s turned me into a fan of fish.”

A little snort escaped me between mouthfuls. “Good luck getting rid of me now. I will hide in your house and sneak out for meals.” I didn’t think I’d ever be a big fan of fish, but if the rest of her cooking was like this soup, I’d never want to leave.

“You’ll be pleased to know she also has your same appreciation for cheese.”

I nodded. Yep, I needed to meet this woman. Make friends with her. It wasn’t bad enough before that I’d had to win over Pierce because I was hopelessly in love with him, but now I had to lock him down so I had access to his cook. I was very, very screwed.

“How many people do you have working for you here?”

“Four, but I bring on a fifth during the summer months.” I looked up at him, my brow wrinkled. “Hilda is my housekeeper, Edward is my driver, Mrs. Cantrip is my chef, and Albert is the gardener. During the spring, he hires some part-time help to keep up with the trimming and mowing.”

“Not a bad gig for him. A bitch to keep up with things during the summer, but at least it slows in the winter.”

“Actually, he keeps quite busy in the winter. I have a large glass greenhouse where I grow some vegetables and hothouse flowers.”

“Wait…do you garden, or do you have someone do it for you?”