Her phone rang and she picked it up absentmindedly, half expecting it to be one of her fathers or Lila.
“Hello.”
“Hello, lovely Laken. How are you?” The slimy voice drove every bit of arousal out of her body as her anger surged.
“Why are you calling me, Ricky? What do you want?”
“Why, I don’t want anything but to listen to your lovely voice. Did you enjoy the flowers I sent? I know they’re your favorite.”
So he did know something about her. Unfortunately, he didn’t know enough to stay well away.
“You sent me those flowers?” She should have known. He’d been calling her for weeks now, beginning on that awful day when Lila had nearly been shot. “What the fuck do you want, Ricky? And don’t bother feeding me any bullshit.”
Her ex-boyfriend dropped the fake charm. “I want you back, Laken. I was wrong to let you go.”
“Let me go?” she yelled. “You cheated on me then you lied to your father to make it look like I was bullying your blonde bit on the side. Not only did I get fired, but you made it so no one else would ever want to hire me. You lied, cheated and stole from me, and now you have the gall to tell me that you made a mistake!”
“I was led astray,” he whined. What the hell had she ever seen in him? “I made a mistake, can’t you forgive and forget? Come back, Laken. I promise to treat you like the princess you are. Don’t tell me you don’t miss New York. Father has even promised you a bigger office and more money.”
“Let me get this straight. Your father has finally realized that your only talent is finding something to stick your dick into, is that right? He discovered that I’m the one with the talent and not you. That’s all I really mean to you and your father. Cash in your back pockets from my designs.”
“That’s not true. I miss you, lovely Laken.”
“Well, I don’t miss you. I’m much happier where I am. Now do the right thing for once in your life and leave me alone.”
“There is no way you can be happy in that small, hick town. Come on, darling, I know you must feel the need to punish me, but there is no need to punish yourself by staying there. Come home.”
“I am home. Fuck off.”
She slammed the phone down, shaking with anger. How dare he try to play around with her life! She meant nothing to Ricky, probably never had. She had just been a way for him to gain his father’s attention. She’d thought their relationship was something she wanted after the intensity of what she had shared with Duncan. She had thought that having someone who made no demands on her, who let her do as she pleased, was what she needed.
Unfortunately, she chose an asshole who fucked anything that moved. What a naïve fool she had been. Grabbing up the flowers, she went to stuff them in the trash. Except…they were so beautiful and it wasn’t their fault that a cheating, lying bastard had bought them.
So instead of throwing them away, she searched out a vase and placed them on the table. Arranging them, she stood back and took a deep breath. What a morning—first Duncan storming in and making demands, then Ricky trying to charm her back to New York.
Truthfully, she didn’t miss the city that much. She thought she would, but she was enjoying being close to her family and Lila, and even if Duncan was driving her insane, it was better than listening to Ricky’s snobby, whiny voice go on and on about himself.
Sitting at her table, she grabbed a pen and paper and threw herself into her work.
***
Laken placed her pencil down then stood and stretched. She glanced over at the clock. Eleven-thirty. She’d been working non-stop for the last two hours.
A knock sounded on her door, drawing her attention. She frowned. When the hell had her apartment become Grand Central Station? Storming over, she pulled the door open with a snarl.
“What the hell do you…” her voice trailed off as she saw Saxon standing there. As usual he was beautifully dressed in a dark-green shirt that matched his eyes and neatly-pressed slacks. She couldn’t help but compare him to Duncan. They were both attractive men, but where Saxon was suave and sleek, Duncan was rough and sturdy. Duncan favored jeans and t-shirts. She’d bet Saxon didn’t even own a t-shirt.
“Saxon, sorry, I didn’t expect to see you.”
His eyebrows rose. “Who were you expecting? And do you need me to have a word with them?”
She shook her head and he narrowed his gaze at her. Laken wondered how a woman could be expected to keep anything secret from this man. He would accept nothing less than everything—complete and utter submission.
“Is someone bothering you, Laken?” he drawled, his voice smooth as Scotch.
“Ah, no,” she said. Then realizing that he was still standing on her doorstep, she took a step back, inviting him in.
“You wouldn’t be lying to me now would you, sweetheart?” he asked calmly as he stared around her apartment.