Page 45 of Two of a Kind
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Outwardly, Spencerlooked just as calm, just as collected as he always did. His pace was easy as he strolled along the corridor to his father’s office, as if he was stopping in to ask about tee times or the upcoming charity gala.
Inside, his heart was pounding and adrenaline coursed through his veins. He felt more alive than he had in years, tingling with the thrill of uncertainty that came only from a high-risk venture.
It had been almost a week since he had watched Kayla get out of his car and walk away, feeling that odd twinge deep in his chest as she did so. It had been a week of introspection. While he had never particularly cared what anyone thought, he cared whatshethought.
And wasn’tthatunexpected.
The cynical part of him had had a lot to say on the subject.You’re confusing your heart with your dick. She’s just using you,it said,trying to see how much she can get. She senses she’s more to you than just a quick fuck, and she’s going to use that to her advantage. You’re walking a thin, dangerous line.
Yet, here he was, ready to step off the edge.
“Spencer, come in.”
Spencer entered, taking in the dark paneling, expensive furnishings, and thick carpeting as if seeing them with new eyes. Nothing much had changed since his grandfather had sat in the same office, behind the same desk.
The company itself had grown considerably since then, but at a steady, slow pace. While his grandfather and great-grandfather had been men willing to take the big risks to get the big payouts, his father preferred a sure thing and hedged his bets whenever possible.
It was much harder to relinquish the silver spoon you were born with than to craft one of your own.
Spencer had had the same silver spoon that his father had, but apparently, Spencer took after his grandfather more than his father, and in more ways than one. Sure, things were good for business, no doubt about it, but where was the challenge? Where was the sense of accomplishment and victory when you knew you had already won?
Marrying Chelsea would be exactly like that, he had realized. A sure thing. No challenge, no effort required. They barely knew each other, yet she was willing to sign a few papers, take a few photos, andboom, it was done.
Nothing much would change. They would put on a good show for the public, but that was all it would be—a show. Away from prying eyes, they would each continue to lead their own lives, except for the unspoken requirement that they produce an heir. Life and business would go on as usual. Predictable. Boring. Not good enough.Unacceptable.
If and when he decided to take that step into legally binding himself to another, he wanted it to mean something more than an increase of assets. He wanted toearnthe privilege of putting a ring on a woman’s finger. More importantly, he wanted to actuallyfeelsomething for the woman herself.
A few hours in Chelsea’s presence and there had been no spark beyond mild interest. Even her perfectly sculpted, pampered body—no doubt the best money could buy—had failed to stir his desire enough to warrant a test drive.
Of course, his reluctance to grab Chelsea’s low hanging fruit might have been at least partially due to the fact that Kayla had wrung every last drop from him only hours earlier. In an attempt to disprove that theory, he had closed his eyes and pictured Chelsea in her naked glory several times since, and ... nothing. Nada. Then he tried again, picturing Kayla brandishing that spoon at him, looking adorable and sexy in her PJs, flashing those eyes, andbam!instant wood.
What did that mean? Well, he hadn’t quite figured that out yet, but he did believe his recent obsession with Kayla O’Connell was about more than just sex, though that had, admittedly, been fantastic. While he did fantasize quite often about her, he also found himself wondering where she was, what she was doing. Wondering if she was thinking of him the way he was thinking of her.
Regardless, it all boiled down to one thing: he wasn’t going to marry Chelsea.
It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
That was why he was here. To answer his father’s ultimatum with a great bighell noand provide a counteroffer. He was taking a gamble, sure, but he wasn’t totally without a safety net. He had made some discreet calls and had relocated some assets, just in case negotiations failed.
Even more exciting, and riskier, than calling his father’s possible bluff was what he was planning to do afterward. For that, he would be walking the wire with nothing below to catch him. He didn’t know how that part was going to play out, hence therisk. What he did know was that his life was not going in a direction he was happy with, and the only bright spots in the last couple years had been Sate ... and Kayla O’Connell.
Spencer accepted the drink his father offered. He could tell by the triumphant look in the old man’s eyes that he believed Spencer had come to his senses. In truth, he had, just not the way his father thought.
