Read Online The Player's Club: Finn by Cathy Yardley - Free Book Online

bet we’d probably have an unimaginable night…maybe even a few weeks.”
    Finn’s body started to react, but he squelched the desire, even though his cock already ached.
    The smile on her face was quickly replaced with a look of…not exactly remorse. More like painful realism. The most painful realism he’d ever seen.
    “But then, we’d be stuck with the fact that all we had was a few weeks’ worth of sex. You’d continue butting heads with your father, and I’d be out of a job.”
    “My father wouldn’t fire you for sleeping with me!” Finn said, then immediately realized—he’d probably fired lawyers for far less.
    “Maybe not. But he’d fire me for not doing my job, no matter how unfair or criminal or wrong it seems.”
    Finn nodded, slowly. “Maybe…”
    “Are you in love with me?”
    Caught off guard by her question, he smiled sardonically. “I don’t really know you that well.”
    “I don’t know if I can love anyone,” she said, cutting across his joking reply. “But I’ll say this—I’ve always been able to count on the job. Until somebody comes along that seems more important, important enough for me to risk everything that makes me safe.”
    Dismissing him, she walked past him and opened the door.
    “I’m doing my damned job.”

6
    DIANA WAS SANDY EYED and irritable. She’d spent the morning staring at the same accounting spreadsheet and gotten absolutely nowhere with it.
    Finn, get out of my head!
    She’d won; she had the leverage she needed to get Finn to quit the Club. She’d done the job. Goody for her, but working here, for Thorn Macalister, you didn’t get the morning off for doing your job. You got more work.
    Right now, that work was checking out why numbers in the general ledger were coming up screwy. She’d already flagged the comptroller to track a bunch of mystery codes, meanwhile some accountant or other was supposed to be looking at it—she had his name on her desk, Victor something. She started sifting through notes, then gave up after five fruitless minutes of searching. Her normally pristine desktop had been ravaged by a paper tornado.
    It only went to show how crazy she was, if she’d let things get this disorganized.
    Instinctively, she struggled to tidy, acknowledging the headache that was brewing. The three ibuprofen she’d taken with breakfast had done nothing, probably thanks to the pot-of-coffee chaser she’d downed in an attempt to make herself more alert.
    Finn probably talked to his father this morning.
    “Not now,” she said aloud, stacking papers into neat piles.
    He probably told him he’s giving up everything. Probably going to let the private investigators shadow him. Might even give up his passport.
    “What Finn Macalister does is none of my business.” She put away the folders in her file drawer with a sharp slam.
    He probably hates you.
    Just for a second, she rested her face in her hands. It shouldn’t bother her. She didn’t even know him.
    It shouldn’t tear her up like this.
    “Diana? You okay?”
    She quickly looked up, seeing her assistant, Penny, standing in her doorway, staring at her with concern. “Headache,” Diana replied. “Too many numbers.”
    Penny smiled sympathetically. “Well, you’ll get a break now. Big boss wants to see you, in the main conference room.”
    “Thorn wants me?” Diana asked. “Why? I emailed my report to him this morning.” The Finn Report, she thought, stifling a sigh.
    “Maybe he wants to congratulate you on a job well done?”
    “Yeah. Maybe.” Diana stood up, straightening her suit. She wasn’t convinced, though. It wasn’t Thorn’s style. Curious, she left her office.
    The main conference room, next to the executive office that Thorn used, was called the marble room. An immense marble-topped table dominated the room. Imported from Italy, the conference table was like a sepulchre, huge and stately and vaguely creepy. The room was the ultimate home turf for Thorn—the place