Chasing Temptation (2 page)

With his voice low and rough, he said, “You're not even tempted?”

She was tempted all right, but it had nothing to do with his business offer. “When it comes to Hart and Style I can use your words: never deterred.”

She crossed her legs at the knee, and for less than a split second his eyes followed the motion. So, there was a man beneath the horns. Interesting.
No
. She sucked in a breath.
Don't think about it.

But then his eyes traveled up her leg, to her breasts, and then her eyes. She now knew what a hot flash must feel like, because every inch of her body burned.

“I should let you know something,” he paused. “You intend to make this a fight, and I won't do any dirty business. It's not my way, but don't think because you are a woman I'm going to make it easy for you. You will sell me your store. Willingly, or because you have to sell to me. The choice is up to you.”

The certainty in his voice should have put the fear of God in her heart, but she'd learned long ago God was a woman with a horrible sense of humor.

“Then I should let you know something.” She pushed back her shoulders. “You better be ready.”

“You run a nice little shop, Ms. Kelley.”

She jolted. “How do you know my name?”

“I know everything about you.” He smiled another genuine smile, but this time it gave her a chill. “It's best to know your opponent. The next time I make you this offer it'll be for considerably less money, and barely enough to buy your way out of debt.” He flexed his hands. “Let me give you another piece of advice.”

“Aren't you generous?”

If she hadn't been sitting down, her knees would have given out. So, yes, that's the best Lynne could come up with.

“You should look me up. Craine, LLC. Google it or Search it.”

Lynne frowned. He would know the newest search engine. Would have made sure every time someone looked up his name a picture of horned demons popped up to scare anyone willing to say no to his offer.

“Why do you even want my store? It's in a little nobody town and will never earn anyone millions of dollars.”

“It could. This city has an untapped potential. I see this all the time. People are comfortable in doing okay. Getting by. I'm here to change that.”

“So you think you are God's gift to Valley City?”

“I know a potential profit when I see one.”

He had a point. Valley City was less than twenty miles from beachfront property. It's the reason she survived. And survival was why she narrowed her eyes.

“Let me see you out,” Lynne said.

When he stood, he buttoned his suit jacket. Businessman through and through. Lynne was in deep shit. She forced another smile to her lips and led him back out to the front of the store.

He stopped at the glass doors. The morning sun peeked over the building across the street. His shadow darkened the floor in front of him. Yes, Lynne’s feelings were ominous at the moment, so when he spoke she jolted again.

“You should also know I'll be opening a men's clothing store next door. It should be ready by next week. You're invited to the grand opening.”

Thankfully his back was turned when her mouth fell open as he exited. No, strutted away.

All in a day’s work. Scare the locals. Threaten business owners with offers penned in the blood of innocents.

Lynne was in very deep shit. She would have wallowed in it, but Jeremy came in just then. The man hadn’t met a novelty shirt he could walk away from. Today's saying: “Great Scott!”

She could relate, all right. Stepping into his space, the smell of Stetson cologne soothed her. She would have laid her head on his lean shoulder, but it was still spinning.

“Who is the suit?” He gestured his head at Nathan.

“The devil in Armani.” She sighed, the fight leaving her stance. “He's here to buy Hart and Style.”

Jeremy frowned. “But you just bought it. Isn't today like the official opening under new management?”

“Exactly, and if anyone could buy this place from me it would be him.”

He crossed his arms. “I could take him.”

Lynne tried to hold back her laugh. “You're what? Two hundred pounds soaking wet. 5'7”. You'd need months of steroids first. Sadly, I would take you up on the offer if it would help this situation. What I need is a strategy or a mob connection.”

“I’ve got an Uncle Joey.”

Lynne tore her gaze from Nathan’s retreating back, and concentrated on Jeremy’s face. The wide ridge of his nose flared whenever he smiled. His brown eyes always had a dreamy quality, and if she didn’t think of him as a brother, she would have taken their relationship to another level.

But he did feel like a brother, the family she’d never had being an only child, so she didn’t. Right now, however, she wanted to curl into his embrace. She needed to let him convince her everything would be all right. It wouldn’t fix the situation, but it would ease the knotting in her stomach.

Instead Lynne fell back on what she knew how to do best—tell the the unvarnished trust. “You're not even Italian.”

He grinned. “Okay, okay. I’ll call my cousins Roscoe and Pookie.”

He did have cousins with those nicknames, but they were accountants.

“Whatever.” The laugh loosened the tension in her shoulders. “We should start getting the store ready. I think I want to have a sale today.”

The smile faded. “You’re really worried about this guy?”

Nathan reminded Lynne of her father. If he wanted it, Preston wouldn't stop until he had her store. He was calculating and didn't care who he hurt. Emotional attachments didn't matter; business was business. Nathan was cut from the same cloth.

“Yes.”

Jeremy nodded and then grinned, putting on his best-friend face. Lynne sighed, filled with contentment. Okay, maybe things would work out.

“Since you're all gloom and doom this morning, I won’t tell you I met someone.”

Yes, everything would be fine. Lynne, said, “Okay, then don’t tell me.”

“This woman had the most beautiful eyes.”

Just fine.

Sylvia placed the large container of coffee in front of Nathan. Ebony strands were pulled back into a taut bun. Like him, she wore a business suit tailored to fit her body perfectly, but, unlike most of their meetings, she wasn’t wearing a business expression. Her stride lacked its usual purposeful rhythm. Her step had a spring to it.

A pep? Sylvia's walk had a...pep. Nate closed his mouth when his assistant of eight years smiled brightly at him.

“Morning,” she said in a sing-song tone.

She pulled out the wooden kitchen chair across from him, looking comfortable in his rental apartment as she glanced around. “I passed by some shops this morning. Saw some curtains that would work in here. These local shops are pretty amazing.”

Why was she talking about curtains? He cleared his throat
.
“I'm only going to be here a month at the most. Buyouts never take longer than that.”

Sylvia shrugged. Flexing a tighter grip on the cup, he ignored the nonchalant gesture.

“The current décor will do,” he continued.

She waved her hand at his comment. “I know you aren't the type to roll out the welcome mat. You make the deal and you go on to the next, but don't you think that even a month with more than passable decorations will lighten up your life?”

What had someone done to his right-hand woman? This woman had a full-wattage smile. He mentally pulled himself out of shock.

“We don't have time for enlightenment or curtains.” He sat straighter in the chair, hoping his stance would put her back on track. “I went by Hart and Style this morning.”

The declaration didn't dim the smile or make her eyes focus. He ignored the dreamy expression. She'd get into the game. Sylvia had been on vacation for the past weekend, which just meant he hadn't called her in to work for one reason or another.

“Sounds nice.”

He had to replay her response in his head to make sure he had heard her right. He had.

“The owner is pretty...” He paused, looking for the right word.

Suddenly, he was struck with the fact that Lynne was pretty. Underneath the hair gel and red streaks, her oval-shaped face had an angelic quality.
Angelic
. He snorted.

“What?” Sylvia asked.

“Um, the owner is pretty unstable when it comes to her business. She doesn't make decisions based on what's cost-effective, but on emotions.”

Sylvia sighed and finally the smile dimmed. “From what I hear, Hart and Style is one of the most successful businesses in Valley City. Women go there for special occasions. High school girls flock when it's time for prom. The previous owner handed over a solid business. Lynne can do very well for herself.”

“She can do better.”

“According to you, Bill Gates could have done better.”

He leaned back. They never argued. At least never about the actual buyout. She wanted him to ask pointless questions today of all days? But if it would get them back to the matter at hand, he would.

Nathan asked, “How was your vacation?”

The smile came back and along with it a whimsical quality to her eyes. This was not good.

“I met someone.”

He put the hot coffee to his lips, trying to come up with something appropriate. Another moment passed. Sylvia waited with her arms crossed. He had nothing.

“Ms. Kelley only purchases local retail.”

She rolled her eyes. “What else is she doing that is slowly draining her store of profits?”

Sylvia had rolled her eyes. Sylvia.

“Who is this new person?” Nate had to know so he could strangle the man.

His assistant picked up her notepad. “Hart and Style has an established demographic. The age group ranges widely from women in their teens to those in the mid-thirties. It's in a small town, but is near a gold mine. This one being the untouched beachfront property that sooner or later the rich and famous will discover.”

“The person you met,” he insisted, knowing she'd continue to ignore him.

“The owner is relatively young. A woman without any attachments who will likely say yes to an obscene amount of money.” Sylvia finished scribbling on her pad, her face devoid of emotion.

“She didn't take the offer, and I know how much she paid for Hart and Style. Ms. Kelley plans to fight.”

That finally gave Sylvia pause. “She refused your offer?”

“Ms. Kelley intends to make this deal much harder than it needs to be.”

For a moment he allowed himself to smile again. It had been awhile since someone had denied him. In the scheme of things it didn't matter. Hart and Style would be his. It had to be.

“She's ballsy,” he added.

She smiled. “You like her.”

Forcing a mask of indifference into his features, he said, “I respect her fight, though it's misplaced.”

She tilted her head. “You don't think she'll win?”

“She will give up,” he said with certainty. “Everyone does.”

Sylvia put her notepad on the table. “Are you sure about that this time?”

“It won't be a problem,” he said with more force than necessary.

He loosened his hold on the coffee cup. This meeting and the one with Lynne had him on edge. He had mentally drooled over her delicate feet, her creamy skin, and that pink, pouty mouth.

Who in their right business mind walked around barefoot? He must have momentarily lost his hold right along with Sylvia. He had to close the deal and finish what his father had started.

Sylvia said, “She has you shook.” Surprise dripped over each word. “That's the second time you've stared off into space.” Sylvia leaned forward. “You've got to tell me what she said to you.”

He wanted to squirm under her gaze. The impulse further irritated him. Nate didn't squirm. “I want you to go into Hart and Style and ask for something she'll need to order. Be difficult, adamant. Report back to me tonight.”

Sylvia mock saluted him and began putting away her things, but he knew she'd won this round. Nate should have just asked about the new person in her life immediately.

She frowned at him. “You still haven't told me what she said to you.”

He shifted to a more comfortable position. “It's nothing she said.” It was when she flashed her bare feet that he’d been caught off guard. “It's how she looks and carries herself. I'm trying to figure out how she gets people with serious money to burn to shop there.”

She stopped stuffing her notepad into her purse. “Her charm?”

He snorted again. “Like a snake.”

The full-wattage smile came back. “You like her.”

“I respect her.” He stood to cease the incessant twitching.

“I bet she's a ten.”

“On the insane scale.”

Sylvia picked up her purse. “I'm heading over there now.”

“What?” The second the words were out of his mouth, he shook his head. He'd just asked Sylvia to go over there. He cleared his throat. “See yourself out. I need to go for my run.”

“This is going to be too good.” She sounded downright pleasant about it.

Dreamy expression, full-wattage and now giddiness? His unflappable assistant was losing her edge before a big game day. A first in years.

Not a good sign at all.

Sylvia tripped over her own feet going through Hart and Style doors. A solid but lithe chest broke the fall and the doors closed behind her. Her hands splayed over the words “Great Scott!”

She knew this chest, had gotten to know it very well over the past weekend, but he was here in this store,
working
. Her mind refused to wrap around this information.

“You work here?” her voice rasped.

Jeremy raised his brows, but his hands made their way slowly down her arms. She shivered, remembering the past weekend. Instead of going hot as she'd done Saturday morning, and at brunch, lunch and dinner, Sylvia's blood ran cold. She'd slept with the enemy.

Jeremy pursed his mouth, pushing out his thick, bottom lip. She righted herself, turned, and stepped into the glass doors. One incredible day with this man and she had turned into a klutz, but that wasn't the issue.