Sierra’s chance of winning had just gotten even better.
H
ands on his hips, Blade surveyed the bulldozer cutting through the rich earth of the Maya peninsula to build a canal that would link the lagoon estates on the Navarone Riviera Maya properties. When completed, there would be roughly twenty miles of freshwater canals to take the place of streets. Each property would sit either on the canal, inland, or on the breathtaking Caribbean coastline. The exotic setting would be like no other.
“We’re six weeks ahead of schedule,” Sam Crane, the construction foreman, said proudly. He was a tall man with a thin, serious face and an eye for detail. “We should be finished with your residence in a month.”
It had been Blade’s practice to have a place on-site to oversee construction, but also to see if there were any flaws in design. “As always, you and your crew have done an excellent job.”
“We have a good incentive.” Sam chuckled. “Can’t have Dave’s crew in Dallas get the best of us.”
Blade didn’t need any reminder about Dallas. As hard as he worked, thoughts of Sierra still managed to show up. The week was up. Tonight the winner would be announced. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else. “I’ll tell your brother that when I return this afternoon.”
“Do that. And don’t forget to tell him, while he’ll be sweltering soon, I’ll be on the beach.” Sam shook his head. “Sure glad I won that coin toss.”
“I’ll tell him.” Blade extended his hand. “See you soon.”
The handshake was firm. “Safe travel.”
Hands in his pockets, Blade went to the car waiting to take him to the airport for the two-and-a-half-hour flight to Dallas. He just wished he knew what he was going to do after the winner was announced.
S
ierra was nervous. She knew she’d sold well, but so had Ted and Erma, the Realtors from San Francisco.
Blade, tall, dark, and self-assured, entered the private dining room. Sierra’s pulse raced. Her nervousness increased. Shane and the other man she’d seen with them at the hotel in San Francisco were a step behind.
“Oh my,” Willie Jackson, the Tucson Realtor, whispered, and sat up straighter. “I hope my heart can take this. I wonder if the men with Mr. Navarone are available.”
It wasn’t lost on Sierra that the woman thought Blade unobtainable. Apparently there were few women in his life, which suited Sierra. Willie could drool over Shane and the other man all she wanted. Sierra understood their appeal. Women would be drawn to their dark, dangerous looks.
Whereas Shane’s hair was closely cropped, the man with him had thick curly black hair that brushed his razor-sharp cheekbones. His forehead was broad, his nose slightly bent as if it had been broken, but it gave him a rakish appearance. His eyes were hard, with an unblinking stare.
The woman wouldn’t know if she wanted to run to him or away. Yet even as the thought formed, she knew instinctively that before she took one step away, he’d catch her. Once she was caught, he’d make her scream for mercy or beg for pleasure.
Although Shane didn’t look as foreboding, there was something lethal about him. He could be merciless.
Both were broad-shouldered, both gorgeous. Neither held the appeal, the magnetic pull, Blade held for Sierra. Other men simply didn’t exist when he was in the room.
Blade went directly to the head of the rectangular table. The two men with him positioned themselves on either side of him. John gave him an envelope, then stepped back.
“Good evening,” Blade said. “I want to thank each of you for your hard work. Of course, each of you will receive a check for your commission. As you were informed previously, the decision is final.” He opened the envelope and unfolded a sheaf of paper. His head lifted, his face expressionless. “The winner, with three sales, is Sierra Grayson.”
Sierra didn’t know what she expected … yes, she did. She thought Blade would be happy. He wasn’t. Her chin jutted.
“Congratulations, Sierra.” Ted hugged her. “If I’d had another day, things might have been different. I had two.”
“I was way behind with one,” Erma, the other Realtor from San Francisco, said. “I knew it was over when you had all those ladies in for tea in one of the models. Wish I had thought to do that.”
Congratulations continued from others in the room, but not from Blade. He remained apart. He and the two men with him stood like sentries or guards, unsmiling, alert. Shane, Blade’s shadow, looked bored. You couldn’t tell what the other man thought.
“Let’s toast the winner,” John suggested, and lifted his glass.
Sierra dutifully lifted her glass. If Blade wanted to forget what had happened, hoped that she might forget, so be it. If he could ignore her, she could return the favor.
“Sierra Grayson. Congratulations and continued success as the newest Navarone employee,” John said.
Sierra touched her glass with those around her. John Perry might have welcomed her, but Blade apparently didn’t.
Telling everyone she wanted to call her family, Sierra was the first to leave the private dinner. She was tired of trying to keep from looking at Blade. In her room, she called her mother, did three-ways until she’d talked to all her family. Next she’d called Daniel and then Dominique. Sierra had just hung up from speaking with her cousin when there was a knock on her door.
Her skin prickled.
Blade.
She didn’t have a doubt in the world. Tossing her hair back behind her shoulder in an unconscious challenge, she went to answer the door.
“Hello, Blade. Was there something else?” she asked, pleased that her voice was steady, although shivers raced through her. Was there ever any man more magnificent or alluring or dangerous to a woman’s peace of mind, not to mention other parts of her body?
“You’re a hard woman to forget.” Stepping across the threshold, he closed the door behind him.
“Having me around is not going to make it any easier,” she replied evenly, although she was doing handsprings in her mind. She didn’t think much worried Blade, though he looked worried now.
Blade wasn’t surprised she had figured out that he was the one behind her being here. “I gave John your name, but you could have lost.”
Sierra shot him a look of disbelief and tsked. “I’ve lost few things in my life that I have gone after.”
His fingers trailed down the flawless skin on her cheek. He felt her tremble. “Does that include me?”
She angled her head in a familiar thoughtful gesture. “I’m still weighing the cost.”
Smart and outspoken.
So was he. “Me, too. Whatever happens between us won’t be easy,” he said.
Her eyes watching him didn’t falter. He’d been right: she was a strong, fearless woman, and that could present a problem. He’d just have to make sure she remained safe. He wouldn’t be caught off guard again. “I don’t imagine it will be,” she finally told him.
As he took her slim hand in his, Blade’s thumb glided over the erratic pulse in her wrist, while he thought of putting his lips there, and on the tempting swell of her breasts over the V of the jeweled gown. “Tomorrow you will be moved to Navarone Place. I will be there as well.”
Her pulse leaped under his thumb. Her black eyes widened. Fear or anticipation, he couldn’t tell.
“You’ll move into one of the furnished units on the fourth floor. You don’t have to worry about packing or unpacking. A maid will do it for you and be at your disposal during your entire stay,” he continued smoothly, making it sound simple when both knew it wasn’t. “Would you have breakfast with me in the morning? If you accept, Martin will be beside himself.”
“Good bribe, but I think you’ve forgotten something,” she said, watching his brow knit. “The bet. Pay up.”
“Sierra—”
“You can give it willingly or else I’ll be forced to resort to underhanded techniques,” she said, interrupting him.
He looked at her with suspicion. “What?”
She walked around him, enjoying the way he had tensed. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect from her.
Good.
She felt the same way about him. “Pay up or suffer the consequences.”
“Sierra, I can’t smile on demand,” he said, a bit annoyed.
She walked around his incredible sexy body again. This time he turned with her. “Then why did you put it in your note?”
“Because—”
She stopped and looked up at him. Clearly he was wrestling with telling her his reason. “Because …” Her voice trailed off, encouraging him.
His hand raked through his unbound hair. “Because I wanted you to stay and it was the only thing that you had asked for. Even then, you wanted it for me.”
Her heart trembled. Who or what had hurt him so badly? She wanted to comfort him, take the pain away, but instinctively knew he wouldn’t accept her attempt to help. Instead, she swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Since I’m a reasonable woman and since I’m on your payroll, I’ll take a rain check for now.”
He saw the tears glistening in her eyes and his gut twisted. His hands cupped her face, then slid into her. hair. “Don’t. Please don’t.”
“Can’t a woman be a little misty if she’s just landed the dream job of a lifetime and is about to move into a million-dollar estate rent-free?”
What kind of woman gave so effortlessly and asked nothing in return? What she wanted he couldn’t give. Too many demons haunted him … but for her, he’d try. The corners of his mouth curved slightly upward. It was probably a pitiful attempt at a smile, but it was the best he could do with his stomach churning. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Her hands covered his. “Please tell Martin I love French toast.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up farther. Only Sierra. “I’ll tell him.” Leaning over, he brushed his lips softly against hers. “Good night and welcome aboard.”
“Good night.” Sierra wrapped her arms around herself as the door closed. She wondered if Blade realized he’d smiled.
A
half past eight the next morning Sierra stood on the street in front of Navarone Place. There was already a beehive of activity as construction workers in hard hats and steel-toed boots worked to finish the interior of the Italian-style marble structure that reached twenty-two impressive stories into the clear Dallas sky. Because of the unique architectural design, each estate had a private terrace.
She felt a strong sense of pride. She’d done it, earned the right to be the exclusive broker. She would help shape the building as well, just in a different way.
She lifted her gaze to the top of the estates. Blade was up there in the penthouse suite. Perhaps he was looking out on all that he had accomplished, planning his next project or planning on how to get her in his bed.
She knew that, yet she still planned to meet him for breakfast. He fascinated her. No man had ever done that before. There was a distinct possibility that she might have gotten in over her head.
She’d never run from a challenge or a fight. As she came from a strong-willed family, it wasn’t in her to do so. Blade would be both.
“Pretty.”
Sierra glanced over her shoulder to see who had spoken. A man in a hard hat, with shoulders a yard wide, squatted in front of a yellow wildflower that had somehow managed to push itself up through the hard, baked dirt just off the sidewalk.
“Yes, it is,” she said.
He looked up, his expression vague, as if he hadn’t known she was there. “You like flowers?”
The words didn’t flow smoothly from the huge man, who had to weigh at least 250 pounds. He had the biggest hands she had ever seen. “Yes, I do.”
Opening his lunch kit, he removed a Thermos and slowly watered the plant. “Flowers need water.”
“And protection.” She picked up small pieces of broken concrete, then squatted and placed them around the flower. “There.”
The bear of a man gave her a wide grin. She smiled back.
“Jess, you aren’t bothering Ms. Grayson, are you?”
Sierra looked up to see a man similarly dressed in construction garb, a worried frown on his dark face. She wondered how he knew her. “I was the one interfering.” She rose to her feet and extended her hand. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”
The man jerked off his hard hat, stuck out his gloved hand, then snatched it back and quickly removed the glove. “Sorry. Dave Crane, construction foreman. Jess Harmon is the best welder in my crew.” He glanced at Jess, then back at Sierra, “I hope he didn’t bother you.”
“He didn’t.” She smiled at Jess, who had his head tucked. “He and I both like flowers. I was admiring his.”
Jess’s head came up. “I watered it.”
“All right, Jess. Get to work.”
Warily the big man looked around as if frightened, then whispered, “Is he here?”
The foreman cut a glance at Sierra. “Yes, but—”
Jess didn’t wait. He just took off at a fast clip.
“Who is he scared of?” Sierra questioned. She detested people being picked on because they were different or made to feel as if they didn’t belong. She’d experienced both.
The foreman replaced his hard hat. “Jess … Jess is special.”
“Who?” Sierra asked.
“Mr. Navarone,” he said, then hastened to add, “Jess heard Mr. Navarone take a man to task for being careless and causing an accident. Jess has been uneasy around him ever since. He’s the strongest man I know, but he’s as gentle as a lamb and doesn’t like arguments.”
Blade’s anger would be something to see. But he wasn’t cruel. “He shouldn’t be afraid of Blade.”
“I’ve tried to talk to him, but it hasn’t done any good. Since they aren’t likely to see each other again, I decided to let it go.” The foreman glanced at his watch. “I’d better get to it myself. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye.” Sierra continued into the building. She wasn’t afraid of Blade, but that didn’t mean she didn’t plan on being cautious.
O
nly Sierra
.
On the terrace of his home Blade stood in the shadow of a seven-foot cone-shaped topiary. He’d tracked Sierra from the moment she’d left the W and seen her staring up at the building. Then, to his utter surprise, she’d struck up a conversation with one of his construction workers.
Blade hadn’t seen what they were looking at until he’d gotten his binoculars. A small flower that Sierra had placed concrete around. He couldn’t hear what she said, but he could see the smile on her face, imagine her sweet laughter.
Obviously she had never met a stranger and could charm anyone she set her mind to. Him included.
The doorbell interrupted his musings. He tossed the binoculars on the cushioned chaise and went to answer the door.
S
ierra rang Blade’s doorbell and told herself not to be nervous, but it wasn’t helping. Blade clearly wanted more than a professional relationship and, if she was honest, she wanted the same thing. However, becoming involved with a man like Blade presented its own set of problems that she wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with.
The door opened. She’d expected the man who had greeted them in San Francisco.
“Good morning, Sierra. Why the look of surprise?”
“Good morning, Blade.” She stepped inside. “I imagined you’d have someone else doing this.”
“Correct, Ms. Grayson.” The elderly man from San Francisco appeared. “It
is
my job.”
Sierra smiled and extended her hand. “Please call me Sierra. Blade knows what a hearty appetite I have and was just helping.”
A smile warmed the man’s austere face. “Nice save.” He extended his hand. “Hal Jenkins. It’s a pleasure to meet you again, Sierra.”
“Don’t keep her standing in the foyer.” Martin joined them and took her arm. “Hello, Sierra. If you please, with your French toast you’ll have Canadian bacon, diced onions with potatoes, and a fruit bowl.”
“You read my mind, Martin,” she said, allowing herself to be led through the immense great room done in luxurious ecru and white. She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll see you later, Mr. Jenkins.”
“Jenkins, if you please,” the servant said, then looked at Blade. “Hurry up so she can eat.”
Blade looked at Jenkins’s retreating back. In Blade’s memory, his butler, an all-around man, had never ordered him about. But then Blade had never brought a woman like Sierra to his home. In fact, there had been no woman.
Sierra was a “first” in too many ways to count.
“Mr. Navarone, if you please.” Martin popped back out of the small dining room off the kitchen. “Your guest is waiting.”
Shaking his head, Blade followed the chef. If he had to break tradition, he might as well enjoy it.
S
ierra held up her hand as Martin tried to tempt her with another slice of French toast made with real butter and topped with freshly made whipped cream and slivers of strawberries and blueberries. She smiled up at the hovering chef. “This breakfast was the perfect way to start the day.”
“You honor me.” Bowing, he was gone.
“He was beside himself last night when I told him you were coming for breakfast.” Blade leaned back in his chair, unable to keep himself from trying to visualize Sierra wearing his silk robe and nothing else, instead of one of her smart suits, this one white. “You have a way with men.”
“People,” she clarified. “Two of my sales this week were to women.”
“I stand corrected.” He didn’t want to argue with her; he wanted to make love to her until both of them were too exhausted to move.
Something in her narrowed gaze said she had a good idea what he was thinking. Sadly, he couldn’t tell whether she liked the idea or not. She was attracted to him, but as she’d said last night, she was still weighing her options. He planned to do everything in his power to sway her to his way of thinking and into his bed.
It wouldn’t lead to anything permanent, but for a short while he would know her softness, know a woman cared for him and not his wealth. A normal life with a woman was impossible. He thought he had accepted the idea, gotten over the wanting, but Sierra caused it to resurface. To be with her longer would be too risky. The media would become interested, and so might the wrong kind of people.
Sierra came to her feet. “Thank you for breakfast. I need to get to the sales office.”
He stood. “I’ll follow you down and show you to your place.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. Perhaps it would be best if I remain at the W.”
He’d thought she might have second thoughts, but he didn’t intend for her to win this battle. “Staying at the W when you can stay in a furnished model of one of the estates you’re selling with the height of luxury and convenience sends the wrong message.”
“Staying here when we’ve stepped over the professional line a time or two sends the wrong message as well,” she told him.
He went to her, his gaze bold and hungry. “A time or two is just the beginning.”
“Self-assurance is one thing, arrogance, another.” She started to step around him. His hand circling her upper forearm stopped her.
“Sierra—”
“Move it or lose it.”
The words were said with such cold precision, his fingers unfurled. He had a sneaky feeling she’d think nothing of trying to break his hand if he didn’t. “Can we go back a few minutes to when we just finished breakfast?”
She shot him a look. “You think you’ll be able to keep your foot out of your mouth this time?”
“I’ll certainly try,” he said earnestly. “But could you please work with me a bit?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not used to explaining myself,” he said tightly.
“A little humility is good for the soul.” She reached around and picked up her almost empty glass of orange juice and casually sipped.
He was being given another chance. “I admit I never thought of what people might say if we were in the same building, but there would be talk if you were here or at the W. Besides, being able to show the property at whatever time that is convenient to the customer would be a plus. In addition, if any of your family wanted to visit you, you have two guest bedrooms. If you wanted to have another tea or a light lunch for prospective buyers, Martin would be at your disposal. You and he could also work on the late-night menu you suggested once Navarone Place is opened.”
“Would it have hurt you to say all this at the first?”
If he had thought of it, it probably wouldn’t have. “As I said, I’m not used to explaining myself.”
She set the glass on the table without looking away. “I admire your business savvy and your accomplishments, but I won’t follow you blindly.”
“I’ll remember that.” He wanted to reach out his hand, to hold her, touch her, but clearly she was in a business mode this morning. “If you have time, I’d like to show you the estate.”
“I have time.”
S
ierra was speechless. She had been joking last night when she had said she’d be living in a million-dollar estate.
“Since you had your tea here, I thought you’d like this one best and would be more comfortable here.”
Sierra dragged her gaze from the beautifully furnished room with classic lines of furnishings. “Because it was the largest, the most elegant and costly.”
“Living here will give you an even greater perspective.” Blade glanced around the room. “If you don’t like anything, you only have to call the designer.”
Sierra’s eyes twinkled. “Jacques would have a fit if I even moved a chair,” she said. She’d met the Dallas designer when she’d invited him to have tea with the group of ladies from the Belo Mansion meeting.
“He’d probably move it himself,” Blade said. “He sent word by John that if there was any justice in the world, you would emerge victorious.”
“He’s a wonderful interior designer. You have the ability to surround yourself with the top people in their field. The mark of good leaders is knowing they can’t do it all by themselves.”
The unexpected compliment went straight to his heart. From his pocket he pulled a key ring with the silver initial N. “This is the only key to the front door. It works the old-fashioned way for now. No one will be able to get inside unless you let them.”
She took the key without looking at him. “Thank you.”
“There’s already twenty-four-hour security on the grounds, but I’ve extended it to inside the building. This floor will be monitored by TV, so don’t worry. I want to show you something.” He took her to the intercom in the sleek kitchen. “Fire, police, or if you just feel off, someone can be here in less than a minute.”