Read High-Powered, Hot-Blooded Online

Authors: Susan Mallery

Tags: #Man Of The Month, #Dec 2009, #Category

High-Powered, Hot-Blooded (5 page)

Annie had never paid attention to magazine articles on relaxation. Her life was busy—she didn’t have time to become one with the moment. On her best day, she was only slightly behind. One her worst day, her to-do list stretched for miles. But now, as she sat in the elegant beachfront restaurant with Duncan’s business associates and stared at the nine pieces of flatware around her place setting—most of which were totally foreign to her—she wished she’d at least read the paragraphs on how to breathe through panic.

She knew enough to start from outside and work her way in. There was also a fairly good chance that the horizontal three pieces above the decorative plate were for dessert. Or maybe dessert and cheese, and possibly coffee. The weird little fork could be for shrimp or even fish and the steak knife was clear, but what were the other three for?

Even more intimidating was the menu. While it was in English, there weren’t any prices. Did that mean everything was priced à la carte? Or was there some jumbo total given out at the end of the meal? It wasn’t that she was so worried about the price. Even the cost of a bowl of soup would probably make her faint. But she didn’t want to order the most expensive thing on the menu by mistake.

She scanned the offerings again. There was a lobster tail, a market-price fish and Kobe beef. She was pretty sure if she avoided those, she would be fine. Her gaze lingered over the pasta dishes. Two of them were homemade ravioli. The twins would love that, she thought.

“You all right?” Duncan asked, leaning close. “You’re looking tense about something.”

“We couldn’t have gone to a diner? Maybe ordered a burger?” she whispered, making him laugh.

The low chuckle seemed to move through her, making her aware of how close they sat and how great he looked in his dark suit. Duncan might be the meanest CEO two years running, but he sure could wear clothes.

“It’s business,” he told her. “This place is quiet.”

“So is my McDonald’s, anytime after eight.”

One of the three waiters serving the table appeared at her elbow. “May I get you a cocktail?” he asked.

She hesitated, not sure what the best—make that appropriate—drink would be. Or should she wait for wine?

“Ever had a cosmopolitan?” Duncan asked.

“Like in
Sex in the City
? No, but I’d love to try one. Are they really pink?”

“Unfortunately,” Duncan told her, then ordered Scotch for himself.

An older man sat down on the other side of Annie. She smiled at him as Duncan introduced him with the fact that Will Preston was the largest plumbing supply distributor on the West Coast.

“Nice to meet you,” the man said as he sat down. “Do you work?”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher.”

Will leaned toward her. “Then maybe you can answer a question for me. My wife loves to have the grandkids stay the night with us and they always want me to read them a story. It’s not that I mind doing that, but they want the same story over and over again. I read it to them and they want to hear it again. Why is that?”

“Their brains aren’t as developed as yours,” she said. “They don’t have the lifetime of experiences to draw on. So everything is new, all the time. A bedtime story offers the comfort of the familiar and they like that. They feel connected by the repetition, plus they probably hear something new every time. I would guess they also like having you read it to them, as well. Your voice, the way you pronounce the words, all become associated with time with you. You’re making memories.”

He frowned. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.” The frowned cleared. “Thank you, Annie. That makes me want to read to them more.”

“I hope you will. Because thirty years from now, when they’re reading to their children, they’ll remember this time. It will always be something you’ve shared.”

“Do you know what you want?” Duncan asked, reclaiming her attention.

She glanced at the menu. “I was thinking the twins would have enjoyed doggie bags from here.”

She was about to say more when she caught Duncan’s startled expression. Maybe talking about taking food home to her family wasn’t a good thing, she thought, suddenly uncomfortable. She closed her menu and pressed her lips together.

“Annie here has some real insights into my grandkids,” Will was telling the man across from him.

The man looked bored, although he nodded. Annie shifted in her seat.

Although she was dressed in one of the pretty cocktail dresses Cameron had picked out for her, she felt out of place. Everyone at the table was older and seemed to know each other. The women were laughing and talking with a casual ease that made her want to slowly back out of the room. Anywhere but here, she thought. What if she failed? What if Duncan decided she wasn’t doing a good job? Would he change his mind about their deal? Would Tim be pulled out of rehab and sent to jail?

Stop it, she told herself. So what if everyone in this room had some impressive job and knew what all the forks were for? She was smart. She had a career she loved and she knew she made a difference. Duncan Patrick needed her to make himself look good. If anyone should be worried about the deal being changed, it was him, not her. He was lucky to have her.

“Do I want to know why you’re smiling?” Duncan asked, leaning close and putting his arm on the back of her chair. “Are you drunk?”

“I’ve taken one sip.”

“You don’t seem like much of a drinker.”

“Maybe not, but even I can handle a cocktail.”

“Are you putting me in my place?”

“Do you need me to do that? I’m tougher than I look, Duncan.”

He laughed. “I’m sure you are.”

While it hadn’t been her best time ever, Annie managed to get through the dinner without spilling, saying anything she regretted or withdrawing completely. She’d managed to hold her own on a debate about charter schools and had offered an opinion on the latest movie sensation. When everyone was standing up to leave, the waiter appeared with two large brown bags.

“For those hungry college girls you have at home,” Duncan said. “Three entrées and dessert for all. It’ll keep them out of your secret stash.”

She was both surprised and touched. Talk about thoughtful. As they moved toward the exit, she walked slowly, waiting until everyone else had left. Then she put the bags on the nearby table, rested her hand on Duncan’s shoulder, reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re a total fraud,” she whispered. “You’re not mean at all.”

He dropped his arm around her waist and drew her closer. When he kissed her back, it wasn’t on the cheek and it wasn’t meaningless. Duncan pressed his lips to hers with a force that took her breath away. He claimed, his mouth moving against hers. There was no doubt of what he wanted, or of the fact that his intensity hinted he might just take it without asking.

She was pressed against him, his arm like a band around her, holding her in place. There was no escape, but there also wasn’t any fear, either. Instead of wanting to struggle with him, she found herself yielding, instinctively realizing that he expected a fight. Surrender was the only way to win.

As soon as she relaxed, so did his hold. His mouth gentled, still taking but with a teasing quality. She was aware of silence around them, the air of expectation. He lightly brushed her bottom lip with his tongue.

Fire shot through her. She parted for him and he claimed her with a passion that left her weak. The second his tongue touched hers she was lost. Wanting poured through her, making her surge closer. Unfamiliar desperation swamped her. She wrapped her other arm around his neck and pressed harder against the thick muscles of his chest. He could snap her like a twig, if he wanted, and that was very much a part of his appeal. The strength of him. If Duncan ever fully committed to someone, that woman would be cared for and protected forever.

He stroked the inside of her mouth, exploring, arousing. She answered each touch with a brush of her own. His hands moved against her back, before dropping lower to her hips.

Heat invaded. Wanting grew. The need was unexpectedly powerful. She’d dated before, had made love before, had even thought she’d been in love before. But none of those experiences had prepared her for a passionate kiss in Duncan’s arms.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he drew back.

“Annie,” he began, his tone warning.

She didn’t know if he was going to remind her that their deal didn’t include sex or that she was playing with fire. She met his dark, smoldering gaze and shook her head, then collected the doggie bags and turned to leave.

She didn’t want to hear that she wasn’t anyone he could be interested in. Not tonight. As to the danger of playing with fire…it was simply something she was going to have to risk.

Five
“I
’m sorry I can’t make it tonight,” Annie said, both frustrated and worried. She was starting to enjoy her evenings with Duncan at the various functions he took her to. But she was also worried about their deal. “I hope you understand. It’s a holiday emergency.”
“A contingency we seem to have missed in our agreement.”

Annie couldn’t tell if he was pissed or not and found herself a little nervous about asking.

“It’s just we had a lot of no-shows last weekend when the parents were supposed to help with the set decorations.”

“For the Christmas play?” he asked.

“It’s a winter festival, Duncan. We don’t promote any one holiday celebration.”

“And calling it a winter festival fools people?”

She heard the humor in his voice. “It’s inclusive. So there are a bunch of sets to be built and painted. I have to stay and help.”

“What is your class doing?”

“Singing ‘Catch a Falling Star’ while using American Sign Language at the same time.”

“Multitasking at five. Impressive. All right, Ms. McCoy. Call me when the sets are decorated. If there’s time, I’ll take you to the cocktail party with me.”

“I’m sorry to miss it,” she said, sincere in her regret.

“You don’t know that you will yet, do you?”

“We’re not exactly a talented group when it comes to woodworking, Duncan. We’re going to be here all night.”

“Just call me.”

She hung up and walked back into the main auditorium building. The other teachers and a couple of volunteers were dividing up the work. As the closest Annie had come to construction was the knitting class she’d taken the previous summer, she was given paint detail.

Thirty minutes later everyone was hard at work, building, sanding and painting. Fifteen minutes after that, four big guys in T-shirts, jeans and work boots walked in. Each man had an impressively large toolbox with him. The principal turned off the saw and removed her safety goggles.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“We’re here to help with the sets,” one of the guys said. “Duncan Patrick sent us.”

The teachers looked around in confusion. Annie cleared her throat. “He’s, ah, a friend of mine. I mentioned we hadn’t had our usual parent volunteers.” She was trying to look perfectly normal, which probably wasn’t working, seeing as she couldn’t stop smiling. A light, happy feeling made her think she just might be able to float home instead of drive.

The principal sighed gratefully. “We are desperate. Have you ever worked on sets for a school play before?”

The men exchanged glances. “Two of us are cabinet makers, and two of us are house painters, ma’am. We can handle it. If you’ll just tell us what needs to be done, leave us to finish it and we’re good.”

Annie pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Duncan’s number. “Thank you,” she whispered when he picked up. “This is amazing.”

“This is me making sure you don’t back out of our deal. I’ll pick you up at five. It won’t be a late evening.”

She wanted to say more, to have him admit he’d gone way out of his way to help her. But something inside her told her he didn’t want to take credit for what he’d done. The question was why. What in Duncan’s past made him believe that being nice and kind and honorable was a bad thing? Had someone hurt him? Maybe it was time to find out.

“I don’t understand,” Annie said as she put the key in the front door lock and turned it. “He’s a banker. He has lots of money. So why does he care about yours?”

“Banks get money from other people and make profit off it,” Duncan told her. “Loaning it out, investing it. The bigger the accounts, the more income for the bank.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, obviously not convinced.

They’d spent the past two hours at a boring cocktail party. In theory the evening had been about networking, but it had become clear that Duncan had been invited so a prominent banker could solicit his business. Normally he didn’t mind being courted—it could make for an excellent deal. But tonight he hadn’t been in the mood.

Instead he’d been watching the clock and checking his cell phone.

Annie shrugged out of her black wrap and dropped it on the sofa. She bent over to remove her high heels, wincing as she pulled them off.

“They weren’t kidding,” she murmured, curling her toes into the carpet. “Beauty
is
pain.”

Normally Duncan would have responded to the comment, but he was too busy watching her dress gape open, exposing her full, pale breasts. The curves looked big enough to fill his hands. Staring at them, he wondered how the soft skin would taste. He imagined his tongue circling her tight nipples, flicking them quickly as she writhed beneath him.

The image was vivid enough to cause blood to pool in his groin. He shifted uncomfortably.

Annie straightened, took a step and winced again. “I think the injury is permanent. How do women wear those shoes every day? I couldn’t stand it.” She pointed to the corner. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

He glanced in that direction and saw the decorated Christmas tree by the window. It filled the space and spilled into the room. Hundreds of ornaments seemed to cover every inch of branch. Annie flipped on the lights, which flicked on and off at a dizzying speed. It wasn’t something he would have liked and yet there was something special about the tree.

“Very nice.”

“Did you get one yet for your place?” she asked.

Of course not, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Instead he pointed to the coffee table where an instruction manual lay inside a clear plastic sleeve. “What’s that?”

She looked down, then picked up the package. “I don’t know. It’s for a freezer. We don’t have a…”

Slowly she raised her head until she stared at him. “You didn’t.”

He pointed to the kitchen. Beyond that was a utility room with a washer, dryer and as of an hour ago, a brand-new freezer. She ran through the kitchen. He followed. When he’d caught up with her, she was running her hands lovingly down the door before opening it and gazing at the full shelves.

There were packages of meat, chicken and fish, a stack of frozen pizzas, bags of vegetables, containers of juice and ice cream. Annie stared for nearly a minute, her eyes wide, her mouth open. Then she closed the door and turned to face him.

He’d known a lot of beautiful women in his life. He’d slept with them, dated some, left more than a few. He’d been seduced by the best, even been married, but no one had looked at him the way she did now—tears in her blue eyes, a expression of pure happiness on her face.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she told him.

“I know. I wanted to. You can buy in bulk. It’s cheaper. I know how you love a bargain.”

“It’s the best gift ever. Thank you.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Seriously, Duncan. This is life-changing.”

He pulled back his hand, not wanting to be sucked into the moment. He’d seen a need and filled it. Big deal. “It’s just a freezer.”

“To you. To me it’s something I don’t have to worry about for a while. It’s a chance to catch my breath.”

He’d given gifts before. Jewelry. Cars. Vacations. Now, standing in Annie’s shabby little house, he realized he’d never given anything that mattered. No one had been touched by something he’d done before. Maybe because Annie was one of the few women he’d ever liked.

Wanting and liking were completely different. He’d gone into this arrangement to improve his reputation and get his board of directors off his ass. But somewhere along the way, he’d started to like Annie. He couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.

“This is my good deed for the holiday season,” he said. “Don’t read too much into it.”

“Right.” Her smile was knowing. “Because you’re not a nice guy.”

“I’m not.”

“So I’ve heard.” She pulled open the freezer again and removed a pizza. “This has everything on it. Does that work?”

“You’re cooking a pizza?”

“They served only sushi at that cocktail party.” She wrinkled her nose. “Raw fish isn’t my favorite.”

“Pizza it is.”

She went back into the kitchen and started the oven. “Want to watch a Christmas movie while we wait?”

“No.”

She laughed. “I’d let you pick which one.”

“I’d still say no.”

The tears were gone and now her eyes sparkled with laughter. “You’re not overly domesticated, are you?”

“I never had a reason.”

“But you were married. Didn’t the former Mrs. Patrick tame you?”

He moved closer. “Do I look tamed?”

“Hmm.” She squinted. “I think I can see little marks on your cheeks where the reins went.”

He reached for her and she ducked away. But she slipped on the vinyl floor. He caught her in his arms, her body yielding against his. The need to pull her close was strong, the desire instant. But the reminder of his ex killed the moment. He let her go.

“Valentina wasn’t interested in domesticating me,” he said, deliberately stepping back.

Annie leaned against the counter. “What was she like? Cameron said she was interesting.”

“I doubt that. Cameron would have said she was a bitch.”

“That, too.”

Duncan didn’t think about his ex-wife any more than he had to. “It was a long time ago,” he said. “She was a journalism major in college. I’d just bought my first billion-dollar company. She came out to interview me for a paper she was writing. Or so she said. I think it was a way to meet me.”

Valentina was four years younger than him, but she’d been cool, sophisticated and confident. He’d been a former boxer, over-muscled and accustomed to using his size to get his way. She was all about the subtle win.

“Is she beautiful?” Annie asked, not quite meeting his gaze.

“Yes. Blond hair, blue eyes.” He studied the woman in front of him. Technically the description fit Annie as well, but the two women had nothing in common. Annie was soft and approachable. She trusted the world and thought the best of people. Valentina played to win and didn’t care who got hurt in the process.

She’d smoothed his rough edges, had taught him what it meant to be a gentleman. Through her he’d learned about wine and the right clothes and which topics of conversation were safe for polite conversation. She was all about doing the right thing—until the bedroom door closed. There she preferred him as uncivilized as possible.

“How long were you married?”

“Three years.”

“Did you…” Annie cleared her throat. “I assume you were in love with her. It wasn’t a business arrangement.”

“I loved her,” he said curtly. As much as anyone could love a woman who kept her heart firmly protected in a case of ice. “Until I walked in on her screwing one of my business partners.”

Not even in their bed, Duncan thought, still more angry than hurt at the memory. On his desk.

“I threw her out and borrowed enough money to buy off all my partners,” he said, looking past her but not seeing anything around them. Instead he saw a naked Valentina tossing her long hair over her shoulder.

“You weren’t foolish enough to think I really loved you,” she’d said in answer to his unspoken question.

He
had
been that foolish. All the time he’d been growing up he’d known he had to be strong to stay safe. With Valentina, he’d allowed himself to forget the painful lessons he learned in his youth. He never would again.

Annie touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why she would do something like that.”

“Why, because in your world marriage is forever?”

“Of course.” She looked shocked that he would even ask. “My dad died when I was really young. My mom talked about him all the time. She made him so real to me and Tim. It was like he wasn’t dead—he’d just gone on a long trip. When she died, she told me not to be sad because when she was gone, she got to be with him again. That’s what I want.”

“It doesn’t exist.”

“Not every woman is like Valentina.”

“You find anyone worthy of those dreams of yours?”

“No.” She shrugged. “I keep falling for the wrong guy. I’m not sure why, but I’ll figure it out.”

She was optimistic beyond reason. “How many times have you had your heart broken?”

“Twice.”

“What makes you think the next time will be different?”

“What makes you think it won’t be?”

Because being in love meant being vulnerable. “You would give a guy
everything
. Only for him to use you for what he can get, then walk away? Life is a fight—better to win than lose.”

“Are those the only two options?” she asked. “What happened to a win-win scenario? Don’t they teach that in business school?”

“Maybe. But not in the school of hard knocks.”

She reached for his hands and curled his fingers into fists. “It must have been frustrating to learn you couldn’t use these to battle your way out of every situation.”

“It was.”

Annie hadn’t known much about Duncan’s ex-wife beyond what Cameron had told her. Now she had a clearer understanding of what had happened. Valentina had hurt Duncan more than he would admit. She’d broken his trust and battered his feelings. For a man who was used to using physical strength when backed into a corner, the situation had to have been devastating. He’d allowed himself to lead with his heart, only to have it beaten up and returned to him.

“There hasn’t been anyone important since Valentina?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“There have been those who tried,” he said lightly.

“You’re going to have to trust one of them. Don’t you want a family?”

“I haven’t decided.”

She shook her head. “You have to admire the irony of life,” she said. “I would love to find someone and settle down, have a houseful of kids and live happily ever after. The challenge is that I can’t find anyone who sees me as the least bit interesting in the romantic department. You, on the other hand, have women throwing themselves at you, begging to be taken, but you’re not interested.” She stared into his gray eyes. “You shouldn’t give up on love.”

“I don’t need your advice.”

“I owe you something for the freezer.”

“The pizza is enough.”

“Okay. Want to go find something violent on television while I put this in the oven?”

“Sure.”

She watched him walk out of the kitchen.

Knowing about his past explained a lot. What Duncan didn’t realize was that under that tough exterior was a really nice guy, which he wouldn’t want to hear anyway. Guys hated to be called nice. But he was. She couldn’t turn around without tripping over the proof.

What had he been like before he’d met Valentina? A strong man, willing to trust and give his heart. Did it get any better than that? The oven beeped. She opened the pizza box, then slid the contents onto a cookie sheet and put it in the oven.

Did Duncan’s ex have any regrets? Had she figured out everything she’d lost and wished for a second chance? Annie didn’t know her, so she couldn’t say. She only knew that if she were ever given a shot at a man like Duncan, she would hold on with both hands and never let go.

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