Perfect Partners (2 page)

Morgan chuckled. “Good man. Charlie was always telling us how useful you were. He claimed it was solely because of you that he got to spend the past ten years fishing full-time.”

“I did my best to take the day-to-day problems of running Thornquist off his shoulders,” Joel murmured.

“I know you did. I'm sure you and Letty are going to work very well together, too,” Morgan announced. “You two have obviously got a great deal to discuss.”

“Dad, please,” Letty said, “this is hardly the time or place to talk about business.”

“Nonsense,” Morgan retorted. “Uncle Charlie would not have wanted us to get maudlin. And you and Joel need an opportunity to get to know each other. The sooner the better. Letty, why don't you come on back to the cabin in Joel's car? You can give him directions, and the two of you can introduce yourselves properly.”

Joel saw the uncertainty in Letty's eyes as she considered that proposition. He decided then and there that the best way to handle his new boss was to save her the difficulty of having to make challenging decisions all by herself.

“Good idea,” Joel said easily. He took a firm grip on Letty's arm and started toward the church steps. “My Jeep is parked right outside.”

“Well…” Letty's eyes darted quickly back and forth between her father and Joel. “If you're sure you don't mind?”

“I don't mind at all.”

Just as Joel had anticipated, his own decisiveness seemed to make up Letty's mind for her. Clutching her black shoulder bag, she allowed him to draw her along in his wake.

No sweat, Joel thought. This was going to be like taking candy from a baby. Charlie had been just as easy to handle in his way.

Right up until the end, that is, when good old Charlie had screwed him over royally.

“Ouch,” said Letty. “You're hurting my arm.”

“Sorry.” Joel forced himself to relax his fingers.

Charlie, you bastard, how could you do this to me
?

Letty sat uneasily in the passenger seat as Joel drove the Jeep through the tiny mountain community and onto the blacktop road that ran along the small river gorge. She gripped her purse firmly in her lap and slanted her new CEO an assessing sidelong glance. She was puzzled by the tension she sensed in Joel Blackstone.

Granted, funerals were emotional occasions, but this was more than the somber mood one would have expected at the loss of a boss. There was a restless impatience in Joel Blackstone. Letty could feel it. It burned in his tawny gold eyes and vibrated along every line of his lean, hard body.

He seethed with it, although he was masking it well beneath a layer of cool self-control. There was anger burning in him, too. Letty could feel it, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

Angry men were dangerous.

The sense of potentially explosive power in Joel was underlined by the fiercely molded planes and angles of his face. It was a savage face, Letty thought, a face that reflected the ancient hunting instincts that by rights should have lain deeply buried in a modern, civilized man. They were clearly much too close to the surface in Joel Blackstone. She guessed he was in his mid-thirties, thirty-six or thirty-seven, perhaps. Something about him looked and felt far older, however.

Letty was torn between a nearly overwhelming curiosity and an equally strong sense of caution. She had never met a man who managed to make her wary in quite this manner. It was a primitive sensation.

“How long did you work for my great-uncle, Mr. Blackstone?” she finally asked politely when the silence got to be oppressive.

“Nearly ten years.”

“I see.” Letty moistened her lips. “He, uh, spoke highly of you. Said you were very sharp. He thought you had a certain instinct for business.”

“Yeah. I had an instinct instead of an M.B.A.” Joel flashed her a brief amused glance. “He spoke highly of you, too, Ms. Thornquist. Said you were a bright little thing.”

Letty winced. “I don't think Great-Uncle Charlie was very much impressed by academia. He always treated it with a sort of indulgent condescension.”

“He was a self-made man. He didn't think too much of the ivory tower life.”

“And neither do you, I take it?” With effort, Letty kept her tone polite.

“Charlie and I had a few things in common. That was one of them.”

Letty pursed her lips. “Not exactly. I think you feel actual disdain for it. Charlie was not disdainful.”

“Is that right?” Joel did not sound particularly interested.

“Charlie raised my father after my grandparents died. It was Charlie who financed Dad's education all the way through graduate school, you know. So you see, he couldn't have been completely disdainful of the academic life.”

Joel shrugged. “Charlie believed in letting people do what they wanted with their lives. All he asked was that they leave him alone so that he could go fishing as often as possible.”

“Yes, I guess that's true, isn't it?” So much for trying to ease the tension with idle conversation, Letty thought. She wondered what sort of woman Joel Blackstone dated. Surely if he had a wife he would have brought her to the funeral.

Whoever his woman was, she would have to be a very sensual creature, Letty decided. A man like Joel would want a woman who could respond to him in a very physical way.

Of course, she reminded herself, most men wanted that sort of woman. Even Philip, whom she'd thought would not be quite so demanding, had needed a more responsive woman. It was fortunate for all concerned that she had discovered that fact during their engagement rather than after the marriage had taken place.

“How long will you be out here on the Coast, Ms. Thornquist?”

“You may call me Letty.”

“Sure. Right. Letty. How long?”

“I don't know yet.”

Some of Joel's superficial control dissolved for an instant, revealing a hint of the restless impatience Letty sensed churning inside him. “What do you mean, you don't know?” Joel glowered at the narrow, winding road through the Jeep's windshield. “Don't you have to get back to that college where you work?”

“Vellacott?”

“Yeah, Vellacott, or whatever. Don't you have to get back to your job?”

“No.”

“But Charlie said you worked in the library there.”

“I did. Reference desk. Nearly six years.” Letty gripped the dashboard. “Would you mind slowing down a little?”

“What?” Joel threw her a scowl.

“I said, would you mind slowing the car a little,” Letty repeated carefully.

“Your father's already pulling ahead of us. Nice car, by the way.”

Letty glanced at the red Porsche convertible. It was moving swiftly, clinging to the twisting road like a limpet. Morgan had the top down, and Stephanie's silver-gold hair was secured beneath a white scarf. Stephanie looked good in white, Letty reflected. It suited her ice-maiden beauty.

“The Porsche belongs to Stephanie,” Letty said. “My father drives a BMW.”

Joel cocked a brow. “You sound as if you disapprove. Got something against nice cars?”

“No. It's just that it's a little odd to have a stepmother who drives a candy red Porsche,” Letty admitted, “when the most exciting thing I've ever driven is a Buick. Please slow down. You don't have to worry about getting lost. I know how to get to their house.”

Joel eased his foot off the accelerator. “You're the boss.”

Letty smiled, pleased at the sound of that. “Yes, I am, aren't I? It feels very strange, you know.”

“Inheriting a company the size of Thornquist out of the clear blue sky? Yeah, I can see where that might feel a little weird.” Joel's hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Tell me, Letty, do you have any experience in the business world?”

“No, but I've read a great many books and articles on the subject since I learned that Great-Uncle Charlie left me Thornquist Gear.”

“Books and articles, huh? You know, Letty, there's quite a difference between the business world and an academic environment.”

“Is there?” She studied the scenery. Twilight came early in the Cascades, she noticed. The heavily forested terrain was already turning dark and mysterious as the last of the sun disappeared. She was accustomed to wide open spaces and gentle rolling hills. These wild, aggressive mountains were a bit overpowering. Just like Joel Blackstone.

“A world of difference,” Joel said pointedly. “I don't know if Charlie ever mentioned it to you, but he and I had a sort of unofficial understanding.”

“Did you?”

“I was going to buy him out in another year.”

“Were you?”

Joel flicked her another quick sidelong glance. “That's right. Look, I know it's a little too soon to talk about it, but I want you to know I'm still prepared to go through with the deal. I'll continue to run the company for the next year, just as I have for the past ten years. Then, when I've got the financing in place, I'll cash you out. How does that sound?”

“The turnoff is up ahead on the right.”

Joel's jaw tightened. “Thanks.”

He slowed the Jeep and obediently turned off the river road onto an even tinier one that led into the trees. The structure of glass and wood at the end of the lane was a cabin in name only. By anyone's standards it was a lovely and expensive home.

“You can park behind the Porsche,” Letty said.

“Nice place,” Joel said, casting a knowledgeable eye over the sleek lines of the house. “I didn't know professors got paid enough to afford Porsches and weekend cabins like this.”

“My father is one of the country's leading experts on medieval philosophy. By temperament and training, he is himself a fine logician. My stepmother has written some of the most important papers being published today on syntactic and semantic analysis.”

“So?”

Letty was amused. “So they are both brilliant analytical thinkers. It gives them an edge when it comes to making financial investments.”

“I'll keep that in mind the next time I want some advice on the stock market,” Joel said. He opened the Jeep door and got out. Then he started around the hood to open Letty's door.

Letty saw what was happening and scrambled out on her own. She did not want Joel getting the impression that just because he worked for her, he was expected to wait on her hand and foot. She had a feeling things were going to be difficult enough as it was between herself and Joel Blackstone.

Letty walked hesitantly into the gleaming kitchen and saw Stephanie at the sink. “Can I help?” she offered, already knowing what the answer would be.

“No, thank you, Letty.” Stephanie smiled her cool, serene smile as she peeled shrimp. “Everything's under control in here. Why don't you go out and visit with your father and Joel?”

Everything was always under control with Stephanie. Letty wondered what it would take to ruffle the glassy smooth surface of her stepmother's glacial poise. “All right. If you're certain there's nothing I can do.”

“I'll call you if I need you,” Stephanie promised.

“Well, if you insist. What are you preparing?”

“Black linguini with shrimp and mussels.”

Letty blinked. “I don't believe I've ever had black linguini. Do they use food coloring to make it black?”

“Heavens no.” Stephanie looked startled. “Squid ink.”

“Oh.” Letty retreated from the kitchen.

Stephanie would not call for assistance, Letty knew, because she would not want anyone else in her pristine, orderly world. Too much risk of a mess, no doubt.

Stephanie was a gourmet cook. This did not surprise Letty, because she had learned very quickly that everything Stephanie did, she did with a high level of expertise. What amazed Letty about Stephanie's cooking was that she turned out truly exotic fare without creating so much as a ripple of disorder on the surfaces of her steel and white tile kitchen.

Morgan was talking to Joel near the seven-foot windows when Letty entered the living room. He glanced at his daughter.

“Ah, there, you are, my dear. We were just about to open a bottle of Yakima Valley sauvignon blanc. I think you'll like it.” He turned to Joel. “Letty hasn't spent much time out here in the Northwest yet. We're trying to educate her palate.”

“I am told Seattle is a foodie town,” Letty said dryly.

Joel shrugged. “I don't know about that, but we like to eat. And we like to eat well.”

“So I have been given to understand. All right, Dad. I'm ready to try your latest discovery.” Letty sat down on one of the white leather sofas. She noticed Joel stayed near the window, gazing out over the night-darkened forest.

“This one is a genuine find, I'm pleased to say.” Morgan went to work at the small bar built into the far end of the living room. “Great depth and finesse. Very subtle. Quite sophisticated, actually.”

“Sophisticated” was a word Professor Morgan Thornquist would never have applied to a bottle of wine in the old days. Letty was still coming to terms with the changes she was witnessing in her father.

Some of them were good, she conceded. He had shed the extra twenty pounds he had carried for as long as Letty could remember, and he'd given up his pipe. He looked healthy and happy, and there was a new spring in his step. There was no denying he was thriving out here in the Pacific Northwest.