Authors: Linda Francis Lee
Tags: #Romance, #Sex in the workplace, #Fiction
Sinfully Sexy (11 page)
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     Katherine Bloom
From: Chloe Sinclair
Subject: We're on
Chloe Sinclair
Station Manager
Award-winning KTEX TV
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To: Chloe Sinclair
     Katherine Bloom
From: Julia Boudreaux
Subject: Ticktock
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     Julia Boudreaux
From: Katherine Bloom
Subject: Agree
Katherine C. Bloom
News Anchor, KTEX TV West Texas
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To: Chloe Sinclair
     Katherine Bloom
From: Julia Boudreaux
Subject: Better idea
p.s. Brava on getting the house secured! We're on our way!
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To: Julia Boudreaux
Kathenne Bloom
From: Chloe Sinclair
Subject: Date?
Katherine Bloom
From: Julia Boudreaux
Subject: Don't make me laugh
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Sterling sat back in his makeshift office and felt an arrogant
satisfaction at how things were going. The show was scheduled to start
taping the following day. Eight a.m. sharp.
Julia had just informed him that the fifteen- and thirty-second spots
promoting the show had been
running successfully for the last five days, and the response was more
than encouraging. They'd had phone calls to the main switchboard and
e-mail to the new address he had set up, all showing excitement about
the coming presentation of the program they were teasing as
The Catch and His Dozen Texas Roses
.
No video of the bachelor or the girls. Just alluring clips of the back
of an unknown man in a
tuxedo and an assortment of faceless women wearing long, beaded gowns.
At this point, El Paso was intrigued. In a matter of twenty-four hours
they were about to be tied to their televisions without a thought for
the remote. He felt the rush of impending success in his veins. The
challenge and the taste of imminent victory were sweet on his tongue.
At least success in turning
KTEX around.
The only piece of all this that frustrated the hell out of him was
Chloe. He hadn't been able to get the memory of her in the bathroom out
of his head. Or get her to soften toward him at all.
She still drove him crazy. Him, known for his ironclad control. He who
never showed emotion. And
she still made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him.
Which made him all the more determined to win her over.
Not that he planned to get involved with her on a serious level. He
wasn't interested in getting involved with any woman at this point in
his life. He'd made a rule of that. Primarily in self-defense. He
couldn't think of anyone in the last ten years who hadn't made it clear
she wanted to be Mrs. Sterling Prescott. Women had been trying to gain
his attention for as long as he could remember. He was used to it. But
there were moments when he wondered if any of them wanted more than the
prestige of his name and the money that came with being part of the
Prescott clan.
It had never bothered him before. However, he had never thought about
children. He'd been too busy rebuilding to think of beginning a family
of his own. But he was older now, thirty-five, old enough to
start thinking of a family of his own.
Wedding any of the wealthy socialites he usually dated seemed about as
appealing as marrying a
porcelain doll. He didn't want to think about being stuck in a marriage
like his parents had. He knew
they loved each other in their own way, but the truth was, each was
more concerned about his or her
own world. His father and his life of little pressure and ease. His
mother and her grand parties and days filled with social functions.
Each of them had come from that world and saw no reason to live any
differently now. The women Sterling met were varying versions of his
mother.
Which was what made Chloe unique.
She had zero interest in the rich Sterling Prescott. And while she
wanted nothing to do with him as Trey Tanner either, that was because
of her distaste for his association with a man like Sterling Prescott.
But when she hadn't known he was from Prescott Media, when she had
simply reacted to him as a
man, she had wanted him.
"
Kiss me
."
Heat raced along his skin at the thought. He wanted her. He wanted to
take her in his arms and finish what they had started. And he would.
She intrigued him. He wanted to know more about her. Where did she come
from? What was it that made her seem so different from other women he
had met? Why was she even more closed off about personal issues than he
was?
A fist banged on his office door. "Knock, knock."
Ben stood in the doorway, looking rugged and disreputable in a plain
black T-shirt, faded jeans, and
some chunky black boots that looked like they belonged on a
construction worker.
Sterling hadn't seen him in over a week, not since they had gone and
finally rented a car. The minute Sterling had keys in his hand, Ben had
slapped him on his back and said, "You're on your own. Good luck.
Though if you need me, just call."
Sterling had called him this morning to ask him to come by the office.
"Hello, Ben. Come in. I'm glad you could stop by."
"What's up?" Ben asked, sitting down in the metal folding chair across
from him with a smile that
Sterling had noticed never came easily anymore.
"Two things." Sterling picked up a sheet of paper.
"You made a list for two things?"
He shot him a look. "No, it's an address. I wondered if you could take
a few remaining items over to the houses we're using as sets for
The Catch
. We start taping
tomorrow, and the ever faithful Taurus we rented is full."
"No problem." Ben reached out and took the address. "What else?"
Steepling his fingers, Sterling considered his brother. "I want you to
find out everything you can about Chioe."
Ben eyed him. "You've got to be kidding."
"Have you ever known me to kid?"
"No," he conceded. "But I've also never known you to do anything stupid
either."
"I don't see any harm in learning a bit about a woman who is working
for me."
"Last I heard, you hadn't bought the station yet."
"Do it anyway. And don't give me the Trey-wouldn't-do-it excuse. When
he was working for me,
I paid him enough to afford to do a background check on someone."
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Probably not. But do it anyway. Check around. She has a father. She
told me that he loves her, that they're close. I heard he's traveling
so that we can use her house for the bachelor. But where's the mother?
Or any other family? What kind of family is she from?"
"I didn't realize social standing made a difference in how a person
performed her job," Ben stated with
a raised brow.
"Never hurts to know what you're up against. As we both know, a family
has a great deal to do with
the kind of adults we become." Sterling stood and came around the desk.
"You can use my computer: I've got a few things to finish up with Chloe
before we head over to the houses."
Sterling didn't wait for an answer. He headed down the hall toward
Chloe's office.
Ben watched him go, shaking his head. How could anyone related to him
be so clueless? And Sterling
was definitely clueless when it came to anything other than business.
There was no denying the man was a gifted deal maker. But Ben often
thought that his older brother
had lost touch with the real worldâthe world that most everyone else
lived in. The world Ben lived in, breathed in, existed in.
The question was, Could Sterling ever find his way back? Did he want to?
"Look who's here."
Ben swiveled in his chair. Julia stood in the doorway. Her skirt was
short, tight, and undoubtedly showed off her great ass. He still
remembered walking behind her down the hall the other day.
He forced himself to look away from the rest of her body that cried out
for a long, hard, hot night of sex.
"If it isn't G.I. Joe," she purred.
Ben smiled and stood. "If it isn't Barbie."
"Cute," she said, clicking into the office. "I'm looking for your
brother. Have you seen him?"
"He's meeting with Chloe."
She turned to go.
"Hey, cupcake," he called out.
She raised a perfect brow and mouthed Cupcake.
"How long have you, Kate, and Chloe been friends?" As long as he had a
job to do, he would start by questioning Julia.
"Who wants to know?"
"Just curious. You don't often find three women working together who
seem to be the sort of friends
you are."
"We've been friends for as long as I can remember, or at least for as
long as it matters."
"You grew up together?"
"Next door to one another." Then she shifted the focus. "What about you
and Trey? Where were you raised? He was so chatty in e-mail before he
showed up. I never would have guessed he was the strong, silent type
based on his e-mails."
Ben knew when not to push. "Amazing what e-mail can hide." He pulled
his keys from his pocket. He would use his own computer at his
apartment to start his search on Chloe. "I'm making a trip over to
the set. I'd best get going since I don't have much time."
"What, do you have a hot date tonight?"
She seemed surprised by her question.
He leaned close and smiled at her. "Would you care?"
Julia laughed with disdain. "Are you on drugs?"
"You're a drug, cupcake. Mind altering and equally as lethal."
Then he turned and disappeared before he could do the crazy-ass thing
he wanted to do. Kiss the hell
out of her.
her desk, her fingers flying over
a calculator, tallying and retallying, a pencil clamped between her
teeth.
"Hello," he said.
Her head jerked up, and he was surprised by the way her blue eyes lit
up like Christmas ornaments,
her happiness and enthusiasm blazing, her expression unguarded.
She opened her mouth and held out her hand to catch the pencil when it
dropped. "Have you seen this?" she demanded excitedly. She waved a
piece of paper at him.
He peered closer.
"It's the numbers for the show. Good numbers. Great numbers. Amazing
numbers. I've run and rerun everything, and based on the ad revenue
we're pulling in, this has to come close to meeting the station's debt!
With one show! It's amazing!"
It was the first time he had seen her truly let her guard down around
him. The sight sent a jolt of surprising pleasure through himâpleasure
that he had put a smile on her face, even if it was simply
with numbers.
She leaped up and did a little victory dance. Her hair swung out, and
her arms extended up in the air
like Rocky's. So unplanned, so very real. Not practiced and measured,
or determined to please.
"Your plan is genius!" She stopped and looked at him, then smiled even
more broadly. "I apologize. I
was completely wrong about the show. The advertisers have gone crazy. I
can't tell you how many times I've heard everyone from
Cost's Dairy
to
Home Ford
tell me how local news
isn't drawing big enough numbers. And just as many don't want to pay
for spots on national programming."
"So you approve?"
"Approve? I'm thrilled! We've hit the jackpot!" She raised her chin and
looked him straight, unflinchingly in the eye. "And it's all because of
you."
Success.
It shouldn't prove hard to get her to say something to Ben to make her
approval known. He should have been happy that another piece of his
plan had fallen into place. But somehow this threw him. One minute he
was lamenting the fact that she continued to be headstrong against him.
Then the next, when she openly told him she approved, he felt an angry
dissatisfaction. Which was ridiculous.
He had the disconcerting thought that he wished like hell she had been
pleased with Sterling Prescott,
not Trey Tanner.
"It's what I'm here for," he said curtly. "We just have a few things
left, then we can head over to the house to make sure everything is
set."
If she noticed his tension, she didn't let on. "Great!" she said, then
sat down and planted her elbows on the desk.
Clearly she wasn't one to hold on to grudges, he thought as he sat
across from her. She saw the success they were about to have, and she
was nothing if not thrilled and grateful. He had seen his share of
people who, when proven wrong, stubbornly refused to admit it. Not
Chloe.
"What's left?" she asked. "I'll do anything."
He stopped in the middle of handing over a sheet of paper. He felt his
brow rise, heat rushing through him. "Anything?"
He saw the minute she blushed. "Well, umâ"
He laughed out loud. That was the other thing about her. No matter how
ticked off he might be, she
had the ability to make him laugh. "Just joking."
"You?"
"I can joke with the best of them," he stated defensively.
"Then tell me a joke."
That stumped him. He couldn't think of the last time he had heard a
joke, now that he thought of it.
Not since he was a kid and they did that orange banana thing.
"And not some knock-knock, orange you glad I didn't say banana thing,"
she added.
"You're scary," he said before he could think.
"Me? Why?"
Because it seemed like she understood him, could read his mind, and the
childish orange banana joke
was merely an example. He didn't like it at all.
"We have a long night ahead of us," he said by way of answering. "Is
there any coffee around here?"
"Great idea. I'd love a cup. Can you bring me one, too?"
Sterling stared at her for half a second as the gears in his brain
tried to assimilate her request. "Coffee? You want me to bring you some
coffee?"
"With a little milk and two cubes of sugar would be great." She
laughed, sliding her silky dark hair back behind the perfect shell of
her ear. "If the caffeine doesn't work, hopefully the sugar will.
Thanks, Trey."
For a second he was confused, then he winced. He was Trey. Damn.
"Well, sure," he said out loud, nodding as he stood. He'd never gotten
coffee for anyone in his life. Someone always brought it to him. But
Trey Tanner would bring coffee.
"Yes, I'll get coffee," he said with determination.
He stopped at the door when he realized he had no idea where he was
going to get it.
"In the lunchroom," she said. "Where we set up our interview station."
"I knew that."
Sterling walked down the hall. He had pulled together the show in the
requisite two weeks, saw no
reason that the show would not run without a hitch during the following
two weeks. Plus, not minutes earlier he had gotten Chloe to admit she
approved. He was on the fast track to proving he was more
than his name and his money. He felt ready to take on the next
challenge.
He never would have guessed it waited for him in the lunchroom.
Inside the small room, he found the coffeepot, but there wasn't a drop
of brew to be had. Now what?
He went to a row of cabinets, went through each until he found a tin of
Folgers with a stack of paper sleeves on top. Though there weren't any
sort of instructions about how to make it. So he guessed. He shoveled
grounds into a paper sleeve, added water, then hoped for the best.
He was admittedly ridiculously proud when Chloe poked her head in just
as the last of the trickle
dribbled to a halt.
"I thought you might have gotten lost," she said.
"No, I had to make a pot."
"Oooo, Trey, I'm impressed. You come up with great ideas and can brew
coffee, too."
Chloe watched as he searched for two cups. He really was handsome in a
rugged way. And making coffee for her made him seem even more rugged.
So confident in his masculinity that he could serve
her without feeling threatened. Living on the border of Mexico, she
dealt with more than her fair share
of men who still thought they were back at the turn of the centuryâthe
twentieth century.
She curled up on a straight-backed chair and rubbed her hands together
as he poured her a cup. She felt oddly comfortable sitting there with
him now that she was forced to concede there was more to him than she
had believed. He hadn't been trying to fool them. He was saving the
station. And now he had made her coffee.
"About those numbers," he said, sitting on the edge of the table after
he served them both.
"Wait," she interrupted, "cheers!"
She clinked her cup with his. The first clue that all was not right was
the smell. But she only got a whiff on the way past her nose, not
enough for the warning sign to go off in her head. Too late, she took a
sip.
"Ahhgh," she managed over a choke.
"What?" He jerked his cup away so fast that coffee sloshed over the
side. "What happened?"
She cleared her throat.
"The coffee? Is something wrong?"
She had never seen such a wounded expression. You'd think it was the
first cup he'd ever made, it
meant so much to him.
"Wrong?" she equivocated, hating to hurt his feelings. "No, nothing's
wrong."
He took a sip, and she swore she could see his straight dark hair start
to curl.
"Haven't you ever made coffee before?" she asked carefully.
His shoulders came back and he took another sip, this time with
determination. "I love a good, strong cup."
"Then you succeeded." She stood and took her cup to the sink. "It's
really kind of late for coffee anyway."
It was endearing how he had tried, then blustered through. She smiled
as she emptied the mug, then rinsed it.
But when she turned back from the sink, her breath caught. He was
there, close, standing in front of
her. She felt her pulse leap. He reached out, but he didn't touch her.
He set his coffee down on the counter beside her.
Their gazes met and held. Suddenly all traces of teasing were gone.
Stepping closer, he never looked away. She pressed back, the counter
against her spine. Then he touched her. Just barely, the backs of
his fingers brushing along her cheek.
"I've wanted to do that for days," he said, his voice a gruff whisper
of sound.
She didn't reply, didn't know how. Her skin tingled where he touched
her, her body beginning a slow, deep, steady throb.
"I can't get you out of my head. I think of you, I dream of you." He
caught her off guard when he
tugged off her glasses.
She grabbed at them, but it was too late.
He held them up and looked through them. "As I suspected. Clear,
nonprescription glass."
"That's not true!" She tried to get them back.
"Isn't it?"
Biting her lip, she wrinkled her nose in guilt.
"Why?" he asked.
She shrugged. "A habit, I guess. First I wanted to look older. Then
smarter."
"And you thought glasses did that?"
"They did."
"I think you look plenty smart without them."
He tossed the glasses onto the counter next to their cups. The plastic
frames clattered on the Formica. Then he braced his hands on either
side of her, bringing them face-to-face.
"I'm going to kiss you."
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea."
"Why?"
"We hardly know each other."
"That didn't stop us at the hotel."
"Thanks for the reminder."
"Of what? Of how sexy you were? Of how much you made me want you?"
"Did you?"
"Yes."
She looked at his lips, wanted to lean into him. But doing it would be
crazy. He worked for Sterling Prescott. He was an employee of a company
whose entire raison d'etre seemed to be gobbling up
weaker entities and spitting out anyone and anything that didn't suit
it. She didn't understand how
again and again she found herself drawn to a man that she couldn't like
or respect.
But that was the thing, she thought suddenly, her breath drawing in
sharply. He wasn't like that horrible Sterling Prescott. Trey Tanner
was filled with kindness and honor. Trey Tanner understood that a llama
was a perfectly respectable reincarnation choice.
She thought about this man, thought about how she had worked hard to
keep him at arm's length. But now, with everything on the verge of
falling into place, she was forced to reassess.
The truth was, she had been keeping him at arm's length first because
she had been embarrassed by her behavior at the hotel. Then she really
did hate Prescott Media and all they stood for. But Trey Tanner had
proved he was a different sort of man.
Startled and amazed and perhaps more relieved than she wanted to admit,
she blurted out, "I owe you
an even bigger apology."
"What for?"
"I've misjudged you," she added with bone-deep sincerity.
He smiled then, just barely. "So you're saying you were wrong about me?"
Her eyes narrowed with emotion. "Yes."
She expected him to gloat. But the single syllable caused a flicker of
surprise in his dark eyes, hardly
seen, the flash of emotion covered up so quickly she wouldn't have seen
it had she not been staring
right at him.
He didn't gloat, didn't say anything at all. He cupped her face with
his hands, so large and strong. Then
he tilted her just a little more as he leaned closer. The brush of his
lips sent a thrill through her body,
and her breath exhaled softly.
"Better than I remembered," he whispered against her mouth.
He kissed her again, slowly, like an expert gentling a skittish mare.
She wanted to run away. She wanted to throw her arms around him and
demand more. With a sigh, she gave in.
When he ran his thumb across her lower lip, she opened to him just as
he kissed her again. His tongue retraced the path of his thumb along
her mouth until he dipped slightly to taste her. Just a taste.
She breathed in, inhaling his scent. Slowly he pulled her to him, her
eyes going wide before drifting to his mouth. They stood facing each
other as he reached out and ran the backs of his fingers along her jaw.
She felt the wild flutter of her pulse.
"You're so soft," he said.
"You're so hard."
Then red singed her cheeks. He grinned, seeming pleased, as his hand
ran up her arm, the sensible material of her blouse so thin that she
could feel the heat of him.
"I am hard," he answered, "painfully so. All you have to do is walk
into the room and I want you."
Her body melted against him as his hand slid around her back, his other
cupping her face to tilt her to him. He touched her with his lips then,
barely, softly, his teeth nipping at her mouth. The feel of him made
everything fade awayâsense, reality, the world beyond the lunchroom
doorâmaking it impossible to pull away.
He groaned into her mouth, and she tasted him, the hint of peppermint
mixed with the dusky taste of coffee.
"You do something to me," he said, the words a gruff accusation as he
trailed his lips back to her ear.
Her head fell back, exposing the long column of her neck, and he sucked
gently as her fingernails curled into his shirt. He stroked the line of
her jaw with the backs of his hands, then lower and lower, until he
came to the V of her blouse. Holding her, he traced her lips with his
tongue and undid one button after
the next.
Her heart raced. Her mind whirled with anticipation and alarm. When his
hand slid inside and he cupped her breast, she gasped. For one long
second she tensed, but when he ran his thumb over the thin lace of her
bra, her mouth opened on a silent sigh.
Her resistance faded away and he slipped his palm into the cup. In an
explosion of passion, they couldn't get close enough. Their mouths
slanted together, their hands exploring. Never letting her go, he
turned them around until he could lean back against the edge of the
counter, pulling her between the hard brace of his thighs. The gentle
curve of her abdomen cradled his hardness, and when she moved just so,
she could tell that sensation shot through him. He wanted her. Here,
now. And she wanted him. Badly.
Which was why it was so difficult to stop things.
With her body screaming in protest, she dropped her head until her
forehead pressed against his chest.
Â
     Katherine Bloom
From: Chloe Sinclair
Subject: We're on
Dad
is going to Ruidoso. He leaves in the morning.
Chloeis going to Ruidoso. He leaves in the morning.
Chloe Sinclair
Station Manager
Award-winning KTEX TV
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To: Chloe Sinclair
     Katherine Bloom
From: Julia Boudreaux
Subject: Ticktock
And
not a second too soon. I'll bring over the keys and instructions about
how to get there.
not a second too soon. I'll bring over the keys and instructions about
how to get there.
Anyway,
how did the rest of it go? Are you okay, sugar? There's only one person
in your life
who has the ability to undo our strong Chloe. And that's Richard Maybry.
xo, jhow did the rest of it go? Are you okay, sugar? There's only one person
in your life
who has the ability to undo our strong Chloe. And that's Richard Maybry.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
     Julia Boudreaux
From: Katherine Bloom
Subject: Agree
Chloe,
you're all right, yes? I worry about you when it comes to your father.
Do you want to
come over for a glass of wine?
Kyou're all right, yes? I worry about you when it comes to your father.
Do you want to
come over for a glass of wine?
Katherine C. Bloom
News Anchor, KTEX TV West Texas
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To: Chloe Sinclair
     Katherine Bloom
From: Julia Boudreaux
Subject: Better idea
Let's
go to Bobby's Place for a little celebration. We'll have cosmos and
maybe something to eat. It's been weeks since the Girls went to
Bobby's. Though oops, sorry, I forgot. I can't. I have a
date with a delicious bad boy who is sure to make me purr.
xo, jgo to Bobby's Place for a little celebration. We'll have cosmos and
maybe something to eat. It's been weeks since the Girls went to
Bobby's. Though oops, sorry, I forgot. I can't. I have a
date with a delicious bad boy who is sure to make me purr.
p.s. Brava on getting the house secured! We're on our way!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To: Julia Boudreaux
Kathenne Bloom
From: Chloe Sinclair
Subject: Date?
What
is it with you and bad boys, Julia?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------is it with you and bad boys, Julia?
Â
Katherine Bloom
From: Julia Boudreaux
Subject: Don't make me laugh
As
if the two of you don't know!
xo, jif the two of you don't know!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
EIGHT
Everything was set.Sterling sat back in his makeshift office and felt an arrogant
satisfaction at how things were going. The show was scheduled to start
taping the following day. Eight a.m. sharp.
Julia had just informed him that the fifteen- and thirty-second spots
promoting the show had been
running successfully for the last five days, and the response was more
than encouraging. They'd had phone calls to the main switchboard and
e-mail to the new address he had set up, all showing excitement about
the coming presentation of the program they were teasing as
The Catch and His Dozen Texas Roses
.
No video of the bachelor or the girls. Just alluring clips of the back
of an unknown man in a
tuxedo and an assortment of faceless women wearing long, beaded gowns.
At this point, El Paso was intrigued. In a matter of twenty-four hours
they were about to be tied to their televisions without a thought for
the remote. He felt the rush of impending success in his veins. The
challenge and the taste of imminent victory were sweet on his tongue.
At least success in turning
KTEX around.
The only piece of all this that frustrated the hell out of him was
Chloe. He hadn't been able to get the memory of her in the bathroom out
of his head. Or get her to soften toward him at all.
She still drove him crazy. Him, known for his ironclad control. He who
never showed emotion. And
she still made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him.
Which made him all the more determined to win her over.
Not that he planned to get involved with her on a serious level. He
wasn't interested in getting involved with any woman at this point in
his life. He'd made a rule of that. Primarily in self-defense. He
couldn't think of anyone in the last ten years who hadn't made it clear
she wanted to be Mrs. Sterling Prescott. Women had been trying to gain
his attention for as long as he could remember. He was used to it. But
there were moments when he wondered if any of them wanted more than the
prestige of his name and the money that came with being part of the
Prescott clan.
It had never bothered him before. However, he had never thought about
children. He'd been too busy rebuilding to think of beginning a family
of his own. But he was older now, thirty-five, old enough to
start thinking of a family of his own.
Wedding any of the wealthy socialites he usually dated seemed about as
appealing as marrying a
porcelain doll. He didn't want to think about being stuck in a marriage
like his parents had. He knew
they loved each other in their own way, but the truth was, each was
more concerned about his or her
own world. His father and his life of little pressure and ease. His
mother and her grand parties and days filled with social functions.
Each of them had come from that world and saw no reason to live any
differently now. The women Sterling met were varying versions of his
mother.
Which was what made Chloe unique.
She had zero interest in the rich Sterling Prescott. And while she
wanted nothing to do with him as Trey Tanner either, that was because
of her distaste for his association with a man like Sterling Prescott.
But when she hadn't known he was from Prescott Media, when she had
simply reacted to him as a
man, she had wanted him.
"
Kiss me
."
Heat raced along his skin at the thought. He wanted her. He wanted to
take her in his arms and finish what they had started. And he would.
She intrigued him. He wanted to know more about her. Where did she come
from? What was it that made her seem so different from other women he
had met? Why was she even more closed off about personal issues than he
was?
A fist banged on his office door. "Knock, knock."
Ben stood in the doorway, looking rugged and disreputable in a plain
black T-shirt, faded jeans, and
some chunky black boots that looked like they belonged on a
construction worker.
Sterling hadn't seen him in over a week, not since they had gone and
finally rented a car. The minute Sterling had keys in his hand, Ben had
slapped him on his back and said, "You're on your own. Good luck.
Though if you need me, just call."
Sterling had called him this morning to ask him to come by the office.
"Hello, Ben. Come in. I'm glad you could stop by."
"What's up?" Ben asked, sitting down in the metal folding chair across
from him with a smile that
Sterling had noticed never came easily anymore.
"Two things." Sterling picked up a sheet of paper.
"You made a list for two things?"
He shot him a look. "No, it's an address. I wondered if you could take
a few remaining items over to the houses we're using as sets for
The Catch
. We start taping
tomorrow, and the ever faithful Taurus we rented is full."
"No problem." Ben reached out and took the address. "What else?"
Steepling his fingers, Sterling considered his brother. "I want you to
find out everything you can about Chioe."
Ben eyed him. "You've got to be kidding."
"Have you ever known me to kid?"
"No," he conceded. "But I've also never known you to do anything stupid
either."
"I don't see any harm in learning a bit about a woman who is working
for me."
"Last I heard, you hadn't bought the station yet."
"Do it anyway. And don't give me the Trey-wouldn't-do-it excuse. When
he was working for me,
I paid him enough to afford to do a background check on someone."
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Probably not. But do it anyway. Check around. She has a father. She
told me that he loves her, that they're close. I heard he's traveling
so that we can use her house for the bachelor. But where's the mother?
Or any other family? What kind of family is she from?"
"I didn't realize social standing made a difference in how a person
performed her job," Ben stated with
a raised brow.
"Never hurts to know what you're up against. As we both know, a family
has a great deal to do with
the kind of adults we become." Sterling stood and came around the desk.
"You can use my computer: I've got a few things to finish up with Chloe
before we head over to the houses."
Sterling didn't wait for an answer. He headed down the hall toward
Chloe's office.
Ben watched him go, shaking his head. How could anyone related to him
be so clueless? And Sterling
was definitely clueless when it came to anything other than business.
There was no denying the man was a gifted deal maker. But Ben often
thought that his older brother
had lost touch with the real worldâthe world that most everyone else
lived in. The world Ben lived in, breathed in, existed in.
The question was, Could Sterling ever find his way back? Did he want to?
"Look who's here."
Ben swiveled in his chair. Julia stood in the doorway. Her skirt was
short, tight, and undoubtedly showed off her great ass. He still
remembered walking behind her down the hall the other day.
He forced himself to look away from the rest of her body that cried out
for a long, hard, hot night of sex.
"If it isn't G.I. Joe," she purred.
Ben smiled and stood. "If it isn't Barbie."
"Cute," she said, clicking into the office. "I'm looking for your
brother. Have you seen him?"
"He's meeting with Chloe."
She turned to go.
"Hey, cupcake," he called out.
She raised a perfect brow and mouthed Cupcake.
"How long have you, Kate, and Chloe been friends?" As long as he had a
job to do, he would start by questioning Julia.
"Who wants to know?"
"Just curious. You don't often find three women working together who
seem to be the sort of friends
you are."
"We've been friends for as long as I can remember, or at least for as
long as it matters."
"You grew up together?"
"Next door to one another." Then she shifted the focus. "What about you
and Trey? Where were you raised? He was so chatty in e-mail before he
showed up. I never would have guessed he was the strong, silent type
based on his e-mails."
Ben knew when not to push. "Amazing what e-mail can hide." He pulled
his keys from his pocket. He would use his own computer at his
apartment to start his search on Chloe. "I'm making a trip over to
the set. I'd best get going since I don't have much time."
"What, do you have a hot date tonight?"
She seemed surprised by her question.
He leaned close and smiled at her. "Would you care?"
Julia laughed with disdain. "Are you on drugs?"
"You're a drug, cupcake. Mind altering and equally as lethal."
Then he turned and disappeared before he could do the crazy-ass thing
he wanted to do. Kiss the hell
out of her.
*Â
*Â *
Sterling walked into Chloe's office without knocking. She leaned over*Â *
her desk, her fingers flying over
a calculator, tallying and retallying, a pencil clamped between her
teeth.
"Hello," he said.
Her head jerked up, and he was surprised by the way her blue eyes lit
up like Christmas ornaments,
her happiness and enthusiasm blazing, her expression unguarded.
She opened her mouth and held out her hand to catch the pencil when it
dropped. "Have you seen this?" she demanded excitedly. She waved a
piece of paper at him.
He peered closer.
"It's the numbers for the show. Good numbers. Great numbers. Amazing
numbers. I've run and rerun everything, and based on the ad revenue
we're pulling in, this has to come close to meeting the station's debt!
With one show! It's amazing!"
It was the first time he had seen her truly let her guard down around
him. The sight sent a jolt of surprising pleasure through himâpleasure
that he had put a smile on her face, even if it was simply
with numbers.
She leaped up and did a little victory dance. Her hair swung out, and
her arms extended up in the air
like Rocky's. So unplanned, so very real. Not practiced and measured,
or determined to please.
"Your plan is genius!" She stopped and looked at him, then smiled even
more broadly. "I apologize. I
was completely wrong about the show. The advertisers have gone crazy. I
can't tell you how many times I've heard everyone from
Cost's Dairy
to
Home Ford
tell me how local news
isn't drawing big enough numbers. And just as many don't want to pay
for spots on national programming."
"So you approve?"
"Approve? I'm thrilled! We've hit the jackpot!" She raised her chin and
looked him straight, unflinchingly in the eye. "And it's all because of
you."
Success.
It shouldn't prove hard to get her to say something to Ben to make her
approval known. He should have been happy that another piece of his
plan had fallen into place. But somehow this threw him. One minute he
was lamenting the fact that she continued to be headstrong against him.
Then the next, when she openly told him she approved, he felt an angry
dissatisfaction. Which was ridiculous.
He had the disconcerting thought that he wished like hell she had been
pleased with Sterling Prescott,
not Trey Tanner.
"It's what I'm here for," he said curtly. "We just have a few things
left, then we can head over to the house to make sure everything is
set."
If she noticed his tension, she didn't let on. "Great!" she said, then
sat down and planted her elbows on the desk.
Clearly she wasn't one to hold on to grudges, he thought as he sat
across from her. She saw the success they were about to have, and she
was nothing if not thrilled and grateful. He had seen his share of
people who, when proven wrong, stubbornly refused to admit it. Not
Chloe.
"What's left?" she asked. "I'll do anything."
He stopped in the middle of handing over a sheet of paper. He felt his
brow rise, heat rushing through him. "Anything?"
He saw the minute she blushed. "Well, umâ"
He laughed out loud. That was the other thing about her. No matter how
ticked off he might be, she
had the ability to make him laugh. "Just joking."
"You?"
"I can joke with the best of them," he stated defensively.
"Then tell me a joke."
That stumped him. He couldn't think of the last time he had heard a
joke, now that he thought of it.
Not since he was a kid and they did that orange banana thing.
"And not some knock-knock, orange you glad I didn't say banana thing,"
she added.
"You're scary," he said before he could think.
"Me? Why?"
Because it seemed like she understood him, could read his mind, and the
childish orange banana joke
was merely an example. He didn't like it at all.
"We have a long night ahead of us," he said by way of answering. "Is
there any coffee around here?"
"Great idea. I'd love a cup. Can you bring me one, too?"
Sterling stared at her for half a second as the gears in his brain
tried to assimilate her request. "Coffee? You want me to bring you some
coffee?"
"With a little milk and two cubes of sugar would be great." She
laughed, sliding her silky dark hair back behind the perfect shell of
her ear. "If the caffeine doesn't work, hopefully the sugar will.
Thanks, Trey."
For a second he was confused, then he winced. He was Trey. Damn.
"Well, sure," he said out loud, nodding as he stood. He'd never gotten
coffee for anyone in his life. Someone always brought it to him. But
Trey Tanner would bring coffee.
"Yes, I'll get coffee," he said with determination.
He stopped at the door when he realized he had no idea where he was
going to get it.
"In the lunchroom," she said. "Where we set up our interview station."
"I knew that."
Sterling walked down the hall. He had pulled together the show in the
requisite two weeks, saw no
reason that the show would not run without a hitch during the following
two weeks. Plus, not minutes earlier he had gotten Chloe to admit she
approved. He was on the fast track to proving he was more
than his name and his money. He felt ready to take on the next
challenge.
He never would have guessed it waited for him in the lunchroom.
Inside the small room, he found the coffeepot, but there wasn't a drop
of brew to be had. Now what?
He went to a row of cabinets, went through each until he found a tin of
Folgers with a stack of paper sleeves on top. Though there weren't any
sort of instructions about how to make it. So he guessed. He shoveled
grounds into a paper sleeve, added water, then hoped for the best.
He was admittedly ridiculously proud when Chloe poked her head in just
as the last of the trickle
dribbled to a halt.
"I thought you might have gotten lost," she said.
"No, I had to make a pot."
"Oooo, Trey, I'm impressed. You come up with great ideas and can brew
coffee, too."
Chloe watched as he searched for two cups. He really was handsome in a
rugged way. And making coffee for her made him seem even more rugged.
So confident in his masculinity that he could serve
her without feeling threatened. Living on the border of Mexico, she
dealt with more than her fair share
of men who still thought they were back at the turn of the centuryâthe
twentieth century.
She curled up on a straight-backed chair and rubbed her hands together
as he poured her a cup. She felt oddly comfortable sitting there with
him now that she was forced to concede there was more to him than she
had believed. He hadn't been trying to fool them. He was saving the
station. And now he had made her coffee.
"About those numbers," he said, sitting on the edge of the table after
he served them both.
"Wait," she interrupted, "cheers!"
She clinked her cup with his. The first clue that all was not right was
the smell. But she only got a whiff on the way past her nose, not
enough for the warning sign to go off in her head. Too late, she took a
sip.
"Ahhgh," she managed over a choke.
"What?" He jerked his cup away so fast that coffee sloshed over the
side. "What happened?"
She cleared her throat.
"The coffee? Is something wrong?"
She had never seen such a wounded expression. You'd think it was the
first cup he'd ever made, it
meant so much to him.
"Wrong?" she equivocated, hating to hurt his feelings. "No, nothing's
wrong."
He took a sip, and she swore she could see his straight dark hair start
to curl.
"Haven't you ever made coffee before?" she asked carefully.
His shoulders came back and he took another sip, this time with
determination. "I love a good, strong cup."
"Then you succeeded." She stood and took her cup to the sink. "It's
really kind of late for coffee anyway."
It was endearing how he had tried, then blustered through. She smiled
as she emptied the mug, then rinsed it.
But when she turned back from the sink, her breath caught. He was
there, close, standing in front of
her. She felt her pulse leap. He reached out, but he didn't touch her.
He set his coffee down on the counter beside her.
Their gazes met and held. Suddenly all traces of teasing were gone.
Stepping closer, he never looked away. She pressed back, the counter
against her spine. Then he touched her. Just barely, the backs of
his fingers brushing along her cheek.
"I've wanted to do that for days," he said, his voice a gruff whisper
of sound.
She didn't reply, didn't know how. Her skin tingled where he touched
her, her body beginning a slow, deep, steady throb.
"I can't get you out of my head. I think of you, I dream of you." He
caught her off guard when he
tugged off her glasses.
She grabbed at them, but it was too late.
He held them up and looked through them. "As I suspected. Clear,
nonprescription glass."
"That's not true!" She tried to get them back.
"Isn't it?"
Biting her lip, she wrinkled her nose in guilt.
"Why?" he asked.
She shrugged. "A habit, I guess. First I wanted to look older. Then
smarter."
"And you thought glasses did that?"
"They did."
"I think you look plenty smart without them."
He tossed the glasses onto the counter next to their cups. The plastic
frames clattered on the Formica. Then he braced his hands on either
side of her, bringing them face-to-face.
"I'm going to kiss you."
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea."
"Why?"
"We hardly know each other."
"That didn't stop us at the hotel."
"Thanks for the reminder."
"Of what? Of how sexy you were? Of how much you made me want you?"
"Did you?"
"Yes."
She looked at his lips, wanted to lean into him. But doing it would be
crazy. He worked for Sterling Prescott. He was an employee of a company
whose entire raison d'etre seemed to be gobbling up
weaker entities and spitting out anyone and anything that didn't suit
it. She didn't understand how
again and again she found herself drawn to a man that she couldn't like
or respect.
But that was the thing, she thought suddenly, her breath drawing in
sharply. He wasn't like that horrible Sterling Prescott. Trey Tanner
was filled with kindness and honor. Trey Tanner understood that a llama
was a perfectly respectable reincarnation choice.
She thought about this man, thought about how she had worked hard to
keep him at arm's length. But now, with everything on the verge of
falling into place, she was forced to reassess.
The truth was, she had been keeping him at arm's length first because
she had been embarrassed by her behavior at the hotel. Then she really
did hate Prescott Media and all they stood for. But Trey Tanner had
proved he was a different sort of man.
Startled and amazed and perhaps more relieved than she wanted to admit,
she blurted out, "I owe you
an even bigger apology."
"What for?"
"I've misjudged you," she added with bone-deep sincerity.
He smiled then, just barely. "So you're saying you were wrong about me?"
Her eyes narrowed with emotion. "Yes."
She expected him to gloat. But the single syllable caused a flicker of
surprise in his dark eyes, hardly
seen, the flash of emotion covered up so quickly she wouldn't have seen
it had she not been staring
right at him.
He didn't gloat, didn't say anything at all. He cupped her face with
his hands, so large and strong. Then
he tilted her just a little more as he leaned closer. The brush of his
lips sent a thrill through her body,
and her breath exhaled softly.
"Better than I remembered," he whispered against her mouth.
He kissed her again, slowly, like an expert gentling a skittish mare.
She wanted to run away. She wanted to throw her arms around him and
demand more. With a sigh, she gave in.
When he ran his thumb across her lower lip, she opened to him just as
he kissed her again. His tongue retraced the path of his thumb along
her mouth until he dipped slightly to taste her. Just a taste.
She breathed in, inhaling his scent. Slowly he pulled her to him, her
eyes going wide before drifting to his mouth. They stood facing each
other as he reached out and ran the backs of his fingers along her jaw.
She felt the wild flutter of her pulse.
"You're so soft," he said.
"You're so hard."
Then red singed her cheeks. He grinned, seeming pleased, as his hand
ran up her arm, the sensible material of her blouse so thin that she
could feel the heat of him.
"I am hard," he answered, "painfully so. All you have to do is walk
into the room and I want you."
Her body melted against him as his hand slid around her back, his other
cupping her face to tilt her to him. He touched her with his lips then,
barely, softly, his teeth nipping at her mouth. The feel of him made
everything fade awayâsense, reality, the world beyond the lunchroom
doorâmaking it impossible to pull away.
He groaned into her mouth, and she tasted him, the hint of peppermint
mixed with the dusky taste of coffee.
"You do something to me," he said, the words a gruff accusation as he
trailed his lips back to her ear.
Her head fell back, exposing the long column of her neck, and he sucked
gently as her fingernails curled into his shirt. He stroked the line of
her jaw with the backs of his hands, then lower and lower, until he
came to the V of her blouse. Holding her, he traced her lips with his
tongue and undid one button after
the next.
Her heart raced. Her mind whirled with anticipation and alarm. When his
hand slid inside and he cupped her breast, she gasped. For one long
second she tensed, but when he ran his thumb over the thin lace of her
bra, her mouth opened on a silent sigh.
Her resistance faded away and he slipped his palm into the cup. In an
explosion of passion, they couldn't get close enough. Their mouths
slanted together, their hands exploring. Never letting her go, he
turned them around until he could lean back against the edge of the
counter, pulling her between the hard brace of his thighs. The gentle
curve of her abdomen cradled his hardness, and when she moved just so,
she could tell that sensation shot through him. He wanted her. Here,
now. And she wanted him. Badly.
Which was why it was so difficult to stop things.
With her body screaming in protest, she dropped her head until her
forehead pressed against his chest.
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