The Billionaire's Beautiful Mistake (Bold Alaskan Men Book 1) (3 page)

But Beth hurried back out the door and the moment was gone.  “Okay, let’s go!” Beth said and slammed the door shut. 

Violet was looking back at the bar one last time, so she missed the look that the four other women gave to each other.  Beth and Jane even high-fived in the back seat. 

Creek stared at the cute woman as she rushed back outside into the darkness, then down at the piece of paper.  With a surge of satisfaction, he almost laughed out loud.  The piece of paper had Violet’s name, phone number and an address on it.  Bingo!

“Looks like you struck out on the cute one,” Knox commented as he moved behind the bar to fill three beers. 

Saeger and Tucker were leaning against the other side of the bar and chuckled.  “Went down in flames, if you ask me,” Saeger teased. 

Creek ignored all of them as he stuffed the paper into his pocket.  “Go to hell,” was his only response. 

Tucker took a long sip of his beer.  “Looks like you might already be there,” he commented, looking pointedly at the painted blond woman who was obviously trying hard to gain Creek’s attention. 

Creek glanced over at the woman, then back down at his friends.  “Not my type,” he replied, completely uninterested after seeing Violet’s adorable bottom and the way her sweater hid what he suspected were very fine curves.  Damn, he thought, shifting uncomfortably as his body hardened just at the memory of the woman reaching up to grab the beer mugs, revealing a small slice of white flesh.  Her waist had been so tiny, he suspected he might be able to wrap his hands around it.  A smooth, flat stomach and those hips!  If he could get her naked, he knew he’d be in heaven. 

“Earth to Creek!” Tucker called out. 

Knox only chuckled, more of a strong, silent type.  But he was a genius at playing the stock market.  People begged him to invest their money.  He’d more than doubled the money that Creek, Tucker and Saeger had given him over the past few years.  What’s more, the man didn’t play the market to make more money.  That was only a side benefit.  It was like a game to him and he always won.  He had a sort of sixth sense about companies and stocks, knowing when to get in and when to get out.  Of course, the man played his game with a ferocity that some might call lethal.  Others had used the term brutal.  But Knox didn’t give a damn.  He paid no attention to any of it. Just moved on to the next challenge.

“If you’re so hot for the woman, why are you standing here?” Tucker asked. 

Tucker was into environmental technology and the security surrounding his companies was on par with Fort Knox.  Everyone wanted to know what he was going to invent next, wanted in on the designs or just to find out when to invest.  When he released a product to the world, the world changed. 

Creek sighed and picked up another glass to polish.  “Because she’s not like the normal bar flies that hang out here.  She’s sweet and shy.”

“In other words, she ignored you,” Saeger teased, taking a gulp of his beer. 

Saeger was the computer guy among the four.  He had gaming companies that others vied to keep up with, and other divisions that sold software technology to appliance manufacturers, car companies, robot tech researchers…you name it, Saeger’s computer geeks could build it.  And they’d build it first and build it better. 

Creek scowled at the men he had previously considered his friends.  Tonight, however, they were the enemy.  “Don’t you guys have something better to do?” he grumbled. 

“Better than watch you crash and burn?” Tucker asked.  “Not a thing.”  Saeger and Knox both nodded their heads in agreement.

The four men were so similar that Creek wanted them gone.  All four of them were tall with dark hair; although Knox’s was black while the others had just dark hair.  In fact, everything about Knox was dark, including his mood most of the time.  He shaved perhaps once a week, the rest of the time, he growled and grumbled like an angry bear.  Tucker, Saeger and Creek all knew that he wasn’t a man to mess with, although they poked the bear anytime they could. 

“It’s a slow night in town.  Not much to do but come here and watch you fail.” 

Creek rolled his eyes but looked down the bar, making sure everyone’s drink was full. 

“Maybe she might just like a different kind of man,” Saeger commented.  “She was cute.  Maybe…”

Creek’s whole body tensed with a fury unlike anything he’d ever felt before.  “Stay away from her,” he growled, his hands fisted at his sides. 

Saeger held his hands up in the air, his eyes still teasing.  “Message received, loud and clear.”

Tucker laughed.  “Not necessarily accepted though,” and he swallowed another gulp of beer.

Knox only chuckled again. 

Creek knew that these men wouldn’t step into his territory.  They respected each other’s turf and never intervened.  But that didn’t ease the fury he felt even though, rationally, he knew that his friends were only teasing.  “Stay away from Violet,” he warned again. 

The men backed off after that, moving on to other topics while Creek worked the bar.  The blond eventually gave up, recognizing that Creek wasn’t interested and the night continued until last call. 

And the whole night, Creek looked at the door, willing the beautiful brunette to stop back in after dropping off her friends.  But she never showed up. 

After shutting down the bar and ensuring that the other wait staff got home safely, he drove up the steep road to his private mountain retreat.  He and the three others had come to Alaska to get away from the world.  They’d built up their empires, working round the clock at times.  And eventually, each of them had retreated, coming to Alaska and finding their private mountains.  Each for different reasons. 

Creek stood outside of the small, colorful store and cursed under his breath.  Not for the first time did he wonder what the hell he was doing here.  But since he was here, he might as well go inside. 

There was absolutely no excuse for him to enter this store.  So if she wasn’t interested, he was going to fall flat, just like the guys had said the other night.  He’d gotten mixed signals from the timid beauty that night.  One moment, he was sure that she was feeling the intense attraction that he was sensing, and the next, she looked confused, almost angry.  And that last glance…she’d appeared almost sad.  She’d been surrounded by friends who all looked like they were having a great time, but she’d appeared so out of place. 

So what was he doing here?  She’d walked out of The Rotten Apple three nights ago without a second glance in his direction.  He’d tried to flirt with her, but she’d pulled away from him. 

He’d seen something in her eyes, the way she held her breath whenever he was close.  Had he only been imagining those reactions? 

But hell, no guts, no glory.  He wanted this woman and he suspected he was going to have to…he grimaced at the very thought…”date” her.  He was used to women who knew the score, who wanted exactly what he wanted; a simple night of satisfying, no strings attached sex. 

He suspected that Violet would be different.  She seemed different.  And as he stepped into the small shop, he was sort of anticipating the idea of an old-fashioned woman.  His body was definitely anticipating seeing her again.

Unfortunately, his prey wasn’t behind the counter.  The human being that stood behind the counter looked nothing like his shy, petite beauty from the night before.  Definitely not!  The person almost growling at him was not the slender beauty who had knocked him sideways the other night at The Rotten Apple.  It was a barrel-chested man with a full beard and a somewhat messy flannel shirt that had definitely seen better days. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice brusque as he finished chomping on whatever he’d quickly hidden underneath the shop’s counter.  The guilty way the man was looking across the store made Creek instantly assume that the man had been imbibing something illegal.  But the fishy scent that Creek smelled a moment later made him think it was only a tuna fish sandwich. Nothing wrong with that, he supposed. 

Creek felt the man sizing him up instantly.  This man knew the score, Creek thought.  He was a product of the street and recognized a kindred soul.  Creek had grown up on the street, taught himself to read, and put himself through college.  He’d built an enormous empire by applying his street knowledge to the wimps on Wall Street who considered themselves sharks.  They grew up pampered, attending private schools, and having mommy and daddy rescue them from their problems. 

Creek had bought a mountain in Alaska to get away from those types.  His mountain allowed him to get away from all the crap that was flung around in the stuffy corporate offices but, with technology and his private plane, he maintained control of his global empire. 

So what the hell was he doing standing here, looking for an innocent goddess who should stay as far away from men like him as possible? 

He’d tried to stay away.  Damn, he’d actually flown over to Paris to take care of some business at one of his companies, just to try and get her out of his mind.  But when he’d visited his French lover and felt nothing for her, he knew that he had to get back here and find his goddess. 

His plan was to find her, work her out of his system and get his life back under control.  Simple plan, he told himself. He was good at plans.  He never failed as soon as his agile mind had created a plan. 

So where the hell was his woman?  In order for his plan to work, she had to be here. 

“I’m looking for Violet,” he announced to the man behind the counter.  “I thought she owned this shop.”  Creek knew that she owned it.  He’d done his research.  Never enter into a battle without information, he’d learned.  Some people thought that money was what gave people power.  They were wrong.  Information was the key to success. 

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly as Creek walked further into the brightly lit store.  “She’s not here.  What can I do for you?” he growled, leaning his hands on the counter as if challenging Creek to a battle if the next statement came out wrong.

Creek understood the body language.  “You’re her stepfather?” Creek asked, guessing correctly.  He’d discovered that Violet’s father had passed away when she was young and her mother had remarried several years before succumbing to cancer. 

“What’s it to you?” the man challenged.

Creek wasn’t taking the bait.  “I’m just here to…”

The door opening interrupted his words and a gust of cool wind hit him in the back.  Spring had not yet come to the small towns of Alaska and wouldn’t for a while.  There might be daffodils and tulips blooming in “the lower forty-eight”, but there was still snow on the ground here in the icy state. 

“Goodness!” his goddess gushed, as she hauled in what looked to be a heavy box. 

Creek immediately grabbed the box that was slipping out of her hands and easily lifted it into his arms. 

“Oh!” she gasped and straightened.  And then she said it again.  “Oh!” when she realized who was standing in front of her.

It was him!  The man from the bar!  Oh my, she thought as she took in his amazing magnificence.  She’d forgotten how tall and muscular the man was.  That impact was magnified by his leather jacket that covered his broad shoulders, making them look even more dangerous than they had the other day.  She hadn’t thought that this man could be more enticing, but she’d been wrong.  Dead wrong! 

Violet pulled her eyes away from his rough jaw that already was sporting a five o’clock shadow.  She suspected that the effect wasn’t from those razors that didn’t cut too close but was because the man was just naturally…raw. 

Every sense in her body was leaping with excitement as the man’s spicy scent filled her nose, wreaked havoc with her sense of right and wrong.  Violet instinctively knew that the man was wrong, but he smelled so incredibly right. 

Okay, so he didn’t look very “right” as he stood in her store, surrounded by delicate, handmade crafts.  He reminded her of a giant grizzly bear walking through a field of flowers.  The man was danger and raw sexuality while her store sported dream catchers, pretty hand carved items and artsy, hand-blown glass. 

Three nights ago, she’d walked out of The Rotten Apple, determined to put him out of her mind.  He wasn’t the man for her.  The blond bombshell was the woman he wanted in his bed. 

To further her campaign to forget this man, she’d told herself that he was wrong for her.  She needed a man who was refined and intellectual.  She’d tried hard to convince herself that she preferred the more refined gentlemen. 

But when she was honest with herself, she knew that this man, with all of his rough edges and sexy charm, his biker-dude outfit and off-hand gallantry, were more enticing than the best chocolate.  He was danger when she should want safety.  He was power when she should be craving an equal partner for her life. 

All of that was true, but she still couldn’t pull her eyes away from this man as he stared down at her, a silly, giddy feeling seeping into her mind. 

And then she realized that he was holding the heavy box.  “Oh!  I’m sorry,” she gasped, and tried to take the box back.  “I shouldn’t….”

“Where do you need this?” he asked, keeping it in his hands. 

Violet bit her lip and looked around.  Where did she need it?  Box?  Um… “Storage area!” she finally exclaimed, relieved when her mind started to function again.  “Yes.  The storage area!”

Violet smiled, excited that she’d remembered what was in the box and that it should go onto the shelves to be stored for the summer rush of tourists.  She actually sighed in relief after figuring that out then continued to stare up at him. 

After a long pause, Creek lifted his eyebrows.  “And your storage area is where?” he prompted.

Violet closed her eyes, feeling like a fool.  Again! 

She spun around on her heel and, shaking her head, led the way behind the counter.  “It’s here,” she told him and pulled the door open, showing him the empty space on the storage shelf she’d cleared out earlier this morning, knowing that she’d need more space for the box. 

Creek looked around, realized that there was an entire area back here with three workers industriously wrapping boxes in brown wrapping paper, slapping mailing labels on each, and bringing them to an area where the mail carrier would obviously pick them up for shipment.  “What’s all this?” he asked.

Violet looked around with pride.  “This is where the online business works,” she told him.  “I set up a website two years ago to try and move merchandise during the winter months.”  She looked up at him.  “It was a slow winter, and I had nothing to do, a website seemed like a good idea.  The merchandise took off.  I was able to hire a marketing firm last year and that really helped boost sales.”

“Where do you get all of your product?” he asked, his business mind kicking into overdrive.  There wasn’t a great deal of industry in the smaller towns of Alaska besides the oil, tourist and salmon industries, but the last two were seasonal and generally not as profitable. 

Creek was distracted when she stuffed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.  Was she trying to bring his attention to her adorable bottom?  Looking into her eyes, he dismissed the idea as ridiculous.  She was fresh and glorious, but not conniving.  He also suspected that he was way too cynical for her, but he wasn’t leaving.  He’d tried to stay away and failed.  Now he had a plan. 

“There are so many local craftspeople in the area.  It was just a matter of convincing them to give me their products as consignment merchandise.  It turned into a win-win proposition.  They made more money than the other tourist traps were willing to pay them and I encouraged them to move away from the kitschy wooden salmon and bears.  We now have a good selection of one-of-a-kind items that sell pretty well.”

Creek looked around again and nodded.  Her merchandise was quirky and interesting, exactly the kind of thing all of the expensive decorators were looking for to fill the affluent homes across the country.  “Looks like you’ve done a good job of building up your business while retaining the essence of Alaska.  I’m impressed.” 

“Thank you,” she murmured, and there was that adorable blush again. 

Turning away from the workers that seemed to be laughing and joking with each other while they wrapped box after box, he looked down into her pretty blue eyes.  “Have dinner with me tonight,” he commanded, watching her carefully.  If she wasn’t interested, he’d walk away and get her out of his mind.  But if there was even the smallest possibility…

Her fingers moved from her back pockets to her front pockets, then back again nervously.  “Dinner?”

Bingo, he thought.  She felt it too.  She wanted him, but was probably too nervous to admit it.  He’d take it slowly, ease her into a relationship.  He wasn’t here for the long haul, but there was no reason they couldn’t have a steamy affair, warm up the cold, winter months a bit, and enjoy each other’s company. 

He smiled slightly when her fingers slipped into her belt loops.  The pockets must not be working well enough for her, he thought with amusement.  “It’s the last meal of the day,” he teased.  “Usually has meat, a salad.  A good bottle of wine.”

Violet laughed and looked down at her shoes again.  “It sounds lovely,” she told him, then lifted her head, smiling up at him.  “I’d love it.” 

“Tonight?  Seven o’clock?”

She nodded her head.  “Where should I meet you?”

He tried to hide his surprise at that question.  “I’ll pick you up,” he told her, angry for some reason that her previous dates obviously hadn’t treated her with the respect she deserved.  A lady should be picked up at her door, damn it!  No way was she going to drive to whatever restaurant and meet him there.  Hell no!

“Seven o’clock,” she repeated, nodding her head. 

“I’ll see you then,” he told her, and touched her arm lightly.  He wanted to bend down and kiss her, feel her soft lips and taste her honey, but he suspected that would be moving too fast.  But he had to touch her, even briefly.  He needed some contact with this woman.  The light touch on her arm, and then he pulled back, was all he would allow himself. 

For now. 

He walked out of the shop, picked up his motorcycle helmet and leather gloves, put both on and then threw his leg over the bike.  With one last look inside the shop, he nodded to her before he flipped the visor down on his helmet.  With a swift kick to the starter, he sped off down the street, eagerly anticipating a night with a beautiful woman. 

Thirty minutes later, he walked into The Rotten Apple, unaware of the way the other two men were watching him curiously. 

“What’s up with you?” Tucker asked as he leaned back in the wooden chair. 

Saeger Rollins smirked.  “He found a new woman.”

Tucker chuckled.  “A woman isn’t cause for that kind of spring in his step.”

Saeger shrugged his shoulder.  “He must have found his little butterfly from the other night.”

Knox would have added his two cents into the fray, but he was out of the country on business, checking out another company he might invest in.