Unbreak My Heart (3 page)

For just a moment, I froze. Was I truly ready for this?

Don’t be a pussy. You’re a fucking soldier. You’ve dodged sniper fire and IEDs. This? This is cake.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my khakis before I strode to the receptionist’s desk. I bestowed my most charming smile on her. “I’m here to see Sierra McKay.”

T
uesday was my
busiest day of the week.

I’d been scrambling to catch up after my absence. I’d gone to Sundance to see Marin, my BFF from high school, and meet her new baby boy. And have a heart to heart with my father about my place in the company. But because I’d gotten sick I hadn’t seen Marin or her sweet baby. And I hadn’t had that talk with my dad, either.

Mostly because I’d chickened out. Again.

In addition to my tasks at Daniels Property Management today, I had a presentation to prep for next week for PCE—Phoenix Collegiate Entrepreneurs—a woman’s business group we organized at ASU when we realized there weren’t any support groups for our demographic: women starting home-based businesses or women in jobs where their colleagues were predominantly male. Ten business admin students, all female, all who’d had some level of success in starting a business, had banded together and pooled our knowledge so we could help each other. Within six months our group had fifty members and a dozen women in the community who’d volunteered as mentors.

Being a founding member of the group was one of the things I was most proud of. I still spent a considerable amount of time volunteering for PCE because creating a better business environment for women remained my passion.

I just wished I could do that here; reignite the passion I’d brought to this job. I couldn’t blame my restlessness on a lousy salary. Or limited opportunities for advancement. Although I was Gavin Daniels’ only heir, I’d insisted on an entry-level position at DPM. I could’ve gone to work for several other companies after graduating from college—I’d been heavily recruited due to my impressive resume, my work founding PCE, my GPA and the connection to my father. But since I’d indicated an interest in taking over both Daniels Development Group and Daniels Property Management when Dad retired, I figured I had at least a dozen years to learn how to run everything. Since I’d spent more time at DDG over the years, I wanted to understand DPM from the ground up.

That didn’t mean I was a third-generation slacker with entitlement issues and zero work ethic. During college I’d worked as my father’s virtual intern. No pay but what I’d learned had been invaluable.

There’d been resentment after I’d officially been hired at DPM. Management passed off the lowest-priority clients to me. I had bigger goals for myself than being a glorified landlord. So I convinced those clients to let me implement my ideas for total automation. Everything from direct deposit for rent collection to vetting potential service providers. Since DPM had a decent profit margin with the management fees we charged, when I cut new deals with the vendors on behalf of my clients, I passed the savings on to them.

When other DPM clients got wind of the changes…they demanded the same type of deals. Which was exactly what I’d banked on. So my first year as a glorified landlord I’d completely revamped the entire DPM payment system.

Color the CEO impressed. But he’d also been agitated that none of his long-time managers had attempted to modernize an outdated business model. So he’d rewarded me for my innovative thinking by granting me a promotion—a big promotion—from entry level to upper management.

That’s when the nastiness really kicked in; the implication that I hadn’t earned the promotion. My father was a brilliant businessman and the smartest guy in any room and thankfully I’d inherited some of his business acumen. But I’d risen up the ranks on my own merits. I’d put up the amount of hours I’d worked against anyone else’s.

Another fun aspect of the job in addition to the assumed nepotism was the sexism and the ageism. Men I’d known for years were patronizing and condescending when they dealt with me. How could I possibly know anything about real business? The ink on my diploma was fresh. I had tits, not balls. What really rankled were the smug remarks about having Daddy fight my battles. No wonder my enthusiasm had cooled.

Two raps sounded on my office door, then Nikki poked her head in. “Your eleven thirty is here.”

I frowned at my assistant. “Marty is early?”

“It’s not Marty. I assumed you forgot to enter in this appointment.” She sent another quick glance over her shoulder. “You want me to send him packing?”

“No. Show him in.” I printed out my questions for Marty. I planned to pick his brain about what to look for when hiring a headhunting firm. PCE had reached the stage where it needed a full-time paid administrator.

From the doorway I heard, “A corner office already?”

That voice. For years it’d haunted me, a deep rasp that couldn’t possibly be as sexy and compelling as I’d remembered.

I went utterly still behind my computer screen.

What the hell was
he
doing here?

A snarky inner voice said:
He told you he’d track you down.

An equally bitchy voice retorted:
So? He told me many things and never followed through with any of them.

“I’m impressed, McKay.”

And then Boone West sauntered through my door as if he had every right to be here.

I might’ve ordered him out, if I hadn’t been so busy drinking him in. I’d been too feverish in Sundance to mentally catalog the similarities and differences in Old Boone and this Second Edition Boone.

Old Boone had shuffled along, shoulders slumped, chin tucked down, hair obscuring his face.

Second Edition Boone had that military swagger: chin up, direct eye contact, super-sized body on full alert.

He’d filled out, becoming taller and broader. The extra height and weight looked good on him. Before, he’d worn his dark hair a little too long; it’d constantly flopped in his face. Now he sported a military cut. The shorter style accentuated the perfection of his face: the high cheekbones, the wide jaw, the broad forehead, those soulful brown eyes that sucked me in.

Boone West was still the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

Snap out of it. You aren’t a dreamy-eyed girl. You are a busy, professional woman and he does not have an appointment or the right to waste your time.

I forced my gaze to Nikki, who was openly gawking at Boone’s ass.

She offered me a
sorry
-
not-sorry
smirk. “Buzz me if you need anything.”

“You can leave the door open, Nikki. He’s leaving. Immediately.”

“No,
Hi, Boone, how are you today?
No,
I’m sorry I ditched your calls when I was in Wyoming because I pulled a muscle in my phone-dialing finger?
Just,
He’s leaving. Immediately?”

My mouth dropped open. “You
remember
that conversation?”

“I remember everything that happened between us, Sierra. Everything.”

“Then you’ll remember why I have nothing to say to you and why I’m telling you to get out of my office.”

Boone shook his head at me. “I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”

Pushy bastard. “How about I give you what you deserve instead?”

“Which is what?”

“A swift kick in the balls.”

He grinned. “Luckily I wore a cup. Just in case.”

“Bully for you. Go away, Boone.”

“Nope. We have unfinished business.”

“Wrong. We were
finished
the moment you got on your bike and left me and the state of Wyoming behind. Since seven years have gone by, we’re past the legally recognized statute of limitations for immoral acts and criminal behavior—not that being a selfish, lying asshat is against the law. So if it’ll speed things up and send you on your way, I’ll accept your apology even when it’s years late.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not here to apologize.”

“Of course you’re not.” I pointed to the door. “Please let it hit you in the ass on your way out.” I returned my focus to my monitor, dismissing him completely.

Five seconds later he slapped his big hands on my desk.

I jumped.

Boone peered over the edge of my computer screen. “Your reflexes are good. So how are you feeling? Any lingering issues from the strep virus?”

“You came all the way to Phoenix for a house call?”

“Not hardly.”

“Then why are you here? I doubt the army just lets you flit around from place to place whenever the mood strikes you.”
Dammit. You were supposed to act uninterested.

He smirked because he knew he’d hooked me. “I’m glad you asked. I’m here on leave for two weeks. I intended to tell you in Wyoming that I was already scheduled to be in Phoenix directly after my stint in Sundance.”

Do not react
. “And this affects me…how?”

Boone’s intense gaze encompassed my entire face. “Us being in the same place, at the same time isn’t a coincidence, Sierra.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it isn’t. It’s fate.”

My stomach cartwheeled.

“You knew it. That’s why you ran from me in Wyoming.”

“I didn’t run. I drove.”

He shrugged. “And yet, no matter how we got here, we
are
both here.”

Do not get sucked into this conversation.

Awkward silence distorted the air.

Boone stepped back and sat in the chair across from my desk.

“By all means, make yourself comfortable.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I know. I’m ignoring it because you don’t really want me to leave.”

In my head I said,
Omigod, cocky much? Get out or I’m calling security
. But I would not give him the satisfaction of an emotional outburst. Instead, I said, “You are mistaken if you think I have nothing better to do than entertain you. I have another appointment—”

“I’m sure you do. You’re the big executive now. Kyler was telling me about it last night.”

That little traitor. And what did Kyler know about my executive status anyhow? He usually introduced me as “my cousin who’s in real estate,” like my job was showing residential properties.

“Surprised?” Boone prompted.

“That you’ve already been in touch with
my
cousin?”

“I’m staying with him and the guys a few nights.”

The “guys” meaning my other cousins, Anton and Hayden.

He raised an eyebrow. “That sounded a little possessive. Ky’s my cousin too, McKay.”

“Like you have to remind me, West.”

Boone sank back in the chair as if settling in for a good, long chat. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Ky, Hayden and Anton. It’s weird that they’re these big, grown guys and not the skinny runts I remembered. Anyway, we were talking last night and I mentioned I was coming here today. Hayden said something like ‘your cousin is my cousin but that don’t make us cousins’ which sounded wrong coming from him because he always talked like he was reading from a textbook, even when he was annoying the hell out of us on the bus. Which reminded me about the first time
we
met on the bus. I saw you talking to Ky and thought, it figures the gorgeous new girl in town is a relative. I was so relieved to find out that
we
weren’t related at all. Then Ky made a crack about kissing cousins—”

“Whatever you’re trying to do, Boone…stop.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do? Besides reminding you that it wasn’t all bad between us?”

His agitation that I’d interrupted him allowed me to remain cool. “I think you’re beating a dead horse.”

Boone quirked an eyebrow at me. “That’s a little folksy coming from you.”

“You want it in plain terms? Fine. I have no desire to reminisce with you.” I paused. “Ever.”

“Bull. I know you, Sierra.”

“No, you don’t. Not anymore.”

And that played perfectly into his hands. He bestowed that dazzling smile on me. “Then give me a chance to get to know you. Starting over would be best for us anyway.”

I caught sight of Marty in the open doorway. Talk about perfect timing. “Not today. My scheduled appointment is here.”

Boone banked his irritation at my brush-off and rose to his feet. After sparing Marty a quick glance, he returned that laser focus to me as I stepped around the desk.

Today I’d worn my favorite power suit: a pencil skirt the color of black cherries I’d paired with a cream-colored sleeveless shirt with a swoopy drape of fabric that allowed a hint of cleavage. My black heels were 1950s-style peep-toe pumps with white stitching and dotted with tiny cherries the same color as my skirt. I rocked this outfit and always felt a boost of confidence wearing it.

When our eyes met again, Boone didn’t hide the fact I’d wowed him.

Eat your heart out, fucker.
“See you around, West.”

His eyes narrowed. He moved in and brushed his right cheek across mine until his lips met my ear. “You aren’t shaking me off that easy.”

“I can try.”

Boone’s soft laughter burrowed into my ear and sent vibrations throughout my entire body. “Fair warning. I’m more stubborn than you. I’m that burr you can’t shake off until I get completely under your skin. I’ve got nothing but time to convince you we need to talk so we can fix this between us.” He retreated and offered Marty a “Hey” and a chin lift before he strolled away.