He’d been accused of many things in his lifetime, mostly from opposition on deals they’d lost. None of the barbs or insults he’d had to put up with in the past came close to affecting him as much as this woman’s inference that he was here to rip her world apart.
“I’m not taking sides. I’m doing my job.”
He spoke the truth so why did it sound so lame?
She started to walk away and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Whatever lets you sleep at night.”
He strode after her, grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him. “Look, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
What was he doing, co-operating with the little league when he’d come here to play hard ball?
She leaned into him and for one, irrational minute, he thought she might kiss him. “There is something you can do for me.”
He inhaled, savouring the sandalwood fragrance that drifted from her nearness. He’d smelled something similar earlier, thinking it had been the incense burning in the corner of the tent. Instead, her scent wrapped around him like an ancient spell, one he couldn’t resist.
“What is it?”
He refrained from saying he’d do anything for her. In fact, he would walk over hot coals for another taste of her delicious mouth.
She stared directly at him, that already-too-familiar fire flashing in her eyes. “Get lost.”
In an instant, she’d wrenched her arm free of his grip and stalked away, head held high.
He willed her to look back but she didn’t. Too bad. He wanted her to see his smug grin.
If there was one thing he loved more than making money, it was a challenge and the feisty Amber Lawrence had waved a red cape, leaving him pawing the ground in frustration and ready to charge.
Two
Amber believed in karma. If you treated others badly, it would come back to you tenfold. Now, after the way she’d spoken to Steve Rockwell earlier, she had her comeuppance.
“Are you sure you can’t make the meeting, Dad?” She tugged at the hem of her skirt, feeling more than a tad self-conscious in the mini cocktail dress.
“I’m sorry, love. If I go out, this headache is sure to turn into a full-blown migraine. Besides, you can handle it. You’re my right-hand woman.” He winked at her, though it turned into a wince as he lay back on the bed and rubbed his temples.
“I know, but you’re the one who needs to make the final decision.” The skirt wouldn’t co-operate and rode half way up her thighs as soon as she stopped tugging it down. It had been too long since she’d bought any clothes, not that it usually mattered. However, with a meeting this important, she wanted to look her best and unfortunately, the three year old dress had seen better days.
“Just listen to what he has to say,” her dad continued. “You don’t need to agree to anything immediately. We’ll discuss it in the morning, okay?”
Guilt flooded her as he closed his eyes. Why was she making such a big deal out of a meeting she could handle with one hand tied behind her back?
Because it wasn’t so much the dinner meeting her dad had scheduled that was the problem but the man she had to share the meal with.
“Besides, Mr. Rockwell sounded quite reasonable over the phone. I’m sure you two will get along just fine.”
She leaned down and kissed her dad on the cheek, hoping he was right. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll let you know how it went in the morning. And don’t forget, ring me if you need me.”
He waved her away. “Stop fussing. I just need to sleep.”
As she looked down upon her father’s weary face as he drifted off to sleep, her heart swelled with love. He’d given her the best life possible, nurturing and protecting her throughout the vulnerable teenage years after her mum had passed away. She couldn’t have wished for a better father and the least she could do was put up with an obnoxious lawyer for one evening.
She tiptoed from the room and wondered where the meeting would take place. She hadn’t eaten out for ages, not since her last date six months ago. There hadn’t been much time for dating lately, with all her attention focussed on saving the business.
A loud knock on the door set her nerves jumping. Checking her reflection in the mirror one last time, she wished she’d done more with her face. She didn’t wear much make-up as a rule and the lack of cosmetics made her look too young. Tonight, she needed a mask of confidence.
She fixed a welcoming smile on her face and opened the door. “Hello.”
She couldn’t think of anything else to say, especially when the last words she’d uttered to Steve Rockwell were ‘get lost’. To make matters worse, he looked amazing, clad in black dress pants and a white shirt unbuttoned at the neck. Casual yet smart and combined with his lethal looks, way too dangerous for her.
“Ready to go?” His gaze swept her from head to foot and she had a sudden urge to slam the door in his face and dive under a duvet, especially when he focussed on her legs.
“Sure.”
That was one way to impress him, blind him with riveting conversation. She gnawed at her bottom lip, wishing she could think of something to say and followed him to the carnival’s entrance where people queued for the evening’s performance. Unfortunately, the paltry line would barely pay the overheads in staging the horse show. Yet another nail in the carnival’s coffin.
“I’ve hired a car for a couple of days. It’s this way.”
