Tycoon For Auction
Katherine Garbera
To-die-for executive Rand Pearson's time on the auction block was well spent, according to high bidder Corrine Martin.She needed an escort for company functions - no strings attached. This emotionally scarred woman had no time for men - even extremely wealthy and gorgeous ones - and never expected desire to waylay her best-laid plans. But then she felt Rand's lips on hers, his fervent hands on her body.Suddenly business took a back seat to fiery seduction. To Rand, Corrine was the only bright spot in a life darkened by a terrible secret. She'd agreed to an affair, but he wanted so much more. Could he persuade her to promote her "temp" to a permanent, lifelong position?
Corrine Martin Was Dangerous.
Rand emerged from the washroom to find her waiting. He didn’t know why she made him react the way she did, only that she did. And he didn’t like it. He wanted to blast through her icy exterior and make her the vulnerable one, not him—never again.
If she were a different kind of woman, he would take her. But there was no way he’d be able to remain uninvolved with her. Already the tension was intensifying, making him shake with a weakness he refused to acknowledge.
“Hi,” she said softly.
Her voice brushed over him, making him feel heavy and lethargic. His groin tightened, and he could only nod at her. He was used to playing and winning, even with women. Winning made him feel in control and sure of himself. But there was a vulnerability in Corrine’s eyes that warned this wasn’t a game. Or at least not one that would leave behind a victor….
Dear Reader,
Spring into the new season with six fresh passionate, powerful and provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire.
Experience first love with a young nurse and the arrogant surgeon who stole her innocence, in USA TODAY bestselling author Elizabeth Bevarly’s Taming the Beastly MD (#1501), the latest title in the riveting DYNASTIES: THE BARONES continuity series. Another USA TODAY bestselling author, Cait London, offers a second title in her HEARTBREAKERS miniseries—Instinctive Male (#1502) is the story of a vulnerable heiress who finds love in the arms of an autocratic tycoon.
And don’t miss RITA
Award winner Marie Ferrarella’s A Bachelor and a Baby (#1503), the second book of Silhouette’s crossline series THE MOM SQUAD, featuring single mothers who find true love. In Tycoon for Auction (#1504) by Katherine Garbera, a lady executive wins the services of a commitment-shy bachelor. A playboy falls in love with his secretary in Billionaire Boss (#1505) by Meagan McKinney, the latest MATCHED IN MONTANA title. And a Native American hero’s fling with a summer-school teacher produces unexpected complications in Warrior in Her Bed (#1506) by Cathleen Galitz.
This April, shower yourself with all six of these moving and sensual new love stories from Silhouette Desire.
Enjoy!
Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
Tycoon for Auction
Katherine Garbera
KATHERINE GARBERA
lives near Chicago with the man she met in Fantasyland and their two kids. She started writing to prove to herself that she could do it and found herself addicted to it. Creating worlds where everyday people find love and balance it with already full lives appeals to her. She loves revisiting the places that have influenced her and has once again returned to Orlando, which is an especially fond place for the native Floridian. Readers can visit her home page on the Web at www.katherinegarbera.com.
This book is dedicated to Mavis Allen, for her insight and her laughter.
It’s a real pleasure to be working with you!
Acknowledgments
This book is a different direction for me, and I have to thank many people for the opportunity to try it. Joan Marlow Golan and Mavis Allen, who pointed out my first version of the hero was a little weak and then encouraged me to try something new.
Teresa Brown, Pam Labud and Catherine Kean, who helped with every Orlando question I had. Any mistakes are my own. Eve Gaddy, who spent endless hours on the phone with me talking about this story and how to make it stronger, plus just offering her support—the words thank you really aren’t enough! And thanks to Nancy Thompson, who double-checked some facts on Orlando for me. I wish we could still meet for lunch at Dexters!
As always, thanks to my family for their love and support, without which I’d probably accomplish nothing.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
One
Lust wasn’t something Corrine Martin was comfortable admitting she experienced. It didn’t fit with the image she’d carefully cultivated—cool sophistication from the top of her blond head to the toes exposed by her slinky gold sandals. She’d done a good job of ignoring the surging feelings and the man who inspired them—until tonight.
Maybe it was something in his wizard-green eyes. Or maybe it was just that she was tired of having him stare through her as if she wasn’t there. Whatever the reason, tonight she’d thrown caution to the wind and had purchased Rand Pearson for three corporate dates.
Of course, she’d only bid on his services as a corporate spouse. She even had an airtight excuse for doing it. She needed an escort to the upcoming business meetings she’d be expected to attend.
The ballroom at the Walt Disney Dolphin Hotel had been transformed into an old-fashioned buy-a-bride auction. All the money raised tonight would go to the Collation for the Homeless, an Orlando-based charity that fed and sheltered the homeless. This was Corrine’s first year attending. She’d bid on and won the services of Rand Pearson.
Though they’d been working together for the last five months on a training project, she really didn’t know him. He’d been one of only three men on the auctioning block representing the company he was a partner in—Corporate Spouses. The company provided business-etiquette lessons as well as dates for executives for business functions.
Corrine’s boss, Paul Sterling, the CEO of Tarron Enterprises, had won a similar package the year before. Corrine had been Paul’s secretary until his promotion to CEO when Paul had promoted her to a midlevel manager. Corrine loved the challenge her new role provided.
But she needed to show her boss that she wasn’t in danger of becoming one-dimensional and focused only on her job as a middle manager at Tarron Enterprises. And on a more personal level she needed to remind herself that she was still a woman.
Rand Pearson made her feel dangerous and alive. She didn’t like it, but she knew she needed to deal with it and get her life back on track. She had her eye on the vacant vice president position and knew that she’d need to be focused one hundred percent at work.
“Dance with me, Corrine?” Rand asked, coming up to her. His tuxedo was obviously custom-made, making him look like royalty, which, if gossip was true, he’d descended from.
“Why?” she asked. She’d never had any finesse when it came to men. They made her nervous. Probably because of her experiences in foster care during her teen years.
“When a man asks you to dance, Cori, yes or no is the appropriate answer,” he said, with that gleam in his eyes that made her want to do something shocking. Which was how she’d ended up bidding on him.
She sighed and reminded herself that she was known as the ice queen for a very good reason. Life was safer that way. “My name is Corrine. And I know that.”
“Do you?” He slid closer to her in the crowded ballroom. His hand glided up her arm—her bare arm. Why had she listened to Angelica Leone-Sterling, her friend and boss’s wife, and purchased this strapless dress? It wasn’t her, and it made her feel like someone she knew she couldn’t be.
His palm was rough and rasped her skin. Tingles spread up her arm and across her chest, making her nipples tighten against the lace of her strapless bra. She shivered and stepped away from his disturbing touch. He arched one eyebrow but made no comment.
“Yes,” she said at last, knowing only that she needed to do something to take control of the situation before she forgot about her plans. Rand was a stepping-stone to the next level, she reminded herself.
“Shall we dance?” he asked again.
She nodded. His cologne—a spicy, masculine scent—surrounded her as they stepped onto the dance floor and he pulled her into his arms. I’m in charge.
But as his arms came around her and he settled her close against his chest, she didn’t feel like she was in charge. She didn’t want to be. Delicious sensations spread out from the hand he’d placed on the small of her back, radiating throughout her body and making her blood flow heavily through her veins.
She shuddered and tried to break the spell his touch was weaving by looking at him. But his eyes held a lambent gaze that pulled her further under his spell. The slow, sensual sounds of a jazz saxophone filled the room, and then the trio’s lead singer, a tall black woman with a sultry voice, began to sing about wishing on a star.
Corrine had spent her entire childhood wishing for something that had never come. She thought she’d grown beyond that, but the temptation to rest her cheek on Rand’s shoulder was strong and she knew she’d made a mistake. She had to get away.
She tugged free of Rand’s grasp and hurried off the dance floor. What was with her tonight?
She headed for the bar and ordered a Stoli straight. She needed something to shock her back to her senses. Maybe she could blame this funky mood on the fact that her closest female friend, Angelica Leone-Sterling, had just announced she was pregnant.
Corrine knew she’d never have children. She wasn’t ever going to do something as dicey as bring a child into this chaotic world. This world where nothing lasted forever and death came quickly and swiftly, taking no notice of those left behind.
Damn, she was getting maudlin. Maybe she shouldn’t be drinking. But before she could rescind her drink order, she sensed Rand behind her.
“Make that two,” he said to the bartender.
The bartender set the drinks in front of them. Rand paid for hers before she had a chance to get her money out.
“Here’s some money for my drink,” she said when the bartender moved away.
“I see that you are going to need some etiquette lessons as well as an escort for business functions.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked. She knew she had manners. Mrs. Tanner, one of her foster mothers, had drilled manners into Corrine when she was eight years old. She didn’t think she’d ever forget those lessons.
“Because you don’t know how to say thank you. Put your money away.”
She slipped the folded bill back into her beaded handbag. When you grew up on charity it was hard to accept a handout. And Rand wasn’t her date for the night, he was a man she’d bid on. When she thought about it, maybe she should have paid for his drink. “I don’t like to take advantage of people.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
She took a sip of her drink, uncomfortable with the silence that had fallen between them. The liquid burned going down, but she didn’t flinch. Rand held his glass with a casual grace that made her feel awkward. She put her glass on a passing waiter’s tray and noticed that he did the same.
“What happened on the dance floor?” he asked at last.
She shrugged. No way was she going to tell him that he’d taken her by surprise. That the rich boy who liked to win had needled his way past the barrier she thought would keep her safe from any man. “I just didn’t feel like dancing.”
He arched one eyebrow at her again.
“That’s the most condescending thing I’ve ever seen anyone do,” she said.
“What?”
“That lord-of-the-manor eyebrow thing you do.”
He did it again. “It bothers you?”
“I just said so.”
“Good,” he said, caressing her cheek with his fingers.
“Why good?” she asked, trying to keep her mind off the shivers spreading over her body.
“Because you seem too removed from life.”
“I’m in control. Something you should appreciate.”
“I do. It’s just fun to needle you out of your comfort zone.”
“Rand, if we are going to have even a slim chance of getting along for our three ‘dates’ you are going to have to remember one thing.”
“What’s that?” he asked. Putting his hand on her elbow, he moved them out of the traffic path near the bar.
She waited until she was sure she had his attention. “I’m in charge.”
“Where did you get that idea?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I suspect it was when I wrote out the check to buy you.”
“Did you say buy me?” he asked.
“Do you have a hearing problem? I might have to trade you in.”
“You’re playing with fire, Cori.”
Why did he have to call her by that ridiculous nickname? No one had ever given her a nickname. In her first foster home they’d called her Corrine Jane. After that she’d made sure no one knew she had a middle name. When he called her Cori it was as if he was seeing inside her soul to the lonely little girl she’d been. And she didn’t like that.
“I know how to keep from getting burned,” she said carefully. Though with Rand she wasn’t sure of anything. They’d known each other casually for almost a year, and she still felt uncomfortable when she was near him.
“How?”
She looked straight into those devastating eyes of his. Why had she started this? There was no way out of this, and she knew she had to retreat now before she did something really foolish and tell him she was afraid of the fire in his eyes.
“Stay away from the fire,” she said, and turned to walk away.
“What if the fire doesn’t stay away from you?” he asked.
She pretended not to hear him and continued across the ballroom to her table. She told herself she hadn’t just issued a challenge to Rand but knew she had, and a part of her tingled in anticipation of what he’d do next.
Rand knew better than to follow her. A crazy kind of excitement buzzed through his veins. This was the first time a woman had inspired the feeling, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. The logic part of his brain said that Corrine was a woman and a client and he should leave it at that, but deeper instincts called for him to probe deeper into her psyche until she had no secrets left. Nowhere to hide from him.
He detoured by his partner’s table. Angelica Leone-Sterling had the glow typical of a newlywed. More surprising to Rand, her husband, Paul, shared that same luminescence. Though they were both involved in separate conversations, Rand noticed their joined hands on the table.
For a moment he felt a pang at the loneliness of his life. Despite having four sisters and two loving parents. It was the same feeling that had dogged him since he was sixteen and a car accident had changed his life when his twin had died. But he’d learned to live with that missing part of himself. And until tonight he hadn’t realized that he wasn’t really living with it, rather just ignoring it.
He didn’t want to examine it now. He had to settle for flirty banter instead of meaningful conversation with the opposite sex. But then he knew that everything in life was a trade-off.
He was a successful businessman. He had a trust fund most people only dreamed of. And on most days that was enough. But tonight wasn’t one of them. Tonight his personal demon was rearing its ugly head and Rand fought to keep his jovial attitude. He really wanted to escape back to his dark corner of the world and go numb until he could escape.
He never should have followed Corrine to the bar and joined her for a Stoli. He knew better than to dance with a woman he wanted so badly that her perfume seemed etched in his memory, and her scent filled his every breath.
His reactions to Corrine weren’t helping, either. He could still feel her in his arms, dammit. She’d fit perfectly, and he’d wanted to nudge her head onto his shoulder and keep her cradled there all night long.
That woman needed someone to cradle her, even though she’d never admit it. Unfortunately, he couldn’t be that someone. The vow he’d made when he was twenty-one prevented him from being any woman’s “forever” man, yet he wanted to remind Corrine Martin she was a woman. There was something in her cool gray eyes that made him want to shake her up.
She’s a client, he reminded himself. “Never let the client get personal” was his mantra, but he wasn’t behaving true to form tonight. He blamed it on the fact that he’d been conned into going on stage at this charity event when he’d sworn never to do so.
The problem was he’d never been able to resist a challenge. He wasn’t sure when it had started, but he could remember having his first broken arm at age six when his older cousin Thomas had dared him to climb a tree. At thirty-five, he should be old enough to know better, but he liked the thrill he got from riding the edge of a dare.
It was a Super Bowl wager that had led to his participation in the themed “Buy a Bride” charity auction. Though he hadn’t been the only man on the stage, it was still humiliating to participate in such an event.
Angelica looked up as he approached and smiled at him. She’d changed a lot since her second marriage last year. She was happier and more willing to take a chance. Their friendship had started with her first marriage to Rand’s best friend, Roger. He and Roger had been roommates at military school and then in college. They had been closer than brothers.
Rand approached the table and made small talk until the right moment presented itself. He wanted a few minutes alone with Angelica.
“Want to dance?” he asked her, needing to talk to her without her husband around. Also, he needed to erase the memory of Corrine Martin in his arms.
“I don’t know. Your technique must be off. I saw Corrine leave you earlier.”
Great. He’d forgotten they were in a virtual fishbowl at these events. Usually he liked the attention and the feel of eyes on him. But when he’d held Corrine in his arms he’d forgotten all about being on display and had immersed himself in the sensations she elicited in him.
What was it with these women tonight? “The answer I’m looking for is yes or no.”
She sighed. He knew she’d probe into what had happened, and he should probably leave her sitting at the table with her husband. But he needed to talk to his best friend and congratulate her on the pregnancy she’d just announced. He wanted to warn her about life and how one had to be cautious when you got close to having it all.
He’d have to be on his guard around Angelica. Watch over her at work and make sure that she stayed safe for Paul and the baby. He owed Roger that much—after all, Roger had saved his life. He felt a little more pressure tightening the back of his neck.
“Yes. I think they’re playing our song,” she said.
The band had begun to play “I’ve Got a Crush on You.” It was the song they’d danced to at her first wedding so long ago. And over the years that song had helped them survive. Rand had held Angelica while she cried to that song on the anniversary of her first wedding.
There’d never been anything sexual between them; instead, she’d become like a sister to him. Though his own sisters would describe him as cold, he and Angelica had a warm relationship. Rand knew that was because of his debt to Roger.
Roger had guarded Rand’s secret addiction and pulled him back from the edge. He owed Roger at first. Then he’d come to know and care for Angelica.
Rand knew a moment’s fear for Paul and Angelica. It seemed as if they had too much. Rand had a healthy respect for the balance of the universe and the fact that you couldn’t have it all. He prayed that Paul and Angelica would be the exception to that rule.
“Congratulations on your pregnancy,” he said as they danced around the floor. They’d been partners in Corporate Spouses for more than ten years and friends even longer. Things were getting back to normal now. The tension at the back of his neck eased.
“Thank you. I’m a little nervous about it.”
Her confession robbed him of the advice he’d been about to give. He couldn’t tell her that fate never let anyone have it all. Because Angelica already knew that.
“I’ll make sure you have everything you need, kiddo,” he said.
“Oh, Rand. Thanks, but I think that’s Paul’s job now.”
He swallowed, realizing it was true. The one woman he’d allowed himself to care about belonged to someone else now. That’s good, he thought. Really, it is.
He tried to think of something else to say when he noticed one of the Tarron vice presidents, Mark something, escorting Corrine onto the dance floor. He didn’t like how low the guy’s hands were on Corrine’s hips.
He maneuvered himself closer to the couple. Corrine’s gaze met his and she seemed to want something from him. He looked closer at Mark and realized the man was drunk. Rand knew better than anyone how too many drinks could change the world around a man.
“Kiddo, you feel like using your power as the CEO’s wife?” he asked Angelica.
“How?”
“I’m going to cut in and rescue Corrine from a man who’s had one too many.”
“I get to dance with a drunk. Boy, Rand, you sure know how to show a girl a good time.”
“As you just pointed out, that’s not my job anymore.”
“You’re right. Who is it?”
“Mark something, I think.” He turned them so Angelica could see the man.
“Mark Jameson. His wife left him on New Year’s Day—what with it being Valentine’s Day—he hasn’t been the same since then.”
“Can you handle him?”
“No problem.”
Rand spun them neatly into Mark and Corrine’s path and tapped the other man on his shoulder. “May I?”
Mark’s eyes were blurry and he looked a little confused. Angelica stepped into his arms as Rand tugged Corrine free. He heard Angelica use her most soothing voice as she took the lead in the dance and moved Mark to the edge of the dance floor.
“Thanks. I owe you one,” Corrine said.
“I think I’ll collect now,” he said, even though he knew he should be escorting her off the dance floor and then collecting his keys from the valet and heading home.
“What do you want?”
That was a loaded question. “Don’t walk away again.”
She glanced up, obviously startled. “Ego problems?”
“Do you think I’m that shallow?”
“Yes,” she said.
He laughed. There was a part of him that was shallow, and he did his best to make sure that was the only thing people saw.
“Maybe I just wanted to hold you for the three minutes or so that the song lasts.”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“It’s the truth.” God, he wished it weren’t, but his body had already decided that there was no way Corrine was going to be a hands-off client. She called to parts of him that he’d put away a long time ago. Nothing was going to be normal until he’d mussed up her cool exterior. Until he had her blond hair spread out on his pillow and was buried deep in her sweet body with her legs and arms wrapped around him.
“We have a working relationship, Rand. It can’t be anything else.”
“I’m aware of that,” he said. He’d been working with Corrine on the new training module he and Corrine were developing at Tarron.
“Why’d you bid on me tonight?” he asked. It was out of character for the woman he knew her to be. She’d given not only him but most of her co-workers the cold shoulder. She was cordial and polite, but she kept a distance between herself and others. The only person he knew who’d gotten past her barrier was Angelica. But then, Angelica had a way with people.
“You looked lonely up there.”
He stopped dancing and glanced down at her. This was the second time she’d sassed him tonight. “Are you saying pity motivated you?”
“Well…yes.”
“Darling, I seem to remember a brisk bidding before you finally won me.”
“Cling to that memory,” she said with a laugh.
He joined her, even though she was having fun at his expense. There was something warm and almost adorable in her eyes that made him want to protect her. Much the same as he’d wanted to earlier when he’d realized she was trapped on the dance floor. But he’d never been anyone’s protector except Angelica’s. And she’d been safe because Rand couldn’t really fall in love with her. And he’d been doing it to pay back a debt. Business was the one thing he’d always been good at.
He was a loner by nature and he didn’t want to get too involved with Corrine. He let his arms drop, and the music ended a second later. There was confusion in her eyes. He knew he had to get away before he gave in to the temptation to take everything she had to offer. Because the woman he’d just held had a softness that she didn’t usually let the world see.
And that softness called to everything masculine in him. Made his chest swell and his muscles flex. It made him want to defend and protect her from everyone except himself. And Rand Pearson was no woman’s hero.
He’d learned that the hard way.
He pivoted to leave.
“Is this payback?” she asked.
He stopped and took her elbow to escort her off the dance floor. He’d never forgotten his manners before. He prided himself on always being a gentleman. Something his parents had instilled in him since he’d first known the difference between boys and girls.
He stopped at the edge of the dance floor and turned to thank her for the dance. But those gray eyes of hers made the words die unsaid.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
He walked away from her, knowing that he was going to need more than the words “never let the client get personal” help him this time. Because there was something about Corrine Martin that made him want to forget rules and lessons learned in life. And he was old enough to know better.
Two
Corrine neatly managed to avoid spending time with Rand until her first official date. She’d even corresponded with him through e-mail instead of calling him. His last e-mail had been brief to the point of seeming curt, but that didn’t bother her. She regretted the impulse that had led her to bid on him and wished that she had some way to go back in time and change things. Although she knew that time travel didn’t exist, she wished she could go further back than Rand Pearson’s appearance in her life and make some huge alterations.
Today was a sunny Saturday in March, and Paul Sterling, Tarron’s CEO, was having his annual staff party on his yacht moored in West Palm Beach. It was a two-hour drive from Orlando and Rand was picking her up.
She’d suggested meeting him there, but he’d sent back a reply saying only that he’d pick her up at ten. He pulled up at five till, and as he climbed out of his car and came toward her front door she wished again she’d never bid on him. Her pulse hammered, and everything feminine in her came to life.
She didn’t have time for this. She’d wanted to have an escort to social functions because she always seemed to be the only one alone. And it made her stand out. She hated to have attention drawn to her. She liked blending in with the background.
She knew there was no way she was going to survive the two-hour drive down the coast unless she had a distraction. The doorbell rang and she glanced frantically around her neat house. Spotting her laptop in the corner she grabbed it and her leather carryall and headed for the door. Work had been her salvation since she was fourteen. She realized early that at work it didn’t matter where you came from, only how well you did the job.
She shoved her Ann Taylor sunglasses up her nose and opened the door. The classic designer appealed to Corrine. Rand was leaning negligently against the porch railing, staring out at the street. She lived on Kaley, in one of Orlando’s older sections. Her home had been built in the fifties and required lots of care, but she loved it.
“Nice neighborhood,” he said, glancing up and down the street, which wasn’t too busy this Saturday morning.
“Thanks. Ready to go?” she asked, not wanting to encourage him to be nice to her. The other night had shown her that he’d slipped between her defenses and that was something she refused to let happen again.
“What, no tour?”
“Not today. I don’t want to be late.”
“We won’t be. We’ve got five minutes to spare.”
“Traffic could be heavy. I don’t share your confidence.”
“Want to bet on it?” he asked.
She knew from Angelica that Rand would bet on anything. And he usually won. She’d never gambled in her entire life. Not even on the twice-weekly Florida lottery. She preferred the safety of investing her money over the risk of losing a dollar to a chance of becoming a millionaire. “No.”
“Scared?” His eyebrow rose behind his sunglasses.
“Of a bet with you? I don’t think so.”
“Then, why not?”
There was only way to beat this man, she thought. And that was with wit, because he was too smart and confident for his own good. “You don’t really have anything I want.”
He pulled his glasses down to the tip of his nose and regarded her over the top of the lenses. “Really?”
“Really,” she said.
“I’ll take that as a challenge.”
She pushed her glasses back on her head and gave him her haughtiest stare. The one that made people back off. “Will your swelled head fit in the car?”
“No problem. The car is a convertible. I’ll put the top down if need be.”
She laughed and closed her door, locking it behind her.
“Why are you bringing your computer?” he asked.
“I have some work I need to do. I hate to waste the time since you’re driving.”
“You can’t take one day off?” he asked.
“Sure I can. I just don’t want to.”
“Don’t you ever have any fun?” he asked, opening her door for her.
“I like working.”
She knew it was an old-fashioned gesture, and yet she liked it. He probably did it without thinking, but it made her feel good. She dropped her bags on the floor and smoothed the skirt of her sundress under her as she slid into the car. She felt the heat of his gaze on her legs as the hem slid up on her thighs.
Was he interested in her as a woman? Since he’d kept his distance after their dance she figured his attraction to her had been posturing since she’d been the one in the position of power.
He slammed the door and walked around in front of the car. He wore khaki shorts and a golf shirt and looked like an advertisement for easy living. She pulled her sunglasses back into place, then smoothed her hair along her head, searching for any strand that might have escaped the ponytail she’d pulled it into this morning. Neat and tidy, she thought.
“I like my job, too, but that doesn’t mean I don’t take time to enjoy life.”
“I’m not an unhappy person, Rand. And you’re working today.”
“I know.”
“So why shouldn’t I?”
“Never mind.”
She pulled her laptop from its case and powered it up. Rand fastened his seat belt and neatly backed out of her driveway. The traffic was heavy, but he wove through it effortlessly. She pulled up the company memo template and pretended to be composing the memo in her head, but all she could concentrate on was Rand.
His muscles flexed each time he shifted the car. She could practically smell the testosterone as he drove. And she wondered if she’d really survive if he decided to take her words as a challenge.
Because without even trying to, he was engaging her senses and distracting her from her work. She knew then that she’d never claim the other two dates she’d purchased from his company because there was no way she was going to be this close to him again after today.
Rand knew it shouldn’t matter that she was working as they drove down to West Palm Beach. Ivanna Marckey, the last client he’d provided a corporate escort for, had spent all the time to and from engagements on the phone or reading e-mail on her PDA. But for some reason it bothered him when Corrine did the same.
That wasn’t true. Not only did her actions disturb him—she did. From the tips of her hot-pink toes to her sleek blond ponytail. She seemed aloof and he wanted to bring her down to his level. He wanted to see her hot and mussed. He lowered the windows so the air circulated around them, tugging the long blond strands from her neat coiffure.
She glanced over at him. He knew he should have asked before he lowered the windows. He’d been raised with more manners than most, and this was one of the reasons why he’d left Chicago many years ago. He sometimes reacted without thinking. Something that Pearsons simply didn’t do. Especially ones who seemed to live a charmed life.
“Do you mind?” he asked at last.
She shrugged. “I guess not. I wish I’d brought a scarf.”
She turned back to her computer and started typing again. Obviously not too concerned with the wind. Or too ruffled by it.
“We’ll stop before we get to the yacht club so you can fix your hair,” he said, trying to make up for his behavior.
“Okay,” she said. Her pleasantness made him feel like a bully on the playground.
He wanted to push harder to see what it would take to get a reaction out of her. A few more miles passed, and when they got on I-95 heading south he couldn’t stand the silence anymore. It just left his mind free to wander and he’d never been that comfortable with himself. Usually he blared the radio on a heavy-metal station, but today there was an interesting distraction right next to him.
Her sundress was demure on the outside, but it was encasing a body that was his version of heaven. Long, slim limbs and generous curves above and below the waist. In his mind’s eye he could still see her white thigh from when she’d gotten into the car.
He imagined his hand sliding up that leg. He knew it would be as smooth as silk. He’d touched her arms and shoulders the night they’d danced together and his fingers still remembered her texture. The roughness of his callused hands on her soft skin. He wanted to touch her again. Now.
Sexual tension pumped through his body, making him heavy. Dammit, he needed a diversion. Too bad she was engrossed in her job.
Which he knew shouldn’t bother him, but it did. Everything male in him wanted to rise to the indirect challenge she issued by ignoring him. And that was the one thing he’d never been able to resist. So he fiddled with the radio dial until he found a classic-rock station.
Instead of something hard and raunchy, the sensuous sounds of Dave Matthews and his band singing one of their ballads. The soft, emotional lyrics didn’t help his situation as he felt the beast in him rising to the surface.
He tightened his hands on the wheel. She hadn’t even glanced at him when the music blared out of the speakers. Unable to help himself, he reached over and removed the elastic holding her hair back. She didn’t move to stop him, only glanced toward him.
“Problem?”
“You’re going to have to take it out later, anyway,” he said. Which had to be the lamest excuse in history. But there was no way he was going to tell her more.
She held her hand out palm up, and though he wanted to toss the damn elastic out the window he gave it to her. “Thanks,” she said quietly.
“For what?”
“I put vanity before comfort.”
“I don’t imagine you being vain.”
“Well, not like ego. I just like to look…well kept.”
“I’ll keep you well,” he said before he could stop himself. Damn, normally he wasn’t such a hound, but he could think of nothing but her in his arms. Her in his bed. Her…just her, and that disturbed him.
“Rand?”
“Don’t, okay?” Rand asked.
He concentrated on the road. Hardly noticed that the long, sunshine-colored strands of her hair brushed his arm every thirty seconds or so. Hardly noticed that her scent engulfed him. He wanted to bring her closer so he could breathe her in. Hardly noticed that for once a different kind of tension was pursuing him.
He felt like a big, mean bastard. He turned the radio down and concentrated on his driving, annoyed at her for ignoring him and mad at himself for reacting as if he were in junior high school.
He clicked off the radio and floored the accelerator.
“You okay?” Corrine asked.
He’d had enough of being a beast and wasn’t about to say another thing to her until they arrived at the yacht. And then he’d find a way to make sure he didn’t take her actions so personally. But she appealed to him on too many levels. “Yeah.”
She closed her laptop and put it away. “I’ve always loved the smell of the beach.”
“Me, too. One of the first times I beat my older twin brother was at beach volleyball. We played all afternoon and we kept switching off winning, and then finally I won two in a row,” he said.
“You know, I grew up in Florida but never got to go to the beach until I was in college. That trip was my shot at freedom, and I stood on the shore looking out at the endless horizon and vowed to make the most of every opportunity given to me.”
“You’ve kept that vow,” he said.
“Yes, I have.”
“Why is success so important to you?” he asked. He knew that he shouldn’t get to know her better. That knowing the woman behind the executive would only make her more tempting, but there was no way he could resist learning more about her. And the few glimpses he’d had of the real Corrine told him they weren’t well suited. There was a sadness in her eyes sometimes that made him believe she needed an average guy without the baggage he brought to any relationship.
“I’m an orphan.”
Her words didn’t make sense to him at first. He had so much family that he couldn’t imagine a life without them. And even when his five siblings weren’t around he had friends who were like family. “When did your parents die?”
“I’m pretty sure they are both still living somewhere.”
“Have you ever tried to find them?” he asked. He liked knowing he was part of the past as well as the future through his ancestry. Though he and his father had never seen eye to eye on one thing, Rand wouldn’t change his lineage. He liked knowing where he came from, and if the pressure of being a Pearson was too much to bear sometimes, that was a price Rand paid.
“No.”
“You should think about it,” he said.
“Rand, I’m never going to look for them.”
“Why not?”
“I was abandoned when I was two days old.”
Her words cut him. No one should have abandoned this woman. Why hadn’t he let her alone? “I’m sorry.”
“Why? It was a long time ago.”
He reached across the gearshift and found her hand. It was clenched in a tight fist, nails digging into the flesh of her palm. Though her words sounded as if she’d gotten over it, the truth was her emotions ran deep and strong. He pried her fingers open and slid his hand around hers. And he knew how time could lessen the pain but not totally abate it.
He said nothing else as they drove along the highway, the wind in their hair and hands tightly clasped. She didn’t speak, either, and when he pulled off the highway and had to let go to downshift, she reached for her handbag and pulled out a brush.
He knew he wouldn’t be holding her hand again or seeing any more glimpses into her soul. Because as she put up her window, and he did the same, she morphed into someone he didn’t want her to be. She smoothed her hair back into place, and she was no longer the woman he’d spoken to earlier but the corporate executive looking for her next promotion.
The party was fun in spite of being a work event. Corrine mingled through the crowd with Rand at her side. Tarron and Corporate Spouses had a strategic partnership for training—the project Rand and Corrine had been working on, so he knew many of her colleagues. As they circulated through the room, Corrine couldn’t help being aware that this was how things might be if she ever had a husband. It was a little unnerving. Finally the party wound down and everyone started to leave.
“That went well,” Corrine said as they helped tidy up after the party. Corporate Spouses had helped man the check-in table and had arranged for a caterer. Though Rand wasn’t in charge of this event, he’d still made sure everything ran smoothly. And when Paul had asked her if she’d mind helping supervise the cleanup, Rand had said he didn’t mind staying.
“Did it?” Rand asked.
He’d been distant since their conversation in the car and Corrine wasn’t sure what to make of that. There was something about telling people that your own parents thought you weren’t worth keeping that made them treat you differently. She’d revealed too much and had worked hard to keep him at arm’s length during the luncheon. She shrugged. “I guess not.”
He faced her suddenly, his green eyes intent. “It wasn’t anything spectacular.”
“Spectacular isn’t necessary for success,” she said.
“No, but it makes life more exciting.”
She watched him working and realized that he craved excitement. It clung to him like a second skin. She knew then that if she hadn’t bid on him they’d never have been intimate because they were in two totally different universes. Maybe they’d never been meant to meet. Every time she’d messed with fate it came back to haunt her. Just once she’d like to find a guy and have the kind of relationship that her peers at work seemed to take for granted.
“I like to blend in,” she said.
He came over to her. The sun streaming through the windows behind him made it impossible for her to see his features. He touched her cheek, rubbing one finger down the length of her face, resting his hand against her neck.
“I noticed,” he said.
She couldn’t think while he touched her. She knew her pulse had increased. He probably felt her racing heartbeat. Could he see inside her? Did he realize that she wanted more from him than three cold impersonal dates? She stepped back. I’m in control, she reminded herself.
She felt like she should apologize but didn’t. Quiet was who she was. “That’s not your way, is it?”
“Not really. I like to shake things up.”
“I noticed. I’m sorry I didn’t want to play in that trivia game,” Corrine stated, referring to the game many of the guests had played.
“No problem. I just thought we could win.” She knew they would have. She’d always been good at those kinds of games but never played them in public. It seemed like the only people who participated at company events were the glory hounds and those who’d had too many drinks.
She had a strict rule about alcohol and work-related functions. She thought Rand must, too, because he’d drunk cola all day like herself. Actually, she’d drunk diet, but Rand didn’t need calorie-free drinks. His body had been sculpted by years of being top dog. Of honing his body and skills until he was simply the best man in any room. Realizing an uncomfortable silence had fallen, she attempted to break the mood.
“Sometimes winning isn’t the most important thing.”
He grabbed his chest and staggered backward. “Say it isn’t so.”
Corrine chuckled. She liked his self-deprecating humor. She liked that he’d let her set the tone for their presence at the party. She just plain liked him and that was…dangerous.
“What’s wrong with him?” Paul asked from the other side of the room.
“I shocked him,” Corrine said.
“How?” Paul asked.
“I told him winning wasn’t everything,” she said with a grin.
“Oh, no.”
“Are you still weakened from the blow?” Paul asked Rand.
“Yes. That’s my Kryptonite. Need a quick fix. Must win.” Rand staggered around the room like a weakened man, clutching the table for support.
“Good. How about a quick match of beach volleyball?” Paul asked.
Rand straightened slowly. “What did you have in mind?”
“Two on two. You and Corrine against me and Angelica.”
Paul was looking at Rand, but Rand looked at her and Corrine wasn’t sure what to do. She shrugged. “I don’t have a change of clothes.”
“Angelica keeps spare clothes on the yacht. I know she’d loan you some. I’ll go check with her,” Paul said, leaving the room.
She sensed Rand’s eyes on her as she finished clearing the last table and put some things in the trash. She didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want to see that challenging light in his eyes. But she glanced over her shoulder and was captivated.
“Wanna play?”
No, she thought. She wanted to retreat to her home ground—her safety area—and forget about her job and men and everything. At least until Monday when life would be normal again.
“I’m not good at sports,” she said carefully. She prided herself on mastering whatever she attempted. When her prowess at sports never developed she’d given up on them.
“You said winning wasn’t everything.”
“But to you it is.”
“How about we just have fun?”
“I can do fun.”
“Really, without your laptop?”
“Make up your mind. Do you want me to play or not?”
“I want you to play, but it’s up to you,” he said.
She knew he’d be disappointed if she didn’t play. Why did pleasing him matter? But for some reason it did. Before she could answer, Paul returned with Angelica.
“Come on, Corrine. It’ll be fun,” Angelica said.
Corrine nodded and found herself in a very short time standing barefoot in the sand wearing borrowed clothes. Rand wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.
Her mind ceased functioning and all she could do was breathe in the masculine scent of his aftershave and feel the warmth of his body pressed to hers. His leg was hairy and tickled where it rubbed against hers.
“Here’s the plan,” he said, his words brushing across her skin.
“I can’t hit the ball very hard,” she said.
He smiled at her. It was the kind of smile that people always gave you when you were athletically challenged. “Don’t worry. I can.”
“Tell me what to do.”
“I will.”
“Don’t let this go to your head,” she said.
“How?”
“I’m still in charge.”
“How can I forget it? You bought me, remember?” he asked.
She knew she didn’t want to like him but realized it was too late. He served the ball and the game progressed. She realized that Rand Pearson was the kind of guy that made her wish she still believed in happy endings.
Three
Rand knew Paul had meant for the game to be friendly; the inclusion of the women pretty much said it without words. Angelica, though, was a fierce competitor and Corrine as well rose to the occasion, playing with more spirit than skill. But Rand had never been able to participate in any match and not give it his total concentration.
Even his demons demanded perfection from him. He did everything to the max without worry for the consequences. And sometimes the price he paid was high.
He forgot about winning the first time Corrine flinched, putting her hands up to block the ball instead of hitting it back over the net. But it soon became apparent that Corrine didn’t like to be unsuccessful. She watched Angelica and Paul and found weaknesses in their game that allowed her and Rand to stay even with them.
They’d probably be able to win if he could keep his eyes off her bare legs. It wasn’t as if hers were the first he’d ever seen. But for some reason his eyes kept straying there. And his libido went into overdrive.
The sand was warm beneath his feet and he imagined only the two of them remained on the volleyball court. She was sweaty from the sun and from playing. Her T-shirt clung to her torso like a second skin, revealing all that her neat dress had hidden earlier. He wanted to toss the ball to the ground and pull her close to him. Not to huddle over game strategy but to taste those full lips of hers.
“Rand?” she asked. He imagined her calling his name in a much more intimate situation. Urging him closer to her body, bringing her mouth to his and whispering his name as her lips touched his.
“Rand?”
He glanced up to find Corrine staring at him. He became aware of the ball in his hands and the fact that he was supposed to be serving instead of ogling his teammate’s legs. Damn, she got to him faster than any other woman he’d ever known. The tension that was always his companion settled in the pit of his stomach. It had been a long time since another person had affected him this deeply.
“Yes?” he asked, hoping his reaction to Corrine wasn’t visible to the world. His beach shorts weren’t made to disguise the hardening of his groin. He shifted a little and decided he had to concentrate on the game. The sexual thing he could handle if that were the only draw to Corrine. But the depths he kept glimpsing of this woman’s soul made him wary.
“You okay?” she asked. She’d pushed her sunglasses to her head, and her eyes were serious as she watched him.
Did she suspect where his mind had been? “Fine. I was figuring out the score.”
“Two-two,” she said.
Okay, time to play and forget about the tempting woman whom he didn’t want to like. The woman who’d shared some of her past with him and whom he realized he wanted to know more about. But he’d never ask. Because knowing more meant forming bonds and commitments. He wasn’t a “forever” kind of guy. He couldn’t ask anyone to share the life he lived because it was based on subterfuge.
He served the ball and the game ensued. It was fast and furious, and despite her claim not to be good at sports, Corrine played well. The next serve would determine who won the game.
Rand just couldn’t wait for it to be over so he could hit the shower, preferably a cold one. And try to forget about how Corrine’s shorts had ridden up on the curve of her buttocks as she’d lunged for the ball. She had a sweet, curvy rear that made his fingers tingle with the need to test the resilience of those curves.
“Time out,” Corrine called, and walked to the center of the court. She stood there staring at him. Had she realized his mind wasn’t on the game?
“You tired?” he asked. She was flushed and her eyes seemed exhausted.
She shook her head. “I want to talk to you.”
He waited, but she gestured impatiently for him to join her. Angelica and Paul were huddled together, but it looked as if they were smooching rather than discussing strategy. Part of him hungered for what they had, but Rand quickly pushed it deep down and ignored it as he always did. Having it all came at a high cost and he wasn’t willing to pay the price.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Umm…”
He waited. She didn’t smell sweaty, he realized, but faintly floral and something else that he associated only with Corrine. He’d held her in his arms twice and some things had become imbedded in his senses.
“Were you serious about playing for fun?” she said at last.
Not really, but he knew that coaxing her into the game had been his motivation earlier. Still, he couldn’t tell her how important winning was to him. “Yes, why?”
“Good.” She nibbled her lower lip and he watched. He thought she said something about not caring if they didn’t win, but all he could do was watch her teeth and tongue and her sexy lips and wonder how they’d taste under his. Would she react with the passion he sensed was bottled up inside of her? Or would she be cool like her outer surface image?
“I think we have a good shot at winning,” he said at last.
“What if we didn’t?” she asked.
He realized she was trying to tell him something without saying the words. “I’m not making the connection here, darling. Just tell me what you’re trying to say.”
She shrugged. “I don’t think I should beat my boss.”
“Paul doesn’t care if we win. I’ve played him lots of times at basketball and golf. I usually win,” he said.
“That’s different.”
“How do you figure?” he asked, leaning closer to her.
She tilted her head to the side and then stood on her tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “You don’t work for Paul.”
He ignored the jolt of that went through him. “That’s right, I don’t.”
She pulled back and met his gaze evenly. “You work for me, right?”
He arched one eyebrow. “We both know I do.”
She grimaced at him. “I’d like to see you lose when you do that eyebrow thing.”
“Oh, does it bother you?”
“You can be so annoying when you try.”
“I know. It’s a gift.”
“I don’t like it, Rand.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
“Good. Remember what else I said.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“Then I’ll say it now. I’d rather not win.”
“Do you have a plan to lose? Because Paul will notice if we suddenly start missing the ball.”
“You’ll just have to pretend to be distracted,” she said.
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“You’re a smart man. You’ll think of something.”
Several seconds passed before Rand replied to her rather provocative words. “Will you be distracting me?” he asked. There was something very masculine in his tone that made everything feminine in her stir. She wanted to run from Rand and the male gleam in his eyes but she was made of stronger stuff.
The cowardly part of her doubted that. But she was determined to stay where she was. “How?”
Her world was very narrow and she’d never had to distract a man before. Manipulate them a time or two in a business situation to get the results she wanted, but never distract. Her mind was going wild trying to figure out what he had in mind.
He muttered something under his breath. She tugged at the hem of the jogging shorts that Angelica had loaned her. They were shorter than she was used to, but otherwise fit well.
“What’d you say?” she asked.
“Nothing. You just stand there and I’ll be distracted,” he said.
It was the closest thing she’d ever had to a compliment from a man. Usually she froze them out before they could work up the nerve to say anything personal to her. She’d learned a long time ago that life was simpler without interpersonal relationships.
But there was something about Rand that made her not want to freeze him out. That made her want to try to bring him closer to her. That made her…just want him.
“Really?” she asked without thinking.
He gave her one of those lord-of-the-manor looks and she wished she’d kept her mouth closed. But it was too late. Besides, he was too arrogant for his own good.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know that you are an attractive woman,” he said.
Scooting a few feet away from him, she glanced objectively down at her body. She spent some time working out so she wasn’t overweight, but when she looked in the mirror all she saw was a rather average-looking woman. Now wasn’t the time to argue the point with him, but she knew he was mistaken.
A change of subject was needed. “What if I just talk to you?”
“You haven’t been quiet the entire game and that hasn’t affected my playing,” he said.
He was right. She didn’t really know how to play the game and had been calling questions to him. He’d been really good and he was hard to distract. One time she’d yelled at him to watch out when he’d dived for the ball and he’d still managed to hit it over the net.
He was a superb athlete. He wore only surf shorts, leaving his chest bare. He was tanned and his muscles were firm and delineated. She knew why she wanted to believe he found her attractive—he was the kind of man that she’d always secretly drooled over.
Actually, she should probably be the one to act distracted by him. Of course, it wouldn’t be an act. She hadn’t been able to keep her mind on work all day. Instead of being the key to her next promotion, Rand seemed more like her Achilles’ heel.
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