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Trading Places with the Boss
Raye Morgan
Nobody could put Rafe Allman in his place…until a corporate challenge put Shelley Sinclair in the position to teach the control-freak corporate bigwig what it's like to take orders for a change!But as their brainstorming sessions segued into stolen kisses, their temporary role reversal made the spirited secretary dream of much more than one-upmanship…. The sparks zapping between Shelley and Rafe were more potent than the long-standing feud dividing their hometown.Yet now that the Texas sweetie had melted Rafe's granite heart, could he formulate the perfect strategy to recruit her as his wife?
“I’m the boss. I can’t take advantage of you.”
Rafe threw back his head and laughed. “So what does that mean?” he asked as they got into the elevator car. “I have to wait until Monday before I can attempt any sort of intimacy with you, no matter how innocent?”
“Hmm.” Shelley pretended to think about it. They reached their floor and got off, and she started toward her hotel room. “No. Sorry. That won’t work, either.”
Reaching into her pocket, she produced her plastic room card and pushed it into the slot. “On Monday, the inappropriateness turns in the other direction, and it would be you taking advantage of me.”
Her door opened and she turned to smile impishly at him.
His answering grin was endearingly lopsided as he leaned with one arm against her doorway….
Trading Places with the Boss
Raye Morgan
RAYE MORGAN
has spent almost two decades, while writing over fifty novels, searching for the answer to that elusive question: Just what is that special magic that happens when a man and a woman fall in love? Every time she thinks she has the answer, a new wrinkle pops up, necessitating another book! Meanwhile, after living in Holland, Guam, Japan and Washington, D.C., she currently makes her home in Southern California with her husband and two of her four boys.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter One
“Here we go,” Shelley Sinclair whispered to the coworker sitting next to her in the plush seats of the auditorium.
Jaye Martinez nodded and gave her a quick grin.
Shelley took a deep breath, closed her eyes for luck, and opened the folded paper she’d been handed.
Allman Industries, Team A Role exchangers: Rafe Allman and Shelley Sinclair
She stared at the notation in dismay. No! Not Rafe Allman!
Jaye glanced at her own paper, then leaned close to see Shelley’s. Her eyes widened and she whispered teasingly, “Whatever you do, don’t show fear. Men like that can sense it, like dogs, and they’ll rip you apart.”
Still reeling from the horrifying partner she’d been given in the conference competition, Shelley didn’t get it right away.
“What?” she said.
Laughing, Jaye patted her arm. “I’m only kidding. Rafe Allman isn’t really that bad. In fact, he’s about the hunkiest boss in this part of Texas, so you ought to be able to put up with a little arrogance if that comes with the deal.”
“Speak for yourself,” Shelley muttered, looking over to see who Jaye had drawn. Then she sighed, completely jealous and careless about showing it. “You got Mr. Tanner. He’s such a sweetie—you’ll have a great time with him.”
Jaye nodded happily. “I’m already planning ways to wrap him around my little finger. I’ve got four whole days to convince him I’m the only woman in the world made just for him. What kind of odds will you give me?”
Shelley managed a wistful smile, looking at her beautiful friend whose raven tresses were a direct contrast to her own long blond hair.
“He’s a goner. No doubt about it.”
Jaye put on an innocent look, making Shelley grin. Then she rose, joining the throngs of others leaving the auditorium. Shelley gathered her conference bag and the stack of handouts and followed her. As their crowd emptied into the foyer of the luxury hotel where the conference was being held, she caught sight of Rafe Allman and Jim Tanner waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp.
She groaned—partly because she dreaded meeting up with her assigned partner, and partly because she hated the way her heart began to pound out a nervous rhythm at the prospect. Even so, the crush of people was slowing progress long enough for her to make a studied comparison of the two men.
Jim Tanner was tall and blond with a twinkle in his eye and a face that looked ready to smile. Rafe Allman was a different sort entirely. Just as tall, his shoulders were square and broad giving him a look of strength Jim Tanner just didn’t have. His dark eyes had a searching look and his face seemed more ready to twist with cynicism than to smile.
And still, he was devastatingly, head-turningly handsome. Countless women would have jumped at the chance to spend four days in close contact with the man.
Unfortunately she wasn’t one of them. Maybe she’d known him too long—and knew enough to stay away. She’d always thought there was something wild in Rafe, like an animal that had been gentled, but never tamed.
His head went back as he spotted the two women. He gave Jaye a welcoming smile, but that smile dimmed a bit as he made eye contact with Shelley. She lifted her chin. That was fine with her. They were going to have to work together, but that didn’t mean she was ready to let down any safeguards.
Rafe was the de facto head of Allman Industries, a distribution center for local Texas wineries, even though his father was still the actual president of the company. And Rafe fulfilled the role of the man in charge with cool assurance.
“Like lambs to the slaughter,” Jaye said under her breath just before they met the men.
“Who? Us or them?” Shelley was afraid that she and Jaye had a slightly different perspective on the matter.
“You missed the introductory address,” Jaye told the men as they met them, her tone accusing but also just this side of flirtatious. “You missed all the information about what we’re supposed to do.”
“That’s what we have you lovely ladies here for,” Rafe said with a humorous gleam in his eye. “We’re counting on your legendary attention to detail.”
“We’ll share the burden,” Shelley said lightly. “Next meeting, you two can attend, and Jaye and I will play hooky.”
Rafe raised one silky dark eyebrow, looking surprised. Did he think she was being a bit presumptuous, considering he was the highest-ranking Allman Industries executive here and she was a lowly administrative assistant? Little did he know that situation was about to make a radical change. Her pulse was racing at the thought.
Her gaze met his and caught for just a beat or two, and suddenly she knew it was more than her attitude he was aware of. He was thinking back to last New Year’s Eve when, for just a moment, the possibility of something romantic had sparked between them. It hadn’t lasted long, and they had both spent the rest of the year avoiding each other like the plague, despite the fact that they worked for the same company. But it was always there between them, every time they met.
“We’ve got a table in the bar,” Jim Tanner was saying. “Come on and fill us in over drinks.”
Jaye very happily took his arm and began teasing him about how surprised he was going to be when he found out what the theme of the contest was this year. That left Shelley and Rafe to walk stiffly side by side, each trying to ignore the other.
The bar was noisy and crowded but the table was being saved by a couple of other employees from Allman Industries and soon they were all six jammed around it. Shelley talked and laughed with the others as they ordered drinks, but she noted that Rafe had very carefully taken a seat as far away from her as he could get.
“Well, I really wish someone would explain to me exactly what we’re doing here,” Dorie Berger, a pert young office worker, said plaintively. “Everyone keeps telling me this is such a privilege to get to attend, but no one ever bothered to fill me in on what goes on at these things.”
“This is the way it works,” Rafe said, giving her a smile that seemed to Shelley to be mostly about showing his admiration for Dorie’s tight-fitting sweater. “The competition is in a different city each year. Each company is allowed to submit up to three teams made up of seven of their employees each. They all spend the four days of the conference getting their presentation honed and ready. On the last day, each team does its thing in front of the judges and the winner gets a nice big trophy for the trophy case at work—and the prestige that goes with it in the industry.”
“But what’s the point?” Dorie asked, still looking bewildered.
“It’s supposed to make us think outside of the box and come up with new ideas,” Jim Tanner offered. “The point is to encourage us all to strive for excellence in our business dealings.”
“Not quite,” Rafe said deliberately, and suddenly everyone was quiet, listening to him.
That very fact alone drove Shelley wild. Why did they all act like he was the most marvelous thing since the invention of the wheel? He was just a very handsome, very dynamic, very charismatic—regular guy. That was all.
“The point,” he was saying dramatically, “is to give the best damn presentation in the competition. The point is to grind your competitors in the dust. The point…” He raised his glass and looked around the table, his own dark eyes hinting at a steely determination. “The point is to win.”
“Hear, hear,” said Jaye, and they clinked glasses all around.
Shelley joined them, but her heart wasn’t in it. Taking on the leadership role here was going to thrust her into a position she might not like very much. She was going to have to fight Rafe all the way. Was she really ready for this?
Quickly she shoved that thought aside. She would have to think about that later, when she was alone. Right now dealing with being at a table under the direct observation of Rafe’s too-knowing gaze was about as much as she could handle.
“Well, what are the competitions like?” Dorie was asking.
“It’s different every year,” Jim said. “One year you had to pretend your product was a politician and develop an election campaign around it. Campaign signs and speeches.”
Shelley smiled, then offered up, “Last year we had to develop a ten-minute musical for our product, with each person on the team singing something for at least one minute.”
“Oh, no!”
“Did we win?” Rafe asked, gazing at her levelly.
Shelley hesitated. “I think the A team came in fifth.” She saw his look of disapproval and she bristled. “That’s not so bad. There were ninety-two teams competing.”
His gaze sharpened. “So you came last year? I thought this gig was on a three-year rotation.”
Attendance was considered a perk and company policy was that each employee could only do it once every three years so that the spots were shared more equally around the workforce.
“Yes, I came last year,” she admitted. “Actually, Harvey Yorgan was supposed to come with you all today, but his wife went into premature labor, so I got volunteered at the last minute.”
Actually, she’d volunteered herself, and with an ulterior motive that she couldn’t reveal to anyone. But that was something she hoped no one would figure out, most of all, Rafe Allman.
“Well, we’re down to the wire,” he said, looking at her expectantly. “Let’s have it. What is it this year?”
She licked her dry lips. “This year one member of the squad has to change places with the boss.”
He stared at her as though he didn’t understand what she was saying, so she amplified.
“The highest ranking person on each team has to become just one of the employees,” she explained. “And one of the employees becomes the new boss.”
The air seemed still between them as he digested this setup. Then he shrugged.
“Great.” Rafe gave her a comical grin. “So I don’t have to do any work.”
Everybody laughed. Everybody but Shelley. He was still staring into her eyes, and she was staring right back. She was not going to let him intimidate her. But her heart was still pounding.
“So who is it?” he asked at last, but surely he already guessed.
“Jaye will be trading with Jim.” She smiled at her friend, then glanced at Rafe. “And you and I will be switching,” she added, trying not to sound as breathless as she felt.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Interesting.”
Something in his voice—and his eyes—sent a shiver slithering down her spine.
“Don’t show fear,” Jaye had said. She’d been joking, but she’d been closer to the mark than she knew. Shelley had to admit it, if only to herself. The man scared her.
Not in a physical way. She didn’t suspect he had an abusive side. But there was a streak of animal magnetism to him that sent her over the moon. Maybe it was just a quirk in her own character. Maybe she had a natural weakness for men with midnight eyes and chiseled chins, like some women had a weakness for wine or chocolate. Whatever—she knew she was drawn to him, and she also knew giving in to that pull would be very bad for her.
“Then what do we do?” he asked at last. “Learn to tap dance to our company theme song?”
Her smile was tight. “We develop a business plan that will enhance the operations of our company in some way.”
His gaze became speculative. “You mean besides providing a product along with jobs and benefits for our employees and making a little profit off the top.”
“Yes.”
“Right.” He grinned and leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his drink. Then he looked at them all with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this.”
That did it! How could she be so attracted to a man who made her so angry at the same time? The condescending tone did it for her. It conjured up too many memories of times in the past when he’d tormented her in one way or another. Reaching into one of her Quality in Performance and Leadership Conference folders, she pulled out the information sheet and put it in front of him so that he could see the setup for himself.
“Actually, I’ll be handling it,” she told him as calmly as she could manage. “And the first decision I’m making is to have a strategy meeting.”
He looked surprised. “What for?”
Oh, he was going to be tough. She could see it right now. He wasn’t going to give up the reins of power without a fight. There was no way he was going to submit peacefully. But he was going to have to.
“We need to get going on a project right away,” she said quickly. “Five o’clock. My room. Please let the others know, Rafe. The list of our group members is attached.” She smiled at him, trying to maintain a professional air despite the fact that she was furious with him. “Your first assignment.”
His eyes narrowed. Shelley had a sense of everyone else at the table holding their breath, waiting to see what was going to happen next. She had to make a move before he did.
Grabbing her purse, conference bag and papers, she rose from her chair.
“Oh, and Rafe?” she said, turning back, her heart beating hard in her chest. “For the next four days, why don’t you call me Miss Sinclair? That might help you keep our new positions straight.”
She smiled sweetly at everyone, noting the stunned faces all around, and then her gaze came back to meet Rafe’s. Was that anger she saw? Laughter? Mockery?
She couldn’t tell. But there was no time for analysis. If she delayed this dramatic leave-taking any longer, she would spoil the whole thing.
“See you at five,” she said, turning to go.
She didn’t hear what he said, but she recognized his low voice saying something, and the table erupted with laughter just as she reached the doorway. Had he been making fun of her? No doubt. Her face was suddenly very hot and she knew she must be glowing like a neon sign.
“Darn you, Rafe Allman,” she muttered to herself as she went quickly toward the elevator. “Darn you and the horse you rode in on!”
Five o’clock came and Shelley waited nervously, adjusting chairs, turning down the music. What if Rafe defied her and didn’t show up? What if he didn’t tell the others? What if he did show up and made fun of her all through the meeting?
Think it couldn’t happen? Hah!
The thing was, she and Rafe had a track record that went back over twenty years. There were times when her close friendship with his sister Jodie meant that she had practically lived at the Allman house. Growing up, her mother had been busy all the time with the coffee shop she ran, Millie’s Café. On hot summer days, Shelley usually found her way to Jodie’s and the two of them did all the things young girls frolicked in together.
Even back then she and Rafe had been adversaries. He was always finding some way to embarrass her or make her feel inadequate. He was, after all, the one who pointed out to everyone at the Allman dinner table when she was eleven and wore her first training bra to dinner at their house. Her face still burned when she thought of the looks on all their faces as they stared in surprise and amusement at her youthfully modest chest.
Too bad she didn’t find a way to murder him then.
Never mind. She was stuck with him for the weekend so she would just have to make the best of it. She knew he must hate her in the position of being his boss, even if temporarily. And she knew she was going to have to fight him all the way just to keep him from taking over.
If only Rafe’s older brother Matt had come instead of Rafe. Matt was older, wiser…nicer. She considered him the ideal big brother she never really had. She would do just about anything for him.
A knock sounded and she jumped. Taking a deep breath, she walked quickly to the door and opened it.
“Good evening, Miss Sinclair.” Rafe stood looking down at her, the mockery in his eyes echoing the mockery in his voice.
Behind him was the rest of the group. She did a quick inventory. Candy Yang, a paralegal, would make a great assistant. She’d dealt with her before. Jerry was head of finance, but she also knew he was a home carpenter who loved woodworking and could easily supervise building sets. Pretty little Dorie Berger was an entry-level office worker, a sweet young thing who would do pretty much as she was told. And the two others were people she didn’t really know very well, but they seemed agreeable.
“Here we are,” Rafe was saying, draping himself across her doorway. “Your loyal minions, awaiting your command.”
“Good,” she said, standing back. “Come on in. We need to get started right away.”
Her gaze met his as he sauntered into the room. Something hard and challenging lurked deep in his eyes, and her mouth went dry as she noted it. The weekend was going to be a rough one. Her challenge had only begun.
Chapter Two
Sometimes that whole damn sex thing just got in the way.
Rafe sat toying with the remains of a sumptuous dessert, moving curled pieces of bitter chocolate from one side of the plate to the other with his silver fork. But his mind was on the woman at the other end of the long table.
Shelley Sinclair. He’d known her just about all his life. And here she was, complicating things for him once again. It would certainly be easier if she didn’t have that long, silky hair that fell down into a sensual curl just over the swell of her left breast. If she didn’t have those doe-shaped eyes that seemed to hide a secret sorrow. If she didn’t have that soft, lush mouth that always made him think of long, hot kisses and the scent of gardenias.
Why gardenias? He had no idea.
And the entire thing disgusted him anyway. Just looking at her now, as she slowly put another forkful of whipped cream in that beautiful mouth, he felt a surge of desire that almost made him groan aloud. He was too old for this sort of thing, dammit! Lusting after anyone would have been a problem, but lusting after Shelley Sinclair was nuts.
It hadn’t always been like this. Years ago, when Shelley had hung around the Allman house with his little sister Jodie, and the two of them had spied on him and teased him and made his life miserable, he certainly hadn’t thought of her as sexy. In fact, if he thought of her at all, it had been with extreme annoyance—as in, “What a brat!”
But that was then.
Now she was another sort of irritant. And he couldn’t let that get in the way of what had to be accomplished here. He hadn’t asked for this assignment, but now that it had been thrust on him, he was damn well going to come out of it with a trophy in his hand. Allman Industries had to win this competition and it was up to him to make sure that happened. This whole setup, where he was supposed to switch places with Shelley, was going to work against him having the control he needed. And he was going to have to do something about that.
The strategy meeting had been frustrating. He’d assumed that after a little bit of moderating for window-dressing, she would gracefully sit back and let him take over. After all, that was where he belonged, where he usually was—in charge. It was the natural order of things and everyone knew it.
Everyone but Shelley, who seemed to be on another trajectory entirely. She’d held onto the floor, stubborn as a squirrel with the last fall acorn. She had plans and she laid them out, talking fast, assigning workshops for the next morning, giving out instruction sheets. He’d hardly gotten a word in edgewise.
And just when he’d had enough and he’d stood up to take over the reins by force if he had to, she’d given him a triumphant look and adjourned for dinner. Then they had all trooped down to the restaurant to meet the other Allman Industries employees for a totally choice meal. All twenty-one of them. Made you wonder who was home minding the store.
But that was okay. This competition was important, more important than the others here knew. It wasn’t just his competitive nature that was at stake here. A major supply contract hinged on the outcome. That was the way they had built the business, scraping and fighting for every advantage. He’d promised his father he would deliver a win and that was what he was going to do. After all, if he was going to prove to them all that he was the natural pick to take over the company, he had to show that he could be just as ruthless as his father ever was.
The others were rising from the table, preparing to go back to their rooms and get some sleep before attending the workshops in the morning. Rafe rose, too, nodding to Jim but brushing aside a melting look from Tina, the raven-haired, statuesque director of personnel who had been giving him the come-on for weeks now, and he headed straight for Shelley.
She looked up, surprised, when he took her arm and leaned close.
“We need to talk,” he said softly near her ear.
Her lovely mouth tilted at the corners. “Talk is cheap,” she quipped, gathering her things and looking toward the exit. “Send me an e-mail.”
His fingers ringed her upper arm. He wasn’t about to let her bolt, despite the way her flesh felt under his hand.
“You want all communications in writing, so you can hold my words as evidence against me?” he responded in kind. “Just a bit too transparent, Shelley. I’m not going to fall for that one.”
“Too smart for me, huh?” She gave a significant glance at his hand on her arm. “Or, if brains don’t work for you, you’re ready to move on to manhandling. Is that it?”
He didn’t let go. “Intimidation can come in many forms,” he noted dryly. “Some of them just your size.”
“Are you accusing me of using my feminine wiles to intimidate you?” she said, looking more amused than anything else.
He opened his mouth to say something that would get him into a lot of trouble, but luckily, he thought better of it in time.
“Shelley, I just want to talk to you. Don’t make a federal case out of it.”
“Okay.” She made a face that made it obvious she was surrendering to the inevitable. “Come on up to my room. I’ll give you fifteen minutes.”
Rafe drew in a deep breath, looking down at her. Okay, here was the crux of his dilemma. Every part of him yearned toward an evening alone in her room. He could already see the soft light, feel the romantic music coming in over the sound system, taste the way her mouth would yield under his….
No way. Couldn’t be done. How about the bar?
The music there would be throbbing with sensual urgency, the atmosphere provocative, the sense of impending possibilities tantalizing, her mouth would be just as tempting—and alcohol would be involved.
No. Too dangerous.
“Let’s walk down to the canal,” he said quickly, deciding a public walkway filled with tourists would pose the least risk. “Soak up some of the ambience.”
A slight frown appeared, but she nodded. “Fine. Let’s go.”
The evening air was unusually warm. The crowd was thick and in a rollicking mood. Lights from the boutiques and clubs bounced off the water and laughter formed a foundation for the music that filled the night. The scene was celebration.
But Rafe felt edgy. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket to keep from reaching out to help guide Shelley as she walked along beside him. Glancing sideways he saw that she came up above his shoulder. The perfect fit for him. He could already feel how it would be to put an arm around her slender form and curl her up against him.
He swore softly, fed up with the way his mind kept trending.
“You rang?” she said quizzically, glancing upwards in a way that emphasized the almond shape of her big brown eyes, her dark lashes leaving long shadows on her cheeks.
He swallowed hard and looked to the heavens for help. “Sorry,” he said shortly. “I just had a thought.”
“Quite an unusual experience for you I guess,” she said archly. “Do you swear every time you get one of those?”
He stared at her, fighting off the impulse to grab her and either shake her or kiss her. “You know what?” he said instead. “You’re as big a brat now as you were when we were kids.”
She glared at him. “Why not? You’re as big a bully.”
The crowd surged around them and someone bumped against Shelley, sending her reeling into his arms.
“Sorry,” said a disembodied voice but Rafe’s first instinct to go after the perpetrator evaporated as he looked down into her face and felt the fragility of her body against the strength of his.
Time stood still. He couldn’t breathe. The background faded into a swirling mist and all he could see were her huge eyes.
Then things went back to normal and they pulled apart, avoiding each other sternly, walking quickly toward the river. Rafe turned into a viewing bump-out and she settled alongside him as he leaned his elbows on the railing and stared into the inky waters below.
It was too late to pretend he didn’t react to her like a bug on a hot skillet. Everything she did, every time she moved, everything she said, triggered a response in him of one kind or another. If he couldn’t conquer it, at least he had to learn to hide it. He stood very still, steeling himself. Time to take back the controls, all the way around. Otherwise he was going to turn into a mushy mess. And that couldn’t happen.
Shelley was floundering. She had no idea what was going on with Rafe. He was acting so weird. He probably hated her.
And why not? She’d never liked him much.
Of course, there had been that New Year’s Eve party when they had both had a little too much to drink. He’d hung around making caustic comments and she’d given as good as she got—but when midnight came, he’d kissed her. The surprise of that kiss had shocked them both and they’d drawn apart unable to look each other in the eye. If it had been anyone else, that kiss might have launched a torrid affair. But since it was the two of them, they hadn’t spoken to each other since—until this weekend. The fact was, any sort of civil relationship between them just wasn’t meant to be.
Sighing, she looked out at the water, enjoying the bobbing lights reflected there. A slight breeze pressed the lacy fabric of her skirt against her legs.
“I love San Antonio,” she murmured, mostly to herself as she drew her shawl closer around her shoulders.
He turned to look at her, then looked away again.
“Funny how it used to seem like this huge city when I was young,” he said. “Now it seems more like an overgrown small town.”
“That’s what I like about it. You can wrap your arms around it and become a part of it so easily.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I like small towns. In fact, it’s cities I hate.”
She bit her tongue. If he was going to make everything into an argument, she just wouldn’t talk anymore.
The silence stretched between them. She risked a quick look his way. His attention was on the other side of the river, giving her an opportunity to study him for a moment. He had a rugged, masculine appeal, untamed and proud of it. Pure Texas. She remembered he’d always looked so very good riding a horse.
But that was then. And remember, she’d never liked him much. She had to keep that in mind at all times.
Suddenly, as though there had been no pause in their conversation, he spoke softly.
“My mom brought me to San Antonio for a weekend one November when I was a kid, to see the Christmas lights on the river.”
That surprised her, and not only because he was talking like a normal person for a change. “Just you? Not any of the others?” There were plenty of Allmans.
He shook his head. “Just me. I was about thirteen and she thought I needed something special. I think she was trying to make up for the fact that Pop was making it pretty plain that he considered Matt his fair-haired child and thought of me as good for nothing much.”
He stopped, frowning fiercely. Why the hell was he telling her all this? Of all people, she was the last…
But maybe it was because they’d known each other forever, practically grown up side by side. Too bad he couldn’t just think of her as a sister. But the feeling that swelled in him whenever he looked at her had nothing to do with brotherly love. So he had better stop looking.
“You were her favorite,” she said softly.
“Me?” That startled him. When he thought of his mother, he remembered a warm smile and a feeling of peace. She was just about perfect in his book. No one could ever touch her. It still hurt to know she was gone. “Nah. She didn’t have favorites. She was good to everyone.”
Shelley nodded. “She was a wonderful woman and she died much too young.” Reminders of that awful time, when Jodie’s sweet mother was dying of complications from heart surgery, made her wince. “But believe me, she had a special soft spot for you.”
He turned to look at her, frowning. “You were just a kid. You paid attention to things like that?”
She couldn’t hold back a smile. “Of course.”
His gaze lingered, then he turned away and her smile drooped.
But he’d unlocked a lot of memories. She’d spent so much time at that house, with that family, probably because she didn’t have much of a family herself. All she had was her always busy single mother. No one else. Millie avoided any talk about who her father was, so she’d made one up for herself. Tall, handsome, kind and loving, he was ideal—though he tended to evaporate into mist whenever she tried to reach out to him. That was the trouble with fantasy fathers.
So that really didn’t fill the lonely hole in her heart. She’d prayed every night for a brother or sister, until she’d finally gotten old enough to begin to understand why that wouldn’t ever happen. So she’d attached herself to the Allmans.
“You seem to have grown up okay despite losing your mother,” she told Rafe now. “And being left to the untender mercies of your father.”
He shrugged. “Pop’s okay.”
That almost made her angry. It wasn’t the way she remembered things.
“He can’t hit you anymore, can he?” she said softly. “You’re bigger than he is now.”
He reacted as though she’d said something crazy.
“What? Ah come on, he never hit me all that much.”
He turned to lean with his back against the railing, his arms crossed over his chest. This was something no one would ever understand. His father had always been rough on him. But that only made the times he came through and surprised the old man all the more satisfying.
“Anyway, that was the way his generation dealt with things. Say what you want about Pop, he’s a man of his time.”
She shook her head, wondering how he could defend the man. Jesse Allman was a character, a legend around their hometown of Chivaree, Texas. A hardscrabble sort of guy, he’d managed to work his much-scorned family out of poverty and up into dizzying success. He was a genius in his own way, and adept at turning his life around and making something of himself. But he hadn’t been a gentle father.
“You wouldn’t hit a child, would you?”
He gave her a look of weary resignation. “It’s called spanking, Shelley. And no, I don’t suppose I would do that. How about you?”
She shrugged. “I’m never going to have children.”
He stared at her, then shook his head. “Going for that big career in the sky, are you?”
For some reason, she felt like shivering. Was she really considered a career woman now? Oh, well, she supposed that was better than some things she might be called.
“Something like that,” she admitted reluctantly.
He turned back to look at the water. “You’re doing pretty well. I’ve heard good things about your work from Clay in Legal.”
Clay Branch, her supervisor in the legal division, another bothersome man in her life. “Maybe if I do a good job at this competition, Clay will finally pay some attention to my requests to get management training.”
“You want to be a manager?”
“I want to move up in my field. And that’s pretty much my only avenue, don’t you think?”
“Maybe so.” He grinned. “I guess that’s why you’re jumping at the chance to boss me around, huh?”
“I didn’t set up the framework for this competition.” She gazed at him challengingly. “But I’m not running from it, either. Do you feel threatened by that, Mr. Boss Man?”
Rafe didn’t respond but he moved restlessly, indicating he was ready to walk on, and she obliged. They passed a small club. Pieces of acoustic guitar music floated out into the night. The crowd was thinning out and the lights were not quite so bright in this direction.
“You used to live here in San Antonio, didn’t you?”
She nodded, feeling suddenly wary. It was not a period of her life she relished discussing. “Not for long,” she murmured, looking away.
“And you worked for Jason McLaughlin during that time, didn’t you?”
His question hit her like a slap in the face and she gasped softly. She sneaked a quick look at him. How much did he know?
Back in Chivaree, the McLaughlins were the family who founded and ran the town, and the Allmans were the outcasts. Things had changed over the last decade, and now the Allmans were riding high, running a company that was putting the McLaughlins into the shadows.
But the old legends still hung on. The McLaughlins were considered legitimate. The Allmans were the outlaws. And the two families had always hated each other.
So it was a big deal for Shelley, who had grown up identifying with the Allmans, to have worked for a McLaughlin. In many quarters, that would be considered the move of a traitor. Looking back, she considered it the move of a crazy person, a woman who had temporarily lost her mind and good sense. It certainly wasn’t something she bragged about, or wanted to remember fondly.
“That was a long time ago,” she said evasively.
“Only a little over a year, isn’t it?” He stopped, hands shoved into his pockets and looked at her searchingly. “So I guess this will be a reunion of sorts for you.”
Her heart was thumping in her chest and she reached up to finger her gold necklace nervously. “What are you talking about?”
“I just noticed it on the roster. McLaughlin Management is in the competition.” His stare was hard and penetrating. “Jason is here. Didn’t you know?”
“No, I didn’t know.” She wanted to reach out for something to lean on but she knew she couldn’t allow herself that luxury. This was something she hadn’t prepared for. She knew Jason’s business was doing very well, but they had never entered the competition before. Why did they have to decide to start now?
“Or is that exactly why you asked to be included in the team even though you had your turn last year?”
She looked into his face, bewildered. Did he really think she wanted a chance to get close to Jason McLaughlin again?
Then he knew—or at least suspected—about her past relationship with the man. That was embarrassing.
Still, a lot of people knew, so why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t anything she was proud of. And she certainly didn’t yearn for a repeat performance, if that was what he was implying. Anger shivered through her.
“Don’t worry, Rafe. I won’t be taking time off from the competition to dally with our competitors. We’ll put up a good fight for your beloved trophy.”
She started to stomp off but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“Shelley, don’t act like I’m all alone in this. Of all people, you should understand. We both come from dirt-poor backgrounds. We know what it’s like to scramble for a little dignity.”
She turned her face away, unwilling to join him in this, even rhetorically, as he went on.
“We’re not like the McLaughlins, either one of us. No silver spoons for us. We fight for every inch. So I think you understand me when I say we’ve got to win this thing. And a good part of the satisfaction in that will be beating the McLaughlins.”
“Beating the McLaughlins,” she echoed softly.
“Sure. They’ve always got the establishment behind them. We’re the little guy. We have to try harder.”
That was Rafe to a T—always trying harder. Always trying to show his father that he could be good at things. And the funny thing was, he was very good at just about everything. Too bad Jesse Allman never seemed to notice.
But she didn’t want to waste her time feeling empathy for Rafe. He was studying her reaction and she knew it. He wanted to know that she was on the side of Allman Industries, that she wasn’t going to defect to the enemy. Rebelliously she refused to give him that comfort.
She looked out at the water again. “I thought maybe, now that Jodie is marrying Kurt McLaughlin, the feud between your two families would begin to fade away.”
His mouth hardened. “The feud will begin to fade away when the McLaughlins stop being coldhearted bastards. Except for Kurt, of course. He’s always been different from the rest of them.”
She nodded. She had to agree on that score. Kurt had started working at Allman Industries some months before, despite a lot of resistance and bitterness from his own family. And when Jodie had come home to work there, too, a romance between the two of them had quickly blossomed.
Shelley loved Jodie and wished her the best, but she had to admit she was a little worried at first about the McLaughlin angle to it all. Her own experience told her that all the years of antagonism between the two families was based on more than pure spite.
She was still thinking about the McLaughlins as they started to walk back toward the hotel. There had been a time when she’d been so in love with Jason McLaughlin she could hardly see straight. And maybe that was why she didn’t realize what a jerk he was until it was too late.
No. Wait. That wasn’t really fair.
Jason hadn’t been so much a jerk as she herself had been blind and hopelessly naive. She hadn’t known he was married at first. From what she learned later, the marriage was stormy—with the two of them separated more often than they were together. She had started dating Jason during one of those separations. Still, only a fool would have believed his lies about it being over for good. Anyone with half a brain should have seen where things were headed. Only, she had been too overwhelmed by the chance to be with Jason. She had a brain, she just hadn’t used it. She still cringed when she remembered the day his wife had returned to find Shelley ensconced in their apartment. The bitter contempt in the woman’s eyes had been like a brand on her soul. And she knew she deserved every bit of that scorn.
“So I know you’re going to cooperate here. Right?”
He wanted reassurance. Well, too bad. At this point she wasn’t sure he deserved it. Looking at him, she made a face.
“Are you still obsessed with being number one all the time, Rafe? Is that all life is to you, always winning?”
“What’s wrong with winning? It’s better than being a loser.” His dark gaze raked over her sardonically. “Or maybe you prefer losers?”
“Not really. I’d say I prefer people of goodwill.”
He started to say something, then stopped himself and shook his head. “Goodwill, huh? Hey, I’m dripping with it.”
“Really?” The picture that conjured up almost made her laugh. She raised her eyebrows instead, then smiled faintly and made a grand gesture with her hand. “Perhaps I should clarify. I prefer people with a broader scope,” she said, purposefully making it sound snooty.
“Oh.” She was happy to see amusement begin to bubble in his gaze. “Broad scope, eh? Excuse me while I adjust my cravat.”
She gestured again, chin in the air. “You’re excused. Carry on.”
“Such graciousness. You put me to shame.”
She smiled impishly. “Then my work here is done.”
A faint grin actually appeared on his face. “Oh, no, honey. I’m going to be more of a challenge than you can imagine.”
Her breath caught in a little hiccup in her throat and she blinked to cover it up. “That’s a little scary. I can imagine a lot.” She flashed him a look. “I’ll clarify even further. I prefer men with a little sophistication.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I suppose what you really prefer is Jason McLaughlin.”
Her head whipped around and she glared at him. To her complete shock, he actually looked chagrined.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “That was a low blow.”
“You should know,” she said tartly. “You’re the king.”
“Of low blows?”
“And other assorted indignities.”
“Indignities.” He mocked the way she’d said the word, humor softening the edges. “Gettin’ sorta high falutin with your language there, girl. I knew you way back when we were both prairie rats. You can’t fool me.”
He was teasing her, but in a gentle way, not the way he used to when they were young. If he didn’t watch out, she was going to start to like him.
“Maybe you can’t be fooled,” she said. “But at the same time, you can be persuaded. You’re a smart guy. You know there’s nothing wrong with reaching for something a little higher.”
A boisterous bunch of young people was headed straight for them. Reaching out, he put a hand at the nape of her neck, guiding her with a protective touch as the youngsters passed.
“Just as long as you don’t forget where you came from,” he murmured.
The feel of his hand on her skin was seductive and she felt a lazy sense of warmth seeping into her system. Taking a quick step to the side, she managed to pull away as she pretended to need the room to turn and face him.
“Well, look at you,” she said earnestly. “You were in a business suit this afternoon. You had on a tie and everything. Your shirt was crisp and white and your slacks had a great crease. You looked wonderful. Your father never looked like that in his life.”
His face twisted into a thoughtful frown. “So I’m aiming for a higher place just like you think I oughta, just by wearing a suit?” He gave her a look of pure exasperation. “Listen, Shelley. Nobody ever worked harder to make a ‘higher place’ in this world than my father did.”
“Except maybe my mother,” she shot back. “How do you think she managed to run Millie’s Café on her own? Nobody handed her anything.”
A reluctant grin began to surface again on his handsome face. “Well…my pop can outhustle your mom.”
Her chin went out. “Cannot.”
His eyes twinkled. “Can, too.”
She smiled back, just barely, flashing her eyes at him. “Well…maybe. But he can’t cook like she can.”
He nodded. “You got me there.”
They were back in front of the hotel. Without saying a word, they both paused. Neither seemed anxious to go in. She turned to look at him and he met her gaze.
“So you swear you didn’t come to the conference because of McLaughlin?” he demanded.
She hesitated, then held up her hand like a Girl Scout. “I swear to you. I probably wouldn’t have come myself if I’d known he was going to be here.”
He nodded slowly as though thinking that over. “So tell me…why did you come? Just what is your ulterior motive?”
She couldn’t keep meeting his gaze after that. Because the truth was, “ulterior motive” was a good phrase for her purpose. She had agreed to come at the last minute, knowing it would give her an opportunity she wouldn’t otherwise have to do a little detective work that needed to be done. But she couldn’t tell Rafe about that. To do so would involve telling a secret that wasn’t hers to share.
Taking in a deep breath, she raised her gaze to his again. “You know, there are some things that are just plain private,” she said firmly, though her pulse gave a nervous flutter as she noted his reaction. “My reasons have nothing to do with the business,” she added. “And anyway, you have no right to ask me.”
“You won’t tell me.” He looked astonished at her defiance.
She shook her head and shrugged, her palms out. “You have no need to know.” It was only the truth. Why couldn’t he accept it and move on?
His eyes looked very dark in the lamplight. “You realize that means I can’t put my suspicions to rest.”
She turned her head so fast her long silky hair whipped around her shoulders. He was being impossible. But then, that was his nature, wasn’t it? She’d almost forgotten with him seeming so approachable.
“Then you just suspect away all you want, honey,” she told him with her thickest Texas drawl. “As long as you do a good job for me tomorrow. Because for the time being, I…am…the…boss.” With a look daring him to dispute what she’d said, she whirled and strode for the elevators.
Chapter Three
In the morning, the first person Shelley saw as she stepped off the elevator on the lobby floor was the very man she dreaded seeing—Jason McLaughlin.
“Shelley. It’s been a long time.” The tall blue-eyed man in the Italian silk suit stepped forward and took both her hands in his, smiling down at her. “You look wonderful.”
For a moment she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to speak. Did he know her well enough to see the turmoil her heart was in? Did he notice the tightness around her mouth, the panic in her eyes?
Probably not. After all, there was no real evidence that he had ever known much of anything about her, that he had ever really cared. She’d warmed his bed and kept his apartment picked up. That was all he’d ever really wanted, wasn’t it?
On the other hand, she’d spent all of her teenage years watching everything he ever did. She’d even kept a notebook about him, hidden under her mattress and only brought out late at night to write some new secret in. Saw Jason at the feed store this afternoon. He had holes in his jeans and looked so cool. He turned my way and I almost had a heart attack. But he walked right by. I don’t think he saw me.
He was her one and only teenage crush, and when she moved to San Antonio after college and got a job in his firm, she was in seventh heaven. And then he actually noticed her, picked her out to be his special assistant, and very quickly, his special girl. It was like a dream come true. Until she woke up.
“Jason,” she said, finding her voice at last. “I’m surprised to find you here. I would have thought this would be a bit too bourgeois for you.”
“Don’t be silly,” he said, beaming at her. “This conference has become the highlight of the business year in San Antonio. We came to win the competition.” He laughed lightly, his white teeth flashing
Sharks have white teeth, too, she thought a bit wildly. Translation: beware!
Aloud she said, “Good luck. We’re hoping for a good result as well.” But she felt as though she were in deep water and in danger of losing her grip on the surface with predators circling.
He still had hold of one of her hands and he tried to tug her a bit closer. Looking down dreamily into her eyes in a way that would once have sent her reeling, he said coaxingly, “Listen, we’re both on our way to breakfast, aren’t we? Come have it with me. We’ll get a booth. We need to catch up on old times.”
She opened her mouth to respond, planning to put him in his place with a well-chosen word or two. But she wasn’t quick enough, because suddenly Rafe was there, sliding his arm around her shoulders.
“Sorry, McLaughlin,” he said coolly. “I’ve already got her booked up. You’re out of luck.”
“Rafe.” Jason’s face changed completely, but only for a moment. Very quickly he had his smooth, cultured mask on again. “I would make a crack about bad pennies, but that would be rude.”
“Go ahead and be as rude as you like,” Rafe told him evenly. “We’re all such old friends. You can be yourself around us if you like.”
Jason had a faint smile that didn’t warm his eyes at all. “Have a nice day,” he said, sarcasm coloring his tone as he turned away.
“We will,” Rafe promised, tightening his hold on Shelley’s shoulders as he began to lead her toward the breakfast area.
She went willingly enough, but her nerves were jangling and she pushed his arm away. The hostess indicated a table big enough to take the others as they arrived. Shelley turned and faced Rafe as they approached it.
“I could have handled that myself, you know,” she said.
“I have no doubt about it,” he said smoothly, escorting her into her seat at the table. “If you’d wanted to.”
Her eyes widened. He really didn’t trust her. She leaned forward, looking at him across the table. “Are you accusing me of something here?” she demanded.
He smiled thinly, then picked up the huge menu and began to peruse it. “I’m not going to tolerate any traitors on our team,” he said from behind it. “Just giving you fair warning.”
“Rafe Allman….” She clenched her hands into fists on the table. “You…you make me so mad!”
He looked around the menu as though surprised. “No reason for anger, Shelley. Don’t you get it?”
He dropped the menu and reached out to grab one of her hands. “The fact that we strike sparks off each other should be a plus for us. It’s great for creativity. It produces a tension that can help us create a dynamic that will blow everyone else in this competition away.”
She blinked at him. “Either that, or we’ll kill each other.”
He nodded. “That’s always a possibility, of course.”
But his eyes were smiling and she couldn’t resist smiling back for just a moment. Then she pulled her hand away from his and reached for her own menu.
“Don’t bother,” he said. “I know what I’m ordering for you.”
“What?”
“Dollar-size blueberry pancakes with cherry syrup and sausages.”
She stared at him, dumbfounded. He looked up at her, and she almost thought he was half embarrassed.
“Listen, I remember how you used to pack it away on Saturday mornings when Rita would cook a big breakfast for us all.”
Rita was the big sister, the oldest daughter in the Allman clan. “She cooked enough for half the neighborhood it seemed sometimes,” she murmured, remembering.
He nodded. “Anyway, you always loved those little round pancakes and that thick cherry syrup.”
How funny that he remembered that. A wave of nostalgia swept over her and she smiled. “Those were the days before I had to start watching my figure.”
“Hey, I’ll watch your figure for you. No problem at all. And I’ll let you know if I notice anything going wrong with it.”
She sighed. “Now you’re starting to disappoint me. That is such a lame joke.”
“Who’s joking?” He said it softly, his eyes burning.
The waitress arrived at their table, pouring them both cups of steaming coffee, and Rafe ordered for them. Shelley was too involved in thinking over what he’d just said and the way he’d looked to remember that she’d planned to stop him from ordering pancakes for her. And then it was too late and she decided to let it go.
She looked at him a bit warily. He looked back. She searched for something to say.
“Well. Ready for the big day?”
He grunted and took a sip of scalding coffee, making a face as it burned his tongue.
“The workshops last until noon,” she said, talking quickly to fill the silence. “We’ll meet for lunch in the Tapa Grill and then our group will adjourn to my room to decide on our plan. I’ve got some really interesting ideas.”
“Do you?” He looked surprised.
“Yes, I do.”
He shrugged. “I’ve got a few ideas of my own. Some pretty great ideas. I guess it will be the battle of the ideas. We’ll see whose ideas come out on top.”
She made a face. He was making this sound like some sort of monster truck rally or something. “I think mine are pretty good.”
He nodded, his dark gaze searching her face. “‘Pretty good’,” he echoed mockingly. “You see, there’s your problem, Shelley, ‘Pretty good’ is not going to win this competition. ‘Over-the-top pretty damn sensational’ might have a chance.” He shook his head, stabbing a fork into the air. “This is what worries me. You don’t have the killer instinct.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I should hope not.”
“But don’t you get it? The killer instinct is going to be bottom-line imperative to win this.”
“Oh, stop being so melodramatic. We’re going to do just fine.”
He stared at her for a moment, then groaned, throwing his head back. “Shelley, Shelley, Shelley. You’ve got to toughen up, girl. You cringe at the sight of blood. Metaphorically speaking. You can’t go for the throat, regardless. You’re not ready, willing and able to wage all-out war on everyone and everything that gets in your way.” His penetrating gaze stung. “And I am.” He sat back, looking infuriatingly pleased with himself. “You’d better leave this to me.”
She had to bite her tongue for a moment, and even count to ten. She didn’t want to start screeching at him. That would be embarrassing, especially with Jason McLaughlin sitting across the room, watching every move they made.
“You go ahead and give advice to the B group,” she said at last. “You are the highest ranking officer from Allman Industries. You have a right to manage us all you want. But as for our group, for the next four days, I’m the boss. You’re going to do what I say, Rafe Allman.”
He looked at her with heavily lidded eyes. “Is this some kind of payback?”
“Payback!” She rolled her eyes. “You are such an infuriating man. You really think it’s all about you, don’t you?”
“Well, isn’t it?”
She stared at him for a long moment. He really meant it.
“You know, you’re right. This is payback.” She leaned forward again, speaking earnestly. “It’s payback for the time you put green food coloring in the shampoo while Jodie and I were swimming and we ended up with green hair—and green faces and green hands.”
His eyebrows knit together as he recalled the incident. “I must admit, I hadn’t thought that through very well when I did it.” Still, he grinned. “But you two sure did look funny.”
She wasn’t going to concede that. She wasn’t going to concede anything to him anymore.
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Raye Morgan
Nobody could put Rafe Allman in his place…until a corporate challenge put Shelley Sinclair in the position to teach the control-freak corporate bigwig what it's like to take orders for a change!But as their brainstorming sessions segued into stolen kisses, their temporary role reversal made the spirited secretary dream of much more than one-upmanship…. The sparks zapping between Shelley and Rafe were more potent than the long-standing feud dividing their hometown.Yet now that the Texas sweetie had melted Rafe's granite heart, could he formulate the perfect strategy to recruit her as his wife?
“I’m the boss. I can’t take advantage of you.”
Rafe threw back his head and laughed. “So what does that mean?” he asked as they got into the elevator car. “I have to wait until Monday before I can attempt any sort of intimacy with you, no matter how innocent?”
“Hmm.” Shelley pretended to think about it. They reached their floor and got off, and she started toward her hotel room. “No. Sorry. That won’t work, either.”
Reaching into her pocket, she produced her plastic room card and pushed it into the slot. “On Monday, the inappropriateness turns in the other direction, and it would be you taking advantage of me.”
Her door opened and she turned to smile impishly at him.
His answering grin was endearingly lopsided as he leaned with one arm against her doorway….
Trading Places with the Boss
Raye Morgan
RAYE MORGAN
has spent almost two decades, while writing over fifty novels, searching for the answer to that elusive question: Just what is that special magic that happens when a man and a woman fall in love? Every time she thinks she has the answer, a new wrinkle pops up, necessitating another book! Meanwhile, after living in Holland, Guam, Japan and Washington, D.C., she currently makes her home in Southern California with her husband and two of her four boys.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter One
“Here we go,” Shelley Sinclair whispered to the coworker sitting next to her in the plush seats of the auditorium.
Jaye Martinez nodded and gave her a quick grin.
Shelley took a deep breath, closed her eyes for luck, and opened the folded paper she’d been handed.
Allman Industries, Team A Role exchangers: Rafe Allman and Shelley Sinclair
She stared at the notation in dismay. No! Not Rafe Allman!
Jaye glanced at her own paper, then leaned close to see Shelley’s. Her eyes widened and she whispered teasingly, “Whatever you do, don’t show fear. Men like that can sense it, like dogs, and they’ll rip you apart.”
Still reeling from the horrifying partner she’d been given in the conference competition, Shelley didn’t get it right away.
“What?” she said.
Laughing, Jaye patted her arm. “I’m only kidding. Rafe Allman isn’t really that bad. In fact, he’s about the hunkiest boss in this part of Texas, so you ought to be able to put up with a little arrogance if that comes with the deal.”
“Speak for yourself,” Shelley muttered, looking over to see who Jaye had drawn. Then she sighed, completely jealous and careless about showing it. “You got Mr. Tanner. He’s such a sweetie—you’ll have a great time with him.”
Jaye nodded happily. “I’m already planning ways to wrap him around my little finger. I’ve got four whole days to convince him I’m the only woman in the world made just for him. What kind of odds will you give me?”
Shelley managed a wistful smile, looking at her beautiful friend whose raven tresses were a direct contrast to her own long blond hair.
“He’s a goner. No doubt about it.”
Jaye put on an innocent look, making Shelley grin. Then she rose, joining the throngs of others leaving the auditorium. Shelley gathered her conference bag and the stack of handouts and followed her. As their crowd emptied into the foyer of the luxury hotel where the conference was being held, she caught sight of Rafe Allman and Jim Tanner waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp.
She groaned—partly because she dreaded meeting up with her assigned partner, and partly because she hated the way her heart began to pound out a nervous rhythm at the prospect. Even so, the crush of people was slowing progress long enough for her to make a studied comparison of the two men.
Jim Tanner was tall and blond with a twinkle in his eye and a face that looked ready to smile. Rafe Allman was a different sort entirely. Just as tall, his shoulders were square and broad giving him a look of strength Jim Tanner just didn’t have. His dark eyes had a searching look and his face seemed more ready to twist with cynicism than to smile.
And still, he was devastatingly, head-turningly handsome. Countless women would have jumped at the chance to spend four days in close contact with the man.
Unfortunately she wasn’t one of them. Maybe she’d known him too long—and knew enough to stay away. She’d always thought there was something wild in Rafe, like an animal that had been gentled, but never tamed.
His head went back as he spotted the two women. He gave Jaye a welcoming smile, but that smile dimmed a bit as he made eye contact with Shelley. She lifted her chin. That was fine with her. They were going to have to work together, but that didn’t mean she was ready to let down any safeguards.
Rafe was the de facto head of Allman Industries, a distribution center for local Texas wineries, even though his father was still the actual president of the company. And Rafe fulfilled the role of the man in charge with cool assurance.
“Like lambs to the slaughter,” Jaye said under her breath just before they met the men.
“Who? Us or them?” Shelley was afraid that she and Jaye had a slightly different perspective on the matter.
“You missed the introductory address,” Jaye told the men as they met them, her tone accusing but also just this side of flirtatious. “You missed all the information about what we’re supposed to do.”
“That’s what we have you lovely ladies here for,” Rafe said with a humorous gleam in his eye. “We’re counting on your legendary attention to detail.”
“We’ll share the burden,” Shelley said lightly. “Next meeting, you two can attend, and Jaye and I will play hooky.”
Rafe raised one silky dark eyebrow, looking surprised. Did he think she was being a bit presumptuous, considering he was the highest-ranking Allman Industries executive here and she was a lowly administrative assistant? Little did he know that situation was about to make a radical change. Her pulse was racing at the thought.
Her gaze met his and caught for just a beat or two, and suddenly she knew it was more than her attitude he was aware of. He was thinking back to last New Year’s Eve when, for just a moment, the possibility of something romantic had sparked between them. It hadn’t lasted long, and they had both spent the rest of the year avoiding each other like the plague, despite the fact that they worked for the same company. But it was always there between them, every time they met.
“We’ve got a table in the bar,” Jim Tanner was saying. “Come on and fill us in over drinks.”
Jaye very happily took his arm and began teasing him about how surprised he was going to be when he found out what the theme of the contest was this year. That left Shelley and Rafe to walk stiffly side by side, each trying to ignore the other.
The bar was noisy and crowded but the table was being saved by a couple of other employees from Allman Industries and soon they were all six jammed around it. Shelley talked and laughed with the others as they ordered drinks, but she noted that Rafe had very carefully taken a seat as far away from her as he could get.
“Well, I really wish someone would explain to me exactly what we’re doing here,” Dorie Berger, a pert young office worker, said plaintively. “Everyone keeps telling me this is such a privilege to get to attend, but no one ever bothered to fill me in on what goes on at these things.”
“This is the way it works,” Rafe said, giving her a smile that seemed to Shelley to be mostly about showing his admiration for Dorie’s tight-fitting sweater. “The competition is in a different city each year. Each company is allowed to submit up to three teams made up of seven of their employees each. They all spend the four days of the conference getting their presentation honed and ready. On the last day, each team does its thing in front of the judges and the winner gets a nice big trophy for the trophy case at work—and the prestige that goes with it in the industry.”
“But what’s the point?” Dorie asked, still looking bewildered.
“It’s supposed to make us think outside of the box and come up with new ideas,” Jim Tanner offered. “The point is to encourage us all to strive for excellence in our business dealings.”
“Not quite,” Rafe said deliberately, and suddenly everyone was quiet, listening to him.
That very fact alone drove Shelley wild. Why did they all act like he was the most marvelous thing since the invention of the wheel? He was just a very handsome, very dynamic, very charismatic—regular guy. That was all.
“The point,” he was saying dramatically, “is to give the best damn presentation in the competition. The point is to grind your competitors in the dust. The point…” He raised his glass and looked around the table, his own dark eyes hinting at a steely determination. “The point is to win.”
“Hear, hear,” said Jaye, and they clinked glasses all around.
Shelley joined them, but her heart wasn’t in it. Taking on the leadership role here was going to thrust her into a position she might not like very much. She was going to have to fight Rafe all the way. Was she really ready for this?
Quickly she shoved that thought aside. She would have to think about that later, when she was alone. Right now dealing with being at a table under the direct observation of Rafe’s too-knowing gaze was about as much as she could handle.
“Well, what are the competitions like?” Dorie was asking.
“It’s different every year,” Jim said. “One year you had to pretend your product was a politician and develop an election campaign around it. Campaign signs and speeches.”
Shelley smiled, then offered up, “Last year we had to develop a ten-minute musical for our product, with each person on the team singing something for at least one minute.”
“Oh, no!”
“Did we win?” Rafe asked, gazing at her levelly.
Shelley hesitated. “I think the A team came in fifth.” She saw his look of disapproval and she bristled. “That’s not so bad. There were ninety-two teams competing.”
His gaze sharpened. “So you came last year? I thought this gig was on a three-year rotation.”
Attendance was considered a perk and company policy was that each employee could only do it once every three years so that the spots were shared more equally around the workforce.
“Yes, I came last year,” she admitted. “Actually, Harvey Yorgan was supposed to come with you all today, but his wife went into premature labor, so I got volunteered at the last minute.”
Actually, she’d volunteered herself, and with an ulterior motive that she couldn’t reveal to anyone. But that was something she hoped no one would figure out, most of all, Rafe Allman.
“Well, we’re down to the wire,” he said, looking at her expectantly. “Let’s have it. What is it this year?”
She licked her dry lips. “This year one member of the squad has to change places with the boss.”
He stared at her as though he didn’t understand what she was saying, so she amplified.
“The highest ranking person on each team has to become just one of the employees,” she explained. “And one of the employees becomes the new boss.”
The air seemed still between them as he digested this setup. Then he shrugged.
“Great.” Rafe gave her a comical grin. “So I don’t have to do any work.”
Everybody laughed. Everybody but Shelley. He was still staring into her eyes, and she was staring right back. She was not going to let him intimidate her. But her heart was still pounding.
“So who is it?” he asked at last, but surely he already guessed.
“Jaye will be trading with Jim.” She smiled at her friend, then glanced at Rafe. “And you and I will be switching,” she added, trying not to sound as breathless as she felt.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Interesting.”
Something in his voice—and his eyes—sent a shiver slithering down her spine.
“Don’t show fear,” Jaye had said. She’d been joking, but she’d been closer to the mark than she knew. Shelley had to admit it, if only to herself. The man scared her.
Not in a physical way. She didn’t suspect he had an abusive side. But there was a streak of animal magnetism to him that sent her over the moon. Maybe it was just a quirk in her own character. Maybe she had a natural weakness for men with midnight eyes and chiseled chins, like some women had a weakness for wine or chocolate. Whatever—she knew she was drawn to him, and she also knew giving in to that pull would be very bad for her.
“Then what do we do?” he asked at last. “Learn to tap dance to our company theme song?”
Her smile was tight. “We develop a business plan that will enhance the operations of our company in some way.”
His gaze became speculative. “You mean besides providing a product along with jobs and benefits for our employees and making a little profit off the top.”
“Yes.”
“Right.” He grinned and leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his drink. Then he looked at them all with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this.”
That did it! How could she be so attracted to a man who made her so angry at the same time? The condescending tone did it for her. It conjured up too many memories of times in the past when he’d tormented her in one way or another. Reaching into one of her Quality in Performance and Leadership Conference folders, she pulled out the information sheet and put it in front of him so that he could see the setup for himself.
“Actually, I’ll be handling it,” she told him as calmly as she could manage. “And the first decision I’m making is to have a strategy meeting.”
He looked surprised. “What for?”
Oh, he was going to be tough. She could see it right now. He wasn’t going to give up the reins of power without a fight. There was no way he was going to submit peacefully. But he was going to have to.
“We need to get going on a project right away,” she said quickly. “Five o’clock. My room. Please let the others know, Rafe. The list of our group members is attached.” She smiled at him, trying to maintain a professional air despite the fact that she was furious with him. “Your first assignment.”
His eyes narrowed. Shelley had a sense of everyone else at the table holding their breath, waiting to see what was going to happen next. She had to make a move before he did.
Grabbing her purse, conference bag and papers, she rose from her chair.
“Oh, and Rafe?” she said, turning back, her heart beating hard in her chest. “For the next four days, why don’t you call me Miss Sinclair? That might help you keep our new positions straight.”
She smiled sweetly at everyone, noting the stunned faces all around, and then her gaze came back to meet Rafe’s. Was that anger she saw? Laughter? Mockery?
She couldn’t tell. But there was no time for analysis. If she delayed this dramatic leave-taking any longer, she would spoil the whole thing.
“See you at five,” she said, turning to go.
She didn’t hear what he said, but she recognized his low voice saying something, and the table erupted with laughter just as she reached the doorway. Had he been making fun of her? No doubt. Her face was suddenly very hot and she knew she must be glowing like a neon sign.
“Darn you, Rafe Allman,” she muttered to herself as she went quickly toward the elevator. “Darn you and the horse you rode in on!”
Five o’clock came and Shelley waited nervously, adjusting chairs, turning down the music. What if Rafe defied her and didn’t show up? What if he didn’t tell the others? What if he did show up and made fun of her all through the meeting?
Think it couldn’t happen? Hah!
The thing was, she and Rafe had a track record that went back over twenty years. There were times when her close friendship with his sister Jodie meant that she had practically lived at the Allman house. Growing up, her mother had been busy all the time with the coffee shop she ran, Millie’s Café. On hot summer days, Shelley usually found her way to Jodie’s and the two of them did all the things young girls frolicked in together.
Even back then she and Rafe had been adversaries. He was always finding some way to embarrass her or make her feel inadequate. He was, after all, the one who pointed out to everyone at the Allman dinner table when she was eleven and wore her first training bra to dinner at their house. Her face still burned when she thought of the looks on all their faces as they stared in surprise and amusement at her youthfully modest chest.
Too bad she didn’t find a way to murder him then.
Never mind. She was stuck with him for the weekend so she would just have to make the best of it. She knew he must hate her in the position of being his boss, even if temporarily. And she knew she was going to have to fight him all the way just to keep him from taking over.
If only Rafe’s older brother Matt had come instead of Rafe. Matt was older, wiser…nicer. She considered him the ideal big brother she never really had. She would do just about anything for him.
A knock sounded and she jumped. Taking a deep breath, she walked quickly to the door and opened it.
“Good evening, Miss Sinclair.” Rafe stood looking down at her, the mockery in his eyes echoing the mockery in his voice.
Behind him was the rest of the group. She did a quick inventory. Candy Yang, a paralegal, would make a great assistant. She’d dealt with her before. Jerry was head of finance, but she also knew he was a home carpenter who loved woodworking and could easily supervise building sets. Pretty little Dorie Berger was an entry-level office worker, a sweet young thing who would do pretty much as she was told. And the two others were people she didn’t really know very well, but they seemed agreeable.
“Here we are,” Rafe was saying, draping himself across her doorway. “Your loyal minions, awaiting your command.”
“Good,” she said, standing back. “Come on in. We need to get started right away.”
Her gaze met his as he sauntered into the room. Something hard and challenging lurked deep in his eyes, and her mouth went dry as she noted it. The weekend was going to be a rough one. Her challenge had only begun.
Chapter Two
Sometimes that whole damn sex thing just got in the way.
Rafe sat toying with the remains of a sumptuous dessert, moving curled pieces of bitter chocolate from one side of the plate to the other with his silver fork. But his mind was on the woman at the other end of the long table.
Shelley Sinclair. He’d known her just about all his life. And here she was, complicating things for him once again. It would certainly be easier if she didn’t have that long, silky hair that fell down into a sensual curl just over the swell of her left breast. If she didn’t have those doe-shaped eyes that seemed to hide a secret sorrow. If she didn’t have that soft, lush mouth that always made him think of long, hot kisses and the scent of gardenias.
Why gardenias? He had no idea.
And the entire thing disgusted him anyway. Just looking at her now, as she slowly put another forkful of whipped cream in that beautiful mouth, he felt a surge of desire that almost made him groan aloud. He was too old for this sort of thing, dammit! Lusting after anyone would have been a problem, but lusting after Shelley Sinclair was nuts.
It hadn’t always been like this. Years ago, when Shelley had hung around the Allman house with his little sister Jodie, and the two of them had spied on him and teased him and made his life miserable, he certainly hadn’t thought of her as sexy. In fact, if he thought of her at all, it had been with extreme annoyance—as in, “What a brat!”
But that was then.
Now she was another sort of irritant. And he couldn’t let that get in the way of what had to be accomplished here. He hadn’t asked for this assignment, but now that it had been thrust on him, he was damn well going to come out of it with a trophy in his hand. Allman Industries had to win this competition and it was up to him to make sure that happened. This whole setup, where he was supposed to switch places with Shelley, was going to work against him having the control he needed. And he was going to have to do something about that.
The strategy meeting had been frustrating. He’d assumed that after a little bit of moderating for window-dressing, she would gracefully sit back and let him take over. After all, that was where he belonged, where he usually was—in charge. It was the natural order of things and everyone knew it.
Everyone but Shelley, who seemed to be on another trajectory entirely. She’d held onto the floor, stubborn as a squirrel with the last fall acorn. She had plans and she laid them out, talking fast, assigning workshops for the next morning, giving out instruction sheets. He’d hardly gotten a word in edgewise.
And just when he’d had enough and he’d stood up to take over the reins by force if he had to, she’d given him a triumphant look and adjourned for dinner. Then they had all trooped down to the restaurant to meet the other Allman Industries employees for a totally choice meal. All twenty-one of them. Made you wonder who was home minding the store.
But that was okay. This competition was important, more important than the others here knew. It wasn’t just his competitive nature that was at stake here. A major supply contract hinged on the outcome. That was the way they had built the business, scraping and fighting for every advantage. He’d promised his father he would deliver a win and that was what he was going to do. After all, if he was going to prove to them all that he was the natural pick to take over the company, he had to show that he could be just as ruthless as his father ever was.
The others were rising from the table, preparing to go back to their rooms and get some sleep before attending the workshops in the morning. Rafe rose, too, nodding to Jim but brushing aside a melting look from Tina, the raven-haired, statuesque director of personnel who had been giving him the come-on for weeks now, and he headed straight for Shelley.
She looked up, surprised, when he took her arm and leaned close.
“We need to talk,” he said softly near her ear.
Her lovely mouth tilted at the corners. “Talk is cheap,” she quipped, gathering her things and looking toward the exit. “Send me an e-mail.”
His fingers ringed her upper arm. He wasn’t about to let her bolt, despite the way her flesh felt under his hand.
“You want all communications in writing, so you can hold my words as evidence against me?” he responded in kind. “Just a bit too transparent, Shelley. I’m not going to fall for that one.”
“Too smart for me, huh?” She gave a significant glance at his hand on her arm. “Or, if brains don’t work for you, you’re ready to move on to manhandling. Is that it?”
He didn’t let go. “Intimidation can come in many forms,” he noted dryly. “Some of them just your size.”
“Are you accusing me of using my feminine wiles to intimidate you?” she said, looking more amused than anything else.
He opened his mouth to say something that would get him into a lot of trouble, but luckily, he thought better of it in time.
“Shelley, I just want to talk to you. Don’t make a federal case out of it.”
“Okay.” She made a face that made it obvious she was surrendering to the inevitable. “Come on up to my room. I’ll give you fifteen minutes.”
Rafe drew in a deep breath, looking down at her. Okay, here was the crux of his dilemma. Every part of him yearned toward an evening alone in her room. He could already see the soft light, feel the romantic music coming in over the sound system, taste the way her mouth would yield under his….
No way. Couldn’t be done. How about the bar?
The music there would be throbbing with sensual urgency, the atmosphere provocative, the sense of impending possibilities tantalizing, her mouth would be just as tempting—and alcohol would be involved.
No. Too dangerous.
“Let’s walk down to the canal,” he said quickly, deciding a public walkway filled with tourists would pose the least risk. “Soak up some of the ambience.”
A slight frown appeared, but she nodded. “Fine. Let’s go.”
The evening air was unusually warm. The crowd was thick and in a rollicking mood. Lights from the boutiques and clubs bounced off the water and laughter formed a foundation for the music that filled the night. The scene was celebration.
But Rafe felt edgy. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket to keep from reaching out to help guide Shelley as she walked along beside him. Glancing sideways he saw that she came up above his shoulder. The perfect fit for him. He could already feel how it would be to put an arm around her slender form and curl her up against him.
He swore softly, fed up with the way his mind kept trending.
“You rang?” she said quizzically, glancing upwards in a way that emphasized the almond shape of her big brown eyes, her dark lashes leaving long shadows on her cheeks.
He swallowed hard and looked to the heavens for help. “Sorry,” he said shortly. “I just had a thought.”
“Quite an unusual experience for you I guess,” she said archly. “Do you swear every time you get one of those?”
He stared at her, fighting off the impulse to grab her and either shake her or kiss her. “You know what?” he said instead. “You’re as big a brat now as you were when we were kids.”
She glared at him. “Why not? You’re as big a bully.”
The crowd surged around them and someone bumped against Shelley, sending her reeling into his arms.
“Sorry,” said a disembodied voice but Rafe’s first instinct to go after the perpetrator evaporated as he looked down into her face and felt the fragility of her body against the strength of his.
Time stood still. He couldn’t breathe. The background faded into a swirling mist and all he could see were her huge eyes.
Then things went back to normal and they pulled apart, avoiding each other sternly, walking quickly toward the river. Rafe turned into a viewing bump-out and she settled alongside him as he leaned his elbows on the railing and stared into the inky waters below.
It was too late to pretend he didn’t react to her like a bug on a hot skillet. Everything she did, every time she moved, everything she said, triggered a response in him of one kind or another. If he couldn’t conquer it, at least he had to learn to hide it. He stood very still, steeling himself. Time to take back the controls, all the way around. Otherwise he was going to turn into a mushy mess. And that couldn’t happen.
Shelley was floundering. She had no idea what was going on with Rafe. He was acting so weird. He probably hated her.
And why not? She’d never liked him much.
Of course, there had been that New Year’s Eve party when they had both had a little too much to drink. He’d hung around making caustic comments and she’d given as good as she got—but when midnight came, he’d kissed her. The surprise of that kiss had shocked them both and they’d drawn apart unable to look each other in the eye. If it had been anyone else, that kiss might have launched a torrid affair. But since it was the two of them, they hadn’t spoken to each other since—until this weekend. The fact was, any sort of civil relationship between them just wasn’t meant to be.
Sighing, she looked out at the water, enjoying the bobbing lights reflected there. A slight breeze pressed the lacy fabric of her skirt against her legs.
“I love San Antonio,” she murmured, mostly to herself as she drew her shawl closer around her shoulders.
He turned to look at her, then looked away again.
“Funny how it used to seem like this huge city when I was young,” he said. “Now it seems more like an overgrown small town.”
“That’s what I like about it. You can wrap your arms around it and become a part of it so easily.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I like small towns. In fact, it’s cities I hate.”
She bit her tongue. If he was going to make everything into an argument, she just wouldn’t talk anymore.
The silence stretched between them. She risked a quick look his way. His attention was on the other side of the river, giving her an opportunity to study him for a moment. He had a rugged, masculine appeal, untamed and proud of it. Pure Texas. She remembered he’d always looked so very good riding a horse.
But that was then. And remember, she’d never liked him much. She had to keep that in mind at all times.
Suddenly, as though there had been no pause in their conversation, he spoke softly.
“My mom brought me to San Antonio for a weekend one November when I was a kid, to see the Christmas lights on the river.”
That surprised her, and not only because he was talking like a normal person for a change. “Just you? Not any of the others?” There were plenty of Allmans.
He shook his head. “Just me. I was about thirteen and she thought I needed something special. I think she was trying to make up for the fact that Pop was making it pretty plain that he considered Matt his fair-haired child and thought of me as good for nothing much.”
He stopped, frowning fiercely. Why the hell was he telling her all this? Of all people, she was the last…
But maybe it was because they’d known each other forever, practically grown up side by side. Too bad he couldn’t just think of her as a sister. But the feeling that swelled in him whenever he looked at her had nothing to do with brotherly love. So he had better stop looking.
“You were her favorite,” she said softly.
“Me?” That startled him. When he thought of his mother, he remembered a warm smile and a feeling of peace. She was just about perfect in his book. No one could ever touch her. It still hurt to know she was gone. “Nah. She didn’t have favorites. She was good to everyone.”
Shelley nodded. “She was a wonderful woman and she died much too young.” Reminders of that awful time, when Jodie’s sweet mother was dying of complications from heart surgery, made her wince. “But believe me, she had a special soft spot for you.”
He turned to look at her, frowning. “You were just a kid. You paid attention to things like that?”
She couldn’t hold back a smile. “Of course.”
His gaze lingered, then he turned away and her smile drooped.
But he’d unlocked a lot of memories. She’d spent so much time at that house, with that family, probably because she didn’t have much of a family herself. All she had was her always busy single mother. No one else. Millie avoided any talk about who her father was, so she’d made one up for herself. Tall, handsome, kind and loving, he was ideal—though he tended to evaporate into mist whenever she tried to reach out to him. That was the trouble with fantasy fathers.
So that really didn’t fill the lonely hole in her heart. She’d prayed every night for a brother or sister, until she’d finally gotten old enough to begin to understand why that wouldn’t ever happen. So she’d attached herself to the Allmans.
“You seem to have grown up okay despite losing your mother,” she told Rafe now. “And being left to the untender mercies of your father.”
He shrugged. “Pop’s okay.”
That almost made her angry. It wasn’t the way she remembered things.
“He can’t hit you anymore, can he?” she said softly. “You’re bigger than he is now.”
He reacted as though she’d said something crazy.
“What? Ah come on, he never hit me all that much.”
He turned to lean with his back against the railing, his arms crossed over his chest. This was something no one would ever understand. His father had always been rough on him. But that only made the times he came through and surprised the old man all the more satisfying.
“Anyway, that was the way his generation dealt with things. Say what you want about Pop, he’s a man of his time.”
She shook her head, wondering how he could defend the man. Jesse Allman was a character, a legend around their hometown of Chivaree, Texas. A hardscrabble sort of guy, he’d managed to work his much-scorned family out of poverty and up into dizzying success. He was a genius in his own way, and adept at turning his life around and making something of himself. But he hadn’t been a gentle father.
“You wouldn’t hit a child, would you?”
He gave her a look of weary resignation. “It’s called spanking, Shelley. And no, I don’t suppose I would do that. How about you?”
She shrugged. “I’m never going to have children.”
He stared at her, then shook his head. “Going for that big career in the sky, are you?”
For some reason, she felt like shivering. Was she really considered a career woman now? Oh, well, she supposed that was better than some things she might be called.
“Something like that,” she admitted reluctantly.
He turned back to look at the water. “You’re doing pretty well. I’ve heard good things about your work from Clay in Legal.”
Clay Branch, her supervisor in the legal division, another bothersome man in her life. “Maybe if I do a good job at this competition, Clay will finally pay some attention to my requests to get management training.”
“You want to be a manager?”
“I want to move up in my field. And that’s pretty much my only avenue, don’t you think?”
“Maybe so.” He grinned. “I guess that’s why you’re jumping at the chance to boss me around, huh?”
“I didn’t set up the framework for this competition.” She gazed at him challengingly. “But I’m not running from it, either. Do you feel threatened by that, Mr. Boss Man?”
Rafe didn’t respond but he moved restlessly, indicating he was ready to walk on, and she obliged. They passed a small club. Pieces of acoustic guitar music floated out into the night. The crowd was thinning out and the lights were not quite so bright in this direction.
“You used to live here in San Antonio, didn’t you?”
She nodded, feeling suddenly wary. It was not a period of her life she relished discussing. “Not for long,” she murmured, looking away.
“And you worked for Jason McLaughlin during that time, didn’t you?”
His question hit her like a slap in the face and she gasped softly. She sneaked a quick look at him. How much did he know?
Back in Chivaree, the McLaughlins were the family who founded and ran the town, and the Allmans were the outcasts. Things had changed over the last decade, and now the Allmans were riding high, running a company that was putting the McLaughlins into the shadows.
But the old legends still hung on. The McLaughlins were considered legitimate. The Allmans were the outlaws. And the two families had always hated each other.
So it was a big deal for Shelley, who had grown up identifying with the Allmans, to have worked for a McLaughlin. In many quarters, that would be considered the move of a traitor. Looking back, she considered it the move of a crazy person, a woman who had temporarily lost her mind and good sense. It certainly wasn’t something she bragged about, or wanted to remember fondly.
“That was a long time ago,” she said evasively.
“Only a little over a year, isn’t it?” He stopped, hands shoved into his pockets and looked at her searchingly. “So I guess this will be a reunion of sorts for you.”
Her heart was thumping in her chest and she reached up to finger her gold necklace nervously. “What are you talking about?”
“I just noticed it on the roster. McLaughlin Management is in the competition.” His stare was hard and penetrating. “Jason is here. Didn’t you know?”
“No, I didn’t know.” She wanted to reach out for something to lean on but she knew she couldn’t allow herself that luxury. This was something she hadn’t prepared for. She knew Jason’s business was doing very well, but they had never entered the competition before. Why did they have to decide to start now?
“Or is that exactly why you asked to be included in the team even though you had your turn last year?”
She looked into his face, bewildered. Did he really think she wanted a chance to get close to Jason McLaughlin again?
Then he knew—or at least suspected—about her past relationship with the man. That was embarrassing.
Still, a lot of people knew, so why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t anything she was proud of. And she certainly didn’t yearn for a repeat performance, if that was what he was implying. Anger shivered through her.
“Don’t worry, Rafe. I won’t be taking time off from the competition to dally with our competitors. We’ll put up a good fight for your beloved trophy.”
She started to stomp off but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“Shelley, don’t act like I’m all alone in this. Of all people, you should understand. We both come from dirt-poor backgrounds. We know what it’s like to scramble for a little dignity.”
She turned her face away, unwilling to join him in this, even rhetorically, as he went on.
“We’re not like the McLaughlins, either one of us. No silver spoons for us. We fight for every inch. So I think you understand me when I say we’ve got to win this thing. And a good part of the satisfaction in that will be beating the McLaughlins.”
“Beating the McLaughlins,” she echoed softly.
“Sure. They’ve always got the establishment behind them. We’re the little guy. We have to try harder.”
That was Rafe to a T—always trying harder. Always trying to show his father that he could be good at things. And the funny thing was, he was very good at just about everything. Too bad Jesse Allman never seemed to notice.
But she didn’t want to waste her time feeling empathy for Rafe. He was studying her reaction and she knew it. He wanted to know that she was on the side of Allman Industries, that she wasn’t going to defect to the enemy. Rebelliously she refused to give him that comfort.
She looked out at the water again. “I thought maybe, now that Jodie is marrying Kurt McLaughlin, the feud between your two families would begin to fade away.”
His mouth hardened. “The feud will begin to fade away when the McLaughlins stop being coldhearted bastards. Except for Kurt, of course. He’s always been different from the rest of them.”
She nodded. She had to agree on that score. Kurt had started working at Allman Industries some months before, despite a lot of resistance and bitterness from his own family. And when Jodie had come home to work there, too, a romance between the two of them had quickly blossomed.
Shelley loved Jodie and wished her the best, but she had to admit she was a little worried at first about the McLaughlin angle to it all. Her own experience told her that all the years of antagonism between the two families was based on more than pure spite.
She was still thinking about the McLaughlins as they started to walk back toward the hotel. There had been a time when she’d been so in love with Jason McLaughlin she could hardly see straight. And maybe that was why she didn’t realize what a jerk he was until it was too late.
No. Wait. That wasn’t really fair.
Jason hadn’t been so much a jerk as she herself had been blind and hopelessly naive. She hadn’t known he was married at first. From what she learned later, the marriage was stormy—with the two of them separated more often than they were together. She had started dating Jason during one of those separations. Still, only a fool would have believed his lies about it being over for good. Anyone with half a brain should have seen where things were headed. Only, she had been too overwhelmed by the chance to be with Jason. She had a brain, she just hadn’t used it. She still cringed when she remembered the day his wife had returned to find Shelley ensconced in their apartment. The bitter contempt in the woman’s eyes had been like a brand on her soul. And she knew she deserved every bit of that scorn.
“So I know you’re going to cooperate here. Right?”
He wanted reassurance. Well, too bad. At this point she wasn’t sure he deserved it. Looking at him, she made a face.
“Are you still obsessed with being number one all the time, Rafe? Is that all life is to you, always winning?”
“What’s wrong with winning? It’s better than being a loser.” His dark gaze raked over her sardonically. “Or maybe you prefer losers?”
“Not really. I’d say I prefer people of goodwill.”
He started to say something, then stopped himself and shook his head. “Goodwill, huh? Hey, I’m dripping with it.”
“Really?” The picture that conjured up almost made her laugh. She raised her eyebrows instead, then smiled faintly and made a grand gesture with her hand. “Perhaps I should clarify. I prefer people with a broader scope,” she said, purposefully making it sound snooty.
“Oh.” She was happy to see amusement begin to bubble in his gaze. “Broad scope, eh? Excuse me while I adjust my cravat.”
She gestured again, chin in the air. “You’re excused. Carry on.”
“Such graciousness. You put me to shame.”
She smiled impishly. “Then my work here is done.”
A faint grin actually appeared on his face. “Oh, no, honey. I’m going to be more of a challenge than you can imagine.”
Her breath caught in a little hiccup in her throat and she blinked to cover it up. “That’s a little scary. I can imagine a lot.” She flashed him a look. “I’ll clarify even further. I prefer men with a little sophistication.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I suppose what you really prefer is Jason McLaughlin.”
Her head whipped around and she glared at him. To her complete shock, he actually looked chagrined.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “That was a low blow.”
“You should know,” she said tartly. “You’re the king.”
“Of low blows?”
“And other assorted indignities.”
“Indignities.” He mocked the way she’d said the word, humor softening the edges. “Gettin’ sorta high falutin with your language there, girl. I knew you way back when we were both prairie rats. You can’t fool me.”
He was teasing her, but in a gentle way, not the way he used to when they were young. If he didn’t watch out, she was going to start to like him.
“Maybe you can’t be fooled,” she said. “But at the same time, you can be persuaded. You’re a smart guy. You know there’s nothing wrong with reaching for something a little higher.”
A boisterous bunch of young people was headed straight for them. Reaching out, he put a hand at the nape of her neck, guiding her with a protective touch as the youngsters passed.
“Just as long as you don’t forget where you came from,” he murmured.
The feel of his hand on her skin was seductive and she felt a lazy sense of warmth seeping into her system. Taking a quick step to the side, she managed to pull away as she pretended to need the room to turn and face him.
“Well, look at you,” she said earnestly. “You were in a business suit this afternoon. You had on a tie and everything. Your shirt was crisp and white and your slacks had a great crease. You looked wonderful. Your father never looked like that in his life.”
His face twisted into a thoughtful frown. “So I’m aiming for a higher place just like you think I oughta, just by wearing a suit?” He gave her a look of pure exasperation. “Listen, Shelley. Nobody ever worked harder to make a ‘higher place’ in this world than my father did.”
“Except maybe my mother,” she shot back. “How do you think she managed to run Millie’s Café on her own? Nobody handed her anything.”
A reluctant grin began to surface again on his handsome face. “Well…my pop can outhustle your mom.”
Her chin went out. “Cannot.”
His eyes twinkled. “Can, too.”
She smiled back, just barely, flashing her eyes at him. “Well…maybe. But he can’t cook like she can.”
He nodded. “You got me there.”
They were back in front of the hotel. Without saying a word, they both paused. Neither seemed anxious to go in. She turned to look at him and he met her gaze.
“So you swear you didn’t come to the conference because of McLaughlin?” he demanded.
She hesitated, then held up her hand like a Girl Scout. “I swear to you. I probably wouldn’t have come myself if I’d known he was going to be here.”
He nodded slowly as though thinking that over. “So tell me…why did you come? Just what is your ulterior motive?”
She couldn’t keep meeting his gaze after that. Because the truth was, “ulterior motive” was a good phrase for her purpose. She had agreed to come at the last minute, knowing it would give her an opportunity she wouldn’t otherwise have to do a little detective work that needed to be done. But she couldn’t tell Rafe about that. To do so would involve telling a secret that wasn’t hers to share.
Taking in a deep breath, she raised her gaze to his again. “You know, there are some things that are just plain private,” she said firmly, though her pulse gave a nervous flutter as she noted his reaction. “My reasons have nothing to do with the business,” she added. “And anyway, you have no right to ask me.”
“You won’t tell me.” He looked astonished at her defiance.
She shook her head and shrugged, her palms out. “You have no need to know.” It was only the truth. Why couldn’t he accept it and move on?
His eyes looked very dark in the lamplight. “You realize that means I can’t put my suspicions to rest.”
She turned her head so fast her long silky hair whipped around her shoulders. He was being impossible. But then, that was his nature, wasn’t it? She’d almost forgotten with him seeming so approachable.
“Then you just suspect away all you want, honey,” she told him with her thickest Texas drawl. “As long as you do a good job for me tomorrow. Because for the time being, I…am…the…boss.” With a look daring him to dispute what she’d said, she whirled and strode for the elevators.
Chapter Three
In the morning, the first person Shelley saw as she stepped off the elevator on the lobby floor was the very man she dreaded seeing—Jason McLaughlin.
“Shelley. It’s been a long time.” The tall blue-eyed man in the Italian silk suit stepped forward and took both her hands in his, smiling down at her. “You look wonderful.”
For a moment she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to speak. Did he know her well enough to see the turmoil her heart was in? Did he notice the tightness around her mouth, the panic in her eyes?
Probably not. After all, there was no real evidence that he had ever known much of anything about her, that he had ever really cared. She’d warmed his bed and kept his apartment picked up. That was all he’d ever really wanted, wasn’t it?
On the other hand, she’d spent all of her teenage years watching everything he ever did. She’d even kept a notebook about him, hidden under her mattress and only brought out late at night to write some new secret in. Saw Jason at the feed store this afternoon. He had holes in his jeans and looked so cool. He turned my way and I almost had a heart attack. But he walked right by. I don’t think he saw me.
He was her one and only teenage crush, and when she moved to San Antonio after college and got a job in his firm, she was in seventh heaven. And then he actually noticed her, picked her out to be his special assistant, and very quickly, his special girl. It was like a dream come true. Until she woke up.
“Jason,” she said, finding her voice at last. “I’m surprised to find you here. I would have thought this would be a bit too bourgeois for you.”
“Don’t be silly,” he said, beaming at her. “This conference has become the highlight of the business year in San Antonio. We came to win the competition.” He laughed lightly, his white teeth flashing
Sharks have white teeth, too, she thought a bit wildly. Translation: beware!
Aloud she said, “Good luck. We’re hoping for a good result as well.” But she felt as though she were in deep water and in danger of losing her grip on the surface with predators circling.
He still had hold of one of her hands and he tried to tug her a bit closer. Looking down dreamily into her eyes in a way that would once have sent her reeling, he said coaxingly, “Listen, we’re both on our way to breakfast, aren’t we? Come have it with me. We’ll get a booth. We need to catch up on old times.”
She opened her mouth to respond, planning to put him in his place with a well-chosen word or two. But she wasn’t quick enough, because suddenly Rafe was there, sliding his arm around her shoulders.
“Sorry, McLaughlin,” he said coolly. “I’ve already got her booked up. You’re out of luck.”
“Rafe.” Jason’s face changed completely, but only for a moment. Very quickly he had his smooth, cultured mask on again. “I would make a crack about bad pennies, but that would be rude.”
“Go ahead and be as rude as you like,” Rafe told him evenly. “We’re all such old friends. You can be yourself around us if you like.”
Jason had a faint smile that didn’t warm his eyes at all. “Have a nice day,” he said, sarcasm coloring his tone as he turned away.
“We will,” Rafe promised, tightening his hold on Shelley’s shoulders as he began to lead her toward the breakfast area.
She went willingly enough, but her nerves were jangling and she pushed his arm away. The hostess indicated a table big enough to take the others as they arrived. Shelley turned and faced Rafe as they approached it.
“I could have handled that myself, you know,” she said.
“I have no doubt about it,” he said smoothly, escorting her into her seat at the table. “If you’d wanted to.”
Her eyes widened. He really didn’t trust her. She leaned forward, looking at him across the table. “Are you accusing me of something here?” she demanded.
He smiled thinly, then picked up the huge menu and began to peruse it. “I’m not going to tolerate any traitors on our team,” he said from behind it. “Just giving you fair warning.”
“Rafe Allman….” She clenched her hands into fists on the table. “You…you make me so mad!”
He looked around the menu as though surprised. “No reason for anger, Shelley. Don’t you get it?”
He dropped the menu and reached out to grab one of her hands. “The fact that we strike sparks off each other should be a plus for us. It’s great for creativity. It produces a tension that can help us create a dynamic that will blow everyone else in this competition away.”
She blinked at him. “Either that, or we’ll kill each other.”
He nodded. “That’s always a possibility, of course.”
But his eyes were smiling and she couldn’t resist smiling back for just a moment. Then she pulled her hand away from his and reached for her own menu.
“Don’t bother,” he said. “I know what I’m ordering for you.”
“What?”
“Dollar-size blueberry pancakes with cherry syrup and sausages.”
She stared at him, dumbfounded. He looked up at her, and she almost thought he was half embarrassed.
“Listen, I remember how you used to pack it away on Saturday mornings when Rita would cook a big breakfast for us all.”
Rita was the big sister, the oldest daughter in the Allman clan. “She cooked enough for half the neighborhood it seemed sometimes,” she murmured, remembering.
He nodded. “Anyway, you always loved those little round pancakes and that thick cherry syrup.”
How funny that he remembered that. A wave of nostalgia swept over her and she smiled. “Those were the days before I had to start watching my figure.”
“Hey, I’ll watch your figure for you. No problem at all. And I’ll let you know if I notice anything going wrong with it.”
She sighed. “Now you’re starting to disappoint me. That is such a lame joke.”
“Who’s joking?” He said it softly, his eyes burning.
The waitress arrived at their table, pouring them both cups of steaming coffee, and Rafe ordered for them. Shelley was too involved in thinking over what he’d just said and the way he’d looked to remember that she’d planned to stop him from ordering pancakes for her. And then it was too late and she decided to let it go.
She looked at him a bit warily. He looked back. She searched for something to say.
“Well. Ready for the big day?”
He grunted and took a sip of scalding coffee, making a face as it burned his tongue.
“The workshops last until noon,” she said, talking quickly to fill the silence. “We’ll meet for lunch in the Tapa Grill and then our group will adjourn to my room to decide on our plan. I’ve got some really interesting ideas.”
“Do you?” He looked surprised.
“Yes, I do.”
He shrugged. “I’ve got a few ideas of my own. Some pretty great ideas. I guess it will be the battle of the ideas. We’ll see whose ideas come out on top.”
She made a face. He was making this sound like some sort of monster truck rally or something. “I think mine are pretty good.”
He nodded, his dark gaze searching her face. “‘Pretty good’,” he echoed mockingly. “You see, there’s your problem, Shelley, ‘Pretty good’ is not going to win this competition. ‘Over-the-top pretty damn sensational’ might have a chance.” He shook his head, stabbing a fork into the air. “This is what worries me. You don’t have the killer instinct.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I should hope not.”
“But don’t you get it? The killer instinct is going to be bottom-line imperative to win this.”
“Oh, stop being so melodramatic. We’re going to do just fine.”
He stared at her for a moment, then groaned, throwing his head back. “Shelley, Shelley, Shelley. You’ve got to toughen up, girl. You cringe at the sight of blood. Metaphorically speaking. You can’t go for the throat, regardless. You’re not ready, willing and able to wage all-out war on everyone and everything that gets in your way.” His penetrating gaze stung. “And I am.” He sat back, looking infuriatingly pleased with himself. “You’d better leave this to me.”
She had to bite her tongue for a moment, and even count to ten. She didn’t want to start screeching at him. That would be embarrassing, especially with Jason McLaughlin sitting across the room, watching every move they made.
“You go ahead and give advice to the B group,” she said at last. “You are the highest ranking officer from Allman Industries. You have a right to manage us all you want. But as for our group, for the next four days, I’m the boss. You’re going to do what I say, Rafe Allman.”
He looked at her with heavily lidded eyes. “Is this some kind of payback?”
“Payback!” She rolled her eyes. “You are such an infuriating man. You really think it’s all about you, don’t you?”
“Well, isn’t it?”
She stared at him for a long moment. He really meant it.
“You know, you’re right. This is payback.” She leaned forward again, speaking earnestly. “It’s payback for the time you put green food coloring in the shampoo while Jodie and I were swimming and we ended up with green hair—and green faces and green hands.”
His eyebrows knit together as he recalled the incident. “I must admit, I hadn’t thought that through very well when I did it.” Still, he grinned. “But you two sure did look funny.”
She wasn’t going to concede that. She wasn’t going to concede anything to him anymore.
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