A Sweet Deal (Crimson Romance) (2 page)

Richard blew out a sharp breath. “Believe it or not, I don’t consider my life ruined just because I’m divorced. I’m perfectly happy concentrating on work right now, and that’s all that really matters to me.” Eager to move the focus away from marriage, he guided the conversation back to the acquisition. “And right now, I’m concerned. Saffron must be really serious about winning you over if Yvette’s in the picture. I’ve heard they don’t send her in unless it’s critical.”

Yvette Cruz was Saffron’s nearly foolproof secret weapon when it came to acquiring divisions like his, and her involvement meant that things were spiraling out of his control. Rumor had it that she was beautiful, seductive, and incredibly persuasive, and knowing his father’s penchant for gorgeous, younger women had Richard on high alert.

“Yvette has been in for a few meetings, yes, but you know, I’m very happy with the woman I’m seeing. She’s a sharp businesswoman. She loves the new hard candies—especially the champagne lollipops—and it wouldn’t hurt to strike a deal with them before they figure out that we’ve got nothing new coming down the pipe. They think we’re a good fit for their brand, and we could push into the organic pet food market with the money we save cutting the dead weight of confections.” He took a sip of water from the crystal tumbler sitting in front of him, ice tinkling against the sides.

“Dad, I don’t think the confections division is dead weight. It’s going through a slump, sure, but the champagne lollipops have increased interest in the brand. Once we develop something with similar impact, we’ll be back in the black before we know it. I just need time. Selling to Saffron feels like giving up.”

Morgan Confectioners had introduced their all-time bestselling product earlier in the year and posted their biggest sales in a decade, though it wasn’t quite enough to justify the money they poured into the division. They were funneling money into research and development at unprecedented rates, trying to build on the momentum the champagne lollipops had started. Why his father couldn’t see the unlimited potential ahead of them, refused to see how much a few more successful products could change things, boggled his mind.

“Well, if you’re that opposed to Saffron, then you know what you have to do,” his father said, a sly grin replacing the kindly smile. “If you’re interested in my proposal—so to speak—then as soon as you’re engaged, I will formally suspend talks of a merger with Saffron. Once you’re legally married, I will turn over Morgan Confectioners to you.”

Richard regarded his father and weighed the offer, considering his options. Excitement welled up at the thought of gaining outright control of Morgan Confectioners. The company was his passion, his one true love, and to have it so close, within his grasp, was a thrilling prospect.

Finding a woman who would agree to the marriage would be easy. Chelsea had proven that well enough. He’d married her for love, but it wasn’t a full year before her true colors shone through. She’d been far more interested in the Morgan name and the money that went with it than with a loving marriage.

Richard had always depended on his ability to read people, to navigate situations by relying on his intuition. To have his marriage be little more than a deception rattled him terribly, landing a complete blow to his confidence. When it came to work, he always knew where he stood, what he wanted, but he doubted he’d ever be able to trust his judgment again when it came to romance.

Most of the events he attended for his charitable involvements or for business required dates, but that was as far as things went. Mentally flipping through the current selection of women he was seeing, Richard wondered if he’d actually be able go through with marrying any of them. He wouldn’t do to someone else what Chelsea had done to him. No, he’d have to find a woman who stood to benefit as much as he would from the arrangement.

Or he could actually choose someone and attempt a real relationship. Right now, that was the last thing he was interested in. He’d finally reached the point after his divorce where the thought of spending time with a woman didn’t turn his stomach, but there was no way in hell he was going to marry one. His marriage to Chelsea taught him one thing: he couldn’t recreate the idyllic nuclear family of his childhood just because he wanted to. He’d have to figure something else out.

Richard pushed his chair back and stood as his father did the same. “Obviously I’ll have to think about it, but I’ll let you know what I decide. If you could hold off on making any moves with Saffron until after we return from Vegas, I would appreciate it. I’m sure Ms. Cruz will be at the conference, trying to sink her claws into you, but it will be near impossible for me to concentrate with this is on my mind.”

His father straightened his jacket. “You should take a meeting with her. You might surprise yourself and actually like her. She’s much less bloodthirsty than you seem to think. But of course I’ll hold off on giving her an answer.” He stood up. “I plan on enjoying the conference this year and hope you’ll do the same. I haven’t even looked at the events schedule since the packet landed on my desk, but we’ll have to at least grab a drink together. See you in Las Vegas.”

His father left, and Richard was alone in the opulent conference room. He slipped his hands in his pockets and looked out the window over the city skyline, the possibilities spreading out before him. Michael’s somewhat indecent proposal would have to wait. The National Confectioners Association Conference was being held in Las Vegas this weekend, and it was the biggest, most important industry event of the year. Vegas was one of Richard’s favorite cities in the world and he was looking forward to the conference even more than usual this year. With any luck, he’d make the necessary appearances and still have plenty of time to hit the casino. A little harmless gambling was just what he needed. It was good to be on top, and Richard intended to enjoy every moment of the conference.

• • •

Yvette brought the crystal flute of champagne to her lips as she shifted from one foot to the other. Her stilettos were gorgeous, absolute works of art, but they were little more than exquisite torture devices for her feet. After rushing between meetings and workshops all day, the pain was almost unbearable. Still, it would be a cold day in hell when she showed up at a conference in sensible shoes.

The elegant guests in the crowded hospitality suite laughed and chattered, as uniformed waiters served trays of elaborate appetizers and flutes of sparkling champagne. Industry events were absolutely necessary, but always such a bore. So little actually got accomplished until the conference was over and everyone was back at work, but the networking opportunities and connections one made were priceless. Yvette struggled to focus on the balding, paunchy man at her side droning on and on about how his company could help Saffron expand beyond chocolates, and why they were the perfect corporate match. She would give anything to meet someone interesting at one of these events for once, regardless of how they could help her career. Discreetly scanning the room, Yvette occasionally inserted what she hoped were appropriate sounds into the conversation and wished for a reprieve.

Her eyes settled on a vaguely familiar figure across the room. Richard Morgan swirled amber liquid in a cut crystal tumbler, looking as bored as she felt. The pictures she’d seen didn’t do him justice. Images in print and online couldn’t capture the sense of magnetism that surrounded him. That chiseled jawline, those striking green eyes, the way he seemed to command respect while completely at ease. She laid a gentle hand on her companion’s forearm and flashed him a bright smile.

“Will you excuse me? I have somewhere I need to be.” Without waiting for a reply, Yvette locked eyes with Richard and sashayed across the room as quickly as her delicate four-inch stiletto heels would allow. Now
this
could be interesting.

“Richard Morgan? Hi, I’m Yvette Cruz.” She extended her hand to him and gave him her most professional smile. Good lord, he was handsome. She leaned in, close enough to smell his sophisticated fragrance, something lush and velvet, indefinable.

“I know who you are.” His green eyes met hers in a steady gaze, and his expression gave nothing away. He didn’t take her hand, and she let it drop to her side.

Yvette rearranged her features to hide her disappointment and paused for a beat, letting his icy reaction settle between them. She couldn’t let him see that he had ruffled her. Shifting her weight to one leg, she pushed her shoulders back a bit, and dropped her chin so that she looked up at him through lowered lashes. “I’m so glad to finally meet you, though after spending so much time with your father, I feel like I know you already.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Ms. Cruz.” His voice was low and deep, carefully controlled.

“Please, call me Yvette. No need for such formality.” She laughed to break the tension and touched his arm. He flinched, almost imperceptibly, and kept his expression neutral. He was going to make her work for every word he uttered, but Yvette was never one to shy away from a challenge. Especially one this sexy.

He remained silent, so she continued. “I was hoping that we’d bump into one another here. I’ve been to the Morgan offices to meet with your father, but I could never quite catch up with you.” His father never said yes to her proposals, but he was always glad to see her, was always welcoming and charming. Her encounters with Michael had been so pleasant that Richard’s stonewall treatment blindsided her.

He took a sip of his drink and let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yes, I’ve seen you slinking around my father’s office. You could have easily contacted my office to schedule a meeting with me, but I have a feeling that’s not your style.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just get the impression that you’d rather flirt with my father to get what you want than to deal with me directly. He’s a sucker for a beautiful woman, but I am a bit more difficult to manipulate.” He leveled her with a steely gaze. His eyes were intense, gorgeous, but filled with contempt.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve never flirted with your father, and that’s not how I operate. Michael has always been charming and polite, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone. Our meetings have been strictly professional, unlike this conversation, and I resent the implication. It’s not like I’m angling to become the fourth Mrs. Michael Morgan.” She scoffed, a very unladylike sound, but his insinuation was unbelievable. Her instinct was to lash out, to defend her hard-won reputation and her professionalism, but Yvette took care to rein in her rising irritation, to keep her exterior controlled and cool. She wouldn’t let him goad her into losing her temper. “I don’t know why you’d expect me to schedule a meeting with you anyway. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you’re not interested in the proposal. If my understanding is correct, your father is still the head of Morgan Confectioners.” He took a small step back, apparently not prepared for her to call him out.

He paused for a beat before shaking his head, as though shaking off the remark. “He won’t be in charge forever, Ms. Cruz, and unfortunately for you, he’s taking my opinion on this matter under consideration. You’re right, though. Meeting with me would be unnecessary as I have no interest in allowing Morgan Confectioners to be swallowed up by Saffron, and my answer will always be ‘no’ regardless of the offer. We’re doing just fine on our own.”

Yvette’s lips formed a conciliatory smile. Morgan Confectioners was a sinking ship, and Saffron was itching to throw it a life vest. Richard was determined to deny that the other divisions were keeping it on life support, for whatever reason. She had to maintain control, show him that he couldn’t rattle her with hostility. Time to kill him with kindness and professionalism, as she had a deal to broker. “Everyone would agree that Morgan Enterprises is doing fine, but your confections division is another story. You’ve got something we want, and I think we’d make a good team. What we’re proposing would be good for everyone.”

“You could dip that offer in your company’s finest chocolate, and I still wouldn’t bite.”

He practically snarled, but she laughed. She had to admire his determination, as foolish as it seemed. “I assure you this is a sweet deal, even unembellished. We do pride ourselves on having the country’s finest chocolate, though, and I’d be happy to send you some.”

“Ms. Cruz,” he said, adding emphasis on each syllable “I will never, under any circumstances, surrender on this issue.”

“I can’t decide if you sound more like a soap opera villain or a petulant child. Why can’t we discuss this like adults, like professionals?”

“Because there’s nothing to discuss.”

“Have you even read our proposal? I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts, and I’d be happy to address any concerns you might have. At this stage, nothing is set in stone, and if there’s something specific that you take issue with, I’d love to discuss it.”

“No, I haven’t read your proposal, and I’m not going to. I don’t need to read it to know that I don’t want Saffron’s slick, generic mark on the products I love.”

Now he went too far. Brand popularity didn’t equal inferior product, and she wouldn’t let Richard Morgan throw her off her game. “Saffron is known all over the country for our chocolate, and unlike Morgan, we’re flourishing in a down economy.” She flashed him a cool smile. “People love what we offer, and there’s no reason to think we can’t expect the same success with rebranded Morgan products.”

“I’d rather be smaller but offer superior quality, rather than carelessly mass-producing and underpricing my competitors.”

“And that’s why your other divisions are outperforming confections by millions of dollars each year.” She asserted sharply.

His eyebrow raised, and he sized her up with a narrowed gaze. Yvette shifted her weight, staring back and refusing to stand down as the tension strummed between them. “Touché, Ms. Cruz,” he finally replied. Did the corner of his lips actually rise in a semblance of a smile or was that a trick of the low ballroom lighting?

“Listen, having wider distribution and a bigger marketing campaign doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice quality. People in this country are still interested in originality and innovation. They just like buying from a brand they know, and they want it at a good price.”