The Boss's Surprise Son (5 page)

“Not at all.”

With a curious sense of letdown, she lowered her tray table and opened the hardback to page one. Luckily, the characters soon drew her into the action and before long she was caught up. Flying, Rick, the sound of him typing all faded to the background as she outright giggled at what she was reading.

Rick couldn’t sleep. Not with the soft scent of honey suckle tickling his senses, a constant reminder of the woman occupying his companion seat.

At least she finally slept. She’d read for a while, and had a great time of it, too, if the musical sound of her laughter was any indication.

He glanced at the book, wondering again what she found so amusing. Since she appeared dead to the world,
he reached for the book and read the front blurb—and then the first page.

An enjoyable hour had passed when he next looked at his watch. Stifling a yawn, he returned the book to where she’d had it stowed.

To stretch his legs he walked to the restroom at the far end of the plane. When he got back, he stood looking down on Savannah.

She sat half-turned toward him, a hand tucked under her cheek, so young, so sweet, so lovely. Cinnamon curls caressed creamy-white skin while dark lashes fanned over her cheeks. She shifted in her sleep and a pretty pink tongue swept over full, bare lips leaving them damp and as inviting as the smudge of chocolate above the corner of her mouth.

Fatigue must be getting to him because he wanted to lick her, first to eat the chocolate beckoning to him and next to taste the plump line of her lips, to sink inside and share the treat with her.

What on earth?

He rubbed his eyes. Pull it together, man.

To escape further temptation he slid into his seat and stared at the boring weave of the blue-and-gray fabric of the seat in front of him.

What had possessed him to bring her on this trip? He’d have been better off with someone from legal, someone fifty and comfortably thick.

Okay, so she’d been a great help prepping for the upcoming meeting, but she was still more optimistic than organized, totally unpredictable and distressingly
unafraid of anything. A little healthy trepidation would make her so much easier to control.

She had yet to meet a stranger. The woman made friends wherever she went.

When was the last time a woman had made him laugh? He couldn’t remember. More importantly, when had he become such a staid old man? So he cared about the business, cared about providing for his family. Did that have to mean he gave up on fun, gave up chasing all the enjoyable pursuits life had to offer?

Of course not. He determined to broaden his horizons when he got back. Spend more time with his brothers, read for pleasure and find a new woman friend.

Right. He closed his eyes and hoped by the time he got home—with the international deal sealed—the idea would hold more appeal.

The plane suddenly shook and then dropped, startling Rick out of a light doze. Instinctively, he grabbed the armrest before he even opened his eyes. His fingers closed around flesh and bone rather than hard plastic.

Savannah. Concerned, he glanced her way. She slept on but a slight furrow creased the fine porcelain of her brow. He pulled his hand back, granting her use of the armrest. She immediately became restless and the frown deepened.

He covered her hand again, twining his fingers with hers and she stilled and settled back into slumber.

She was as soft as he’d known she would be. Not that he allowed himself thoughts of her.

Another shake, a lift and then a sharp drop. Someone
screamed and Savannah came awake with a start. She blinked at him.

“What happened?” Husky from sleep, her voice stroked along fine nerves, causing the hair on the back of his neck to tingle in aroused awareness.

“Just a little turbulence.”

“So I didn’t dream a scream or that the plane was shaking?”

“Ladies and gentlemen.” A calm voice came over the public-announcement system. “We are experiencing some heavy turbulence and the pilot has turned on the seat-belt light. Please remain buckled in your seats until he turns off the seat-belt light. Thank you.”

Savannah’s trembling fingers tightened on his. “Are we going to be okay?”

“I’ve heard no plane has ever gone down because of turbulence.”

“Really?”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” he said reassuringly.

“Right. Oh, gosh.” They were thrown back in their seats as the aircraft dipped and swayed.

“It shouldn’t last long.” He sought to relieve her distress. “The pilot will try to get either above or below the problem area.”

“That would be good.” Her agitation showed in the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. “That would be really good.”

She fell silent as the plane continued to rock and roll. And he watched her to make sure she didn’t hyperventilate. White knuckles defined the clasp of their hands,
but neither fought to ease the hold one had on the other. He didn’t expect the plane to crash, but he wouldn’t deny he took comfort from the connection.

The flight evened out for about ten minutes, just long enough for everyone to begin to relax, when the shaking began again.

The drastic drop in altitude got to him, but the distressed whimper from the seat next to him was like a fist to the gut. Acting on impulse, he lifted the armrest between them and pulled her into his arms.

She clung to him and, lifting tearful eyes to his, pleaded, “Can’t you make it stop?”

In that moment he’d give anything to fix it, to bring the laughter back to her eyes. He couldn’t stop the turbulence, but perhaps he could take her mind off it.

“You have some chocolate on your face.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

“Right here.” He lowered his head and licked the corner of her mouth, sweeping the chocolate up with a flick of his tongue.

S
AVANNAH FELT AS IF
the plane had done a loop-the-loop, turning her world upside down. She went still as Rick’s mouth teased her, his tongue swirling over her skin.

Snug in the warm clasp of his arms, her existence narrowed to just the two of them. Strong and solid, he made her feel safe, protected. The scent of him, familiar and all male, surrounded her. And she wanted more of him; she wanted that mobile mouth on hers. But he continued to flick and nibble at the edge of her lips, close but not close enough.

With a low growl of need she turned her head and found his mouth with hers. Yum.

As if he’d been waiting for just that, he opened his mouth over hers and took control of the kiss, plundering her mouth with deft finesse, stealing her ability to think.

Sensation took over. Chocolate, hot and sweet, exploded over her tastebuds. She hummed with approval and met his tongue in a passionate tango of thrust and retreat. He lifted her, half pulling her into his lap,
only her seat belt hampering him from completing the action.

Oh, better. Looping her arms around his neck, she threaded her fingers through his short, mink-soft hair, holding him to her, drawing his essence in and giving herself back.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the pilot has turned off the seat-belt sign. You are now free to move about the cabin.”

The announcement washed over them like a bucket of cold water. They broke apart, and Savannah buried her face against Rick’s chest.

The world came rushing back—the plane, other passengers, the near-death experience. For a while none of it had mattered; now it all did.

She bit back a groan as her brain reengaged and she realized where she was. In the boss’s arms. This was not good, not good at all. It helped only slightly that Rick’s heartbeat matched the racing pace of her own.

How to extricate herself?

“Restroom.” She fumbled for her seat belt. “I’ve got to go.” Once she found the release, she bolted to her feet and escaped down the aisle. Luckily, there was a line of people waiting. Maybe it would last until they reached New York.

Five people and two hours to kill? Not even she was that optimistic. Which meant she’d have to sit next to him with the blood still speeding way too fast through her system. Thank goodness her jacket hid the aroused
state of her nipples because if it was cold in here, she didn’t feel it.

All too soon she was sitting in her seat again, her jacket wrapped around her, staring at the gray hair of the man seated in front of her while Rick focused his attention on the ceiling.

Not comfortable with being uncomfortable, she said, “Thank you. I was scared and you…helped me. It was very kind of you.”

He made a choking sound. “Don’t mention it. Please.”

“I wasn’t propositioning you.”

He turned his head slowly and pinned her with an intense stare. “What are you going on about now?”

“The other night at dinner when I asked about your dating rules. I wasn’t propositioning you.” She cleared her throat and dropped her eyes. “In case you think I’ve been throwing myself at you.”

“I didn’t.” He went back to his contemplation of the ceiling. “I don’t.”

Instead of reassuring Savannah, his simple dismissal struck a contrary chord. It wasn’t as if there was no chemistry between them. The last few minutes had proved that conclusively.

“Well, all right then.” She let silence fall between them, telling herself she should be glad to have that worry gone. But she couldn’t help herself. “Why not?”

Her pique must have sounded in her voice because he sighed.

“I know when I’m being propositioned. And flirting isn’t your style. You’re too straightforward.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me the rules?”

“Because there isn’t a hope in hell you’d ever abide by them.”

“I don’t know how you can know that,” she retorted, stung.

“The rules are about establishing personal boundaries to prevent expectations of a deeper relationship from forming. You have personal relationships with everyone.”

“Not everyone.”

“Everyone,”
he insisted. “Including the mail boy.”

“He goes to State, which is where my sister attends college. So yeah, we’ve chatted a few times.”

“What’s his girlfriend’s name?”

“Amber.”

“I rest my case.”

“That only proves I’m a good listener.”

“I’ve worked with Molly for twelve years and I don’t even know her daughter’s name.”

“Oh. Well.” His confession stunned her so she had no argument for him. “What was your point again?”

“That my rules aren’t meant for you.”

For a moment it sounded as if he meant that his rules didn’t apply to her, and a wild rush of pleasure bloomed in her. She quickly squashed it, first because she knew how he intended what he’d said, and second because he wasn’t for her.

Anyone who worked with someone for twelve years
and didn’t know something as intimate as her daughter’s name was too impersonal for Savannah.

She could never be with someone who believed that work was more important than people. And that described Rick to a T.

“You’re right,” she conceded. “Your rules aren’t for me.”

To Savannah’s relief the trip concluded without further incident and they arrived in London exhausted but ready for the upcoming meeting. After spending fifteen hours practically joined at the thigh with Rick, she was ready to retreat to her own room.

“Beautiful hotel,” she commented on the way to the elevator, admiring the large leather furnishings and dark woods amidst marble and crystal. “I see now why you were drawn to Crosse International.”

“What do you mean?” he asked as they boarded the elevator.

“The ambience. A modern feel in a traditional setting. You know, kind of a comfortable chic.”

Rick simply nodded and she wondered if he was even listening. Except for business, he’d kept conversation between them to a minimum ever since the embrace on the flight to New York.

Savannah closed her eyes and sighed at the thought of stretching out in a bed. She was
so
ready for some alone time.

“It reminds me of the store back home,” she muttered.

“What does?” Rick held the elevator door for her to exit.

“The hotel. Oh, we’re right here.” Savannah had never been so happy to reach a destination. She slid her key card into the slot. “See you in the morning.”

As she closed her bedroom door, she almost had herself convinced she was pleased by his impersonal attitude.

Almost.

So call her crazy. She wanted to have her cake and to eat it, too. Working so closely with Rick these last few days had twisted her emotions in a knot. His drive and dedication challenged her while his intelligence and dry sense of humor made the long hours speed by.

Not to mention every little touch tested her ability to remain unaffected, from the accidental brush of skin against skin to the warmth of his breath on her cheek as they bent over the proposed contract.

All in all, her feelings for him weren’t as easy to ignore as she’d hoped. And the awareness growing between them buzzed like static in the air.

But if he could pretend indifference to the passionate kiss they’d shared, so could she.

Right.

Savannah slept like the dead, waking only when her alarm went off. She showered and dressed in her navy suit with the gold scoop-neck blouse. She wanted to look good and the outfit made her feel confident and professional.

When she entered the parlor suite connecting her room to Rick’s, she found him already sitting at the dining table reading the paper. He’d ordered coffee along with an array of muffins, yogurt and fruit.

“Good morning,” he greeted her, his glance up from the paper slightly leery as if he feared what she might say, or perhaps it was that she might start chattering.

He needn’t worry; she liked to ease her way into the day. After helping herself to coffee and fruit, she took a discarded section of his paper and enjoyed the quiet and the view.

Having the meeting with Crosse in the hotel was convenient, allowing them to leave their room at ten to ten and simply ride the elevator down. But that was the end of her peaceful morning.

The meeting was the crash and burn they had narrowly missed the day before, or it would be if Savannah didn’t act fast.

True to form, Rick masterfully presented the numbers and projections, but his confidence and all-business approach came across as arrogant. Albert Crosse, a fit man in his early sixties, flanked by his two sons, listened but seemed restless. And the more Rick pushed, the further apart the two got.

She tried to catch Rick’s eye more than once, but he ignored her, so she took matters into her own hands.

“Mr. Crosse.” She spoke into a tense silence. “I was wondering which property you would suggest for the joint venture?”

Rick shot her a repressive glance. “Ms. Jones, this isn’t the time—”

“Please.” Crosse waved Rick off. “I don’t mind, though you must remember to call me Albert.”

“Of course, Albert.”

Short and compact, Crosse exuded a charm and charisma that exceeded his stature. His presence demanded attention, and, though his sons were present, it was obvious Crosse ruled.

He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. “Actually, I believe this property would be spot-on for your purposes. This location runs at seventy-five percent or more capacity for most of the year. We’ve already converted first-level offices into retail space and have leases with a full-service day spa and a coffeehouse. There are two more spaces available.”

Perfect. This was better than she’d hoped for when she’d taken the discussion off topic. A field trip would change the current dynamic and, she hoped, get the negotiations flowing again.

“Gracious, right here in the hotel? Can we go see the space? After the long flight yesterday and sitting most of the morning I’m a bit stiff and would welcome a chance to stretch my legs.”

“Ms. Jones—”

Savannah turned so only Rick could see her and silently mouthed, “We’re losing him.” Aloud, she said, “I know we have an appointment with the property manager later, but I’m sure Albert will be an excellent guide.”

“Splendid idea. It would be my pleasure.” Crosse talked right over Rick’s objections. “I’ll have the property manager meet us there. I was scheduled to inspect the conversions today, but agreed to take this meeting instead.”

“Will we have an opportunity to finish our meeting?” Rick asked as everyone stood.

“I have some thinking to do tonight,” Crosse advised him stiffly. “I’ll have my assistant call you with a time for tomorrow.”

When they reached the lobby, Crosse stopped to talk briefly with his sons who were taking this opportunity to break away.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rick demanded, pulling Savannah aside.

“We were losing him.” She moved to watch the Crosses so Albert couldn’t walk up on their conversation. “We needed a distraction.”

“That’s ludicrous.” He dismissed her claim. “This is a solid proposition.”

“Yes, but he was already sold on the numbers—you sold him on those before. And then you chose to go with someone else. Now he’s wondering what’s to keep you from jumping again if a better deal comes along.”

“Sullivans’ Jewels has a solid reputation. And we made concessions.”

“On paper.” How could such a brilliant man be so dense? “You are an exceptional business strategist, but in this instance you need to read the man. It’s a matter
of loyalty, of pride. Think how you’d feel if the situation were reversed.”

He frowned, but she’d caught his attention. Seeing Crosse’s conversation was breaking up, she stepped closer to Rick and lowered her voice. “You said I relate to everyone. Well, trust me on this. Let him know he can trust you.” Hooking her arm through his, she turned him toward Crosse. “And when we tour the space, don’t bring up the deal. Business is fine but stay away from anything personal. Connect with him on another level.”

She felt him stiffen before pulling away. “I think I know how to conduct myself with a business colleague.”

“Of course.” She stepped away, feeling awkward. What had she been thinking linking arms with him like that? She was his assistant, not his girlfriend. “Sorry. Go do your magic.”

Rick hated to admit it, but Savannah was right.

A good thing for her, because if she’d blown this deal she’d be gone, promise to Gram or no promise.

He’d known Crosse was antsy. Yet, instead of stopping to think it through and adapt to the situation, he’d let the man’s stoic response cause him to push harder.

Rick didn’t like being in this position. He was used to being the one making decisions, not the one waiting for the nod.

But more importantly, Savannah had hit the biggest issue on the mark. If the situation were reversed he’d want more than facts and figures thrown at him.
Despite any concessions tossed his way, he’d want to know Sullivans’ Jewels was more than a second choice. After all, they weren’t just talking about the lease of space; they were talking about partnering brands to broaden their demographics.

The insight made him stop and question himself. Had his goal become more important than the process? Was he rushing his decisions to meet his self-imposed deadline? If that were the case, he needed to stop now and reassess.

He kept his mind open to the possibilities as they toured the space with Crosse. His first impression was of the size. It was smaller than any of their other stores. But the prime location, right on the lobby, and accessibility to the old vault one story down were strong factors in its favor.

Because he agreed with the strategy, he heeded Savannah’s advice to avoid talk of the proposal except for renovations and contractors in general because Crosse brought them up. By the time they completed the tour, including visits to the spa and coffee store, he’d made a decision. The process and the goal were both right-on.

“Albert, thank you for your time.” He shook Crosse’s hand. “They say all things happen for a reason and in this case I need to agree. I originally went with Emerson because I thought their traditional image was a closer match for Sullivans’ Jewels. After staying here and talking with you and your sons, I see I was wrong.