Boardroom Seduction

by Anita Bunkley

  “Yeah. I’m about to give Kacey a tour of the plant,” Leon replied, shifting more fully into Kacey’s cubicle and away from Nona’s touch.

  Nona, who was holding a thick black binder in her other hand, followed him into the room. “Leon, I know you have a ton of things to take care of…with Mr. Archer leaving so sudden and all. Want me to show Kacey around, introduce her to the key people who’ll be involved in the production?”

  Leon tapped a finger on the corner of Kacey’s desk as if considering Nona’s suggestion. “No, that’s okay. I’ll show Kacey around.”

  “All right,” Nona replied, sounding a tad disappointed. She smiled at Kacey and shrugged. “Guess I’ll see you later.” Then she left the room in a swish of African print fabric.

  Turning to Kacey, Leon said, “Come on. Let’s go out on the floor and get acquainted with everyone. We’ve got a lot to cover today.”

  Seated at her desk, Nona tossed back her head, jutted out her bottom lip and glared at the ceiling. With her eyes squinted into long-lashed slits, she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. The swimsuit designer was much too attractive for Nona’s liking. A slick, sexy professional woman from New York City could become a real distraction.

  If Kacey Parker thinks Leon is gonna spend all his time fawning over her, she’s sadly mistaken. But at least she won’t be here that long, Nona decided, feeling a sweep of relief as she picked up a folder and got into her work for the day.

  Kacey and Leon entered the corridor leading to the heart of the plant, walking side by side while making small talk about the factory.

  “We pride ourselves on turning out high-quality items at competitive pricing levels,” Leon told Kacey as he touted his company’s track record with pride. “Our design capability and fabric quality is competitive with any name brand. Our motto, ‘We Suit Every Body’ is more than a catchy slogan. We mean it!”

  “How long has your family been in business?” Kacey wanted to know.

  “Fifty-two years.”

  “And you’ve been working here since…?”

  “Since forever, it seems. My dad made me start out at the bottom to learn the business from the ground up. My first real job was on the packing line…part-time while I was in high school,” Leon replied, in a voice laden with pride. “Worked right alongside Nona, who started here the same day.”

  “Oh, really? She’s been here that long?”

  “Oh, yeah. Most of my classmates worked here at one time or another. Especially during summer vacations. We worked hard, but goofed off a lot, too. As soon as we’d get off work, we used to head straight to the beach and go skinny dipping. We’d stay out on the beach all night sometimes.”

  “You all swam in the nude?” Kacey had to comment, imagining how fine Leon must have looked when he was younger, and buck naked. Not that he wasn’t fine now, because it was clear he took good care of himself.

  The smothered laughter that bubbled up from Leon’s throat was the only answer Kacey needed. “Sure. Why not?” he said. “We were young…friends just having fun. Nobody bothered us.” A beat. “Our favorite place to swim was Barker’s Bend. Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve thought about that.” Shaking his head, Leon turned into another hallway and escorted Kacey through a set of metal double doors.

  Kacey increased her pace to keep up with Leon, whose long strides were moving them along quickly. Anxious to keep him talking, she threw out the question she was burning to have answered. “So you and Nona have been friends a long time, huh?”

  “Yeah. I’ve known her about all my life.”

  “So you two are…close?” she prompted, unable to shake the image of Nona’s hand placed so possessively on Leon’s shoulder and his apparent lack of displeasure. One question was burning in her mind: Did you two have a romantic relationship? What does she mean to you now? But of course she couldn’t ask that.

  “Close? Oh, sure,” Leon blithely confirmed with a flick of his hand. “My mom was her mother’s best friend. When Nona’s mother died, my mom kinda adopted Nona, so she’s like a member of my family, really.”

  “I see,” Kacey murmured. But that didn’t explain the obvious possessiveness that Kacey had detected in Nona’s attitude. Something told Kacey that she’d better watch Nona James closely and try not to get on her bad side.

  Inside the noisy heart of the factory, Leon paused to let Kacey take in the buzz of activity swirling around them. Here industrial sewing machines and power-cutting tools were actively turning fabric into a variety of products. As they toured the plant, Leon pointed out the various stages of production as articles of clothing passed from cutting tables to sewing machines, pressing equipment and the final staging area for inventory storage and shipping.

  “This is where everything happens,” he explained. “Workers in that section on the left complete the manual steps needed to prepare the product before the tools and machines take over. Each employee has a specific job to do, and timing is critical…not only to maintain a steady production flow, but also to ensure a safe environment. If one person drops the ball, it can affect the entire run, so team effort is vitally important.”

  “That kind of interdependence probably helps create the family-type vibe that I can definitely feel around here,” Kacey commented as she slid her gaze over the massive machinery where men and women were busy with their work.

  Leon beamed his pleasure at Kacey’s spot-on observation. “Absolutely right. We work hard together, we live close to each other and we depend on one another to get the job done right.”

  “That must be a good feeling…knowing your coworkers so well.”

  “Yes, it’s a definite benefit of living in a small town where no one is a stranger.”

  “No one?” Kacey repeated, beginning to feel less like an intruder.

  He turned back to Kacey, his face soft and somber. “No one,” he repeated in a husky voice that delivered the seriousness of his message. “Not even you.” He placed a hand on her arm, his fingers lingering on the sleeve of her navy jacket. “I mean that, Kacey. While you’re here, I plan to do all I can to make you feel like a part of the Archer family.”

  The raw sensuousness in his voice sent involuntary shivers of arousal through Kacey, who lifted her face to Leon’s. He’d said “the Archer family,” hadn’t he? Not the “Archer Industries family,” making Kacey wonder if Leon was aware of the slip of the tongue he’d made.

  “Thanks. I’d like that,” she murmured, impressed by his genuine effort to put her at ease.

  The tender expression that suffused his features told her that she’d interpreted his comment exactly as he’d hoped. “I want your experience here to be well worth your time,” he went on, leading her deeper into the workroom.

  He stopped at a metal rail that separated the walkway from the work area, removed his hand from her arm and dipped his head. “I know Rockport is nothing like New York, but I think my hometown is a pretty special place. We have a lot to offer.” The clacking cacophony of sounds that reverberated through the factory forced Leon to step closer to Kacey so that she could hear what he had to say. Continuing in a much stronger voice, he told her, “Since you’re going to be around for a while, I hope you’ll take the time to get to know the city…and me…a lot better.”

  “I hope so, too,” Kacey confessed, aware of the vibrations from the massive machinery that suddenly engulfed them. Or was it the hum of her fast-racing heart that was causing the steady pulsations rocketing through her body?

  Kacey gave Leon an affirmative nod, turned around and started down the walkway. He riveted his eyes on her exquisite backside, swallowing the lump of appreciation that crowded his throat. With her head held high, she sashayed to the end of the catwalk, and into a section that was walled off by a large section of glass. Leon followed close behind.

  “I want you to meet Bob Truett, the head patternmaker I told you about,” Leon said to Kacey as he guided her over to the man behind the glass wall who was busy m
oving pattern pieces around on his computer screen. “Bob Truett,” Leon started, “this is Kacey Parker. The designer for the SunKissed line.”

  Bob, a short stocky man with a receding hairline who resembled Danny DeVito, shifted in his seat, looked up and beamed a toothy smile at Kacey. “Welcome to Archer,” he said. “I was just uploading some of your specs.”

  “Great to meet you,” Kacey replied, moving closer to his computer screen to study the images floating there, relieved to see that he was using the same CAD software that she used in New York. By storing her design styles and color choices on disks, they were easily accessed and managed. “Looks good,” she commented perusing his work.

  “Bob’s a real whiz at pulling off computerized replicas of the most complicated clothing constructions,” Leon agreed.

  “Mind if I watch for a while?” Kacey asked.

  “No, not at all,” Bob replied, waving her into the empty chair beside his. “In fact, I need your input. Oh, and we’ll receive the Naughty Net from India day after tomorrow.”

  “Fantastic,” Kacey said, relieved to know that Archer had come through.

  “Something I need to know now,” Truett started. “Do you want the shirring on this tie-side bottom to run all the way around the hipline or just across the front?”

  Scooting closer to the screen, Kacey studied the image and launched into her vision of the style, while Bob made the necessary adjustments in the pattern.

  Leon retreated to the back of Bob’s workstation to observe. Damn, that woman is pretty! he thought, pulling in a long, silent breath. And talented, too, he acknowledged. Kacey, the fashion designer, was the artistic force behind the line, and he was proud to act as the vehicle to channel her finished products into the heart of the apparel industry. Together, they could make a heck of a pair.

  Was that why he was drawn to her like a magnet picking up pins from the cutting-room floor? Why the attraction he’d felt when he first saw her sitting in his office had hit him like a jolt of fresh air? He was still reeling from the encounter. When he’d discussed the Leeman’s contract with his father, he had assumed he’d be working with some flighty male artistic type from New York, never expecting to be paired with a sexy woman who had so much going on. What a lucky break! And she’d told him that she lived alone, so she must be single. No roommates. No rings. No mention of a kid or a significant other she’d left behind in New York. He sure hoped Kacey Parker was as special, and available, as she appeared to be because he was going to do all he could to keep her in Rockport as long as possible.

  As he listened to Kacey and Bob discussing the various stages that her samples would go through, Leon was impressed anew by the unusual creative flair of her swimwear. She certainly knew how to capitalize on a woman’s best features while softening the appearance of those ever-present flaws. He’d never seen any female on the beach in a suit close to what SunKissed by Kacey had to offer, and he could hardly wait to see the finished products.

  “What size do you want the samples made in?” Truett asked, busily re-creating the extra-wide straps of a white halter top on his computerized patternmaker.

  “I think it might be best…” Kacey began, but was cut off when Leon’s voice drifted from behind her and interrupted her reply.

  “Bob, I think you should make the samples in Ms. Parker’s size. Whatever that is,” he finished, deliberately inserting a hint of a taunt in his comment.

  Kacey’s head whipped around and she glared at Leon, who simply let a sly smile curve his lips.

  “For your information I wear a size 4…petite,” she informed him without hesitation, clearly ready to accept his challenge.

  So, she’s game, Leon thought, his heart thudding at the thought of her wearing the sexy swimsuits now floating across Bob’s computer monitor.

  “If I were in New York,” Kacey continued, “I’d have the in-house models at Leeman’s fit them. I even considered having the models come to Rockport for the shoot, but I’ve changed my mind completely. Since I’m on a tight deadline and don’t have time to ship the samples back to New York, I may as well fit them myself.”

  “Good point,” Bob acknowledged, punching in more numbers. “That way I can make the adjustments on the spot and save a lot of time.”

  “Great,” Kacey stated. “I can’t wait until the samples are ready.”

  Neither can I, Leon silently admitted, realizing his suggestion hadn’t thrown Kacey at all.

  “If you’re going to test-model the swimsuits, then Nona can help you with the fittings,” Truett told Kacey.

  Sorry, Bob, Leon quietly mused. That’ll be one job that belongs to the boss, even though Kacey doesn’t know it…yet.

  Leon crossed the space between himself and Kacey to add a comment on one of her designs. “I like this black one-piece style. It’s the definition of classic! It’s sexy, and yet it’s not like those teeny-weeny string silhouettes that show off a lot of skin. Your suits have glamour and class. Like old-time Hollywood pizzazz done up for women of today.”

  Kacey’s head snapped up, her mouth open in surprise. “You hit the essence of my design concept right on the mark! Thanks for the compliment. You have a good eye for style,” she told him. “I think I’m gonna like having you around.”

  Not as much as I’m gonna enjoy having you here, Leon thought, boldly raking Kacey with renewed appreciation. The afterbuzz of her remark fueled his sense that she was eager to explore whatever was developing between them. In her navy business attire, carefully coifed hair, shiny manicured nails and subtle, but stylish jewelry, she fit perfectly into the corporate image of a successful businesswoman. However, Leon could easily imagine what she would look like in the erotic red thong bikini that Truett was now dissecting on his computer-imaging machine. Even though she came off as the epitome of style, grace, good taste and high fashion, Leon suspected that underneath that crisp façade lurked a totally different woman, one who wore tight tank tops without a bra, stone-washed jeans without panties and was dying to break loose when she wasn’t on the clock.

  It sure would be fun to kick it with her while she’s here, he mused as a rush of excitement swept through his body. The sudden surge of that heat settled low in his stomach, initiating the beginnings of an erection that took Leon by surprise. Quickly, he swiveled toward a desk and moved up close to shield himself from embarrassment.

  What the hell was that about? He squared his shoulders, straightened his back and took a deep breath, knowing what was bothering him. His interest in Kacey Parker was quickly morphing into something more than professional, even though he knew better than to entertain such thoughts. He had to remember that she was still a city girl. Even her well-modulated voice screamed “East Coast Class,” reminding Leon of how different they were. Though tempted, he worried about acting on the impulses that were hammering at his better judgment and creating a bulge in his pants. Getting personal with Kacey Parker might mess up his first big contract as the new owner of Archer Industries, disappointing his father—and himself.

  Life in Rockport was slow, uncomplicated and casual, not at all like Kacey’s, he imagined. But if she’d let him, he’d show her the upside of his hometown, as well as another side of himself—a side that he hadn’t thought about sharing with anyone for a long, long time.

  Chapter 7

  The interior of the Seaside Suites was even drabber than Kacey had imagined it might be. A dark lobby filled with cheap furniture and a listless clerk who smelled of tobacco greeted her when she checked in.

  After entering her room, Kacey tossed her suitcase onto the faded coverlet on the queen-size bed and then flopped into a pale green armchair by the window. She swept the room with a critical eye, appalled by the gaudy seashell motif that was plastered on every surface. Huge conch shells danced across blue wallpaper while flat white sand dollars dotted the deep red carpet. The clear glass bases of the bedside lamps were filled with a variety of tiny seashells, and the mirror over the dresser was framed with
plastic replicas of various crustaceans, spray-painted bright golden yellow. Even the metal drawer pulls on the desk had been carved to resemble oyster husks.

  Shaking her head in disbelief, Kacey turned her thoughts away from her dismal environment and back to the long, but rewarding day she’d had at Archer Industries. After working with Bob Truett to download all her patterns, she’d returned to her cubicle to make a few phone calls and finish some revisions. Leon had been very solicitous, almost too eager to make sure she was satisfied with the nips and tucks that Bob planned to make on the sample patterns. Before Leon left the building for a meeting in town he’d stopped by to give her his cell phone number in case she needed to talk to him.

  Kacey had been both relieved and disappointed when Leon pulled out of the Archer parking lot with a squeal of tires and a flare of dust. She’d lingered at the window in her cubicle, watching the road long after his red Corvette had disappeared. The young Mr. Archer made her nervous as hell, but still, she liked the way he could put her at ease with only a smile. He made her heart race and her mouth go dry, yet she looked forward to being in the same room with him again tomorrow.

  She had to admit it: Leon, the local playboy, had a lot going on. He drove a fiery red sports car, owned a house on the beach and clearly spared no expense to buy only the best of whatever he wanted. Apparently, his family connections, good looks and magnetic personality must make him the most eligible bachelor in Rockport, Kacey decided, imagining that Leon had probably romanced most of the available local women, and then some. Women who were only too happy to fawn over him, increasing his sense of self-importance. Women like Nona James.

  The thought of Leon making love to Nona made Kacey flinch, though she knew she shouldn’t give a hot damn about what he did or with whom. She had to settle her emotions, view Leon Archer Jr. as a professional colleague—nothing more. She had to concentrate on fabric choices and sample units, not the adorable way Leon tilted his head to the side when he looked at her or how seductively his torso tapered into his tight waist, creating perfect symmetry with his broad, muscular shoulders. Placing a hand to her stomach, Kacey sighed, trying to steady her nerves.