Sweet Surrender (Sugar Rush #3)

by Nina Lane

  “Found them like that.” Tyler snapped his fingers.

  “Good,” Luke replied mildly, turning to go back into his office. “Glad to know you’re making an effort.”

  After the door closed, Tyler raised an eyebrow at Kate. “It’s a start, right?”

  She indicated the clipping. “Thanks for this. Where did you find it?”

  “In one of the drawers.”

  “But you just shoved it in your pocket?” Kate shook her head. “You know, newspaper clippings should be protected by acid-free paper and handled with gloves to prevent damage. You can’t just manhandle archival materials.”

  “Hey, you got a problem with this, take it up with Luke or my father.” Tyler shrugged. “I never pretended to know a damned thing about libraries or archival materials or whatever.”

  Kate sighed. It certainly wasn’t her business to get involved in a Stone family decision, but she couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for Tyler. He’d been put in a position where he had no idea what he was doing. Surely his father and brothers could have given him a job he could actually do.

  “Is this all there is in the entire library?” she asked.

  “Well, I haven’t searched the entire library yet,” Tyler replied defensively. “Not that I know much about where to look or what to look for.”

  Kate pushed back from her desk and stood. Her arm bumped against Tyler’s. Goodness. He certainly had a hard set of biceps. Granite-like, even. Must be all that working out at a fancy gym instead of actually working to make a living.

  She texted Luke that she’d be away from her desk for a short while, then grabbed her small briefcase filled with office supplies, skirted around Tyler, and headed for the elevators.

  “Well, come along,” she tossed over her shoulder.

  “You’ve got a real commanding schoolmarm thing going on,” he remarked, coming up alongside her. “You’d have been right at home as the headmistress of some Victorian girls’ school.”

  “I imagine you’re an expert on girls’ schools, Victorian or otherwise,” Kate replied dryly.

  “I’m an expert on many things,” he said with a wink, “Victorian or otherwise.”

  Hah. If only he knew how immune she was to typical male charm, having witnessed its effect on women. Though the hard-working quarry guys were light-years away from a spoiled trust fund baby like Tyler, they shared an appreciation for good times and believed in the power of their charm. And in their overly protective way, they’d warned her away from men like them—not that she would have succumbed to such superficiality anyway.

  They entered the elevator, and she pressed the button for the lower level. The doors slid shut. Kate stared straight ahead to avoid having to make further conversation with Tyler.

  Why was he standing so close to her? This elevator was big enough for a dozen people, and yet the air was warm with his body heat, and she could feel the brush of his granite-hard arm against hers, and her nose filled with the pepperminty scent of him—

  The man certainly had a tendency to loom. She cleared her throat and glanced to her side, prepared to ask him to please step out of her personal space.

  He was leaning against the wall on the other side of the elevator, a good four feet from her, his head bent as he scrolled on his phone.

  Kate’s heart gave a weird little thump. She’d never encountered a man whose presence had quite so profound an effect on her. Tyler had the physique of a quarry worker, if not the work ethic. Broad in the shoulders, with long muscular legs and those arms that could easily heft an eighteen-pound double-edge rock hammer. Even his hands were big and wide—probably clumsy with delicate tasks but capable of controlling a power drill while it sank deep into a sheet of limestone.

  Not that Tyler Stone knew anything about quarrying or power tools. If he’d gone to work for her father a decade ago, there’d have been no chance of him ending up spoiled or lazy—Edward Darling would have shown him exactly how to engage in hard, physical work.

  Tyler looked up. His gaze met hers with a force that felt like metal striking stone. Creating sparks.

  The doors slid open before Kate even realized the elevator had come to a stop. She pulled herself out of the haze that had descended over her and stepped toward the door. Miles Norwood stood in the corridor, holding a green smoothie with a pink straw.

  Kate forced a weak smile. “Miles. I see you went to the Gumdrop Bistro after all.”

  “I was feeling a bit peckish,” he replied with a bland smile.

  Behind her, Tyler muttered something that sounded vaguely like “more like a bit prickish.” She shot him a frown, but he was back to scrolling on his phone.

  Miles entered the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor. Kate’s pulse sped up with both anxiety and frustration—she wanted to make another attempt to ask him out, but no way would she try again with Tyler here. She could practically hear him snorting with laughter.

  Miles closed his lips around the smoothie straw. What would it feel like to have him kiss her? She hadn’t been kissed in a very long time, and certainly not by someone as perfect as Miles Norwood.

  “Have a nice day.” He nodded a farewell and exited on the first floor.

  Kate let out her breath. The doors closed behind him and the elevator continued its descent.

  “Really?” Tyler asked dryly. “That stick in the mud gets you hot?”

  She glowered at him, deciding to ignore the hot comment. “For your information, Miles is polite, brilliant, and dedicated to his work. You could take lessons from him.”

  “You could take lessons from me.” He shot her a lopsided grin as the doors opened at the basement level.

  “Lessons in what?” Too late, she thought she shouldn’t have asked.

  “In how to get a guy interested in you. Because you’re failing miserably with Old Stick in the Mud. Not that he’d know a come-on if it kicked him in the balls.”

  “He had a girlfriend,” Kate informed him. “They broke up recently.”

  “Ah, so that’s why you’re moving in. Was the girlfriend as prissy as he is?”

  Ignoring the silly question, Kate headed down the basement corridor.

  “I’ll give you a tip.” Tyler followed her. “You need to wear better clothes. No way should you be hiding that killer body under Grandma’s suits.”

  Killer body? Seriously?

  “And you have to show off those incredible legs of yours,” he continued.

  Kate’s heart skipped a beat. He’d been looking at her legs? He’d noticed them?

  How amaz…er, unprofessional.

  “I know I’m not a fashion plate, but my clothes are perfectly suitable for work,” she replied tartly, stopping at the closed library door. “Besides, how do you know what kind of body I have?”

  “I’ve felt it.” The deep tone of his voice indicated his approval.

  A shiver tripped down her spine. She’d felt his body, too. His rock-solid, very male body whose muscles probably rippled and flexed with every movement…

  She squashed that line of thought and turned the door handle. Locked. Behind her, Tyler moved closer—so close that she could feel the heat radiating off him.

  “Not to mention,” he remarked, his breath stirring the tendrils of hair at her nape, “you really need to let a guy see those curves. He’ll imagine doing all sorts of good and dirty things to you.”

  Kate slanted him a narrow look, even though her skin warmed at the sexy, rumbling sound of his promise. Had he imagined that about her?

  “I do not want anyone to imagine those kinds of things at work,” she said.

  “What about after hours?” He lifted an eyebrow.

  She pulled in a breath and chose not to answer that question. His voice was getting her all hot and bothered, and he wasn’t even the one she was interested in. Obviously her rather neglected libido was finally standing at attention. Her nipples definitely were. Thank heavens her suit jacket was buttoned over her breasts because Ty
ler was definitely the kind of man who would notice perky nips.

  She slipped to the side to let him unlock the door. He didn’t move. Instead his gaze roamed over her—not a quick assessment, but a slow, rolling look as if he were stripping her down and imagining her naked.

  A glow flickered to life in Kate’s belly, unfurling outward into her veins. If a man had ever looked at her like that before—and she couldn’t recall one ever doing so—then she certainly hadn’t responded like this.

  Her heartbeat increased, even as warning signs flashed in her mind. She knew better. A party boy with a string of beautiful girlfriends and a total lack of responsibility was not her kind of man. At all.

  “The door,” she prompted, her voice oddly squeaky.

  Tyler dug a key out of his pocket and handed it to her.

  “Open up, Darling,” he murmured.

  Kate closed her hand around the key. She struggled a little to take a breath. Because he was talking about more than just the door.

  Chapter

  FOUR

  Tyler didn’t move when Kate edged in front of him again. A gentleman would have stepped back to allow her space, but he’d never pretended to be a gentleman. Besides, he liked being close to her. Brought back all sorts of memories of closing his arms around her and not wanting to let go.

  He let his gaze slip down to her ass. Ugly as her clothes were, he was starting to appreciate that they concealed the lush curves he’d felt pressing against him. It was like keeping a secret. One a douche like Norwood didn’t know about.

  Kate inserted the key into the lock. The smell of her hair drifted to his nose. Fresh, clean, just like he remembered from that morning. He lowered his head closer and inhaled, letting the scent of her sink into his blood. Nice.

  Though he’d grown up with five brothers, he’d been with plenty of women in his twenty-six years. As a result, he’d absorbed a lot of knowledge about feminine lotions, creams, and perfumes. No question that Kate Darling’s scent didn’t come from the low-level shelf at the drugstore.

  She smelled…not expensive, but plentiful, like things growing and blooming. And with her round ass and full, plump breasts that he could still feel crushed against his chest…the scent of lushness suited her perfectly.

  His dick twitched. She pushed open the door, and he stepped away from her. His physical reaction didn’t surprise him, though he wasn’t about to try and start anything with her.

  A little flirting would be required to get what he needed from her, but he wouldn’t take it any further than that. Aside from the fact that Luke wouldn’t like him messing with his super-assistant, Kate had a cute, if sort of pathetic, crush on starched-shirt Miles.

  And, douche-ness aside, Miles was exactly the kind of guy she should be with—efficient, organized, smug, and probably a vegetarian. They could sit around after work drinking sustainably sourced tea and discussing algorithms.

  He followed her to the desk, grabbing the open bag of potato chips he’d left by the computer. She eyed him with disapproval. He extended the bag.

  “Want some?”

  “No, thank you.” Kate sat down at the paper-strewn desk and flipped open her briefcase. She removed a legal pad and a fountain pen, then turned to boot up the computer. “This is the library computer?”

  “What’s wrong with it?” He crunched into a handful of potato chips.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Kate repeated in faint disbelief. “It’s an ancient PC running Windows XP. What kind of database software is installed?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She scanned through the computer files, bringing up standard applications like Word and Excel. “There isn’t any kind of library automation system or even a cataloging database.”

  Again he was clueless.

  “I don’t get it,” Kate continued. “How was Fred maintaining the system?”

  “I think Fred was the system.”

  Kate studied the computer with a frown. “Does Luke know about this?”

  “Doesn’t Luke know about everything?”

  “He can’t possibly know about this or he’d have done something about it ages ago.”

  Like she was drawing a pistol at a Wild West shooting match, Kate unbuttoned her suit jacket and whisked her cell phone out of a leather holster.

  A laugh rose in Tyler’s throat—because a cell phone holster—but it faded when the button of her white shirt came undone between her breasts. His gaze snapped like a rubber band to the gap.

  The folds of her shirt opened to expose a wall of white cotton, like a heavy-duty slip. Tyler couldn’t prevent a rush of disappointment. From his experience, women who used high-end shampoos and lotions would not, under any circumstances, wear granny underwear. Apparently Kate Darling was different.

  He glanced at her open briefcase, which was neatly organized with pens, pencils, notepads, all sizes of paper clips, tape, scissors, binders, and rubber bands. She was like a little organizational superhero.

  He reached over and picked up a packet of Sugar Rush Chocolate Bon-Bons that was nestled in a corner of the briefcase. Ah. She was a secret chocolate hoarder too. That was why she’d had chocolate on her pretty lips earlier—she’d been trying to ease her anxiety with sugar before attempting to ask Norwood out.

  He opened the bag and unwrapped a Bon-Bon, popping it into his mouth.

  Kate slipped her phone back into the holster and grabbed the bag away from him with a mild glare.

  “Sorry.” He held up his hands. “I should know better than to mess with a girl’s chocolate.”

  “I need it for energy.” She put the bag back in the briefcase, right next to the rubber bands. “So where did you find the newspaper clipping?”

  Tyler gestured to a filing cabinet. Kate pulled open a drawer, sighing with dismay at the sight of the old newspapers and magazine articles crumpled into file folders.

  “These aren’t even archival quality.” She plucked a folder carefully from the drawer. “The acid from the folders is causing all this yellowing.”

  Yeah, she knew what she was talking about. Tyler’s resolve strengthened. His recent lack of sex was enough to explain his preoccupation with Kate’s scent and her bra. But he didn’t need her to scratch his itch—he needed to get her on board with the library work. Not only could she help him get the job done much faster than he could ever do on his own, she’d do it to a ridiculously high standard that would exceed Warren Stone’s expectations.

  He shoved away from the desk and walked to the overstuffed bookshelves.

  “These aren’t even in alphabetical order,” he remarked casually, studying the book spines.

  “I know.” Kate approached to look at the adjoining shelf. “It’s a travesty, really. Sugar Rush has such a long and rich history that it deserves to be respected and well organized.”

  “Exactly what I was about to say.” More or less.

  “Before my job interview with Luke, I read up on the history of the company,” Kate continued, pulling a book off the shelf. “I thought it was so fascinating that your ancestor…wasn’t it Edward Stone? Edward is my father’s name, too. Anyway, my favorite part of the story is that Edward Stone came to California during the Gold Rush to seek his fortune, but he never found any gold while mining. But he’d learned how to make chocolate from his father, who had once apprenticed at a chocolate factory in Denmark.

  “So Edward made some milk chocolate nonpareils and shared them with his fellow miners. They were such a hit that he began selling them at general stores. He made enough money to open the first Stone Confectioners’ store in San Francisco, and the Gold Rush miners were his biggest customer base.

  “He never forgot that either, which is why so many of the later Stone Confectioners’ chocolates have been based on Gold Rush themes—Chocolate Nuggets, the Gold Rush bars, 49er Truffles. Luke told me that was also his inspiration for changing the name of the company to Sugar Rush—he wanted to modernize the brand, bu
t also pay homage to its history in the Gold Rush.”

  She stopped, giving him a somewhat abashed look. “Sorry for going on about it. I just think it’s so neat that these men who came to California looking for gold ended up finding chocolate, which is the gold standard of sweets, as far as I’m concerned. And I love working for a company that has such a colorful…and delicious…history. Though of course you already know all about it.”

  He didn’t, actually. An unexpected shame shot through him. He’d heard about the company history his whole life, and a lot of it had stuck in his mind out of sheer repetition, but he hadn’t known, or he’d forgotten, details like the ones Kate had just told him. He hadn’t even remembered he’d had an ancestor who’d learned chocolate-making in Denmark.

  “I’ll be quiet now,” Kate promised, shuffling a few books on the shelf. “This is a library, after all.”

  “You don’t have to be quiet.” Tyler almost wished she’d keep talking—not only did he like the sound of her voice with its faint, throaty quality, this history thing was sort of interesting.

  “From what I understand, Fred knew everything about Sugar Rush and its heritage,” Kate continued. “But clearly this company has needed a collections management specialist.”

  “How do you know so much about library collections?” Tyler asked.

  “I have a degree in library and information sciences.”

  Bingo.

  She was a perfect, ripe apple that had fallen right into his lap. And though he had a stab of guilt over the thought of playing her—because she really was a nice girl—the reality was that he had a job to do, and he couldn’t do it without her.

  “Even with your degree, Luke never asked you to work down here?” he asked.

  “He hired me as his executive assistant, not the corporate librarian.” Kate slipped another book back into place. “Besides, it was Fred’s job for forty-five years. From what I heard, he didn’t want anyone encroaching on his domain. Luke showed Fred a great deal of respect by allowing him to run the library as he saw fit. But I don’t think he realized it might actually have damaged the collection.”