by Sandra Brown
Additionally, Noah had appealed to Daniel’s vanity, though he would never admit it. The younger man had reminded him of himself when he’d been that age—aggressive, determined, confident to the point of conceit, which Daniel also regarded more a virtue than a vice.
Daniel told Noah he would need a few days to think it over. He was reluctant to bring in someone who wasn’t family and install him in a position of authority. On the other hand, the business had expanded to the point where he and Maris needed another pair of hands at the helm.
For Maris’s part, she was positively giddy over the possibility of working daily with the author of her favorite book. Though she’d met Noah only once, at a literary function, she held him in high esteem and had harbored a secret romantic crush on him for years.
With her urging, Daniel created the job of vice president of business affairs for Noah. He’d never regretted that decision.
“You still agree with it, don’t you?” Daniel asked him now.
“With what?”
“The company philosophy.”
He gave his father-in-law a retiring look. “From the beginning of our association, I’ve known how you felt about mergers, Daniel. Unquestionably there would be benefits. We would have more funds at our disposal, more venues for marketing and promotion.”
“But we’d no longer be autonomous.”
“Which was the point I was about to make,” Noah said. “Autonomy was the basis on which Matherly Press was founded. I knew the family mantra even before I married into it.”
When Maris began seeing Noah outside the office, Daniel had nursed some reservations. He had been concerned on several levels. First, their ten-year age difference bothered him, but not overly so. Second, Noah’s business acumen wasn’t the only thing on which he’d built a solid reputation. It was rumored that he was a notorious womanizer. With so many rumors circulating for that many years, Daniel had to believe there was some basis for them. His greatest concern, however, was Noah’s personal agenda. By marrying the last eligible Matherly, his career would receive a distinct boost.
Of course, when it came right down to it, it wasn’t Daniel’s decision to make. It was his daughter’s, and Maris wanted Noah for her husband. Because of her mother’s untimely death, she had always been mature beyond her years. Necessity had forced her to grow up quickly. She had begun forming her own opinions and making her own decisions at an early age. He had reared her to think for herself and to trust her instincts. It would have been wrong of him to second-guess her choice of a life partner.
To his credit, Noah had, without Maris’s knowledge, approached his future father-in-law and told him that if he entertained any doubts regarding the marriage, it would never take place. He loved Maris to distraction, he had said, but he would walk away, forsake his position at Matherly Press, and disappear from her life unless Daniel could give his wholehearted approval of the union.
Daniel had given the couple his blessing, but, where Maris’s happiness was concerned, he remained a vigilant watchdog. Yesterday, she had been a bit downcast, although the surprise party was a logical explanation for Noah’s recent inattention.
Maris didn’t talk about it, but Daniel also sensed that she was ready for children and was slightly disappointed that she hadn’t become pregnant. It was too early to worry unnecessarily about that. Maris was still young. Noah had expressed a desire for children on numerous occasions. There was plenty of time for them to have a family.
Selfishly, Daniel wished for grandchildren soon. He would enjoy bouncing the next generation on his knee before he checked out.
Thinking of his daughter now, he asked, “Have you heard from Maris?”
“Not since she left this morning.” Noah checked his wristwatch. “She should be there by now. It was a long way to travel and I’m afraid it will turn out to be a bust.”
“Hopefully not. She seems very excited about this writer. Speaking of which, she told me about her present.”
“Present?”
“Last night.”
“Oh.” Noah smiled with chagrin. “She’s awfully easy to please, isn’t she?”
“Your writer’s cell is no small thing to her, Noah. She called from the airport this morning just prior to boarding her flight. If you’d given her a diamond ring, she couldn’t have been happier. She’s always wanted you to resume writing.”
Noah frowned. “I hope she doesn’t expect too much from me. I’ll probably disappoint her.”
“Your effort alone will make her happy.”
“I’d like to get in a few hours of effort tonight.” Noah set his empty tumbler on the end table and stood up.
“Stay and have dinner with me. We’ll play chess afterward.”
“Tempting, Daniel. But I should use this time that Maris is away to crank out a few pages. There’s only one way to write, and that’s to write,” he said with a smile. “Can I refresh your drink before I go?”
“Thanks, no. Maxine will be measuring the amount left in the decanter as it is.”
“Then I for sure want to clear out before the fireworks start.” Noah pulled on his suit jacket and retrieved his briefcase. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“As a matter of fact, there is,” Daniel said. “The next time someone approaches you with an offer to buy my publishing house, tell him to fuck off.”
Noah laughed. “Shall I quote you?”
“Absolutely. In fact, I would prefer it.”
* * *
Two vodka martinis hadn’t dulled the edges of Nadia’s nerves. They seemed to be on red alert and had been since Noah had recounted for her his conversation with Daniel.
For half an hour she’d been pacing the hardwood floor of her Chelsea apartment, which was used strictly for romantic trysts. The apartment she owned in Trump Tower was her official address. Not even her accountant knew about this apartment.
“No matter how blasé he seems, I don’t trust the old codger,” she said. “How do you know he can’t see through your act?”
“Because he isn’t looking.” Noah’s voice conveyed his impatience.
“I don’t mean to question your perception, Noah.”
“Don’t you?”
“No. I’m just afraid that something might go wrong. I want this deal so badly for you.”
“I want it for us.”
Her anxiety dissolving, she stopped pacing and moved to where he stood. Coming close, she rested her hands on his shoulders. “Damn you,” she said softly. “By saying that, you’ve completely disarmed me.”
Their kiss was passionate and deep. She unbuttoned his shirt and slipped her hand inside. When they pulled apart, she continued to tweak his chest hairs. “It’s just that Daniel Matherly has been overseeing that publishing house for… how long?”
“He’s seventy-eight. His father died when he was twenty-nine. Daniel’s been in control since then.”
“So almost fifty years.”
“I can subtract, Nadia.”
“All I’m saying is this: He hasn’t made himself into a living legend by being a dimwit. He didn’t become successful by misreading people. He’s smart. He’s savvy. He’s—”
“Not as sharp as he used to be.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he just wants you to think so.”
Noah disliked being second-guessed and resented even a hint of criticism. Pushing her away, he moved into the kitchen, where he refilled his highball glass with ice cubes and splashed scotch over them. “I think I know my father-in-law at least as well as you do, Nadia.”
“I’m sure—”
“If you were sure of me, you wouldn’t be nagging me about this.” He treated his drink like a shot, then set his glass on the countertop and took a moment to contain his temper before turning back to her. “Your job is to keep Blume and company pacified and reassured.”
“I’m having dinner with Morris tomorrow night. The Rainbow Room.”
“Good. Be a knockout. Eat, drink, and dance. Blow in hi
s ear. Keep him happy. Let me handle the Matherlys. I’ve been handling them quite well for three years. I know how they think. I know how they react to given situations. This must be carried out with extreme delicacy. It can’t be rushed or the whole thing could blow up in our faces.”
His timetable had been in place for years. Now that the finish line was in sight, he wasn’t going to sacrifice all his careful planning and strategizing to recklessness. By doing it his way, on his schedule, everything had gone according to plan.
The first step had been accomplished when Daniel Matherly hired him. By toeing the company line, he had earned the old man’s trust. A major hurdle had been cleared when he married Maris, further solidifying his position. Then, when the time was right, he had subtly, through Nadia, telegraphed to Blume his interest in a merger. Blume was still working under the misconception that the idea had originally been his. Not at all. WorldView had been in Noah’s game plan from the start.
Up to this point everything had been done Noah Reed’s way, the only way that Noah Reed would have it. He wasn’t going to screw himself now by rushing toward a quick finish.
“I don’t know why you’re being testy with me,” Nadia said. “Morris issued the deadline today, not I.”
That had been the one crimp in Noah’s plan that he hadn’t seen coming, and the reason for his querulousness tonight. Throughout his cocktail hour with Daniel, he’d been only half listening to the old man’s rambling speech. Instead he’d been remembering Blume, with his lizardlike smile, imposing on him a two-week deadline to either fish or cut bait.
Blume had reminded Noah that he had been extended ample time in which to review the proposal, that either he was interested enough to move forward and make this deal happen or he wasn’t. Noah had reminded him that his father-in-law wasn’t a minor stumbling block but a major obstacle. “Daniel has stated unequivocally that his company is not for sale.”
“Then you must take bold steps to see that he changes his mind, mustn’t you?”
Blume concluded the meeting by reminding Noah that there were other publishing companies, almost as prestigious as Matherly Press, that would leap at the chance of becoming part of WorldView.
The hell of it was, Noah knew that Blume’s threat was viable. Many smaller publishing houses were hanging on by a thread. They couldn’t compete with the distribution capabilities and robust publicity budgets of media giants. They would welcome the financial relief and stability that WorldView would bring to them. Unlike Daniel, their primary concern was survival by any means possible, and to hell with sentiment.
There wasn’t a sentimental bone in Noah’s body, but he was well acquainted with Daniel’s fanatical adherence to tradition and his family’s history. The old man wasn’t going to let go easily. It was an intricate complication that seemed beyond Blume’s understanding.
“I’m well aware of Blume’s deadline,” Noah told Nadia now. “I’ll see that it’s met.”
“What about Maris?”
“She’s busy in Florida.”
“Georgia.”
“What?”
“You told me she went to Georgia.”
“Whatever. I’m going to chip away at Daniel while she’s gone. I began tonight by pointing out the advantages of Blume’s offer.”
“What happens when Maris gets back?”
“She’ll go the way Daniel goes.”
“That wasn’t what I was talking about.”
I should be so lucky. Sighing wearily, Noah closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Jesus, he didn’t need a discussion of this right now. He had enough to deal with.
“I know what you were talking about, Nadia.” Lowering his hand and opening his eyes, he looked at her. “Think about it. Does it make sense for me to ask Maris for a divorce now? No. I can’t do that until I have that WorldView contract signed, sealed, and delivered.”
He expelled a breath of exasperation. “Do you think I’ve enjoyed being married to her? Do you think I’ve liked kissing Daniel’s ass all these years?”
“That’s a revolting thought.”
“Isn’t it? So imagine it from my perspective.” He hoped the remark might cause her to smile; it didn’t.
“And Maris?” she asked. “Will you miss kissing her ass?”
He gave a dry laugh. “I won’t miss my wife, but I’ll regret losing a good editor. However, with the operating budget Blume has promised me, I’ll be able to hire three of her. Five of her. And even if none prove to be as good as she, I’ll have my ten million to console me.”
She held his gaze for a moment, her expression turning sulky. “You really don’t mind my blowing in Morris Blume’s ear?”
“Figure of speech.”
“So what you said earlier…”
“About?”
“About your wanting this deal for us. Did you mean it?”
By way of answer, he pulled her against him and kissed her.
She finished unbuttoning his shirt, then spread it open and put tongue to nipple, flicking it lightly. “You did?”
“Right now I’d swear to anything.”
Laughing huskily, she stroked him through his trousers. “I don’t like sharing you with Maris. I’m impatient to have this all to myself.”
“I’m rather impatient myself.” He unzipped his trousers and pushed down his shorts. Nadia dropped to her knees and nuzzled him. She traced the length of his erection with her tongue before taking him into her mouth. Noah grunted with satisfaction.
“You stick to doing what you do best, Nadia, and leave the problem of the Matherlys to me.”
Chapter 9
Parker was at his computer. He’d been up for hours. His mind was skipping like a stone over water.
Mike delivered a third cup of coffee to him. “Your guest just left the cottage. She’s dawdling along the way, taking in the seascape, but she’ll soon be making an entrance.”
He had asked Mike to be on the lookout for her and acknowledged the report with a nod.
Mike was uncharacteristically careless as he replaced Parker’s empty coffee mug with the full one. Hot coffee sloshed out. The spill spread across the table and stained several sheets of handwritten notes. Parker stared at the mess, then raised his head and gave the older man a look.
“Sorry,” Mike said.
“I’ll bet.”
Mike snorted.
“Look, if you’ve got something to say, why not act like a grown-up and just say it?”
“I think you know what I have to say, Parker.”
“How about ‘congratulations’?”
“How about ‘get real’? Do you really expect me to congratulate you?”
“She’s here, isn’t she?”
“Yes. She’s here.” Mike looked none too happy about it, though.
Parker raised his shoulders in a shrug, asking impatiently, “What? The reverse psychology worked. She took the bait. Which is what we hoped she would do. If you had qualms, you should have thrown away her phone numbers when that deputy gave them to you. But you didn’t. You passed them on to me. I called her and she came. So what’s eating you?”
Mike turned away and stamped back into the kitchen. “My biscuits are burning.”
Parker returned to his computer screen, but the interruption had log-jammed his creative flow. He couldn’t focus on the last few sentences he’d written. They now seemed a jumble of words and phrases beyond translation. In an effort to assign them meaning, he forced his eyes to stop on each word separately. But no matter how hard he concentrated, he couldn’t make sense of them. They could have been written in Sanskrit.
And then he realized why reading and understanding his own words had suddenly become a challenge: He was nervous. Which was odd, considering that everything had fallen into place more or less as he had planned. He’d made a few spontaneous adjustments to accommodate Maris Matherly-Reed’s personality, but she was responding to him and his situation even better than he had dared hope she would.
Now that he thought about it, getting her here had been almost too easy. He had pulled the strings, and, like a puppet, she had made the correct moves. He figured that’s what had Mike’s shorts in a wad this morning. Her innocent cooperation had lent her a certain vulnerability and made her seem almost a victim.
But she isn’t, he told himself stubbornly.
Yeah, he had tugged some strings to guide her in the direction he wanted her to go, but ultimately she was in control. Everything depended on how well she liked Envy, or if she liked it at all.
And that’s what had his shorts in a wad. Not only from the standpoint of the overall plan, but as a writer, he was nervous to hear what she thought of the pages she had curled up with last night. What if she thought they stunk? What if she thanked him for the opportunity to review more of his work but declined it and said her good-byes?
His plot would be screwed, and he would feel like shit.
Agitated, he turned his wheelchair on a dime and saw her picking her way along the path between the main house and the cottage. Originally it had been the detached kitchen of the plantation house. Parker had converted it into a guest house. Not that he entertained a lot of guests. Not that he planned to in the future. Nevertheless, the interior of the structure had been gutted and he had spared no expense to have it completely and comfortably renovated.
Accomplished with only one guest in mind—the one presently occupying it.
Maris glanced up and saw him watching her from behind the glass panels of the solarium. She smiled and waved. Waved? He couldn’t remember the last time someone had waved at him. Feeling rather goofy, he raised his hand and waved back.
She let herself in through the sliding door. “Good morning.”
