by Judy Teel
Dakota pulled herself together, cleared her throat and did her best to smile as she rang up his order. "I had the impression you'd mistaken me for someone else," she said, trying to sound friendly.
"Did you?"
"Maybe someone you once knew?"
He pulled out his wallet, his expression giving away nothing.
Her hope went up a notch. "A lot of people think I look like that leather heiress, Dakota Jamison. I've seen her in the magazines. I think they just say that because of the name."
Interest sharpened his gaze. "What name?"
"Dakota. I'm Dakota Johnson." She wondered if she should pull out her license. No, that was too obvious. She held out her hand, instead.
Amusement sparkled through his green eyes as he clasped her palm. A current of excitement shot up her arm and her stomach fluttered. She snatched her hand back.
"I guess it is kind of unusual," she said, trying to regain her composure.
His smile turned sultry. "Very unique."
Was he flirting with her? "I meant the name," she stated, a little sharper than she'd intended.
"Meet me after work."
She blinked, surprised for a moment, and then outrage scraped across her shoulders. So much for her hope that he didn't know her, blast it.
She dropped his money on the counter. "Here's your change."
"You must stop working sometime."
She frowned at him. "You're not invited."
"We need to talk--"
"In case you didn't realize, I own this place. As in no free time."
"Privately."
From the corner Mrs. Fredrickson and Mrs. Aster glanced at them, openly curious. Trey was going to ruin everything! "I don't know you. Have a nice day," she snapped.
He folded his arms across his chest and leaned one hip against the counter. "Want me to prove you do?"
"Good. Day."
"In front of all these people?"
She glared at him. "Fine. The park across the street. I close at three," she hissed.
He pushed his change toward her and she noticed that somehow a fifty dollar bill had been added to the pile.
"Thanks for the great service. Food was excellent."
"You're a bastard," she said under her breath.
"Only when I have to be."
CHAPTER THREE
Dakota crossed the street to Thorton Park. Worry made her stomach feel like she'd swallowed a bucket of lead instead of the lentil soup she'd had for lunch. She didn't know what to expect from the meeting with Trey. Except that it wouldn't be good.
She walked slowly down the curved cement path past the gazebo where the High School's tiny marching band had played for the Labor Day celebration. The trees overhead were touched with color now and a few leaves crunched under her sneakers. The whole town reminded her of Central Park. She loved that.
Trey sat sprawled on a bench just ahead of her, gazing up into the sky. He must have sensed her presence even though she was still several yards away because he turned unexpectedly, subtly alert like a lion that had just spotted the zebra he was going to have for dinner.
He didn't move as she approached. Just watched, his arm slung across the back of the bench, his legs stretched out, taking up space, owning it, claiming it.
She shivered and told herself it was from the sudden sweep of wind brushing her face and throat which still felt hot with anger. She did not feel a quick jump of awareness because of the breadth of Trey's shoulders or the way the afternoon sun slanted across the masculine planes of his face.
Trey took his arm off the back of the bench when she stopped in front of him. He gestured to the space beside him. "You'd probably like to get off your feet."
"I'll stand, thanks."
"Afraid to get close?"
"Of course."
His sexy mouth quirked into a half smile. "You can handle it."
"But why should I bother?"
Dakota tracked the way his shirt lay across the flat, hard-looking span of his chest and over his trim stomach where it disappeared into the waistband of his trousers.
What was she afraid of? He was just a guy. Like dozens of others she'd had to deal with when she worked for her father. Nothing special. She really had nothing to worry about.
She sat on the bench and crossed her arms. "You have ten minutes."
"Why'd you change your looks and your name?"
"Haven't you already figured that out?" She glanced at him and his forest green eyes locked onto her. They seemed to see into her very soul.
"The Jamison name would bring you a lot of business," he said.
And a lot of attention she didn't want.
A flock of butterflies took flight in her stomach and Dakota looked away. "I want to be left alone."
"Why?"
All the whys cascaded over her and the resentment she felt from the hurt her father had caused flared to life. She looked at him again, letting her anger dominate, welcoming it and the protection it gave her against him. "What do you want?" she bit out.
"You mean besides you?" The edges of his voice melted with suggestion.
"Save your infantile seduction attempts for women who are interested. What are you really doing in my town?"
The sparkle of flirtation in his eyes shifted to open interest, but she ignored it. "Did my father send you?"
Trey sat back and studied her for a moment as if weighing his options in his mind. "Yes."
"Why?"
"He misses you."
"Oh, right." Her resentment deepened. "Let me tell you how this really works, Trey. He dangles something he thinks I want so he can get me to sign on the dotted line. Once I do, I'm trapped, legally this time, with no way out. He's got full control. All for my own good, or course."
She wondered what Trey had been promised to play the part of retriever for her dad. "It's a load of crap. You're wasting your time here."
His gaze held hers. "I don't think so."
"Go back to New York. Tell Dad you couldn't find me."
"Come back with me. Negotiate to keep your restaurant. Get money to expand it. Prove to him you know what you're doing."
She pulled in a quick breath as his words jabbed at the painful stain of inadequacy that her father had left deep inside her. To show him she was good enough would be sweet. And much too risky.
"No." She watched him carefully, waiting for the hardball to start.
"Even here you can't keep your identity secret forever."
And there it was. The veiled threat. "Screw you. I don't deal with blackmailers and I'm not afraid to start over."
That was a bald-faced lie, but he didn't need to know it. Dakota moved to stand up before she blew her tough girl act by bursting into tears.
Trey covered her hand with his, the light touch immobilizing her. Her thoughts dimmed as his warmth rushed up her arm and into her chest making her heart beat faster.
"I'm good at keeping secrets, Dakota. I can keep yours."
"For a price."
He leaned forward and his compelling scent surrounded her, accentuated from being outdoors. The fire in his eyes flared brighter making some primitive part of her purr to life. "You're meant for bigger things than a bump in the road like Harts Creek."
"What is it going to take to get rid of you?" She hated the breathless catch in her voice, but she couldn't seem to stop it.
"I'll pick you up at five."
She blinked, snapping out of the spell he had almost woven around her. "No. You won't."
"We have unfinished business."
"I have work to do."
He stroked his thumb over her knuckles. "Let me prove it to you."
The spell settled around her again, like a cottony haze. She stared at his mouth and the memory of kissing him flowed through her, tightening her core.
Dakota pulled back in alarm. Good lord, he really was a magician.
Jumping to her feet, she slipped her hand from beneath his. "I have to go."
"Running away, again?"
"I ran to something not away, and it's none of your business. Now trot back to your master and leave me alone. There's nothing for you here."
Trey stretched, his impressive chest expanding with a deep breath. "I think I'll hang around, see what's so appealing about this sleepy little town."
He grinned up at her and dimples winked on and off on either side of his mouth. The butterflies in her stomach resurrected.
Great. She was so in over her head.
Dakota turned to go. Trey stood and caught her hand, this time in a firm grip. Before she could protest, he tugged her against him.
His muscled forearm came around her waist and pressed into her back at the same time her palm flattened on the dense planes of his chest. "You haven't forgotten and neither have I."
Her libido shot off like a rocket on the Fourth of July.
His soft lips brushed across hers and the rocket exploded, sending sparks shooting through her body. When he settled his mouth solidly, the sparks caught and fire leaped to life, warming her belly and making her nipples harden.
His tongue touched the seal of her lips and she parted them, swept away by the lust racing through her blood stream. He tasted sweet to her, heady, like a fine liqueur.
Her bones melted as his tongue stroked hers lightly.
He broke the kiss and stepped back, running his hands up and down her arms before he released her completely. His eyes flashed with hunger.
"You haven't changed as much as you think," he said, his voice low and husky.
"You're wrong." Dakota turned and walked away from him, her legs trembling with every step.
* * *
Trey watched her go, sorry he'd kissed her. And not.
Sorry because she genuinely aroused him and he'd allowed himself to be tempted by it. He'd have to watch himself from now on. Move more toward a brotherly role.
Not sorry because it had been a long time since a woman stirred him up like she did. It felt good. Alive. Real.
Out of control.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and stared up at the red leaves dangling in the breeze. Pulling in another deep breath of the clean air that seemed to permeate Harts Creek, Trey tried to clear his mind.
Losing control was dangerous when he had a part to play. Getting hard whenever he got within touching distance of Dakota wasn't going to get him what he wanted. Not ultimately.
He had to figure out what would.
Trey strolled out of the park, his mind running over possible ways to soften Dakota up to him. When he reached the street, he paused to study the small white-washed building across from him with "Hearth and Home" painted in bright blue letters over the door.
Not overly impressive, but it had potential. As good a place to start as any.
If one plan didn't work on Dakota, he'd try something else. If that didn't work, he'd try again. He only had two weeks left to succeed. The way he figured it, the only wrong move he could make was to give up.
* * *
The next morning, Dakota still felt furious with herself--and more determined than ever to prove to Trey that he was wasting his time. About a lot of things.
As she rolled out the dough for the cinnamon rolls she served every morning, her mind worked over how she might accomplish that.
Men like Trey didn't give up easily, but neither did she. She'd made too many sacrifices to see everything destroyed just because her father decided he couldn't get along without her. Yeah right, on that score. One person made as good a pawn as another to her father.
The whole situation was very strange, she concluded. Why go to all the trouble to send one of his best people to find her? Something else was going on. Something she was sure she wanted no part of.
Amusement tickled up under her ribs. Her father had badly miscalculated if he thought Trey could convince her to come back. He was the one man capable of instantly bringing up all the reasons why she'd left the company in the first place.
She put her rolling pin aside and started spreading cinnamon sugar glaze over the surface of the dough. A player like Trey held no interest for her. Watching her mother's heartache after the divorce had taught her the danger of relationships with that kind of man.
Insistent knocking at the front of the store jarred her from her musings. As she slid three trays of rolls into the oven she wondered who would be trying to see her at five in the morning. Only one person that she could think of.
A shimmer of excitement swept down her back.
Dakota chastised herself immediately. No interest, remember? Dread should be filling her, not anticipation. At the very least, annoyance.
Yes, she was annoyed. Very annoyed. The man had no business bothering her when she was trying to get food ready for the day.
Dakota stomped to the front of the store. Unlocking the door, she yanked it open. Trey smiled down at her, flashing his blasted dimples. Her stupid heart did a little flip.
She glared at him. "Go away."
Before she could close the door, he stepped past her and strolled into the dining room. "Wow, it smells great in here." He breathed deeply, his eyes half closed.
She ignored the satisfaction his words gave her and shut the door. He was disgustingly perky. "Do you know what time it is?"
"I'm an early riser. Always have been. Here." He held out a check to her.
She stared at it. "What's that?"
"An apology. You have every right to want your business to succeed. There's enough here to make that happen."
"I don't want your money."
"It's a gift from your father. No strings."
Dakota stared at him, not sure exactly what to say with so many emotions tumbling around inside her. Did he think she was a complete idiot?
"My father wouldn't part with a penny to help me with my restaurant. Especially without contingencies. This is from your expense account, isn't it?" she stated.
"I've also lined up five of the best restaurant promoters and managers in the country for you to interview."
She took the check from him and glanced at it. Anger plowed through her body like a sand storm. "One-hundred thousand. That's really something." Her gaze locked onto him.
"I don't take hand outs." She ripped the check in half. "Your presumption that I can't succeed without Jamison money is insulting." She ripped the check into quarters. "I won't go back even if I do fail." She tore the check into tiny pieces and let them flutter to the floor.
Trey looked at the mess for a moment and then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He punched in a number and put the phone to his ear. "It's Trey. Cancel the interviews. Send something nice." He snapped the phone closed and gazed down at her. "Very dramatic."
"Sometimes that's what it takes to make a point."
"Sometimes." He scrutinized her face and she felt her cheeks heat. "I'll see you around."
"Have a nice flight back."
"I don't give up that easily." He walked out and quietly shut the door behind him.
Dakota stared at the bits of paper at her feet and wondered why she didn't feel angry that he wasn't leaving. She couldn't possibly be feeling a small sense of admiration because he wasn't admitting defeat.
No, she felt proud. Of herself. She'd refused the temptation of falling back on the easy way even with it staring her in the face.
One-hundred thousand.
Not so long ago, she would have dropped that kind of money on one dress. Now an amount like that had the power to change her whole life.
As she swept the destroyed check up, she tried not to feel like she'd made a big mistake. Instead, she clung to the possibility that she might win the contest. Even though the prize money was considerably less than Trey's offer, it was enough. Enough to keep her independent.
Enough to help her resist giving in to him and what he represented.
CHAPTER FOUR
They won't buy without Dakota. Do whatever it takes get her back here willing and compliant.
If someone had handed him a hundred thousand dollar check he'd probably have said 'just tell me what you want me to do.'
But not Dakota. She'd thrown it in his face.
Her hunger for independence ran deeper than he ever would have expected. He'd seen the temptation in her eyes when she'd looked at the check. And the moment she'd refused that temptation.
Trey sipped his second drink, feeling the alcohol's fire spread through his chest. He was starting to respect her and that was trouble. Respect turned to liking and liking turned to wanting more.
A job should never become personal, he reminded himself. Dakota was only a means to an end. Once he figured out her weak spot, he could exploit it. Coerce her to his way of thinking. He'd finish this job and turn his back on people like Jamison forever.
Seeing her turn down the money still astonished him. Her restaurant was important to her, he'd seen that in her eyes, too. After watching the kind of business she got, he knew she couldn't be making much from it. Probably couldn't even pay herself, yet.
The place would have to be expanded before she'd see a profit. The check he'd given her would have made that easy. Why didn't she take it?
He set the glass down and pushed it away from him.
There must be something else that she wanted more. Something she couldn't resist.
She'd given up a lot when she'd disappeared. There had to be regrets. What if all she needed was a pleasant reminder of her old life. Done right and Harts Creek would lose its appeal faster than a three-legged dog. Another nudge and the fantasy of living on her own would collapse completely.
What did Dakota miss most about being an heiress? What would any woman miss?
He thought about her over-sized T-shirts and flour-covered jeans, her short hair and frumpy glasses. The quintessential Cinderella in the ashes.
A smile lifted the corner of his mouth as an idea sprouted to life in his mind.
