“You’re a novelty, Madison.”
“Oh, please. I can’t be the first person to realize your roar is worse than your bite.”
“I thought it was bark.”
“Dogs bark. Lions roar.”
“So I’m a lion, just not a very intimidating one.”
She gave his arm a sympathetic pat. “Don’t let it upset you. I’m sure you intimidate those who aren’t as shrewd a judge of character as I am.” A sudden thought occurred to her. “Is that why you want my assistance with your current job? To serve as an impartial observer?”
“Not quite.”
“Then it must be because I’m beautiful, brilliant and an expert when it comes to financial matters,” she teased.
“True, every word. But, I’m afraid that’s not it, either.”
“I’m crushed.”
“Wait until we get to your office. I’ll answer all your questions there.”
That brought her up short. It suddenly occurred to her that his business might involve her more personally than she’d first suspected. There was only one way to find out. “This has something to do with me, doesn’t it?” she asked with unabashed directness.
“Let’s just say that I’m a man who believes in covering all the bases and right now, you’re one of the bases.”
She accepted his statement with an outwardly equable nod. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“Wise decision.” He stopped her before she could exit the hotel, catching hold of her elbow and turning her into his body. “There’s something else you might want to remember, as well.”
Harry could actually feel her withdrawal, her posture switching from relaxed to bristly, just as it had in his suite. He didn’t care for the change. “And what’s that?” she asked.
“You can trust me not to hurt you. You can trust me to have your best interests at heart. And you can trust me to protect you and keep you safe.” He smiled. “Having a scary roar can come in handy, particularly when it’s backed with sharp teeth.”
Confusion softened her features, revealing a vulnerability he’d have done anything to ease. “I don’t need anyone to protect me.”
“It wasn’t a multiple choice offer.”
She refused to relent. “I suggest we keep our relationship on a business footing.”
“I’m going to do my best to change your mind.”
“You know, I’m beginning to think we’re nothing alike, after all,” she complained. “I thought you were a reasonable man.”
“I am.”
“Reasonable—so long as I see things your way?”
He buried a smile. “See? Perfectly reasonable.”
Aside from slanting him a look that combined exasperation with amusement, Madison didn’t reply. She simply sashayed across the lobby in her eye-catching heels and bottom-hugging red skirt, completely oblivious to the attention she garnered. Harry watched in admiration. The woman never ceased to amaze him.
It didn’t take them long to reach her office at the north end of the city. He was curious to see the place, wondering what sort of setup the Sunflowers had felt necessary for their financial advisor and family troubleshooter. The building was a small house that had originally been a turn-of-the-century residence before the city had overrun its boundaries. It rested in the shadow of Queen Anne’s Hill, tucked between a jumble of modern stucco office buildings and older homes that had so far escaped conversion.
The leaded beveled-glass windows fronting the street were originals, as was the etched-panel door. Inside, the parlor served as a reception area and the formal dining room across from it was an office outfitted with the latest electronic equipment. A huge glass-and-chrome desk occupied the center of the room, at distinct odds with the traditional surroundings. The purple-haired teenager sitting behind the desk was even more out of sync.
She eyed him through an inch-thick layer of mascara, her expression one of deep distrust. “Don’t judge by appearances, pops,” she said before he could utter a single word.
“Rosy?” He hazarded a guess.
“Like who else would it be?” Headphones hung around her neck and she shoved them on top of her spiked hair, adjusting the microphone so it hovered directly in front of her glossy red mouth. She stabbed an extension on the phone with a two-inch artificial nail. “You got Rosy. What’s your problem? And it better be good.”
“She takes a little getting used to,” Madison murmured.
“You think?”
“She’s very good at keeping people in line.”
“Now that I believe.” He glanced around. “Maybe we should talk in your office.”
“It’s in the back.”
Rosy looked up from the note she’d been scribbling. “Sunny’s on her way in. Something about yesterday’s escapade. That was her word, by the way. Escapade.”
Madison choked.
Black-tipped nails flicked through a stack of neon-green messages. “Harley’s called four times. He wants you to know that the emergency is now a Beemer. He also complained that he hasn’t been able to reach you for the past twenty-four hours.” The small hoop earring decorating the end of Rosy’s eyebrow punctuated her questioning glance. “What did you do? Turn off your cell?”
“It drowned.”
“That must have been one hell of a picnic.”
“Anything else?” Harry interrupted.
She turned to look at him, a blue-eyed glare finding its way through all the mascara. “Funny. I could have sworn I was talkin’ to Madison.”
Smart-mouthed brat. “Wrong. Your employer is going to her office while you and I enjoy a brief conversation. Then I’ll be joining her and you’re going to hold all her calls. Now is there anything else you need to tell her before that happens?”
Madison started to intercede. One glimpse of his expression and she spun on her heel and stalked down the hallway. Something about the irritable swing of her hips warned that he’d be hearing about his presumptuousness.
Rosy shook her head in admiration. “You’re one tough hombre. I’ll give you that.”
“I’ve also got the muscle to back up my mouth. How about you?”
“Hell, no,” she scoffed. “It’s all talk.”
A swift grin slashed across his face. “At least you’re honest.” His smile faded. “Now explain to me why Harley told Madison we’d be working together. Because I’m going to take him apart piece by piece if I don’t like the answer.”
Rosy’s eyes narrowed to two black smears. “Why should that upset you? It’s the truth, isn’t it?”
“It’s a possibility. I hadn’t decided whether to accept the job. I’m here for other reasons, if you’ll recall. You may also recall that if I decided to accept the assignment, I’d be the one explaining it to Madison.”
Rosy shrugged. “Go explain. No one’s stopping you.”
He fought for control. What was it about these Sunflowers? He’d never met so many people with so little regard for self-preservation. “Then the idea was actually yours?”
She snorted. “I’m not that stupid. This was Harley’s brilliant notion.” She had the nerve to laugh. “I think he got it from one of your rules. Something about working together and having Important Discussions. Sound familiar, Jones?”
Harry gritted his teeth, holding on to his temper by a thread. “Tell Harley I want to speak to him. In fact, tell your entire family I want to see them. For now, I’m going to have one of those Important Discussions with Madison. Do not let anyone interrupt us. Understood?”
“I think I can handle it.”
“Make very sure you do.”
Harry left Rosy’s office, turning in the same direction Madison had gone. There were two doors at the end of the hallway, one leading to a small, efficient kitchen, another into what must have once been a living room but now served as Madison’s office. He entered the room and closed the door behind him, looking around with pleasure.
With the exception of Rosy’s desk, the entire hous
e had been decorated in golden oaks and warm antique white walls. This room was no exception. But there was more, a definite essence of Madison’s presence that permeated the office, exuding a feminine charm captured within an efficient business-like setting. The couch and chairs were upholstered in a sunny yellow and bowls of fresh cut flowers accented the simple, natural wood furnishings. The total effect came across as cheerful, welcoming and—he couldn’t help smiling—practical.
Madison sat behind her desk and regarded him with a stoic expression. The look didn’t surprise him. She was a smart woman. The fact that she hadn’t figured out certain aspects of his presence long before this spoke more to her trusting nature and a certain amount of personal distraction than to a lack of intelligence or business acumen.
“Your family doesn’t seem to understand the concept of intimidation,” he offered as a conversational gambit.
She inclined her head. “That must be very frustrating for you.”
“I’ll survive.” Though Harley’s life expectancy remained in question.
“What did you need to talk to Rosy about?”
“I asked her why Harley told you to come to my hotel room to discuss our mutual business interests.”
“Our business interests.” She took a moment to absorb that and he waited for the inevitable questions. The first one she chose to ask, though, took him by surprise. “Does it matter who told me?”
“Yes. Your family knew I’d planned to initiate the discussion with you in my own good time and in my own way.”
She nodded as though he’d confirmed her suspicions. “Just out of curiosity… When would that have been? Before you’d seduced me or after?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Principle 7: Trust, Honesty,
and the Honorable Way, Or…
What to tell your partner about your past!
“OH, IT definitely would have been after I seduced you,” Harry assured her. “To be honest, your seduction topped my list of priorities. My business interests with you come dead last.”
Madison shoved back her chair and stood. “This isn’t a joke.”
“I’m glad you agree.”
She turned and crossed to the French doors behind her desk. They opened onto a walled garden overrun with flowers. “Why are you here, Harry? And I’d appreciate the truth this time.”
“That isn’t what you want to know.” He came up behind her and she stiffened, her tension communicating itself in the rigid set of her shoulders and the ramrod alignment of her spine. “Ask your real question.”
“The men at the hotel were speculating about your current project…who, what, where.” She turned just enough to risk a glance in his direction. He could see the devastation he’d caused and he swore beneath his breath. There ought to be an iron-clad rule about mixing business with pleasure—one he stuck to. Next time, there would be. “I’m your project, aren’t I?” she asked.
In more ways than she could ever guess. “Yes.”
“Which means I’m Dane’s research assignment. I’m also the favor Bartholomew asked of you.” The faintest tremor of her chin betrayed her and she returned to studying the garden. “You mentioned the favor when we were trapped on the elevator. You’re supposed to take a look at my operation and see whether or not I’m doing an adequate job for my family, aren’t you?”
Their discussion wasn’t proceeding the way he’d planned. His business matters rarely went this drastically askew, which made it all the more annoying that it would happen now, when the stakes were so high and the ultimate objective so vital. He shook his head in exasperation. But then, very little about this assignment had anything to do with business. Perhaps that explained why fate seemed determined to screw him over.
“I told my father I’d consider checking out your operation,” he admitted. “But I wanted to get a feel for you and how you ran things before I determined whether it was worthwhile interfering.”
“Because we’re such small potatoes?”
He smiled. “Very small. But that’s not why I hesitated.”
“Then why?”
The tremor in her chin had invaded her voice. He wanted to gather her close, to hold her while he explained. She deserved whatever reassurances he could offer, as well as an apology for allowing matters to get so far out of hand. He started to reach out, but an untouchable remoteness encompassed her, warning she wouldn’t appreciate or accept his attempt to comfort. His arms dropped to his sides. Work the main problem, Jones. If he kept the personal aspects out of it for now, he might be able to see this thing through with minimal damage.
“I hesitated taking on this job because it isn’t strictly business,” he told her.
Madison took a moment to absorb his explanation before rejecting it with a single shake of her head. “Piffle.”
Tiny ringlets had escaped the intricate knot she’d anchored at the nape of her neck, the wayward curls providing a striking counterpoint to her rigid control. In fact, she sent out a barrage of mixed messages today.
She wore a severely cut suit, perfect for the office if it weren’t for the fact that it was street-corner red. Flaming stiletto heels decorated her feet, the dainty scraps of leather more appropriate for a hot night on the town than a day spent hiding beneath a desk. Her slicked-back hair was the severest style she’d worn to date, yet it exposed the most vulnerable and appealing nape he’d ever seen. And though her makeup was elegantly applied, her mouth had been lushly outlined in a wicked kiss-me-now shade that echoed the color of her suit.
It all added up to a woman who hadn’t quite decided whether today would be spent focused on business or on the man with whom she was conducting that business. It gave him the first shred of hope he’d experienced since arriving at her office.
“You said you were hesitant about taking on this job.” She splayed her hand across a small beveled windowpane set in the door, the gesture one of unconscious appeal. It was a dead giveaway. It didn’t take any effort on his part to realize she was reaching toward the sanctuary offered by the garden, a world of natural beauty and serenity containing none of the current turmoil swirling through her office. “What have you decided? Are you going to look us over or not?”
“Now that’s an interesting question.” The curls beckoned him, begging to be twined around his fingers. He ignored the insidious temptation. “To be honest, I have to weigh my options.”
“And what options are those?”
He reached around her and ran his index finger over the top of hers. “First consideration… How will business affect our relationship?”
She stilled at the tantalizing touch. “It won’t,” she whispered. “Because we don’t have a relationship.”
“Liar.” He stroked her middle finger. “Second consideration… If I take a look at your operation, will you resent my interference?”
This time she shivered. “Yes. But only because it’s not necessary.”
He caressed her ring finger. “Third consideration… And this one isn’t a question, but a statement of fact. If I don’t take a look, you’ll always wonder.”
Madison snatched her hand from beneath his and turned, her eyes dilating when she discovered how close he stood. “What will I wonder?”
“Whether you would have won.”
“This isn’t a game, Harry.” Passion infused her voice, underscoring how seriously she took their discussion. “This is my life.”
“We’re the same, you and I.” He said it more as a warning than an observation. “You’ve been pointing that out ever since we first met. I know how you’ll react if I take a walk. You’ll wonder if I would have found a way to improve your family’s financial situation. You’ll start questioning your decisions, playing guessing games with yourself that you can’t win, speculating whether or not I’d have made a different choice from the one you made, until the doubt eats you alive.”
“Not a chance,” she insisted. “I’m good at my job. In fact, I’m better than good.”
&nb
sp; “Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?”
Her eyes went dark with pain. “Oh, no?”
He released his breath in a long sigh. Hell. She knew. “Madison—”
“Bartholomew wouldn’t have asked you to step in unless someone from the family had requested it.”
He’d hoped she wouldn’t make that connection. Now that she had, he’d deal with it head-on. “Sunny asked him.” His response impacted like a blow, even though it could only have confirmed what she’d suspected. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t plan to tell you like this.”
“How were you going to do it?” The question escaped through stiff, white lips. In fact, everything about her had gone pale, at striking opposition to the darkness of her hair and eyes and the profusion of color at her back. “Were you going to find a way to make it seem like this was all my idea? Have me ask for your services, one financial advisor to another?”
“Something like that. Unfortunately, Harley decided to interfere.”
Anger eclipsed the hurt. “Did you really think I wouldn’t have seen through the deception?” she demanded. “That I wouldn’t have gotten suspicious at some point?”
“The truth would have come out eventually. I would have made sure it did. But I hoped to limit the impact, as well as the damage.” He gave in to temptation and smoothed a curl from her brow. “Instead, I’ve managed to make it worse. And I’m sorry about that.”
She sidestepped his touch. “You should have told me what you were up to from the beginning.”
“When? On the elevator while you were fighting claustrophobia?” He struggled to conceal his exasperation. “Should I have said, ‘Oh, by the way, your family has asked me to check out what sort of job you’re doing’?”
“Yes!” Another barrage of curls escaped her control, an outward expression of her inner turmoil. They rioted around her face in fiery disorder, spitfire ringlets that voiced her indignation more vehemently than mere words. “At least then it would have been out in the open and we could have dealt with the situation honestly.”
The Marriage Project Page 10
