Mergers & Matrimony

by Leigh, Allison

  Instead, he caught her hand in midair.

  She stilled, looking at his hand on hers. His fingers were warm as he tilted her hand. The diamond setting on her wedding band had turned slightly on her finger and he pressed his thumb against it, moving it until the ring was centered once more. The diamond caught the light and sent gleaming prisms dancing around them.

  “You do not eat enough,” he said. His thumb nudged the setting once more. The prisms died as the ring slid much too easily around her finger. “What is it you worry about?”

  She managed a light laugh and tugged her hand free of his. “Well, I won’t worry that my Pilates trainer is ineffective.”

  “Pilates?”

  “It’s a type of exercise.”

  “You need less Pilates, and more food.”

  “Gosh. Thanks, Mori. Every woman wants to be told she’s too skinny. It’s right up there with being told she’s too heavy.”

  His slashing eyebrows pulled together over his nose. “I am not wishing to tell you these things. I am expressing concern.”

  “You have no reason to be concerned,” she assured, but her voice didn’t hold the ring of authority she’d have preferred. “I’m not suffering from consumption. I’ll summon strength enough to celebrate the merger when it’s complete, believe me.”

  “As I told you before, not everything is about business.”

  She needed to remind him of her response to that, but for some reason she just didn’t have the energy to do so. She reached for her wineglass only to realize it was empty. Their plates were empty, too.

  When had they managed to polish off most of Gertrude’s meal?

  Her head was most definitely swimming. “Can I get you anything else, Mori? Gertrude has left a fruit tray if you’d care for something sweet.”

  “No, thank you.”

  She began clearing away the dishes, moving them to the sink, and Mori rose, helping her. She couldn’t recall George ever doing such a thing, and they’d been married for ten years.

  Then, when Mori rolled up his sleeves and began filling the sink with hot water, she decided she must have had way too much wine. “What are you doing?”

  He’d discovered the narrow compartment beneath the sink. “Soap.” He pulled out the bottle of liquid soap and squirted some beneath the running water. “Aids in cleaning,” he explained blandly.

  “Mori, you’re not going to wash dishes.”

  He reached for a wineglass and without thought, she took hold of it, too. “You’re a guest, for goodness’ sake.”

  “And we will work faster together, than alone.” He surrounded her wrist with his free hand and gently worked the glass free of her grip to set it in the soapy bubbles. Without looking, he reached out and flipped off the water.

  He did not release her wrist.

  She felt parched again and swallowed, moistening her lips. “Mori—” But she didn’t know what to say, so she fell silent.

  “We will be concluding the merger soon.” His voice was deep. Low.

  “Yes.” Her answer was little more than a whisper. “I…look forward to it.”

  “Do you?” With barely half a step, he closed what was left of the distance between them. His thumb smoothed slowly back and forth against her wrist, pressing gently against the pulse that beat there.

  “Yes.” This one was even more faint.

  His hand slid up from her wrist to her forearm. Her elbow.

  “This…isn’t wise.”

  His hand grazed beyond her elbow to her upper arm and even higher, cupping her shoulder. “No,” he agreed and lowered his head, slowly covering her lips with his.

  A soft sound rose in her throat and time seemed to grind to a halt as he explored the shape of her lips, teasingly light, tempting, exploring.

  Wine, she thought hazily. He tasted slightly of wine. She leaned into him, sucking in a breath when his hand slid to the small of her back.

  Then there was nothing exploratory, nothing teasing. There was only heat and thick, drowning want.

  She clutched his arms, feeling a need to steady herself, when there really was no need, for his arms were strong and warm and surrounding.

  “Helen?”

  She moaned a little, angling her head, wanting more of Mori’s kiss, more of Mori.

  “Helen? Are you here?”

  Mori lifted his head, his eyebrows drawn fiercely together. “There is a woman calling for you.”

  “Helen?” The voice drew nearer.

  Mori had barely set her away from him, putting some semblance of propriety between them, when Delia stepped into the kitchen. Andrew was right behind her.

  “There you are,” Delia said. “Didn’t you hear me calling?”

  “Sorry.” Helen crossed to the woman who’d captured the heart of her youngest stepson, and kissed her cheek. “You’re looking wonderful,” she said truthfully, before either Delia or Andrew could question her further. “Pregnancy just seems to agree with you more every day.”

  Delia pressed her hand down her abdomen that seemed particularly pronounced given her petite size. “Thank you.” Her blue gaze traveled beyond Helen to Mori. “Mr. Taka, it is a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Yes, it is.” Andrew moved over to shake the man’s hand. “Welcome to Chicago. My uncle told us you were having dinner here tonight.” Though Andrew’s voice was perfectly genial, Helen still felt his censure. “I trust my father’s wife has treated you well.”

  “Helen is a most gracious hostess,” Mori replied.

  “I was just ready to set out fruit and make some coffee. You’ll stay, of course? Delia, be a darling, would you, and show Mori and your groom to the library, while I finish up a few things in here.”

  Delia was no fool. She clearly knew she’d interrupted something. The tinge of sympathy in her eyes as she smoothly redirected the men out of the kitchen told Helen so.

  The moment they were gone, Helen turned toward the sink, grabbing the edges of the counter hard enough to bruise her palms.

  Get a grip on yourself, Helen Hanson.

  “Helen? Are you all right?”

  She straightened like a shot at the sound of her stepson’s voice. “Of course, Andrew. I’m sorry that I didn’t think to call you, and Evan and Meredith, as well, to join us for dinner.” She quickly reached for the porcelain canister that contained ground coffee. “I don’t know where my mind has been these days.” She rapidly filled a filter and set the coffeemaker into action. “Did Delia’s checkup go all right this afternoon?” She yanked open the refrigerator door and grabbed the fruit tray that Mori had already declined.

  “Delia and the baby are both fine.” Andrew eyed her closely. “You look frazzled. What’s wrong?”

  Nothing that some time alone with Mori wouldn’t cure.

  The thought had her cheeks turning hot. “You’d be frazzled, too, if you had the head of TAKA Incorporated in your home with hardly any warning,” she said and thrust the tray into his hands. He had to either take it, or let the beautifully laden crystal tray fall to the floor. “Take that to the library, would you? I’ll be right in with plates and napkins and such.”

  But Andrew, as stubborn as he had been since he was eighteen and not at all keen on the idea of her as a stepmother, didn’t budge. “Has he upset you?”

  She stopped and stared. Yes, she and Andrew had made progress in the last months, just as she’d made progress with his brothers. But she hadn’t taken to convincing herself that they’d made an about-face in the family love and loyalty department.

  Yet Andrew—his deep brown eyes narrowed—looked truly concerned.

  For her.

  And the fact of it had her throat tightening. “No,” she assured gently. “He hasn’t upset me.”

  “Then why are you flushed?”

  “The kitchen.” She waved nonspecifically. “The oven. You know. Now, go. I’m sure Mori would like to hear about the rash of accounts you’ve landed this month.”

  “Helen.�
� Impatience tightened the already-sharp angle of his jaw. “You would tell me if something were wrong.”

  Oh, Lord. Why did the man choose now to show the interest that she would have given her right arm to have in years past? She did the unthinkable and reached up to kiss his cheek. “You’re a good man, Andrew. Your father would be proud of you.”

  A statement that only made his slightly thin lips twist. “That isn’t an answer, Helen.”

  “It’s the one you’re getting,” she told him, moving to a tall cupboard that housed serving trays. “Now, please. I need a few minutes of peace. I’ll be right in.”

  “I don’t like this. Something is—”

  “Everything is fine.” She began assembling cups and saucers on the tray she’d pulled out.

  He sighed, and left with the fruit platter. She rapidly finished preparing the coffee service, remembered in the nick of time that Mori didn’t drink it, and hurriedly boiled water for tea. While she did that, she sent a hasty call to Meredith, to see if she could get her and Evan over to the house in the next few minutes.

  She could, and they did, arriving only minutes after Helen carried the coffee and tea into the library. Not only had her middle stepson and his significant other come, but David and his wife, Nina, arrived with them.

  Suddenly, it seemed as if the house was full of people. Someone had turned on some low music and the atmosphere had turned festive.

  She busied herself refilling cups, greeting Meredith and Nina, and generally letting the Hanson men do their thing.

  But across the room, Mori’s gaze met hers and it made her breath grow short, all over again.

  What would have happened had Delia and Andrew not interrupted them?

  The look in Mori’s eyes answered that.

  Chapter Eight

  “Helen? This is Richard. I need to know when you’re going to be back in Tokyo. There is noise that Yukio Taka is planning to make a move to unseat Mori as CEO of TAKA. We need to talk.”

  Helen listened with disbelief to the message on her voice mail. Richard and Jenny had returned to Tokyo from their honeymoon while she was back in Chicago. She’d only spoken with them once, and had been truly glad for the conversation. She’d also wanted to call a dozen times since, but was very aware that the new relationship she was forging with Jenny was still tender. Delicate.

  Now, she dialed Richard’s number in Tokyo, completely disregarding the time difference. When he finally answered, his voice was full of sleep.

  “’Lo?”

  “Richard, it’s Helen.”

  “It’s two in the morning.”

  “I’m sorry. Tell Jenny I’m sorry, too. I just heard your voice mail.”

  “I left it yesterday.”

  She’d been with Mori yesterday. “I was…tied up.”

  “Yeah. With Mori Taka, according to Jack, who heard the news from about ten sources at Hanson. What’s going on?”

  She pressed her fingertips to her eyes. “That’s what I’d like to know. How serious a threat is Yukio to Mori’s position at TAKA?”

  There was a faint delay. “Serious,” Richard finally said. “He’s managed to have a special board meeting called.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “Mismanagement, conflict of interest. He may have tossed in another couple of allegations, but those are enough.”

  Stunned surprise struck her dumb for a long moment. “But TAKA has grown under Mori’s tenure as CEO. How can that be mismanagement? And conflict of interest over what?”

  “His personal involvement with a principal of Hanson Media Group.”

  She groaned, wanting to kick herself. After all the hurdles they’d run into when it came to the merger, she hadn’t once thought of her…what—friendship?—whatever it was that had been growing between her and Mori as a hindrance on TAKA’s part. If anything, by becoming personally involved with Mori Taka, she was more afraid of giving the man an edge against Hanson Media.

  “There’s no personal involvement,” she told Richard evenly.

  Mori had left that morning to return to Tokyo. He hadn’t been in Chicago even twenty-four hours, and he’d been with her even less than that.

  He’d left for his hotel when Andrew and Evan and the girls had left, since Evan and Meredith offered to drive him to his hotel.

  There had been no more kisses, no more tantalizing touches. No more anything, except a call that morning to bid goodbye and to tell her that negotiations would be resumed in a week.

  “What do we do about this, Richard?”

  “Jack and I have an appointment in the morning. We’ll draft a statement countering the allegation, but quite honestly, the TAKA board isn’t looking at us. They’re only concerned at the moment with Mori.”

  “But if he’s unseated and his father is reinstated, Yukio will kill the merger. He’s made it very plain that he doesn’t approve of it. That’s why Mori came to Chicago in the first place—to apologize for his father’s latest tactic at the meeting Mori missed.”

  “Helen, you do realize that his trip there is being used as proof of Yukio’s claim.”

  “There’s nothing inappropriate going on!” But there probably would have been, had they not been interrupted. She squashed the little voice that prodded her conscience with that particular fact.

  “You and he had dinner, alone, a few nights before you left Tokyo.”

  “His daughter was with us! Are there people following us?”

  “Daughter present or not, Mori Taka can’t make a move in Tokyo without someone taking note. Particularly when he’s in the company of a beautiful blonde.” Richard’s voice was matter-of-fact. “At this point, TAKA stands to lose plenty if the deal is killed. They’ve already invested a lot of time, effort and money. Yukio may still have some pull with the board, but Mori is also on solid ground. He was second in command for fifteen years with an impeccable record, and has only seen successes in the past two since he became CEO.”

  “Does Mori know what’s going on? He’s probably in the air right now.”

  “He knows. Be sure of it. And he’s undoubtedly taking countermeasures. Yukio Taka may have gotten the board to agree to a meeting, but that doesn’t mean he has enough votes in his pocket to swing a coup against his own son. Plus, the very act of him attempting makes TAKA look bad. You know how well that’s going to go over with their highly traditional board members? It won’t. Don’t worry, Helen. We’ve weathered worse and the ship hasn’t yet sunk. It’s not going to now, either.”

  “I hope you’re right. I hadn’t planned to come to Tokyo until the weekend. But I think I should get there now.”

  “Being at Mori’s beck and call isn’t going to help the situation.”

  “I’m not concerned about Mori.” It was a blatant lie and she knew it. “Other than that—ironically—he’s our best chance at finalizing the deal. But if that board thinks they’re going to besmirch anything concerning Hanson—including me—I want to be there to face it.”

  “Well. You’re the boss.” Still, he sounded somewhat reluctant. “Just remember, my friend, that this isn’t Chicago. Having a woman of power challenge them has been tough as it is. We don’t want to exacerbate the situation.”

  “Spoken like a lawyer,” she said. “Look, kiss your wife for me and go back to sleep. I’ll call when I get into Tokyo.”

  He laughed softly. “Kiss her for you? What about for me?”

  “I have complete confidence that you’ve already taken care of that.”

  After Richard hung up, Helen sat there staring at the phone in her hand.

  What would she do if the merger fell through? What would George’s boys do? And Samantha and Meredith, both of whom held valuable positions with Hanson Media?

  She didn’t doubt for a moment any one of their abilities in finding positions elsewhere. To a one, they were talented and committed.

  But they shouldn’t have to make such a move!

  She hung up the phone and picked up the g
old pen she’d given George. Using it, carrying it with her, was as much talisman as reprimand. “George, what if you were wrong?”

  “Wrong about what?”

  She jumped, dropping the pen. It rolled across the desktop. “David. I didn’t realize you were here. What can I do for you?”

  He entered the room and leaned casually over the back of one of the wing chairs that sat in front of her desk. “Maybe I should be asking what I can do for you.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Look, Helen. I know George wasn’t…the best of husbands. And I didn’t do a whole hell of a lot to make things easier for you while he was alive.”

  Her stomach tightened. “David, of all people, you were probably the easiest one to get along with.”

  “Sure, because we hardly had any involvement at all. I just wanted to tell you that I know it hasn’t been easy for you. And I’m sorry. You’ve been more loyal to Hanson Media than anyone—hell, even George, considering his mismanagement and cover-up of it—and I want you to know that you’re doing a good job.”

  She wasn’t about to start bawling in the office, but she definitely felt like it. “Thank you, David. I appreciate that. But Jack would have come through if he’d been given an opportunity.”

  “Jack and Andrew and particularly Evan, after being left out of George’s will, would have been happy to dump the place out of pure frustration and their feelings for the man who was their father but hardly acted like one.”

  “Maybe they’d have wanted to,” Helen agreed softly, “but I don’t think it would ever have come to pass. They’d have gone down with this ship, because it is Hanson.”

  “I’d like to think you’re right. I know they would now, but I’m not so sure they would have eight, nine months ago. In any case, I figured it was time I said how I felt.”

  “You’ve heard from Jack, I suppose.”

  He nodded, and of course, he knew the ramifications if Yukio were to succeed. “Who would have thought that we’d be in a position to want Morito Taka in place, when he seemed to be our biggest obstacle to overcome?”

  She nodded, unable to get a word out of her tight throat. She would never forgive herself if she aided, even unknowingly, in Mori’s downfall.