One part of his mind accepted that what Destiny was doing could be good for him and his cause. The other part, the part in turmoil, wanted to whisk Felicity away and keep her safe from Destiny and anyone else. He shook his head at his own thoughts. He couldn’t have it both ways. There was no way for him to have the Bancroft as well as the woman who currently owned the place. And he certainly wasn’t interested in talking about himself or his uncle Vern. “We’re done here.”
“Then I’d watch your back if I were you.”
“Is that a threat?” His tone was like ice.
“No. It’s a promise.”
She stopped running and Blake shot ahead, leaving her and her shallow threats behind. He hadn’t made it to his current level in the company without making a few enemies along the way. Destiny’s threats didn’t scare him. Besides, that’s what his security guards were paid to protect him from.
What did disturb him was the fact that he hadn’t taken Destiny up on her offer to tarnish Felicity’s reputation and ultimately her ability to make the hotel a success.
Why did he hesitate now? This was business after all.
Was what she’d shown him over the past two days actually changing his mind—that the Bancroft was more than just a hotel to many people? Did he have the right to destroy all that, regardless of what he thought about Felicity?
Blake groaned at the thought of her. He couldn’t seem to forget the way she smelled or the way she moved. Her lithe body was a symphony of grace, and all too easily he could imagine her in his arms.
His hands flexed unconsciously, as if trying to dispel the sensation of Felicity beneath his touch last night on the balcony. She had been soft and warm and sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted before. What was it about her that intrigued him so? Just the thought of her fingers brushing against his flesh made his blood thicken and his body tense.
He stared off into the distance, trying to regain control of his desire without much success. Not when he knew what lay ahead. They would spend the weekend together in close proximity. If he’d thought her hard to resist in Seattle, she would be temptation itself on their trip. His original goal had been to prove to her that the Bancroft deserved to become a leader in green technology. He would convince her of that, and so much more. A slow smile came to his lips. He could accomplish both tasks in the proper setting.
Felicity had agreed to give him two whole days, but he’d never mentioned exactly where he intended to take her. On that thought, Blake pulled out his cell phone. He had two hours to arrange an alternative plan.
When Felicity entered the lobby that morning, she found Mary Beth waiting for her. Felicity barely had time to offer her friend a greeting, before Mary Beth whisked her out of the front entrance and into Blake’s unengaged limousine parked in the circular drive.
“I hope you don’t mind, but when I saw Peter waiting here this morning, I asked him if he would escort us around town,” Mary Beth said. “I know I should have asked you first, but this seemed so much more expedient. We’ll have more time for shopping this way.”
“No, I don’t mind,” Felicity said as Mary Beth ushered her into the backseat. “Where are we going?”
Mary Beth stepped into the limousine, and Peter closed the door. “We’ll start at Luly Lang on Fourth Avenue.”
As Peter started the car, Mary Beth settled back against the plush leather seats. “Lord, I love this car almost as much as I love spending other people’s money.”
In the rearview mirror, Felicity could see Peter smile at the two of them before he returned his gaze to the road. It didn’t take long to drive down the hills to the shopping core of Seattle’s downtown between Fifth and Sixth Avenues. Peter pulled the limousine to the curb and came around to open the door.
Mary Beth stepped out. “Come on, let’s get started. We don’t have much time.”
Felicity hesitated at the entrance of the high-end boutique. “I think we are shopping in the wrong end of town for me. I can’t afford—”
“Felicity, you helped me once. Please let me help you now. This is important. In order to play in Blake’s world, you have to look like you belong there. Besides,” Mary Beth said as she linked Felicity’s arm with hers and pulled her toward the entrance, “as owner of the Bancroft Hotel, you have a certain image to uphold.”
Felicity hesitated a moment more as Mary Beth’s words sank in. Finally, she allowed Mary Beth to drag her along into the high-end designer store. Mary Beth was right. For the next two days, she would need to elevate herself to Blake’s level, and she’d never felt more dull and inadequate as she did when she was in Blake’s vibrant presence. “Only a few things . . .” Felicity conceded.
Mary Beth nodded as she moved about the store. “You follow food blogs, but I follow couture. I still remember the days when this used to be my life.”
When it came to fashion, Mary Beth did know what she was doing; she proved it every day by dressing better than anyone else Felicity knew. And she did it all on a limited budget.
“Why can’t we shop at the stores you usually go to?” Felicity asked, still hesitant about spending more money than was absolutely necessary.
“Because you need the best—not an imitation of the best—to take on a man like Blake.”
Reluctantly, Felicity nodded.
Mary Beth responded with a confident smile as she turned back to the garments near her fingertips. “You need warm colors. Or black. You’d look stunning in black. I’m thinking a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt. Let’s play up your assets.”
“My what?” Felicity laughed.
Mary Beth frowned at her. “Do you own a mirror? In the right clothes we’ll show off your small waist and curves.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it. You’re the only chef I know who doesn’t look like she’s a world-class chef around the waist.”
“Get serious, Mary Beth. I’m like everyone else.”
A supercilious look crossed Mary Beth’s face. “You really have no idea just how beautiful you are, do you?”
“I’m an ugly duckling.”
“No. You’re a swan.” Mary Beth’s eyes filled with humor. “Wait and see. When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to deny it.”
Felicity stood in front of a giant bay of mirrors with her arms up, while Mary Beth and one of the saleswomen fitted her with dress after dress. Even though she was a little dismayed about the amount of money they were spending, Felicity forced herself to relax and remember Mary Beth’s advice about fitting into Blake’s world. When they’d finished at Luly Lang, Mary Beth led her to more of the stores along Seattle’s retail core.
An hour and a half later, they were back in the limousine. Felicity leaned back against the plush leather interior with a sigh of relief. Four stores, three dresses, two tops, and a swimsuit later, she was more tired than if she’d cooked in her kitchen for two days straight. “I’m glad we found the dresses we did.”
“I think you should wear the mocha-colored dress for whatever formal event Blake has planned. It’s wonderful with your skin.”
“Yeah, it shows so much of it,” Felicity said dryly.
“That will be to your advantage, my dear.”
“Peter, take us to 1910 Post Alley.”
Felicity startled. “We’re not going back to the hotel? I need to meet Blake at noon.”
Mary Beth raised a brow. “You have time for this. Besides, he’s not going anywhere without his driver.”
For the next twenty minutes, she and Mary Beth sat in a charming teahouse in Seattle’s Pike Place Market enjoying a cup of chamomile tea served in Sèvres china cups of almost transparent delicacy. The floor-to-ceiling windows allowed them to watch visitors to the Market while they sat back and relaxed for a few brief moments. Mary Beth had been right once again. The cup of tea was the perfect end to their shopping trip.
“Are you ready for what Blake has in store for you over the next few days?” Mary Beth asked.
Felicity nod
ded. “I’ve taken care of everything my father might need while I’m gone. When the hospital releases him, he’ll return to the assisted living facility. He’ll have a private nurse for the next couple of weeks. She’ll see to his therapy and make sure he’s okay while I’m gone.”
“Sounds like you’re ready to take Blake on.”
Felicity grimaced. “I don’t think anyone could ever be ready to do battle with that man.” She sighed. “Even with a private nurse, I’m still nervous about leaving my father. I’ll be worried about him the whole time.”
“I’ll look in on him for you.”
Felicity gave her friend an appreciative smile. “I hate adding an extra burden—”
“It’s no burden,” she interrupted. “My brother is more than happy to help out with the baby. Amelia really likes her uncle, too. I feel so lucky to have turned my life around.”
“It wasn’t luck that did that. It was your hard work.”
“Do you have a game plan for dealing with Blake on his turf, other than dressing the part?” Mary Beth asked over a sip of her tea.
A game plan. “I’m not sure I have any plan at all other than to try to persuade him that the Bancroft should stay as it is.”
Mary Beth nodded. “You’ll be fine. Especially now. You’re different since meeting Blake.”
“How so?” Felicity set down her cup.
Mary Beth wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure exactly. But I’d say you’re not so easy to intimidate.”
Felicity laughed. “I don’t know about that. I was very intimidated by the salespeople at Luly Lang and Neiman Marcus.”
Mary Beth chuckled. “They’re paid to be intimidating. Regardless of them, you’re definitely more in control since you’ve met Blake.”
“There is so much more at stake, that’s why.”
“That’s not a bad thing, Felicity.” Mary Beth shrugged. “Who knows, perhaps you’ll come back from San Francisco and be a force to be reckoned with. Blake won’t stand a chance against you.”
In that moment, Felicity hoped Mary Beth was right for a third time that day. Blake was a powerful opponent. She would have to be just as determined and just as strong if she were going to keep what she so desperately wanted.
CHAPTER TEN
After his run, Blake returned to the hotel and placed a call to Marcus. “Any news from Jamison about the offer on the Heritage Hotel?”
“The old guy wants to speak with you in person,” Marcus replied in his usual efficient tone.
Blake frowned impatiently. “That won’t work. I’m heading out of town. Can we speak over the phone?”
“He’s a traditionalist. He likes to do his business face to face.”
Blake glanced at his watch. He still had an hour before he had to meet Felicity. “Then set us up for a Skype call. I want to get this taken care of, and soon.”
“Why the hurry? That’s not like you.”
“I just want it all settled. Take care of it. That’s what I pay you to do,” Blake said.
There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. “Can you give me ten minutes to set up the call?” Marcus asked.
That would give him time for a shower. “Meet you online in ten.” Blake hung up and headed for the shower. Ten minutes later he greeted Donald Jamison across the computer screen. “Good morning, Mr. Jamison. I appreciate you meeting me on such short notice.”
The older man set his lips stubbornly. “You and I both know that I don’t have a choice about selling my property to you, but I wanted to talk to you in person about tearing down the hotel.” His voice quavered, and, for the first time, Blake hesitated when it came to pushing one of his adversaries into a corner.
He had the old man right where he wanted him. Two days ago, he would have forged ahead without a moment’s thought. “Why are you so resistant to me tearing the place down?”
“The truth?” he asked, his features suddenly drawn.
“Yes,” Blake replied.
Jamison met his gaze. “My Jenny died here. If you tear the place down, then you also take away my last memories of her.”
Blake reacted to the words with guilt and an unusual surge of compassion. The memory of the pictures Felicity had shown him last night played across his mind. His lips twisted into a bittersweet smile. “I do understand.” He paused for a moment, thinking, then sighed. “Would you be open to an alternative offer?”
“And what might that be?”
“Seventy-two million. You stay as a resident of the hotel to oversee its management and restoration.”
Jamison’s tired gray eyes brightened with surprise and perhaps even tears. “You’re not going to tear it down?”
“You make a compelling argument.” Blake released a sigh. “No, I won’t tear it down.” How could he do so with a clear conscience? “I’ll have Marcus draft the agreement if we have a deal.”
Jamison nodded. “Please forgive me for saying this, I don’t mean it to sound condescending, but I’m proud of you, Blake.”
“Thank you, sir,” Blake replied. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should, just as you should know that I’m suddenly very proud to be part of Bancroft Industries.”
After settling a few other necessary details, they signed off. Blake sat back in his chair still a little baffled at his unusual behavior. It was the first time he’d ever negotiated a deal that had absolutely nothing to do with monetary value. It was so unlike him, and he didn’t want to contemplate why.
An hour later, Blake and Felicity were seated in the plush lounge area on his private jet, preparing for departure from Boeing Field.
Felicity’s eyes were wide as she settled into the soft leather seat and buckled her seat belt. “You own your own plane?”
“What gave it away—the Bancroft Industries logo on the side?” He rarely saw his world through the eyes of anyone other than business associates with a similar lifestyle.
A curious mix of excitement and tension radiated from her. “This isn’t a plane; it’s a flying mansion.”
He shrugged as the plane taxied down the runway. “I like to work while I travel. The plane gives me an office, a bedroom, a dining area, a bar, and a bathroom complete with a shower.” Blake covered Felicity’s hand with his. For a moment he thought she would pull away. Then, slowly, her hand turned and held tight to his. He mustn’t read anything into it. She seemed particularly tense since walking onto the plane. He couldn’t blame her. She’d just left her entire support team behind. The woman was open and vulnerable. An inexplicable irritation moved through him at the thought. Would he use her malleability to his advantage? Such tactics wouldn’t have stopped him before. But with her, his usual business dealings felt wrong.
“Do you fly much?” he asked, giving her hand a squeeze, whether trying to comfort himself or her, he wasn’t certain.
“Not since Italy, and rarely before then. You might have noticed I have a hard time relinquishing control. I like things a certain way.”
He raised a brow as the jet became airborne. “You have OCD?”
“No, I have CDO, or at least that’s what it should be if the letters were arranged alphabetically,” she said, her tone serious, but her body relaxed.
Blake studied her a moment until he noticed the corner of her mouth quirk. He responded with a smile. “Very funny.”
She shrugged, her gaze going to the window as they gained altitude. “I do hate being out of my element. Please promise me there will be no surprises.”
He couldn’t promise her that. That’s what this trip was all about—unsettling her, putting her off balance, winning her over to his way of thinking about the hotel. “We had an agreement. You had two days, now I get mine. I intend to show you how a hotel can be socially responsible and environmentally friendly without sacrificing service.”
Her gaze shot back to his. “That’s how I run the restaurant,” she said, her tone defensive.
“You do a terrific job there
. It’s much harder to accomplish with a hotel unless you do some major revisions.”
“It’s not the remodeling that disturbs me. It’s the effect it will have on my employees’ lives. They need their jobs to survive.”
An almost desperate passion simmered in her voice whenever she brought up that point about her employees. Was there some sort of hardship in her life he had yet to be aware of? As he mulled over the thought, he abstractedly squeezed her hand once more. “Don’t worry about anything for the next two days. Just give yourself over to seeing things through different eyes. Will you promise me that?”
He saw a moment’s hesitation before she nodded and leaned her head back against the soft leather seat. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be testy. I’m not used to shopping for clothing first thing in the morning.”
“Only fish? They are so much less demanding of your energy.”
His quip brought a smile to her face. “Fish, I understand. Fancy clothing is a world unknown to me. It’s exhausting.” She sighed. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“I hire people to do it for me.” At that moment, his attendant appeared beside them, offering two Waterford flutes filled with champagne. “Thank you, Kayoko,” Blake said with a smile at the small Japanese flight attendant who’d been handling all his travel needs for the past five years.
Felicity took a glass and stared down at the bubbling liquid. “If I drink this, I’ll probably fall asleep.”
Blake took a sip of his champagne, hoping Felicity would do the same. “We have a bedroom you may use, if you would like to take a nap.”
After a sip of her champagne, she set the glass down and sent Blake an apologetic glance. “A two-hour nap sounds fabulous. Would you mind?”
“Not at all.” He released her hand. “Kayoko will show you to the bedroom. Make yourself comfortable. I have plenty of work to do while you sleep.” It was the truth. He’d ignored the business for the past few days he’d been in Felicity’s company—something he couldn’t ever remember doing since he’d taken over the company from his uncle. “Sleep well. If you need me, I’ll be right here.”
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