The Boss's Surprise Son

by Teresa Carpenter

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the pilot has turned off the seat-belt sign. You are now free to move about the cabin.”

  The announcement washed over them like a bucket of cold water. They broke apart, and Savannah buried her face against Rick’s chest.

  The world came rushing back—the plane, other passengers, the near-death experience. For a while none of it had mattered; now it all did.

  She bit back a groan as her brain reengaged and she realized where she was. In the boss’s arms. This was not good, not good at all. It helped only slightly that Rick’s heartbeat matched the racing pace of her own.

  How to extricate herself?

  “Restroom.” She fumbled for her seat belt. “I’ve got to go.” Once she found the release, she bolted to her feet and escaped down the aisle. Luckily, there was a line of people waiting. Maybe it would last until they reached New York.

  Five people and two hours to kill? Not even she was that optimistic. Which meant she’d have to sit next to him with the blood still speeding way too fast through her system. Thank goodness her jacket hid the aroused state of her nipples because if it was cold in here, she didn’t feel it.

  All too soon she was sitting in her seat again, her jacket wrapped around her, staring at the gray hair of the man seated in front of her while Rick focused his attention on the ceiling.

  Not comfortable with being uncomfortable, she said, “Thank you. I was scared and you…helped me. It was very kind of you.”

  He made a choking sound. “Don’t mention it. Please.”

  “I wasn’t propositioning you.”

  He turned his head slowly and pinned her with an intense stare. “What are you going on about now?”

  “The other night at dinner when I asked about your dating rules. I wasn’t propositioning you.” She cleared her throat and dropped her eyes. “In case you think I’ve been throwing myself at you.”

  “I didn’t.” He went back to his contemplation of the ceiling. “I don’t.”

  Instead of reassuring Savannah, his simple dismissal struck a contrary chord. It wasn’t as if there was no chemistry between them. The last few minutes had proved that conclusively.

  “Well, all right then.” She let silence fall between them, telling herself she should be glad to have that worry gone. But she couldn’t help herself. “Why not?”

  Her pique must have sounded in her voice because he sighed.

  “I know when I’m being propositioned. And flirting isn’t your style. You’re too straightforward.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me the rules?”

  “Because there isn’t a hope in hell you’d ever abide by them.”

  “I don’t know how you can know that,” she retorted, stung.

  “The rules are about establishing personal boundaries to prevent expectations of a deeper relationship from forming. You have personal relationships with everyone.”

  “Not everyone.”

  “Everyone,” he insisted. “Including the mail boy.”

  “He goes to State, which is where my sister attends college. So yeah, we’ve chatted a few times.”

  “What’s his girlfriend’s name?”

  “Amber.”

  “I rest my case.”

  “That only proves I’m a good listener.”

  “I’ve worked with Molly for twelve years and I don’t even know her daughter’s name.”

  “Oh. Well.” His confession stunned her so she had no argument for him. “What was your point again?”

  “That my rules aren’t meant for you.”

  For a moment it sounded as if he meant that his rules didn’t apply to her, and a wild rush of pleasure bloomed in her. She quickly squashed it, first because she knew how he intended what he’d said, and second because he wasn’t for her.

  Anyone who worked with someone for twelve years and didn’t know something as intimate as her daughter’s name was too impersonal for Savannah.

  She could never be with someone who believed that work was more important than people. And that described Rick to a T.

  “You’re right,” she conceded. “Your rules aren’t for me.”

  To Savannah’s relief the trip concluded without further incident and they arrived in London exhausted but ready for the upcoming meeting. After spending fifteen hours practically joined at the thigh with Rick, she was ready to retreat to her own room.

  “Beautiful hotel,” she commented on the way to the elevator, admiring the large leather furnishings and dark woods amidst marble and crystal. “I see now why you were drawn to Crosse International.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked as they boarded the elevator.

  “The ambience. A modern feel in a traditional setting. You know, kind of a comfortable chic.”

  Rick simply nodded and she wondered if he was even listening. Except for business, he’d kept conversation between them to a minimum ever since the embrace on the flight to New York.

  Savannah closed her eyes and sighed at the thought of stretching out in a bed. She was so ready for some alone time.

  “It reminds me of the store back home,” she muttered.

  “What does?” Rick held the elevator door for her to exit.

  “The hotel. Oh, we’re right here.” Savannah had never been so happy to reach a destination. She slid her key card into the slot. “See you in the morning.”

  As she closed her bedroom door, she almost had herself convinced she was pleased by his impersonal attitude.

  Almost.

  So call her crazy. She wanted to have her cake and to eat it, too. Working so closely with Rick these last few days had twisted her emotions in a knot. His drive and dedication challenged her while his intelligence and dry sense of humor made the long hours speed by.

  Not to mention every little touch tested her ability to remain unaffected, from the accidental brush of skin against skin to the warmth of his breath on her cheek as they bent over the proposed contract.

  All in all, her feelings for him weren’t as easy to ignore as she’d hoped. And the awareness growing between them buzzed like static in the air.

  But if he could pretend indifference to the passionate kiss they’d shared, so could she.

  Right.

  Savannah slept like the dead, waking only when her alarm went off. She showered and dressed in her navy suit with the gold scoop-neck blouse. She wanted to look good and the outfit made her feel confident and professional.

  When she entered the parlor suite connecting her room to Rick’s, she found him already sitting at the dining table reading the paper. He’d ordered coffee along with an array of muffins, yogurt and fruit.

  “Good morning,” he greeted her, his glance up from the paper slightly leery as if he feared what she might say, or perhaps it was that she might start chattering.

  He needn’t worry; she liked to ease her way into the day. After helping herself to coffee and fruit, she took a discarded section of his paper and enjoyed the quiet and the view.

  Having the meeting with Crosse in the hotel was convenient, allowing them to leave their room at ten to ten and simply ride the elevator down. But that was the end of her peaceful morning.

  The meeting was the crash and burn they had narrowly missed the day before, or it would be if Savannah didn’t act fast.

  True to form, Rick masterfully presented the numbers and projections, but his confidence and all-business approach came across as arrogant. Albert Crosse, a fit man in his early sixties, flanked by his two sons, listened but seemed restless. And the more Rick pushed, the further apart the two got.

  She tried to catch Rick’s eye more than once, but he ignored her, so she took matters into her own hands.

  “Mr. Crosse.” She spoke into a tense silence. “I was wondering which property you would suggest for the joint venture?”

  Rick shot her a repressive glance. “Ms. Jones, this isn’t the time—”

  “Please.” Crosse waved Rick off. “I don’t mind, though you must remembe
r to call me Albert.”

  “Of course, Albert.”

  Short and compact, Crosse exuded a charm and charisma that exceeded his stature. His presence demanded attention, and, though his sons were present, it was obvious Crosse ruled.

  He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. “Actually, I believe this property would be spot-on for your purposes. This location runs at seventy-five percent or more capacity for most of the year. We’ve already converted first-level offices into retail space and have leases with a full-service day spa and a coffeehouse. There are two more spaces available.”

  Perfect. This was better than she’d hoped for when she’d taken the discussion off topic. A field trip would change the current dynamic and, she hoped, get the negotiations flowing again.

  “Gracious, right here in the hotel? Can we go see the space? After the long flight yesterday and sitting most of the morning I’m a bit stiff and would welcome a chance to stretch my legs.”

  “Ms. Jones—”

  Savannah turned so only Rick could see her and silently mouthed, “We’re losing him.” Aloud, she said, “I know we have an appointment with the property manager later, but I’m sure Albert will be an excellent guide.”

  “Splendid idea. It would be my pleasure.” Crosse talked right over Rick’s objections. “I’ll have the property manager meet us there. I was scheduled to inspect the conversions today, but agreed to take this meeting instead.”

  “Will we have an opportunity to finish our meeting?” Rick asked as everyone stood.

  “I have some thinking to do tonight,” Crosse advised him stiffly. “I’ll have my assistant call you with a time for tomorrow.”

  When they reached the lobby, Crosse stopped to talk briefly with his sons who were taking this opportunity to break away.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Rick demanded, pulling Savannah aside.

  “We were losing him.” She moved to watch the Crosses so Albert couldn’t walk up on their conversation. “We needed a distraction.”

  “That’s ludicrous.” He dismissed her claim. “This is a solid proposition.”

  “Yes, but he was already sold on the numbers—you sold him on those before. And then you chose to go with someone else. Now he’s wondering what’s to keep you from jumping again if a better deal comes along.”

  “Sullivans’ Jewels has a solid reputation. And we made concessions.”

  “On paper.” How could such a brilliant man be so dense? “You are an exceptional business strategist, but in this instance you need to read the man. It’s a matter of loyalty, of pride. Think how you’d feel if the situation were reversed.”

  He frowned, but she’d caught his attention. Seeing Crosse’s conversation was breaking up, she stepped closer to Rick and lowered her voice. “You said I relate to everyone. Well, trust me on this. Let him know he can trust you.” Hooking her arm through his, she turned him toward Crosse. “And when we tour the space, don’t bring up the deal. Business is fine but stay away from anything personal. Connect with him on another level.”

  She felt him stiffen before pulling away. “I think I know how to conduct myself with a business colleague.”

  “Of course.” She stepped away, feeling awkward. What had she been thinking linking arms with him like that? She was his assistant, not his girlfriend. “Sorry. Go do your magic.”

  Rick hated to admit it, but Savannah was right.

  A good thing for her, because if she’d blown this deal she’d be gone, promise to Gram or no promise.

  He’d known Crosse was antsy. Yet, instead of stopping to think it through and adapt to the situation, he’d let the man’s stoic response cause him to push harder.

  Rick didn’t like being in this position. He was used to being the one making decisions, not the one waiting for the nod.

  But more importantly, Savannah had hit the biggest issue on the mark. If the situation were reversed he’d want more than facts and figures thrown at him. Despite any concessions tossed his way, he’d want to know Sullivans’ Jewels was more than a second choice. After all, they weren’t just talking about the lease of space; they were talking about partnering brands to broaden their demographics.

  The insight made him stop and question himself. Had his goal become more important than the process? Was he rushing his decisions to meet his self-imposed deadline? If that were the case, he needed to stop now and reassess.

  He kept his mind open to the possibilities as they toured the space with Crosse. His first impression was of the size. It was smaller than any of their other stores. But the prime location, right on the lobby, and accessibility to the old vault one story down were strong factors in its favor.

  Because he agreed with the strategy, he heeded Savannah’s advice to avoid talk of the proposal except for renovations and contractors in general because Crosse brought them up. By the time they completed the tour, including visits to the spa and coffee store, he’d made a decision. The process and the goal were both right-on.

  “Albert, thank you for your time.” He shook Crosse’s hand. “They say all things happen for a reason and in this case I need to agree. I originally went with Emerson because I thought their traditional image was a closer match for Sullivans’ Jewels. After staying here and talking with you and your sons, I see I was wrong.

  “We’re both family-owned and family-run companies. And our styles are very similar—‘comfortable chic,’ Savannah called it last night.”

  With nothing to lose, Rick spoke from the heart. “I know you’re hesitant about going forward with the project, but I hope you decide in our favor. The fact is we fit very well indeed. And I’m excited about the prospect of working together. I think I can learn a lot from you.”

  “Hmm.” Albert stood with his arms crossed, nodding. They were totally mixed signals: one said he was closed off, the other that he was listening. He turned to Savannah, who had drifted to the background during the tour. She’d asked a few questions but had mostly followed quietly as the men wandered and talked.

  “Beautiful lady, what am I to make of this bloke? Upstairs he is cold and calculating, so serious with the numbers. But down here he comes alive, and shows passion and heart. Which is the true man?” Albert asked.

  Savannah smiled. “Both, of course. Upstairs he’s looking forward to what could be. He knows his business and the numbers tell of the possibilities. Here—” she spread her arms to indicate the vacant space they’d returned to “—it becomes real. He can see his store, feel it, breathe it. And, yes, he’s serious about his business. He is the heart of Sullivans’ Jewels.”

  Crosse angled his head at Rick. “Beautiful and loyal. You are lucky, Rick, to have someone who believes in you so strongly.”

  “Yes.” Truthfully her response had surprised Rick. He knew he’d been tough on her from the beginning, yet she’d nailed him with that comment. He found it more than a little disconcerting.

  “I have much to think about,” Albert stated. “I’ll have my assistant contact you regarding a time when we can meet tomorrow.”

  “Is it all right if we view the other London properties as time allows?” Rick requested.

  “I see no harm in that,” Crosse agreed.

  Rick inclined his head. “We’ll be waiting for your call.”

  Happy to be out of the snow and cold, Savannah crawled into the back of a taxi, scooting over to allow room for Rick. As she settled into the worn leather seat, her relief at being out of the weather shattered as her hand came to rest against Rick’s muscular thigh on the bench seat.

  Immediately the heat of his body warmed the backs of her icy fingers. For the thousandth time that day she rued forgetting her gloves at home.

  Rick’s head whipped around. It took every ounce of poise she possessed to meet the awareness in his blue gaze with a semblance of calm professionalism.

  Unfair. Unfair. What a cosmic joke if she had to fight him as well as herself to keep their relationship on a business level.r />
  She racked her mind for something to distract his attention from her. A street sign caught her attention. “Buckingham Palace. It must be close, can we drive by?”

  He looked over his shoulder at her with lifted brows, but he leaned forward and spoke to the driver.

  “Thank you.” She’d seen some lovely sights as they made their way through town to the Crosse properties— St. Paul’s Cathedral, the Millennium Bridge. Seen but not experienced.

  “I know we’re here on business, but please tell me we’ll get some free time to actually visit some of these beautiful sights.”

  She saw him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “I suppose you deserve something for your interference today,” Rick conceded. “You were right about Crosse. He needed reassurance. You saw that and quite possibly saved the deal.”

  “I hope so.” She shifted so she faced him. Watched as he lifted a hand to smother a yawn. The muscles in his throat worked and her mouth watered. “I liked Crosse.”

  “He liked you, too.” That was the second time in two days he’d said a man liked her. Knowing she shouldn’t go there, she couldn’t prevent the question from popping out.

  “Do you?” she asked.

  “Yes. I was being honest with him. I really do think I can learn from him.”

  “No,” she corrected, “do you like me?”

  His profile froze before he slowly turned and shot her a harassed glare. “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” What was she thinking asking such a personal question? Other than that somehow his answer mattered a great deal to her.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, genuine puzzlement in his tone. “Everyone likes you.”

  “So you seem to think.” Stop this now, she pleaded with herself. But she didn’t care about everyone; she cared about him. “But what about you? I know you think I talk too much.”

  “You do,” he said with casual ease. “But I’m getting used to it. I even learn things, like ‘comfortable chic.’”

  She grinned. His announcement had both surprised and pleased her. “I noticed how you used that.” And how he’d skipped over her question.