by Joy Avery
Again, Haley Adams barged into his thoughts. For the first time in years, Ashton was open to having a girlfriend, and the only person on his radar was the charity CEO.
Curious how Haley was doing, Ashton retrieved his cell phone from his jacket pocket and called her. On a whim, he’d phoned Haley a couple times from Frankfurt, but every time he called she was unavailable. Today, though, he was determined to finally connect with her.
“Good morning. The Aunt Penny Foundation,” chirped a female voice. “This is Stacy speaking. How may I help you?”
“Hello. Can I please speak to Ms. Haley Adams?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but she’s in a meeting. Would you like to leave a message?”
No, I want you to put her on the phone so I can ask her out! Frustrated, Ashton hung up and chucked his cell on the seat. Damn, why was it so hard to get Haley on the line? She was the CEO of a charity organization, for goodness’ sake, not the leader of the free world!
And he was a Rollins. Why was he sitting there pouting? He sat up, straightening his shoulders. He didn’t wait for things to happen. He made things happen.
Imbued with confidence, a plan taking shape in his mind, he pressed the intercom button.
“Yes, Mr. Rollins?” the driver asked. “How may I be of assistance?”
“Take me to The Aunt Penny Foundation, and step on it. It’s important.”
“Very well, sir. Not a problem. I’ll have you there quick, fast and in a hurry!”
The driver punched the gas, sending the limousine flying down Brickell Avenue.
Pleased, Ashton adjusted his pin-striped tie. This time when he saw Haley, things would be different. The thought—and the images of the curvy, dark-skinned beauty—excited him.
Twenty minutes later, the limousine stopped in front of a brown brick building, and Ashton stepped out. “Thanks. Hang tight. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Modern and clean, the reception area was decorated with children’s artwork, bamboo plants, brown leather furniture and brass lamps. Approaching the front desk, he buttoned his suit jacket and took off his sunglasses.
“Good morning,” greeted the receptionist at the mahogany desk. “Welcome to The Aunt Penny Foundation. How may I help you?”
Licking his lips, Ashton peered down the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. He was a great judge of character, and something told him Haley Adams was special. Someone he could trust. More than just a pretty face and a sexy body. Ashton wanted to know if their connection was real, or a figment of his imagination, and there was only one way to find out. “I’m Ashton Rollins, president of Prescott George, and I’m here to see Ms. Haley Adams.”
Frowning, worry lines wrinkling her brow, she consulted her appointment book. “One moment, please,” she chirped, raising an index finger in the air.
She snatched the phone off the cradle, pressed 0 and spoke in a low, hushed voice to the person on the line. Ashton couldn’t hear what she was saying, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t leaving until he saw Haley.
“Ms. Adams will see you now.” The receptionist sprang to her feet. “Right this way, Mr. Rollins.”
Following her down the corridor, Ashton heard telephones ringing, the distant sound of laughter and the familiar chug of a photocopier. Inspirational quotes were painted on the deep blue walls, words of encouragement and hope, and reading them lifted his spirits. Coming to The Aunt Penny Foundation was a bold move, one Ashton was confident would pay off. The air smelled of peppermint and perfume, a fragrant aroma that made him think of Haley, and he suspected she was nearby.
Stopping at the end of the hallway, the receptionist gestured to the open door to her left.
Nodding his thanks, Ashton entered the bright, sun-drenched office. And there, standing behind the executive desk in a fitted cardigan, white V-neck dress and pearls was Haley Adams. His crush. The object of his affection. The woman who’d starred in his dreams last night—and the night before last. The urge to touch her was overwhelming, but since he was a gentleman and not a sex-crazed teenager, he stayed put and buried his hands inside his pockets.
Staring at her, Ashton admired her creamy skin, slender nose, glossy red lips and high cheekbones. Her stylish auburn bob grazed her shoulders, and the short, thick bangs complemented her oval face, drawing attention to her big brown eyes.
“Welcome to The Aunt Penny Foundation, Mr. Rollins. What can I do for you?”
Ashton choked down a laugh. Her mouth said, “Welcome,” but her cold, rigid stance said, “Get out and don’t come back!” Fidgeting with her fingers, she shifted and shuffled her feet, causing Ashton to remember the last time he’d done The Electric Slide. It was at a friend’s wedding reception months earlier, and when his date—an uptight scientist from Coral Gables—had complained the song was corny, he’d hit the dance floor alone.
“It’s great to see you again, Haley. How is Aunt Penny doing?”
Eyes wide, she stared at him as if he’d just asked for her hand in marriage.
“I hope she’s feeling better,” he added, “and is finally out of the hospital.”
“Yes, she is. Thanks for asking.”
Noting the photographs on the mauve walls—pictures of Haley at a ribbon-cutting ceremony, posing with a group of college graduates, shaking hands with the mayor—Ashton walked further into the small, cramped space. Wholly feminine, it had a hot pink corkboard, vases overflowing with sunflowers, a colorful area rug and glass shelves lined with business management books, postcards and potted candles. “Ms. Wright did an outstanding job with her presentation for Prescott George, but I have some questions about The Aunt Penny Foundation that I’m hoping you can answer.”
“Absolutely,” she said, speaking in a breathless tone. “I’m free now.”
Haley gestured to the armchair in front of her desk, but Ashton didn’t move.
“Sorry, but I can’t stay.” For effect, he glanced at his gold wrist watch and slowly shook his head, as if he was profoundly disappointed. “I’m pressed for time, but perhaps you can come to my Fisher Island estate tonight at six o’clock. We can talk then.”
“Your estate?” Her voice rose an octave. “Tonight?”
“Yes, my estate. Is that a problem?”
Panic flickered across her face, but she fervently shook her head. “No, not at all.”
“Great. I’ll leave my address and cell number with your receptionist on my way out.”
“Thank you, Mr. Rollins. I look forward to seeing you later.”
“Call me Ashton. All of my friends do, and I have a feeling we’ll be buddies in no time.”
Her face lit up. “I’d like that.”
That makes two of us, he thought. Getting to know you better is priority number one.
A raw, primal hunger he’d never experienced surged through his body. Ashton wanted to take Haley in his arms for a kiss, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. Not until he knew more about her. Did she have a boyfriend? Several? Was she attracted to him, too, or was he fooling himself? He hoped it wasn’t the latter.
“Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said, putting on his sunglasses. “Don’t work too hard.”
“Likewise, Mr. President.”
Amused at her joke, Ashton chuckled. “Funny, successful and gorgeous? What a winning combination. You should be my first lady.”
Her laughter tickled his ears, and the jovial expression on her face made him feel proud, as if he’d hit a hole in one on a golf course. They stared at each other, and her gaze was so strong and intense Ashton couldn’t move. Couldn’t catch his breath. He didn’t like losing control and hated feeling weak, powerless. He turned away from her to break the spell.
“I better get back to work, or I’ll never make it out of here on time.” Plopping down on her zebra-print chair, she crossed her l
egs and picked up the pen on her desk calendar. “Thanks for stopping by, Ashton. I’ll see you at six.”
I can’t wait.
He’d done it. Asked out the sexiest, most captivating woman he’d ever met, and Ashton hoped tonight would be the first of many dates. Anxious to return to his estate to begin making preparations for their romantic dinner, he strode out the door with a Cheshire-cat grin, confident it would be a night he’d never forget.
* * *
An hour after leaving The Aunt Penny Foundation, Ashton entered the entryway of his eight-bedroom estate. Dropping his house keys in the porcelain bowl on the marble table, he kicked off his shoes and loosened the knot in his Burberry tie. It was good to be home, he thought, his gaze circling the foyer. He’d lived at the estate for years, but he still loved everything about the mansion—the vaulted ceilings and stone columns, the Mediterranean architecture, the plush furniture and the lush palm trees and foliage visible from every window. His parents lived next door, and although there was a sprawling lawn between the two properties, like it or not, his parents dropped by every day—sometimes twice.
“Where have you been? Your plane landed hours ago.”
Ashton cranked his head to the right, seeing his father standing there in the doorway to the den. “Mi casa es su casa,” he joked, right before he added, “Dad, it’s good to see you.”
“What took you so long to get home?” Alexander inquired. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Thoughts of Haley flooded his mind, and his temperature rose. “I had a stop to make.”
“We need to talk. It’s important.”
“Dad, don’t worry, my trip was fine. I made a lot of valuable business contacts at the Aerospace Expo and I plan to return to Germany later this year for Oktoberfest. Not only is it a great networking opportunity, it’s—”
“That’s not why I’m here. Trouble’s brewing within the Moguls.” Taking a puff of his cigar, his father sat down in a leather armchair. “Joshua DeLong is plotting to unseat you.”
Ashton shrugged. “Big deal. More power to him.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“Dad, I have bigger things to worry about than who’s doing what in Prescott George. I have a company to run, an anniversary party to plan...”
And a woman to seduce, he thought, but didn’t say for fear his dad would blab to his mom. The last thing Ashton wanted was Joan dropping by to grill him about Haley.
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” Alexander said, his eyes narrowed and his tone clipped. “You have to act now, before it’s too late.”
Hearing his cell phone buzz, Alexander checked the screen. A grim expression darkened his face. Surging to his feet, he put his cell to his ear and strode out of the room. As his father brushed past him and marched down the hall, Ashton overheard him say, “What did you find out? Who does DeLong have in his back pocket, and what do we have to do to regain the upper hand?”
Perplexed, Ashton stroked his jaw. Was he missing something? Was there more to the story? He couldn’t understand why his dad was so unnerved by the rumors—and why he’d come over to tell him about it in person. The members of Prescott George would never allow an interloper like Joshua DeLong to take over, and Ashton had better things to do with his time than stress about what the smug corporate raider was up to. Furthermore, Ashton was a strong leader who had the unwavering support of his members, and there was nothing Joshua could do about it.
Clearing his mind of every troubling thought, Ashton strode down the hallway, whistling a tune. After he spoke to his chef and touched base with his assistant, he was going to the barber shop. He had to look his best for Haley. Ashton couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this excited about someone, and sensed it was going to be a night to remember. He only hoped his father didn’t make another unexpected visit and ruin his date.
Copyright © 2017 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN-13: 9781488013768
In the Market for Love
Copyright © 2017 by Joy Avery
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