by Day Leclaire
“What do you plan to do?” she whispered.
“I told you. I plan to address your board.”
“About what?” She searched his face apprehensively. “My marriage to Leonard? Our affair?”
He smiled without humor. “That, sweet Sable, you’ll find out along with the other board members.”
“Do you really think they’ll care about our past relationship?” she questioned in disbelief.
He shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
“What if I refuse your request?” she dared to threaten. “If I don’t permit you to address the board, what then?”
His expression became positively arctic. “I wouldn’t recommend it. It will only make your situation worse.”
Dread filled her. Worse than what? She bit down on her lip. If only she had a few minutes alone to think, to figure out what he might be after. “I need more time.”
“You’re out of time. What’s your decision?”
She had no choice and they both knew it. She inclined her head. “Address the board, if you must. But we’ll have to wait for Patricia. She seems to be running late today.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“But—”
“Do it, Sable. We don’t have time to discuss this further. Cornelius is coming over with our coffee. Now call the meeting to order and introduce me.”
“Don’t give me orders. You’re not running the show, Damien,” she retorted sharply. “I am.”
“You are for the time being. That could change, so don’t press your luck.”
She caught her breath and stepped back, something in his expression warning not to push him any further. “Gentlemen,” she announced in a carrying voice, “if you’ll take your seats, Mr. Hawke would like to address the board before we begin.”
She took the coffee from Cornelius with a grateful smile and crossed to the head of the conference table. She waited for everyone to be seated, her gaze settling on a portrait of her late husband. He gazed down at her from the far wall, his smile every bit as kind and gentle as the man had been. She struggled to draw strength from his memory. But it was a futile act.
Leonard had always been the one in need of strength, and she’d always been there to provide it. When he’d fallen ill, she’d assumed more and more of his responsibilities. Just before the end, he’d made his final request—that she protect Caldwell’s from the vultures that would try and steal it after his death, protect his business from corporate raiders like Damien Hawke.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the six board members. “I’ve had a rather unusual request. One of our shareholders, Damien Hawke, has asked to address the board before we begin our meeting. I’ve agreed to his request.” She glanced at him as she assumed her seat. “Damien?”
“Excuse the interruption, but what about Patricia?” Cornelius protested. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to begin without her.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Damien replied. He stood at the end of the rectangular conference table opposite Sable, one hand thrust in his trouser pocket. She remembered the stance well. It signaled confidence and a man in absolute control. “Effective today, Patricia Caldwell is off the board. I’ve arranged for copies of her letter of resignation to be delivered to each of you.”
No one said a word, identical expressions of shock on every face. “Resigned?” gasped one member. “But how? Why?” His questions broke the silence. Others raised their voices in concern, decorum vanishing beneath sudden, noisy confusion.
“Please.” Sable cut through the babble. “I believe that’s what Mr. Hawke intends to explain.”
“Quite right.” His smile of satisfaction said it all, clearly stating that her troubles had only just begun. “Last week Patricia sold me her shares of Caldwell stock. With the public stock I’ve acquired these past five years, I now control forty-three percent—”
“Forty-three! That’s more than—”
All eyes turned in Sable’s direction. Throughout Damien’s remarks, she’d kept carefully quiet, her hands clenched in her lap, struggling to keep from revealing any thought or emotion. Now she stared at Damien across the length of the table. “What do you want?” she asked one final time. But the question was pointless. She’d finally figured out his intentions. Too bad it was far too late.
“What do I want? Why, I want to replace Patricia on the board, of course.” A slow smile crept across his mouth and his eyes bored into hers. “And I want to replace you as chairman.”
Chapter 2
Sable thrust back her chair and stood. “You can’t be serious!”
“I’m dead serious,” came Damien’s instant reply.
The others in the room might not have existed. Only the two of them were present, faced off across the room, locked in a not-so private battle of wills. Their eyes met, his gaze harsh and relentless, and she knew without question he wouldn’t shift from his stance. He planned to take her down. His rigid posture, squared jaw, and the brilliant light of combat sparking in his burning green eyes all told her as much. No one could oppose Damien when he was in this mood and win. It wasn’t possible. Never had she felt so vulnerable, so threatened.
He’d arranged all the moves beforehand. She’d lost the battle before it had ever begun, before she’d even realized they were at war. And though she’d never known Damien to allow his emotions to affect business decisions, she didn’t doubt for a minute this had become the exception to the rule. This wasn’t just business.
It was personal.
“You can’t just waltz in here and take over the board,” she informed him coldly.
“Can’t I?” He looked at each board member in turn. “The general voting public owns seventeen percent of this company. Sable and I, between us, own the rest. I only need eight percent of the outside shareholders voting with me to take over, whereas Sable needs eleven to retain Control. If it came to a proxy fight, my name alone would generate the eight percent I require to take over Caldwell’s.”
“He’s right, Sable,” Cornelius murmured in dismay. “He won’t be able to remove us from the board until the next election, but—”
“But I’ll put that six-month wait to good use, soliciting the votes I need,” Damien interrupted. “By the time the next election comes around I’ll have a whole new slate of board members ready and eager to run against you. And we’ll win.”
“Our shareholders would never go along with that!” sputtered one of the more junior members.
Damien didn’t bother to conceal his contempt. “Won’t they? After the profit statements you’ve posted for the past two quarters, I’m surprised they haven’t already lynched the lot of you.”
“It was Patricia,” Cornelius spoke up. “She—”
Damien cut him off. “It doesn’t matter who’s at fault. The shareholders will blame you. If you fight me, you have my word, by the next election every last one of you will be gone.” He paused, giving them all time to digest his words. “You’ll be gone, unless . . .”
Sable sank into her chair, knowing by doing so she’d tacitly relinquished the floor to him. Knowing, too, her actions would speak far louder than any words. All through his comments she’d listened, trying to decide if there were other options available to them. So far, she couldn’t see any. Damien had them precisely where he wanted them, and every person in the room had better realize it. Fast.
“Name your terms, Damien,” she said quietly.
“I want to be voted on to the board, effective immediately.”
Her hands clenched in her lap. “And then?”
“I want the chairmanship.”
Everyone’s attention shifted to focus on her reaction, the board members waiting with bated breath, for her response. She forced herself to relax against the upholstered back of her chair, crossing one leg over the other. She didn’t dare allow them to see how badly Damien had shaken her. “I’m out and you’re in?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow in amused disbelief. “Just
like that? You know nothing about Caldwell’s, nothing about the way it’s run, the people who work here. And yet you want to head the company?”
He planted his hands on the table and leaned toward her. “Are you questioning my abilities? You, of all people?”
Sable shook her head. “I question neither your experience, nor your abilities.” She spoke crisply, assuming her most businesslike demeanor. “I do question your current knowledge of Caldwell’s situation. And I question your ability to make appropriate decisions without the least familiarity with our employees or clients to back them up.”
“I know this business inside and out.” He dismissed her concerns with an arrogant shrug.
She inclined her head. “I’m aware of that. As our chief competitor you would. But you don’t know Caldwell’s inside and out.” She fixed her dark eyes on him, meeting his fierce green gaze without flinching. “I do.”
“You know my terms, Sable. Step down,” he growled.
She straightened. “Hear me out first!”
For one frightening moment, she didn’t think he would. She thought he’d just walk away and make good on his threat. Then he nodded in agreement. He continued to stand at the far end of the conference desk like some warrior of old, his arms folded across his chest, his legs slightly spread and feet planted as though for action. She searched his closed expression for some sign of vulnerability, anxiously hoping to discover some betraying chink in his armor that she could use to her advantage.
She saw nothing.
“You have one minute,” he said. “Convince me.”
“Very well.” She took a deep breath, marshaling her arguments with as much speed and logic as possible. “I have no desire to get into a proxy fight with you, nor do I think it will benefit Caldwell’s to have a new board, to lose the experience these gentlemen bring to their positions. I suggest a compromise.”
She almost choked offering even that much. But she didn’t have any other option. Right now she had to find a way to salvage what she could from this disaster. She had to gain enough time to find a way to fight him. And win. Damn Patricia for creating this mess! She must be laughing her head off, hoping her actions would destroy Sable, perhaps even destroy Caldwell’s. Leonard’s sister had wanted revenge for having been forced to give up the chairmanship, and she’d taken it. Dear Lord, how she’d taken it.
“What’s your compromise?” Damien demanded.
“We’ll agree to vote you onto the board.”
His mouth curled to one side. “How kind of you.”
She gritted her teeth. More than anything she wanted to cut loose, to tell him what she really thought and felt. But she didn’t dare. Not when he held all the winning cards. “You own forty-three percent of the stock. It only makes sense that you should have a say in how the company is run,” she conceded.
“And the chairmanship?” The overhead lights picked out the streaks of gold gleaming in his thick tawny hair. He reminded her more than ever of a rogue lion. A rogue lion ready and able to take over her turf, and force his domination.
She took a deep breath. “Leave the chairmanship in my hands for three months. That will give you time to familiarize yourself with Caldwell’s and—”
“One month.”
“But—”
He shook his head, a quiet laugh rumbling deep in his chest. “Do you think I’ve grown soft in the past five years? That I’d stand back and allow you to call the shots? You should know me better than that.”
“I know you, Damien.” The words burst out before she could stop them. “I certainly know better than to ever call you soft or to think you’d allow anyone to have authority over you. You lead the pack or no one does. Isn’t that right?”
A smile touched his mouth and she suspected he found her loss of control humorous. She struggled to overcome her despair. When would she ever learn? She had to stand firm and battle for every possible inch of ground. She couldn’t afford to make a single mistake with him. Not now. Not ever.
“That’s right. I lead and you follow.” His smile died, his words hard and brutal. “You’re a fool, Sable, if you believe I’d give you three months to scramble for votes or to improve your performance record. If you don’t step down at the next board meeting, everyone seated at this table will be gone as of the next election. You have my personal guarantee.”
“I could fight you,” she dared to threaten.
“And you’d lose.”
He was right and they both knew it. Slowly she nodded. Giving in to him had to be one of the most difficult tasks she’d ever undertaken. But she had to be sensible. She had to consider the best options for the board, her employees, and the business. She couldn’t just give up and walk away, allowing him to take it all. She needed to buy some time.
Her hands tightened into fists and she forced the words past her lips. “You’ll have my decision about the chairmanship at the next meeting.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s not an answer.”
She lifted her chin. “It’s all the answer you’re going to get,” she bluffed, well aware that if he pressed for further concessions she’d be forced to give them to him.
“Hoping to find a loophole, Sable?” he mocked.
“Just covering all the possibilities,” she retorted. “Wouldn’t you, in my position?”
“Without question.” His voice dropped, the sound dark and intimate. “But just so you know, I haven’t left any loopholes. I never do. Whether you realize it yet or not, you’re trapped with nowhere to escape. I have you, Sable.”
She couldn’t mistake the threat or the intense animosity. It poured off him in waves. She stared in shock, fear creeping along her spine like icy fingers. He wasn’t just talking about Caldwell’s any more. Whether the others seated at the table were aware of it or not, Damien’s remarks had turned personal again.
She bit down on her lip. Why was he still so furious, so hostile? Five years should have cooled the fire of his anger somewhat. Or had time merely banked the embers, allowing them to smolder until the perfect opportunity occurred to fan the flames? She didn’t understand all this passion over losing those accounts to Caldwell’s. It seemed unreasonable. Her eyes widened as a sudden thought occurred to her. Or could it be more than that? Could it be Kyle? Did he know about their son, after all?
She didn’t have the time or energy to consider that possibility. Not now. Not when the entire board was waiting to see what she’d do next. She fought for strength, focusing her attention on the board meeting and on the unpleasant, though necessary, task ahead.
“Gentlemen,” she announced in a brisk voice, flipping open the file in front of her. “Let’s cut through all the rhetoric and get down to business. I hereby call the board of directors for Caldwell’s to order. According to our bylaws we need an immediate replacement for any board vacancies. We currently have such a vacancy. All in favor of Damien Hawke filling that seat, say aye.”
Not a single board member looked at her as they murmured their assent.
“Any nays?” she questioned drily.
No one spoke.
“The motion carries. Mr. Hawke, welcome to the board. Please take a seat.” She didn’t give anyone time to speak, but continued determinedly onward. “If everyone will refer to their notes, we’ll begin. Damien, feel free to use Patricia’s copy. I’ll have another set run off for you, if you wish. Cornelius, have we any old business to discuss?”
To her profound relief, he took over from there, leading the conversation and giving her time to recover. Through sheer force of will she kept an interested expression on her face, but the exact details of the ensuing exchange escaped her. All her attention remained fixed on Damien—on the angled sweep of his cheekbones, on the strength of his hands as he gestured, on the distinctive timbre of his voice.
It had been so long, so very long, since they’d parted. So long since she’d been this close to him. Until this morning, the last time she’d seen him he’d held her naked in his a
rms and kissed her with a depth and passion unmatched by anything she’d experienced before or since.
The memory alone left her shaken, had the power to make her tremble with a soul-crippling need.
She lowered her eyes in dismay. She should be paying attention to the board meeting, not fantasizing about Damien. But she couldn’t concentrate, especially not when she realized he watched her as intently as she watched him. He seemed to be biding his time, waiting for . . . What? Or was he simply lost in memories, too? Were images of them as they’d once been flashing through his mind? Did he remember as clearly as she their first kiss, the first time they’d made love, that final, wrenching parting?
It wasn’t until Cornelius reported on the status of their latest contracts that she awoke to the conversation, the abrupt transition between dreams and reality a brutal intrusion.
“Say that again,” she demanded, more sharply than she’d intended.
“We’ve lost another project, Sable,” Cornelius explained reluctantly. “Luther has bailed on us.”
“Luther! But he’s been with us from the start. We built the first three phases of his Walnut Creek development. Why in the world would he walk?”
“We’re looking into it, but Matheson is bewildered. They’ve gone with AJ Construction and we haven’t been able to find out why. At least, not yet.”
“Who is this Matheson?” Damien interrupted.
“He’s our project director,” Sable explained tersely.
Damien’s frown turned black. “It must be something critical if Luther’s gone over to the competition at the end of such a large development. And your project director has no explanation? None at all?” He spoke with quiet emphasis but from the way the board cringed he might as well have roared the question.
Actually, this wasn’t the first client they’d lost, though Sable didn’t dare admit as much. The gradual slump in business had begun during Patricia’s tenure as chairwoman, a position she’d assumed a year ago, right after Leonard’s death. She’d dismissed their concern, saying it was undoubtedly a temporary condition, one that would correct itself given time. Clearly, she was wrong.
