The Double Deal

by Catherine Mann

  “Winning you back into my bed again once things settle out with your dad,” he said simply, honestly.

  “Winning me into your bed again? Did you really just say that?”

  “I did.” He leveled a stare her way, the spark between them intensifying with each second that passed.

  “Do you really think having an affair is possible? Especially if you’re working for the company?”

  “Fine. Then I won’t consider working for the company.”

  “You’re considering working for the company? When did you...? Um, how did you...?” she stuttered.

  Hell, he hadn’t known he was considering it until the words fell out of his mouth. But admitting that would sound far too illogical. So he settled for, “I’ve been mulling over your offer. I still am.”

  “Care to share more about your...mulling?”

  Sliding an arm around her shoulders, he let his thoughts shuffle and move around like puzzle pieces in search of a possible fit. “Consider this. What does it matter if we’re sleeping together while I’m working with your father’s company? You won’t be my boss. I won’t be yours. There’s nothing you could say to change the results of my work. So, after hours are after hours.”

  “Have you thought about the fact that I’ll be as big as a house in a few months?” She leaned in. “There’s a baby growing in this belly.”

  “So I hear,” he said, doing his best to hide the gut kick of those words.

  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  He weighed his response carefully, because yes—hell, yes—the thought of entangling his life with a baby’s scared him spitless. But he wanted her that much. “I think you and I have talked enough for one night.” He stroked her hair back from her face. “I’m going to leave now. You should get some rest.”

  To make sure she didn’t have enough time to press him further, he leaned in to kiss her, and damn, the feel of her lips, the sweet stroke of her tongue, made him wonder how long he could wait before he had to see her again.

  * * *

  Naomi paced outside her father’s door while the nurse gave him a bath. Exhaustion soaked into her bones, and the fact that she still had the ability to walk without breaking down in tears seemed like a helluva surprise. Sleep hadn’t been possible in her last twenty-four hours, and the pregnancy had drained her additional stores of energy.

  As much as she wanted to be present for every moment of her father’s hospital stay, she knew she needed rest. If not for her sake, then for the sake of her unborn child. Soon, the next family member would come to relieve her and she could get home, crawl into bed and sleep. Hard.

  Her insomnia had more to do with the late night conversation with Royce, along with the foot massage and his kiss, which tempted her to lean on him.

  She heard a commanding, brusque voice echoing down the hall, pulling Naomi away from the fantasy of sleep—and questions about Royce.

  Trystan Mikkelson approached, flanked by Jeannie.

  He gave Naomi a curt nod as he approached. His gaze was intense, brows furrowed, everything about his body signifying distance and the need for space.

  She did her best to smile at him, to feel like they were family.

  The attempt was unsuccessful, judging by the way his focus returned to his mother, away from Naomi and the realities looming behind the door to her father’s room.

  Jeannie, normally so smoothly professional and composed, looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks. She hugged her bulky sweater tighter around herself, a tissue clutched in her fist. “How did he do through the night?”

  “We had a nice chat and then he slept well. His breakfast just arrived.” Naomi’s stomach lurched at the olfactory memory. Just another item of food that made her ill during this pregnancy. The weight of the world slammed into her a little bit more. Focus. She needed to focus. She thrust out her hand to her future stepbrother. “Trystan, hello.”

  Trystan’s rugged exterior showed nothing of his emotional state. Probably why Charles Mikkelson Jr. had become the face of the company since his father had died. Always right there helping his mother.

  Trystan tapped the brim of his Stetson. “Hello, Naomi. No offense, but you look exhausted. Mom and I have this.”

  Naomi had to confess, “I could do with a shower and a nap.”

  Jeannie touched her wrist lightly, a gesture that still came off a bit awkward and uncomfortable, given how long their families had been enemies. “How are you going to get home? You’re so tired it can’t be safe to be behind the wheel.” She turned to her son. “Trystan, you should—”

  Naomi cut her short. “Thank you, but Broderick and Glenna arranged for a driver to be on call at the hospital at all times. The car should already be downstairs waiting for me.”

  Jeannie smiled, looking more than a little weary herself. “Okay, then, sweetie. Take care.”

  Naomi reached in for a hug, half bumping into her future stepmother in the process. Damn. She anxiously awaited the moment when this sort of contact felt natural.

  She waved over her shoulder at Trystan, hurrying to get to the outside of the hospital and to the Suburban Glenna had sent for her.

  As she entered the backseat of the SUV, she counted her blessings for at least finding a decent connection with one Mikkelson.

  The ride to the Steele compound passed in a whir of snow. Naomi practically forgot that a chauffeur was present and driving the car. His deep rasping cough called her attention out from a nebulous nowhere, plopping her down in the present, her eyes roving over her family’s spread.

  As a child, her home had seemed like a castle on the outskirts of Anchorage. The mansion stood on a cliff, overlooking mountains. Tall pine trees formed a protective circle around the building proper, and a slate path led from the main house to the stables. Hours were spent there as a child, among the horses. It was where freedom had first felt possible to Naomi. She and Brea had been so close. Inseparable. Losing that connection had been—still was—devastating.

  She rested her head on the cool glass window, thankful for the marked contrast from the hot nervous sweat on her nape.

  Her eyes fixed on the barn, on their horses—the love of the animals her father had passed on to her and her siblings. A wince of pain shot through her as she thought of his riding accident. Such a fluke as he was so sure-seated in the saddle.

  Tires crunched along the ice and the Suburban slowed to a stop in front of the main doors. She hopped out, barely two steps into the great, gray building before her sister Delaney emerged from the room adjacent to the foyer, her dark hair contrasting with the cream walls where large paintings of Alaskan brush hung.

  Delaney leaned against the glass table on the farthest wall, chewing her lip. “How was Daddy?”

  “Feisty as ever. The doctor’s supposed to come by this afternoon to discuss a possible surgery date. We’ll want to be back there by then.”

  “Yes, of course.” Delaney drew in a shaky breath. “Just so you know what you’re walking into. We have an issue that needs discussing. Just with the family. The Steele family.”

  The prospect of having to perform family duties at this moment seemed damn impossible. “Now? I can barely stand up, much less think.”

  “You have to. We need you. You’re the family lawyer.”

  Naomi waved a hand. Dismissive. Firm. Knowing she needed sleep for the sake of not only her own sanity, but for the baby, as well. “The business has a team of lawyers—”

  “Yes, but you are our lawyer, a Steele. Your opinion carries the most weight.”

  Family first. That old mantra churning something in her.

  “Thank you,” Naomi said, a faint blush dusting the apples of her cheeks.

  “Just stating facts. You’re a damn good attorney.”

  And those lawyer instincts told her that her siblings had sent Delaney wit
h this request because she was the most mild-mannered of the bunch. But she also wasn’t to be underestimated.

  Naomi gestured to a nook in the foyer, the one that seemed unassuming—an oversize windowsill to the uninitiated. But this was the spot where as kids, Naomi, Brea and Delaney had snuck away to talk. It seemed appropriate now. “What is it you feel the family needs to discuss?”

  “We have two issues at hand. First, Dad’s clicking along well mentally now, but if things go south at any point we may need to make medical decisions for him. With all due respect to Jeannie and Dad’s engagement, they’re not married. So, if he’s incapacitated, she has no say. Am I correct?”

  True, but God, her dad would go ballistic if he knew they were having this conversation. Still, they needed to look out for his best interests and they did know him. “Legally, you are right as far as me having the power of attorney. But it will be a delicate balance. When Dad recovers, he’ll raise holy hell if he thinks we shut her out.”

  Although, knowing they’d shut Jeannie out might just force him to recover faster. Not another soul on earth could rival her father’s strong will.

  “True about the power of attorney. But it’s still the day-to-day stuff that worries me. As much as they may have feelings for each other, does she know his medical wishes? Does she know him that well?” Delaney asked tentatively. She’d always been more of a peacemaker, not an easy role in their family of volatile personalities.

  “I have told you the law. We’ll handle the diplomacy if the situation arises.” She prayed it wouldn’t. Shoving the thought away, Naomi found it hard to stay objective. To stay purely in the lawyer mind-set. Too raw. “Let’s take one crisis at a time.”

  “If it needs addressing, that will fall to you.”

  “Why me? Why not Broderick?”

  Delaney blinked at her, drawing her slender legs to her chest, looking much younger, recalling a time before life disrupted their happy family—their peace. “Your legal skills with words. Broderick’s more a bull in a china shop. And in case you haven’t noticed, he’s been off his game from lack of sleep since Fleur’s going through that bout of colic.”

  True. And he had Glenna to share the parenting with. Naomi touched her stomach lightly. How would she manage this on her own? Her plan had seemed so right before everything changed in her family, but now she feared coming up short for her child.

  All of which she would have to worry about later. Right now, she needed to focus on her father.

  “Fine.” Exhausted, terrified for her father, the tight response was all she could manage.

  “Broderick is busy playing host to everyone. Marshall is barking orders. Aiden’s a kid. And me? I’m not pushy enough, but I’m good at patting hands.”

  “Okay, okay, I agreed. You said two issues. What’s the other?” Naomi sighed, steeling herself. Yep. Her siblings had definitely selected subtle, gentle Delaney to win Naomi’s cooperation.

  “If the surgery doesn’t go well and Dad’s incapacitated—or worse—we need to have a plan ready to roll. We can’t afford for the Mikkelsons to step into the power void. Things are all the trickier as Broderick and Glenna have started sharing the CFO responsibilities—and of course he trusts her. God, things are getting muddy. Start thinking. After we finish at the hospital, we’re going to meet tonight after supper while Jeannie’s with Dad and Glenna’s feeding the baby.”

  And just like that, unrest threatened the tentative peace they’d brokered with their longtime rivals.

  Before Naomi could respond, the doorbell rang.

  Saved by the bell, quite literally. She leaped to her feet and peered through one of the windows flanking the door to find...

  Royce.

  He stood outside, snow gathering on his parka, Tessie at his heels.

  Nine

  Royce had intended to go to his place and sleep. Or work. But somehow, he’d ended up here.

  Even though he knew stepping into the Steele lair meant stepping away from his quiet, solitary realm of research and facts, where he worked long enough to keep nightmares about the past from haunting him, he hadn’t been able to stay away. Being here, with this large and looming clan, placed him that much closer to becoming a part of their team. Being a part of other peoples’ lives, people to care about.

  But saying goodbye to Naomi—well—just not an option.

  So here he was. With his dog. Awkward as hell. Social nuances sometimes slipped past him, his head stuck in the scientific world of black-and-white. There were so many people in this rapidly blending family, he was going to need some kind of pneumonic device to remember all their names.

  Naomi bounded up to him, her dark hair swaying as she approached the archway between the hall and the great room. “What are you doing here?”

  Damn, she made jeans and a lamb’s-wool sweater look like runway glam. And her knee-high leather boots sent his pulse jacking upward.

  “I understand you’re looking for a consultant.” Thank God Tessie was on her best behavior, sitting like a princess beside him.

  “Now?” she whispered. “You want to talk about that now?”

  He breathed deeply, taking a moment to stabilize his emotions. Reaffirm that coming here—to this mansion with soaring ceilings that reminded him of grand cathedrals—had not been some terrible miscalculation. In that breath, he surveyed the space, his eye catching on the great room beyond Naomi, the gathering space full of multiple sofas and seating areas large enough for such a massive family.

  A blaze hungrily crackled within the gray slate fireplace. His eyes traced upward to the sprawling moose antlers mounted above.

  Royce noted the way the decor pulled together sophistication with an air of a bygone time in Alaskan history. Rustic, rugged elegance. The nods to the hunt—the deep, rich colors of burgundy and brown—reminded him a bit of Texas, another place of possibilities and open land.

  A blonde woman—Glenna Mikkelson, most likely—rocked a baby in a thickly padded rocking chair. She attentively cooed at the sleeping baby. A Siberian husky puppy lay over her feet, ears and eyes alert to Tessie, but staying blessedly still.

  Beside the blonde, a man sprawled on the wide leather sofa but quickly stood and took hold of the husky pup’s collar. Naomi’s brother, no question. He stared at Royce with ill-concealed interest.

  Royce shifted his focus back to Naomi. “If that’s what your family wants, but that’s not why I’ve come. I realize you’re in the middle of a crisis.” He held up his hand. “I brought pastries. I’m a Southern boy. My mama always said bring food.”

  The blonde woman slid off the rocker, rising to her feet. She carefully adjusted the infant onto her left shoulder, a smile resting easy on her face. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” she said. “This is the apple of Broderick’s eye—our daughter, Fleur.”

  “She’s a heart-tugger,” he said simply, thinking of the child he’d lost...of Naomi’s baby on the way. He’d avoided children for so long and now there was no more hiding.

  Broderick thrust his hand out. “Welcome. Thank you for the pastries. We can never have too much to eat around here, especially with the whole crew in town. We appreciate you stopping by.”

  “No problem,” Royce continued. “I’m sorry to intrude and sorry about having my dog along—”

  Glenna stopped him short. “No need to apologize. I adore my Kota.” She reached down to scratch the Saint Bernard’s ear. “I’m glad you didn’t leave—”

  “Tessie,” he supplied, looking down at his massive pup. The dog seemed to wink at him, a tongue lazily sliding out of her mouth into a light pant. She nuzzled his hand with her great head.

  “Yes, glad you didn’t leave Tessie in the car.” Glenna adjusted the baby on her shoulder, rubbing a soothing hand along her back. “Thank you again for the, uh, pastries.”

  Thin excuse to show up. Busted. “I
also wanted to make sure Naomi arrived home safely from the hospital.” Another lame excuse, he knew. He could have called. For a genius, he was coming up aces in the “too obvious” department.

  Naomi lifted an eyebrow. “Oh really.”

  “Yes, really.”

  A willowy, dark-haired woman stood. “I’m Delaney Steele, by the way.” She raised a hand absently, a softer, quieter version of her sister. “I truly would love to chat with you, but I need to help Trystan and Jeannie.”

  Delaney Steele. The name clicked in his mind. She was a well-known conservationist crusader with a reputation for holding her family’s feet to the fire on safety issues. Someone he could consider an ally if he chose to sign on.

  And yes, he was seriously considering Naomi’s offer, though he couldn’t quite believe it of himself. Maybe Naomi’s words had sunk in, about the cost of waiting too long to implement the schematics he had so far for upgrades.

  “Nice to meet you, Delaney. I’ve read some of your blogs.”

  She flushed and blinked fast. “Thank you, I’m honored.” Her smile faded. “But I do need to get back to my father. I know the hospital must feel overwhelmed by so many of us, but we can’t imagine leaving him alone...or missing the chance to see him if...”

  She swallowed hard.

  Broderick gripped her shoulder and turned her to face him. “He’s going to be fine. We’re all here for support, not on a death watch. We’re all too stubborn to let that happen. Marshall’s flying in now. Uncle Conrad and Aiden have gone to the water to meet the seaplane.” He glanced at Royce. “Marshall and Aiden are our brothers.”

  There were so many people in this family, Royce wondered if they’d ever considered keeping flyers by the door, complete with a family tree as a cheat sheet.

  No sooner had the thought about the large family crossed his mind than the space cleared out with excuses of dog running and baby feeding, leaving him and Tessie alone with Naomi.

  “For a family that wants to win me over as a business partner, they sure did bolt fast.” He leaned in, his voice low.