Ask Anyone

by Sherryl Woods

  After bracing herself for whatever she might have to face, Jenna drove to Baltimore. She deliberately left Darcy behind. Not only did she not want her daughter caught in the cross fire, Jenna needed to have a very firm, practical excuse for going back to Trinity Harbor in case nothing she said to her father worked and he somehow convinced her to give up on pursuing this job on her own. Not that he could. She refused to even consider the possibility that he might win. She just had to stick to her guns through one very difficult hour at most.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she marched through the front door of the suite of offices Pennington and Sons had on the first floor of a restored town house near the harbor. There were window boxes filled with bright pink and purple petunias against the brick facade outside, and soothing colors in the offices, all of it her touches. More than one client had said that the quiet, tasteful surroundings had helped to clinch the deal they’d made with her father or her brothers. Several had asked for her to consult on their own decor, but her father had always been quick to point out that she wasn’t a licensed decorator, though she would be more than happy to find someone suitable for them. It was just more evidence of the way he diminished her accomplishments.

  Since she’d been gone, apparently no one had been hired to fill in at the reception desk she normally occupied. The outer office was completely empty, her desk littered with stacks of correspondence waiting to be opened, answered and filed.

  She ignored the mess and sailed straight into her father’s office, drawing a startled look that for one instant seemed about to turn into a genuine smile of welcome. But before Jenna could blink, it turned into a more familiar disgruntled scowl.

  “Did you finally get some sense in your head and decide to come home?” he asked. “If so, there’s a stack of letters on your desk waiting to be answered.” He turned back to his computer screen, effectively dismissing her as if she’d just arrived an hour late, rather than after weeks of being AWOL.

  “They’ll have to go right on waiting,” she said calmly.

  Her father’s head snapped up at that. “I beg your pardon.”

  “Actually, there are quite a few things for which you should be begging my pardon, but I’ll let that pass for now. We need to talk.” She sat down across from him, caught his gaze and held it, daring him to try to dismiss her again.

  He frowned at her. “Not if you intend to sit there and sass me. I’m still your father.”

  “Oh, believe me, I’m well aware of that. If any other boss had treated me the way you do, I would have quit long ago.”

  Shock registered at her harsh words. “What are you saying?”

  “I think that’s pretty evident. You’re a bright man. Figure it out.”

  He regarded her with evident bewilderment. “Jenna, what has gotten into you? You never used to act like this. What kind of nonsense have you picked up down in Trinity Harbor? Who’s been filling your head with wild ideas this time?”

  “Maybe I’ve finally grown up,” she retorted.

  “If that’s the way you see it, you could use a few hard lessons on maturity and gratitude.”

  “Maybe so,” she agreed with rancor. “Look, I didn’t drive all the way up here to argue with you. I want to talk to you about the Trinity Harbor project.”

  His complexion flushed, her father slammed his fist into his desk. “There is no Trinity Harbor project! How many times do I have to say that? Just because you’ve gotten some crazy notion into your head does not mean that I intend to go along with it.”

  She refused to flinch. She kept her gaze perfectly level with his. “So that’s it? You won’t even hear me out?”

  “Why should I? You went behind my back on this. You took off without a word to anyone. For someone who claims to be trying to earn the respect she deserves, you have a strange way of going about it.”

  “I did what I thought I had to do,” she said flatly. “Would you have given me the chance to work up this proposal on my own?”

  “Of course not!”

  “I rest my case.”

  “Jenna, you’re inexperienced. You’ve gotten yourself into something you know nothing about. Who’s going to have to bail you out?” he said in that barely tolerant tone she’d been hearing all her life.

  “No one,” she said. “It might interest you to know that Bobby Spencer loves the design I came up with.”

  Her father’s mouth dropped open at that. The reaction wasn’t very flattering, but it was darned satisfying to see that she could shock him.

  “You’re kidding,” he said finally.

  “No. I am not kidding.” She tapped the briefcase she’d brought with her. “I have the sketches here, if you’d like to see them.”

  “Does the man realize that you’ve never done anything like this before?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does he really? Or is he flattering you, because he wants something else entirely from you?”

  Jenna shot to her feet. “That was low, even for you,” she said coldly.

  Her father had the grace to flinch. “I’m sorry,” he said with what sounded like genuine contrition. “It’s just that I can’t picture a professional buying into the ideas of an amateur.”

  “Maybe Bobby’s as new at this as I am,” she said. “Maybe that’s why we’re on the same wavelength, because we’re both looking for something fresh that hasn’t been done to death in a hundred other little beach towns up and down the coast.”

  “You’re not giving your brothers and me a lot of credit for being innovative,” he said.

  “This isn’t about you. It’s about me being able to make a real contribution to this company, instead of being window dressing in the front office.” She leveled a look straight into his eyes. “Are you going to review my sketches or not?”

  Tension hung in the air for several minutes as she awaited his decision.

  “No,” he said finally. “I’m sorry, Jenna, but I’m not going to encourage you in this folly. Come home where you belong before you make a fool of yourself and this company. You don’t need to do this. I’ve always kept a roof over your head, haven’t I? Even after you married that ne’er-do-well Nick Kennedy just to defy me, I took you in. Come back, before I regret giving you a second chance.”

  “Thanks all the same for the gracious invitation,” she responded with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “But I’m going back down there this afternoon. I’m staying until I make this deal, and that’s that. It’s up to you whether I do it for this company or for myself.” She stared him down and waited, refusing to blink or to give in.

  “Oh, do what you want, but I’m not paying your expenses,” he grumbled eventually.

  “You would if it were Dennis or Daniel, but fine. That’s what credit cards are for.”

  “Sooner or later, those bills will have to be paid,” he reminded her.

  She smiled loftily. “Which I’m sure you will be happy to do when I bring in this contract for the company.”

  “What if you don’t?”

  “I will,” she told him flatly. Not succeeding was not an option. If she hadn’t believed that before, she did after this conversation.

  Now she just had to convince Bobby Spencer that no one on earth was better qualified to develop his boardwalk.

  Unfortunately, despite her brave words just now, Jenna had almost maxed out her company credit card, which meant time was running out. It was time to take the bull by the horns or, to be more precise, the bull-headed man by the scruff of his neck, and get this show on the road.

  16

  Tonight was the night. Do or die. Win or lose. Go for broke. Jenna ran through a whole list of motivational clichés as she dressed to go to the yacht center for dinner. She’d stopped at the house before leaving Baltimore and chosen a dress that she’d been told in the past could bring grown men to their knees. That was pretty much the effect she was counting on with Bobby.

  Now she stood in front of the mirror on the back of her bedroom door in Trini
ty Harbor and gazed at her reflection in the knock-’em-dead dress. It was a little slip-of-a-nothing dress, just some pale blue silk splashed with exotic flowers that skimmed over curves in a revealing way. It left her shoulders bare and exposed her shapely calves and a good two inches of thigh. Though she wore a strapless bra and bikini panties under it, somehow it managed to look as if she was wearing nothing at all.

  “How do I look?” she asked Darcy, who was sprawled across her bed, book in hand.

  Her daughter, the fashion critic in baggy jeans and a faded T-shirt, glanced up and shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

  Clearly bored, Darcy went back to reading the latest offering from the Clueless series. Was that an omen or what? Jenna wondered. Though she would have walked on hot coals before admitting it to her father, she was playing out of her league. Ignoring the butterflies doing kamikaze nosedives in her stomach, she brushed the silky fabric of her dress smooth, picked up her purse and headed for the door.

  “Darcy, come on.”

  “I want to stay here.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Why not? I’ll be fine. Trinity Harbor is safe. I can call nine-one-one, if anything happens.”

  “You can’t stay here because I’ll be worrying about you the whole time I’m out, and I need to stay focused tonight.”

  Her tense tone apparently caught Darcy’s attention. “How come?” she asked.

  “Because I’m going to convince Bobby to give me this contract before I leave the yacht center tonight.”

  Darcy seemed faintly intrigued by that. “And if he says yes, we get to stay, and I get a dog, right?”

  Jenna would have agreed to getting Darcy her own jet to get her off that bed and out the door. “Yes,” she said tersely.

  “Okay,” her daughter said, though she took her own sweet time about heading for the door.

  By the time Darcy had gathered up enough reading material to get her through the evening, they were already a half hour late for the reservation Jenna had made for dinner. Fortunately, Maggie was working again and had held the table. Her eyes widened when she got a good look at Jenna.

  “Whoa! Where did that come from? It has seduction written all over it,” Maggie pronounced, then winced when she caught a glimpse of Darcy’s startled reaction. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Jenna said. “It’s not what you think. I’m not here to…you know. This is all about getting that contract.”

  “If you say so,” Maggie said doubtfully. “I’m not sure Bobby’s going to get the distinction, though. I’m pretty certain his mind and his testosterone are going to shoot down the same path mine did.”

  If that kept him off-kilter, then Jenna would take it. She wanted him agreeable, after all. And men were never more agreeable than when they thought sex might be the payoff.

  Because her knees were all but knocking together, though, she wanted to get this over with.

  “Is he in the kitchen?” she asked Maggie.

  “Yep, but couldn’t you wait here and let me get him? I want to see his face when he catches his first glimpse of you.”

  “I think maybe you’d better stay out here with Darcy,” Jenna said. “I don’t want witnesses if he laughs me out of the kitchen.”

  “Trust me, I don’t think there’s any chance of that,” Maggie told her solemnly.

  Jenna clung to that thought as she headed for the kitchen—Bobby’s turf.

  Inside, she plastered a smile on her face and ignored the stunned expression on his. Maggie had pegged his reaction exactly right.

  “We need to talk,” she announced, marching straight up to him and getting in his face.

  His eyes went dark. For a minute she thought it was anger, but then she spotted the flash of heat as his gaze took a leisurely survey from her shoulders to her ankles, then came back to land on her mouth.

  Anticipation shot straight through her. Denials aside, that look was exactly what she’d been going for. She could pretend otherwise from now till doomsday, but this outfit wasn’t all about the deal. It was about seeing that look of purely male appreciation in this man’s eyes. She wasn’t sure when that had become an issue and she knew it wasn’t wise, but there it was. Sometimes the truth had bad timing written all over it.

  Jenna was about to continue with her planned recitation on the need to get going with this boardwalk project, when she realized that Bobby was moving closer. His gaze locked with hers, and before she could say anything at all, even yes, his lips covered hers and the whole world went spinning.

  Apparently Maggie had been right about everything. Bobby’s mind definitely was not on business.

  And for the moment, with her pulse scrambling, neither was Jenna’s.

  Evidently he was a whole lot less immune to Jenna than he’d been telling himself, Bobby thought with a sigh as his heartbeat finally began to settle back into a normal rhythm. The woman’s mouth ought to be classified as a lethal weapon.

  She looked almost as dazed as he felt. Clearly that kiss had taken both of them by surprise. He felt as if he’d been touched by a live wire. He was pretty sure he’d never experienced anything like it before. It had been a fantasy kiss, slow and deep and needy. Just like the other kiss they’d shared, except this time she’d been molded against him, every curve cradled against the heat of his body. Face it, he told himself, he was becoming addicted.

  When she’d sashayed into his kitchen in a dress that barely qualified as decent attire, every single rational thought in his head had fled. Lust, never far away these days, had slammed through him with a ferocity that rocked him. If he hadn’t kissed her—right then and there—he was pretty sure he would have self-destructed from all the heat.

  At least now the temperature was back to an acceptable simmer, though he had a hunch that that wouldn’t last long, not unless she covered herself with a blanket. He gulped in some air and tried to act as if kissing a woman senseless during dinner preparations in his restaurant were an everyday occurrence. Never mind the stares they’d drawn from his stunned-into-silence staff.

  If he had half a grain of sense in his head, he wouldn’t risk a repeat performance, at least not until the matter of the boardwalk contract had been decided once and for all. For both their sakes, he couldn’t let the two issues—that deal and his growing feelings for Jenna—become intertwined.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, backing away and turning his attention to a tray of sour orange tarts he’d made for tonight’s dessert special. One quick scowl around the room had the noise level in the kitchen climbing and pots and pans banging once more.

  Jenna’s voluptuous little body insinuated itself between him and the counter, and she was smack in his face again, all heat and sweet temptation.

  “Oh, no, you don’t, buster,” she declared, eyes blazing. “You don’t get to do something like that and then walk away.”

  “I have work to do,” he said stiffly.

  “Don’t we all,” she retorted. “So, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you go back to yours right now, if you agree to see me as soon as the crowd thins out.”

  “Tonight?” He sounded a little frantic, even to his own ears.

  “Yes, tonight.”

  He shook his head. “Not possible.”

  “Why not?”

  Because he could not spend five minutes alone with her as long as she was wearing that ridiculously skimpy dress without wanting to tear it off and see the body barely concealed underneath. Because he was terrified of the feelings she stirred in him. Just because… Logical reasons weren’t coming to him. In fact, his brain seemed to be in a complete fog.

  “Because I’m busy tonight,” he said finally.

  Her expression faltered at his response. “You have a date?”

  “No,” he said at once, refusing to seize on an even worse lie, no matter how convenient it might be. “Nothing like that.”

  “Then what?”

  “Jenna, I cannot see you tonight. Period.”

  She studi
ed him intently. “It’s the dress, isn’t it?” she said, a sense of wonder in her voice. “You’re scared of this dress.”

  “Not the dress, dammit. You in that dress. Or out of it.” He threw up his hands. “I just know that being alone with you is not a good idea.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll go home and change. How about jeans and a baggy T-shirt?”

  Bobby considered the offer, then dismissed it. She could wear a feedsack, and all he’d see tonight would be the image of her in that barely-there dress. It was too dangerous.

  “I don’t think so. Tomorrow. In my office. With witnesses. Assuming, of course, that this meeting you want is business-related. It is, isn’t it? You didn’t come here tonight just to drive me crazy, did you?”

  She regarded him with evident exasperation. “Yes, it’s a business meeting. And we can do it in your office with witnesses, if you’re afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself. I’m sure Maggie would be delighted to sit in on our conversation. She was certainly eager enough to be in here when you caught your first glimpse of me in this dress.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” Thank heaven for small favors, Bobby thought. Otherwise he’d have been hearing about that kiss for months to come. He still might, if anybody on the kitchen staff blabbed to his secretary. He wondered if generous bonuses or threats would work best in buying their silence.

  “So, what’s it going to be?” Jenna asked, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “Tonight, right here, or your office, me and Maggie in the morning so you’ll be safe?”

  “Trust me, I won’t touch you again,” he said fervently. “Not here. Not there.” Once had been too damned disconcerting. More would be taking his life in his hands. He had enough willpower and resolve to stick with that. He didn’t need Maggie watching over them and gloating.

  “Whatever,” Jenna said, studying him intently. “You’re going to take the safe route, aren’t you? The office? What time should I be there?” She gave him a mocking look. “Ten on the dot?”