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From the desk of Emerald Larson, owner and CEO of Emerald, Inc.
To: My personal assistant, Luther Freemont
Re: My newly discovered grandsons, Caleb Walker, Nick Daniels and Hunter O’Banyon
The time has come to implement the plans I have for my grandsons. You are to take the corporate jet to collect them for a meeting here in Wichita a week from today. Needless to say, I will not tolerate refusals or excuses of any kind. Once I tell my grandsons who they are and what I expect of them, Caleb will be the first to receive his assignment. I already have a man in place at the financial consulting firm to report back to me on his progress. If Caleb is as intelligent and resourceful as I suspect, he should have no trouble taking over the reins of Skerritt and Crowe and turning it into a profitable venture.
As always, I am relying on your complete discretion in this matter.
Emerald Larson
www.millsandboon.co.uk
KATHIE DENOSKY
lives in her native southern Illinois with her husband and one very spoiled Jack Russell terrier. She writes highly sensual stories with a generous amount of humor. Kathie’s books have appeared on the Waldenbooks bestseller list and received the Write Touch Readers’ Award from WisRWA and the National Readers’ Choice Award. She enjoys going to rodeos, traveling to research settings for her books and listening to country music. Readers may contact Kathie at: P.O. Box 2064, Herrin, Illinois 62948-5264 or e-mail her at kathie@kathiedenosky.com.
This book is dedicated with deepest appreciation to Kristi Gold, Roxann Delaney, Mary Gardner and my editor, Tina Colombo. Without their encouragement and unwavering support, this book would not have been possible.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Prologue
Caleb Walker sat at the small round table in the corner of a downtown Wichita, Kansas, hotel bar, staring at the two men seated across from him. Not even the blond waitress giving him an interested smile and the fact that he hadn’t had sex in a month of Sundays diverted his attention from the matter at hand.
All of his life, he’d been a man without siblings and with no idea who his father was. But not more than an hour ago, in a plush executive office at the corporate headquarters of Emerald, Inc., all that had changed. Caleb had learned that his father was none other than globe-trotting playboy and heir apparent to the Emerald, Inc. empire, Owen Larson. The late Owen Larson. Now Caleb was having to come to terms with the fact not only that he knew who his father was, but that the man had gone and gotten himself killed in a boating accident off the coast of France before Caleb had had the chance to confront him for making Caleb’s mother pregnant and leaving her without so much as a by-your-leave. He’d also learned that his grandmother was the indomitable Emerald Larson and that the two men sitting across from him were his half brothers.
“I can’t believe we’ve been under that old bat’s surveillance all of our lives.” A muscle jerked along Hunter O’Banyon’s tanned jaw. “She knew everything there was to know about us and didn’t do a damned thing to fill us in on the big mystery until now.”
“That ‘old bat’ is our grandmother. And I’d say she’s done plenty.” Nick Daniels took a swig from the long-necked bottle in his hand, then set it on the table with a thump. “Hiring P.I.s to report our every move from the time we were out of diapers while keeping us in the dark about it takes balls.”
“The size of watermelons,” Caleb added. His gut still churned with anger that Emerald Larson, founder and CEO of one of the nation’s most successful female-owned and operated conglomerates, had denied them all the right to know who they were for so long. “I’m having a problem with her blackmailing our mothers with the threat of cutting us out of inheriting any part of Emerald, Inc. just to keep them silent about her worthless son being the jerk who got them pregnant.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’ll give her this much, the old gal’s a master at manipulation.”
Nick nodded. “I can understand why our moms went along with her. They were hoping to ensure a better life for us. But they paid a hell of a price for it.”
“I don’t give a damn about inheriting any part of Emerald Larson’s little self-made empire.” Hunter shook his head. “Hell will freeze over before I dance to her tune.”
“So you’re going to turn down her offer?” Caleb asked.
If they accepted Emerald’s conditions, they’d each be given one of her companies. She’d assured them there were no strings attached and she wouldn’t interfere with the way they ran the businesses. But Caleb wasn’t fool enough to believe it. It looked like his brothers weren’t either.
“I haven’t flown a chopper in the past five years.” Hunter’s mouth thinned to a menacing line. “What business would I have trying to run an air medevac service?”
“Well, it makes more sense than sending a desk jockey to run a cattle ranch in Wyoming.” Nick’s scowl deepened. “I’ve lived in a condo in St. Louis for the past twelve years. The closest I get to any kind of livestock these days is the Clydesdales when they pull a beer wagon down Market Street during a parade.”
Caleb had to agree that what Emerald Larson was asking them to do was ludicrous. He’d excelled in the business courses he’d taken in high school, but that had been a good number of years ago. He didn’t particularly like the idea of making a fool of himself when it became apparent he was in way over his head.
“Well, how do you think I feel?” He shook his head at the thought of what the old gal had in mind for him. “I’m a Tennessee farmer with nothing more than a high-school education. Emerald couldn’t have come up with anything more ridiculous than me taking over a financial consulting firm.”
Hunter reached for a pretzel from the bowl in the middle of the table. “You can bet that old girl has more up her sleeve than giving us part of Emerald, Inc. out of the goodness of her heart.”
“No doubt about it,” Nick said, nodding.
Caleb wasn’t sure exactly what Emerald Larson had in mind, but he knew just as surely as the sun rose in the east each morning that whatever it was, she’d purposely chosen the business she wanted each of them to run. “It’s my guess she wants us to prove something.”
Nick looked surprised. “Like what? That we don’t know what we’re doing?”
“Beats me. But you can bet Emerald Larson has a reason for everything she does.” Caleb shrugged as he swallowed the last of his beer. “The way I see it, we have two options. We can either turn the old gal down and walk away, making the sacrifices our mothers made to ensure our futures a total waste of time. Or, we can accept Emerald’s offer and show her that she doesn’t know beans from buckshot about who we are and where our talents lie.”
Hunter looked thoughtful. “I kind of like the idea of showing up the high-and-mighty Mrs. Larson.”
“It would serve her right when we all fall on our faces,” Nick said, still looking reluctant.
“But if we’re going to do this, we at least have to give it our best shot.” Caleb stood up and tossed a couple of dollar bills on the table. “It’s not in me to do anything half-assed.”
“Me neither,” the other two said in unison as they rose to their feet and added money to pay for their drinks.
“Then I guess all we have left to do is give Emerald our answer.” Caleb suddenly felt as if he was about to step out onto a tightrope without a safety net.
But as he led the way out of the bar and down the street toward the corporate offices of Emerald, Inc., he couldn’t help but feel a bit of nervous anticipation begin to build. He’d always enjoyed a challenge. And as unbelievable as it was, he was actually looking forward to taking over Skerritt and Crowe Financial Consultants. His only regret was that he didn’t have the education or the slightest idea of how to go about doing the job right.
One
Approaching the reception desk outside the executive offices of Skerritt and Crowe Financial Consultants, Caleb plastered on the professional smile he’d been practicing for the past week. “I’m here to see A. J. Merrick.”
“Do you have an appointment, sir?” the older, gray-haired receptionist asked as he started toward the doors behind her desk.
“I’m Caleb Walker.” He gave her a conspiratorial wink. “I believe Merrick is expecting me.”
“Hold it right there, Mr. Walton,” she said, rising to block his way.
“Walker.” He frowned. Hadn’t Merrick let the other employees know about his taking over as president of the firm?
The woman shrugged. “Walker, Walton, it doesn’t matter what your name is. You’re not going in there without an appointment.”
Apparently, no one had bothered to inform this woman. “Tell you what—” he glanced at the nameplate on her desk “—Geneva. After I talk with your boss, I promise I’ll come back and introduce myself.”
“My boss is busy and doesn’t want to be disturbed.” Geneva pointed to a row of chairs lining the wall across the room. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll see if I can work you in.”
At six feet four inches tall, he towered over the woman by at least a foot, but she wasn’t acting the least bit intimidated by it. From the look on her face, she was just as determined to keep him out of the office as he was determined he was going inside.
It was all he could do to keep a straight face. Geneva reminded him of a little banty hen his grandpa used to own—all bluff and ruffled feathers. And if her defiant expression was any indication, he had no doubt that he’d be sitting in the reception area until hell froze over before she picked up the phone and announced his arrival.
“There’s no need to go to all that trouble, Geneva.” Chuckling, he sidestepped the woman as he reached for the polished knob on the mahogany door with A. J. Merrick engraved on a brass plaque. “Take my word for it, Merrick is going to want to meet with me right away.”
“I’ll call security,” Geneva threatened, rushing over to the phone.
“You do that,” Caleb said, nodding. “I’d like to meet with them, too.”
“Oh, you will, buster,” she promised, stabbing her finger at the phone’s keypad.
Without waiting to see if Geneva reached the security desk, Caleb opened the door and stepped into the spacious office. His gaze immediately zeroed in on the young woman seated behind a huge walnut desk in front of a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.
With her dark auburn hair pulled back in a bun tight enough to make his grandma Walker proud and a pair of oversize black plastic-framed glasses, she looked more like a headmistress at one of those hoity-toity private all-girl schools in Nashville than a modern corporate secretary. And if her disapproving expression was any indication, she was just as unyielding and strict about rules and protocol as one of those overly uptight teachers, too.
But as he sauntered over to stand in front of the desk, he thought he saw a hint of uncertainty about her—a vulnerability that, considering the image she was obviously trying to project, he hadn’t expected. “Excuse me. I’m looking for A. J. Merrick.”
“Do you have business here?” she asked, her voice cool enough to freeze ice.
Rising to her feet, she pushed her glasses up her pert little nose with a delicate hand, inadvertently drawing attention to her brilliant blue eyes—eyes that sent him a look that would have probably stopped a lesser man dead in his tracks. It didn’t faze Caleb one damned bit. On the contrary. He wasn’t sure why, but for some reason he found something quite intriguing about her intense blue gaze.
“I’m—”
“If you’re looking for personnel, it’s down the hall,” she said, cutting him off before he had a chance to introduce himself. Pausing, she arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Was Mrs. Wallace at her desk?”
The woman’s no-nonsense tone couldn’t quite mask the soft, melodic quality of her voice and had Caleb wondering why the sound seemed to bring every one of his male hormones to full alert. Wondering what the hell had gotten into him, he decided it had to be the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman in the better part of a year. That alone was enough to make any normal, healthy adult male feel as though he was about to jump out of his own skin. It also made him overly conscious of every move a woman—any woman—made.
Satisfied that he’d come up with an explanation for his interest in the less-than-friendly secretary, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “As far as I know, Geneva’s still out there.” He chuckled. “Although I’m not real sure she didn’t break one of her fingers punching in the number for security.”
“Good.”
“Good that she might have broken a finger? Or good that she was calling security?” he asked, grinning.
“I didn’t mean—” Frowning, she stopped short and it was clear that for a split second, he’d thrown her off guard. “Good that she’s summoning security, of course.”
“Hey, lighten up. Life is too short to be so uptight.”
The woman rounded the end of the desk, her expression anything but welcoming. “I don’t know who you think you are or why you’re here, but you can’t just walk in and—”
The sound of the door crashing against the wall stopped the young woman in midsentence.
“That’s him.”
Caleb glanced over his shoulder to see the receptionist charge into the office with a defiant glare. Two middle-aged, potbellied uniformed men followed close behind.
“I see you got hold of the security guards, Geneva.” He glanced at his watch, then nodded his approval. “Their response time wasn’t bad, but I think we could work on improving it, don’t you?”
Geneva managed to look down her nose at him despite the difference in their heights, then turned her attention to the woman with the remarkable baby blues. “I’m sorry, Ms. Merrick.” She eyed Caleb like she didn’t think his elevator went all the way to the top floor. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Caleb raised an eyebrow. This was A. J. Merrick?
Interesting. She definitely wasn’t what he’d expected. Emerald had led him to believe that Merrick was a stodgy old gent, not a twentysomething woman with incredible blue eyes.
As they stared at each other like opponents in a boxing ring, his neglected libido noticed that A. J. Merrick wasn’t dressed like most women her age. Instead of her black suit caressing her body and showing off her assets, it hung from her small frame like an empty tow sack. But if her delicate hands, slender neck and what he could see of her long, perfectly shaped legs were any indication, he’d bet his grandpa’s best coonhound she was hiding some pretty incredible curves inside all that baggy black linen.
“It’s all right, Mrs. Wallace.” Ms. Merrick treated Caleb to a triumphant smile that did strange things to his insides and made him feel as if the temperature in the room had suddenly gone up ten degrees. “I’m sure you’ll understand that applying for a job now would be a waste of time for both of us.” To the guards coming to stand on either side of him, she added, “Please show this gentleman to the parking lot.”
“That’s mighty unfriendly of you,” Caleb said, shaking his head.
Allowing the men to demonstrate how they would handle the situation if he’d been a real threat, Caleb almost laughed out loud when they clumsily grabbed his arms and attempted to pull them behind his back. He immediately decided that they not only needed to work on their response time to a situation, but could both benefit from a refresher course in methods of restraint. If he’d been of a mind to, he could have broken their hold without doing much more than flexing his biceps.
“I’m not here to apply for a job.” He smiled. “I already work here.”
“Oh, really?” Ms. Merrick tilted her head curiously. “Since I do the final interviews for all new employees, would you care to refresh my memory and tell me what your name is, when we hired you and just which area of Skerritt and Crowe you think you work in?”
“I got the job a week ago and I intend to work in the office next to yours.” Chuckling, he decided he was going to enjoy sparring with A. J. Merrick. “The name is Walker. Caleb Walker.”
He could tell from the widening of her baby blues behind those ridiculous glasses that his answers were not what she’d expected. But she quickly recovered her composure and motioned toward the two guards. “Mr. Norton, Mr. Clay, please release Mr. Walker immediately.”
“But Ms. Merrick—”
“I said, let him go,” she repeated. She lifted her stubborn little chin a notch. “Mr. Walker is the new president of Skerritt and Crowe.”
From somewhere behind him, he heard Geneva gasp at the same time as the two guards dropped their hold on him.
“Sorry about that, Mr. Walker,” one of the men said, clumsily trying to straighten Caleb’s shirtsleeve.
Silence reigned for several tense seconds as Caleb and the woman in front of him stared at each other. In a lot of ways she reminded him of another woman and another time.
He took a deep breath. That had been a while back and he’d learned a lot in the few years since. He was no longer a naive farm boy with lofty dreams and a trusting heart. He was a grown man who’d learned his lessons well.
“If you’d give Ms. Merrick and me a few minutes, I’d surely appreciate it,” he finally said as he continued to meet her intense gaze. When he heard the quiet click of the door being pulled shut behind the three, Caleb smiled. “What do you say we start over?” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Caleb Walker. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Merrick.”
When she hesitantly placed her hand in his, the feel of her soft palm against his sent a shock wave all the way to his toes. She apparently felt the same jolt of electric current because she dropped his hand faster than the high-school football captain’s pants hit the floor on prom night. He barely managed to keep from laughing out loud.
“I know I’m earlier than you all expected, but don’t you think it would have been a good idea to inform the employees about me? After all, Emerald Larson called you several days ago to tell you I’d be here at the end of this week.”
“Mrs. Larson indicated that you’d be here on Friday.”
“I’m only a day early,” he said, breathing a bit easier when A.J. didn’t refer to Emerald as his grandmother.
He’d purposely asked Emerald not to mention their relationship when she called Skerritt and Crowe, and it appeared that she’d respected his wishes. He didn’t want or need the added prejudices of being the owner’s grandson when he took over.
“It was my intention to introduce you to everyone tomorrow at the directors’ meeting,” she said, sounding extremely efficient.
“Well, I can guarantee you the cat’s out of the bag now,” he said, grinning. “I’ll bet Geneva and her two sidekicks are spreading the word like fire through a hay field.”
To his amazement, she didn’t even crack a smile. “I’m sure they are.”
Her calm demeanor had Caleb wondering if A. J. Merrick ever let herself lose control. Something told him that it didn’t happen often. But he also sensed that when she did let go, it would be a hell of a sight. What he couldn’t figure out was why he’d like to be there to see it when she did.
She waved her hand at one of the burgundy leather armchairs in front of her desk. “Please have a seat, Mr. Walker.”
Sitting down, he watched her walk around the desk to lower herself into the high-backed executive chair. “Since we’re going to be working together, why don’t we ditch the formalities?” he asked, wondering what made A. J. Merrick tick. “Call me Caleb.”
“I’d rather not, Mr. Walker,” she said, straightening some papers on her desk.
“Why not?” He wasn’t at all surprised by her insistence on formalities. However, he was dismayed by his own persistence in getting her to let down her guard.
She stopped fussing with the documents to give him a pointed look. “It will only complicate things when the time comes for you to let me go.”
Now where had that come from? To his knowledge, he hadn’t given her any reason to feel threatened or to believe he’d be firing her, or anyone else for that matter. But she was acting like it was a done deal.
He sat forward. “Where did you get the harebrained idea that I’d be letting you go?”
“Any time there’s a change in upper management, the result is always the same. The new president or CEO brings in his or her own people for the top positions and the old regime is history.” She shrugged one slender shoulder as she met his gaze head-on. “Since I’m the operations manager over all the departments here at Skerritt and Crowe, mine will be one of the first heads to roll.”
He wasn’t sure, but he thought he detected a slight tremor in her voice. But as she continued to stare at him like he was lower than the stuff he scraped off his boots after a trip through the barnyard, he decided he’d imagined the sound. A. J. Merrick was way too professional to show the slightest bit of emotion. What shocked him more than her steely control was his sudden desire to see what lay beneath that cool facade, to discover what she was so obviously trying to hide.
“Let me put your fears to rest right here and now. I’m not getting rid of you or anyone else,” he said, forcing his mind back to the matter at hand. She had no way of knowing, and he wasn’t about to tell her that he didn’t have a clue about running a firm of financial consultants or that he’d have to rely heavily on her and others’ experience in order to keep from falling on his face. “Your job is just as safe today as it was before Emerald, Inc. bought this firm.”
She pushed her glasses back up her nose with a brush of her hand. “You say that now, but it’s a well-known fact that within six months of any takeover there’s always a shake-up.”
“That might happen with a hostile buyout, but Emerald Larson bought this company with Frank Skerritt and Martin Crowe’s blessings. They both wanted to retire, but neither of them had family members who wanted to take the reins of the firm.”
As he watched her nibble on her lower lip while she considered his words, he found himself wondering if her perfectly shaped lips were as soft and sweet as they looked. Swallowing hard, he decided that he’d better keep his mind on business and off the fact that Ms. Merrick had the most kissable mouth he’d seen in a very long time.
“I’ll be—” he stopped to clear the rust from his throat before he continued “—making a few small changes here and there. But as far as I’m concerned, the only way any of the employees will lose their job is if they up and quit.”
“We’ll see,” she said softly.
Her expression was completely neutral and gave no indication of what she was thinking. But Caleb knew she wasn’t buying his assurances for a minute.
Deciding that he’d probably have more luck convincing a pack of wolves to become vegetarians than he would getting A. J. Merrick to believe her job was secure, Caleb took a deep breath and stood up. “I think I’ll mosey on out of here and introduce myself to a few of our people.”
“But what about the meeting I have set up for tomorrow morning at ten, Mr. Walker?” she asked as she rose from her chair.
Was that a hint of panic he detected in her wide blue eyes?
Interesting. It appeared that any break with tradition threw A. J. Merrick for a loop. He’d have to remember that.