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‘I never thought you would turn into a smug, stuck-up snob.’
‘Why don’t you speak a little louder? I don’t think they heard you over at table ten,’ Rafe quipped.
‘Why do you care what they think? What does it matter to you if I lose my job?’
‘Sarah, perhaps we should talk this out somewhere more private.’
‘Oh, so now you want to speak to me? After five months of ignoring my existence? After fourteen years of not even a postcard when you left for L.A. after graduation? I’m so sorry if hearing the truth makes you uncomfortable.’
He’d opened his mouth to take her down a peg … Then the absurdity of it all hit him. He was renowned for making top corporate raiders quake in their Gucci loafers, but fearless Sarah took him on without a wince.
USA TODAY bestselling author CATHERINE MANN is living out her own fairy-tale ending on a sunny Florida beach with her Prince Charming husband and their four children. With more than thirty-five books in print in more than twenty countries, she has also celebrated wins for both a RITA® Award and a Booksellers’ Best Award. Catherine enjoys chatting with readers online—thanks to the wonders of the wireless internet, which allows her to network with her laptop by the water! To learn more about her work, visit her website, www.catherinemann. com, or reach her by snail mail at P.O. Box 6065, Navarre, FL 32566, USA.
Dear Reader,
How many people wish they could do-over events in life? Well, that’s exactly what Sarah Richards gets when her school sweetheart, Rafe Cameron, returns to town. However, he’s not quite the small-town boy she remembered now that he’s built his financial empire, and she’s no longer the naive girl next door.
In completing a book, I’m always nostalgic over saying goodbye to the characters. But Rafe and Sarah have an extra-special place in my heart since I had the privilege of chronicling their early romance through short stories at the end of each of the five prior books in The Takeover series. Rafe and Sarah have worked hard and waited long for their happily ever after. I hope you enjoy reading how Rafe finally claims his small-town bride!
Happy reading!
Catherine Mann
www.CatherineMann.com
Acquired:
The CEO’s Small-
Town Bride
Catherine Mann
www.millsandboon.co.uk
To my sister Julie and her husband Todd—
school sweethearts who are still celebrating their
happily-ever-after more than twenty years later!
Don’t miss a single book in this series!
The Takeover
For better, for worse. For business, for pleasure.
These tycoons have vowed to have it all!
Claimed: The Pregnant Heiress by Day Leclaire
Seduced: The Unexpected Virgin by Emily McKay
Revealed: His Secret Child by Sandra Hyatt
Bought: His Temporary Fiancée by Yvonne Lindsay
Exposed: Her Undercover Millionaire by Michelle Celmer
Acquired: The CEO’s Small-Town Bride by Catherine Mann
One
A veteran waitress at the Vista del Mar Beach and Tennis Club, Sarah Richards knew the number one rule for servers: never spill hot coffee on a man’s cojones.
For the first time in fourteen years, she was tempted to risk her job.
Sarah tucked a signed receipt into the register while her gaze tracked along the lunch crowd to a table by the window. Where he sat. Her old high school boyfriend.
Rafe Cameron.
He settled into a chair across from his stepbrother, Chase Larson, seemingly oblivious to everyone else whispering about him even five months after his fateful homecoming. Why couldn’t he have turned into a troll? Instead, the years had been so very kind to him. He looked even better than when they’d dated during their senior year. And he’d been mighty fine, unforgettable eye candy even then.
Rafe’s blond hair had darkened to more of a tawny shade, his blue eyes icy-sharp even across the bustling dining room. Thick muscles roped his frame with a maturity that had only been hinted at during their teenage years when she’d wrapped herself around him in the back of his El Camino. Her traitorous body turned warm and tingly now, as it had then.
Apparently she hadn’t made as large an impact on him. In all the time since he’d come back, Rafe Cameron hadn’t spoken to her even once. At some point the man could have at least stuck out his hand for a “Hi, great to see you again” kind of greeting. She might have thought he was going so far as to avoid her. But it appeared she had become an insignificant part of his past.
The self-absorbed jackass deserved a pot of coffee in his lap.
Even worse than thumbing his nose at her, he’d stomped on the dreams of everyone in Vista del Mar. When the hometown poor boy returned as a mogul, everyone had hoped he would save the microchip factory, the small California community’s lifeblood. But no. Last month, the Seaside Gazette had run an article announcing Rafe’s plans to halt operations at the plant.
Just thinking about that exposé in the newspaper … Anger steamed to life hard and fast at the prospect of her hardworking parents losing their jobs. She slammed the register drawer with extra oomph. And in seconds she would speak to Rafe “Judas” Cameron since bad luck had placed him at one of her tables.
Eyes off the coffee, sister.
She needed this job. She didn’t have a family trust fund cushion like the patrons dining here.
A quietly cleared throat interrupted her thoughts. Heaven forbid somebody would catch her gawking at Rafe and mistake her curiosity for rekindled interest. Expecting her boss or another waitress, Sarah spun around to find her grandmother, arms crossed and brows high.
Busted. Nobody got jack past Kathleen Richards. Best to play this cool though.
Sarah met green eyes the same shade as her own. Looking at Grandma Kat was like peering into a fast-forward mirror of herself a few decades from now, with the help of a little auburn hair dye. They even shared fiery natures, impulsive to the end. Although Kathleen edged closer to the flamboyant side as years went by. Sarah adored her, this woman who’d known the secret wishes of a preschooler that wanted roller skates rather than a china doll.
“Hi, Grandma Kat. Are you here for lunch?” She sidestepped a waitress balancing a tray. The scent of chlorine wafted in through the open French doors where some patrons ate lunch outside under sleek black umbrellas.
Kathleen had come to the exclusive club often during her tenure as personal assistant to Ronald Worth, prior owner of the microchip factory. “I think not. It’s more than a little out of my price range now that I’m retired on a fixed income.” She patted her purse, shaped like a pink-and-black bustier. “I’ve come to see you, sweetie, since you’re ignoring my calls.
Nilda and I are meeting up at Bistro by the Sea. We would love for you to join us.”
“So you can tell me all about whatever new eligible bachelor has crossed your path, a bachelor I absolutely must meet?” She winced at the possibility Grandma Kat may have caught her gobbling up Rafe with her eyes. “Seriously, have you ever considered opening a speed dating service?”
“You could be my first client.” Her outrageous grandmother winked, silver Siamese cat earrings swaying.
Kathleen had doubled down on her matchmaking efforts last month once Sarah reached the third anniversary of her husband’s death in a car accident. She missed Quentin, always would, but she would deal with that on her own, without well-meaning interference.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.” Sarah hooked an arm around Kathleen for a quick hug, urging her toward the door flanked by palm trees. “Love you so much. Don’t need the help. Now shoo. I have to work.”
Best to take Rafe’s order quickly, like bolting back bad-tasting medicine. A sense of dread swept through her at the thought of going over there. Not just because of her temper, but because of that traitorous heat he inspired with memories that clearly meant nothing to him, yet still had the power to make her heart beat faster.
Grandma Kat stayed stubbornly in her path. “Is there anything wrong with wanting to invite my favorite granddaughter out for coffee on her break?”
“I’m your only granddaughter and my break isn’t for another hour. Stop worrying. I’m fine.” Fine, and trying not to think about all the sensual reminiscences tied up with that infuriating man across the room. “I’m just concerned about the factory closing like everyone else.”
Rafe’s need for revenge against one person would cost the town so much—too much. During their teens, she’d listened to him plan how he would bring down Worth Industries, bring down Ronald Worth. When Rafe had left the night of graduation, she’d never expected him to carry those plans out, and especially not at the expense of so many others. It seemed like only yesterday they’d disdained the sort of people who threw away their hard-earned money on a single meal that cost more than some weekly grocery bills.
Kathleen gave Sarah’s ponytail a teasing tug. “All right then. I’ll let you off the hook—for now. But I really do need to speak with you. Let’s have dinner tomorrow. I’ll cook, and I already know that’s your day off so don’t try to fool me,” her grandmother ordered, then fast-footed it out the door before Sarah could argue.
No more delays in speaking to Rafe. She checked his table, and sure enough, he hadn’t done them all a huge favor by evaporating into thin air. And he still looked bad-boy dreamy, blond and rugged.
Her fist clenched around the pen and pad in her apron pocket, arming herself for the showdown. She strode across the dining room, toward the picture window with its million-dollar view of the Pacific. About fifteen feet above sea level, the club sported stone steps carved into the bluff leading to a sandy beach swept clean of pebbles. A natural cove, rocky and secluded and romantic—she knew that firsthand from when she’d dated Rafe.
As she closed the distance between them, snippets of conversation hit her ears like someone changing radio stations. A business deal was made over Cobb salads. At another linen-covered table, two wafer-thin trophy wives pushed fruit and cottage cheese around their plates while discussing jaunts to Hawaii.
Eyes on the target, she reminded herself.
Having him walk away after high school, never contacting her, had been painful. The way he acted now just made her plain old mad. She whipped out her pen and notepad with a speed worthy of any quick draw from a Wild West cowboy.
Waiting and wondering what it would be like to run into Rafe Cameron again had come to an end. She would take the lead in instigating a showdown reunion he would never forget.
Rafe Cameron had tried to forget Sarah Richards over the past fourteen years, with little success. The woman had stayed stamped in his memory long after she’d married some other guy mere seconds after Rafe left town.
Not that he held grudges. Much.
Half listening to his stepbrother seated across from him, Rafe watched Sarah make her way toward them. Red hair scraped back in a ponytail, she dodged a silver serving cart of tea and coffee. Her curvy body was mouthwateringly showcased in a simple white shirt with black slacks, typical uniform for the staff. But Sarah had always been anything but typical.
As she charged closer, her feisty temper crackled in her jade eyes. He was used to animosity since he’d announced his plans to close the factory. In fact, he was surprised Sarah hadn’t unloaded on him sooner. She’d never been one to hold back in the past and she was gunning for bear now. Apparently some things never changed.
Like how his body reacted to just a simple glimpse of her heart-shaped face … her generous breasts. Heat pumped through him, uninvited and unwelcomed. He’d come back to Vista del Mar to settle a score, to destroy Worth Industries. After all, Ronald Worth had shown no mercy when firing Rafe’s parents without cause. Rafe refused to feel guilty for doling out justice in his dead mother’s name.
No one, not even Sarah Richards, would distract him.
She stopped at his table, pad and pen in hand. “May I take your order, Mr. Cameron?”
“Of course, Miss Richards.” He spun the stem of his empty crystal glass between two fingers. “Or wait, that should be Mrs. Dobbs.”
“It’s Richards again.”
A tic started in the corner of his eye. Interesting that she would return to her maiden name after Quentin Dobbs’s death. “Sarah Richards then.”
“Uh,” his stepbrother, Chase Larson, interjected, looking from one to the other, “good to see you again, Sarah, but if you two will excuse me for a minute, I have to make a call. Just put me down for the pasta primavera and iced tea.” With a half smile, Chase checked out.
Leaving Rafe alone with her.
He nudged aside his crystal glass. “Good to see you again, Sarah.”
“Oh, so you do remember me.” Acrimony dripped from her every word. “Not that you’ve so much as said boo to me since coming to town five months ago. That leads me to wonder. Are you too good to speak with your old friends these days?”
Surprise jolted him. How odd that she was mad about a rebuff, rather than the factory. Or at least that she’d found the slight important enough to bring up.
A flash of pride shot through him to register that far up on her radar after all this time. “That’s a lot of animosity to carry around for a high school sweetheart.”
“This isn’t about the past.” She jabbed the table with her pen. “It’s about the present, how you’re acting now. I’m surprised you have the guts to come here and casually knock back some cocktails after what you’ve done.”
“It’s lunchtime. Everybody’s gotta eat, Kitten.”
Her mouth went tight as he used his nickname from their past. They’d told the world his nickname for her had come because she looked so much like her grandmother—little kitten to Grandma Kat. But in reality, he’d given Sarah the label because of her temper—and because she’d left scratch marks on his back during a make-out session. And of course there was also that sweet way she purred in the back of her throat when he …
Rafe adjusted his tie. While they’d never gone all the way, they’d experimented plenty with other means for taking the edge off their sexual frustration. His thumb rubbed absently against two fingers and he could swear he still felt the silky slickness from bringing Sarah to completion.
Nostrils flaring, he tapped her notepad. “What’s the lunch special today?”
“You’re really going to pretend nothing’s wrong? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. From what I hear you’re so heartless now, you eat puppies and babies for breakfast.” Her voice rose with each word, until two ladies in tennis skirts peered at her over their menus. “The way you’re shutting down the plant, you’re lucky nobody’s poisoned your meals. Yet.”
“Guess I’ll have to hire a food taster.” He’d forgotten about her sharp tongue, but rather enjoyed it now. Not many stood up to him these days. Most folks were too busy kissing his ass in hopes of currying favor.
Too fast, his mind zipped back to other ways she used to drive him crazy with that very same smart mouth of hers.
“It shouldn’t be too tough to find a sucker willing to work for you since over half the town will be out of a job soon, thanks to you. Hey …” She snapped her fingers, her smile theatrically bright. “Maybe you have an application handy so I can pass it along to my parents since they’ll undoubtedly be first to get the ax.”
She had a lot of nerve chewing him out. He’d worked his tail off making something of himself after leaving this place. Every step of the way he’d envisioned riding back into town on his proverbial white horse and freeing Sarah from poverty’s grip. Great plan. Except she’d quickly shifted her undying love to another guy, a man she’d married. Sure, the guy had died three years ago, but that didn’t change the past.
So yeah, he’d ignored her since returning to Vista del Mar. Why the hell would he think she even wanted to speak to him now?
Gasping for air, Sarah paused her tirade, but not for long. “What? Nothing to say for yourself? You may have fooled some people at first with all your phony philanthropy, setting up a literacy charity in your mother’s name. Hannah’s Hope.” She shook her head. “But you didn’t trick me with your tax write-off attempt to get people to lower their guards. Is your need for revenge against Ronald Worth and his cronies really important enough to destroy so many lives?”
He held his peace for the moment, surprised—stunned even—to be called on the carpet so openly, so publicly. Although frankly, most of her accusations were true. He had come back to town for revenge. He was about to shut the factory and make a huge windfall.
Sure, the factory could be viable, but the effort and expense … No. He hadn’t come this far in the work world by being a sap. And hell, yes, he was enjoying rubbing Ronald Worth’s nose in every bit of the success.
But Sarah missed the mark in a huge and unforgivable way when she mocked anything to do with his mother. Anger steamed slowly. “Business is business, Kitten.”
“Do not call me that.” Her knuckles went white as she clenched her pen tighter.
Her ire fueled his own. “But that name holds such fond memories for me. Remember the way you—”
“Argh!” She stomped her foot. “I never thought you would turn into a smug, stuck-up snob.”
“Why don’t you speak a little louder? I don’t think they heard you over at table ten.”
“Why do you care what they think? What does it matter to you if I lose my job?” She plowed ahead with her rant, until the two women at the next table gave up all pretense of studying the menu and listened openly. “Do you even remember what it’s like to work for minimum wage? To live paycheck to paycheck, all the time knowing you could lose your car or worse if a case of the flu keeps you out of work for a week?”
Conversations dwindled to a stop around the club. Not even a tink of silverware sounded, only muffled clanks from the kitchen.
“Sarah, perhaps we should talk this out somewhere more private.”
“Oh, so now you want to speak to me? After five months of ignoring my existence? After fourteen years of not even a postcard when you left for L.A. after graduation? Well, screw you. I’m so sorry if hearing the truth makes you uncomfortable.”
He’d opened his mouth to take her down a peg … then the absurdity of it all hit him. He was renowned for making top corporate raiders quake in their Gucci loafers, but fearless Sarah took him on without a wince.
A laugh rumbled low in his chest, rising and rolling out to fill the exclusive dining room.
“Damn it, Rafe, don’t you dare laugh at me.” Her face turned redder.
And he laughed harder.
A man with a “manager” pin on his jacket and harried look on his face wove his way around a table toward them. “Is there some kind of problem here, Mr. Cameron?”
“Not at all,” Rafe said, trying his best to tamp down the laughter if not the urge to smile. “Ms. Richards and I were just catching up.”
The manager turned to Sarah. “Ms. Richards, please do your ‘catching up’ on your own time.”
“Of course. I’ll be sure to keep my voice down, sir,” she said tightly before facing Rafe again. “My apologies for popping your eardrums. Could I start you off with something to drink?”
She looked about as sorry as a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar—after she’d eaten her fill.
“No apologies needed,” Rafe answered, and couldn’t resist adding, “Kitten.”
Her eyes narrowed. Her chest heaved with a deep inhale, bringing to mind prom night when he’d seen her gorgeous breasts in the moonlight. They’d been in the back of his beat-up El Camino, under the stars, making out by the ocean. There hadn’t been enough money to attend the after-party with their friends. He’d felt like crap for shortchanging her. But she’d sworn she didn’t mind.
The next thing he knew, she’d skimmed aside the spaghetti straps on her gown and bared her breasts. He could still remember the smell of her wrist corsage, the feel of how she’d dug her kitten claws into his back with a sweet sigh.
Then he’d learned she was drunk because someone had spiked the punch. Their evening ended abruptly and he’d driven her to his house for sobering coffee.
Rafe skimmed a finger along his shirt collar. “Um, I’ll take you up on that drink offer while I wait for Chase to finish his call.”
Sarah smiled full out and with his brain too fogged with memories of her tight nipples against his chest he didn’t bother analyzing what had made her grin.
She gestured to the silver drink cart a few feet away. “Some iced tea … or coffee perhaps?”
“Tea, thanks.” He didn’t need any more heat coursing through his body right now.
“Coming up in a jiffy.” A gleam in her eyes, she hefted the cut-crystal pitcher full of amber and ice.
He picked up his empty glass and held it out for her. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
The sparks in her jade eyes gave him a scant second’s warning that she wasn’t done with him yet. He should have remembered that Sarah didn’t back down. He should have shaken off the mind-numbing memory of seeing her half-naked. Green eyes jewel-tone hard, she upended the pitcher ….
And poured iced tea squarely onto his lap.
Two
Rafe jerked back in shock as Sarah dumped the pitcher full of iced tea over his lap. He dodged most of the contents, his chair clattering back against the floor. All the same, a hefty splash caught his legs, leaving his Brioni suit pants cold and clammy against his skin.
Sarah had always delivered the unexpected, something that apparently hadn’t changed in fourteen years. Not many dared stand up to him these days and he had to confess he found the challenge refreshing. Chuckling softly, he swept beads of liquid from his thighs.
Around the room, silverware clattered against plates and chairs scraped back as curious diners zeroed in on them. Not that Rafe had ever cared what anyone else thought.
The manager charged toward him, face red. Rafe held up a hand stopping him in his tracks, then waving him away. He didn’t have to bother checking to see if the manager honored his request. No one argued with him anymore.
Except Sarah.
Right now his entire focus stayed on the female in front of him, the one woman he could never forget. Fourteen years ago, she’d been a great big risk to his ambitions.
And now? Apparently he was every bit as drawn to her as ever. He laughed—at himself this time, because staying away from Sarah hadn’t done him a damn bit of good.
Sarah slammed down the pitcher, anger steaming off her. “You think this is funny?”
Standing, he dipped his head close to her ear, close enough to catch a whiff of her floral shampoo. “I think I got under your skin.”
Awareness crackled and the bustle of the dining room faded away. Her breasts swelled with each rapidly increasing breath. If he stepped so much as an inch closer, their bodies would brush, tempt, ignite. Her pupils widened with arousal, pushing through the sparkling green. Once he’d dreamed of draping her in emeralds to accent her eyes and making love to her naked other than the jewels. As a man who prided himself on reaching every goal he set for himself, leaving loose ends grated. But there wasn’t going to be a positive outcome with Sarah. Only frustration piled on top of more frustration.