THE BOSS’S SURPRISE SON

TERESA CARPENTER

DOCTORING THE SINGLE DAD

MARIE FERRARELLA

www.millsandboon.co.uk

THE BOSS’S SURPRISE SON

TERESA CARPENTER

About the Author

TERESA CARPENTER believes in the power of unconditional love, and that there’s no better place to find it than between the pages of a romance novel. Reading is a passion for Teresa—a passion that led to a calling. She began writing more than twenty years ago, and marks the sale of her first book as one of her happiest memories. Teresa gives back to her craft by volunteering her time to Romance Writers of America on a local and national level.

A fifth generation Californian, she lives in San Diego, within miles of her extensive family, and knows with their help she can accomplish anything. She takes particular joy and pride in her nieces and nephews, who are all bright, fit, shining stars of the future. If she’s not at a family event you’ll usually find her at home—reading, writing, or playing with her adopted Chihuahua, Jefe.

Dear Reader,

My dedication in this book is to my niece and her new husband, who got married while I was writing this book. She’s a beautiful young mother, and he’s a handsome young sailor from the Midwest. They met on a Navy base in California, and the rest is just the beginning of a long history to be lived.

A wedding is truly a magical event when it’s for the right reasons. In our stories we often bend the order of things —putting our characters in marriages and then letting them find love together. It’s fun, isn’t it? Watching them find their way to each other?

Seeing my niece and her new husband’s joy in each other was truly inspirational as I finished Rick and Savannah’s story. I hope you enjoy their journey.

Teresa Carpenter

For my beautiful niece Erika Beasley and her

handsome groom Aaron Miller

Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Miller

Welcome to the family, Aaron

CHAPTER ONE

RICK SULLIVAN left his office on the hunt for food. He’d been wrapped up in meetings with his department managers all morning going over end-of-year goals. They looked as if they would exceed projected sales. A good thing as he hoped to take Sullivans’ Jewels into the international market next year to celebrate their centennial.

Not the best timing for his personal assistant to be out for knee surgery.

He noticed with relief that his new assistant Savannah Jones wasn’t at her desk and moved over to flip the hourglass she kept on the corner. One end was white marble, the other black, and she’d asked him to place it black-side-up whenever he left the building. Apparently it was a pressing question when people saw his door was open.

When he got closer he saw he’d been both right and wrong. Ms. Jones wasn’t at her desk, she was under it.

He slowly shook his head. He had two weaknesses: chocolate and his paternal grandmother. Both had the potential to get him in trouble, but where he could muster the discipline to say no to chocolate chip cookies, he’d never mastered the art of denying Gram’s pleading blue eyes.

Which explained his current view of his new assistant’s backside as she delved under her desk.

Temporary assistant, he reminded himself. His regular assistant, the highly efficient Miss Molly Green would be back in six months, two weeks, five days and—he glanced at his watch—three hours and forty-five minutes.

Damn right he was counting. And it was all Gram’s fault. She’d convinced him to hire Ms. Jones, a bit of fluff with little practical work experience and a penchant for chatter. Gram knew the Jones family, and when Rick blew through three assistants in the first three weeks of Molly’s leave, Gram took advantage of his guilt and frustration to refer her friend and to insist he keep Ms. Jones on until Molly’s return.

Though Ms. Jones’s head burrowed out of view, he had no problem recognizing the half on display. Her bent position caused the gray fabric of her pants to pull taut, intimately framing the lush jut of her derriere.

Suddenly warm, he shrugged out of his jacket and without conscious thought walked around the side of her desk to get a better view.

His cheeks heated when he realized what he’d done. Annoyed at himself and her, he snapped, “Ms. Jones, what do you think you’re doing?”

She started and a muffled “Ouch!” followed the sound of her head hitting the underside of the desk. “I’m … trying to …” She tugged on something out of sight, the motion causing her hips to wiggle enticingly. “… plug in my new electric stapler. But … the cord is … stuck.”

More tugging, more wiggling, and he saw a bulky gray object shift on her desk.

Honestly, did he deserve this? It wasn’t as if he expected his assistant to wait on him. He took care of his own coffee, dry cleaning and personal business. Were competent, efficient and prompt too much to ask for?

And okay, to be fair, in the four weeks she’d been here Ms. Jones had shown she understood instructions and could successfully proof her own work, which was better than the misfits he’d gone through in the first three weeks. But her methods were all over the place, much like her shifting hips.

“Ms. Jones, surely you could have called maintenance to handle this for you?” he asked impatiently.

“Gracious, I’m not going to call maintenance just for a plug-in. The cord is just a little short, that’s all. I’ll be finished here in a moment. Did you need something?”

Wiggle, bend, wiggle.

Rick groaned as heat flared through him once again, and he almost strangled on his own breath.

Did he need something? Was she kidding? He’d be lucky to remember his own name at the moment. He should walk away, just end the torment. Yet, everything in him denied him the option of leaving her vulnerable to another man’s approach. He glanced around sharply to make sure no male neared the vicinity. They were alone—both a blessing and a curse.

“Ms. Jones, I insist you remove yourself from under there this instant,” he bit out.

“I’ve almost got it, but it’s stuck. Can you push the cord through from that side?” she asked.

Anything to bring this scene to a close. He moved behind the desk and bent forward to shove the electric stapler closer to the opening for cords. Unfortunately the hole was full and the cord buckled up instead of dropping down.

He hesitated. He’d have to step between her legs to get the leverage he needed and somehow that seemed too intimate.

“Rick?”

“Just a blasted minute. You have too many cords in here.” Manning up, he carefully placed his foot in the narrow opening between her shins and leaned over her to reach the tangle of cords. He shoved at the stubborn cord and his weight shifted, bringing his knee in contact with the soft cushion of her butt.

“Aha!” she exclaimed.

He nearly jumped out of his skin in his hurry to retreat to safety.

“That did it.” Triumph rang in her voice.

He kept his gaze carefully plastered to her screen saver, a picture of her with her brother and sister, as she backed out and dusted off her hands.

“Thanks for the help.” Her leaf-green eyes smiled as she ran a hand down the length of her mahogany ponytail to check it was smooth. “What can I do for you?”

His mind went blank. Why had he stopped at her desk?

“You can stay out from under your desk. We have maintenance on site for a reason. Next time use them,” he ordered. Turning on his heel, he returned to his office.

His stomach growled as he sat behind his desk, reminding him of his original mission. He ignored it. He’d rather go hungry than wander out that door again.

The corner of Savannah Jones’s lip curled upward in perplexed amusement as she watched her boss disappear into his office. What had that been about? He’d never even said what he wanted.

And for the first time the look in his piercing blue eyes sent a tingle zinging down her spine.

She shook it off and took her seat.

His high-handed attitude was nothing new. Nor was his gruffness—truly, the man could teach grim to the reaper—but his agitation and the fact he couldn’t hold her gaze was.

Hmm. It was almost as if she’d made him nervous.

How interesting.

At six-one with thick dark hair, broad shoulders, narrow hips and piercing blue eyes Rick Sullivan had it all over Dr. McDreamy. And, oh, Savannah had it bad for Dr. McDreamy.

Wait. Wait. Wait. What was she thinking?

Rick made her tingle? She made him nervous? Neither emotion belonged in the workplace. And neither was good when there was no future for them except as colleagues.

She loved her new job, the challenge, the diversity, the responsibility. Executive assistant to the CEO of Sullivans’ Jewels, a family-owned jewelry chain, was more than she’d ever dreamed of. More than she’d ever dared to hope for. Especially with her varied work history, from waitress to floral delivery to two years as a temp in corporate San Diego, she felt like she’d done it all.

She was determined to do a great job. She owed the Sullivans so much, especially Mrs. Sullivan, Rick’s grandmother, not only for this opportunity but also for all they’d done for her sister. The Sullivan family donated two five-thousand-dollar scholarships a year to Paradise Pines students for their college education, renewable each year if the students maintained certain grade levels and continued to give back to the Paradise Pines community.

Savannah’s sister, Claudia, had benefited from their generosity for the past four years. She’d be graduating with honors later this year.

Savannah hadn’t gone to college, and she’d been well into her twenties before she got her first job. Her high-school years had been spent caring for her mom. She’d been seventeen when the cancer eventually took her mom, and her dad had just disappeared into his work, leaving Savannah to raise her younger brother and sister.

So, yeah, she’d already done the family thing, but now Daniel was a cop in La Mesa with a beautiful wife and daughter and Claudia was about to graduate college. It was time for Savannah to think about her own career. She was done playing around, hopping from job to job. This might not be teaching, which she’d dreamed of doing long ago, but it was a career to be proud of, and she wasn’t going to screw it up.

Even if Rick didn’t have an aversion to a workplace romance—and he’d made it more than clear he did—she had an aversion to workaholics. Been there. Done that.

Never again.

Rick worked, worked and worked some more. He was an expert at ignoring personal interaction on the job, to the point where he was considered positively antisocial by most of the staff.

He wasn’t much of a talker, and, the Lord help her, she felt compelled to fill the quiet. So, while he read over reports and letters, she filled him in on all the office gossip. Nothing harmful, just birthdays, anniversaries, family events and such.

He probably didn’t even hear her, though occasionally he’d hold up a finger for silence. So maybe he took in more than she thought.

Taking her seat, she noticed he’d flipped the hourglass black-side-up, which meant he’d been headed out of the office. She didn’t know of any appointments, but he’d been tied up with his managers all day so he’d probably been heading for some lunch.

So why had he retreated to his office instead?

Hmm. Perhaps because she’d made him nervous?

With a grin she reached for the phone to order him a sandwich from a local deli that delivered.

The two of them might not have a future together, but it still felt good to send a man as hot and strong-willed as Rick Sullivan into an agitated retreat. Her self-esteem appreciated the boost.

After placing the order, she reached for her mirror and refreshed her lipstick, suddenly feeling very female and proud of it.

Being executive assistant to the president and CEO of Sullivans’ Jewels demanded a professional appearance. Unfortunately, she’d spent too many years at home not worrying about her makeup or the need to tame her thick mass of hair.

Now a check in the morning and pop-up reminders in her email program kept her from becoming too frayed around the edges throughout the day.

Happily, she noted that there was nothing caught in her straight white teeth, which she considered one of her best features, thanks to Dr. Stevens and three years in braces, though she’d hated them when she was twelve, both Dr. Stevens and the braces.

Now she thanked the beauty gods for her straight teeth and plump lips, which she felt made up for her average features.

When the sandwich arrived, she knocked on Rick’s door and got a finger wave to enter. He eyed her suspiciously as she crossed the room. Tickled by his reaction, she gave him a huge smile as she set the bag on his desk, causing his eyes to narrow even more.

“I thought you might be hungry.”

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“No problem,” she said cheerfully.

She didn’t linger but turned to leave and, because a girl had to find her fun where she could, added a little wiggle to her walk.

A strange sound, kind of a muffled groan, followed her exit. With a wicked grin she settled behind her desk suddenly energized to tackle the afternoon.

The next morning Savannah entered the conference room for her first monthly sales meeting juggling two boxes, a cup of coffee, her notebook and a pile of copies.

Of course Rick already sat at the head of the table. He glanced up at her with a pained look as she dropped her load on the table.

“You’re late, Ms. Jones. What is all that?”

“Copies of the reports you requested plus doughnuts and a few bran muffins for the healthy-minded.” She set her work and coffee aside and opened one of the boxes. “I hope that’s okay. You forgot to tell me if you wanted bagels or doughnuts for the meeting, and I have a Donut Stop near my place so I just ran through there.”

“I didn’t forget anything,” he corrected her. “This is a meeting, not a social event.”

“Oh.” Savannah blinked at him. No food at a morning meeting? The man was Scrooge. Seemed she couldn’t do anything to please him. “I always thought it was a show of appreciation for valued employees.” She set the box in the middle of the table toward the far end. “It’ll be my treat today.”

He scowled at that.

Undeterred—she’d learned while nursing her mother not to let someone else’s mood bring her down—she opened the second box and pulled out napkins and plates, spacing them out over the table. And then she took the box to him, because he might be stiff, but she really did want to impress him and earn a permanent position in his company. “Would you like one?”

She expected him to refuse, but he surprised her by taking a chocolate cake doughnut and placing it on the plate she offered.

“Thank you.”

“Doughnuts! Now you’re talking.” Rett Sullivan, Rick’s twin and a co-owner of Sullivans’ Jewels, along with their four brothers, walked through the door, snagging a cinnamon roll on the way to his seat next to Rick. “You should have done this years ago.”

“You can thank Ms. Jones,” Rick advised.

“Ms. Jones.” Rett toasted her with his coffee mug. “Not only beautiful but sharp and generous, too. When I see you later, I’ll have to thank you properly.”

“I’m sure she got the message,” Rick stated pointedly in a clear signal for his twin to desist.

In response, Rett winked at Savannah.

As identical twins, the two men obviously shared the same height, same build, same coloring. But Rett carried his weight leaner, meaner, his hair longer. Vice President of Design and Purchasing, Rett spurned what he described as the boring, restrictive suits Rick wore, stating they stifled his creativity. Instead, he chose matching dress pants and shirts in solid colors and rich fabrics. Today he wore a dark chocolate brown. The chain of his St. Christopher medal gleamed gold against his neck.

He was a charming flirt, easy to be with and easy to resist. They’d become friends when she asked him to teach her how to work with precious gems to design a gift for her sister’s college graduation.

Rick’s scowl landed on her again, and she quickly reached for the stack of copies and began putting one set at each seat around the table.

The doughnuts were a big hit as sales managers and associates began to fill the room. There was friendly chatter as everyone helped themselves. When she regained her seat, she slid a sideways glance at Rick. He was watching those in the room as if seeing them for the first time.

She wondered if that was a good thing. He began the meeting promptly at eight-thirty and kept to the agenda, moving smoothly from topic to topic while encouraging input from everyone at the table. He had her taking notes, but she noticed he also jotted down items when someone made a good point.

At the end of the meeting the room quickly emptied out, except for Rick. Savannah began clearing the debris.

“Ms. Jones?” He waited until she glanced up to meet his gaze. “What do you have going on with Rett?”

Savannah groaned internally. Just great. Because of Rett’s playful comments Rick now had the wrong impression about them. She could tell him about the lessons; they weren’t a secret. But she wasn’t entirely sure he’d approve or believe she didn’t have a thing for his brother. So she decided to prevaricate.

Avoiding his gaze, she dumped a load of trash and then picked up the wastebasket and brought it back to the table to finish the cleanup.

“I don’t have anything with him today, but you wanted me to sit in on the meeting for the security upgrade and that’s tomorrow.”

He blinked, and then crossed his arms over his chest. “I meant are you seeing him?”

“I see him every day.” She smiled and blinked, playing confused.

Should she just tell him? After all, it wasn’t the office romance he feared. No, best not open a can of worms. The lessons were important to her and she didn’t want to mess things up.

What if he wanted to see her work as proof? With two weeks of lessons under her belt she was thrilled at how well she was doing, but she was still new at the craft and by no means ready to go public with her efforts. Especially not to a professional jeweler.

“It sounded like he expected to see you later. As if you had a date,” he stated baldly.

“Gracious no. That’s just Rett.” She waved a careless hand, her comment true, yet not an outright denial, a fact that didn’t slip past Rick if his narrowed gaze was any indication. “He’s a bit of a flirt, you know,” she confided as if sharing a secret.

And then she just continued to smile and waited for him to move on.

And waited. He stood, hands in his pockets, staring at her.

“Or maybe I misunderstood,” she said guilelessly. “Did you want me to find him and ask him something?”

“No. I—” He glanced at his watch, clearly still suspicious, but mindful of his schedule. “Never mind. Can you stop by the legal department on your way back to your desk? I want to know if we’ve received the signed contracts from Emerson for the international deal. We should have received them by now.”

“Of course.” Savannah dumped the last of the trash, glad to have avoided the confrontation. For now. He’d find out eventually. But she hoped to be indispensable by then.

Her lessons were important to her. But private. For years the classes she took at night and online had been her only freedom, her bid for independence from too much responsibility at home.

She still took courses that interested her or furthered her career. She just didn’t talk about them much. Somehow, they’d always been too important to share. The knowledge, yes, but the classes, she kept to herself.

Nobody could steal the joy from her if they didn’t know about it.

Rick turned to leave, and then paused. “The doughnuts were a nice touch. Be sure to put in an expense voucher.”

Savannah watched him go. Not so stiff after all.

Deciding he needed a break later that afternoon, Rick dropped by Rett’s workshop to see if he wanted to go kayaking.

“Man that sounds so good.” Rett didn’t lift his head from the piece he was faceting. “But I have a client consult in twenty minutes. Can you wait an hour?”

“No. I only have about an hour. I’m going to go ahead and go. I really need to work off some tension,” Rick said.

“Okay, we’ll connect later in the week. Call me when you get back, so I don’t send the Coast Guard out looking for you,” Rett replied.

As he hopped into his kayak and began paddling against the waves, Rick realized he’d really needed the fresh air and exercise. Pitting himself against the ocean, using his mind and muscles to beat the elements gave him a sense of freedom he got nowhere else.

Unfortunately, the rhythmic lift, dip and pull of paddling, first one side and then the other, left room for thoughts of Savannah to invade his mind. Darn it. Too often thoughts of her occupied him when he should be concentrating on business.

The idea of her spending private time with Rett nagged at him. And not just because of Rick’s policy against interoffice relationships—Rett followed his own rules in that regard and was much less strict in his personal interaction with colleagues.

But Savannah was Rick’s. Oh, not romantically, but still, he realized he didn’t want to share her with anybody.

He dug in deeper, pulled back harder, causing water to roll over the sides of the shallow boat.

Okay, he’d noticed her soft curves and her great legs. Of course he’d noticed; he was a man after all. But he had no business noticing. She was his administrative assistant, not his girlfriend.

His inappropriate thoughts served as a reminder of why he never mixed business with pleasure. It was a bad practice. It definitely led to trouble and, for him, it had no future.

His muscles burned and the chill, salt-laden air felt good against his sweaty brow.

Marriage wasn’t for him. In his experience love was always followed by pain. Better to keep his relationships light and put his energies into the business.

As for Savannah, he wished her gone, not hanging out with Rett.

Turning the kayak, Rick firmly put thoughts of Savannah’s body, dating and marriage aside and headed back to shore. He had a business to tend to.

CHAPTER TWO

RICK HAD STEPPED OUT FOR LUNCH the next afternoon when a pretty redhead toting a baby carrier stopped by Savannah’s desk.

“Hi, I’m Rick’s sister-in-law, Jesse,” the woman introduced herself. “His brother Brock’s wife. Is he in?”

“I’m sorry, no. I’m his new assistant, Savannah. Can I help you with something?” she offered.

“Right, Savannah.” The woman offered her hand with a genuine smile. “Gram speaks very highly of you. She mentioned something about you working with Rick.”

“Mrs. Sullivan is a doll,” Savannah enthused. “I really appreciate her putting in a good word for me with Rick. I’m very excited to have this opportunity.”

A fussy cry came from the carrier, and Jesse grimaced at Savannah before cooing at her baby. Once the fussing quieted, she looked up again.

“I have an appointment with Rett to discuss a gift for Gram for her eighty-fifth birthday. The guys are throwing a big surprise party, so they want it to be something spectacular.”

“She’ll love that. When is her birthday? I’d love to get her a little something to show my appreciation.”

“Oh it’s not for another few months.” Jesse rolled her eyes at herself. “I know, I’m way anal, but I like to start early. And we want a really spectacular gift so it’s only fair to give Rett plenty of time to work. But Troy is awake and alert now and wants attention. I was hoping Rick would take him for a few minutes while I consult with Rett.”

“Oh, well …” Watching a baby, even his own nephew, didn’t sound like a Rick activity, but Jesse must know her brother-in-law better than Savannah did. “How long do you expect to be?”

“Only about twenty minutes. That’s all Rett could squeeze in today, but we wanted to get started and at least discuss what we want to do.” She bounced the carrier when another cry sounded. “Never mind. I know Rett won’t mind—he loves the kids. We just won’t get as much done as we’d hoped.”

Savannah glanced at the hourglass; most of the sand had already fallen to the bottom half. Rick rarely took a full hour for lunch. “He should be back soon. If you like, you can leave Troy here with me and I’ll watch him until Rick gets back.”

“Really? That’s so nice of you.” Relief brightened Jesse’s features. “He’s fed and newly changed, so he shouldn’t be any trouble.” She set the carrier on Savannah’s desk. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem. How old is he?” Savannah asked.

“Five months.” Jesse handed over Troy’s diaper bag. “I’ll be as quick as I can.” With a wave, she rushed off.

“We’ll be here, won’t we, baby?” Savannah talked to Troy, smiling gently. Babies liked her. She figured they had her number. She was mush in their tiny hands and they knew it.

She spent a few minutes getting acquainted before lifting the little boy from the carrier. She cuddled him and then settled him in her lap, bouncing him lightly while she went back to the numbers.

That worked for ten full seconds. Troy’s tiny fingers wrinkled the paper. She just got that away from him and he knocked her pen to the floor. Rescuing that as well, she turned him around and sat him on the desk facing her.

“You’re a busy boy. Are you trying to be like your uncle Rick and work, work, work?”

Troy grinned at her and then promptly burped up.

“Oh, baby.” She reached into his bag and pulled out a cloth to clean him up. “That’s better, but let’s see if we can get you rinsed off.”

She lifted Troy to her shoulder before setting the diaper bag in the carrier and carrying both into Rick’s office. He had a private bathroom. She set the carrier in his empty in-basket and took Troy into the bathroom to clean him up.

Rick strolled into his office after lunch and froze in shock just inside the door. A baby carrier sat in his in-basket. With a frown he glanced back at Savannah’s desk. It was empty.

What was going on? He moved to his desk, but the carrier was empty, too.

What was Savannah up to now? Babysitting no doubt. People here already had her pegged as an easy mark. Well, he’d put a stop to this. There was a limit to his patience. And babies topped the list. His brothers popped them out on a regular basis; well, their wives did, and more power to them.

Rick preferred to keep his distance. Not that he was nervous or anything, it was just that babies were complicated. You had to hold them just so, bounce them a certain way, make sure they didn’t touch things. Feed them, change them, burp them. Yes, definitely complicated.

A baby’s cry shot tension straight up his spine. There was no ignoring that wail of displeasure. A moment later Savannah walked out of his bathroom with a baby boy in her arms.

“So there is a baby here,” he said, looking from her to the boy in her arms, ready to take her to task for wasting time. Wait, the kid looked familiar. “Does it belong to one of my brothers?”

“Yes, he is your nephew, Troy.” She bounced the boy gently. “Do you think five months is too young for an apprenticeship?”

“Oh, yeah, we’ll just put a nanny on staff.” He opened his top drawer and tossed his wallet inside. “Where are Brock and Jesse?”

“Jesse is downstairs going over preliminary designs for your grandmother’s birthday gift with Rett.” She shifted the baby. “Do you want to hold him?”

“No.” He took an involuntary step back.

Savannah lifted both brows at his reaction. “No? With your large family I’d think you’d be used to kids.”

“Yeah, well, kids aren’t really my thing.”

“Really?” His answer shocked Savannah. “How can you resist such a charmer?” She turned Troy to face him. “He’s adorable. And babies are so easy to reach, all you have to do is smile and coo.”

To show him, she smiled at the five-month-old.

Troy shyly smiled back.

“See?” She glanced up at Rick and got caught in his watchful gaze.

“Pull yourself together Ms. Jones. I never coo,” he said firmly.

“Well, that’s a shame.” The baby squealed and bobbed in her arms. She felt bad for Rick, that his icy reserve prevented him from finding joy in his infant nephew. “Maybe you should try it sometime. Babies love unconditionally, you know. It’s kind of a win-win situation.”

He cocked a dark brow, reminding her silently that she was speaking to the boss.

“Right. What was I thinking?” She backpedaled a bit. She needed to leave the room before she said something she’d regret. She knew she talked too much. Her sister, Claudia, said it was Savannah’s biggest weakness and her biggest strength; she tended to say too much, but she also had the power to put people at ease.

Rick tolerated her chatter fairly well, though he rarely spoke himself. Rather he observed and directed, often without saying a word. He orchestrated her comings and goings with the crook or staying motion of a finger. For the first week she’d felt as though she danced to the tune of the puppet master. Now she appreciated the efficiency of their system.

She just wished he could connect with his nephew, who was so lovable and accepting. Maybe if he held Troy, he’d be swayed by the baby’s sweetness.

When the phone rang, she grabbed her chance.

“I should get that. Here, take Troy for just a minute.” She plopped the boy into Rick’s arms and reached for the phone, carefully keeping an eye on the pair as she spoke.

He skewered her with a glare. Though he seemed uncertain, he instinctively cradled Troy against his shoulder, looking more as if he held a fragile piece of spun glass than a living, breathing child.

Why did a single man holding a baby always look so sexy?

Of course, Rick always looked good. Her first week of work she’d had a serious talk with herself about keeping her eyes off the boss.

Yeah, right. The man was serious eye candy so that didn’t work.

But she wanted this job and that did. So yeah, her ambition helped her keep her hormones in check. That and Rick’s workaholic habits and stern demeanor.

Today none of that seemed to matter. Not when he looked so vulnerable, strong yet gentle, with the baby cuddled in his arms.

Not wanting to press her luck, she wrapped up the call. “Sorry about that.” Savannah took a step toward Rick. “I’ll just take him back—oh, baby!”

Troy burped up, all down the front of himself. And Rick.

“Sh—” Rick broke off a curse. His reflexes in holding the baby out and away had not been quite fast enough to save himself from a nasty dousing, including on his shiny black loafers.

Troy’s brow puckered up, and Savannah grabbed the wet cloth from his seat and rushed forward to clean him up before he started to cry.

“It’s okay, sweet thing, you’re fine, you’re good.” Once she had the baby all mopped up, she turned to Rick and swiped at his white shirt. After she got the worst of the mess off the front of him, she lifted her gaze and met his blue eyes, which were much closer than she had anticipated, and were focused on her with a mixture of irritation and awareness.

“Sorry, that’s the best I can do,” she said, her voice huskier than normal.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice calm and controlled, his gaze holding hers. “I think you should take him until Jesse returns.”

“Of course.” She hastily stepped forward, almost tripping over her own feet as her nerves tingled. A ring sounded through the open door and she paused. “Oh, there’s the phone on my desk.”

“Let it go to voice mail,” Rick ordered. “I need you to take Troy while I change my shirt.” Without waiting for her response, he passed the baby into her care.

The phone on her desk stopped, and his began to ring.

Even as he picked up the receiver the other hand went to the top button of his shirt. He made quick work of both the call and stripping to the waist.

Savannah swallowed hard, tempted by the sight of bronze skin and hard muscles. A taut, lean torso supported broad shoulders and narrowed to lean hips. The ocean-kayaking he did with his twin showed in the defined muscles of his arms.

“Savannah.” Her name was a buzz in her ears until he thrust the phone into her hand. “Take down the details of this conference call for me. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Of course.” She watched his strong back disappear into his private bathroom before turning her attention to the task. Easily juggling baby and receiver she jotted down the information from the manager of the San Francisco branch.

When Rick returned a few minutes later retucked and retied she pushed the memo slip into his hand and, carrying Troy, began to back toward the door.

“I’ll just go find Jesse.” She made her escape.

At the door she snuck a quick peek back. Rick sat behind his desk. Once again at work, once again in control.

The sight sent a longing through her she couldn’t explain. And couldn’t afford. Not when she still tingled from the tempting view of his hot body.

She loved her new job; the work interested and challenged her. And she’d learned a lot. But suddenly she looked forward to Rick’s upcoming trip to Europe. Thank goodness for the international deal he’d closed.

After the moment of heated awareness between them, having a full continent and an ocean dividing them for a week seemed like a really good idea.

Troy smirked at Rick over Savannah’s shoulder as if happy to have her to himself. That drew a reluctant grin out of Rick. The boy was a true Sullivan.

Savannah was another matter. Rick had never known the irrepressible Ms. Jones to be so skittish.

Why he found her quick retreat so fascinating he couldn’t say. Maybe he just liked seeing her flustered. She deserved it after tossing the baby at him and then standing so close that the sweet scent of her hair teased him even over the stink of baby burp, sending a spark of awareness streaming through his blood.

The shock of watching the gold flecks sparkle in her green eyes triggered an inappropriate physical response inside him he had no intention of acting on.

The last thing Rick wanted or needed were lascivious thoughts about his assistant. What a train wreck that would be.

Better to be annoyed than aroused by her.

The best thing would be if she quit. Hmm, he mulled the idea over. He saw two problems with that option. Gram would blame him, citing his promise, and Savannah wouldn’t be so easy to get rid of. She actually seemed to like her job.

She might talk too much, but she didn’t jump if he said a sharp word, unlike the temps before her. And she didn’t squeak at the long hours unless there was a conflict with a family event.

He understood family obligation. One of six brothers, Rick had a large, close-knit family that liked to get together on a regular basis. He participated because of Gram and because it was expected, but he often felt isolated even when he was part of the crowd. It’d been that way since he was a kid.

He loved his brothers, but he’d never found it easy to share, except with Rett, of course. That had always been enough for him. Especially after his broken engagement in college.

Losing people hurt. In his opinion, loneliness was a small price to pay for peace.

“Hey, Rick.” Jesse strolled in, her baby in her arms. “I really appreciate you and Savannah helping with Troy. Rett and I came up with some great ideas for Gram.”

“I’m glad.” They exchanged a few pleasantries as she efficiently strapped Troy into his carrier.

“I’m sorry to have to run off, but I have to get Allie from preschool,” Jesse explained.

“No problem. I’ll walk you out.” Rick saw Jesse into the elevator across the hall from his and Savannah’s offices. “See you later.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Jesse stopped the doors from closing. “Do you know your grandfather’s birthday? We need to know his birthstone for Gram’s gift.”

Rick frowned as he raked his mind. “No. Sometime in the summer, but I don’t remember when.”

“I have it,” Savannah said, and he turned to her in surprise. “It’s in Molly’s history file. There are biographies on all the past presidents, including dates of birth and dates of death.” Her fingers clicked at the keys of her computer as she talked. “Charles Sullivan was born July 23. Do you need the year?”

“No. This is wonderful.” Jesse beamed. “You’ve saved me. I thought I was going to have to pump Gram without tipping her off about the party. Can you let Rett know?”

“Sure. I’ll send it to his email.”

“Thanks. And thanks again for watching Tr—” The elevator door cut off Jesse’s words.

Blessed silence descended on the office.

Rick sighed and met Savannah’s gaze to see an understanding gleam of amusement.

“Yeah,” Savannah agreed as she went back to the papers in front of her. “You love to see them. And you love to see them go.”

“Huh.” She’d nailed it on the head.

It felt strange to have her read him so well. Strange for anyone to make the effort with him. People tended to avoid rather than interact with him. Generally that suited him fine, but the moment of connection warmed him in an odd way. Turning back to his office, he rubbed absently at his chest.

She still talked too much.

The next afternoon the ringing of the phone summoned Savannah as she approached her cubicle after a late lunch. Rushing to answer, she expected the call to be business-related but was surprised to find her sister, Claudia, on the other end. A very excited Claudia.

“Oh, my God, Savannah. I love you. I love Mrs. Sullivan. I love Rick Sullivan. I love all the Sullivans.”

“Hold on, slow down.” Still catching her breath, Savannah struggled to understand her sister’s chatter. “What are you talking about? What has Rick done?”

“I just heard that because I’m going back to Paradise Pines after I graduate, they’re going to give me a bonus scholarship to help me get settled as I start my new job. That means—”

“Wait a minute.” Savannah sat down, setting her purse on the desk. “You’re telling me the Sullivans gave you more money?”

“Yes. Savannah, I’ll be able to get my own apartment, and a new computer. And a new wardrobe. I need to thank a Sullivan. I need to thank them all. Mrs. Sullivan didn’t answer her phone so I thought of Rick. Is he in?”

“I don’t understand.” Savannah felt thick-headed, but this was so huge. “You mean even though you’ll be out of school, they’re giving you another five thousand?”

“Yes!” Claudia’s excitement reached squeal proportions, dimmed only slightly by the distance of the phone. “This is so amazing! Can you believe it?”

Yeah, Savannah could, when she got past the shock enough to take it all in. One of the things she admired most about the Sullivans—including Rick, the whole doughnut incident notwithstanding—was their generosity.

“You deserve it. You’ve worked really hard these last four years,” she told Claudia.

“I’m overwhelmed. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Rick.” Just when she had him pegged as all work and no play, Rick did this. Something so thoughtful and sweet it showed what a truly decent man he was. And she knew he was involved because Mrs. Sullivan had told her he had the final say over the scholarships.

“I do thank you. You’ve always been there for me. And of course, Rick, too. Is he there?”

Savannah glanced up at his closed door. “He’s on a conference call. But I’ll tell him you called.”

“Oh, okay. I know you’re busy so I won’t keep you. Promise you’ll give Rick a big kiss from me. Love you lots. Bye.”

“Claudia!” Savannah protested.

But her sister hung up, leaving Savannah with the image of kissing Rick. A visual she really didn’t need. After the incident with Troy yesterday it was easy, way too easy, to imagine how he’d taste, how he’d feel against her.

She’d never known a man like him, so physically fit, so stern in demeanor. All male, he made the men she’d dated seem like boys in comparison. Not that there’d been that many boys. Her high-school years had been spent caring for her mother instead of flirting.

Savannah never quite recaptured those flirty, experimental years. And, ever since, she’d felt one step behind in the game of love.

Unfortunately, Rick really made her wonder what she’d been missing.

A few minutes after Rick’s conference call wrapped up a knock sounded at his door. He looked up as Savannah peeked around the edge.

“Good, you’re free,” she said, stepping into his office. Her fitted skirt showed her legs to advantage as she made her way toward her usual chair in front of his desk.

Even then she didn’t stop. She kept coming, clear around the desk.

At the determined look in her eyes, he surged to his feet. When she leaned toward him, he leaned away. But she kept on coming, lifting onto her toes to touch her lips to his cheek. Instead of pulling away, he bent over her, breathing in the soft scent of honeysuckle.

Now why hadn’t he guessed she’d start the afternoon with a kiss?

“That’s from Claudia,” she said, now intent on avoiding his gaze as she rose on her toes again and her lips caressed his other cheek. “And that’s from me.”

Her hair brushed his cheek as she moved back. He clenched his fist to keep from pulling her closer.

“You Sullivans have been incredibly good to her. She’s over the top about the bonus money for returning to Paradise Pines.”

Ahh. Rick resisted the urge to shift restlessly as he resumed his seat. “The scholarships are my grandmother’s purview.”

“And she told me you always participate in the final decision,” she countered.

Caught, he shrugged. “Paradise Pines needs young professionals. We’re just doing what’s good for the community.”

“Claudia will be great for the community and she’d be returning to Paradise without the incentive, but thank you.” She hesitated, as if she might say something more. Or kiss him again. Instead, she nodded and turned to return to her desk.

Today she was calm, collected, with no sign of the flustered woman from yesterday.

Perfect. Cool and distant were good.

He could use a little indifference himself. Watching her long-legged retreat on red-hot heels, he fought the urge to loosen his tie, the airy room feeling suddenly overly warm.

He should be happy to be back on a professional footing, but for some reason he wasn’t.

“Savannah.”

“Yes.” She stopped at the door to look back at him, her leaf-green gaze wary.

Right. No point in embarrassing them both. Which meant no more inappropriate thoughts of Savannah, short skirts and his desktop.

He pulled a legal pad toward himself. “I’m glad your sister is happy.”

CHAPTER THREE

“YOUR DESIGN IS LOVELY.”

The next Monday after work, Savannah stood in Rett’s pristine workshop for their regularly scheduled lesson, watching as he held her sketch, turning it this way and that to view it from all angles.

“The setting will look great in gold, intertwined but independent with the classic emerald anchoring the middle. The symmetry is aesthetically beautiful. Your sister is going to love this piece,” he told her.

“Thank you.” Satisfaction and excitement made her giddy. But anxiety kept her grounded. She intended the pendant and earrings as a gift for Claudia’s graduation, so Savannah needed it to be perfect. “You don’t think it’s too ambitious?”

He hit her with amused blue eyes. “You passed ambitious when you decided to design the pieces in the first place, so don’t get wimpy on me now.”

“I’m not.” His approval of her design only made her more determined to finish the project. “But my skills are pretty new. I played around with beading when I was younger but this is the first time I’ve worked with precious gems.”

“Relax, you’re a natural. Your designs are busy enough to have interest but simple enough to have classic appeal. Plus I’ll be doing the actual gem work.”

“I know and I really appreciate it.” She smiled sheepishly at him; it was strange relying on someone else’s opinion of her work. His praise felt good, but at the same time it was hard being judged. She focused on the positive. “Someday I want to learn to facet, too.”

“Why don’t you take it one step at a time? Here, let me show you something.” He walked across his workroom and unlocked a drawer under the counter running the length of the wall. He pulled out a small, clear box and brought it over to her.

“Open it.” He placed the box in her hands.

Through the clear container she saw a brilliant green. Curious, she flipped the lid. Inside nestled a set of emerald earrings. Round cuts in an intricate swirl of yellow gold.

“This is my design!” Her gaze flew up to meet his.

He nodded. “You left your drawing on the counter last week.”

“You made my design into real jewelry?” she demanded, both surprised and proud.

“That is what we do here at Sullivans’ Jewels,” he reminded her with a smile.

“Yeah, but I’m an amateur.”

“Yes, it is, and yes, you are,” a deep voice said from the doorway. Rick wove his way around the worktables in the middle of the workshop to reach them. “You’re working with novices now?” he asked his brother in disbelief.

“We all start somewhere. But don’t worry. She’s good. See for yourself.” Rett handed Rick the earrings. Turning back to Savannah he assured her, “This is a great design, but you may want to wait to make a decision on which design you use until after we’ve had a few more lessons.”

“Good idea.” Chewing her bottom lip, she watched Rick as he inspected her work. Talk about being judged. Rett, at least, was an artist, but Rick was all business, he’d look at her work from an entirely different perspective. She told herself she respected his knowledge and his taste.

And still she held her breath.

“These are nice, very elegant. I’m impressed,” Rick said. He pinned Savannah with a pointed stare. “So this is what you two have been up to.”

Ignoring his comment, she focused on his approval: Rick’s words of praise made her feel like a diamond, valuable and brilliant.

“Why are you down here, Rick?” Rett asked, taking the earrings back.

“I received some news. The Emerson Group is pulling out of our international deal.”

“What the heck?” Rett exclaimed, his hands going to his hips in an automatic, challenging stance.

She understood his confusion. She’d heard how long and hard they’d worked on the international anniversary event and suddenly it was null and void?

“What happened?” Rett asked. “Jack Emerson seemed excited by the alliance. I can’t believe he changed his mind.”

“Jack suffered a heart attack last week. That’s why we hadn’t received the final documents. His board of directors invoked the rescission clause,” Rick said heavily.

“Oh, my God.” Savannah had talked to Emerson a couple of times; she’d liked the older man, finding his bluntness and honesty refreshing. “Is he okay?”

“He had triple bypass surgery. He’s home and doing fine, but he has some recovery ahead of him.”

“Man, I’m sorry.” Rett shook his head, showing his support with a clap on Rick’s shoulder. “You’ve worked so hard on this deal.”

Savannah knew months had gone into Rick’s plans to lease international sites for Sullivans’ Jewels. In the last ten years, he’d taken the family-owned company national by opening stores in Beverly Hills, San Francisco, Las Vegas, Dallas, Chicago and New York. To celebrate the company’s one-hundredth anniversary, he intended to take the company international. That plan might be in jeopardy now.

“Too hard to give up now,” Rick answered grimly. “I’ve gone through the notes on our alternative choices. I like Crosse International as a close second. Albert Crosse has agreed to meet with me next Tuesday. That gives us a week to regroup and put together a new plan. Savannah, I need you to pull the notes from our earlier negotiations. I want a list of our points of agreement and dispute.”

“Of course. Rick, you know I’ll work over the weekend if necessary to be ready for the meeting.”

“Thanks.” Even distracted he sent her a brief glance of appreciation. “But we’ll be traveling over the weekend. Our meeting with Crosse is in London. Since I had the trip planned, he’s offered us a suite at his London hotel. You’ll need to cancel the other reservations.”

“We?” she exclaimed.

“Yes, I’ll need you to go with me.”

“London.” Stunned, Savannah sank onto a nearby stool, pictures of Big Ben, Buckingham Palace and Westminster Abbey flowing through her mind.

“Savannah?” Rick brought her back to the moment.

Everything was moving so quickly she had to stop and clarify. “You want me to come with you to England?”

“I’ll need you there, yes.” He leaned back against the work counter, his gaze running over her. Not that he saw her; his mind was clearly on business strategy.

“I can handle the change in reservations, but I’m not sure I can get on the same flight as you.” The thought of traveling with him gave Savannah mixed feelings. A trip to Europe thrilled her. Being alone with him really didn’t.

“Then change my flight.” Rick glanced at his watch. “Can you stay? I want you working on the Crosse deal full-time. If we’re going to meet our deadline of opening the first international store by November next year, this deal has to close by the end of December.” Leading the way out of the workshop, he outlined their timeline. “That gives us two weeks to finalize the negotiations and site the European stores.”

“I’ll get started right away,” she said.

Savannah couldn’t believe her luck. Being involved in these new negotiations really gave her a chance to prove herself in the job. And it would look really good on her résumé. Not to mention the exciting trip to England.

Okay so she’d be sharing a suite with Rick. But with so much on the line, surely she could control her hormones for a week?

Thursday night Rick sat brooding in his office. He’d had one ambition when he took over as CEO of Sullivans’ Jewels: to make the family business so strong it would never be vulnerable again.

As it had been under his father’s control.

The store almost went under after his parents’ death. Gram held it together with grit and sheer determination. Rick and his brothers had helped where they could. He and Rett had only been ten, but they’d gone into the store with her on weekends. And when they got older they put in more time. He’d helped Gram while Rett hung out in the design workshop.

And when Gram announced her retirement and handed the company over to him, he’d made the hard choice to put family first. He’d sacrificed his engagement in order to stay in San Diego and take over Sullivans’ Jewels.

Maybe when they celebrated the company’s one-hundredth anniversary in their first international store, he’d feel he’d finally succeeded where good old Dad had failed.

By rescinding their offer, Emerson had cost Rick six months toward the completion of his goal. Now, in order to meet his December deadline, he needed to hit the floor running.

Savannah had really come through for him these past few days. With her help he’d restructured the package for Crosse International, including acceptable concessions for being second choice. When they touched down in England, they’d take Crosse by siege.

A knock sounded at the open door as Savannah entered the room. He watched as she strolled toward him across the office floor.

“Here are the profit and loss statements for the past two years. Accounting is still working on the amended projections for this year. I set up an appointment with the CFO for tomorrow morning.” She handed him the files then sat and crossed her legs, waiting for a response.

With determined professionalism he looked away from the tempting sight of her navy skirt inching over her knees onto her thighs.

After reviewing the documents, he tossed the file on his desk. The action startled Savannah, catching her in the middle of a yawn. Sometime during the day she’d removed her jacket, but otherwise she looked as fresh and serene as when she’d walked through the door this morning.

He winced when a glance at the clock revealed that had been close to thirteen hours ago.

The overhead light cast fiery highlights in her dark red hair, drawing his attention. She wore the mahogany mass up on her head but this late in the day escaping tendrils cascaded over her neck and brow. Maybe not so fresh after all, but sexy.

Way too sexy. And touchable.

He definitely had no business wanting to touch her.

He needed to give the woman a dress code, he thought with an inward groan, one that included oversized jackets and buttoned-up shirts. Looking at all the toned, creamy-white skin revealed by the light gold, sleeveless, scoop-necked blouse, he knew he needed to change the course of his thoughts or risk embarrassing himself.

They’d been working together since before seven this morning and it was after eight at night now. A repeat of the past two days. What he needed, what they both needed, was a break.

As if on cue, Rett strolled through the door. “You guys still working? I thought you said you had the proposal pretty much wrapped.”

Rick leaned back in his chair.

“We do. The attorney has it. We’ll get his comments in the morning and go through it one last time. I was just going to suggest we call it a night and start out fresh tomorrow.” That was good, that should end the torment of the day.

Except Rett had other ideas. “Hey, you have a fifteen-hour flight on Saturday. You’ll be begging for something to do to fill the time. Save your review for then and give Savannah tomorrow off.”

“Wait a minute,” Rick protested.

“Come on.” Rett dropped into the second visitor’s chair. “I bet she’s already put in over forty hours. With all the overtime she probably hasn’t even had a chance to pack. Have you?” He directed the question to Savannah.

“What?” Her eyes grew big as the attention centered on her. “Oh, well actually—”

“See.” Rett waved a triumphant hand. “Think about it,” he tossed at Rick. “In the meantime, why don’t I call and make reservations for the three of us for dinner. You both deserve a decent break.”

“I really should head home.” With a weary sigh Savannah rose to her feet, drawing Rick’s attention once again to her blouse, and the way sunshine clung to her breasts. Much as he strived for professional detachment, yellow had just become his new favorite color.

“No, join us,” Rett insisted. “You’ve worked hard. Let us treat you to dinner.”

She hesitated for a moment and then smiled. “Okay, you only have to ask me twice. Why don’t I meet you at the restaurant? Then I can just leave from there.”

They finalized plans and Rick insisted on walking her to her car. Then he followed her to his favorite steak house, silently cursing his brother’s interference.

Rick disliked mixing business with pleasure, and dinner with Savannah definitely blurred the edges of personal and professional. Her performance this week had surprised him; he could admit that. And despite the occasional distraction of her stunning legs or the sweet scent of her shampoo, they’d accomplished an amazing amount of work. She’d stayed calm and often anticipated him, providing reports and stats before he could ask.

Dinner should be innocent enough with Rett along.

Yeah, strictly business. In fact, he’d use dinner to discuss options on where they should open the first international store.

Unfortunately just as he reached the restaurant Rett called to say he couldn’t make it after all. Rick couldn’t help but curse.

Savannah waited just inside the door, buttoned into her jacket, her hair once again neat and tidy.

“Rett blew us off for a date, so I guess that leaves just you and me,” Rick said bluntly.

She bit her lip, drawing his attention to the plump, pink perfection of her mouth. “Maybe I should just go home. It’s been a long day.”

He should grab the offer, but the weariness in her sea-green eyes got to him. “No, stay. You have to eat and this will be better than some fast food you pick up on the way home.” Not waiting for an answer, he settled his hand in the small of her back and indicated to the maître d’ they needed a table for two.

She quickly stepped ahead of him, leaving him with a view of her gently swaying hips as he followed her to their table. Telling himself the hunger clawing at his gut was for food, he ordered a rib eye.

“I want something I can sink my teeth into,” he declared with a smile.

Rick’s words caused a fluttering in Savannah’s in-sides. She’d like to dismiss the response as a symptom of hunger, but unfortunately she was too self-aware for the flimsy excuse. Really, she should have headed straight home and avoided any chance of an intimate dinner with Rick. But the thought of having to cook after the long day—days—she’d put in held as little or less appeal than a plastic drive-through meal. And she’d thought she’d be safe with Rett along, too.

The waiter delivered their drink order. Rick placed both arms on the table and leaned forward. “I’ve pretty much narrowed the choice of location for the first store to London or Paris. I know you put together a list of properties earlier this week. What are your impressions?”

Okay, she knew the key to maintaining an emotional distance from him hinged on concentrating on work, and she appreciated being asked for her opinion. But she couldn’t take any more today. Her brain couldn’t hold another fact.

She inhaled a bracing breath, and then met his gaze. “Can we talk about something besides business?”

For a moment shock stole his voice. “What?” he managed to croak.

“My brain is fried. No more shop talk.” She outlined her rules in clear, concise terms.

Rick stared at her, clearly speechless. Yet after a moment he relaxed back into his seat and opened his hands, palms out to her. “Sure. We’ll talk about whatever you want.”

“Try to hold back your enthusiasm,” she said with a wry smile as she reached for a roll. Tearing it in half, she put the remaining half back in the bread basket.

Totally at ease in his habitual black suit and white shirt, Rick exuded elegance and class, putting most of the other men in the room to shame. The broad stretch of his shoulders and confident tilt of his dark head added to his sense of presence.

He looked good, really good. He always did, but tonight she found it hard to look away. She should be leery, especially when his gaze revealed he liked looking at her, too, but she didn’t have the energy. Instead she enjoyed the delicious tingle of excitement zipping along her nerves.

A sensation common sense promptly squashed.

She didn’t want the situation to change. She valued this job too much to risk it on the unsteady influence of romance.

“Okay.” Rick picked up the half roll, took a bite. “Where’d you learn to speak French?”

“High school. I took it instead of Spanish. And then I took an advanced class in night school. After the class ended a bunch of us would get together for dinner at a French restaurant once a month and only speak French. It helped to cement the language. Especially if others in the restaurant joined in.” She popped the last bite of roll in her mouth then licked a smudge of butter from her finger. “I sign up for classes and seminars all the time.”

“Seminars?” he asked, his interest caught. “What topics interest you?”

Lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, she said, “All kinds of things, child development, business courses, design, some self-help classes where you learn how to end clutter in your life or build up your psyche with daily affirmations. That kind of thing.”

“Ah.” He nodded in understanding. “Sounds … boring.”

His honesty surprised a laugh from her. “Some of it, yes. Some are ridiculous. Some are definitely more helpful than others. I just enjoy getting out, learning something new.”

“Like jewelry design and faceting?” he said.

“Exactly.”

The waiter arrived with their salads and to top up their water.

“Share something ridiculous,” Rick demanded as soon as the waiter left.

Ridiculous? That shouldn’t be hard. The man had a master’s degree in Business Administration; he’d probably find most of what she went for ridiculous. Actually, she knew just the thing to tickle his fancy.

“In Strengthening Your Relationships, to get into your partner’s point of view, you’re supposed to strip completely naked, lie down on the bed and imagine yourself as a man.”

“I am a man.” No hesitation. No apology.

Oh, yeah. As if she needed to be reminded of his male factor.

“You would be imagining yourself as a woman.”

His dark eyebrows spiked up. “That is ridiculous. Who thinks these things up?”

“Doctors, therapists.” She speared a bite of lettuce, dipped it in her dressing. “The point is to see, to feel, to react from the aspect of your mate.”

“Sensitivity training.” The corner of his sensual mouth curled down, indicating what he thought of the idea. “You almost make it sound interesting.”

“Thanks. I think,” she said, defiant, though in truth his comment pleased her. She liked the thought of engaging his interest. But she wasn’t sure she didn’t agree with his obvious disdain of the topic. In fact, her imagination was working overtime, putting naked, bed and man together, and not just any man, but Rick.

Heat rose in her cheeks, and she reached for her ice water to cool off.

Rick’s gaze narrowed then became intense as he slowly chewed and swallowed. “Why relationship seminars? You haven’t mentioned a man in your life.”

She wished she had a name to give him, that in truth she had a man in her life. If she were involved, Rick would be easier to resist. But there hadn’t been a man in her life in close to seven months. And then it had been more of a friendship than anything else.

She demanded a lot when it came to love. She wanted what her younger brother had found with his wife, Kathy, what her mother and father had had before her mother died and her father buried himself in work. A loving partner to spend her life with.

“I’m ready for a new relationship,” she admitted slowly.

“With a man who pretends he’s a woman?”

“No.” Amused, she shook her finger at him. “You’re trying to mess with me, but it’s not going to work. The sensitivity training was just a class. And I admit I got more out of the seminar on clutter control.” She swirled her glass on the table. “Have you tried to patch things up with Diana?”

He’d broken up with the woman just after Savannah had started at Sullivans’ Jewels. Diana had called several times over the past couple of weeks. Rick had taken the calls but they’d been very brief.

The waiter appeared, holding steaming plates of fragrant food. He stepped aside so the busboy could take the salad dishes, Rick’s empty, hers half-eaten.

“Careful, the plates are hot,” the waiter said as he set the dishes down, asked if they had everything they needed and then discreetly disappeared.

Rick frowned as he picked up his knife and fork. “It’s over. We had some good times, but she was looking to change the rules, so it was time to end it.”

“Of course, you have relationship rules.” She shook her head as she took a bite of her fish. “I’m curious, what do you have against marriage? Most of your brothers are happily married. From what I’ve heard your parents and grandparents were happily married, yet you seem to be dead-set against it. Why?”

“I’m not against marriage,” he denied. “I wish my brothers and their beautiful wives all the best. It’s just not for me.”

“Why not?” she pressed, trying to understand his position. “I’m focused on my career right now, but in the future I want a family, a partner and a couple of kids. Don’t you see that for yourself someday?”

“I have a huge family, lots of nieces and nephews. I don’t need kids of my own. My work gives me more satisfaction than any relationship I’ve ever been in.”

Although Rick was not normally a man to be pitied, Savannah felt sorry for the lonely future he outlined.

“I love my job. Thirteen-hour days notwithstanding.” She sent him a telling glance through thick lashes, and then smiled. “But I can’t see it being enough for me. I need family in my life.”

He nodded, his features expressionless as he focused on cutting his steak. “So you’d choose family over work?”

“Probably.” Time to turn the tables. “What about you?”

“I love my job, too.” Laughter brightening his blue eyes, he toasted her. “Thirteen-hour days notwithstanding.”

Appreciating his comeback, she raised her glass and clicked rims with him. Still, his evasion challenged her. He didn’t often open up like this—okay he never opened up like this—and she perversely welcomed the chance to get to know more about him.

Perversely because she knew better than to open herself to him.

“I meant, don’t you want love in your life?” she asked curiously.

“No.” He didn’t even hesitate. “I’m not getting married,” he reminded her. “Love isn’t worth the pain.”

He’d been hurt. The sharpness of his tone revealed a depth of emotion he kept carefully buried. He’d lost his parents when he was so young. She knew how tough that was, knew how every subsequent loss to the heart compounded the pain, leaving you feeling raw and exposed. Those were not emotions that would sit easily with Rick.

It saddened her to see such a strong man give up.

“I’m sorry for your pain, but love hurts because it’s important.” She gently covered his hand with her own. “It doesn’t mean you have to give up on having a family of your own.”

His openness closed down in a blink as he pulled his hand free of her touch and disappeared behind a facade of indifference.

“It’s not a loss if it’s not what you want.”

Or if you told yourself you didn’t want it so the hurting stopped. Kind of what she’d done with her dream of going to college.

“You’re right.” Common sense returned on a wave of self-preservation. Why let his attitude bother her when she had self-deceptions of her own? Suddenly uncomfortable with the topic, she sought a change. “Who started this conversation anyway?”

“You did,” he reminded her as he pushed his plate aside. “You said you wanted to settle down someday and have a family.”

“Right. Well that’s a long way in the future.” Nodding to the waiter’s offer of coffee, she dismissed the serious conversation with a careless wave of her hand. “I’m not looking for anything permanent right now.” She met his gaze over her mug. “So maybe I need to know more about those rules you were talking about.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“I’M THINKING OF GOING BACK to school for a teacher’s degree,” Savannah announced to her sister the next afternoon. When Claudia had learned Savannah was traveling to London, she’d insisted on a shopping trip to update Savannah’s wardrobe.

Claudia rounded the rack of dresses in a stylish boutique at the mall and gave Savannah a once-over and then, totally serious, nodded her head and said, “I think you’d make a really good teacher.”

“Really?” Savannah couldn’t hide her wistfulness. “You’re not just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear?”

“Dude, you know that’s not me. I don’t do pretty little lies. And in this case I don’t have to. You’re smart, patient and creative, all great traits for a teacher. I think you should go for it.”

“You don’t feel I’m too old to bother now?” Savannah asked.

“Phff. There are people of all ages at State, but if it bothers you, try online classes. These days you can practically get your degree without ever going to the classroom.” Claudia absently pushed a few hangers along the rack. “But isn’t this kind of sudden? What brought this idea on?”

“I’ve always wanted to go to college, but I didn’t really know what I wanted to study. Something Rick said last night really started me thinking. Teaching feels right. But it’s been so long since I was in school.”

“What did he say?” Of course, Claudia snagged on the Rick element.

“I was telling him about some of the seminars I’ve attended at dinner last night, and he said I made something ridiculous sound interesting.”

“At dinner you say?” Claudia wiggled her dark brows.

“Oh, stop. It was a reward for putting in a long day.”

“It sounds like you had a good time.”

“Yes. I mean, no. It wasn’t like that. And believe me, I put my foot in my mouth before I was through.” She went on to tell her sister how she’d tried to change the subject when it got too uncomfortable.

“You asked him about his dating rules?” Claudia smirked at Savannah over a rack of cocktail dresses. “How brave of you.”

“The conversation was getting heavy.” Savannah shook her head at the red mini dress Claudia held up. The color would clash with the red in her hair. “I was trying to lighten things up.”

“Right.” Claudia eyed the red dress, shrugged and draped it over her arm. The color would be stunning with her own coffee-brown hair, green eyes and pale skin.

“Ohh, look at this.” Claudia held up a black dress and the breath caught in the back of Savannah’s throat. It was fitted from the hips up, with wide bands of material that wrapped the dress, crisscrossing each other over the breasts and then flaring out to create short, off-the-shoulder sleeves. A full, flirty skirt would swirl several inches above the knee.

“It’s beautiful, but I can’t. This is a business trip. I’ll have no occasion to wear a cocktail dress.”

“You never know. It’s always good to have a little black dress along on a trip just in case. And this material will travel really well. Come on, at least try it on.”

Giving in to temptation, Savannah disappeared into the fitting room. Of course, she loved the dress. It fitted like a dream, making her feel pretty and special.

She stepped out to show Claudia.

“Oh my.” Her sister circled Savannah, practically purring. “You have to buy it. If you don’t, I’ll buy it for you, and I can’t afford it.”

Savannah did want it. “It has no sleeves. It’ll be too cold to wear in England.”

“My roommate is from New York. She has a beautiful black wool overcoat you can borrow.”

“I can’t borrow your roommate’s coat.”

“Sure you can. She never wears it unless she’s going home. Come on, Savannah, you know you want it.”

Savannah grinned. “Yeah, I do. But probably not for England.”

“Please. Wear this to dinner and Rick will forget all about his rules.”

“Oh, no. No.” She shook her finger at her sister. “He can keep his rules. I just didn’t want him thinking I was looking to get married and leave Sullivans', or that I was desperate for a man.”

Claudia laughed as she went back to shopping. “Instead he probably thinks you were hitting on him.”

“Oh, my God.” Appalled, Savannah rounded the rack and caught Claudia’s arm. “Is that what it sounded like to you?”

“Calm down.” Claudia pried Savannah’s fingers loose. “I was just kidding.”

“No, you’re right.” Weak as the events of last night replayed through her head, Savannah sank into a chair outside the fitting room. “I was trying for light and sophisticated, but it sounded like a proposition.” She mimicked a stab to the heart. “Just kill me now.”

“Such drama. That’s more me than you.” Claudia squeezed Savannah’s shoulder. “Sister mine, I love you, but we both know the flirting gene skipped you.”

Tragic, but true. Still Savannah shook her head. “He doesn’t know that.”

“Okay, so what did he say? What are these famous rules?”

“He didn’t answer. The waiter came with the check and the moment was lost. And that was the end of dinner.”

“He just left?” The notion clearly outraged her younger sister, who’d been wrapping men around her little finger since infancy. Even their father responded to Claudia. Of course she was the shining image of their mother, which helped.

“No. Rick is too much of a gentleman to do that. He walked me to my car. Oh, gosh, and then told me I could have today off and he’d see me at the airport. Oh, this is bad. First the kiss and now I’ve propositioned him. I’ll probably get home and find a message telling me I’ve been traded with Tammy from accounting.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop right there.” Claudia dropped to the floor to sit cross-legged in front of Savannah. “You never mentioned a kiss. Spill! I want all the details.”

Heat rose in a tide from Savannah’s chest to her hairline. “It’s your fault. You told me to thank him for the extra money from the scholarship.”

“You actually kissed him?” Claudia demanded. “On the mouth?“

Savannah blinked at her. “Of course not, on the cheek, but you’re missing the point here.”

“Right, right. I see the problem. In the last two days you’ve kissed him and hit on him.”

Savannah groaned. “That’s it. I’ve cost myself the perfect job. And a trip to Europe.”

“He’s really got you twisted up. I’ve never seen you so flustered over a man.”

“He’s not a man. He’s my boss.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Claudia admonished her. “He’s all man and if you’re trying to ignore that, no wonder you’re in trouble.”

“You’re not helping,” Savannah said.

“Helping? Right, you want to know if he realized you were hitting on him.”

Savannah gritted her teeth.

“Hmm.” Claudia tapped her lip while she thought. “Did he revert back to business?”

“No.” Savannah perked up, seeing where her sister was going. Work would be an instinctive barrier for Rick to throw between them if he felt she’d gotten too familiar. “He asked how the plans were going for his grandmother’s birthday. That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, I think you’re safe. He’d have played the work card if he wanted to shut you down. He probably just didn’t want to talk about his love life.”

“There’s no love in his relationships.” With a relieved breath Savannah pushed to her feet, helped Claudia to hers. “That’s what the rules are about.”

“Another reason for him not to answer you. Nobody that knows you could see you in a loveless relationship.”

Savannah’s plan as she strapped herself into her business-class seat on the airplane was to act as if it were business as usual when Rick arrived. No talk of rules or relationships. Or anything else. She’d guard her tongue if she had to bite it off.

This was one time when his lack of talking would be welcome.

Where was he anyway? She leaned over the aisle seat to glance up the companionway but there was no sign of her stalwart boss. She’d been surprised when he wasn’t waiting for her in the departure area, but as the boarding passengers began to dwindle, she began to worry.

There shouldn’t be any traffic at this time of night. They were taking the red-eye to New York and would catch an international flight out of JFK in the morning.

Frowning, she looked at her watch. Oh, God, what if he didn’t show? Did she fly or get off the plane?

Just as she reached to ring the flight attendant to ask if he’d checked in, he strolled through the door.

And— oh my.

Rick in a business suit was controlled elegance, a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it. Rick in jeans and a navy T-shirt was big and broad and just a little rough around the edges, a man who took what he wanted and enjoyed the challenge.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him the whole time he stowed his gear and took his seat.

When he met her stare with his take-no-prisoners blue eyes, she blurted, “I was about to flip a coin to see if I should fly without you or get off the plane.”

He didn’t apologize, simply said, “Rett drove me to the airport.”

“Oh. And he was late?”

“He wouldn’t think so.” Rick grimly stated what sounded like an age-old argument between the brothers. He tucked a newspaper in the seat back in front of him. “Rett and I have a difference of opinion about how much lead time you need when you’re flying.”

“Why do you let him drive you then?”

“As he pointed out, I haven’t missed a plane yet.”

“Well, this wasn’t the one to start with,” she informed him, still a little on edge at the close call, a feeling that nudged up a few notches when the plane door closed.

“Settle down, Ms. Jones. I’m here safe and sound.”

“Let’s hope you stay that way,” she muttered under her breath.

“What does that mean?” Of course he’d heard her.

“Nothing,” she evaded, her attention focused out the window at the city lights as the plane began to roll.

Now Rick had arrived, there was nothing to distract her from the fact she’d soon be taking to the air in a very heavy object. Biting on her lower lip, she reminded herself thousands of people flew across the country every day.

Suddenly a strong, warm hand closed over hers on the armrest, stilling her tapping fingers.

She followed the reverse angle from hand to hair-dusted forearm, to muscular biceps, to strong neck, stubborn chin and eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Don’t tell me you’re a nervous flyer,” he accused.

“I don’t know.” She pulled her hand free. “This is my first time flying. I’m sure I’ll be fine, but right at the moment, yes, I’m a little nervous.”

“Huh.” The suspicion backed down to mild irritation. “Don’t you have a Valium or something you can take?”

Now that was just rude.

“I don’t need to be medicated. I need a distraction.” She almost changed her mind about that as the plane picked up speed rushing down the runway and she felt the wheels lift.

Okay, oblivion may not be such a bad thing.

She cleared her throat and concentrated on the conversation. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to jump into your lap or anything.”

“That’s good to know,” he said as he dug her nails out of his arm.

“Sorry.” She smiled weakly, and, reclaiming her hand, she sought her own distraction in her carry-on. The first thing she pulled out was a plastic zip bag of home-baked chocolate chip cookies—nothing distracted or soothed as well as chocolate—and the second thing was the newest novel by one of her favorite authors. Rick had his paper so she didn’t need to feel bad about reading her book. And once she started reading, she’d get caught up in the characters, mystery and romance.

After tucking her tote back under the seat in front of her, she dug out a chocolate chip cookie. Taking a healthy bite, she settled back in her seat and sighed, feeling the tension leave her body as she chewed.

Next to her she heard Rick sniff the air. From the corner of her eye she saw him slowly turn in her direction.

“Are those chocolate chip cookies?”

“Yes. But you wouldn’t hold my hand so you can’t have any.”

“A tad cranky tonight, aren’t you?”

“It’s the nerves. I want to fix it, but I just have to get through it.” Because she wasn’t mean, she turned the open bag of cookies toward him. “Peace offering?”

He took a cookie. “You still can’t jump in my lap.”

She grinned. “Spoilsport.”

“But I suppose I can sacrifice a hand occasionally if you feel the need.”

Her insides warmed at the offer, evidence the grouch did have a heart. But, oh, not good. Warm feelings for Rick were too much of a distraction. She’d better stick to the chocolate.

“Thanks.” She held up a second cookie. “But I’m feeling better already.”

“Good. Because it’s a long flight. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?” He licked a smear of chocolate off his finger, a sensuous move she followed with her eyes.

This relaxed Rick fascinated her, which made him very dangerous indeed.

“Savannah?”

“Huh?”

“Do you think you’ll sleep?” he repeated.

“Oh. Eventually. I can sleep anywhere.” She zipped the bag of cookies and tucked it in the seat back in front of her. “How about you?”

“I’ll doze.”

“Maybe you need the Valium.”

He laughed. A hearty sound she realized she’d not heard from him before.

How sad, she’d worked closely with the man for close to two months and had never heard him laugh. She immediately wanted to make him laugh again. He really needed lightness in his life, but this was another thing she couldn’t fix, not without putting herself on the line emotionally, something she couldn’t risk. And it didn’t even have to do with the job.

She couldn’t risk opening her heart to a man obsessed with work.

The loneliness, the lack of support, the disappointments—she wouldn’t, couldn’t go through that again.

So, instead of continuing the conversation and coaxing another laugh from him, she said, “Do you mind if I read for a while? I think it’ll relax me.”

The laughter faded from his eyes and he shook his head. “Go ahead. Will it bother you if I work?”

“Not at all.”

With a curious sense of letdown, she lowered her tray table and opened the hardback to page one. Luckily, the characters soon drew her into the action and before long she was caught up. Flying, Rick, the sound of him typing all faded to the background as she outright giggled at what she was reading.

Rick couldn’t sleep. Not with the soft scent of honeysuckle tickling his senses, a constant reminder of the woman occupying his companion seat.

At least she finally slept. She’d read for a while, and had a great time of it, too, if the musical sound of her laughter was any indication.

He glanced at the book, wondering again what she found so amusing. Since she appeared dead to the world, he reached for the book and read the front blurb—and then the first page.

An enjoyable hour had passed when he next looked at his watch. Stifling a yawn, he returned the book to where she’d had it stowed.

To stretch his legs he walked to the restroom at the far end of the plane. When he got back, he stood looking down on Savannah.

She sat half-turned toward him, a hand tucked under her cheek, so young, so sweet, so lovely. Cinnamon curls caressed creamy-white skin while dark lashes fanned over her cheeks. She shifted in her sleep and a pretty pink tongue swept over full, bare lips leaving them damp and as inviting as the smudge of chocolate above the corner of her mouth.

Fatigue must be getting to him because he wanted to lick her, first to eat the chocolate beckoning to him and next to taste the plump line of her lips, to sink inside and share the treat with her.

What on earth?

He rubbed his eyes. Pull it together, man.

To escape further temptation he slid into his seat and stared at the boring weave of the blue-and-gray fabric of the seat in front of him.

What had possessed him to bring her on this trip? He’d have been better off with someone from legal, someone fifty and comfortably thick.

Okay, so she’d been a great help prepping for the upcoming meeting, but she was still more optimistic than organized, totally unpredictable and distressingly unafraid of anything. A little healthy trepidation would make her so much easier to control.

She had yet to meet a stranger. The woman made friends wherever she went.

When was the last time a woman had made him laugh? He couldn’t remember. More importantly, when had he become such a staid old man? So he cared about the business, cared about providing for his family. Did that have to mean he gave up on fun, gave up chasing all the enjoyable pursuits life had to offer?

Of course not. He determined to broaden his horizons when he got back. Spend more time with his brothers, read for pleasure and find a new woman friend.

Right. He closed his eyes and hoped by the time he got home—with the international deal sealed—the idea would hold more appeal.

The plane suddenly shook and then dropped, startling Rick out of a light doze. Instinctively, he grabbed the armrest before he even opened his eyes. His fingers closed around flesh and bone rather than hard plastic.

Savannah. Concerned, he glanced her way. She slept on but a slight furrow creased the fine porcelain of her brow. He pulled his hand back, granting her use of the armrest. She immediately became restless and the frown deepened.

He covered her hand again, twining his fingers with hers and she stilled and settled back into slumber.

She was as soft as he’d known she would be. Not that he allowed himself thoughts of her.

Another shake, a lift and then a sharp drop. Someone screamed and Savannah came awake with a start. She blinked at him.

“What happened?” Husky from sleep, her voice stroked along fine nerves, causing the hair on the back of his neck to tingle in aroused awareness.

“Just a little turbulence.”

“So I didn’t dream a scream or that the plane was shaking?”

“Ladies and gentlemen.” A calm voice came over the public-announcement system. “We are experiencing some heavy turbulence and the pilot has turned on the seat-belt light. Please remain buckled in your seats until he turns off the seat-belt light. Thank you.”

Savannah’s trembling fingers tightened on his. “Are we going to be okay?”

“I’ve heard no plane has ever gone down because of turbulence.”

“Really?”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” he said reassuringly.

“Right. Oh, gosh.” They were thrown back in their seats as the aircraft dipped and swayed.

“It shouldn’t last long.” He sought to relieve her distress. “The pilot will try to get either above or below the problem area.”

“That would be good.” Her agitation showed in the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. “That would be really good.”

She fell silent as the plane continued to rock and roll. And he watched her to make sure she didn’t hyperventilate. White knuckles defined the clasp of their hands, but neither fought to ease the hold one had on the other. He didn’t expect the plane to crash, but he wouldn’t deny he took comfort from the connection.

The flight evened out for about ten minutes, just long enough for everyone to begin to relax, when the shaking began again.

The drastic drop in altitude got to him, but the distressed whimper from the seat next to him was like a fist to the gut. Acting on impulse, he lifted the armrest between them and pulled her into his arms.

She clung to him and, lifting tearful eyes to his, pleaded, “Can’t you make it stop?”

In that moment he’d give anything to fix it, to bring the laughter back to her eyes. He couldn’t stop the turbulence, but perhaps he could take her mind off it.

“You have some chocolate on your face.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

“Right here.” He lowered his head and licked the corner of her mouth, sweeping the chocolate up with a flick of his tongue.

CHAPTER FIVE

SAVANNAH FELT AS IF the plane had done a loop-the-loop, turning her world upside down. She went still as Rick’s mouth teased her, his tongue swirling over her skin.

Snug in the warm clasp of his arms, her existence narrowed to just the two of them. Strong and solid, he made her feel safe, protected. The scent of him, familiar and all male, surrounded her. And she wanted more of him; she wanted that mobile mouth on hers. But he continued to flick and nibble at the edge of her lips, close but not close enough.

With a low growl of need she turned her head and found his mouth with hers. Yum.

As if he’d been waiting for just that, he opened his mouth over hers and took control of the kiss, plundering her mouth with deft finesse, stealing her ability to think.

Sensation took over. Chocolate, hot and sweet, exploded over her tastebuds. She hummed with approval and met his tongue in a passionate tango of thrust and retreat. He lifted her, half pulling her into his lap, only her seat belt hampering him from completing the action.

Oh, better. Looping her arms around his neck, she threaded her fingers through his short, mink-soft hair, holding him to her, drawing his essence in and giving herself back.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the pilot has turned off the seat-belt sign. You are now free to move about the cabin.”

The announcement washed over them like a bucket of cold water. They broke apart, and Savannah buried her face against Rick’s chest.

The world came rushing back—the plane, other passengers, the near-death experience. For a while none of it had mattered; now it all did.

She bit back a groan as her brain reengaged and she realized where she was. In the boss’s arms. This was not good, not good at all. It helped only slightly that Rick’s heartbeat matched the racing pace of her own.

How to extricate herself?

“Restroom.” She fumbled for her seat belt. “I’ve got to go.” Once she found the release, she bolted to her feet and escaped down the aisle. Luckily, there was a line of people waiting. Maybe it would last until they reached New York.

Five people and two hours to kill? Not even she was that optimistic. Which meant she’d have to sit next to him with the blood still speeding way too fast through her system. Thank goodness her jacket hid the aroused state of her nipples because if it was cold in here, she didn’t feel it.

All too soon she was sitting in her seat again, her jacket wrapped around her, staring at the gray hair of the man seated in front of her while Rick focused his attention on the ceiling.

Not comfortable with being uncomfortable, she said, “Thank you. I was scared and you … helped me. It was very kind of you.”

He made a choking sound. “Don’t mention it. Please.”

“I wasn’t propositioning you.”

He turned his head slowly and pinned her with an intense stare. “What are you going on about now?”

“The other night at dinner when I asked about your dating rules. I wasn’t propositioning you.” She cleared her throat and dropped her eyes. “In case you think I’ve been throwing myself at you.”

“I didn’t.” He went back to his contemplation of the ceiling. “I don’t.”

Instead of reassuring Savannah, his simple dismissal struck a contrary chord. It wasn’t as if there was no chemistry between them. The last few minutes had proved that conclusively.

“Well, all right then.” She let silence fall between them, telling herself she should be glad to have that worry gone. But she couldn’t help herself. “Why not?”

Her pique must have sounded in her voice because he sighed.

“I know when I’m being propositioned. And flirting isn’t your style. You’re too straightforward.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me the rules?”

“Because there isn’t a hope in hell you’d ever abide by them.”

“I don’t know how you can know that,” she retorted, stung.

“The rules are about establishing personal boundaries to prevent expectations of a deeper relationship from forming. You have personal relationships with everyone.”

“Not everyone.”

“Everyone,” he insisted. “Including the mail boy.”

“He goes to State, which is where my sister attends college. So yeah, we’ve chatted a few times.”

“What’s his girlfriend’s name?”

“Amber.”

“I rest my case.”

“That only proves I’m a good listener.”

“I’ve worked with Molly for twelve years and I don’t even know her daughter’s name.”

“Oh. Well.” His confession stunned her so she had no argument for him. “What was your point again?”

“That my rules aren’t meant for you.”

For a moment it sounded as if he meant that his rules didn’t apply to her, and a wild rush of pleasure bloomed in her. She quickly squashed it, first because she knew how he intended what he’d said, and second because he wasn’t for her.

Anyone who worked with someone for twelve years and didn’t know something as intimate as her daughter’s name was too impersonal for Savannah.

She could never be with someone who believed that work was more important than people. And that described Rick to a T.

“You’re right,” she conceded. “Your rules aren’t for me.”

To Savannah’s relief the trip concluded without further incident and they arrived in London exhausted but ready for the upcoming meeting. After spending fifteen hours practically joined at the thigh with Rick, she was ready to retreat to her own room.

“Beautiful hotel,” she commented on the way to the elevator, admiring the large leather furnishings and dark woods amidst marble and crystal. “I see now why you were drawn to Crosse International.”

“What do you mean?” he asked as they boarded the elevator.

“The ambience. A modern feel in a traditional setting. You know, kind of a comfortable chic.”

Rick simply nodded and she wondered if he was even listening. Except for business, he’d kept conversation between them to a minimum ever since the embrace on the flight to New York.

Savannah closed her eyes and sighed at the thought of stretching out in a bed. She was so ready for some alone time.

“It reminds me of the store back home,” she muttered.

“What does? “Rick held the elevator door for her to exit.

“The hotel. Oh, we’re right here.” Savannah had never been so happy to reach a destination. She slid her key card into the slot. “See you in the morning.”

As she closed her bedroom door, she almost had herself convinced she was pleased by his impersonal attitude.

Almost.

So call her crazy. She wanted to have her cake and to eat it, too. Working so closely with Rick these last few days had twisted her emotions in a knot. His drive and dedication challenged her while his intelligence and dry sense of humor made the long hours speed by.

Not to mention every little touch tested her ability to remain unaffected, from the accidental brush of skin against skin to the warmth of his breath on her cheek as they bent over the proposed contract.

All in all, her feelings for him weren’t as easy to ignore as she’d hoped. And the awareness growing between them buzzed like static in the air.

But if he could pretend indifference to the passionate kiss they’d shared, so could she.

Right.

Savannah slept like the dead, waking only when her alarm went off. She showered and dressed in her navy suit with the gold scoop-neck blouse. She wanted to look good and the outfit made her feel confident and professional.

When she entered the parlor suite connecting her room to Rick’s, she found him already sitting at the dining table reading the paper. He’d ordered coffee along with an array of muffins, yogurt and fruit.

“Good morning,” he greeted her, his glance up from the paper slightly leery as if he feared what she might say, or perhaps it was that she might start chattering.

He needn’t worry; she liked to ease her way into the day. After helping herself to coffee and fruit, she took a discarded section of his paper and enjoyed the quiet and the view.

Having the meeting with Crosse in the hotel was convenient, allowing them to leave their room at ten to ten and simply ride the elevator down. But that was the end of her peaceful morning.

The meeting was the crash and burn they had narrowly missed the day before, or it would be if Savannah didn’t act fast.

True to form, Rick masterfully presented the numbers and projections, but his confidence and all-business approach came across as arrogant. Albert Crosse, a fit man in his early sixties, flanked by his two sons, listened but seemed restless. And the more Rick pushed, the further apart the two got.

She tried to catch Rick’s eye more than once, but he ignored her, so she took matters into her own hands.

“Mr. Crosse.” She spoke into a tense silence. “I was wondering which property you would suggest for the joint venture? “

Rick shot her a repressive glance. “Ms. Jones, this isn’t the time—”

“Please.” Crosse waved Rick off. “I don’t mind, though you must remember to call me Albert.”

“Of course, Albert.”

Short and compact, Crosse exuded a charm and charisma that exceeded his stature. His presence demanded attention, and, though his sons were present, it was obvious Crosse ruled.

He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. “Actually, I believe this property would be spot-on for your purposes. This location runs at seventy-five percent or more capacity for most of the year. We’ve already converted first-level offices into retail space and have leases with a full-service day spa and a coffeehouse. There are two more spaces available.”

Perfect. This was better than she’d hoped for when she’d taken the discussion off topic. A field trip would change the current dynamic and, she hoped, get the negotiations flowing again.

“Gracious, right here in the hotel? Can we go see the space? After the long flight yesterday and sitting most of the morning I’m a bit stiff and would welcome a chance to stretch my legs.”

“Ms. Jones—”

Savannah turned so only Rick could see her and silently mouthed, “We’re losing him.” Aloud, she said, “I know we have an appointment with the property manager later, but I’m sure Albert will be an excellent guide.”

“Splendid idea. It would be my pleasure.” Crosse talked right over Rick’s objections. “I’ll have the property manager meet us there. I was scheduled to inspect the conversions today, but agreed to take this meeting instead.”

“Will we have an opportunity to finish our meeting?” Rick asked as everyone stood.

“I have some thinking to do tonight,” Crosse advised him stiffly. “I’ll have my assistant call you with a time for tomorrow.”

When they reached the lobby, Crosse stopped to talk briefly with his sons who were taking this opportunity to break away.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rick demanded, pulling Savannah aside.

“We were losing him.” She moved to watch the Crosses so Albert couldn’t walk up on their conversation. “We needed a distraction.”

“That’s ludicrous.” He dismissed her claim. “This is a solid proposition.”

“Yes, but he was already sold on the numbers—you sold him on those before. And then you chose to go with someone else. Now he’s wondering what’s to keep you from jumping again if a better deal comes along.”

“Sullivans’ Jewels has a solid reputation. And we made concessions.”

“On paper.” How could such a brilliant man be so dense? “You are an exceptional business strategist, but in this instance you need to read the man. It’s a matter of loyalty, of pride. Think how you’d feel if the situation were reversed.”

He frowned, but she’d caught his attention. Seeing Crosse’s conversation was breaking up, she stepped closer to Rick and lowered her voice. “You said I relate to everyone. Well, trust me on this. Let him know he can trust you.” Hooking her arm through his, she turned him toward Crosse. “And when we tour the space, don’t bring up the deal. Business is fine but stay away from anything personal. Connect with him on another level.”

She felt him stiffen before pulling away. “I think I know how to conduct myself with a business colleague.”

“Of course.” She stepped away, feeling awkward. What had she been thinking linking arms with him like that? She was his assistant, not his girlfriend. “Sorry. Go do your magic.”

Rick hated to admit it, but Savannah was right.

A good thing for her, because if she’d blown this deal she’d be gone, promise to Gram or no promise.

He’d known Crosse was antsy. Yet, instead of stopping to think it through and adapt to the situation, he’d let the man’s stoic response cause him to push harder.

Rick didn’t like being in this position. He was used to being the one making decisions, not the one waiting for the nod.

But more importantly, Savannah had hit the biggest issue on the mark. If the situation were reversed he’d want more than facts and figures thrown at him. Despite any concessions tossed his way, he’d want to know Sullivans’ Jewels was more than a second choice. After all, they weren’t just talking about the lease of space; they were talking about partnering brands to broaden their demographics.

The insight made him stop and question himself. Had his goal become more important than the process? Was he rushing his decisions to meet his self-imposed deadline? If that were the case, he needed to stop now and reassess.

He kept his mind open to the possibilities as they toured the space with Crosse. His first impression was of the size. It was smaller than any of their other stores. But the prime location, right on the lobby, and accessibility to the old vault one story down were strong factors in its favor.

Because he agreed with the strategy, he heeded Savannah’s advice to avoid talk of the proposal except for renovations and contractors in general because Crosse brought them up. By the time they completed the tour, including visits to the spa and coffee store, he’d made a decision. The process and the goal were both right-on.

“Albert, thank you for your time.” He shook Crosse’s hand. “They say all things happen for a reason and in this case I need to agree. I originally went with Emerson because I thought their traditional image was a closer match for Sullivans’ Jewels. After staying here and talking with you and your sons, I see I was wrong.

“We’re both family-owned and family-run companies. And our styles are very similar—'comfortable chic,’ Savannah called it last night.”

With nothing to lose, Rick spoke from the heart. “I know you’re hesitant about going forward with the project, but I hope you decide in our favor. The fact is we fit very well indeed. And I’m excited about the prospect of working together. I think I can learn a lot from you.”

“Hmm.” Albert stood with his arms crossed, nodding. They were totally mixed signals: one said he was closed off, the other that he was listening. He turned to Savannah, who had drifted to the background during the tour. She’d asked a few questions but had mostly followed quietly as the men wandered and talked.

“Beautiful lady, what am I to make of this bloke? Upstairs he is cold and calculating, so serious with the numbers. But down here he comes alive, and shows passion and heart. Which is the true man?” Albert asked.

Savannah smiled. “Both, of course. Upstairs he’s looking forward to what could be. He knows his business and the numbers tell of the possibilities. Here—” she spread her arms to indicate the vacant space they’d returned to “—it becomes real. He can see his store, feel it, breathe it. And, yes, he’s serious about his business. He is the heart of Sullivans’ Jewels.”

Crosse angled his head at Rick. “Beautiful and loyal. You are lucky, Rick, to have someone who believes in you so strongly.”

“Yes.” Truthfully her response had surprised Rick. He knew he’d been tough on her from the beginning, yet she’d nailed him with that comment. He found it more than a little disconcerting.

“I have much to think about,” Albert stated. “I’ll have my assistant contact you regarding a time when we can meet tomorrow.”

“Is it all right if we view the other London properties as time allows?” Rick requested.

“I see no harm in that,” Crosse agreed.

Rick inclined his head. “We’ll be waiting for your call.”

Happy to be out of the snow and cold, Savannah crawled into the back of a taxi, scooting over to allow room for Rick. As she settled into the worn leather seat, her relief at being out of the weather shattered as her hand came to rest against Rick’s muscular thigh on the bench seat.

Immediately the heat of his body warmed the backs of her icy fingers. For the thousandth time that day she rued forgetting her gloves at home.

Rick’s head whipped around. It took every ounce of poise she possessed to meet the awareness in his blue gaze with a semblance of calm professionalism.

Unfair. Unfair. What a cosmic joke if she had to fight him as well as herself to keep their relationship on a business level.

She racked her mind for something to distract his attention from her. A street sign caught her attention. “Buckingham Palace. It must be close, can we drive by?”

He looked over his shoulder at her with lifted brows, but he leaned forward and spoke to the driver.

“Thank you.” She’d seen some lovely sights as they made their way through town to the Crosse properties—St. Paul’s Cathedral, the Millennium Bridge. Seen but not experienced.

“I know we’re here on business, but please tell me we’ll get some free time to actually visit some of these beautiful sights.”

She saw him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “I suppose you deserve something for your interference today,” Rick conceded. “You were right about Crosse. He needed reassurance. You saw that and quite possibly saved the deal.”

“I hope so.” She shifted so she faced him. Watched as he lifted a hand to smother a yawn. The muscles in his throat worked and her mouth watered. “I liked Crosse.”

“He liked you, too.” That was the second time in two days he’d said a man liked her. Knowing she shouldn’t go there, she couldn’t prevent the question from popping out.

“Do you?” she asked.

“Yes. I was being honest with him. I really do think I can learn from him.”

“No,” she corrected, “do you like me?“

His profile froze before he slowly turned and shot her a harassed glare. “What do you mean?”

“Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” What was she thinking asking such a personal question? Other than that somehow his answer mattered a great deal to her.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, genuine puzzlement in his tone. “Everyone likes you.”

“So you seem to think.” Stop this now, she pleaded with herself. But she didn’t care about everyone; she cared about him. “But what about you? I know you think I talk too much.”

“You do,” he said with casual ease. “But I’m getting used to it. I even learn things, like ‘comfortable chic.’”

She grinned. His announcement had both surprised and pleased her. “I noticed how you used that.” And how he’d skipped over her question.

“I meant what I said. You changed the direction of the meeting today. Thank you.”

“I’m sure you would have noticed before it was too late.”

“Don’t start lying to me now, Savannah. I like to think I would have caught on eventually, but you don’t think so or you wouldn’t have interrupted.”

“Well, you were overexcited—”

He laughed. “Now that’s something I’ve never been accused of before.”

“It’s not a bad thing. And you’re entitled. Oh look, it’s the guards with the bearskin hats. And, oh, the palace.”

The view was out Rick’s window and she had to lean forward and toward him to catch sight of the grand palace. Even in her excitement she noticed how good he smelled, clean with a hint of spice. It made her want to snuggle close, and she’d already practically climbed in his lap in order to see better.

“Savannah.” He ground out the throaty protest.

And, of course, he was right. The one time under extreme conditions on the plane could be excused; twice and it was getting to be a bad habit.

“Sorry.” She eased back into her own space and lost all sight of the palace. “Driver, please stop,” she called.

“What are you doing?” Rick demanded.

“I’m getting out. I can’t come to London and not see the palace. I’ll find my own way back.”

“It’s freezing out there. Literally.”

“I’ll be fine. I may even find a shop to buy some gloves.”

She reached for her purse and when she looked up she saw an odd flash of emotion cross Rick’s face. The vulnerability in his hooded gaze stunned her, brought a lump to her throat. For a moment, the strong, confident man looked lonely.

“You should come with me,” she heard herself say. “We can find a pub and have some fish and chips.”

He hesitated, then surprised her by nodding. “Sure. I could eat.”

CHAPTER SIX

AS A DISTRACTION, Buckingham Palace ranked right up there with chocolate and shopping in Savannah’s estimation. In fact, having a studly companion as she strolled the block fronting the majestic building and grounds didn’t suck either.

The snow-drenched grounds were well-lit, as was the massive building with majestic columns and row upon row of windows. And, of course, the beautiful Nash statue of Queen Victoria. It was awe-inspiring to consider the longevity and history incorporated in this palace. She definitely needed to come back for a tour.

“Thanks,” she said to Rick, blowing on her hands to warm them as the cold finally drove her to leave. “Ready for the fish and chips now?”

“You bet.” Rick stopped a local to ask after a good pub, and minutes later they were seated at a scarred wooden table in a room crowded with tables and people. Soccer and rugby equipment along with player jerseys lined the walls while a rugby game played on several mounted TVs. In a back room a rowdy group erupted with cheers and groans.

“Dart tournament tonight, folks,” a dark-haired waitress said as she stopped by the table. In her mid-forties, she was comfortably lush in a green T-shirt and blue jeans. “It’ll be pretty loud.”

“It’s perfect.” Savannah grinned at her. “I flat-out confess to being a tourist, so it’s all part of the experience for me.”

“Aye, and my guess is you’ll be wanting some fish and chips and a pint. Where do you come to us from?”

“San Diego.” Savannah rubbed her hands together. “Where it’s much warmer this time of year. And yes, I’m going to be totally typical and get the fish and chips. And what the heck, I’ll try the pint, too.”

“You got it, doll. I’ll bring you something pale.” She turned her attention to Rick. Friendly when she spoke to Savannah, her gaze turned downright predatory as it ran over his body. “How about you, sweet thing?”

Savannah hid a smile behind her hand as red color flooded his cheeks.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll have the same.”

“Aye, and I’ll bring you something dark.” She shifted closer to him with a roll of well-rounded hips. “You look man enough to handle it.”

With a lingering backward glance she disappeared into the crowd.

“Oh, she likes you,” Savannah teased him. “Just let me know if you need me to make myself scarce.”

“That woman just ate me alive with her eyes.” He shook his finger at Savannah. “Under no circumstances are you to leave me alone with that cougar.”

“Cougar?” She laughed. “Oh my, does she scare you?”

“I’m an intelligent man, so hell yeah.”

She grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect your virtue—or should I say manhood? I mean really, what if we were a couple?”

He pinned her with an intent stare. “Sweetheart, for the next hour, we are.”

“What? You don’t think she’d play by your rules?” How dangerous to play with him like this, but she couldn’t resist.

“The rules are there so no one gets hurt.” He defended his system with a flick of his eyes toward the bar and the woman under discussion. “She doesn’t look like she’s afraid of pain.”

“It hurts so good?” she teased provocatively.

His gaze flashed back to her. “You’re shocking me, Ms. Jones.”

Yeah, she’d rather shocked herself. “You brought it up. Besides, I’m not as innocent as you seem to think.”

“Sure you are,” he assured her, certainty clear as crystal in his tone, “and it has nothing to do with how many lovers you’ve had. You’re caring and giving. Genuine. You bring everyone around you to a higher level.”

“Wow,” she breathed, inordinately pleased by his assessment. She knew she got on his nerves sometimes and she was nowhere near his intellectual equal, so his comment touched her deeply. About to gush, she pulled herself back. He’d hate that. Instead she blessed him with a cheeky smile. “So you do like me.”

He grinned and shook his head. “Sometimes.”

“Uh-uh, be nice. Here comes the waitress with our food.”

He lifted one dark brow. “Maybe you’re not so innocent after all. You’ve got a mean streak.”

“Oh, I bet I’m just a kitten next to the cougar.”

“Just stay close.”

“I will, I promise.” She scooted back her chair. “As soon as I get back from the restroom.”

“What?” he demanded in mock outrage. “Some friend you are.”

“Come on, we both know you can handle her. Be right back.”

She made quick work of her trip to the bathroom, not because she was worried about Rick—he could take care of himself. But she was having fun and didn’t want to miss a minute of the adventure.

Over fish and chips they got involved in the rugby game, she rooting for Ireland while he cheered for Wales. The dart tournament got louder still, the waitress flirted some more and Savannah had a ball.

The game ended and they donned their coats and walked down the street toward Buckingham Palace to catch a cab. It amazed her that some of the shops were still open, but when she glanced at her watch it was only seven.

“Wait. In here.” Rick caught her hand. Startled by the searing touch she stopped in her tracks. He pulled her toward a leather and coat shop. “We can get you some gloves.”

“Oh, no,” She held back. “I’ll find some closer to the hotel.”

“Come on. Let’s at least see what they have.” He opened the door and ushered her inside.

The rich scent of leather pleasantly filled the small store. Savannah reluctantly followed Rick to the accessory section where he selected several pairs for her to try on. She did so, marveling at the suppleness and warmth. She particularly enjoyed a pair made of leather with a fleece lining; the quality and fit were exquisite. They were so soft, so warm she didn’t want to take them off. But she must.

“Those are a nice fit,” Rick said.

“Yes.” A little sad, a little embarrassed, she pulled them off. “Rick, it’s so nice of you to stop here, but, really, I can’t afford these.”

“But you like them?”

“Of course.” She placed them back on the rack. “But that’s not the point.”

“It’s exactly the point.” He retrieved the gloves and handed them to the hovering clerk along with a pair of men’s gloves. “We’ll take both.”

“Rick, no,” Savannah protested. “I can’t get these.”

“You’re not. I’m getting them.”

Touched, she still shook her head. “I can’t let you do that.”

“You have no choice. They’re a gift for your help today.” He handed the clerk his credit card.

“Rick, this isn’t necessary.”

“I know. I want to get them for you.” After pocketing his wallet he placed the bag in her hands. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” Letting the fun and ease of the evening direct her, she gave in to impulse and lifted onto her toes to kiss his cheek.

Desire flared in his eyes. He appeared to struggle with himself for a moment, then he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. For one glorious minute he consumed her, drawing a response from her that met his passionate demand.

When he pulled back, she’d all but forgotten where she was.

While she regrouped, he ran a finger down her cheek. “My apologies. That’s the last time that can happen.”

Not quite able to wrap her tongue around words, she nodded mutely.

With a return to his stoic expression, he stepped back. “We should head back to the hotel.”

Rick stared hard at his reflection in the mirror the next morning as he finished shaving. He didn’t look any different. Didn’t really feel different, but something was off.

Maybe it was jet lag or something in the water here in England, but there had to be an explanation for his uncharacteristic behavior. Playing tourist, flirting, kissing his assistant: Was he insane? He had no business having fun.

Okay, that was wrong. He deserved to have fun as much as the next guy. But not with Savannah. He had no business having fun with his assistant. The next time she wanted to play tourist she was on her own.

Huh, that thought certainly took the punch out of his day. He attributed the curious sense of letdown to delayed jet lag rather than to the disquieting notion of Savannah being out and about on her own. Not that she’d hesitate. The woman was fearless, which wasn’t the same as being safe. Though the Lord knew she made friends wherever she went. Take the cougar last night. Propositioning him in the hallway one moment and laughing like old friends with Savannah the next.

He tossed down the towel and reached for his deodorant.

The problem was, he’d had a great time last night.

Watching the game, sharing the camaraderie of the crowd, eating the simple but good food. And with Savannah seated across from him making him laugh.

Swish and rinse. Finished, he dropped his toothbrush in a cup and set his shaving kit aside.

Again she’d made him laugh. He enjoyed the company of women, but they didn’t engage him. He didn’t let them. But Savannah slid under his guard and challenged him in so many ways.

But it had to stop. No more laughing, no more flirting, no more giving her gifts, and certainly no more nibbling on her plump bottom lip.

Now he felt downright deflated. Yes, it was definitely jet lag.

The phone was ringing when he entered the parlor suite. Savannah sat at the table eating muffins for breakfast. She began to rise, but he waved her off and answered the phone himself.

It was Crosse calling to set up an appointment for four that afternoon.

“His attorneys are going over the changes and they’ll have a counteroffer to us within the next couple of days,” Rick told Savannah after hanging up the phone. “We’ll have two days to review and respond. He’s hoping we’ll be able to celebrate with dinner before we leave.”

“That’s great news,” she enthused. “Did he say what the changes were?”

“No, but he said they were minor. I’m not expecting anything too shocking.”

He was right. When the contract arrived and they reviewed the noted changes, most were in areas where Rick had already built in room for negotiation. Only one required him to get on the phone to the company attorney.

He and Savannah made a good team, taking care of the details and wrapping up loose ends. He felt great going into the meeting the next day.

His confidence was rewarded when an agreement was reached and the contracts were signed. The relief and satisfaction were huge, even more so than when he’d closed the deal with Emerson. Maybe because he’d come close to failing this time, something he wasn’t used to, but he didn’t think so; this fit felt right. He respected Crosse and they actually hit it off once they began to communicate properly.

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