Married to His Business by Elizabeth Bevarly

MEMO

To: Matthias Barton From: Kendall Scarborough Re: My Resignation

Following up on our earlier conversation, I am hereby submitting my resignation. While I have enjoyed my five years as your personal assistant, I feel it is time for me to move on to an opportunity where my qualifications can be used to their fullest. I am sure you will find someone who can programme your BlackBerry, make your coffee and organise your office to your liking.

Please rest assured that my resignation is solely for professional purposes and has nothing to do with your engagement, your unengagement or any other personal matters. The timing is strictly coincidental.

Six-Month Mistress by Katherine Garbera

“I have a dress for you,” he declared.

“I’d prefer to wear my own clothes,” she told him.

“And I’d prefer you to wear the dress I selected.”

“I think we’re at a stalemate,” she said.

“No, we’re not.”

“We’re not?” she asked. She shook her head. “I know you think you’re going to get your way, but—”

“I don’t think it, Bella. I know it. Because as my mistress, you’ll put my preferences first.”

Married to His Business

ELIZABETH BEVARLY

Six-Month Mistress

KATHERINE GARBERA

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MARRIED TO HIS BUSINESS

by

Elizabeth Bevarly

ELIZABETH BE VARLY

is a New York Times bestselling, award-winning author of more than fifty novels and eight novellas. Her books have been published in nineteen languages and more than two dozen countries, and have been included in launches in Russia, China and the Spanish-speaking North American market. There are more than eight million copies of her books in print worldwide.

Although she has claimed as residences Washington, DC; Virginia; New Jersey and Puerto Rico, she now lives back in her native Kentucky with her husband and son, where she fully intends to remain.

Dear Reader,

Whenever you get a group of writers together, something interesting always develops. Something like, oh…I don’t know, a romance series. That’s what happened with the book you’re reading now. When some of us gathered in a hotel room at a romance writers’ conference and called another writer on the phone, we somehow ended up brainstorming this six-book MILLIONAIRE OF THE MONTH series.

We came home from the conference and immediately formed an e-mail loop, and little by little, the series took shape. One of us even located a magazine featuring log homes that included the perfect lodge for the Seven Samurai to occupy in the stories.

I had so much fun working with the other writers on this series, and I loved how it all turned out. Here’s hoping you enjoy our millionaires, as well.

Happy reading!

Elizabeth Bevarly

For all my Desire™ readers over the years.

Thanks for joining me on the ride.

One

As Kendall Scarborough watched her boss close his cell phone, stride to the northernmost window of his office and push it open, then hurl the apparatus into the wild blue yonder, she found herself thinking that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a good day to tender her resignation. Again. But she would. Again. And this time she would make it stick.

And how fitting that one of her last tasks for Matthias Barton would be ordering him a new phone. Again. At least phones were easier to program and format to his liking than were PDAs and MP3 players, a number of which also lay at the bottom of the reflecting pool in the courtyard of Barton Limited—which just so happened to be situated directly below the northernmost window of Matthias’s office. In fact, there were at least five years’ worth of PDAs and MP3 players and other small apparatuses… apparati…little gizmos…in the pool, Kendall knew. Matthias Barton was, without question, one of the finest minds working in big business today. But when it came to itty-bitty pieces of machinery, he was reduced to, well…throwing a lot of stuff out the window.

She straightened her little black-framed glasses and plucked out the pen that was perpetually tucked into the tidy, dark blond bun knotted at the back of her head. Then she withdrew a small notepad from the pocket of the charcoal pin-striped, man-style trousers she’d paired with a tailored white, man-style shirt. All of her work clothes were man-style, because she was convinced they gave her petite, five-foot-four-inch frame a more imposing presence in the male-dominated society of big business. After scribbling a few notes—not the least of which was New phone for Matthias—she flipped the notepad closed and stuffed it back into her pocket.

“Kendall,” he began as he closed the window and latched it, then turned to make his way back to his desk.

“Got it covered, sir,” she told him before he said another word. “We’ll go with VeraWave this time. I’m sure that service will suit you much better than the last one.”

To herself, she added, And the one before that. And the one before that. And the one before that. It was just a good thing Barton Limited was headquartered in a city like San Francisco where new phone services sprang up every day. The year wasn’t even half over, and Kendall had already been forced to change cellular companies three times.

“Thank you,” Matthias told her as he seated himself behind his big mahogany desk and reached for the small stack of letters she’d typed up that morning, which were now awaiting his signature.

His attire was, of course, man-style, too, but she didn’t think that was what gave him such an imposing presence—though certainly the espresso-colored suit and dark gold dress shirt and tie, coupled with his dark hair and even darker eyes, didn’t diminish it. Matthias himself was just larger than life, be it sitting at the head of the massive table that bisected the boardroom of Barton Limited, or slamming a squash ball into the wall at his athletic club, or charming some bastion of society into a major investment at a dinner party. Kendall had seen him in each of those situations—and dozens of others—and she couldn’t think of a single moment when Matthias hadn’t been imposing.

He’d intimidated the hell out of her when she’d first come to work for him straight out of graduate school, even though, back then, he’d barely been out of grad school himself. In spite of his youth, he’d already made millions, several times over. Kendall had been awed that someone only five years older than she—Matthias had only recently turned thirty-two—was already light-years ahead of her on the corporate ladder. She’d wanted to observe his habits and policies and procedures and mimic them, thinking she could achieve the same rapid rise and level of success through emulation.

It hadn’t taken long, however, for her to realize she would never be in Matthias’s league. He was too focused, too intense, too driven. His work was his life. He needed it to survive as much as he did oxygen or food. Over time, she’d gotten used to his ruthless single-mindedness when it came to achieving success, even if she’d never been able to understand it. And not just any old run-of-the-mill success, either. No, Matthias Barton had to be the absolute, no-close-seconds, unparalleled best at everything he set out to do.

Not that it mattered now, Kendall told herself, since she wasn’t going to be a part of his pursuit—or his success—much longer. She had a pursuit—and success—of her own to accomplish, and she should have started years ago. With her MBA from Stanford, she’d been overqualified for the position of personal assistant when she’d taken the job with Matthias. But she’d known that working for someone like him for a couple of years, even as a personal assistant, would offer her entrée into an echelon of big business that most recent grads never saw. She’d learn from a legend and make contacts up the wazoo, swimming with the proverbial sharks. But “a couple of years” had become five, and Kendall was savvy enough around the sharks now to be able to grill them up with a nice wasabi sauce.

It was time to go.

“Okay, where were we?” Matthias asked.

“Well, sir,” she began, “you’d just, um, concluded your call with Elliot Donovan at The Springhurst Corporation, and I—” She inhaled a deep breath, steeled herself for battle, and said, in a surprisingly sturdy voice, “I was about to give you my two weeks’ notice.” To herself, she added silently, And this time, I’m going through with it, no matter how hard you try to change my mind.

His head snapped up at her announcement, and his bittersweet chocolate eyes went flinty. “Kendall, I thought we’d already talked about this.”

“We have, sir, several times,” she agreed. “Which is why it shouldn’t come as a surprise. Now that your wedding to Miss Conover is off—”

“Look, just because Lauren and I canceled our plans,” Matthias interrupted, “that doesn’t mean I don’t still need you to take care of things.”

His now-defunct wedding to Lauren Conover had just been the most recent reason he’d used for why Kendall couldn’t leave his employ yet, but she was still surprised he would try to use it again. Technically, the wedding hadn’t been canceled. There had just been a change of date and venue. Oh, and also a change of groom, since Lauren was now planning to marry Matthias’s twin brother, Luke.

“Anything left to do will be taken care of by Miss Conover and her family,” Kendall pointed out. “If there’s anything left to do.”

And she doubted there was. Matthias hadn’t spoken much about his broken engagement, but Kendall hadn’t been surprised when she’d heard the news. Well, maybe the part about Lauren’s falling in love with Luke Barton had been a little surprising. Okay, a lot surprising. But even without Luke’s intervention, the marriage, as far as Kendall was concerned, would have been a huge mistake. Matthias had proposed to Lauren Conover only because he’d wanted to merge his business with her father’s, and Lauren Conover had accepted the proposal only because…

Well, frankly, Kendall was still trying to figure that one out. She’d met Lauren only a few times, but she’d never gotten the impression that Lauren was in love with Matthias—or even in like with him. Obviously she hadn’t been in love, because she wouldn’t have fallen for his brother, identical twin or not, if she had been. Personality-wise, Luke and Matthias Barton couldn’t be more different from each other—save the fact that Luke was as driven professionally as his brother was. At least, that was what the office scuttlebutt said. Kendall had never met the other man in person.

There was no question that the match between Luke and Lauren was indeed a love match. With Matthias, however, any life he’d envisioned building with Lauren had been more about business than pleasure, more about ambition than affection. There were times when Kendall wondered if the man could care about anything but building his business.

Matthias said nothing for a moment, only met Kendall’s gaze levelly. “But there are other things I’m going to need you to—”

“There is nothing,” she quickly, but firmly, interjected, before he had a chance to create and/or fabricate a host of obligations that anyone could see to. “We’re coming up on the slowest time of the year for Barton Limited,” she reminded him. “I have you up to speed on everything for the next month. Now that the Stuttgart trip is out of the way, you don’t have any international travel scheduled until the fall. No conferences until September. Nothing pressing that whoever you hire to take my place won’t have plenty of time to prepare for. And since you’ll be spending the entire month of July at your friend’s lodge, anyway, that makes this the perfect time for me to—”

“I’ll need you more than ever at Hunter’s lodge,” Matthias interrupted. “Even with all the preparation I’ve done—”

You mean I’ve done, Kendall thought to herself, since it had been she, not Matthias, who’d made all the arrangements.

“—it’s still going to be difficult, being away from the office for that length of time. It’s essential that I take someone with me who knows what’s going on.”

“Then I’d suggest you take Douglas Morton,” Kendall said, naming one of Barton Limited’s newest VPs.

“Morton needs to be here,” Matthias said. “You need to be with me.”

So now he was going to use the mysterious month at the mysterious lodge to keep her on her leash, Kendall thought. She knew his upcoming trip to his friend’s lodge on Lake Tahoe was much more than a trip to his friend’s lodge on Lake Tahoe, even if she had no idea exactly why. All she knew was that, in January, he’d received a letter out of the blue from some law office representing the estate of a friend of his from college. The man had passed away, but before going had imparted a dying wish he wanted fulfilled by his old friends. They were each to spend one month in a lodge he owned on the lake.

Why? Kendall had no idea. But Matthias had driven her crazy for weeks, trying to rearrange his spring schedule so that he could spend his assigned month of April in Lake Tahoe. Then, when he’d been unable to reschedule a trip to Germany in April, he’d driven her even crazier rearranging everything she’d spent weeks rearranging so that he could switch months with his brother Luke—whom he hadn’t even spoken to in years at that point—who had been assigned July.

There were seven friends in all, Kendall knew, dating back to Matthias’s time at Harvard, all of whom had gradually lost touch with one another after graduating. Matthias hadn’t wanted to talk about it in detail, and Kendall had respected his wishes. She’d also managed the impossible, reworking his schedule and obligations—twice—so that he could abide by his friend’s last wishes and spend his month in Lake Tahoe.

It would have been so much better if he’d been able to stick with the original plan. Not only because she would have saved herself a lot of trouble, but because Lake Tahoe was where Kendall would be going to complete the necessary training for her new job—starting the first week of July. She was dreading the possibility—however remote—that she might run into Matthias there so soon after severing ties with him. He was bound to be unhappy about her leaving. Even more so once he discovered who her new employer was.

“I can’t be with you, sir,” she reiterated. Inhaling a deep breath, she told him the rest. “I’ve been offered a position elsewhere that I’ve already accepted. They want me to take part in a week-long training seminar that starts the first of July—two weeks from today,” she added for emphasis. “And I’ll report for work at the company immediately after completing my orientation.”

Matthias said nothing for several moments, only leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his expansive chest. Then he looked at her in a way that made Kendall feel like her backbone was dissolving. Fast. Finally, he said, “You’ve already accepted a position somewhere else?”

She nodded. And she hoped she sounded more confident than she suddenly felt when she told him, “Um, yes?”

Oh, yeah. That sounded totally confident. There was nothing like punctuating a statement with a question mark to really hammer home one’s point. Provided one was a four-year-old child.

“Mind telling me where?” he asked.

Kendall braced herself for his reaction, reminding herself to be forceful and assertive and end her sentences with a period. Maybe even an exclamation point where necessary. By golly. Or, rather, By Golly! “With, um, OmniTech Solutions?” she said. Asked. Whatever. Oh, hell. “I’m going to be their new VP? In charge of Public Relations?” When she realized she was still speaking in the inquisitive tense, Kendall closed her eyes and mentally willed her age back up to twenty-seven-and-a-half. If she kept this up, Matthias wouldn’t let her have her milk and cookies for snack later.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw that his dark brows had shot up even farther at her declaration. Question. Whatever. Oh, hell.

“OmniTech?” he asked. Using the proper punctuation, Kendall couldn’t help noticing. Unlike some people. “Who the hell recruited you to work for OmniTech?”

Strange that he would assume she was recruited, she thought, and that she hadn’t gone looking for the position on her own. Even if, you know, she had been recruited for the position and hadn’t gone looking for it on her own. “Stephen DeGallo,” she told him. And she applauded herself for finally grasping the proper rules of punctuation. Now if she could just do something about the sudden drop in volume her voice had taken….

Although she wouldn’t have thought it possible, Matthias’s eyebrows arched even higher. “The CEO of the company recruited you to come work for him?” he asked with obvious disbelief. “As a vice president?”

Kendall didn’t see what was so unbelievable about that. She was perfectly qualified for the job. Tamping down her irritation, she repeated, “Yes, sir.”

Matthias narrowed his eyes at her. “Stephen DeGallo never hires from outside the company. He always promotes from within. He doesn’t trust outsiders. He likes to surround himself with people he’s trained to think like he does. You know. Suck-ups.”

Kendall ignored the comment. Mostly because she couldn’t help thinking that, after five years of working for Matthias, she was even better qualified for the job of suck-up than she was vice president in charge of public relations. “Stephen said—”

“Stephen?” Matthias echoed, this time punctuating the comment with an incredulous expulsion of air. “You’re already calling him by his first name?”

“He insisted. Sir,” Kendall added meaningfully, since Matthias had never extended her the invitation to address him so informally, even after being his right-hand woman for five years. Before he could comment further, she hurried on, “Stephen said I had impeccable credentials. And I do,” she couldn’t help adding. “In case you’ve forgotten, I have an MBA from Stanford, and I graduated with highest honors.”

Matthias actually smiled at that. “Oh, yeah, I’ll just bet DeGallo’s impressed with your…credentials.” He leaned back in his chair even more, folding his arms now to cradle his head in his hands. It was a position Kendall knew well, one that was meant to lull the observer into a false sense of security before Matthias struck with the velocity and toxicity of a cobra.

“You realize,” he said, “that the only reason DeGallo offered you the job is because he’s competing with Barton Limited for the Perkins contract, and he’s going to expect you to tell him everything you know about the work we’ve done so far to win it.”

The barb hit home, just as she knew Matthias had meant for it to. Instead of reacting to it, however, Kendall only replied calmly, “That would be highly unethical, sir. Possibly even criminal. Not only could Stephen not be expecting me to provide him with any such information, but he must know I’d never betray you that way.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Matthias asked easily.

Kendall gaped at him. Now that was a reaction she hadn’t expected. “Of course I wouldn’t. How can you even ask me something like that?”

She realized then how right she’d been to accept the new position. If Matthias could suspect she was capable of turning on him so completely, so readily, then he truly didn’t view her any differently than he did the phones he tossed out the window. He’d also implied she wasn’t qualified for her new job, even after the countless times she’d proved how valuable an employee she was.

Clearly, it was time to go.

“Fine, then,” he said, dropping his arms and sitting up straight again. “But, Kendall, haven’t you learned anything from me in the time you’ve been at Barton Limited? Big business isn’t the gentleman’s game it was a generation ago. No one’s going to do you any favors. Why should you do any favors for them? For me? When it comes to business, you think of yourself first, others not at all. Feel free to report to OmniTech tomorrow if you want. Since you’ll be going to work for one of my competitors, I can’t risk having you around the office any longer and potentially compromising the work we’re doing here. Your two weeks’ notice won’t be necessary. You’re fired. Clear out your desk immediately. I’ll have Sarah call security and they can escort you out of the building. You have ten minutes.”

And with that, he turned his attention back to the stack of papers requiring his signature and began to sign each without another glance in her direction.

Kendall had no idea what to say. She hadn’t expected this from Matthias at all. She’d thought he would react the way he’d reacted every other time she’d tried to resign, with a seemingly endless list of reasons why she couldn’t go, none of which was in any way legitimate. Never in a million years would she have thought he would fire her, even if she was going to work for one of his competitors. Barton Limited had scores of competitors. She would have been hard-pressed to find a position with a company that didn’t compete with Matthias in some way. She’d thought he would view her acceptance of a new job the same way she did: as business. Instead, he seemed to have taken it…

Personally, she marveled.

Immediately, she told herself that was impossible. Matthias Barton didn’t get personal. About anything. He was just reacting this way because he was worried she would compromise his pursuit of the Perkins contract. That, she thought, wasn’t surprising. That he would think of his business first, and others…well, as he’d said, not at all. She just wished he had enough faith in her to realize that she would never do anything to sabotage him or his work.

Clearly, it was so time to go.

With a briskly muttered “Yes, sir,” Kendall spun on her heel and exited Matthias’s office, giving him the same courtesy he’d extended to her and not looking back once. She wasn’t the kind of person to look backward. Only forward. That was the reason she’d come to work for Matthias in the first place, because she’d been thinking ahead, to a better future. Now that future was the present. It was time to start thinking forward again. And that meant never giving another thought to…

Well. She could barely remember Matthias Thaddeus Barton’s name. Or how his espresso eyes flashed gold when he was angry. Or how that one unruly lock of dark hair fell forward whenever he had his head bent in concentration. Or how one side of his mouth turned up more than another whenever he smiled that arrogant smile…

Matthias looked at the closed door through which Kendall had just exited and silently cursed it for ruining the view. Not that there was anything especially scenic about Kendall Scarborough. With her librarian glasses and those mannish, colorless clothes hiding what was doubtless a curve-free body, anyway, and with her hair always bound tightly to her head, she wasn’t likely to be showing up as a trifold with staples taped inside the locker of a dockworker. Of course, that had been the first thing to grab his attention during her interview five years ago, because the last thing he’d wanted or needed in a personal assistant was someone he might want to get personal with.

Not that personal to Matthias was all that personal, but the risk for screwing up was always there, since he had, in the past, been swayed by beauty, with disastrous results. He was understandably wary around beautiful things and beautiful women. But he’d never been able to resist either.

He’d thought he’d solved his problem by arranging a marriage with Lauren Conover that would have provided him with not just a suitable wife for a man in his position, but a beneficial merger with her father’s company, as well. Lauren was beautiful, smart, accomplished and chic, but there hadn’t been a spark of any inconvenient passion between them. The two of them could have lived in a beautiful home, had beautiful children and a beautiful life, without Matthias ever having to get too deeply involved with any of it. It had been so perfect. Until his brother, Luke, had come along and, as had been a habit with Lunkhead since their childhood, screwed up a perfectly good thing.

But it wasn’t Lunkhead Luke who had screwed up things with Kendall, Matthias reminded himself. Kendall, who was exactly what Matthias did want and need in a personal assistant: pragmatic and professional, enterprising and efficient. In the five years she’d worked for him, she’d been his calendar, his clock, his coordinator. His bartender, his astrologer, his conscience. His butcher, his baker, his candlestick maker. His tinker, his tailor, his spy.

That last word hit Matthias hard, since it was precisely what he’d just accused Kendall of being for someone else. Even though he knew she wouldn’t. Even though he knew she couldn’t. Although there was no question that Stephen DeGallo’s motive in hiring her had been driven by his hope—hell, his certainty—that he could persuade her to share information about both Matthias and Barton Limited that would work to his benefit, Matthias couldn’t honestly see her turning on him that way. He’d just been so surprised by her announcement that she’d already accepted a job somewhere else—and with his biggest competitor—that he hadn’t known what to say.

Whenever she’d tried to tender her resignation before, Matthias had always been able to talk her out of it. And he’d always talked her out of it because he’d needed her here. Hell, he knew she was overqualified for her position. That was why he’d given her so many raises over the years that she was now making almost twice what her predecessors had made. Yeah, okay, maybe she could be doing more with her degree and her savvy, he conceded reluctantly. But she didn’t have to do it for OmniTech.

There was no way Stephen DeGallo had recruited Kendall for her résumé. He didn’t see her the way Matthias did—pragmatic and professional, enterprising and efficient. She was just an opportunity to mine the practices and policies of Barton Limited. Nothing more.

He expelled a disgruntled breath of air as he continued to look at the closed door. Well, he’d just have to get along without her, wouldn’t he? He’d just hire another personal assistant, that was all. Someone else who was pragmatic and professional, enterprising and efficient. Someone else who would be his calendar, clock and conscience. That shouldn’t be so hard, right? He’d put Kendall on it right away.

His finger was actually on the buzzer to call her in before he realized what he’d been about to do. Ask Kendall, the woman he’d just fired—not to mention insulted—to hire a replacement for herself. He shook his head and chuckled at himself for the gaffe, even if he couldn’t find anything especially funny about it. Man. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think he couldn’t do anything without Kendall. And that, he knew, was nuts.

He was a captain of industry. He had made his first million less than a year after graduating from college, and he’d multiplied it dozens of times over since. He headed a Fortune 500 Company that employed thousands of people all over the world.

So he’d lost his personal assistant, he thought. So what? Personal assistants were as easy to find as cheap champagne on New Year’s Eve. He’d hire another one tomorrow. Have the person trained well enough by the time he left for Tahoe that they would at least have the basics down. Actually, the timing, as Kendall had said, was perfect. He could use the month in Tahoe with his new assistant to mold him or her to his liking.

Matthias would get along just fine without Kendall Scarborough. Hell, yes, he would.

Hell, yes.

Two

Kendall made the trip to Tahoe courtesy of OmniTech, enjoying the brief flight in first class. A rental car awaited her on arrival, a luxury sedan that was quite the posh way to travel, compared to her little economy car at home. Maybe on her new salary, she could ultimately buy something like this, she thought as she settled into the leather seat and pushed the button to open the sunroof. As the balmy summer air tumbled into the car, she donned her sunglasses, fastened her seat belt over her white oxford shirt and khaki trousers and tuned the radio to the jazz station. Then, feeling like a corporate executive for the first time in her life, she pulled out of the rental lot at the airport basking in contentment.

Until she thought about Matthias Barton. Then her contentment fled. And what she’d hoped would be a peaceful, introspective drive that was filled with planning for her future at OmniTech suddenly turned into a grueling marathon of disgruntlement instead.

But then, thoughts of Matthias—never mind disgruntlement—had been regular companions over the two weeks that had passed since she’d last seen him. So as she merged onto the highway, Kendall did her best to think of something— anything—else. How she needed to replace the hardware on her kitchen cabinets. The fact that women’s shoe manufacturers still hadn’t figured out how to wed style with comfort. Why the sky was blue and the grass was green. The atomic weight of boron. Where the contestants of Survivor should go next—though, admittedly, it probably wasn’t polite for her to say aloud where she thought they should go. Whatever it took to keep from hearing again those two little words she’d never thought she’d hear Matthias say to her.

You’re fired.

She still couldn’t believe he’d done it. After giving him five years of her life, years she could have spent building her own career instead of bolstering his, he’d cut her loose in the most insulting way possible. She’d seen him fire plenty of people during the time she’d worked for him, but they were people who’d deserved the boot. Employees who had been, at best, ineffective, and at worst, dishonest. People who had cheated him, or lied to him, or stolen from him. Now Kendall, who had never missed a day on the job, and whose work ethic had been irreproachable, had been relegated to their ranks.

But even that wasn’t what bothered her the most. What bothered her the most was her own reaction to having been fired. She told herself she should be angry with Matthias for the way he’d dismissed her. She should be resentful. She should be outraged. She should be reporting him to the Equal Opportunity Commission. Instead, what she felt was hurt. Hurt in the same way a little girl feels hurt when she’s always picked last for kickball. And hurt feelings were not something a consummate professional like Kendall should feel.

Matthias was right about one thing. She hadn’t learned as much from him as she’d thought she would when she accepted the position, if she couldn’t be the focused, unflinching businesswoman she’d envisioned becoming. She could be as ruthless and determined as Matthias was, she told herself. She could. And she would be, too. Starting the moment she passed through the doors of the Timber Lake Inn.

That must be a new hotel in Tahoe, Kendall thought as she exited onto the road that would take her to her final destination. She’d never heard of it before. It was kind of an odd name for a conference hotel, too. They must be trying to make business travel sound less businessy or something.

She glanced at the numbers on a shop window to get her bearings and calculated that the hotel was another eight blocks down, toward the lake. She hadn’t been to Tahoe since college, she realized as she drove, smiling at the shops boasting kites and artwork and jewelry and clothes. In the winter, there would be skis lined up everywhere, but during the summer, there were water toys and rafts instead. People dotted the streets in their bright summer colors and sunglasses, lolling at café tables and sauntering in and out of stores. The weather was perfect for being outdoors, the air kissed with just a hint of the cool breeze gliding off the lake, the sky a faultless blue streaked with gauzy clouds.

Kendall smiled at the promise inherent in the day. It was a good omen. She had been right to leave Matthias’s employ. Stephen DeGallo’s offer couldn’t have come at a better time. Funny how things just worked out perfectly sometimes. She had a full week to spend in one of the most beautiful places on earth, learning about a new career that, she hoped, would be hers for the rest of her life. Her future at OmniTech was wide-open. If she worked hard and did everything right—who knew?—she might even become the CEO of the company herself someday. Stephen DeGallo was a confirmed bachelor in his late forties with no family he was bringing up through the ranks, and he was known for rewarding his workers with generous benefits and bonuses. Even if he never groomed Kendall for his own position at the company, there was every reason to believe he might someday install her as the head of one of the scores of businesses he owned. Unlike Matthias, who had never offered any indication that he would ever consider Kendall for anything more than his assist—

Dammit. She was thinking about him again.

She pushed Matthias out of her brain—again—and looked for another street number. Two more blocks.

When she braked for a red light, she used the opportunity to get her bearings. A glance at her watch told her it was just coming up on three o’clock, precisely the time she’d anticipated arriving, knowing her room would be ready by then. She was supposed to meet Stephen and the other trainees at six for an informal dinner, so they could all get to know one another, and training officially began at eight in the morning. Dress would be casual, but Kendall had packed a couple of suits in with her trousers and shirts, just in case. She was, after all, a consummate professional.

Of course, she was in Lake Tahoe, too, so she’d also included blue jeans and T-shirts and shorts and sandals, her preferred attire for relaxing. She wasn’t such a workaholic that she didn’t take advantage of her off time. Unlike Matthias, who—

Dammit, she was doing it again.

The light changed green, so she banished thoughts of Matthias—again—and urged the accelerator down lightly, taking the last two blocks slowly. The lake was in view now, but she didn’t see any hotels large enough to qualify for corporate lodgings up ahead. She took her eyes off the road long enough to glance down at the passenger seat, where she’d laid the directions and a map, to confirm she had the address right. Maybe she’d written it down wrong, she thought. Because this block and the one beyond it was nothing but more quaint shops and cafés and cozy B and Bs.

Just as she neared the end of the last block and began to look for a place to turn around, she saw a sign with an arrow pointing to the right that read Parking for Timber Lake Inn. Braking quickly, she was able to make the turn just in time.

But the drive led to the entrance of a tidy, cheerful little bed-and-breakfast. Kendall frowned, wondering where she’d gone wrong, then noted a sign above the door that identified it as the very hotel she’d been looking for. Huh. That was odd. The place looked more like a honeymoon hotel than it did a corporate facility. Stephen DeGallo must like to use places like this to make his new hires feel more comfortable. Yet another way in which he differed from Matthias, who, Kendall was sure, would have scheduled an orientation for…

Well, actually, Matthias would have trained people in the buildings where they would be working, she thought. Or rather, he’d have other people training his new employees in the buildings where they would be working. It would be more professional that way. More businesslike. God forbid he should ever want anyone to feel any other way.

When Kendall realized she was thinking about Matthias again, she shoved the thought away again—harder this time—and pushed open the car door. By now a bellman had emerged from the hotel and was descending the stairs to help her with her bag. Instead of the liveried uniform he might have worn at a larger hotel, however, he was dressed in khaki shorts and a polo bearing the logo of the Timber Lake Inn stitched on the breast pocket. Coupled with his shaggy blond hair and ruddy complexion, he looked as if he should be standing at the edge of the ocean toting a surfboard instead of lugging bags for a lakeside hotel.

“Dude,” he greeted her with a smile, reinforcing the image. “Welcome to the Timber Lake Inn. I’m Sean. I’ll get your bags.”

“Thanks,” Kendall replied with a smile of her own as she reached into the car to pop the trunk open. “I’m Kendall Scarborough. I’m here for the OmniTech orientation session.”

Sean nodded. “Well, wherever that’s going on, you can probably get there by walking. We’re pretty centrally located here.”

The comment puzzled Kendall. “It’s going on here,” she said. “At the hotel.”

Sean’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Whoa. First I’ve heard about it. But then, I was on vacation last week and just got back today. All I knew about going on this week was the Tyson-Gerhart wedding and the Truckee Ski Club reunion. Those have got us booked to full capacity.”

Kendall looked at the hotel again. It didn’t look big enough to host those functions and a training session. Not that she’d expected the OmniTech orientation to be a huge event, but since it would run for a week, and since Stephen DeGallo himself would be part of it, she’d just assumed the company would be training quite a few people. A business that size employed hundreds in San Francisco alone, and Kendall had been under the impression that this session would include new hires from all over the Northwest. There must be more to the hotel than the two stories she could see.

Sean collected her bags and she followed him into the lobby, which immediately made her feel comfortable. It was everything a place called the Timber Lake Inn should be, from its knotty pine walls to the huge creek stone fireplace on the opposite side of the room. The hardwood floors were covered here and there by woven rugs in Native American geometrics, and wrought iron fixtures hung from the exposed log ceiling. A wide staircase to the right of the reception desk led up to a line of rooms on the second floor, but none of them seemed to be meeting rooms. As if to illustrate that, one of the doors opened and a couple exited, looping their arms around each other and cuddling like newlyweds.

Nothing about the place suggested it was used for business events. In fact, the place looked…well, cozy. That was the only word that came to Kendall’s mind.

The word returned when she entered her room…until she discovered it was actually a suite appointed with more pine walls and more exposed ceiling beams and more Native American rugs. In the main room, French doors opened onto a spacious balcony that offered a glorious view of the lake, which was picked up again in the bedroom by a broad picture window. The bathroom boasted a jacuzzi and small television, and there was a wet bar tucked into the far side of the living room. An enormous basket of fresh fruit and wine sat at the center of the dining table, and a massive bouquet of flowers, fragrant and splashy, was perched on the desk. Envelopes bearing her name—her first name—were tucked into each.

“Still think DeGallo wants you only for your MBA and your business savvy?”

Kendall spun around with a start at the question to find Matthias leaning in the still-open door to her room. Her lips parted in surprise, but not entirely because of his unexpected arrival. He looked…different. And not just because he was casually dressed in clay-colored trousers and a navy-blue polo, where she was more accustomed to seeing him in suits. She’d seen him dressed for non-business-related functions before, everything from rugby in the park to black-tie opening nights. It wasn’t Matthias’s clothing that looked off today. It was Matthias.

His clothes were a little wrinkled, his hair was a little shaggy, and his eyes were a little shadowed, as if he wasn’t getting quite enough sleep. In fact, his whole face looked a little shadowed, a little leaner, a little rougher. And Matthias had never been “a little” anything. He was an all-or-nothing kind of man, emphasis on the all, especially where his physical appearance went.

She ignored the little pang of concern that pinched her at seeing him in his less-tidy-than-usual state. It was none of her business if he was working too much. None of her business if whoever he’d hired to take her place wasn’t keeping him on track the way she had. She wasn’t her boss’s keeper. Especially since Matthias wasn’t even her boss anymore.

“What are you doing here?” she asked by way of a greeting, congratulating herself on keeping her voice steady, clear and indifferent. “I mean, I know why you’re in Tahoe. But what are you doing here? At my hotel?”

He raised a shoulder and let it drop, then pushed himself away from the doorjamb. As he strode into the room, he told her, “I made better time driving from San Francisco than I thought I would, so I’m a little ahead of schedule. I don’t have to meet the caretaker for another hour, so I thought I’d drop in and say hello.”

Kendall eyed him suspiciously. It wasn’t like Matthias to “drop in” on anyone, for any reason. And he must have gone to some lengths to find out where she would be staying and when she would be arriving, because she hadn’t shared any of that information with him. Not to mention they hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms. They hadn’t spoken to or seen each other since he’d had her escorted out of the building like a common thief. If he was here now, it had to be because he wanted something.

So she asked him, “What do you want?”

Matthias looked at Kendall and wondered which of dozens of answers to that question he should give her. He wanted a lot of things, actually. He wanted the Perkins contract. He wanted the Barton Limited stock to go through the roof. He wanted to be worth a billion dollars by the time he was forty. Hell, he even wanted world peace, since it would create so many new business-friendly governments. And, okay, he wanted a new personal assistant, too, since, so far, everyone he’d interviewed had been, at best, unqualified and, at worst, a lobotomy gone tragically wrong.

Mostly, though, he wanted Kendall to open her eyes and see what was so obvious to him. Talk about a lobotomy. What had happened to the pragmatic, professional, enterprising, efficient woman he’d hired? Looking at Kendall now…

Well, actually, looking at Kendall now, Matthias wondered what she’d done to herself. The dark blond hair she normally had twisted up out of her way hung loose, cascading past her shoulders in a thick, silky mass. Wow, it was a lot longer than he’d thought—not that he’d ever thought much about Kendall’s hair. But it was long. Thick. Silky. Had he mentioned silky? And long? And thick? Her glasses were gone, too, and he noted with some surprise that her eyes were huge without them. And green. He’d never noticed that Kendall had green eyes. Really green eyes. Pale green. Like bottle glass. And every bit as clear.

“What do you want, Mr. Barton?” she asked again, bringing his thoughts back to where they needed to be.

It was a good question, he thought. He wished he had a good answer to go with it. But the fact was, he still wasn’t sure why he was here. Yeah, her hotel was on his way, but even if it hadn’t been, he would have driven the extra miles to see her. He’d done a little checking this week—okay, he’d done a lot of snooping—to find out where Kendall would be staying and the particulars of this “week-long orientation.” But his mole at OmniTech—yes, Matthias had one there, just as he was sure DeGallo had one at Barton Limited—hadn’t been able to uncover much about it.

Which had just hammered home to Matthias that the guy was up to no good. Had there been a legitimate orientation seminar going on, it would have been a matter of company record. As far as Matthias could tell, however, Kendall was the only new hire of any consequence that Stephen DeGallo had made recently. As he’d told her two weeks ago, the guy didn’t hire outside the company for the kind of position he’d offered her. And any alleged orientation there might have been for her position should have taken place on-site—not in a cozy, romantic little hotel overlooking Lake Tahoe.

“I’ve come to offer you your job back,” he said, surprising himself as much as he’d obviously surprised Kendall. He really hadn’t been intending to do that at all when he drove into town. He’d just been planning to…

Okay, he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been planning to do. But now that he thought more about it, offering Kendall her job back made sense. No one he’d interviewed had come close to matching her qualifications. Matthias was confident that if he made her the right offer, she’d come back on board. Everyone had their price. Kendall was no exception. She’d just been feeling unappreciated, he told himself. He hadn’t emphasized enough how valuable she was to Barton Limited. Oh, sure, he’d given her raises and more benefits. But any good employee needed ego stroking, too. Just because Kendall had never seemed like the kind of person who wanted that kind of thing didn’t mean it wasn’t important to her.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought about that before. At least not consciously. Evidently his brain had been considering it subconsciously, to have thrown out the offer to hire her back. That was probably what had been behind Matthias’s driving into town to find her in the first place. He’d been planning—subconsciously—to renegotiate the terms of her employment and invite her back.

Yeah, that was it. It had to be. Why else would he have come?

Kendall, however, didn’t seem to be as open to the idea of her return to Barton Limited as Matthias was, because she didn’t answer him right away. In fact, she was looking at him as if she was kind of indignant.

No, it must be grateful, he told himself immediately. Indignity, gratitude…those got mixed up all the time. They had a lot of the same letters in common. After all, why would she feel indignant?

“I have a job,” she said tersely.

Or maybe she’d said it sweetly. Those got mixed up a lot, too. Matthias was sure of it. The letter thing again.

“And I’m very excited about it,” she added.

No, definitely terse, he thought. And not a little shirty.

Instead of replying, he strode across the room to the broad panoramic windows that looked out over the crystalline blue water of the lake and the bright blue sky above it. The day was glorious, the view crisp and clean, the dark green mountains on the other side of the water streaked with purple shadows from the forests of trees, the sun dappling the water as if it were scattering diamonds. This place was as far removed from the skyscrapers and concrete of San Francisco as it could be, and the last thing anyone should think about here was work. Which was why Matthias so seldom visited places like this. And which was why—one of many whys—he knew Stephen DeGallo was up to no good.

He sensed more than heard Kendall as she came up behind him, and was unprepared for the feeling that washed over him when she came to a halt behind him. He’d been edgy since leaving San Francisco, as he always was when he traveled. Travel was such a waste of time, and Matthias was always impatient getting from point A to point B so he could get on with business. This time, however, the feeling hadn’t lessened once he’d arrived at his destination. He’d still been feeling anxious when he entered Kendall’s room. But when she stood beside him then, he was suddenly overcome by a feeling of calmness. Peacefulness. A strange sense of well-being that he hadn’t felt for…

Well, a couple of weeks, anyway.

She said nothing as she gazed out the window, only studied the same view Matthias was considering himself. But he knew there must be some part of her brain that was questioning DeGallo’s motives by now. She was a smart woman. She had good instincts. It was what made her so good at what she did.

“Look at that view,” he said anyway, trivializing with a cliché what was a staggeringly beautiful piece of work. “You don’t see views like that in the city.” He turned to face Kendall before adding meaningfully, “Where most job orientations take place.”

She slumped a little at the comment, expelling a tired-sounding sigh. But she said nothing to deny his more-than-obvious allegation.

“And look at this room,” he said further, turning again and sweeping both arms open. “Who gets a place like this when they’re undergoing orientation for a new job?”

Kendall sighed again, still sounding weary, but turned her body in the same direction as his. “New vice presidents for the company,” she told him. “That’s who. Stephen just wants to make a good impression, that’s all.”

Matthias dipped his head in concession, however small, to that. Then he strode to the table where there sat a bouquet of flowers more massive than any man anywhere had ever sent to any woman for any reason—be it declaring his love or groveling for forgiveness. He plucked the card from a particularly luscious-looking bloom and began to open it.

“Matthias, don’t—” Kendall began.

He halted, snapping his head up at that, not because she had told him to stop, but because she had addressed him by his first name. Never, not once, during the five years she’d worked for him had she called him Matthias. Because never, not once, had he given her the okay to do it. And the fact that she had stepped over that line now so thoroughly, without his permission…

Hmm. Actually, now that he’d heard her call him Matthias, he realized he kind of liked the way his name sounded coming from her lips. In fact, he kind of liked the way her lips looked right now, having just said his name. Parted softly in surprise, and maybe embarrassment, as if she hadn’t intended to call him Matthias, and now she wasn’t sure what to do to take it back, or if she even wanted to take it back. What was strange was that Matthias didn’t want her to take it back. In fact, he wanted her to say it again. Even more surprising, he realized the context in which he wanted to hear her say his name had nothing to do with her job, and everything to do with, well, other reasons people came to Lake Tahoe.

“Don’t,” she said again, more softly this time. Omitting the use of his name.

This time, too, she extended her hand toward the small envelope he still held tucked between his index and middle fingers. Not sure why he did it, Matthias pulled his hand toward himself, out of her reach. She took another step forward, bringing her body to within touching distance of his, then hesitated. But she didn’t drop her hand, and for a moment, he thought—hoped—she would trail her hand after his to retrieve the card. He even found himself looking forward to her fingers tangling with his as they vied for possession. And although it was clear she was grappling with the possibility of that very thing herself—or maybe because she was grappling with it—she dropped her hand to her side again, ceding to him with clear reluctance.

The victory was strangely hollow, but Matthias shouldered it anyway. Opening the envelope, he withdrew the card, then scanned the sentiment upon it. He wasn’t sure if it was DeGallo’s writing, but it was masculine and forceful, and he suspected DeGallo himself had indeed penned the words. The task hadn’t been left to an assistant to complete, which was what Matthias would have done in the same situation.

Then again, Matthias would never have been in this situation. Oh, he might have wooed someone away from one of his competitors specifically to learn more about that competitor’s practices, but he would have been straightforward about it. He wouldn’t have set up the new hire in a honeymoon suite with a breathtaking view of a romantic environment and called it orientation. And he wouldn’t have sent flowers—with anyone’s signature.

He shook his head as he read aloud the sentiment DeGallo had written. “Kendall,” he said, “Can’t wait to have you navigating our PR waters. Welcome aboard!” He looked up at Kendall then, but she was staring at the wall. “Navigating our PR waters?” he repeated. “Was that the best he could do?”

Now Kendall turned to look at Matthias, her huge, clear green eyes penetrating deep enough to heat something in his chest. “Well, there is a lake out there,” she said lamely. “Besides, what would you have said to welcome a new employee?”

“I would have said, ‘Get to work,” ’ he replied. “And I would have said it to that new employee’s face. I wouldn’t go through all this ridiculous pretense to make her feel like she was more important than she actually is.”

Two bright spots of color flared on Kendall’s cheeks at that. She nodded brusquely. “Of course you wouldn’t,” she said. “Because no one is important to you. You think the success of Barton Limited is because of you and you alone. You have no appreciation for how many people it takes to make a company prosper, and you have no clue how to take care of the ones who are doing the best work. And if you’re not careful, then—”

She halted abruptly, her eyes widening in what he could only guess was horror that she’d just leaped like a gazelle across the line she had previously only overstepped. Matthias narrowed his eyes at her, his own lips parting now in surprise. Kendall had never challenged him like this before. Hell, challenged? he asked himself. Compared to her usual self-containment, she’d just read him the riot act. With a bullhorn. Sure, she’d taken exception in the past to some of his decisions—okay, edicts—but she’d always pointed out her concerns with discretion. And deference. But this reaction was completely unlike her. Totally unexpected. And extremely…

Matthias stopped himself before allowing the impression to fully form. Because the impression had nothing to do with his reaction to Kendall as an employee, and everything to do with his reaction to her as a…a person.

“Is that what you really think?” he asked, deciding to focus on that instead of…the other thing.

She hesitated only a second, then nodded. And then, a little less forcefully than she’d spoken before, she added, “Yes. Sir.” And then, a little more forcefully, she altered her response to, “Yes. Matthias.”

There it was again, he marveled. That ripple of heat that should have been disapproval of her familiarity by using his first name, but which was instead…something else. Something he told himself to try to figure out later, because he really needed to respond to Kendall’s allegation that he was so self-centered. But because of the way she was looking at him, all clear-green-eyed and hot-pink-cheeked and tumbling-silky-haired, all he could manage in response was, “Oh, really?”

A moment passed in which neither of them spoke, or moved, or even breathed. Then Kendall’s lips turned up almost imperceptibly, into a smile with what only someone who had the vast experience Matthias had with the emotion could identify.

Victory.

Kendall Scarborough had it in her head that she’d just won whatever the two of them had been engaged in. Now if Matthias could just figure out what the two of them had just engaged in, maybe he’d know what to do next.

Kendall, however, didn’t seem to be having the same problem he had. Because she settled her hands on her hips in a way that was at once relaxed and challenging, and she asked again, “Was there some reason you came here this afternoon, Matthias? Is there something you wanted?”

He honestly had no idea how to answer her. Because for the first time in his life, Matthias didn’t know what he wanted. He was too off-kilter looking at Kendall and thinking about Kendall and listening to Kendall saying his name and marveling at how Kendall had thrown him so off-kilter.

But he didn’t want to look foolish, either—that would have been another first he would have just as soon done without. So he reached into his trouser pocket and removed a small gadget he’d purchased for himself the day after she’d left his employ. Something called a… Well, he couldn’t remember what it was called now, but it was supposed to be even better than the… Whatever that other thing was he used to use for keeping track of his appointments and obligations.

Then he held it out to Kendall and replied, “Yeah. Do you have any idea how this thing works? I keep getting e-mail from some deposed prince in Nigeria who needs my help freeing up some frozen assets he’s trying to get out of the country, and I’d really like to help him out, because he promised me a more than generous share once he’s fluid again. Plus, this woman named Trixie just got a new Web cam she wants to show me, and I’m thinking it might be technology I’d like to invest in.”

He looked at Kendall, who was looking back at him as if he’d just grown a second head. “What?” he said.

She crossed the room in a half-dozen long strides and opened the door. Then she pointed to the hallway beyond with one finger. “Out,” she said. “Now.”

His mouth dropped open in surprise. “What, you’re not going to help me?”

“I’m not your assistant anymore, Matthias.”

Oh, as if he needed reminding of that. “But—”

“Out,” she repeated. “Now.”

He shook his head in disbelief. But he did as she asked him to. Told him to. Demanded he do. The door was slamming shut behind him before he’d even cleared it, missing his backside by that much. He spun around, and went so far as to lift a fist to pound on it again. But he stopped himself before completing the action.

There was a better way to go about this, he told himself. He just had to figure out what it was. Because Kendall was making a mistake, thinking OmniTech was the place she needed to be. Where she needed to be was with him. Or, rather, with Barton Limited, he quickly corrected himself. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to make her realize that, too.

Three

Kendall leaned back against the door through which Matthias had just exited and tried to get a handle on everything that had just happened.

She’d thrown him out, she marveled. She’d looked at the BlackBerry in his hand, incredulous that, just when they were starting to have an exchange that felt evenly matched, he would ask her to program the little gizmo the way she had so many others when he was paying her to be his underling, and then she’d asked—no, told—him to leave. Even more stunning than that was the fact that Matthias had done as she asked—no, told—him to and had left. Without a word of argument. Without a word of exception. Without a word of reproach.

Okay, and without a word of farewell, either.

The point was that Kendall had taken charge of a situation with Matthias and she had mastered it. Eventually. Just because there had been a few moments in between that had been filled with strange bits of weirdness didn’t diminish the enormity of that achievement.

But just what, exactly, had that weirdness been about? she asked herself now. There had been times during their conversation when Matthias had looked at her almost as if he were seeing someone else, someone he didn’t quite know, someone with whom he wasn’t entirely comfortable. Someone he wasn’t sure he liked. It had been…weird. And her response had been weird, too. She’d suddenly been aware of him in a way she hadn’t been when she’d worked for him. Or, at least, in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to think about when she worked for him.

She let herself think about it now.

The day Matthias had announced his engagement to Lauren Conover, Kendall had experienced a reaction that had surprised her. A lot. And she’d realized that day that her feelings for her boss might perhaps, possibly, conceivably go a little beyond professional. Because where she had never minded the other women who came and went in Matthias’s life—because they always came and went—when he’d made a move to join himself permanently to someone else, Kendall had felt a little…

Well, weird.

At first, she’d told herself it was just disappointment that such a smart man would do something as stupid as arrange a marriage of convenience for himself. Then she’d told herself what she felt was annoyance that, because of his engagement, he wanted her to arrange so many events for him that had nothing to do with work. In fact, she’d run through a veritable grocery list of feelings in response to Matthias’s announced nuptials: denial, then anger, then bargaining, then depression…

Hang on a minute, Kendall thought now. Those were the stages of grief. And no way had she felt that. No way had she been that far gone on her boss.

Ultimately, however, she had been forced to admit the truth. That maybe, perhaps, possibly, conceivably, she had developed…feelings… for her employer. Feelings of attachment. Feelings of allegiance. Feelings of… She closed her eyes tight and made herself admit it. Feelings of…affection.

The recognition that she had begun to feel things for her boss that she had no business feeling—even her allegiance wasn’t for things that related to work—was what had cemented her conviction that she would, once and for all, tender her resignation. Even after his engagement to Lauren was canceled, she’d known she had to go. She couldn’t risk falling for Matthias, because he would never care for her in any way other than the professional. He didn’t care about anyone in any way other than the professional. That the offer from Stephen DeGallo had come on the heels of the cancellation of Matthias’s wedding had just been an exclamation point to punctuate the obvious. She had done the right thing by leaving Matthias. Or, rather, she hastily corrected herself, by leaving Matthias’s employ.

She just hoped taking the job with Stephen DeGallo had been the right thing to do, too.

Some lodge, Matthias thought as he pulled into the drive of what looked more like a boutique hotel than a private residence. Had it not been for the fact that he’d been here once before—three months ago, when his brother, Luke, was in residence—he wouldn’t have been sure he was in the right place. He turned off the ignition and exited the car, hauled his leather weekender out of the backseat and made his way to the entrance where the caretaker was waiting for him.

The woman was dressed in a pale yellow straight skirt and a white sleeveless top, a canvas gimme cap decorated with a logo he didn’t recognize pulled low on her forehead. Coupled with her sunglasses, it was hard to tell what she looked like, but what he could see was pretty, in a wholesome kind of way. The ponytail hanging out of the cap’s opening was streaked dark blond, and she had some decent curves, so it wasn’t surprising that Matthias found himself comparing her to Kendall…and thinking how nice it would be if it was Kendall who was here to greet him instead. Not because he wanted to spend a month here with Kendall, of course, but because if Kendall was here, he could get a lot more work done, that was all.

“I assume you’re Mary?” he asked the woman by way of a greeting. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

She seemed to deflate a little when she got a good look at him, and only then did he realize she had seemed kind of expectant as he strode up the walk. Maybe she’d thought he was someone else, since his own appearance probably wasn’t easy to discern, either, thanks to his own sunglasses.

She nodded. “I’m the caretaker.” Without further ado, she extended a key that dangled from a rather elaborate key chain and added, “Here’s the key. Just leave it on the kitchen table at the end of the month. I’ve stocked the refrigerator and cabinets, and there’s some carryout from a local takeaway gourmet. But if it’s not to your taste or you’d like something specific, there are menus for some restaurants in Hunter’s Landing on top of the fridge. I can recommend Clearwater’s and the Lakeside Diner for sure. Or if you do the cooking thing, there’s a market just east of where you turned off to find the lodge.”

Her voice was soft but dispassionate, and she spoke as if she were reading from a script. And not very dramatically, at that. “Tahoe City is about a half hour north, the Nevada state line about twenty minutes east. If you want to gamble,” she added, as if wanting to clarify.

“Not like that,” Matthias told her. When he gambled, he liked for the stakes to be much higher than mere cash.

Mary nodded. “Would you like for me to show you around the place? Explain how everything works?”

“I assume it’s all pretty standard,” he replied. Not to mention he had no intention of seeing how anything worked. That way lay madness.

“Standard, yes,” Mary told him. “But there are quite a few amenities. Hot tub, Jacuzzi, gourmet kitchen, plasma TV…”

He held up a hand to stop her. He wasn’t the type to indulge in any of those things. He had too much work to do. “It won’t be necessary,” he told her. “Thanks, anyway.”

“Then, if you won’t be needing anything else?” she asked.

Well, there was nothing he needed that she could provide, anyway, he thought. So he told her, “Nothing, thanks.”

“Emergency numbers are on the fridge, too,” she said. “Including mine. Hopefully you won’t need them, either.”

She hesitated before leaving, studying Matthias’s face for a moment as if she were looking for something. Then, suddenly, she said, “Goodbye,” and turned to walk down the front steps. For the merest, most nebulous second, she seemed a little familiar somehow. He didn’t know if it was her walk, her voice, the way she carried herself or what, but there was…something about her that reminded him so much of someone else. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on who.

And then the impression was gone, as quickly as it had materialized. Mary was gone, too, having climbed back into her car and backed it out of the driveway. Matthias jingled the key in his hand absently, shrugged off his odd ruminations and turned to unlock the front door, closing it behind himself once he was inside. Out of habit, he tossed his battered leather weekender—the one he’d traveled with since college—onto the nearest piece of furniture. No small feat, that, since the place was huge, with a foyer the size of a Giants dugout, and the nearest piece of furniture was half a stadium away. He didn’t care if he knocked something over in the process. He was still pissed off at Hunter for making all of them rearrange their lives for a month to come here and do whatever the hell it was they were supposed to do.

But then, he was still pissed off at Hunter for dying, too.

Of course, if he were honest with himself, Matthias would have to admit that he was more pissed off at himself than anyone else. He hadn’t meant to lose touch with the Seven Samurai over the years. It had just…happened. Time happened. Distance happened. Work happened. Life happened. People grew up. They grew apart. They went their separate ways. Happened all the time. He and Hunter and the rest of them had all been kids when they’d made pacts and promises to stay friends forever. Hell, Matthias hadn’t even kept in touch with his own brother. Then again, when your brother did things like accusing you of cheating him in business and stealing your fiancée, it was understandable why you’d allow for some distance.

As soon as the thought formed in his head, Matthias pushed it away. He was being unfair to Luke. Really unfair this time, and not the phony-baloney unfairness of which his brother had always accused him. Their father hadn’t exactly been a proponent of fairness, anyway. He had pitted the two of them against each other from the day the twins were old enough to compete. Which, to the old man’s way of thinking, had been within seconds of their emerging from the womb. If there had been some way to make the boys vie for something against each other, Samuel Sullivan Barton found a way to do it. Who could win the most merit badges in Cub Scouts. Who could sell the most wrapping paper for the school fund-raiser. Who could score the most baskets, make the most touchdowns, pitch the best game. As children, they’d been more like rivals than brothers.

It had only gotten worse after their father’s death and the terms of his will had been made public. Samuel had decreed that whichever of the boys made a million dollars first, the estate would go to him in its entirety. Matthias had won. Though winning had been relative. Luke had accused him, unjustly, of cheating and hadn’t spoken to him for years. It hadn’t been until recently that the two men had shared anything. And then what they’d shared was Lauren Conover, the woman who’d agreed to be Matthias’s wife. It had been the ultimate competition for Luke…until he’d fallen in love with the prize. And although Matthias had come to terms with what had happened, things between him and his brother still weren’t exactly smooth. Or simple. Or settled.

Man, what was it about peoples’ last wills and testaments that they always sent Matthias’s life in a new direction?

He sighed as he leaned against the front door and drove his gaze around the lodge. In college, they’d said they wanted to build a cabin. But “cabin” evoked an image of a rustic, no-frills, crowded little shack in the woods with few amenities and even fewer comforts. This place was like something from Citizen Kane, had the movie been filmed in Technicolor. The great room ceiling soared up two stories, with expansive windows running the entire length of one wall, offering an incredible view of the lake. The pine paneling was polished to a honeyed sheen, the wide planked floors buffed to a satin finish. At one end of the room was a fireplace big enough to host the United Arab Emirates, a sofa and chairs clustered before it that, ironically, invited an intimate gathering of friends.

The place was exactly the sort of retreat Matthias would have expected Hunter to have. Handsomely furnished. Blissfully quiet. Generously outfitted. And yet there was something missing that prevented it from being completely comfortable. Something that Hunter had obviously forgotten to include, but Matthias couldn’t quite put his finger on what.

He pushed himself away from the door and made his way to where his weekender had landed—just shy of actually hitting the nearest piece of furniture he’d been aiming for. His footsteps echoed hollowly on the hardwood floor as he went, an auditory reminder of just how alone he would be while he was here. Matthias wasn’t used to traveling alone. Kendall had always come with him on business trips, and even though they’d naturally had separate quarters, he’d seen her virtually from sunup to sundown. Of course, this wasn’t, technically, a business trip. But he would have brought Kendall along, had she still been in his employ, because he would be working while he was here. And Kendall had been a big part of his work for five years.

Five years, he thought as he grabbed his bag and strode toward the stairs that led up to the second floor. In the scheme of things, it wasn’t such a long time. But it comprised the entirety of Kendall’s work life. He was the only employer she’d had since graduating. He’d been her first. Her only. He’d been the one who had introduced her to the ways of business, the one who’d taught her how to achieve the most satisfaction in what she did, the one who’d shown her which positions to take on things that would yield the most pleasurable results. And now, after he’d been the one to initiate her in all the intricacies of the working relationship, another employer had wooed her away.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Barton,” he muttered to himself as he climbed the stairs. “You’re talking about her like she’s an old lover.”

He waited for the laughter that was bound to come from entertaining a thought like that, but for some reason, it didn’t come. Instead, he was overcome by a strange kind of fatigue that made him want to blow off work for the rest of the day and instead go do something more—

The thought made him stop dead in his tracks, halfway up the stairs. Blow off work? Since when had he ever blown off work? For any reason? And how could anything be more than work? Work was everything. Talk about something that should have made him erupt into laughter.

But he didn’t laugh at that, either. Instead, he realized he’d left his laptop out in the trunk of the car. Worse, he realized that, even if he’d remembered to bring it in with him, he wasn’t completely sure how to get to all the files he needed to get to. That had always been Kendall’s job. Knowing how to pull up whatever needed pulling up and pulling it up for him. Hell, half the time, she’d taken care of whatever needed pulling and then pushed it back down again.

He was going to have to hire a temp for now, he told himself. Surely there was a temp agency close by. Tahoe City maybe. Too bad Kendall wasn’t here. She would have found just the right person, and she would have had the person here five minutes ago. But how hard could it be? he asked himself. He just needed to find the phone book, and he’d be good to go.

So where did people keep their phone books, anyway…

By the time she entered the bar of the Timber Lake Inn that evening, Kendall had accepted the fact that it, like everything else in the establishment, would be cozy. Sure enough, it was. Like the rest of the hotel, it was pine-paneled with hardwood floors and Native American rugs, but the lighting was lower than in the other public rooms, softer and more golden, and very… Well, there was just no way around it. Romantic.

Matthias was right. This wasn’t the sort of hotel any businessman in his right mind would use for business functions. Nevertheless, she was confident Stephen DeGallo had his reasons for using it. Besides trying to lull Kendall into a false sense of security, which Matthias had implied—hah—was the case. Or to lull her into anything else, either. For all she knew, the Timber Lake Inn was the only hotel in Lake Tahoe that had had any openings when Stephen scheduled the orientation. And the fact that Lake Tahoe itself was such a cozy, romantic destination that was kind of an odd choice for a business orientation had nothing to do with anything. It was centrally located, that was all.

She shook the thought almost literally out of her head and smoothed her hand one final time over the chocolate-brown trousers and cream-colored shirt she’d donned for the evening. Stephen had said the evening would be casual, and what she had on was casual attire. It was. Even if it was the same kind of thing she’d worn to work every day when she was with Matthias. Ah, working for Matthias, she quickly corrected herself. And the reason she’d wound her hair up into its usual workplace bun and put on her usual workplace glasses wasn’t because she was trying to overcompensate for the cozy, romantic environment. It wasn’t. It was because she just hadn’t felt like going to any trouble. She had low-maintenance hair. So sue her. And even though she didn’t need her glasses all the time, what with the low lighting and everything, she figured she’d need them.

So there.

She scanned the bar for a group of people who looked as if they were training for new careers, but saw only couples at a handful of tables here and there. Cozy couples. Romantic couples. In fact, one couple was being so romantic Kendall wanted to yell, “Jeez, people, get a room!” Glancing down at her watch, she realized she was a little early, so maybe she was the first member of the OmniTech orientation group to arrive. Then a movement in the corner of the room—the farthest corner—and the darkest corner, she couldn’t help noticing—caught her eye, and she realized it was Stephen DeGallo, waving at her.

She lifted a hand in return and made her way in that direction, picking her way through the tables as she looked around for anyone else who might be joining him. And somehow, she refrained from muttering, Jeez, people, get a room as she passed by the overly demonstrative couple. Nor did she toss a glass of ice water over them, which was another thought she hadn’t quite been able to quell.

“Kendall,” Stephen said warmly when she was within earshot. “Great to see you again. Glad you made it in one piece.”

“It’s great to be here, Stephen,” she said as she extended her hand in greeting. “Thanks again for giving me this opportunity. I’m very excited about working for OmniTech.”

He grasped her hand in both of his, not really shaking it, per se, just holding it for perhaps a moment longer than was necessary, something that made her think about Matthias’s warning again. Which she immediately pushed out of her brain. Stephen was just being friendly. And she was just being overly sensitive, thanks to Matthias’s ridiculous ideas about Stephen only wanting her because of her ties to Barton Limited. This was what happened when you were employed by a workaholic for so many years. You forgot that normal people could be casual and friendly, even in professional situations.

And Stephen’s smile did put Kendall immediately at ease. Although he wasn’t a handsome man, he was by no means unattractive. He was slim and fit, and was dressed according to his own edict—casually—in a pair of softly faded blue jeans and a white polo shirt. His blue eyes held intelligence and good humor, and his dark blond hair was just beginning to go gray, threaded here and there with bits of silver. What he lacked in handsomeness, he more than made up for in charisma. He was just one of those people who had a gift for taking charge of a situation without being overbearing, and making people feel better that he had.

Kendall had done her homework after his offer of employment, so she knew quite a bit about him. In many ways, he was as devoted to his company as Matthias was to Barton Limited, but where Matthias’s extracurricular and social activities all still seemed to involve his work, Stephen DeGallo was a man who enjoyed his leisure time. He was a champion yachtsman and active in a charitable foundation he had started ten years ago that mentored gifted, but underprivileged high school students.

He was not just a good businessman, but a good guy, Kendall had discovered. And her admiration of him was due to both.

She seated herself in the chair he held out for her, folding her elbows on the table and weaving her fingers lightly together. Then she gave him her most businesslike smile. “Am I the first to arrive?” she asked, even though the answer was obvious.

“Actually,” Stephen said as he folded himself into the chair opposite hers, “right now, you’re the only one who’s here.”

Kendall told herself she just imagined the note of vague discomfort she thought she heard in his voice. More of Matthias’s influence on her nerves, she was sure. Still, it was odd that no one else had arrived yet.

“Don’t tell me I’m the only one who got here on time,” she said.

“No, of course not,” he told her. “The others just aren’t scheduled to arrive until Wednesday.”

Wednesday? Kendall thought. That was two whole days away. “Oh,” she said, the word sounding more disappointed than she’d intended.

“The others are training for management positions,” he said by way of an explanation. “You’re the only VP candidate this time around. So I thought it would be nice if the two of us could have a couple of days where I could go over some of the policies and procedures that won’t be pertinent to everyone else’s training.”

That made sense, Kendall thought.

“But first, a drink,” he said, motioning to a waiter who had been hovering within range. “What would you like? I discovered a wonderful California pinot noir recently that’s absolutely delightful.”

“Thanks,” Kendall told him, “but I’ll just have a bottle of sparkling water.”

He threw her a look of mock effrontery. “But we’re celebrating your joining the OmniTech team,” he objected.

“Which is why I ordered sparkling water,” she said with a smile.

He smiled back, dipping his head forward in acknowledgment. “Then I’ll have the same,” he told the waiter. “Now then,” he added as their server departed, “I thought we could spend much of tonight talking about how—”

“Stephen DeGallo!”

Kendall flinched at the sound of the booming, all-too-familiar voice, but managed to otherwise keep her irritation in check. Well, enough that no one would notice it, anyway. Though she had to admit that Stephen didn’t look any happier about the interruption than she was. Nevertheless, good businessman—and guy—that he was, he smiled as he rose to greet Matthias. Kendall turned in her chair to acknowledge her former employer, but remained seated, hoping that small act of discourtesy would illustrate her pique in a way that wasn’t quite as impolite as other actions might have been. Actions like, oh…Kendall didn’t know. Tripping him as he strode past her to shake Stephen’s hand. Calling him a big poophead. Stuff like that.

She noticed Stephen didn’t grasp Matthias’s hand in both of his the way he had hers—in fact, he gave Matthias’s one, two, three firm, manly shakes and released it. Then again, Matthias was a rival, so naturally, Stephen’s greeting to him wouldn’t be as familiar as his to Kendall had been. Similarly, it was understandable why Stephen’s posture, too, with Matthias would be more assertive, more straightforward, more businesslike, than it had been with Kendall. Wouldn’t it?

Yeah. Sure. Of course.

“Matthias Barton,” Stephen greeted him. “Long time, no see. What have you been up to?”

“Besides competing with you for the Perkins contract?” Matthias replied. “Not much.”

Well, he’d recently lost his personal assistant of five years, Kendall thought irritably. Or so she’d heard. That was kind of major.

As if he’d read her mind, Matthias turned to her then and feigned tremendous surprise—though, Kendall thought, not very well.

“Why, Kendall Scarborough,” he said with overblown amazement. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since…” He pretended to search his memory banks—again, not exactly an Academy Award-winning performance—then snapped his fingers. “Since you gave me your two weeks’ notice to go work for some fly-by-night company.”

She sighed wearily. “Well, except for this afternoon in my room, when you offered me my job back.”

Now Stephen was the one to look surprised, Kendall noted. Only his was obviously genuine. Then he smiled, and looked at Matthias again. “Really?” he asked the other man.

Matthias looked a little uncomfortable now, and this time, he wasn’t pretending. “It was just a formality,” he said. “I always offer my exes the chance to come back, once they come to their senses and realize what a mistake they made, leaving Barton Limited.”

Kendall couldn’t prevent the snort of laughter that escaped her at that. Yeah, right. Matthias had the longest memory of anyone she’d ever met, and he never forgot a slight—real or imagined. If someone elected to leave the company for any reason, he had that person’s personnel file expunged within the hour, as if they never existed. And he certainly never went looking for that person to offer them an opportunity to return.

Not until this afternoon, anyway, she reminded herself.

But the only reason he’d come looking for her, she further told herself, was because he hadn’t known how to program his new BlackBerry. The offer to take her back had obviously been off-the-cuff, and had doubtless been extended for the same reason. He thought she was the only one who knew how to program one of those things. He didn’t realize anyone could do it for him. Well, anyone except Matthias Barton.

“Well, Barton,” Stephen said now, “had you appreciated Kendall’s possibilities, the way I do, then maybe you wouldn’t have lost her in the first place.”

Kendall started to smile at that, then stopped. Something about the way Stephen had said it made it sound kind of unprofessional. Just what had he meant by possibilities? That was kind of a strange word to use. Why not abilities? Or talents? Or expertise? Possibilities made it sound as though he considered her a blank slate or unformed mass that he could turn into whatever he wanted.

“I assure you, DeGallo,” Matthias replied, “that Kendall was one of my most prized possessions at Barton Limited. I hope you realize what an asset she’ll be to OmniTech.”

All right, Kendall thought. That did it. Forget about blank slates and unformed masses. Matthias had just made her sound like a new computer system. Possession? Asset? Just who did he think he was?

“Prized possession?” she echoed indignantly.

Matthias looked down at her and must have realized immediately from both her voice and her expression—and, most likely, the quick drop in temperature among the small group—what a colossal gaffe he’d just made. “Uh…” he began eloquently.

“If that’s the case,” she continued while he was still off balance, “then you better go over my operating instructions while you’re here. I wouldn’t want Stephen to think he acquired a defective machine.”

The look Matthias gave her then was almost convincingly distressed. Almost. “Kendall, that’s not—”

This time his words were cut off by Stephen’s light, good-natured laughter. “Sounds to me like she works just fine,” he said. “In fact, this particular model is promising to work better than I initially hoped.”

Matthias’s lips thinned at that. “Yeah, she’s a piece of work, all right,” he muttered.

She smiled sweetly. “And now I’m working for someone else.”

Matthias opened his mouth to respond, but this time was prevented by the arrival of their server, who placed tall sweaty glasses of mineral water in front of Kendall and Stephen. Then the waiter looked at Matthias and asked, “Will you be joining this party?”

Even Matthias, Kendall thought, wouldn’t be crass enough to crash her meeting with Stephen. And he didn’t. Instead, he told their server that no, he was on his own and didn’t want to interrupt anyone’s dinner, so would just take a seat at a table by himself. Then, even though there were at least a dozen empty tables in the restaurant, he pulled out a chair from the table immediately beside Kendall’s and Stephen’s, and seated himself without a care.

Unbelievable, Kendall thought. Evidently, Matthias was that crass, after all. If not in blatantly joining them, then certainly in doing his best to destroy any chance the two of them might have for speaking freely about her new obligations as vice president. There was no way Stephen would discuss the policies of his company in the presence of one of his competitors, even superficially. He confirmed that by shrugging philosophically when Kendall looked at him—not that she needed any confirmation.

So instead of talking about her new job over the course of dinner, Kendall and Stephen instead discussed superficialities like the weather, books, current events and a favorite TV show they had in common…with Matthias throwing in his own commentaries here and there, completely uninvited.

It was going to be a long orientation.

Four

The temp Matthias ordered from a Tahoe City agency—once he found the phone book after thirty minutes of looking for it—arrived promptly at eight o’clock the morning after his arrival. Unfortunately, he’d done something wrong when he tried to set his alarm clock the night before—no, the alarm clock was defective, that was the problem—because it was the ringing of the front doorbell that alerted him to the arrival of his early-morning appointment. Not Kendall, who would have normally alerted Matthias to that. Kendall, too, would have been infinitely less intrusive about her reminder than the doorbell was.

Damn, he thought as he looked groggily at the clock and realized it had stopped working completely. He lifted his watch from the nightstand and grimaced when he saw the time. He never slept this late. And he’d never been unprepared for an appointment. Shoving off the covers, he jackknifed into a sitting position and scrubbed both hands briskly over his face to rouse himself. He grabbed a plain white T-shirt from the bag he hadn’t even begun to unpack, shook it out quickly and thrust it over his head as he descended the stairs. And he thought dryly how lucky he was that it matched his sweatpants so well, otherwise he might have to be embarrassed about his attire. It was only as he was reaching for the doorknob that he realized he’d forgotten to put on shoes, so would be greeting his temporary employee barefoot. Somehow, though, he couldn’t quite rouse the wherewithal to care.

The young man on the other side of the door looked surprised by Matthias’s sudden appearance—and, doubtless, by his slovenly appearance—but quickly schooled his features into indifference. He obviously hadn’t overslept, because he was well-groomed and dressed impeccably in a pale gray suit and white dress shirt, his necktie the only spot of color on his person—if you could consider pale yellow a color. He was young, early twenties at most, his blond hair cut short, his gray eyes nearly the same color as his suit. He looked to Matthias like something from a middle school poster advertising Junior Achievement.

“Mr. Barton?” he said.

Matthias ran a quick hand through his dark hair to tame it as best he could. “Yeah, that’s me,” he replied. Quickly, he amended, “I mean, yes. I’m Matthias Barton.”

“William Denton,” he said, extending his hand. “From DayTimers. I’m your new temp.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Matthias said, holding up a hand. “I haven’t hired you yet.”

This was clearly news to young William. “But they said you need an assistant for the month you’ll be spending here in Hunter’s Landing,” he said.

“I do need an assistant for the month,” Matthias told him. “But I’m not going to take any Tom, Dick or William they send my way. I need to make sure you have all the qualifications I need for an assistant.”

Young William smiled confidently. “No worries there, Mr. Barton. Temping is just my summer job. I earned my BS from the Haas School of Business at UC Berkeley in May, and I’ll be returning in the fall to start work on my MBA. I’m more than qualified to take on this position.”

Matthias’s back went up at the kid’s presumption. “Are you?” he asked coolly.

William Denton’s confidence seemed to waver a bit. Nevertheless, he replied, “Yes. I am.” As an afterthought, he added, “Sir.”

Matthias nodded, settling his hands on his hips in challenge. They’d just see about that. Without even inviting William Denton into the lodge, he barked, “What are the major managerial and organizational challenges posed by electronic commerce?”

William Denton blinked as if a too-bright flash had gone off right in front of his eyes. “I…what?”

Matthias shook his head, sighed with much gusto, and asked, “All right, if that one’s too tough, then how about this. True or false. In the simple Ricardian model, trade between similar economies is unlikely to generate large gains from that trade.”

William Denton’s lips parted in response to that one, but no words emerged to answer the question. Until, finally, he said, “I…what?”

Man, Matthias thought, this guy was never going to amount to anything if he couldn’t answer the most obvious question in the world. “All right, here’s an easy one,” he said. “Multiple choice. The current ratio and quick ratio are the best indicators of a company’s what? A. liquidity, B. efficiency, C. profitability or D. growth rate.”

William Denton’s mouth began to work over that one—kind of—but his brain didn’t seem to be cooperating.

Matthias shook his head in disappointment. “I’m sorry, Mr. Denton, but I just don’t think you have what it takes to—”

“Wait!” he interrupted. “I know the answer to that one!”

“Unfortunately, your time is up,” Matthias told him. “Tell DayTimers I’ll be in touch.”

And with that, he pushed the front door closed and turned away. From the other side, William Denton called out, “A! It’s A! Liquidity! Right? Am I right?”

He was right, Matthias thought. But it was too little, too late. The person he hired as his assistant was going to have to be a quick thinker and unafraid to speak up, in addition to being knowledgeable and savvy. Like Kendall. William Denton just didn’t have what it took to fill her shoes.

Oh, well. Another candidate lacking even the most rudimentary business skills. Another interview shot to hell. Matthias would just have to look for someone else.

Padding barefoot to the kitchen, he absently pushed the button on the coffeemaker, then went to retrieve the phone book from the same cabinet where he had discovered it the day before. Bypassing DayTimers this time—since, if William Denton was the best they could do, they were obviously a fly-by-night operation—he selected the next agency on the list. After arranging for a prospective temp to come to the lodge later in the day, Matthias turned to pour himself a cup of coffee—

Only to discover that the carafe on the hot pad was empty. In fact, the hot pad wasn’t even hot. He was sure he’d filled the machine with both water and coffee the night before, but lifted the top, anyway, to make sure. Yep. Coffee on one side. Water on the other. Just like the directions said. He checked to make sure the machine was plugged in. Yep. It was. He made sure the cord was attached to the coffeemaker, as well, ensured that the light switch on the wall nearest the appliance was switched to the on position, in case that was necessary, inspected everything he could possibly inspect to see what the problem was. To no avail. He pushed the on button again. Nothing.

Dammit.

Matthias wasn’t one of those pathetic caffeine addicts who couldn’t function without their crack-of-dawn coffee and suffered ugly mood swings when denied. No way. But, like any civilized human being, he liked to enjoy a cup or two in the morning, maybe three if he had time, possibly four or five, if he had a meeting or something, and, okay maybe another jolt or two or three in the afternoon when he needed it. He didn’t have to have coffee. He just wanted it. A lot.

He stared at the coffeemaker intently, drumming his fingers irregularly on the countertop, willing the machine to work. With great deliberation, he pushed the on button again. Nada.

Damn. His gaze lit then on a short stack of papers he’d placed on the countertop the night before. It was the last assignment Kendall had completed before she’d tendered her resignation, a contract she’d typed up for an agreement between Barton Limited and a new consulting firm with whom he’d be doing limited business for the rest of the year. He smiled, and reached for the phone again, punching in a number he knew by heart.

“Kendall,” he said when she answered her cell phone. “It’s…” He started to say “Mr. Barton,” but halted. “Matthias,” he identified himself instead. “There’s a problem with the Donovan contract you typed up before you left. Can you spare a couple of hours this morning to go over it?” He listened to her objection, then said, “I realize that. But this is a problem you’re responsible for, one you need to rectify. And it’s urgent. When can you be here?” He grinned at her reply. “Good. I promise not to keep you any longer than I absolutely have to. And, Kendall,” he added before she had a chance to hang up, “I saw a coffee shop in town. Would you mind swinging by it on your way?”

Kendall stewed as she waited for Matthias to answer the doorbell she’d just rung, and switched the enormous cardboard cup of coffee from one hand to the other as it began to burn her fingers. It had been awkward, to say the least, explaining to Stephen DeGallo on her first official day of training why she needed to take part of the morning off. And although he hadn’t exactly been happy about the request, he’d told her to go ahead, that they could meet again after lunch.

Lunch, she thought now, that she should have been having with her new boss, not the one she’d left behind.

As if conjured by the thought, Matthias opened the door, smiling with what looked like profound relief when he saw her. She softened some at his expression, flattered that, in spite of everything, he still seemed to need her. It was always a nice feeling to have.

Then he reached for the massive cup of coffee in her hand, popped off the top and lifted it toward his face, inhaling deeply to enjoy a long, leisurely sniff. Carefully, he lifted it to his mouth and sipped, closing his eyes as he savored it. Then he opened them again, stared down into the dark brew and said, “Oh, God, that’s better.”

That was when Kendall realized it was the coffee for which he was grateful, not her. And she wondered again why she’d bothered.

Because she was conscientious about her work, she told herself. It had nothing to do with Matthias needing her. If there truly was a problem with the Donovan contract that was her fault, then it was, as he’d said, up to her to rectify it. Although she couldn’t imagine what she’d done wrong. She’d triple-and quadruple-checked the document before she’d given it to Matthias to look at. And why was he just now looking at it, anyway? she wondered. It was supposed to have gone back to Elliot Donovan two weeks ago.

And what was up with his appearance? she wondered further. Okay, she knew he was on vacation, but she’d never seen him looking like this. Here it was, almost ten o’clock in the morning, and he looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed. His black sweatpants were rumpled from sleep, as was the white V-neck T-shirt stretched taut enough across his chest that she could see the dark hair beneath—besides what was visible around the neckline. A day’s growth of beard shadowed his face, his dark hair was shaggy and uncombed and his brown eyes were hooded and soft. He looked…

Well, actually, Kendall thought as a coil of something warm and electric unwound in her belly, he looked kind of…hot.

No! Not hot! she immediately corrected herself. Slovenly. Yeah, that was it. Seeing him looking the way he did made her think of some lazy hedonist lolling in bed on a Sunday morning. Some dark-haired, sleepy-eyed pleasure monger, waking slowly and stretching his brawny arms high over his head, then smiling down at the woman lying next to him, who—Hey, how about that?—looked a lot like Kendall, then gliding a slow finger across my…I mean, her…naked shoulder, then leaning down to trace the same path with his mouth before rolling me…I mean, her…over onto her back and sliding his hand beneath the covers, down along my…I mean, her…naked torso and settling it between my…I mean, her…I mean…I mean…I mean…

She stifled a groan and stopped thinking about how Matthias looked. Until he lowered the cup of coffee again and ran his tongue along the seam of his lips to savor the lingering taste of it, wherein all Kendall could do was think about how it would feel to have his tongue running along the seam of her lips, too.

Oh. No.

The Donovan contract, she reminded herself. That was why she was here. Not for…anything else. “So, um…what’s the, uh…the problem with the, ah…the Donovan contract,” she finally got out.

For a moment, he looked at her as if he had no idea what she was talking about. Then, “Right,” he finally said. “Come on in.”

He stepped aside to let her enter, and as Kendall pushed past him, she tried not to notice how the fragrance of the coffee mingled with a scent that was distinctly Matthias, something spicy and woodsy whose source she’d never been able to identify. It was probably from the soap or shampoo that he used, though she’d never known another man to smell the way he did—or as good as he did. And smelling him again now, after being deprived for two weeks…

She sighed. What was the matter with her this morning? She was reacting to Matthias as if he were an old boyfriend she hadn’t been ready to break up with.

She reminded herself again that she was nothing more to him than a former employee, and that he was nothing more to her than a former employer. She’d come here because of a professional obligation, not a personal one. The sooner she fixed whatever she’d done wrong with the Donovan contract, the sooner she could get back to work. Her new work. At her new job. With her new boss. One who appreciated her business degree and knowledge. One to whom she owed the greater obligation now. Matthias was her past. No, Barton Limited was her past, she corrected herself. And OmniTech Solutions was her future.

Period.

She spun around as Matthias closed the front door. “What’s the problem?” she asked point blank.

Instead of answering her, he tilted his head toward the sweeping staircase behind him and said, “This way.”

She rankled at the order, but followed him, noting how beautiful the lodge was. Wow. Whoever’d furnished the place had great taste. And they knew a thing or two about making a home comfortable without making it too feminine. Although the colors were bold and the fabrics a little masculine, Kendall would have felt perfectly content staying here herself. And the view of the lake beyond the picture windows was spectacular.

She wondered again about the details of the bequest that required him to be here. It must have been a pretty major requirement to make him take an entire month away from the office. Especially in a place like Lake Tahoe, where there were so few corporate concerns, and no one she could think of that Barton Limited did business with. Then again, in the whole time she’d worked for him, she couldn’t remember him ever taking a vacation of more than a couple of days. So maybe it would do him good to be here for a month. Maybe he’d learn to relax a little. Realize there was more to life than work.

Yeah, right, she thought. And maybe the next World Wrestling champion would be named Stone Cold Sheldon Abernathy.

As her foot hit the stairway landing, her gaze lit on a photograph that was hanging there, and Matthias’s reasons for being in the lodge became clearer. Unable to stop herself, Kendall halted for a moment, smiling at the picture of the—she quickly counted—seven men, all college-aged, one of whom was obviously Matthias. But one was his twin brother, Luke, too, so she wasn’t sure, at first, which was which. Then she noted the way one of the boys’ smiles curled up a little more on one side than the other, and she knew, without question, it was Matthias. Interestingly, he was the one with the longer hair, and was the more raggedly dressed of the two. Funny, because Matthias had always talked about his brother as if Luke were the black sheep of the family, the rebel, the one who wanted to make waves. Looking at the photograph, however, it was Matthias who better fit that description.

“The contract is in the office,” she heard him say from some distance away.

Looking up, she saw that he had continued to the second floor and was striding down the hall without realizing she had stopped. “Hey!” she called after him, surprising herself. She’d never said Hey! to Matthias before. It had always been Excuse me, sir or Pardon me, Mr. Barton, something that had been in keeping with their relationship—which had always been fairly formal. It was just that, being here in this beautiful, comfortable lodge with him, seeing him in sweats and a T-shirt and finding a picture of him from his youth, formal was the last thing she felt.

He spun around at the summons, at first looking as surprised by the casual address as she’d been. Then he saw what she was looking at and…

Huh, she thought. She would have thought he would smile in much the same way as he was smiling in the photograph. Instead, he looked kind of annoyed. Probably because he didn’t want an employee—even a former one—seeing him as anything but the businessman that he was.

Well, tough, she retorted silently. If that was the case, he shouldn’t have made her drive down here. And he certainly shouldn’t have answered the door in his jammies.

He walked slowly back down the hall, and then the stairs, until he stood beside her, hooking his hands on his hips in a way that made him look very put out. “What?” he asked. Interestingly, he didn’t look at the picture, even though he had to realize that was why she’d called him back.

Unfortunately, she suddenly realized she wasn’t sure what she’d intended to say when she’d called him back. She’d mostly just wanted to look at him now and compare him to the boy in the photograph. So she pointed to the picture and said, “Who are these guys you’re with?”

It was with obvious reluctance that Matthias turned to look at the picture. He studied it for only a moment, then turned back to Kendall. “Friends from college. We called ourselves the Seven Samurai.”

“Akira Kurosawa fans, were you?” she asked, proud of herself for knowing the name of the director of the film made half a century ago.

“Actually, I think Hunter was the only one of us who even saw the movie. He’s the one who named us. God knows why.”

“Which one is Hunter?” Kendall asked.

With even more reluctance than before, Matthias lifted his hand and pointed at the young man who was laughing right at the camera. He looked the happiest of the bunch, and gave the impression, even on film, of being their ringleader.

“Where is he now?” Kendall asked.

Matthias hesitated a telling moment before revealing, “He died.”

Something hard and cold twisted in Kendall’s belly at hearing the flatness of Matthias’s voice. Even more than he sounded sad, he sounded…tired. As if the weight of his friend’s death was too much for him to bear.

“What happened?” she asked softly. “He was so young.”

“Melanoma,” he said. “This is his lodge, even though he never lived to see it completed.”

“I’m so sorry, Matthias,” she said quietly. Impulsively, she extended a hand and curled her fingers over his upper arm, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. His skin was warm beneath her fingers, solid, strong. But in that moment, he didn’t seem any of those things himself. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” she told him.

He shook his head. “Actually, since coming here, I’ve had one or two good memories,” he told her. “Things I’d forgotten about.” He did smile then, albeit sadly. Still, it was better to see that than the look of desolation that had clouded his features a moment ago.

She waited to see if he would elaborate on his memories, but he didn’t. And Kendall didn’t want to pry any further than she already had. Even if she was massively curious about the other young men in the picture. And even more curious about the young Matthias.

“So the rest of you will share the house now?” she asked.

“None of us owns the place,” he told her. “But each of us is spending a month here before it goes to its rightful owner. Which will be the town of Hunter’s Landing.”

Kendall smiled. She hadn’t made the connection until now. “So Hunter came from here? Or he’s named after the place?”

Matthias shook his head. “No, I think he just stumbled onto the town and liked that it shared his name. And since it was on the lake, he thought it was the perfect spot for the lodge. We’d all talked about doing something like this in college, building a big party house we’d share someday, but after graduation, we never followed through. We were all too busy,” he said, the last word sounding as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “Busy working,” he added, emphasizing that word in a way that was even less complimentary. Which was strange, since Matthias was the kind of man for whom busyness was one of the seven virtues and for whom work was sheer Nirvana. “Too busy working for useless things like following dreams,” he concluded softly.

His expression had gone soft, too, as he spoke, Kendall noticed, and when he turned away from the picture to look at her again, there was something in his eyes she’d never seen before. Melancholy. It was almost tangible.

“So do you still see the other Samurai?” she asked. “Besides your brother, I mean?”

Who, she had to admit, he hadn’t seen much of. It had only been a couple of months ago that the brothers had even spoken to each other after years of estrangement. And then only because Matthias had needed Luke to switch months at the cabin with him so he could take his trip to Stuttgart. It had been that or break the terms of the will, and Matthias hadn’t wanted to do that. Neither had Luke, which was the only reason he’d gone along with the switch. Ultimately, once everything with Lauren Conover had been smoothed out, the Barton brothers had renewed their relationship. But it was still, Kendall knew, a little strained at times.

Matthias looked at the picture again, seeming to take in each of the men one by one. “I haven’t seen any of them for years,” he said. “Though we’ll all be here for the dedication in September.”

“What dedication?” Kendall echoed.

He nodded, still looking at the photograph. “Once each of us has spent a month here, the house will go to the town, and I think the plan is to turn it into some kind of medical facility or something. Anyway, there’s going to be a big ceremony with the mayor and chamber of commerce or something. All of us will be here, too.”

She smiled. “Sounds like Hunter was a good guy.”

“The best,” Matthias immediately replied. “He was the very best of all of us.” This time, when he smiled, there was genuine warmth, and genuine happiness, in the gesture. Then the smile fell, and he grimaced a bit. “I’m sorry. I’m keeping you longer than I meant to.”

Actually, Kendall thought, she was the one who was holding up things by asking all these questions. She was the one who would make herself even later than she’d intended getting back to Stephen DeGallo. Funny, though, how she hadn’t given Stephen a thought since entering the lodge.

“Hey,” she said again when he started to turn away, more softly than she had the first time.

He spun around again. “What?”

She smiled and pointed to him in the photo. “You looked good with long hair.”

He looked at where she was pointing and asked, “Are you so sure that one’s me? It could be Luke.”

She shook her head. “No, I know it’s you.”

Now he crossed his arms over his chest, as if in challenge. “How do you know?”

She wasn’t about to tell him she knew him by his roguish smile. So she said, “I can tell by the twinkle in your eyes.”

Oh, bravo, Kendall, she congratulated herself. Telling him that was so much better than telling him you recognized him by his smile.

Matthias arched his eyebrows at the comment, his eyes… Oh, damn. They were twinkling. “Really?” he asked with much interest. Way more interest than he should be showing, actually.

“I mean…” Kendall started to backtrack.

But he wasn’t going to let her. “You think my eyes twinkle? Since when?”

“Well, since you were in college, anyway,” she hedged. She pointed at the photograph again. “Obviously.”

“No, I mean, since when did you notice it?” he asked.

If she were going to be honest, she would have to admit that she first noticed it when he interviewed her for the job. Naturally, she wouldn’t tell him that. “I don’t know,” she hedged again. “And really, it’s not like they twinkle a lot or anything.”

He smiled. “They must, if that’s how you knew it was me in the photo and not Luke.”

“Okay, I lied,” she said. “That’s not how I knew it was you in the picture.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.