She smiled self-consciously. “Okay. But, only for a second.”
He grinned in return. “I want you to take me home for a visit with your father.”
She stared at him in silence. “Why?”
“The Enoki electronics deal.”
“I can’t force my family to make a deal with you.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“I only own five percent of the company, Derek. And I’ve been a silent partner all my life.”
“All I want is a chance to talk to your father. Outside of the office, in a casual setting. You just have to pretend we’re friends.”
“Friends?”
“I know it’s a stretch.”
“It’s not that,” she said.
“Then, what is it?”
“I would never, ever compromise my family for personal gain.”
“You’re not compromising anybody. It’s a good deal for them, too.”
Her expression turned suspicious. “Then why do you need my help?”
“Because I know they won’t hear me out. Not after I blocked his rezoning application last year.”
“That was you?”
Derek felt a flicker of hope. “He doesn’t know it was me?”
“I’m sure he knows it was you. But I never pay attention to that stuff.”
Derek’s momentary optimism died. “Right. So you can see what I’m up against.”
She sat back in her chair. “How does that saying go? You’ve made your bed…”
“All I’m asking you to do is help me fluff the pillows.”
“I’m your decorator, not your housekeeper.”
“This will be good for both of us. Way it works is, Hammond Electronics won the contract to supply Enoki Communications with hardware for their three hundred Far-East outlets.”
“Telling me about the deal isn’t going to help.”
Derek frowned. That made no sense. Understanding the deal was everything. “I’m explaining how it’ll be good for your family.”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“How can it not matter? What I want to propose is a partnership. Reeves-DuCarter International owns a spectrum license in Asia. If Hammond Electronics and Reeves-DuCarter can agree on a set of specifications instead of supplying a generic, we can set up a network and become a real player in the wireless market, long-term. If they interface with our equipment, they’ll end up with a proprietary market share.”
Her eyes started to glaze over.
“Candy?”
“I’m not helping you swing a deal with my father.”
“I’m not asking you to help me swing a deal. I’m asking for an introduction.” Derek paused. “An introduction, a dinner and you get a dream renovation.”
“By selling out my family.”
Derek threw up his hands. “You’re not selling out anybody. Haven’t you been listening to a word I said? All I want is the introduction. I’ll take it from there. If they say no, they say no.”
Candice straightened, and a calculating smile grew on her face. “Okay. I’ll make you a deal.”
Oh, great. Why did he get the feeling he was going to get duped again?
Don’t think about her missing underwear.
Her hand went to her stomach. “I’m starving. You throw in another dinner, and I’ll introduce you to my father.” She started to write something down on a new napkin.
Dinner?
All she wanted was dinner?
He could do dinner. He’d do a hundred dinners.
But, wait a minute. That was too easy. He eyed up her complacent expression. She got dinner thrown into the bargain? Well, he wanted a little quid pro quo….
“Okay,” he countered, covering her hand to stop her from writing. “I’ll throw in dinner, and several million dollars, if you’ll seal the deal with a kiss instead of a napkin.”
“You won’t give it to me in writing?”
“I’m a man of my word.”
She stared at his lips for a minute, blinking uncertainly.
“I’ll make it easy,” he said, worried about her hesitation, not wanting to blow everything on a technicality. “I’ll make the dinner. You rank it on a scale of zero to ten. I get one kiss for every point.”
Her eyes went round. “Deal.”
She couldn’t get the word out fast enough. And her incredulous expression told Derek he’d just lost the kiss.
But he’d gained the introduction. And, he would have made dinner anyway.
4
IT WAS REALLY TOO BAD she had to give it a zero, because this was one of the best meals of Candice’s life.
Derek had spent a good half hour setting out a fresh tablecloth, china, silverware and candles. He’d dimmed the lights, and the sky had cooperated by giving them a gorgeous sunset followed by a rising full moon.
He’d barred Candice from the kitchen while he cooked.
Then, he’d produced crab-stuffed mushrooms, grilled salmon in béarnaise sauce, saffron rice and asparagus. And he’d obviously raided the high end of the wine cellar. She was going to remind the chef tomorrow morning to keep plenty of Andollin chardonnay on hand. It was magnificent.
“I can’t believe Tyler’s left us here this long.” At this rate, she’d be able to talk to the chef before she went home for a shower.
“I can,” said Derek.
“Is he that vindictive?”
“Stubborn, not vindictive. Besides, he probably forgot about us a long time ago.”
“Oh, those newlyweds.” Candice shook her head in mock disapproval.
“And, he did accomplish his objective.”
“How so?”
Derek lifted his wineglass in a toast. “We’re not going to fight on the job site anymore and upset Jenna.”
“That’s because you won’t be on the job site anymore.”
“I may drop in from time to time.”
“But, not to give advice.” She wanted to be clear on that.
He made a zipping motion across his mouth.
Candice’s gaze caught and held on his firm lips. It was really too bad she had to give dinner a zero. They looked incredibly kissable.
She took a final bite of the salmon and the smooth-textured sauce.
All things considered, a zero was a pretty harsh score. After all, he’d gone to a whole lot of trouble. And, this would—her gaze found his lips again—in all likelihood, be her one and only chance.
Okay, so she had kissed him once before. If you could count that fleeting peck in the Tunnel of Love. She didn’t know who had been more surprised then. Her at the unexpected arc of attraction, or him at what was obviously a sudden recognition of the Hammond name.
Having somehow figured out he was about to make out with the daughter of his archenemy, he’d bounced back faster than a burn reflex. No real kissing had been accomplished. But it had sure been interesting.
Maybe now was the time to finish the job.
Maybe she should give him a one.
She took another sip of the crisp white wine while she thought about it. “We probably won’t see much of each other after tonight,” she ventured.
“You still have to introduce me to your family,” he reminded her.
“Right. Of course.” She was guaranteed to see him at least one more time. Though, she could hardly kiss him in front of her parents.
So there it was.
She should go for a one.
She took a bite of the saffron rice, noting that the spicing was absolutely perfect. Maybe a two. One point for the salmon and one for the rice.
Of course, the wine deserved something, too. This was a tough call.
“I won’t let you back out on the introduction,” he said.
“I’m an honorable woman.”
“That’s good to know.”
Even if she was going to grossly underscore his meal.
She took a bite of the asparagus. It was tender, slightly crisp, and perfectly co
mplemented by the sauce. She really had to give it a point.
That was three. Or was it four?
Four kisses.
She let her vision blur on the candle flame. Four kisses was the very least she owed him. What could it hurt? It wasn’t like she was kissing him out of passion or desire. It was only a business deal.
Besides, they’d be out of here tomorrow morning. And, after that, there was one chaste dinner at her parents’ house, and he’d be pretty much out of her life.
The thought depressed her slightly.
Which was silly. All they ever did was argue.
“Ready for dessert?” he asked.
Candice blinked out of her contemplation. “Sure. What did you make?”
“Crème brûlée.” He stood up to head for the kitchen.
Uh-oh. She had the feeling that another kiss was coming up.
That made five. She took a bracing sip of wine while she watched him walk away.
Five kisses. Fifty percent. Somehow, fifty percent seemed churlish. He’d worked awfully hard.
Derek returned from the kitchen, a small bowl of crème brûlée in each hand. He bent at the waist and set the dessert down in front of her, arranging the bowl just so. He gave her a knowing grin, holding her gaze. He was all but daring her to give him a zero for the dessert.
She pulled back before she did something stupid like tell him his score and dive right in. “Thank you,” she said instead, gesturing to the bowl.
“Hope you enjoy it.” There was a twinkle in his eyes.
“I’m sure—” She pressed her lips together. He’d nearly backed her into a corner, admitting the dessert was good before she’d even tasted it. “Nice try.”
Derek’s grin widened. “It’s my mother’s favorite recipe.”
“That’s nice.”
“If you don’t like it, she’ll be crushed.”
“Foul.” She couldn’t help but return his grin. One point. That was all the dessert was getting. She didn’t care whose mother would be disappointed.
“There are seconds if you want them.” He finally drew back a little.
“I’m sure this’ll be fine.”
“Oh. It’ll be more than fine.” He slipped back into his own chair and picked up a silver spoon.
Candice dipped hers into the smooth cream. She lifted a small bite to her mouth. She tested it with the tip of her tongue and was catapulted to another level of flavor.
“Holy…” She raised her fingers to her lips.
“What did I tell you?”
Candice stared down at the simple dessert. “How did she…”
“Family secret,” said Derek. “Enjoy.”
Candice took another bite. There was no way in the world she could give the crème brûlée less than full marks. Which made six kisses. A trill of excitement tightened her chest. Good thing she’d had enough wine to see her through this.
“She used to make it on Christmas Day,” Derek continued. “The neighbors would come from miles around to join us for dessert.”
“I don’t blame them,” said Candice, finishing every last morsel.
“Seconds?” asked Derek.
“Wish I could.” She shook her head.
He leaned back in his chair, taking up his wineglass. “So?”
“What?” She faked confusion.
“How many points are we talking?”
“You took a big chance on this.”
“I had a secret weapon.”
“The crème brûlée?”
He shook his head. “Your honor.”
“I could give you a zero.”
“You could.”
But she wouldn’t. Now that she’d made up her mind, she intended to do it right. Besides, the expression on his face was going to be worth it. She loved shooting him curveballs.
“Zero to ten,” Derek said softly, taking a slow sip of the chardonnay.
Candice squared her shoulders. “Ten.”
TEN?
Derek nearly choked on the wine, inhaling half liquid, half air. He’d hoped for a one, maybe a two. He couldn’t have heard her properly.
“Ten?” he parroted.
Her eyebrows rose. “What? Am I calling your bluff?”
Not hardly. He just couldn’t believe she was serious.
“Deal’s a deal, Derek.”
This had to be a joke. He silently scrutinized her expression. There had to be a catch. “I don’t get it.”
She reached for the pen and a fresh napkin, and scrawled the number ten, large and bold, holding it up in front of the candle. “Does it help to have it in writing?”
Yeah. It did.
Derek slowly rose from his chair, still on guard for the punch line. “Ten kisses?”
She looked him straight in the eyes. “Right.”
He pointed back and forth. “You and me.”
There was a challenge in her nod. “Uh-huh.”
“What’s the catch?”
She rose to face him, pushing the armchair out of the way. “No catch.”
“But we fight.”
“I guess we’re making up.”
He stopped mere inches away, close enough that he could smell her wildflower shampoo, feel the heat from her body, appreciate the texture of her smooth skin. She was stunningly gorgeous, sexy as hell and he was suddenly afraid that fighting with her might have been a defense mechanism.
“This is going to change things between us,” he warned.
Her green eyes danced. “Maybe. Depends on the kisses.”
His eyebrows shot up. “That a dare, Candy?”
“It’s a fact, Derek.”
“Talk about pressure.”
“I hear you work well under pressure.”
She did, did she?
Filling his lungs, Derek slid his palm across her cheek, cupping her face as he took a step forward, snaking the other arm around her slim waist. “As a matter of fact, I work great under pressure.”
He dipped toward her mouth, puckered and touched his lips to hers. The first kiss was gentle. At least, it started out gentle. And he managed to keep it that way for all of five seconds.
But then her lips unexpectedly parted, and he tasted the sweetness of her mouth—a shot of ambrosia that ignited his blood and sent a sharp flash of desire coursing the length of his legs.
He pulled her flush against his hips and tunneled his fingers back into her hair. It was soft and fragrant. Her curves were supple, and the essence of her bombarded his senses.
He went straight to kiss number two, or maybe they were still on one. Did it count when he took a breath? Their lips hadn’t exactly parted.
He slipped his hand beneath the jacket—a warm cocoon of silky dress and tuxedo lining. He wished he could crawl in after it. As his hand brushed the curve of her buttocks, he remembered the missing panties. His arousal jacked up another degree.
When her hands tentatively touched his shoulders, the city lights blended into a laser show behind his eyes. His body hardened. The hand at the small of her back convulsed, pressing her soft stomach against the hardness of his arousal.
She didn’t resist. She melted. Her lips parted farther, and he slipped his tongue inside. A murmur sounded in her throat, fueling his passion as her tongue responded to his coaxing.
The oxygen left his body. The room dimmed, and he felt the outer sections of his brain shut down. Nothing existed except the taste, the scent, the softness of Candy. He kept on kissing, wider, harder, arching her back.
The hands on his shoulders tightened, each fingertip sending individual shock waves into his body. All those weeks, all those months of verbal sparring, testing the limits, intellectual foreplay. He had no idea how he’d made it this long without kissing her properly.
The candlelight wavered. The scent of the melting wax blended with her perfume. The sound of his own heartbeat roared in his ears. And he couldn’t get enough of her taste. He opened wider, delved deeper, pulled her more tightly against him.
Her fingertips inched across the nape of his neck. She tipped her head to one side, moaning his name against his mouth.
And he wrapped his arms fully around her, lifting her from the floor. Her dress slipped up, and his fingertips contacted heat from her bare thighs. Sensation slammed through his body with the force of a tidal wave. The point of no return shimmered on the horizon.
Through sheer force of will, he broke the kiss, setting her gently to her feet as he drew back. Her jewel-bright eyes were glazed, her pupils slightly dilated. Their deep breathing synchronized as they stared at each other in disbelief.
Her tongue flicked out to test her swollen lips.
“One,” she whispered.
Derek’s hands slid up and closed convulsively around her rib cage, his thumbs just beneath her breasts. He couldn’t decide whether to hold her away or pull her back. His voice was a hoarse whisper that seemed stuck in his chest. “We’ve got trouble.”
She wrapped her fingers around his biceps, coming up on her toes, her voice smooth and as rich as the crème brûlée. “Derek, we’ve had trouble from the second we met.”
He had to agree with her there.
He took a deep breath, made a totally self-indulgent decision, and leaned in for another kiss. This one was harder and hungrier than the first. His thumbs teased the undersides of her breasts, itching to make their way up to her coral nipples.
Kissing, he reminded himself. The deal was for kissing only.
Even if it was damn near orgasmic kissing.
She tasted of sweet cream and smelled like wild-flowers. Her lips were soft and moist and welcoming, and her lithe body fit to the cradle of his thighs.
He moved his lips to her neck, making his way along her smooth shoulder, tasting her skin, testing, inhaling until he made it to the bare tip.
The dress slipped an inch, and the top of her creamy white breasts were exposed to his view. He straightened, staring for a moment. Then he closed his eyes against the torture, resting his forehead against hers, drawing in deep, desperate breaths.
She shifted, and he felt her lips on his neck, soft, butterfly-light touches that had the power to scorch his soul. Her tongue brushed his sensitive skin, and his thumbs crept inexorably up the undersides of her breasts.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing her face in the crook. Her sweet, hot breath fanned his skin, and he gritted his teeth to keep from tearing off her clothes.
High Stakes Page 5