Tossing the Caber (The Toss Trilogy)

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Tossing the Caber (The Toss Trilogy) Page 1

by Susan Craig




  TOSSING THE

  CABER

  TOSS TRILOGY BOOK ONE

  Susan Craig

  Ormerod House

  AUSTIN, TEXAS

  Copyright © 2013 by Susan Craig.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  Ormerod House

  P.O. Box 171263

  Austin, Texas 78717

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, or institutions is completely coincidental.

  Book Layout ©2013 BookDesignTemplates.com

  Ordering Information:

  Quantity sales. Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the “Special Sales Department” at the address above.

  Tossing the Caber/ Susan Craig. -- 1st ed.

  Dedicated to my parents, with gratitude for their love and support.

  CHAPTER ONE

  With a crash of brass against plaster, Diana’s office door hit the wall.

  Her heart kicked into high gear. In the doorway stood six foot four inches of angry, heavily muscled male.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the man demanded, and strode toward her polished mahogany desk.

  Logan Carmichael. With recognition, her alarm dissolved and for a fleeting second, she wondered what had upset the engineer. Then her spine straightened, ready for an argument. Lifting her chin, she looked beyond him to the frowning, gray-haired secretary fidgeting in the doorway. “It’s all right, Mildred. I’ll speak with Dr. Carmichael.” She flicked a glance toward the man planting his broad hands on her desktop. “And if the wall is damaged, he’ll pay for the repairs.”

  With a nod, Mildred pulled the door shut.

  Diana Lennox, sole owner and CEO of Lennox Incorporated, tilted her head against the back of her chair and focused a narrow gaze on the man before her. “Now, would you like to rephrase that question, Dr. Carmichael?”

  He glared at her. “I just heard you’re considering selling out to Carbon Unlimited. Is it true?” She could feel the heat radiating from his large body, and when she took a measured breath, it carried a faint scent of musk. Looming above her, he waited for a response.

  Muscles low in her belly tightened, but she ignored them. Despite the scowl on his face, she thought he looked more upset than angry. Too bad he’d forfeited her sympathy by trying to intimidate her.

  She rose without giving way to him. It brought them face-to-face and less than a foot apart. Looking him straight in the eye, she used the tension in her muscles to lend strength to the cold authority in her voice. “Sit down, please… Now.”

  For a long moment she waited, unmoving, as fire leapt in his eyes.

  Her own didn’t waver.

  Still glaring, he straightened, stepping back to one of the brown leather chairs. And Logan Carmichael sat.

  Diana maintained her rigid posture, but with her authority successfully asserted, the rigid set of her diaphragm eased. She allowed herself a moment to study the ex-Army engineer. His rugged face and military posture gave him the look of an ancient warrior—powerful, confident, and shaped from the bones of the earth.

  She felt the small beginnings of a purely female response to his imposing size and physique, but shut it down. This was business. Waiting for a change in his expression that would signal a return to civility, she saw his eyes relax.

  Good. It was time to see what this angry ancient warrior wanted. Her shoulders softened. She spoke in a cool, soft voice. “All right, Dr. Carmichael, tell me what made you toss professionalism aside and come barging in here like that.”

  “I told you. You’re thinking of selling out to the conglomerate.”

  Clearly, the rumor mill was efficient. Diana sat back down. “And if I am?”

  Carmichael’s face flushed with the intensity of his emotion. “And if you are, you’re turning your back on the five hundred-some people who work here.”

  As if she’d ever do that. But Carmichael hadn’t been with the company long. He didn’t know her. Diana glanced briefly at the papers on her desk, and permitted a small, slightly superior smile. She may as well add some accurate information to the rumors. “As it happens, you couldn’t be more wrong. I have Carbon Unlimited’s offer right here, and I find it to be more than fair.

  “They guarantee the jobs of all employees until our current manufacturing contracts expire.” The smile vanished as she leaned forward, her hands resting on the edge of her desk. “It took me six years of hard work, networking, and negotiation to put this company back in the black and attract such a favorable offer.”

  The sitting giant shoved a thick-fingered hand through his hair and leaned forward himself. His right hand fisted, cradled in the left, and his wilted business shirt strained across muscles too pronounced to be completely civilized. “You can’t do it.”

  “I not only can, I intend to.” She frowned at him, puzzled. “Why do you care? You’ve only been working here a month.”

  Thick caramel lashes flicked down and then lifted. “I’ve developed a new process for carbon rod pultrusion and I don’t want Carbon Unlimited to have it.”

  He had great shoulders. Odd to find the brain of an engineer in a body with shoulders like that, but how could he have a new process? “You were hired as a production engineer, Dr. Carmichael, not to do R and D. Did you develop this idea on my time, with company resources?”

  His eyes blazed again and his head drew back. “No. I developed the details while serving overseas.”

  Diana let his resentment bounce off her calm facade. “Why haven’t you mentioned it before?”

  He shifted in his seat. “I wanted to get to know the company… and the management… before I said anything.”

  Diana nodded in acceptance of the explanation. “Well, if your process is any good, you should have no problem finding someone to fund further development.” She stroked the smooth surface of her silver pen, considering. “I understand your concern and can assure you I don’t feel I have any ethical right to interfere with your ownership of the idea. If you’re afraid I’ll change my mind, or that Carbon Unlimited will try to claim it, have your lawyer draw up an intellectual property agreement assigning the innovations solely to you. I’ll be happy to sign it.”

  He stared at her, disoriented. Diana savored the moment. She had cleanly undercut his righteous indignation. Regally she rose, knowing he would follow. “Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

  He stood, but instead of leaving, stepped toward her. Her hormones went on high alert, but she gave him the enquiring glance of a queen.

  “Ms. Lennox.” Now his deep voice seemed pitched to persuade, rather than intimidate. “I apologize for crashing in here like that. Please reconsider.” He stood with those massive shoulders relaxed, powerful hands at ease by his thighs.

  Diana pulled her gaze back to his face.

  “I don’t want to sell this process to the highest bidder. I want to own it, and I want to own the company that uses it.” He frowned slightly. “I had hoped to have a
bit more time before approaching you, but the bottom line is this—I want to buy your company myself.”

  Diana’s eyebrows rose as her head tilted forward. “You want to—?”

  “I know you’re busy now,” he continued, cutting her off. “Meet me for dinner tonight—please—and do me the courtesy of looking at my proposal.” He took one long step back. “I’ll be at the Yorktowne, in the Commonwealth Room at seven.” He pivoted and left the room, closing the heavy walnut door behind him before she could frame a response.

  Diana stared a moment, mouth agape. Of all the nerve.

  As if he could—

  If he thought—

  Then she shut her mouth, smiling ruefully. Tempting as the thought was, it would be petty to stand him up. Besides, as far as she was concerned, their business was over, and the man looked good both coming and going. He was well worth running her eyes over for an hour or so. Not that he was her type—or she his—but still… Once again her lips curved upwards.

  Sitting down, she picked up the contract awaiting her signature. When she signed it, the responsibility for the employees of Lennox Incorporated, which had fallen on her when her father died, would lift from her shoulders.

  Freedom. The thought was intoxicating. She pushed aside guilty worries about the fate of her older employees—people who had been with Lennox from the beginning. Stop it. You’ve done well for them.

  It was true, she knew. Most would have six months or more to either find new positions or prove their worth to the new owners. She had driven a hard bargain on their behalf.

  Someone else could have the headaches—and the office, with its old-fashioned wood-sashed windows and institutional green paint. Even the ornate gilt frames hanging undusted on the wall deserved better than the uninspired artwork they presented.

  She grimaced. No, missing this place would not be a problem, but signing the papers could wait one more day. She set aside the contract, absently fingering the collar of her white silk shirt. Having dinner at the best restaurant in York was not a bad way to end a long week, and sharing the table with Dr. Carmichael and his warrior shoulders was a very minor annoyance indeed. I’ll enjoy a good meal, hear the man out, and be on my way.

  On the ground floor of Lennox Incorporated, Logan thrust open the main doors and stormed out of the aging brick building. Damn stupid woman.

  He slammed the door of his battered SUV, jammed his key in the ignition and twisted the engine into life. And damn stupid me, for bursting into her office like that. It put him at a disadvantage…gave her a reason to enjoy turning down his offer.

  No. He powered the Jeep Cherokee out of the parking lot and onto the narrow road running past Lennox Incorporated. That isn’t going to happen.

  Logan turned the SUV towards town. He hadn’t been happy to have to deal with a woman in the first place. Not prejudice, just personal experience being screwed over by man-eating career women. So he’d dug up some intel on her.

  Diana Lennox had been running Lennox Incorporated for the last six years—ever since her parents’ death in a car crash. By all accounts she was a good CEO, eliciting both loyalty and productivity from her employees. He’d noticed she seldom took suggestions, just listening politely before doing what she damn well pleased. He smiled to himself. The woman knew how to run a company, he’d give her that.

  Her factory met his requirements, and she was looking to sell—those facts had far outweighed his reluctance to deal with a female. Besides, there’d been no hint she was more than just another career-driven gender-neutral CEO. At the office, she wore conservative power suits and confined her thick raven-colored hair in an elegant twist. Classy, yes. Provocative, definitely not.

  So he hadn’t been ready for the sexual punch her response to his challenge had carried.

  She faced me down without turning a hair. Didn’t give so much as an inch. Just stared at me, cold as stone with those big brown eyes of hers. Nobody said anything about her being a man-eater, but damn, she made me hot. He’d been sorely tempted to wipe that cool look off her face with a hard kiss. Call me insane, I almost think I should have.

  He gave his head a quick shake and smiled. “Definitely insane.” Reaching Cumberland Road, he turned the Jeep towards the tiny, run-down farm that was his only inheritance. Strange that she should affect him that way. She was the kind of woman he normally avoided. Not my type at all. He sure as hell hadn’t expected their confrontation to rip through him like a lightning bolt—even if only for a second. His response had been primitive and surprising, reflecting an aspect of his personality he usually had under complete control.

  Easing his foot off the accelerator for a moment, he let the SUV drift closer to the posted speed limit. The feelings she aroused in him didn’t fit the picture he’d formed of her. It intrigued him…she intrigued him.

  “Enough of that.” His information had obviously been incomplete.

  As far as he was concerned, the way she’d backed him down told the whole story. Now he knew what he was dealing with. Ms. Cold Chill Lennox was a no-holds-barred, game-playing professional woman. He was certain she wouldn’t hesitate to break a man’s heart or steal his soul if it advanced her career. He knew the type. Females like her couldn’t be trusted. A sane man stayed well clear of them.

  Pulling into the front yard of his dilapidated white frame farmhouse, Logan stopped the Jeep. Thinking back to the scene in the office, he winced, remembering how it had ended—his conciliatory tone and precipitous retreat. No matter. Don’t waste time worrying about early skirmishes. The real battle comes tonight.

  If he read Ms. Diana Lennox correctly, being elegant and well-bred was her stock in trade. She wouldn’t stand him up. When he presented his proposal, he’d see to it that she took it seriously. I’ll find a way to buy this company yet, he told himself. And any games that get played will be by my rules.

  CHAPTER TWO

  She’ll be here—relax. She’ll be here.

  In a grey pinstripe suit, crisp white shirt, and tie, Logan sat facing the entrance to the Commonwealth Room of the historic Yorktowne hotel and waved away the waiter who wanted to bring him a drink. He leaned back in his chair, the better to appear relaxed and in control.

  It was a lie. Diana Lennox was late.

  She’ll be here.

  He’d left her office without giving her a chance to respond to his request for a meeting. Maybe he should have waited—

  No. She’ll be here.

  The mingled scents of starched linen, fine food, and subtle perfume combined to make him feel outclassed and undercapitalized. Well, maybe I am—but his biggest problem was Ms. CEO Lennox. She had no real interest in selling her company to him. Why should she? She already held an exceptional offer from Carbon Unlimited; one she had worked hard to get.

  Only the discipline he’d developed in the Army allowed him to sit, apparently at ease, and wait without fidgeting or looking at his watch. Instead, he let his gaze wander around the room. The setting would fit her. The hotel was a veritable landmark, an old-fashioned showplace with intricate eight-inch baseboards, pillared walls, and magnificent crystal chandeliers suspended from high arched ceilings. Conservative. Elegant. Expensive.

  She’ll be here.

  He focused on the arguments he planned to make. She’d mentioned that Carbon Unlimited would retain her employees—for a while. He could better that—he’d keep them all, period. But that would only help if she actually cared. Pain flashed briefly, and he winced. He’d had his own first hand lessons in how little people mattered to career women. He should focus on the money, and the prestige of leading the field. That might impress her—especially if he agreed to keep the company name unchanged.

  His gaze moved again to the entryway.

  Hah! I knew she’d come.

  Her business suit had been replaced by a soft black dress and jacket. Conservative. Elegant. Expensive. Exactly what he’d expected. He watched her follow the maître d’ toward him. She moved with a sway an
d a sigh of silk, her glossy black hair loose and tumbling over her shoulders.

  Warmth feathered across his skin. She looks like seduction… elegant, subtle seduction. Ruthlessly, he negated his body’s response. It’s all part of the game to her. She probably made me wait deliberately—to give herself an edge when we negotiate… If we negotiate. There was no guarantee she would even listen with an open mind.

  When she reached the table, he rose, dismissing the maître d’ with a look, and seated her across from him. He caught a whisper of scent that reminded him of summer—sweet-scented air, splashing streams, and blooming flowers.

  Crushing a desire to lean forward and take a deeper breath, he pushed in her chair and sat down. Stay on target, Carmichael. No entanglements, no collateral damage. Just work the deal. “Would you like a drink, Ms. Lennox?”

  “I don’t drink during business meetings.” She turned to the approaching waiter. “I’d like sparkling water with a twist of lemon, the Yorktowne house salad, and the roast venison.”

  The waiter turned to Logan. “And you, sir?”

  “I’ll have beef tenderloin and a Caesar salad, with…water.” He could really use a drink now, but it would be smarter to follow her lead.

  As the waiter left, Logan smiled. It was time to turn on the charm. “Venison? I’d have expected chicken or fish, not wild game.”

  When she tilted her head, laughing quietly, his gaze locked on her mouth. The full, soft lips were lightly glossed.

  He wondered how she would taste, and felt a predatory awareness of her slim form. Let’s not go there. Stay clear—her kind are dangerous. He realized she was speaking and pulled his attention back to her words.

  “… that chauvinistic viewpoint, but at any other restaurant in town you’d likely be correct. The truth is I can’t resist the incredible chestnut puree that comes with the venison here.”

 

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