by Susan Craig
“Good morning, Logan” Diana began speaking immediately, her voice tight and cold. “I’ve put together some numbers to give you an idea of the financial obligation you would be taking on if you purchase a company like Lennox.” She offered him a copy of the papers on her desk.
As he reached for them, their fingers brushed—he felt the heat of it even as her hand jerked back. Apparently she wasn’t as indifferent to him as she sounded.
Moving to the same leather chair as last time, he sat down to look over the figures. The size of the debt he’d be incurring made his breath catch in his throat. If things didn’t go as planned he’d be broke, and paying back a loan this size would bankrupt him for the rest of his life. He’d have to find an investor willing to share the risk—to take a loss if the new process failed. He needed an angel. That would cost him a bunch on the profit side he knew. But there was no choice. He sat straighter in his chair and looked at Diana.
“It may take me some time to find the right investor for this, but my offer to buy the company stands. Are you willing to wait on the offer from Carbon Unlimited?”
She gave him a chilly smile. “Unfortunately, I can’t do that. They want an answer by Friday or the deal will be withdrawn.”
Logan’s jaw clenched. She had dragged him in here just to smash his dream. Anger rose like a red haze in front of his eyes, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing him react to her nasty little game. He gripped the arms of the chair and concentrated on staying seated.
“But I may have a solution to your financial problem.”
She was toying with him—he knew it. He refused to look relieved, hardening his face into an emotionless mask. But he couldn’t stop himself from tilting his head in inquiry.
“I am willing to back your purchase myself, out of my personal resources, as an angel capital investor. These are the terms I’m comfortable with.” She offered him a second set of sheets.
It’s a trap. Well, spring it and be damned. He stood and took the sheets from her hand. The short, unvarnished nails raised a bubble of doubt about her status as a man-eater, but he popped it. She wanted him under her thumb. Heaven alone knew why, but it wasn‘t out of the goodness of her heart, that much was certain.
He sat to peruse the terms she offered, wincing inwardly at the interest rate she expected. It was painful, but he had to admit it was fair given the gamble she took. The tension in his body began to ease. He was surprised to see all of the details looked agreeable, except…
“Fifty-one percent.” Logan shot to his feet. “You want to retain fifty-one percent interest in the company until the loan’s paid off? And keep executive power as well? Didn’t I make it clear I intend to purchase this company? I prefer to be the one running things.”
“You made it clear.” The lush lips compressed as she lifted her chin. “But those are my terms. I will not leave my employees’ livelihood in the hands of an engineer with no business background. It would be irresponsible to do so.”
“Absolutely unworkable.” He spun toward the windows, pacing, hands fisting as he shook his head “I have to run to you to explain and get approval of every change I propose to make? It’ll slow me down too much. It’ll make the payment deadlines impossible to meet.” He whirled back to face her. “Is that your intent?”
“No, that is not my intent.” A red stain crept up her cheeks. “You are going to have your hands full with the conversion. There will be time enough to learn the ropes of managing the business afterwards. I don’t intend to slow you down or to undermine your authority. I intend to make this transition successful.” Her eyebrows arched. “But, perhaps you have some managerial experience that I am not aware of?”
Logan seethed with frustration. “No, I don’t, but how hard can it be? I know exactly what needs to be done to improve the manufacturing process.”
She remained seated and watched him with steady brown eyes. “Entrepreneurial Myth.”
“What?”
“The notion that expert knowledge of a process or product is sufficient to successfully run a business—E-Myth for short. Google it. There are probably hundreds of books and articles on the subject.” Leaning forward, she enunciated clearly, tapping the desktop for emphasis. “I am going to continue running the company while you make your conversion. Then we’ll see about gradually switching the reins into your hands.”
Damn the woman. She knew she held all the cards. Logan resumed his pacing. This was his baby, not hers. So what if she had more experience and expertise? He was a fast learner, and he didn’t delegate his responsibilities to anyone else. Shoving his fingers through his thick hair, he turned back toward her. “OK. You say you’re concerned about your people. How about this? You retain the fifty-one percent and we meet weekly to review how things are progressing. You can oversee my management without being onsite all day, every day, can’t you? After all, our styles are likely to be very different and I’m not foolish enough to think you’ll be an easy act to follow. It will only make it harder for me to succeed if you’re here all the time.”
He felt her eyes on him as he returned to his chair.
She studied him a moment. “That might be acceptable, as long as things go well. But if any major problems arise, I will step back in…regardless of how you feel about it.”
Yeah, that’s what you think. “That’s a non-issue as far as I’m concerned. There won’t be any problems large enough to warrant your interference.”
“So you say. Are we in agreement then?”
“Yes, I suppose we are.” Pain in the ass.
“Good. I’ll note the changes, you can take a look, and we’ll be finished.” She picked up her pen and began making notes on her copy of the terms, while her fingertips toyed with the collar of her blue silk shirt.
Logan leaned back in his chair, watching her. The woman was tough. He’d expected that, but was surprised to find himself, grudgingly, admiring it as well. She’d have her fifty-one percent, but he was going to push the conversions, pay off the damn loan and get her out of his hair as quickly as possible. Well, out of his company at least.
The thing that bothered him—besides her chocolate brown eyes and distractingly kissable mouth—was that she’d proposed to back his use of the company and equipment for the next two years out of her personal assets. It felt too generous. It brought a personal element into their business deal, and could give her more power in their relationship than he liked. Logan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers, scratching his chin with his thumb. It made him uncomfortable. The deal was a gamble on both sides. She knew it, yet she hadn’t struck him as a gambler.
What was on her agenda? Logan had learned long ago that women, especially career women, couldn’t be trusted. Of course, she was taking considerably less risk than he was. He would be living off his savings for the interim, funneling the CEO salary back into the changes he needed to make. The quicker he could get production of the new rods moving, the more stable his financial position would be, and the greater his chances for success. And if things didn’t go as planned, he’d pay back her loan anyway—whatever the cost. He had no intention of owing any woman anything. Ever.
She didn’t know that, and never would if all went as planned. He alone knew a failure with Lennox Incorporated could destroy his dream of business ownership for good. And because success was so important, he needed to know why she was being so cooperative.
He took inventory of what he could see—raven-dark hair, delicate skin, full lips and surprisingly capable-looking hands. He pictured her again as she’d looked silhouetted against the sunset and desire stirred in his gut. He compared the woman in his mind with the one sitting in front of him now, intent on the notes she was writing. The instincts that had served him so well in the Army kicked in.
She had two sides to her. The classy gender-neutral CEO, and that made-for-sex body he’d seen. He’d been with her kind of female before—classy and untouchable looking, but
all heat and fire underneath. They used both sides to get what they wanted. A man just had to know going in that any tender emotions they exhibited were only for show. It was all a game to them. Hell, he’d enjoy going a few rounds with Ms. Diana Lennox. And this time he was no unsuspecting kid. No, this time, he’d be the one to call the shots. I’ll see her out of my company and into my bed—dangerous or not.
Diana stopped writing and gathered the papers. She stood, and offered him the sheet she’d been writing on. “Have I captured the modification accurately?”
He stood and scanned the page. “Yes.”
“Fine, then. I’ll have Mildred type up these notes and in a few days my attorneys should have the contracts ready for us to sign.”
He stepped aside to allow her to precede him to the door and caught the drift of her scent as she passed. She smelled deceptively sweet and innocent, but he knew better. Quickly, he reached out and touched her shoulder. “Diana.”
She paused and turned, tilting her head a bit to meet his eyes.
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
Her eyes widened, then a small furrow formed between her brows.
“I’ve heard the food at the Homestead Inn is extraordinary.” He knew she wasn’t unaffected by him. He stepped inside her personal space, using the nearness of his body to make it clear the invitation was more than just business. “Won’t you join me to celebrate our agreement?”
She looked confused for a moment, then, shifting her gaze to the lapel of his suit, she bobbed her head. “Yes, all right, I can do that. She took a quick step back, and he thought she was going to change her mind. “I have quite a few items I’d planned to complete today… She hesitated.
“I understand. How about I pick you up here, say six o’clock?” Good move.
She waited a moment, then nodded again without meeting his eyes and stepping away from him, hurried through the door to the outer office.
Logan watched her go; fascinated in spite of himself by the way she became skittish when he got close. It didn’t fit the picture he’d formed—didn’t add up. She had one damn good act.
Tonight he’d find out what made Ms. Diana Lennox tick. Once he knew, he’d be able to handle any maneuvers she tried to pull. Satisfied with his plans, he followed her from the room.
CHAPTER FIVE
He was gone, at last. Back in the privacy of her office, Diana slouched low in her chair and leaned back her head, relieved. He hadn’t mentioned the debacle Saturday afternoon. The tension that held her shoulders rigid all morning relaxed a bit. One hurdle was past. Now if she could just restrain her response to him…
The way he moved, with pent-up energy always threatening to break free from control, had strung out her nerves on a fine wire of arousal. He used his hands as he talked, and watching the wide-palms and blunt-tipped fingers, she kept imagining how they would feel caressing her skin. Only years of executive experience had saved her from letting her distraction show, and allowed her to bring their negotiations to closure without embarrassing herself further.
Even with the distraction, she had still been keenly aware of his response to her proposal. He’d been very wary. So… it was distrust that she had sensed hiding in him that night at the Yorktowne. But why? There was no reason for him not to trust her. It didn’t bode well for their business arrangement. Fortunately, she knew her own skills would be sufficient to keep matters even-handed between them. One didn’t survive six years as CEO, even of a small company like Lennox, without learning how to work with all types of people—including those who were difficult. No, she wasn’t worried about Dr. Carmichael’s attitude. She could handle him.
But, could she handle her own attraction to the man? That remains to be seen, and soon. What had she been thinking, agreeing to have dinner with him? I’m afraid I let his shoulders cloud my judgment. But pride prevented backing out now.
Besides, he was new in town. Perhaps he wanted to go out and didn’t feel like going alone. She understood not wanting to be alone. I’m sure I’m not at all his type.
Pulling a file of reports from the drawer, she straightened her chair and got back to work. Let’s see how converting one line to his process will affect our production rates…
The afternoon flew by productively. At five forty-five, the timer on Diana’s cell phone went off. She jumped to attention. It was time to set aside the report she’d been reading and freshen up. She pulled open the desk drawer and snapped up her purse. A quick check in the small mirror from her make-up bag, a light touch of mascara—Slow down. Relax—and fresh color for her lips. She pressed her mouth shut to keep from nibbling the gloss off, as her unsteady hands unpinned the neat twist and fluffed the hair out.
Someone knocked on the office door. Diana shoved pins and comb into her purse. She took a deep breath and exhaled. Then she walked steadily over and opened the door. Logan stood there, waiting. Hoping he wouldn’t notice her heart pounding, she allowed him to steer her to the parking lot and his SUV. He opened the door of the derelict vehicle.
Diana hid her initial dismay—I am so overdressed for this—and climbed into the seat, careful not to scuff her pumps on the rust below the door or scrape her legs on the loose bit of piping at the edge of the seat. At least it was clean. Thank goodness I took my hair down.
I can’t believe I am doing this. Going to dinner—again—with Logan Carmichael. The first time had been business, of course. He’d wanted her to look at his proposal. She had, it was good, and they’d made the deal. But why had he asked her to join him tonight?
A man like him deserved success. He’d have it, she knew, and eventually a partner—a woman as bold and unafraid as he was. Not someone like her. Her catalog of flaws was legion. Thanks to Mom and Dad, I know that.
Being with Logan was an amazement. Being visible to a man like him, his being willing to spend time with her outside of business, put a tingle in her blood like champagne running through her veins. Naturally, it would be absurd to expect the feeling to be mutual. He was just looking for company. She’d felt the need for simple companionship many times, and understood.
Resigned to the way things were, Diana leaned back in the seat as he came around the Jeep and climbed in. The interior was hot from the sun.
“Do you mind if we leave the windows open? My AC is on the blink.” He turned toward her. “Here, let me help you off with your jacket.”
If she thought he had any interest in her as a woman, she’d have wondered if the broken air conditioning was a ploy. The cut of her suit jacket, like all the business wear she owned, was designed to camouflage her breasts—to avoid inappropriate distraction. As Logan’s wide hands reached out, her shoulders began to hunch, protecting her corporate armor. Stop that. He isn’t looking for anything more than company, and tonight isn’t business. She forced her shoulders to relax.
Nevertheless, her heart rate bumped up another notch. Nervousness and uncertainty threatened to swamp her. She had no script for this. What was her role here?
The voice of her mother’s constant disapproval echoed in her head—‘Diana, please try not to be so embarrassingly gauche.’ She didn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of this man.
Just be friendly. She leaned forward as he pulled the suit jacket off her arms. The blunt tips of his fingers slid down the sleeves of her blouse, leaving a trail of heat behind. Her whole body tightened in response and heat raced over her skin. Maybe the role of friend wouldn’t be so easy to play.
Glancing toward him, she caught a look in his eyes that was so purely male it took her breath away. She yanked her gaze away, staring down at the small slice of knee exposed by her conservative skirt. Her thighs were tingling, as her mind imagined heated embraces, silken caresses, and... With a mental gasp, she pulled her thoughts back in line. She must have misread his glance—she was here to be a friend. Friendly. Find a friendly thing to say.
“How was your afternoon?” Ouch! So trite!
“Busy.”
&nb
sp; In contrast to her tension, he seemed totally at ease. It wasn’t fair.
“I took Spud to the vet and painted the shed behind my house.”
The mundane response reassured Diana. “So you adopted him. Is he working out for you?”
“Working out? He’s a dog, not a business deal. I adopted him and now he has a new home—a home for the rest of his life.” He shook his head abruptly and tossed a grin her way. “Sorry, I don’t mean to climb on my soapbox. It’s just that I feel strongly about people living up to the responsibilities they take on—whether to a spouse, a child, or even a pet.
“Yes, he’s a good old dog, and he’s starting to perk up a bit. I think he was just lonely. He likes my couch—so much so that I may have to get him one of his own.” He smiled and glanced her way. “So, did you get a traffic ticket?”
“What?”
“A traffic ticket…for parking, probably? You don’t look like the type to drive over the limit.”
“I’m sorry.” Diana frowned and tried to determine how she had been left behind. “I’m just not tracking this conversation.”
“The shelter. Community service?” He smiled helpfully. “Isn’t that why you were there?”