The Business of Love

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The Business of Love Page 7

by Anna James


  He returned his attention back to her. “What, are you nuts? And lose a shot at getting his business? No way.”

  Wow. The man would sacrifice his relationship for a chance at winning a client? You couldn’t get more cold-hearted or calculating than that, in her opinion. Maybe James Kane had been right? “Fine, then I’ll see you tomorrow. It’s obvious you have other issues to deal with at the moment. Oh, and thanks for letting me know you’re back,” she added.

  His eyes narrowed. “We’re business partners, Sophia. I don’t owe you an explanation of why I went home. It was personal.”

  “You’re right, but as your business partner I had a right to expect a minimum amount of communication from you while you were away. For instance, you could have told me when or even if you’d planned to return to LA.”

  He let out a short, sharp laugh. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come back?”

  “Honestly, when you missed the Pepperdine and McCormick Foundation meetings, I wasn’t sure.”

  Bright color flooded his cheeks. “I, well—”

  She didn’t have time to waste while he made excuses. “Go back to networking, Dante. I have research to do.”

  Dante hesitated for a moment and then stepped around her and started toward the ballroom.

  She turned and strode away.

  “Going somewhere?” a deep voice drawled when she’d reached the hotel lobby.

  Would this night ever end? “Leave me alone, Malcolm.” Before she knew what was happening, he’d pulled her into an empty room and pinned her against the wall.

  “You think you’ve won because you got the Brown account back, don’t you? Well, you won’t be so lucky with McCormick or Pepperdine for that matter. They’re mine and don’t you forget it.”

  She’d love to prove him wrong, at least as far as the McCormick Foundation was concerned, and whip out the contract Mathew McCormick signed with Baker this afternoon, but decided now was not the time to gloat; besides, the Pepperdine account was still up for grabs. Instead, she squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Let go of me, Malcolm.”

  He pressed his body against her and sneered. “Make me.”

  She tried to jerk her knee up and shove it into his groin, but before she could move, he jammed himself against her thighs. At the same time he captured her flailing arms, rendering her immobile. His head lowered to hers. He was going to try to kiss her. The thought made her nauseous.

  His lips covered hers.

  She bit down hard.

  “What the hell—” Malcolm flung her away from him and lifted a finger to his bloody lip.

  Sophia hit the ground hard, stumbled to her feet and raced up the passageway into the atrium, practically bowling Dante over in her haste to get away.

  Dante caught up with Sophia in the lobby a few minutes later. “What the hell is going on? You almost knocked me over.”

  She shook her head.

  “Sophia—what’s wrong?”

  She dragged in deep gulps of air. “He tried… I didn’t want… He wouldn’t let me go.”

  “He who?” Dante laid his hands on her shoulders. Shudders racked her body. She peered up at him, her eyes wide with…fear? No. What did she have to be afraid of from him? Did she think he’d hurt her?

  “Let—me—go.”

  Dante dropped his hands. “What happened, Sophia?”

  “I just…” She sucked in another breath. “I just want to go home.” Tears filled her eyes and she scrubbed them away with the back of her hands.

  More games? he wondered. Maybe…or maybe not. He couldn’t be sure. Either way, he didn’t want to get mixed up in whatever was going on with her. “Fine, I’ll walk you to your car and you can get on your way.”

  “I don’t have a car,” she sobbed.

  Dante frowned. “Is the repair shop still fixing it?”

  “No.” More tears fell. “The insurance company totaled it and I haven’t had time to get a new one yet.” She grabbed the cell phone from inside her purse and tried to dial. The phone shook in her hand. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her fist tightened and she stabbed at the keypad again.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “A cab.”

  He sighed, took the phone and dropped it back into her pocketbook. He couldn’t leave her in this state. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

  She glared at him. “Don’t bother. I’ll get a taxi.”

  “I can have you home in less time than it will take for a cab to arrive here.” He watched for a moment while her desire to escape warred with her dislike of him. The desire to escape won.

  “Okay.”

  They made the short trip in silence and she leapt from the car when they arrived.

  “Thanks for the ride home.”

  He laughed. “You’re welcome.”

  Sophia closed the door and trudged to the front entrance. When the living room light flashed on he put the car in reverse and backed down the driveway.

  Her high-pitched scream had him slamming on the breaks, practically falling from the car and racing toward the house at top speed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sophia gazed, opened mouthed, around the room. Everything but the furniture had been stolen, as far as she could see.

  A groan coming from the next room had her bolting through the double doors. A crumpled form sprawled on the floor. She raced over.

  “Oh my God!” Allen’s still, pale body lay on the dining room floor, blood dripping from the side of his head. Please don’t let him be dead, please don’t let him be dead. She chanted the mantra over and over as her fingers searched for and, oh thank God, found a soft thud at the base of his neck.

  She peered up and found Dante by her side. “He’s a little out of it, but his pulse is steady.” She wiped the blood from the side of Allen’s head. “The wound isn’t deep, but we should probably get him to the hospital to be on the safe side.”

  Allen moaned again and batted Sophia’s hand away. “I’m fine. Did you catch the bastard who did this to me?”

  She shook her head. “The house was empty when I got here. What happened?”

  He tried to stand and then dropped down to a sitting position. “What the hell does it look like happened? I walked in in the middle of a robbery.” His eyes roamed around the room. “Damn. They got everything of value in here, too. I’d have stopped them if the one guy hadn’t jumped me.”

  Sophia fell back onto her bottom. “My God, you could have been killed.”

  Allen sneered. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  He tried to move again. She put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Stay still. You might have a concussion. Dante, can we use your car to take him to the hospital?”

  Before he answered, Allen shoved her aside and stood. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll find my own ride.”

  “But…”

  Allen turned and strode, unsteadily, toward the staircase.

  Sophia stood. “Where are you going?”

  He turned back and glared at her. “To get a few things before I leave. If you haven’t noticed yet, the place has been robbed.” He gestured around the room. “Dad’s entire art collection is gone. The alarm system isn’t working and I’m not staying here. It’s not safe.”

  “We’ve got to call the police.”

  Allen shrugged. “You’re in charge of the estate. You handle it.”

  When Allen disappeared Dante asked, “Allen lives here, too?”

  Sophia nodded. “He moved back in after the reading of Dad’s will.”

  Dante shook his head. “Has he always treated you so badly?”

  “No.” Sophia walked into the living room and dropped her tired bones onto the couch. It surprised her when Dante sat beside her. “We’ve never been friends, but we tolerated e
ach other over the years.”

  “When did things change?”

  She shrugged. “Right after my mother died.”

  “He assumed you’d live with a family relative on your mother’s side and became difficult when you didn’t?”

  Why was he asking her so many questions? She didn’t want to talk about any of this. It brought back too many bad memories and she’d had enough conflict for one evening.

  “Has it gotten worse since your father’s death?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes. Why the sudden interest in her? He’d made it clear it was business only between them and nothing personal. Come to think of it, what was he doing here at all?

  “You were barely eighteen when your mom passed. That would have been tough enough to deal with. You didn’t need Allen making your life more difficult. Was she ill? Your father never spoke of her.”

  She jumped up and strode toward the staircase. No way am I talking to you about her. She couldn’t. He wouldn’t understand.

  “Sophia.”

  She turned back to face him. “Don’t worry about it, Dante. We don’t do personal—remember?”

  “Oh, come on, Sophia.”

  Allen passed her on his way downstairs, gave her a speculative glance, then continued on his way. She jumped when the front door slammed shut.

  “Get your things. You can stay with me.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere.” Her whole body ached. All she wanted to do was go to sleep and forget everything that had happened this evening. Unfortunately, the oblivion she longed for wasn’t an option. She needed to contact the police, figure out what had been stolen, and there was the matter of developing a proposal for Lucas Morgan. She couldn’t go anywhere.

  “You heard Allen. It’s not safe to stay here. The alarm system isn’t working.”

  “I’ll lock the door.”

  “Damn it, Sophia. Why are you being so stubborn?”

  She let out a weary sigh. “I’m not being stubborn. I have work to do.”

  “You can prepare for the Morgan meeting at my house, where it’s safe, as easily as you can here.”

  You don’t get it, do you? She couldn’t handle any more fighting. “I’m staying put, Dante.”

  He growled. “Fine. I’ll stay here then.”

  “No!” Her head swam and her knees threatened to give way. She groped for the rail and gripped it tightly for support.

  “You leave me no choice.”

  His obstinate expression told her he wouldn’t be swayed and she didn’t have the energy to argue with him. Besides, what did it matter? The house was huge and she had other, more pressing things to deal with at the moment. “Suit yourself. You can sleep on the couch. Blankets and pillows are in the upstairs closet at the end of the hall. I’m going to change, then I’ll give David a call to see if he can put one of his investigators on this.”

  “What about the police?”

  She nodded. “I’ll call them, too, and the insurance company.”

  “Sophia?”

  She stopped again and turned back to face him. “What?”

  “About my absence…”

  Did he think she couldn’t put two and two together? It was pretty obvious why he’d gone home. He’d left the morning after their blow up. “You don’t need to explain. I—”

  “My father had a heart attack. I’ve spent the last week at the hospital. I came back as soon as I could.”

  He hadn’t left because of her? Which meant what? He wasn’t angry anymore? No, he was definitely still mad at her. He still wanted to run the company together? Possibly. His words finally registered. “A heart attack? Is he okay?”

  “He’s recovering.”

  Thank God. She may not like him, but still didn’t want him to suffer the loss of a parent. She knew that kind of grief all too well and wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy.

  “In any case, I—”

  He stopped in mid-sentence, snatched up his cell phone, said a few terse words and ended the call.

  “Is everything okay? Don’t worry about things here if you need to go back.”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing more I can do. My mother and brother are with him. They’ll call if he takes a turn for the worse.”

  Brother? She hadn’t known he had any siblings. He’d never told her. Then again, she hadn’t told him about her family either. They’d been too wrapped up in each other in those early days. Nothing and no one else had mattered. If only they’d taken the time to get to know each other, maybe things would have been different?

  “I’ll get started cleaning up down here while you get changed.” He shrugged out of his suit jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “You need help. And since your idiot brother has left, you’re stuck with me.”

  He was right. The house was a mess. It would take hours for her to straighten things on her own. “Okay, but we shouldn’t touch anything until after the police get here.”

  He nodded. “I’ll wait here for you.”

  Dante gazed around the room and found bare walls where once an eclectic collection of paintings had been displayed. He couldn’t remember the artists’ names, but it had struck him to see a classic Monet alongside an impression by a local artist. Gone too were the small assorted sculptures and antique china which had been kept in a handmade cabinet made by Gil’s father.

  Broken glass and picture frames littered the floor in the far corner of the room. Curious, he walked over to see what had been on display. Family photos lay strewn across the gleaming wood floors.

  He crouched down to get a better look. Images of Sophia, with her long, brown, curly hair thrown up in a haphazard ponytail, a big smile and bright green eyes stared up at him. Pictures of a grinning Gil. God, when had Gil ever been that young? The man he’d known for the last six years seemed old beyond his sixty-five years. What had happened to age him?

  A wedding picture of Gil and… He couldn’t remember Sophia’s mother’s name. Gil never mentioned her. Sophia hadn’t wanted to talk about her either. Why? Was she still grieving after all this time?

  Still more photos of the family. Allen and Sophia as children, a scowl plastered across Allen’s face. More pictures of Gil and Allen, Allen with Sophia’s mother, a family portrait. In every image Allen’s expression appeared the same. Remote. Distant. The man featured in the photos, the one who’d walked out a few minutes ago and left his sister to handle a huge mess, was not the person Dante had gotten to know over the years and not the façade Allen presented to their clients. Which Allen was real?

  He walked through the rest of the rooms on the ground level. All empty except for large pieces of furniture the thieves probably couldn’t move. They’d taken more than Gil’s art collection. How the hell had this happened? The state-of-the-art security system should have protected the house against break-ins. Why hadn’t the alarm sounded and a call automatically transmitted to the police? It didn’t make sense.

  He returned to the living room expecting to find Sophia but she wasn’t there. A quick glance at his watch confirmed she’d been gone more than thirty minutes. What could be keeping her? Maybe he should check and see?

  He climbed the stairs two at a time and strode to the door standing open at the end of the hall. She sat on her bed, her head bent over, something clenched in her hands. “Sophia?”

  She glanced up. Silent tears streamed down her face. Ah hell. What was he supposed to do now? “Hey… You okay?” Was that the best he had? Lord, how lame could he get?

  Sophia must have thought the same because she dropped her head in her hands and started to cry.

  The heart-wrenching sobs tore at his heart. He sat beside her on the bed, gathered her into his arms, and let her cry it out.

  For the first time h
e considered what she’d been going through over the past few months. The loss of her beloved father who she still grieved for, the daunting task of settling his estate, and if Allen’s behavior tonight was typical of the way he treated her, and he suspected it was, she had an antagonistic sibling to deal with as well. Not to mention taking over for her father and running the firm.

  Don’t forget the combative business partner, he derided silently.

  Combative didn’t quite cover it. Hostile would be more appropriate. But damn it, she’d lied to him. Toyed with his emotions. Hung him out to dry.

  No, that wasn’t right. It had been Barbara who’d used him as a scapegoat and hung him out to dry, not Sophia. Barbara Kane, daddy’s sweet, innocent little girl, had beguiled and bewitched him.

  And set him up to take the fall in an investment scandal that had almost ruined him. Barbara walked away scot-free, still the apple of her daddy’s eye. He’d been fired from Myer and Kane and blackballed in the financial community.

  He still marveled at how Gil Baker had taken him on when no one else would. If it hadn’t been for Gil, he might still be picking up the pieces of his train-wrecked career today.

  Sophia shifted and burrowed her head into his shoulder. The fresh, clean fragrance of her hair drifted past his nose. He pulled her closer. A hint of her perfume lingered in the air. No, not perfume. What had she called it? Body wash. Yes, lavender, or lilac… He couldn’t remember the name, only that the elixir teased his senses every time he came near her.

  His hands drifted over her bare arms, the skin smooth and supple beneath his palm. He bent his head and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

  She jerked up and stared at him, her eyes wide and questioning.

  Reality sunk in. What the hell was he doing? This was his business partner. Sure, they’d been involved, a long time ago, but he wasn’t going there. Not again.

  She eased away from him and peered down at whatever was clenched in her hands. “Sorry about that.”

  No, he was the sorry one. He should never have come in the house in the first place. It was business between them and nothing more. “No problem. What have you got there?”

 

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