She knew that the offer was not strong enough. But they had little choice. No bank would give them a loan. Their homes were their only collateral, and if the mill failed, their homes and land would be worthless.
So why would Axon Enterprises agree to such a scheme?
Once again she questioned their decision to go forward. Had Hunter been right? Would they have been better off just quietly accepting the severance?
Perhaps. But Cassie couldn’t shake the feeling that they still had a chance of saving their company. For, despite what she had heard about Hunter Axon’s ruthlessness, she had seen other qualities in him as well. She was almost certain that beneath the veneer of invulnerability was the man she had seen the first night they met: sensitive, protective and caring.
But were her personal feelings affecting her perception?
As much as she hated to admit it, she still felt a connection to him. She was certain she always would. After all, he was the first man with whom she had made love. And nothing would ever change that.
The driver slowed down. Cassie suddenly realized they were not at an office, but a home. As they approached, the iron gates at the end of the driveway swung open.
They drove down the long, curving drive. The house, invisible from the road, loomed ahead. It was exactly what she had imagined—a rambling Spanish-style mansion that, with its manicured grounds, resembled a country club.
She half expected to see the flurry of activity that was typical of great estates: gardeners, maids and butlers rushing around. But there was none of that. In fact, it seemed serenely quiet and deserted. Cassie stepped out of the limousine as the front door opened. Instead of a uniformed butler, a plain-faced, middle-aged woman in jeans and a T-shirt stood at the doorway and smiled. “Come on in,” she said. “Mr. Axon is out back.”
Cassie paused inside the cavernous entrance. Huge oil paintings, two stories high, filled the foyer. A large sweeping staircase straight from Tara wrapped its way toward the sky.
Cassie followed the woman through the French doors at the far end of the hall and out to the patio.
It was a view out of a magazine. Lush green acres rolling down to a white sandy beach and the green water of the Atlantic. Off to the right, stone lions guarded an infinity swimming pool.
Hunter was sitting at a table on the veranda, his back toward her.
He glanced up as Cassie approached.
“Hello, Mr. Axon,” she said.
The term “Mr. Axon” brought a slight smile to his face. He stood up and held out his hand. He didn’t look as if he was dressed for a business meeting. The brown hair that had been slicked back in Shanville was curly and natural. He was wearing an outfit similar to the one he had worn their first night together, a soft linen shirt tucked into linen pants. “Miss Edwards.”
She took his hand. Once again he held it as though he wasn’t about to let go. And part of her wished he wouldn’t. She gave herself a mental slap. Focus. She pulled away. “Where is everyone?”
“You mean the board?”
She nodded.
“We have to go to them.” Still looking at her, he asked, “Are you ready?”
She nodded. “I hope so.”
“Good.” He nodded toward the setting sun. “I had hoped to do it today, but because of the delay in your arrival, I bumped it to tomorrow morning.”
Which left…the night. And she had not made hotel reservations. As if reading her mind, he said, “I took the liberty of making reservations for you at a hotel around the corner. I think you’ll find it has all the amenities you need.”
And she had no doubt it cost a fortune, as well. She had investigated all the hotels on her last visit. Nothing was as inexpensive as the Barter Hotel.
“Thank you,” she said, “But I prefer the hotel I stayed in the last time.”
“Ah,” he said. “The Barter Hotel by any chance?”
She nodded. How did he know that?
“It’s closed temporarily.”
“But I was just there.”
“They’re renovating.”
“Oh,” she said, disappointed.
“Of course, you’re welcome to stay here. I have several guest rooms.”
She shook her head. “No. No, thank you.”
He nodded. She could see a twinkle in his eyes. Was he teasing her?
“In that case,” he said, glancing at his watch, “I’ll see you to the car.”
“I’m leaving?”
When he paused, she glanced away. What was wrong with her? She had sounded disappointed, as if she had wanted to stay with him. For good reason. As much as she hated to admit it, she was disappointed.
“I’m afraid I have dinner plans this evening.”
His news took her breath away. Dinner plans? With whom?
She tried to ignore the jealousy ripping through her heart. What did she expect? She was not dating him. She had merely slept with him. But if he had dinner plans, why would he invite her to spend the night?
Was he willing to go out to dinner with another woman and return home to sleep with her?
“Unfortunately it’s an engagement I cannot cancel,” he said, turning away as if dismissing her.
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” she said coldly. Hmph! What did she care if he had a date? He was free to see whomever he liked.
Right? Right!
The thin veneer of anger could not hide the deep well of despair.
But she was not allowed to feel despair. Nor was she allowed to feel territorial. She barely knew Hunter.
She swallowed her emotions as he led her through the house and back to the limo, where the driver stood outside her door, waiting. Hunter said, “I hope you enjoy your stay at the hotel. Everything is taken care of, so feel free to order anything you like from the room service menu.”
“That’s not necessary,” she said. “I have my own money.”
“My company has a suite of rooms at the hotel, permanently reserved for visitors,” he said. “We have never charged a guest.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well then, thank you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he said, slamming her door.
Hours later Hunter was once again staring out over the water. He shook his head as he remembered the expression on his comptroller’s face at dinner when he had informed him that he was thinking about selling the mill to its employees. “Are you crazy?” the man had asked.
Hunter had not seen the offer, but he knew it would not be titillating enough to convince his staff. After all, the risk was so significant no bank would finance the loan. There was no way the workers could afford to offer him enough to make it worth his while.
“So why?” the comptroller had asked. “Why would you even consider this?”
Hunter had not answered his question. After all, what could he say? That he was smitten with one of the women who wanted to buy it? It seemed ridiculous. He barely knew Cassie.
But the mere thought of her was enough to bring a smile to his lips. He remembered the way she had walked into his office, her arms crossed, her beautiful face turned up in defiance. She had been wearing her work attire as if to remind him of who she was: Cassie Edwards, factory worker. What she didn’t realize was that he didn’t care whether she was a photographer or a factory worker. He was not impressed by fancy titles and clothes. Even external beauty rarely moved him. His attraction to Cassie was based on something else, something he couldn’t define. A quality or qualities that, when put together, made her the most intriguing woman he had ever met.
But was that reason enough to give her what she wanted?
No. Intellectually he knew that selling the workers back the mill would be a mistake. But he had to consider it. He couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Cassie, a woman he barely knew. But was she worth the risk?
He needed another opinion. So tomorrow he would take Cassie to his board. And if his board approved, well then, so be it. Regardless of his future with Cassie, he wou
ld give her what she wanted.
Eight
Cassie brushed the bread crumbs off her skirt as she stared out the limousine window. She usually skipped breakfast, but today she had made an exception. She was presenting her offer to Hunter’s board and she certainly didn’t want her stomach growling in the middle of the presentation.
But her stomach was tied in such knots that she found it almost impossible to eat the large breakfast that had appeared at her door that morning, “Compliments of Mr. Axon.” She had choked down a piece of toast and swallowed a few sips of coffee before heading out the door.
She tapped her fingers nervously on her legs. She had hardly slept the night before and she was certain she looked as tired as she felt. She had stayed up, tossing and turning, her mind going a million miles a minute.
She had every reason to be nervous. After all, she had never given a business presentation before. She did not know what to expect.
As much as she wished that that alone was responsible for her insomnia, the truth of the matter lay elsewhere. She didn’t want to admit it, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Hunter. How could he have invited her to spend the night at his house when he had a dinner date with someone else?
Was he trying to make her jealous? She doubted it. If he felt anything for her at all, it was lust, plain and simple.
But what did she care? So their one-night stand had turned into just that. That was what she had intended, right?
But she had not expected to see him again. She had expected to return home with a beautiful memory of a kind and gentle man. And now that she knew who he was…well, the beautiful memory had turned into an embarrassment. Instead of feeling grateful for the time they shared, she felt guilty. It was as if she had done something wrong. Something illicit. And she had. Instead of protecting her friends from Hunter Axon, she had slept with him.
And for some terrible reason, she wanted to do it again.
Ugh. What was wrong with her? How could she even think such a thing?
The limousine stopped at a red light. Cassie glanced out the window. They were approaching Hunter’s estate. She swallowed and stared at the beautiful palm trees lining both sides of the street. Suddenly something caught her eye. It was a brightly colored bird, unlike any she had ever seen before.
She instinctively reached for her camera, but for the first time she could remember, her camera was not there. She had purposely not brought it. She was pretending to be a corporate executive, and an executive would not walk into a meeting with a camera slung around her neck.
Cassie’s stomach growled. She patted it and sighed. It was hopeless.
As they approached the entrance to Hunter’s estate, the iron gates swung open once again and the limousine drove down the long, narrow driveway. The driver stopped in front of Hunter’s house and hurried out to open her door.
Cassie stepped out of the limousine and, after thanking her driver, clutched her folder against her chest and strode up the steps. Just as she was raising her hand to knock, the door opened.
The woman who had answered the door the day before appeared in front of her. She greeted Cassie pleasantly and once again led her through the house and out the back. Hunter was outside, talking on the phone.
He was not dressed as she might have expected. He was wearing the most casual outfit he had worn so far: khaki Bermuda shorts and a short-sleeved linen shirt.
What was going on? “Is the meeting canceled?” she asked.
“No,” he said. Perhaps it did not matter what he wore. After all, he was the boss. And maybe the dress code for professionals in the Bahamas was different from in the States.
If that was the case, then once again she was dressed inappropriately. She was wearing a vintage suit she had found at a flea market—a simple cotton skirt and a sleeveless silk blouse topped by a tight-fitting cotton blazer.
As the heat crept up her cheeks, Hunter smiled sweetly, putting her fears to rest. “You look nice.”
She couldn’t help but appreciate the gesture. “Thanks,” she said.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s go.” With that, he turned and began to walk toward the water.
“Isn’t the car that way?” she asked, motioning behind her.
“Yes,” he said, continuing to walk.
She hurried to catch up with him. “I don’t understand.”
“We’re traveling by boat,” he said, nodding toward the cigarette boat in front of them.
“A boat?” Now she really was confused. “I just assumed we were going to your office.”
“We’re meeting at an island offshore,” he said, jumping aboard. Like his yacht, the boat looked brand-new. Hunter said, “You might want to take those shoes off. And, uh, the stockings as well.”
She just looked at him. The stockings?
As if reading her mind, he shrugged and said, “You’re welcome to keep them on if you like but this deck is slick. I know you wouldn’t want to end up in the water before your presentation.”
She glanced down. How in the world would she get her panty hose off? Was it possible to do it and somehow keep her dignity? No. She’d just have to take her chances.
“It’s all right,” she said. She held on to the rail and hopped on. The minute her feet hit the deck of the boat she felt them give way. In that split second she knew that Hunter had been right. It was no time for a swim.
But before she hit the water, he grabbed her. He swung her around as if she were no heavier than a feather. He held her close. Looking in her eyes he said, “You might want to reconsider your decision.”
“My decision?” she murmured. What decision was he referring to? Her decision to spend the night alone in a hotel room when she could’ve been snuggled up next to him?
He leaned forward, and for a split second she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead he righted her and, glancing at her panty hose, said, “You can take them off below if you prefer.”
She nodded. He slowly removed his hands. As he turned the key in the ignition, she went below, where she took off her panty hose, rolled them up and stuck them in her purse.
She took off her jacket and walked back up, barefoot and sleeveless. She sat down next to him.
He was idling the boat in the water. “Ready?”
She nodded.
“Hold on,” he said. He revved the engine, and with a start, they took off across the water.
“Isn’t this a little unorthodox?’” she asked over the din of the engine.
“What do you mean?”
“Taking a boat to a board meeting.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t like doing things by the book.”
The boat seemed to glide across the water. They were headed straight into the Atlantic. Up to the left, Cassie could see a school of dolphins. “Look,” she said, excited. She pointed them out to Hunter.
He slowed the boat down. When she glanced at him, she saw that he was looking not at the dolphins but at her. “Was the hotel suitable?” he asked.
She nodded and turned back toward the dolphins. “Great,” she said. “Thanks for breakfast.”
She glanced sideways at him. Once again she found herself wondering about his evening. Whom had he spent it with? “What about you?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I remember you said you had dinner plans.”
He nodded. “Oh, yes.” He glanced back at her. “It was a long night.”
A long night. She got it. He wanted her to know that he’d slept with her. Whoever she was.
How dare he? How could he be so narcissistic as to assume that she would even care—
The boat hit a wave straight on. Water splashed against her silk blouse, making it cling to her skin. Her bra was clearly visible. Not exactly the kind of outfit you wanted to wear on a boat, beside a man with whom you had just slept, a man who was now sleeping with someone else. But that was the least of her worries.
“Sorry,” Hunter said. “It�
�s choppier than I thought.” She saw his eyes glance toward her chest. He nodded toward the back. “There’s a towel back there.”
She grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her. When she sat back down, he pointed toward the island they were approaching. “That’s where we’re going.”
“But…it looks almost deserted.”
“It is. Almost.”
He drove up to an old dock. He turned off the boat and began securing it to the dock.
“Where are we meeting your board?”
“Right there,” he said, pointing to an old rambling shack on the beach.
“There?” she asked, more surprised than horrified. “In that hut?”
He grinned.
“What is this, Hunter?” she asked. “What’s going on?” This had to be some sort of joke. Where was the fancy marina? Where were the hotels? Where were the conference rooms? “You promised me—”
“I promised you an opportunity to meet my board. My board consists of one person—the only person whose advice I trust. My father. This is where he lives.” He held out his hand. “That man there,” he said, nodding behind him, “is the man who will decide your future.”
She glanced toward the shore. The man approaching them was wearing a bright Hawaiian shirt with blue-jean shorts. His gray, bushy hair was partially covered by a baseball cap. He waved and smiled.
“Don’t let his sweet-old-man demeanor fool you,” Hunter said. “He’s every bit as mean and tough as I am.”
“Your father?”
“That’s right.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Does it matter?” he asked. “If you had asked me who was on my board I would’ve been happy to tell you.” He nodded toward her purse and her folder. “Now, why don’t you hand those down to me so you can meet him.”
Cassie glanced at her belongings. It seemed ridiculous to bring a purse on the beach. She pulled out her shoes and handed her folder to Hunter.
“Morning,” Hunter’s father said. He held out his hand to Cassie, helping her off the boat. “You must be Cassie. Hunter’s told me all about you.”
Cassie glanced at Hunter. “Really?”
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