by Amber Heart
“I guess that’s true...you don’t seem to do that.” Ara flung another pillow. This time Silvia caught it and tossed it back. “How long has it been since you went out with someone anyway?”
Ara wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. “I don’t know. I guess it has been a while.” She thought back. “Probably sophomore year at college. That’s depressing.”
“I don’t like the idea of you dating him, but I suppose you can always use him for sex and then cut him loose.”
Araceli laughed, but it honestly didn’t sound like a bad plan.
****
Araceli rushed into her apartment, and slammed her door quickly, cursing her bad luck. First, she’d gotten stuck with an overly talkative client right at the end of the day. The woman had stopped by to question her bill, and it should have been a simple answer. But then she’d wanted to talk politics and the rising cost of her prescriptions. She hadn’t left the office until she’d exhausted both of those subjects and Araceli’s patience.
Araceli had finally hurried her out, but she’d gotten on the road just in time to get caught in traffic. After all of that, she now only had about half an hour to be both impressive and intimidating in time for her meeting with Donovan Sutton.
She twisted the shower on, turning the handle all the way over to hot as she stripped quickly. Then she dashed into her bedroom and flung open her closet door. She began flicking through her clothing choices quickly while she waited for the shower water to heat up. It was an old building and it usually took a while.
Most of the clothing in her small closet was either professional work wear or casual weekend wear. But there, in the very back, was the red dress. Araceli stopped and eyed it. She’d bought it on a whim and she’d never worn it anywhere.
She took a deep breath and grabbed it, tossing it down on the bed and hurrying for the bathroom when she saw steam escaping from under the door. Tonight was the night.
Ara jumped into the shower and began to wash her hair hurriedly. Then, slowly, sensation began to kick in. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t really going on a real date, but all the elements were there. Handsome guy, dinner, a red dress that she knew looked damn good on her. She slowed down, taking her time rinsing her hair and conditioning it. She soaped up and shaved, enjoying the fact that she actually had a reason to get all dressed up.
Had it really had been sophomore year in college the last time she’d done this? She thought back carefully. It had. She’d been so focused on getting her degree and then on learning everything she could about her chosen career that she hadn’t had the time to go out. Or, to be more accurate, she hadn’t made the time to go out. Her life had been studying, working, and sleeping since she was nineteen years old and she’d only just noticed it. That was more than a little depressing.
Oh well. She shook it off. She’d use Donovan Sutton as a way to get back into the scene. This would sort of be a practice date. Just with more talk of buying companies than most dates probably had.
Once she was clean, she wrapped a towel around herself and walked back into her bedroom. She normally didn’t wear much makeup, mainly because she enjoyed sleeping in as late as possible. Tonight though, she enjoyed the ritual of putting on the moisturizer and foundation, concealing certain things and highlighting others. Then she pulled out her eyeshadow palette and glanced back at the dress spread over her white comforter. It deserved something that would add to the drama. She created a smoky eye and then stroked a bright crimson lipstick over her full lips. Not bad.
Ara pulled the dress over her head, letting the cool silky fabric cling to her body, and then glanced in the mirror. She couldn’t hold back a smile at the reflection she saw. She’d wanted to look both impressive and intimidating and she could see that she’d pulled it off without a shadow of a doubt. She also looked sexy as hell.
She pulled her heels on, dropped her lipstick into her bag, and headed out. She was running a little bit late, but somehow, she didn’t think Donovan would mind.
Chapter 4
Donovan sat in the restaurant feeling an odd sense of deja vu. This time at least, he knew who he was waiting for. The trouble was that Araceli was either late or she’d stood him up.
He glanced at his watch and then at the door. If she’d stood him up, he was going to be extremely put out. And not just because they had business to discuss and he had charm to pile on in order to secure a yes. He had to admit that he actually wanted to see her again as a person, not a prospect. Which was odd, given how completely she’d annihilated him in their first match.
It wasn’t easy for Donovan to admit when someone else had won, but he could hardly deny it once he’d thought it over. It was actually almost a little funny. But he’d been unprepared. Unprepared for her anger. Unprepared certainly for her beauty. He thought back to the way her deep brown eyes had practically shot sparks at him and nearly smiled. So few things were a challenge for him. Most people were awed by either his money or his looks. She hadn’t seemed to care about either one. It was intriguing.
He hadn’t had much time for dating in the past few years. Maybe that was why he couldn’t get her out of his mind. He’d been thinking of her nonstop since she’d left him sitting in the Italian restaurant. Part of it, obviously, was thinking of strategies so that she wouldn’t win the next round. The other part though...well...it made him feel like a high school kid again. The dream he’d had of her last night alone was enough to make his temperature rise. God, he hoped she wasn’t going to stand him up.
He was just pulling out his phone to send her a message when she walked through the door. He laid his phone on the table carefully to avoid dropping it as his fingers seemed to go numb. His rehearsed greeting left his mind, gone like blown smoke in the wake of seeing her.
Once again, she was unexpected. Unexpected in a silky red dress that clung to her curves and flared out around her knees. The dress moved and swung gracefully as she walked toward him on heels so high that he wondered how the hell she managed to walk in them and make it look so easy.
“Hello, Mr. Sutton,” she said, stopping by the chair across from him. “I’m sorry I’m late. Getting ready took longer than I thought it would.”
For the first time in a long time, he said the first thing that came to his mind. “It was worth it, Ms. Vasquez.”
Araceli smiled, at once demure and alluring. “Thank you.”
He stood and pulled her chair out and she took her seat with a nod of gratitude.
“How are you this evening?” he asked, trying not to stare at the way the dress cupped her breasts, or the way her lipstick matched the fabric almost exactly.
Her mouth kept drawing his attention though. He hadn’t noticed before how full her lips were. He suddenly wondered what it would be like to kiss her, to feel those lips part on a gasp under his.
“I’m doing well,” she said primly. “And yourself?”
“Just fine,” he said with a nod. “Will you have a glass of wine?”
Ara took a moment to look at the wine list and then ordered a moscato. “I’m afraid that I’m not a connoisseur,” she said once the waiter had vanished. “I like them sweet and light.”
“I think it’s better to know what you like and accept nothing else than to pretend to be an expert in a subject that doesn’t interest you,” Donovan said honestly. “In other words, why drink it if it doesn’t taste good?”
She nodded, looking mildly surprised. “I suppose that’s true,” she agreed. “Now. Should we get to the point of the evening? Your reasons for buying my uncle’s company?”
“I was hoping to ply you with wine first,” he said with a smile. He’d said it lightly but it was mostly true. He wasn’t unscrupulous enough to make a deal with someone who was drunk, but getting a negotiation started with plenty of wine was never a bad idea.
“That’s no good,” she informed him seriously, though he noticed a twinkle in her eyes. “For one thing, I’m driving so I’m not going
to drink much. For another, I could probably drink you under the table if I wasn’t.”
Donovan laughed in pure surprise. “Oh, really?”
Araceli nodded once more. “No question.”
“I look like a lightweight to you?”
She allowed herself a full smile. “Oh yeah. You rich boys are all talk.”
The waiter came back before he could reply to that and they both ordered their food and tasted their wine. He’d ordered a glass of the wine she’d chosen and he savored it for a moment. It was light and sweet, but he liked it. His unruly mind drifted to the fact that he’d be able to taste the crisp wine on her lips if he took her mouth now.
“So let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” Araceli said after she’d taken several appreciative sips of her wine. “No more flattery, no more teasing. Tell me why you’re doing this. Is it just to buy up every last bit of competition? Or do you have something else in mind?”
“I was just out of college when Oliver Ingram became my mentor,” Donovan said without preamble. “He believed in me and he wanted me to learn something.”
“You said you’d just graduated college,” Ara pointed out. “You must have learned a thing or two along the way.”
“A few things,” he allowed. “None of them were useful in my career, however. I’m an honest enough man to tell you that I wouldn’t have graduated if my parents hadn’t been rich.”
“Are they accountants too?” There were some firms that made the truly big bucks. Ingram Norman was one. Maybe his parents worked for or owned another.
Donovan made a scoffing noise. “No. My parents...to be perfectly blunt...don’t really do anything. They expected me to come back and do the same thing.”
She leaned forward. “So let me get this straight. Your parents wanted you to do nothing?”
He shrugged. “They tend to get involved with causes and charities from time to time...mostly when boredom really kicks in...but essentially, yes. They were offended at the idea that I wanted to work. Let alone work from some accounting firm they’d never even heard of.” Donovan took a drink and smiled without warmth. “They’ve heard of it now.”
“Why did this Oliver Ingram want you as a mentee?” she asked bluntly.
“There were two reasons,” Donovan said. “He thought I was smart and capable.” He raised an eyebrow. “Which I am. And there was no one else to take over the business. He wanted to leave it to someone who cared about it.”
“I’m guessing he’s gone now,” she ventured, her tone much less harsh now.
“Last year,” Donovan said with a nod. He had to clear his throat before he went on. “I plan to prove that he did the right thing in mentoring me. I’m in the process of making Ingram Norman a large and respected company on the West Coast with plans to go global in ten years time.”
“So you are trying to eliminate competition.”
Donovan shrugged. “Not exactly. Some of the firms I buy stay open, you know. It saves me the costs of building my own firm in the locations where they’ve already been doing business.”
“What about the employees from the independent firms?”
“It depends. In some cases, they’ve been able to stay on.” She probably wouldn’t understand that most of the people he bought out weren’t qualified to give the kind of service he expected at Ingram Norman, so he wasn’t about to admit that it was incredibly rare.
“And then they work for you and not themselves,” she pointed out. “That’s a big change.”
“Yes, but we do everything we can to make it an easy transition,” he said smoothly. That part was true. The training was intensive, but he and his company didn’t set out to make people unhappy, after all.
“And in the cases where you don’t want to open a branch of Ingram Norman?” she asked, her eyes holding his. “What happens to the business then?”
“I pay very generously,” he said simply. “I’ve never given any business owner cause to complain. Most of the time the owners I buy out take the opportunity to retire with the funds.”
“You think I should retire if you buy my job away from me?” Araceli asked. “Don’t you think twenty four might be a little young for knitting and bingo?”
“Maybe,” Donovan allowed. “But there are always other things. You could go back to college, get a new degree.”
“I didn’t get a master’s degree in accounting for the rock star lifestyle, you know. I honestly love my job, Mr. Sutton, and I don’t want another degree.”
“Then you might be a good fit for Ingram Norman,” he said, leaning back and eyeing her to see how she took the suggestion. “The salary is good and my employee benefit package is generous.”
“I’m sure it is,” she said. “But it’s not what I want.”
“I’m sure that we could find a way to give you what you want,” Donovan said confidently.
“I doubt that. I want the freedom of being able to make the rules. I want the pride of representing my family’s name when I go to work each day. I love knowing that we fill a really important need in the community.”
“A need for accounting?” Donovan asked, his mouth tipping into a smile.
Araceli laughed and shook her head. “It’s not just that we’re accountants,” she said. “It’s the fact that we can help people who don’t speak English as a first language. It’s a lot easier to talk complex business terms in your native language, Mr. Sutton. Can you tell me that Ingram Norman would fit that need?”
He stared at her in admiration. She’d cornered him again. She seemed to know it too. There was the start of a smile on her lips as she took a bite of her salad and waited for him to answer.
“I’ll be honest and say that it’s not something I’ve considered before,” he said. “But it’s something I’d be more than willing to look into.”
“Why do I feel like that’s a brush off?” she asked.
He held up his hands. “It’s honestly not,” he replied sincerely. “But there’s not a lot that I can do with the idea from here. And certainly nothing I can do about it over dinner.”
She tipped her head to the side, her chin length hair brushing over her cheek as she studied him. “Fair enough.” She took another forkful of salad before she said, “We’ve got two more courses to go, because I do plan to order dessert. What do we talk about now that I’ve told you no...again?”
“Why did you come to the first meeting?” Donovan asked.
“Because Uncle Arturo is a sweet man who hates to say no.”
“Damn,” he muttered. Maybe he should have pushed harder. Of course if he had, he wouldn’t be sitting here with Araceli right now. He was surprised to find a pang of pure loss at the thought. No. It might be a harder sell this way, but he wouldn’t have wanted to miss dealing with her. Especially, he admitted to himself, in that red dress.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Araceli said calmly. “He wouldn’t have sold. The only difference between Arturo and me is that he would have felt guilty for telling you no.”
Donovan only just managed to hold back a laugh. “Not you though?”
“Not for a second. Do you have a degree in accounting?”
“No. Business management.”
“What made you choose that?” she asked. “It’s seems a little boring for someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” he questioned.
“Rich. Bored. Probably only going to college because it was the last thing your parents wanted you to do. Did you pick something mundane just to make them mad?”
Damn. She’d hit the nail right on the head. The question was whether he should admit it or not.
“Do you always psychoanalyze your dinner dates?” he asked instead of answering her.
“This isn’t a date,” Araceli said quickly, but he saw her face color briefly, taking her skin from mocha to strawberry for a split second.
“A negotiation?”
She shook her head. “At this point, all discussion of you buying the accounting
firm qualifies as begging on your part.”
“Then what would you call this?” he asked, turning the tables neatly, finally managing to put her on the spot.
“I...I’m not sure,” Araceli admitted, her hand fluttering to the neckline of her dress. “Maybe we’re just baiting each other.”
“Maybe we are. Are you enjoying it as much as I am?” Donovan watched her as he asked the question.
She dropped her eyes down to her plate for a moment and her lips twitched into a smile. Then she raised her chin and looked directly into his eyes.
“Yes, I think so,” she agreed.
“Perfect. Then we should do it again. What about tomorrow night?” He hadn’t even known that he was going to ask until the question was out. He found himself nearly holding his breath as he waited for her answer. Unexpected again. He was becoming addicted to it.