One-Click Buy: September 2010 Silhouette Desire

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One-Click Buy: September 2010 Silhouette Desire Page 63

by Brenda Jackson


  “Macy,” he said against her lips. “We need to leave.”

  The fog of lust in her eyes gradually cleared and then she bit down on her swollen bottom lip.

  “Thank you.” She said it quietly, but the heartfelt meaning in the two words couldn’t have been clearer.

  “You’re welcome.” He stood and they both collected their carry-on luggage. He grabbed her hand and squeezed before they filed out of the plane and across the tarmac to their waiting limousine.

  He knew she’d probably erect more barriers between them now he’d seen her vulnerable. But he’d be damned if he’d regret that kiss. It’d been incredible.

  And he couldn’t stop thinking about how to make it happen again.

  The driver Macy had engaged for their trip dropped them in front of the shopping plaza downtown, then took their bags to the hotel. A dark car sent by the security firm Ryder hired in Melbourne had met them at the airport and now pulled over to let two men out. They stood on the pavement, a few feet away. Macy’s shoulders tensed involuntarily, but she forced them to relax—far better to have the security there than not.

  She edged closer to Ryder, amongst the people jostling and rushing, and pointed to the empty shop in front of them. “This is the one we’ve come to see.”

  Ryder lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and stepped forward. “Main street, ground floor, corner with double frontage. Looks ideal.”

  The front was all glass, which would give great views of the chocolate products, though it had been covered in newspaper from the inside so they couldn’t see in.

  A horn beeped in the traffic behind them, and Macy turned to the cars before Ryder’s voice brought her attention back to him. “Is the agent meeting us here?”

  “I had the driver pick up the key before meeting us, so we can just go in on our own.” She withdrew the key from her briefcase and unlocked the door.

  Ryder said a few words to the security then walked in behind her and shut the door. Abruptly, most of the sounds of the city cut off, as did the daylight. Crossing the room, she fumbled along the controls behind the counter until she found the light switches. She flicked them all on, drenching the room in bright neon lights.

  She turned slowly, surveying a countertop that had been left by the previous tenant. It was an old wooden, carved bench. Unfortunately it would have to go—it didn’t match the image they were after. All their fittings would be sleek glass and chrome. She ran a hand along the corner of the countertop, feeling its solidity. Its beauty of shape. A smile curved her lips—when she was running her own company, she’d have furnishings like this.

  Another car horn outside made her look up, and she realized Ryder was at the edge of the room, leaning against a wall, hands in pockets, watching her. Even from six feet away, she could see his eyes were dark. And feel his heat.

  She frowned and laid her briefcase on the counter. Keeping the image of a professional career woman was paramount when she was around him. Not giving him more openings to sway her to his plans of marriage and buying her father’s company.

  The kiss on the plane had been a mistake—she’d let her fear and vulnerability affect her actions. Though it had been incredibly sweet of Ryder to distract her with the story. She almost smiled at the memory, but stopped herself. He may have been sweet, but she couldn’t forget his real agenda. A business marriage.

  She stepped out from behind the counter and straightened her spine. “This is the front-runner of the retail spaces we’ve investigated, primarily for the location but it also has the floor space we need, and good access for regular deliveries.”

  Ryder pushed off the wall as if he’d never been staring at her and walked the floor, measuring by his stride. “It seems good. How’s the price relative to similar properties?”

  “More expensive than the others I short-listed, but when the extra features are taken into account, it’s comparable.”

  Ryder continued pacing the room, assessing features as he went. “What length lease are they offering?”

  “When I spoke to the agent, she—”

  The door opened and a flash went off to her right, interrupting her sentence. Ryder swore and strode to the door, slammed it shut and locked it. Then he moved to a side wall and pulled back a corner of newspaper to look out.

  A cold shiver ran across her skin. “Is it them?”

  Without looking back, Ryder nodded. “About six paparazzi. It seems our supposed romance is still big news. Must be a slow news day in Sydney.” He let out a disgusted snort then came to stand in front of her, hands on hips. “The security have moved them away from the door but they can’t remove them completely from a public street. As I see it, you have two options.”

  “Go on.” Despite the nausea in her belly, Macy blinked slowly, shoring up her reserves.

  “One, we walk out the door, past the cameras to the hotel. The security will shield you from the worst of it and their car will meet us at the curb.”

  The room tilted. A vision of them pushing past the small throng, with repeated flashes going off, made her dizzy. She took a stiff breath. “I can do that. But I think I’ll prefer option two.”

  “I ask the security to organize a diversion. We sit tight for half an hour to an hour, then we leave unnoticed.”

  Her stomach clenched. Memories surfaced of being with her mother, surrounded by paparazzi. Of being stalked by them after her mother’s death, when she’d been hurting and confused and grieving.

  Would he judge her for lacking fortitude? Would seeing her vulnerable twice in one day change the heat that had flared in his eyes a few moments ago? She knew he respected her professionally, and his opinion of her personally shouldn’t matter, but the thought of losing his respect sent a hollowness to her stomach. “It seems the coward’s way out.”

  “No.” He dismissed her concern with a nonchalant shrug. “If they bother you, then why let them harass you when there’s another option? All it will take is one call. We don’t even have to open the door.” He flipped open his cell phone. “Your decision.”

  She looked into Ryder’s eyes, seeking, but his face was relaxed, genuinely offering her a choice. “Make the call.” Relief surged through her veins as he dialed the number and made plans.

  It shouldn’t matter so much that people she didn’t know would take her photo for other people she didn’t know to look at in the papers. But it did. She’d always hated being put on display, but since her mother’s death, the thought made her sick.

  She heard Ryder ending his call and turned to see him pocketing his phone. “All done. Now we wait.”

  She nodded, acknowledging his words, but still uncomfortable that she’d needed him to organize the distraction. But, uncomfortable or not, he’d earned her gratitude. Again.

  She took a breath, waited a beat, then met his eyes. “It means a lot to me that you’ve done this. Thank you.”

  He frowned. “If I wasn’t here, they wouldn’t be stalking you.”

  True, but the paparazzi were the real culprits. “Even so, you’ve been very tolerant and accommodating of my anxieties today.”

  He shrugged. “Everyone has fears.”

  She couldn’t imagine Ryder Bramson fearing anything. He resembled an imposing warrior-leader from times past as much as the corporate giant he was.

  Ryder’s gut twisted as he saw the look in Macy’s eye. He knew she was about to ask him about his own fears, and that was something he didn’t talk about with anyone.

  He turned, casting an arm out to encompass the site. And neatly changed the subject. “You’ve done well to find this place. In fact, you’ve done well in every facet of the job. I’d like you to rethink your plan to leave at the end of the project.” To leave him.

  She took the change in good grace, and her countenance changed to match. Smiling, she walked around the old counter and jumped up to perch on its edge.

  She threw him a glance over her shoulder. “You know why I’m leaving. It has nothing to d
o with the job.”

  He followed her around to the other side of the counter and leaned a hip against its edge. “You made the decision when you were upset—”

  She opened her mouth but he held up a hand.

  “—and rightly so. There were things I should have told you up front, and I regret that. But we’ve moved past it. We could have a good working relationship if you take on the Australian arm of this company.”

  She smiled wryly, kicking her heels out straight ahead, her gaze focused on them. “You know, a month ago, I would have jumped at that offer. That job was everything I was working toward.”

  There was something in what she said—no, in what she wasn’t saying—that drew him.

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Why that job?”

  She turned to smile up at him, eyes twinkling. “Shouldn’t you be extolling the advantages of the position? Talking it up?”

  “I’m curious.” And he was. The drive to understand the mystery of Macy was stronger in this moment than any other concern. He could spend years asking her questions just to hear what she’d say. “There are hundreds of jobs that are suitable to your skills. Why is this one the one you wanted?”

  Macy stilled. “Honestly?” she asked, her face candid, as if the enclosed room with its newspapered walls had become a haven away from the world. A place away from reality. He liked being there with her.

  He swallowed. “Yes.”

  “I want to be CEO, so whether the company flourishes or perishes can be attributed to me and my team. I’d rather be CEO of a midsized company than have a senior position at a large company. And I want to be CEO of a company with an annual turnover in the range we forecast for Chocolate Diva.”

  “That’s quite a specific aim.”

  She smiled again, acknowledging his point. “Yes, it is.”

  “Have you had that goal long?”

  She breathed in slowly. Too slowly. “Eight years.”

  When he’d first met her, he’d found her hard to read—as he was sure she appeared to most people. But he was coming to understand the nuances of her expressions. Her gestures. The thought made his chest expand a fraction and drove him to try to understand what she was avoiding telling him.

  “Why a company this size?”

  She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It seemed a good number.”

  “No.” He smiled lazily. “You haven’t answered my question.”

  She arched an eyebrow, obviously a little surprised. “It’s a good midsize company to prove myself in.”

  “Sounds reasonable.” He pushed off the counter and moved to stand in front of her. “But that’s not it. Why?”

  She frowned at his rejection of her replies. “There’s no other reason.”

  He leaned one hand on the countertop either side of her, trapping her and bringing their mouths within inches of each other. “Your eyes tell me there’s more to this story,” he murmured. “Why do you want a company this size, Macy?”

  Silence met his question, but he waited. Her warm, sweet breath fanned over his face, driving him a little crazy, and still he waited.

  Then she replied in a rush. “Because that’s the size of my father’s company.”

  It was the truth this time. He felt it in his bones. His fingers picked up a lock of hair that had escaped the confines of the twist she’d redone after their flight and toyed with it. “You want to beat him? Show you’re better than him?”

  Her pupils dilated as she looked from his eyes to his mouth. “No,” she whispered.

  “Tell me.”

  Her pink tongue slid across her lips then she closed her eyes, as if forming the thought in her mind. When she opened them again, she was bare, vulnerable. Willingly open to him. “I want to prove to him, and myself, that I should have been his heir. He wanted a son, but he didn’t get one. And now he’s willing to blackmail you into marrying me to keep the company in the family. It never entered his mind to pass it to me.”

  Ryder swore and shook his head at Ian Ashley’s stupidity. He’d assumed Macy wasn’t in line for the inheritance because she’d walked away from her family, not the other way around.

  He picked up her hands, linking their fingers. “That’s rough.”

  “You see my point?” She looked up at him, her wide hazel eyes searching his. She was extraordinarily pretty, but more than that pulled at him. It was as if he could see into her soul—see her need for someone to understand who she was and what she’d been through.

  He squeezed her fingers. “Yes, I do. If it’d happened to me, I’d be more angry than you.”

  For a split second her eyes glistened. Then she blinked twice rapidly and disentangled their hands. When she met his eyes again, all traces of emotional vulnerability were gone.

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  Taking his cue from her, he stepped back, out of her personal space, but his mind couldn’t make the same disconnect. He needed to do something. Something to make this right for her.

  “Marry me, and after I buy your father’s company, I’ll put you in as CEO. You’ll show everyone, including him, what a blazing good job you can do.”

  Her head tipped to the side and she frowned, as if surprised by his offer. But then she shook her head. “That’s sweet, but no. I don’t want his company anymore. It’d feel tainted.”

  “Okay then.” He dug his hands into his pockets, mind racing, trying to find a solution for her, and solve his issue with his father’s will at the same time. “How’s this? Marry me and I’ll give you a company twice the size of Ashley International. Lock, stock and barrel, it’ll be yours.”

  She shook her head but smiled in acknowledgement of his offer as she refused it.

  “You can have your career goal right now by marrying me.” He arched a brow. “What’s not to like?”

  She crossed her trousered legs at the ankle, leaving her shiny black heels sitting in a sexy pose. “What meaning would it have if I don’t earn it on my own?”

  There was that integrity again. Damn, it was attractive. He was starting to think he’d want to marry this woman even without needing her father’s company.

  But his father’s will—and it not leaving him a clear majority of stock—was still a factor. He needed to buy Ian Ashley’s company and gain control of his board of directors. And he needed to marry Macy to buy it. He’d thought for a moment he’d found a way to entice her into the arrangement.

  He’d just have to keep looking.

  Three quick taps sounded on the door. The signal from the security that all was clear and a car was waiting for them.

  If only his marriage was as easy to arrange as fixing this paparazzi situation had been. But his plans for this afternoon and tonight should change her mind.

  Six

  They’d barely been in the limousine five minutes when Macy felt it slow to a stop. The security had called the limo back early and had been waiting to bundle them inside once the coast was clear. They now followed close behind. She checked out the window and saw the wide Opera House steps beneath its distinctive sails. “This is the wrong direction. The hotel’s back in the city.”

  Ryder nodded to the driver and opened his door as he said over his shoulder. “There’s something I want to do first.”

  She waited until he appeared to open her door, but didn’t get out. “We have nothing on the schedule.”

  “This is a personal detour,” he said as he offered her his hand.

  Macy had never been a fan of detours from a set plan. Order and organization were the things that kept business and the world—including her life—operating smoothly. But this was Ryder’s business, therefore his call, so she took his hand and stepped from the limo.

  Despite her ambivalence, one thing he’d said intrigued her. “Personal?”

  He slipped his sunglasses from his jacket pocket, put them on and took in the expansive view. “I’ve never been to Sydney. My one previous Australian trip was also to Melbourne. There’s somethin
g I’d like to see while I’m here.”

  Macy folded her arms under her breasts and studied his face. It didn’t seem right—The Machine taking time out for sightseeing. She was sure his American staff would never believe her if she repeated the story.

  She found her own sunglasses in her bag and slid them on. “I wouldn’t have picked you for the tourist type.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “You weren’t listening to my holiday description on the plane?”

  She felt the heat rise up her chest and throat and turned away to the sails of the Opera House to obscure his view of her embarrassment. Except this wasn’t simply embarrassment, the heat flowed through her veins to every square inch of skin. Her body was responding to the mere suggestion of his kiss, whether she wanted it to or not. And she hated that loss of control.

  She tilted her chin up. “Ryder, I—”

  “Before you say anything,” he smoothly interjected, “I’ll show you what I have in mind.” He slipped an arm around her waist and gestured to the thirty-foot cruiser waiting at the jetty.

  It was beautiful—large, sleek and white; its proud elegance easily outstripped the craft around it. But she’d be trapped alone with Ryder. Again. At the mercy of her own flawed ability to resist him. Again. The sweet pull of the heavenly and the allure of the dangerous had never been so strongly interlaced.

  She took a small but symbolic step back from his arm. “I’m not sure we have time for a cruise. I have a lot of work to do at the hotel.”

  He dropped the arm she’d evaded and—seemingly unconcerned by her reluctance—dug both hands into his trouser pockets. “You have to eat, and lunch has been prepared for us on board. Think of it as your lunch break.”

  She looked at the gleaming cruiser. She’d never been out on the Harbour. Her trips to Sydney had always been quick business visits, but each time she’d promised herself that one day she’d explore this, the heart of Sydney. Maybe today was that day, and Ryder had handed her the opportunity. Could she do it? Ignore work for an hour or two, indulge herself, spend social time with her boss and not let it lead anywhere? She bit down on a secret smile, not willing to let it free, but ready to live in the moment for once.

 

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