Scent of a Woman

by Joanne Rock

  “SO TELL ME what you know about the Burns family.” Danielle sipped her tea at a table with Monsieur Nordham late the next morning after convincing him that tea could be taken any time of day in the Rose Petal, the ship’s English-style tearoom.

  Although a more formal high tea would be served later in the day, the Rose Petal offered finger sandwiches and scones until the dining rooms opened in the evening. Danielle settled into her chintz-covered chair and sipped from the delicate floral teacup. The ginger-peach tea was a far cry from Earl Grey, but very soothing. Her nerves were still upset after last night’s phone call with Marcel, so she had decided to do a little investigating of her own between workshops.

  “First you must tell me if you are interested in the business profile or what I know of the family personally.” Nordham smiled as if he’d already guessed the answer. His aristocratic aura lingered in everything from the silver ring he wore bearing an etching of his family crest to the unassuming studs in his French cuffs.

  “Actually, I wonder what you might know of the family personally.” She saw no reason to hedge with a man who’d always expressed open admiration for her mother and her tendency to live life to the fullest.

  “I know more about the younger brother, Joseph, who is apparently the more polished of the pair. When Prestige Scents debuted their new line in London last year, Joseph made the rounds of highend retailers to ensure placement the same time I toured those shops myself.”

  “But this is the first you’ve met Adam?” She hoped the more she found out about Adam and his family, the more relaxed she would be when they spent time together today in Corfu.

  Her last error in romantic judgment had resulted from ignoring warning signs that something was amiss. Fancying herself in love, she’d discounted any rumors she’d heard that suggested Gunther wasn’t all he seemed.

  “I struck up a conversation when I caught him trying to stack the hors d’oeuvre meats into a club sandwich,” Nordham explained. “He claimed he was food deprived after a long flight, but I gathered later that he’d arrived by his family’s private jet so I don’t think the poor chap could have suffered too greatly, do you?” Nordham poured himself more tea from the individual pot. “He has a great fondness for brandy, I discovered. I had to replenish my stock after he joined me for a nip.”

  Danielle hid a smile.

  “So the family must be very wealthy.” She knew many people with money new and old, but private jets were a luxury that traditional wealth couldn’t always afford.

  “Burns Inc. has interests all over the world. Prestige Scents is a moderately sized piece in a vast global pie that makes Adam’s father one of the most successful men in business today.”

  The news sat well with Danielle. Why would Adam attempt some kind of corporate espionage to undermine Les Rêves when his own companies had met such a level of success?

  “How do you think Adam’s prospects are with International Markets? Any better than ours?” She knew Nordham would be pitching to the Dubai retailer, as well.

  “Only six companies have been invited to give a presentation, you know.” Nordham lifted his teacup to the genteel-looking older woman playing the harp who had just paused between songs. “I think contracts will be awarded to at least two of those, so the odds are decent for all of us. Prestige’s advantage is that they bring a lot of star power to the table with all the Hollywood endorsements they seem to garner.”

  Danielle hadn’t really considered that edge, but then she’d been so confident in her own secret weapon that she hadn’t given much thought to scouting the competition. She’d spent weeks analyzing scents native to the region to infuse her fragrances with authentic touches, and her specialty line of Arabian Nights perfumes was going to dazzle the Dubai retailer.

  “How did your meeting go this morning, by the way?” Nordham asked, clearly taken with the harpist. He couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from the elegant, silver-haired woman dressed in crisp white linen.

  “It went well.” Danielle was certain she’d impressed Ahmed with her ideas for the themed line of scents, which would be sold exclusively to International Markets. Even the packaging was a departure from Les Rêves’s signature pink-and-gold boxes. The Arabian Nights fragrances were tentatively slated to sell in jewel-toned bottles with Moorish style boxes, the whole collection as colorful and varied as a walk through a Middle Eastern marketplace. The retailer had liked her concept but had asked her to go deeper and see if she could make the marketing more specific to the region. She’d agreed to meet with him once more before the cruise was finished. While she didn’t usually invest so much time on an account without a contract, exceptions would be made for the Dubai account since it represented a potentially lucrative untapped market.

  Danielle would go the extra mile to sketch some ideas for packaging and promotion.

  “Ah, I sense a secret selling point or two in there,” Nordham teased, finally turning his attention her way. “Well, I wish you luck, my dear. But for now I must hurry you on your way since it’s already noon and I happen to know you have another date awaiting you.”

  She settled her teacup back in the saucer, all the more eager to see Adam now that some of Marcel’s concerns had been settled to her satisfaction. Adam Burns didn’t need to steal secrets from Les Rêves when he stood at the helm of one of the world’s most successful fragrance companies. Her gut instincts about him had been accurate.

  “You spoke to Adam this morning?” She gathered her purse and handed Nordham his cane.

  Nordham refused the walking stick with a shake of his head.

  “No offense, my dear, but I’m going to see if I can fill your seat with another beautiful woman as soon as that attractive musician is done with her set. And, yes, I saw your young man this morning. I discovered he likes his eggs over easy, but he’s not much for brandy in his coffee. Have fun, Danielle.”

  She kissed his cheek before turning to leave. On her way out she hurried past the painting of Alexandra Rhys-Williams Stamos. The willowy blonde with delicate features looked perfectly at home in the tearoom, but Danielle’s fanciful nature thought she spied a hint of steel in Alexandra’s blue eyes.

  She nodded in greeting to the painting, confident Alexandra’s spirit must be happy to have had her dream fulfilled so lovingly in Argosy Cruises’ refurbished ship. Danielle hoped she would be able to carry out her mother’s dream as successfully. Les Rêves was the passion of Monique Chevalier’s life, and Danielle refused to do anything to jeopardize its future.

  But as long as Adam Burns proved to be the man she believed him to be, Les Rêves was not at risk.

  Danielle continued to believe that right up until the moment she spied Adam.

  She had expected him to be standing there waiting for her. She hadn’t expected him to be wrapped in another woman’s arms.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “JESSICA?” Adam had to angle back to identify the woman who had practically tackled him on the gangway in Corfu, the woman whose arms were still glued around his midsection.

  He’d only stepped through security in case Danielle had thought that’s where he’d meant for them to meet—

  Danielle.

  With renewed determination fueling his efforts, he pried Jessica Winslow’s arms off him and stalked toward the gangway where ship security checked passenger identifications going on and off Alexandra’s Dream.

  “Did you see a woman—” he began, but just then he spotted the back of Danielle’s head on the other side of the check-in point.

  “Danielle,” he shouted, digging in his pocket for the ship ID he’d had a moment ago when he disembarked. “Wait.”

  She turned, hesitated. Behind him, Jessica tugged on his hand while one of the ship’s security officers asked them to move aside to allow passengers to exit.

  “Aren’t you surprised to see me, Adam?” The actress who had caused him so much trouble pulled him backward even as Danielle continued to walk away, deeper into the ship a
nd then out of sight.

  Adam was about to chase her down, but first he needed to clear something up with the Hollywood starlet who couldn’t seem to understand no.

  Damn it.

  Jessica had gone too far this time. Hiding out from her clearly hadn’t worked, and had resulted in his brother’s broken ribs. If Jessica didn’t want to work with Prestige Scents, so be it. But he was drawing some serious boundaries with her starting right now. Allowing himself to be led a few yards away from the ship, he spotted a stone bench near the dock and gestured toward it.

  “I sure as hell am surprised. Can you sit for a minute?”

  “I can’t believe you sent poor Joseph in your place when we went on the Jet Skis the other day. Since you wouldn’t come to me, I figured I’d come to you. I start shooting a movie in Italy later this week so I thought I would drop in on you—”

  “In Corfu.” He couldn’t believe this woman—all of twenty-five years old—had chased him around the globe.

  “Isn’t it wild?” She blinked up at him with wide brown eyes, her gold necklace winking in the sun. “I had my assistant dog your brother until he told us where you were hiding. I think his pain meds were kicking in when she finally got him to spill it.”

  She looked absurdly proud of harassing an injured man. And that’s when Adam realized he couldn’t afford to waste time with small talk. This woman might have ruined more than just his day ashore with Danielle. She might have jeopardized the whole cruise.

  “Jess, I don’t know where you got the idea that we were more than business associates, but I have a…girlfriend aboard this ship and I—”

  She stood, oblivious to the hundreds of people filing off the ship into the ancient Greek city for a day of shopping and sightseeing.

  “You have what?” Her voice dropped to an icy stage whisper and Adam congratulated himself on saying the right words to finally snag her attention.

  Even if they weren’t quite true.

  “A woman I care about. A woman I don’t want to mess things up with.” That might be stretching it, but he was willing to push the truth to give Jessica a face-saving out—now.

  From somewhere across the street a lightbulb flashed. Tourists taking pictures? Or had Jessica simply planned another publicity event? Damn it, he hadn’t thought about that. She baited cameras wherever she went.

  “And just what does that make me, Adam? The woman you dated to secure a celebrity endorsement?”

  Oh, that was priceless. Apparently he was going to be treated to the full force of her acting abilities today.

  Her raised voice reminded him how much she enjoyed an audience, and two guys he’d hoped were tourists now swarmed closer with their cameras. Great.

  “Jessica, I took you out a few times to show you Manhattan because you asked me to.” He fumed inside, knowing this woman had planned her trap with all the prowess of a lifelong hunter. “I’m almost fifteen years older than you and it would never have occurred to me that you wanted anything more than a chaperone. I’ve got to meet someone on board the ship now and I think you should know that I’m going to let Joseph handle your work with Prestige from now on so there’s no more confusion between us.”

  Standing, he debated the wisdom of sprinting for Alexandra’s Dream. But then, his desire to avoid her had landed him in this position in the first place.

  “Who is she?” Jessica didn’t move an inch, stiff and regal in her new role as the woman scorned.

  Lord, she was going to make one hell of an actress.

  “No one you know.” And with that, he gave in to the urge to cut and run. The fact that he’d upset Danielle mattered to him more than he would have thought, and he felt the need to protect her.

  “You realize I might withdraw my support from Reckless perfume?” she threatened from behind him.

  Not damn likely.

  Adam knew Jessica loved the money as well as the status she would derive from the multimillion-dollar ad campaign for the new fragrance. There wasn’t a chance she’d turn her back on the deal.

  “Just let Joseph know if you don’t want to promote the brand anymore,” he shouted back, showing his ID to ship security so he could board.

  His brother was going to kill him.

  But it wouldn’t matter as long as he could convince Danielle he wasn’t the two-faced jackass he appeared to be.

  WHEN HE FINALLY FOUND Danielle, she was seated at the wine bar on deck six, her dark hair knotted into an elegant twist that showed off the delicate back of her neck. Relief flooded his veins after almost an hour and a half of searching the ship and ringing her room, dodging people from the fragrance conference who wanted an appointment with him.

  The relief didn’t last long, however, as he realized she was engaged in a conversation with a tall foreigner who bent his head to hers to catch every word she spoke.

  He had no right to be jealous of the man in wire-rimmed glasses and charcoal suit that had to be custom-made. Yet there it was—a sharp pang of envy for the guy who stood close to Danielle.

  “Excuse me?” He joined them at the bar before he’d fully thought out what he was going to say. He nodded to the other man before turning to Danielle. “I’ve been looking for you and—”

  “Ahmed, have you met Adam Burns of Prestige Scents?” She cut Adam off with her sweetly spoken introduction, gesturing to the other man to include him in the conversation. “Adam, you know Ahmed Ramnathan of International Markets?”

  Aw, crap. This was the UAE retailer he was supposed to be impressing this week and Adam had just interrupted the guy. He recognized the man’s face from his business bio now.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Ahmed.” Adam shook his hand and reminded himself to thank Danielle profusely for saving his butt before he rattled on in front of the guy about standing her up. “I believe we have a meeting later in the week.”

  Only then did Adam notice the perfume bottles on the bar. Had the two of them been discussing Danielle’s fragrances when he interrupted them? She’d hate him forever if he’d messed up her chances with a major account.

  “Indeed we do,” Ahmed confirmed in unaccented English. “I am glad to meet you in person ahead of time. Danielle and I were just sharing our thoughts about a few of the new brands being launched this year.” He looked down at the bottles on the bar and tapped the top of a familiar magenta-colored stopper. “We are both impressed with your new Reckless brand.”

  “It’s delightfully subtle and surprisingly fresh,” Danielle added, her manner flawlessly professional despite the fact that she had to be annoyed with him for what she’d seen on the pier in Corfu. “I like the direction your brands have taken in the last five years.”

  They spoke easily for a few minutes about the new research director at Prestige’s laboratory and Adam wondered how he could excuse himself from the conversation so he wouldn’t take away from Danielle’s time with an important contact.

  But then the conversation turned abruptly as Ahmed picked up another bottle, this one labeled “Obsidian.”

  “And what of Zumer’s newest scent, Adam? Did you find it pleasing?”

  Damn. Adam smelled a trap with the question, though the other man’s face gave nothing away. He had no idea what the perfume might smell like or what the industry consensus on the launch might be, but he did recall the Zumer brands were affordably priced and the company had posted growth in the last two years.

  “I think they know their market.” Adam glanced over at Danielle, who sat listening intently. “You can’t argue with two years of growth.”

  “Unless you begin to rush your products to market.” Danielle set down her wineglass and retrieved the perfume bottle, removing the stopper to sniff the blend. “I think there is a risk involved when you are held accountable by a board of directors to show unceasing profit. Occasionally the creative process requires more time to develop.”

  Danielle passed the bottle to Adam and he took the required sniff, wondering if he’d ever get her alone
today to apologize. It was bad enough falling backward into a conversation with a contact he needed to impress, but Danielle’s inevitable confusion and disillusionment pricked at his conscience.

  “I can’t speak to how women will like it,” Adam said honestly, “but I can tell you this much—the name was poorly chosen.”

  Ahmed frowned as he adjusted his glasses and read the name on the bottle again.

  “You do not like the name?”

  “Not sexy enough or sweet enough. It should be one or the other, as long as it projects an appealing amount of femininity.” As soon as the words left his mouth he experienced a moment of panic that the fragrance was a cologne for men and he’d just revealed the depth of his ignorance.

  But neither Ahmed nor Danielle contradicted him. Instead, Ahmed nodded slowly.

  “There is tremendous power in naming,” he acknowledged, looking at Adam with new respect. “I will hope for Zumer’s sake this is not their first misstep, but I will watch the fragrance’s performance with interest in light of our discussion. For now, I must leave the two of you to attend a workshop on new trends in pheromones.”

  He gave a short bow and departed, leaving Adam alone with Danielle at the bar. The afternoon crowd was thin, with most of the regular cruise ship passengers on shore in Corfu. Many of the attendees of the fragrance conference were still on board for a handful of afternoon workshops, which were starting shortly, so the bar was quiet except for a piano player in one corner of the room.

  “Thank you.” Adam knew he needed to apologize to Danielle for what had happened on the pier, but first, he would thank her for helping him out with Ahmed. “I’d never met Ramnathan in person and I was so focused on finding you, I didn’t make the connection when I first saw him.”

  Danielle held up one of the perfume containers to the light. She seemed to inspect the golden liquid before replacing the tiny decanter on the bar.

  “I believe it is best to play fair, even in business, although I know there are many who would not agree.” She was wearing a simple strapless dress and shrugged her bare shoulders. “When I secure a contract from International Markets, my conscience will only let me enjoy it if I have not purposely hindered the competition.”