He cocked an eyebrow. She'd been right the first time she'd seen him. This man was dangerous.
She turned the doorknob, took one step to the side and backed out of the office. When she dashed to her car the last thing she saw in the lot was Bill McElroy's startled expression. She couldn't blame him for being surprised; it was the first time she’d ever run away from anything.
* * *
Next morning, Jace gave up all hope of sleep without dreams and rose early. The night had been filled with Kate: the scent of her, the feel of her, the warmth of her, the sound of her laughter, the softness of her breasts against his chest.
The kiss yesterday had screwed things up. Until then, she'd been a distraction, an interesting friend of his uncle, a pretty, intelligent woman with a great pair of legs. But now she was all of those things and more. It was the more that worried him.
To all outward appearances she was wrong for him; wrong for his life, and especially for his plans. She didn't even like him much. He wasn’t sure why she reacted to him the way she did, but he shrugged it off as baggage that could be cleared away with time.
The kiss had started as a lighthearted celebration of his first sale. But touching her and knowing she responded had caused an explosion in his blood. A fire had consumed him. A fire he'd never hoped to find. The kind of fire his parents had shared.
He'd always wanted a woman who fit in. A woman used to the life she'd be expected to lead by marrying a bank executive. He’d wanted a hostess. Cool, sophisticated, tall, blond and educated, she'd be willing to move anywhere in the world his career took them. He tried to pull that woman into his daydream but she kept coming up short, hot and dark—like Kate Calhoun.
Damn. The woman in his mind’s eye wasn’t like Kate, it was Kate.
By the time the coffee brewed, he was almost convinced he had nothing to worry about. The kiss had shown him the way to Kate's heart. He hadn't imagined her response. The quickened breath, the restless shifting against him, the dazed look in her beautiful brown eyes all pointed to the same thing. She'd been as turned on as he. It was a start, something to build on.
He was restructuring his life plan to suit her, when she came into the kitchen, adorably bleary-eyed. "Rough night?" he asked, happy to see her.
She spared him a glance. "I had something on my mind."
He poured her coffee, pleased that she hadn’t avoided the kitchen the way she had yesterday.
"It's my turn to buy the groceries," she said in her most chilly voice, which for Kate was somewhere between sultry and seductive. "Do you have a list of what you want this time?" She fluffed her hair absently, sending a cascade of auburn strands across her shoulder.
He wanted to sink his fingers into that hair and tug her face to his for a coffee-flavored kiss. He wanted to trace the delicate line of her jaw and nibble her neck. He wanted to make her laugh by tickling her silly. And then he wanted...
"The grocery list," he replied when he got his fantasy under control, "is still on the cork message board." He splashed cream into his own coffee and settled into his seat across the table from her. He drank and watched his opportunity to talk to her disappear with Harry's entrance.
"I need a cup of coffee, just one cup," Harry muttered.
"Juice," Jace and Kate said in tandem. They looked at each other and her easy smile took his breath away.
Harry grunted. "You're both getting a kick out of this, aren't you?" He scratched absently at his moderate paunch, then poured himself a glass of apple juice and shuffled back to his bedroom, grumbling all the way.
"It's hard to believe my ladylike mother is related to that old coot," Jace said, pleased to have seized on a somewhat less charged subject to discuss.
She smiled. "What was it like having Harry as an uncle when you were a kid?" She leaned closer across the table, no longer distracted but curious, and the silk of her blouse pulled tight across her breasts. He had a hard time concentrating on her question.
"Uncle Harry always kept my mother from getting too stodgy. He'd shake things up. When she got angry with him, he'd just laugh and say she needed to remember where she came from." He grinned at the memories.
Kate poured him more coffee. "Where did she come from? Harry never talks about his family. He calls all that ancient history, as if it doesn't matter."
"I suppose anything you take for granted lacks a certain importance. Kind of like not noticing unless it's taken away."
"Or if you never had it in the first place."
Jace struggled to see more meaning in her words than her matter-of-fact tone implied. He was suddenly struck with the idea that she might be leery of the differences in their backgrounds.
"Grampa Johnson was a logger," he explained. "He worked in the bush all his life."
Kate nodded, encouraging him to continue.
"When my father's family tut-tutted at Harry's antics he'd wink at me and tell a dirty joke with just enough finesse to make Grandmother Donner snicker."
"I can imagine. I've heard most of Harry's jokes," she said dryly.
"Uncle Harry was larger than life to me." He locked on a memory of Harry shaking hands with one of his customers. His large, freckled hand had pumped like a piston and he'd seemed very tall. Now that Jace was grown, his uncle was a much shorter man. "He was big and blustery, you know?"
She nodded. "Yes. I know," she said gently.
"Until the heart attack," Jace said quietly. "That scared the hell out of me."
"Me too," Kate agreed. "I never thought I'd be so scared of losing someone." She spoke softly, as if Jace wasn't there.
He sat still. Would she share a bit more? He wanted another piece of the Kate Calhoun puzzle. Wanted it bad.
She shrugged. "I guess I've never had anyone to lose before," she added, as if the complete aloneness of her existence was hardly worth mentioning.
Jace was appalled. Her words seemed to echo around the kitchen, finding a place in his heart. She'd never had anyone to lose, huh? He reached across the table and touched her fingertips. She only allowed the contact for a short moment before she pulled her hand to her lap.
"Harry must have been happy to hear about your sale." She offered him a tight smile.
"Yes, he was. He claims I always had it in me."
"I see.”
"Harry wanted me in the business. Grandfather Donner accused him of having this heart attack just to get me back from New York." He laughed easily. "What I do with my life has been a running feud between those two old men for as long as I can remember."
"Harry wanted you in the business?"
"Sure, why not? That's what families do, isn't it?"
She nodded stiffly. "I guess so."
Sensing her withdrawal, Jace searched for a reason why. "Kate, about yesterday—"
"It was nothing," she interrupted quickly. "You said so yourself. That was a simple kiss of congratulations and nothing to get into knots about,” she quoted him.
When he didn't reply, she went on, "Don't go romanticizing it. I won't have any part of that. This morning coffee"—she waved a hand around the kitchen to illustrate her point—"is just that, nothing more. We're two people trying to get ready for work at the same time. Just because we sit here and share—things—doesn't mean diddly."
"I was going to ask if you wanted me to deliver one of those pickups to Auburn today." The shift in conversation flustered her.
"Oh. Sure, okay." A rich red flush rose from her neck to her face in record time. She slid her chair away from the table. "I've got some things to do," she said, making good her escape.
Already thoughtful about her rush to deny that their relationship was warming, Jace rinsed their coffee mugs and set them in the sink. He'd give her the morning to regain some equilibrium while he made the trip with the pickup.
"Harry?" he called into the converted dining room. "I'm leaving now. Don't smoke anything while I'm gone."
Katie heard Jace in the hall downstairs. Harry called back something
about Cadillacs and places where the sun doesn't shine. Jace laughed and walked straight down the hall and out the front door, not looking up the stairs to where she stood, watching from above.
Look at yourself, she thought wildly, hiding upstairs like a thief. Babbling in the kitchen over that kiss yesterday, acting like a fool. Letting him see how much that kiss had shaken her. But Jace was only a man. Only a man, nothing more.
He came from a good, steady family, was college-educated, conventional and planned every step of his career. A man like many fortunate others.
Katie had never planned further ahead than her next paycheck. She'd never wanted to be stuck in an office, hadn't finished high school and didn't know who her family was.
And what was more, she didn't care. Katie knew all the traps a woman alone could fall into and she hadn't tripped up yet. She understood better than anyone who she was, what she wanted and how to work for it. And what was more, she was damned proud of herself.
She and Jace were as different as night and day. They came from different places, wanted different things. She had nothing to worry about. What in the world would a man like Jace ever see in her?
* * *
Kate and he were not at all alike, Jace realized on the way to the lot. He'd been raised in a loving environment by a strong woman, an unconventional but dependable uncle, and a paternal grandfather stern enough to steer him in the right educational direction. Life had treated him well. He didn't kick dogs, hit women or burp at the table. He didn't gamble, womanize or cheat on his taxes.
He plodded along, steady as a beaver. Dependable.
Boring.
Katie was so lively sparks danced along her skin, electrifying him. Her eyes flashed every emotion she had. Somehow—he'd get the whole story someday—she'd been thrown into a life she'd had to carve out for herself, depending on no one for help or advice. She'd become a woman of mystery, beauty and determination all on her own. What the hell would a spitfire like Kate Calhoun ever see in him?
The only advantage he had was the attraction between them. Kate was as vulnerable to it as he was. It was the logical place to start.
The rest of the morning was filled with traffic and a tumult of planning as he drove down the interstate. On the way back, he decided he needed to get at Harry's books at his first opportunity. He'd already left it for too long.
Jace sat in his uncle's office next to Kate's. There was only slightly more room than in hers because Harry kept stacks of filing boxes and old cabinets close at hand. Jace closed the yellowed ledger, his eyes swimming from trying to read Harry's large scrawl crammed into narrow columns of figures. Harry's Used Cars must be the last business of its size in North America that made money the old-fashioned way: without computers.
But the numbers were good. Very good. Profit was definitely up. The promise he'd recognized on his first visit was more than fulfilled.
He reached for the phone and dialed Harry's accountant. "Dan? Jace Donner here." Dan Small was from an old Bellingham family. He and Jace had gone to school together, so it took a few minutes of catching up before he could get to the reason for his call. "I'm considering recommending that my uncle sell the business."
"I heard about Harry's heart attack, of course, but I had no idea it was that bad. Katie said he was fine."
"For the most part, it is. Harry's doing well, considering he's mad as hell at having to give up his cigars. But I'm leaving the country and my mom just remarried. There won't be anyone here to keep him on track. I don't want him back in the hospital in six months. The business might be too much."
"He's got Katie. Maybe you don't get how good a team they are." Hesitation rode the line. "I've got to tell you, Jace, I've never seen a business turn around as fast as Harry's. That woman knows her stuff. My dad still talks about it. He uses Harry's place as an example when other clients find themselves in messes they don't know how to fix."
Interesting. Dan had just corroborated everything else Jace had learned about Kate. Perhaps it would be premature to mention that he planned to take her with him when he went to Zurich.
"I need the last two year-end statements, Dan. But without email, I’ll have to come over to get them.”
“Katie finally convinced him to buy a fax machine, so we’ll go that route."
"I saw a receipt for one. It must be in Kate's office, because I don't see it here."
“Harry didn’t like the noise and Katie has a habit of proving they need things by buying them herself. When Harry gets around to admitting she's right, he reimburses her."
"I guess that’s why I don't see a computer. For a company this size, a network would be a big investment." Kate was doing well, but no one would expect her to take on the financial burden of a system, website and internet presence. Hiring a high school kid with a flair for web design wouldn’t cut it. Keeping up with social networking sites would be a time management nightmare without a dedicated employee. They couldn’t afford one.
Dan said he'd fax whatever information Jace needed. Jace smiled as he hung up. There was nothing as beautiful as a plan coming together.
* * *
"What's the wonder boy, Jace, think of all this?" Bill McElroy asked Katie.
"This is my idea and Harry's lot." Katie nodded for emphasis. "Harry will make the decision." If truth be known, she'd avoided thinking of Jace's response to her plans.
"I dunno," Bill said doubtfully. "Jace is the boss's nephew, even if he doesn't know this business."
"Exactly." Exasperation edged her words with steel. "Jace has no experience."
Bill smiled a great, big salesman's smile. "Go for it, Katie. No one else in this town would try it."
"Try what?" Jace demanded from the doorway, his voice cold. The steady glare he gave Bill was savage.
Chapter 5
Bill stood immediately, squaring his shoulders. "This is a private meeting, Donner."
Katie sat quietly, amazed. She'd never seen easygoing Bill respond with such tight-lipped control. Jace was glorious in his rooster imitation: all cocky belligerence and testosterone.
"Anything that concerns my uncle's business concerns me," Jace snarled, literally looming over poor Bill.
"Katie will explain when she's ready," Bill shot back, shifting to stand in front of the desk. All she could see now was Bill's defiant straight back.
"Thank you, Bill," she said evenly, in spite of her amusement at their behavior. She couldn't remember ever seeing two such misguided nincompoops in her life. Did neither of them remember she was an adult capable of speaking for herself? Men. There wasn’t a one that didn’t bow to testosterone. She stood and walked around her desk to face Jace directly.
"I’m presenting an idea to Harry this evening after supper, Jace." She nodded at McElroy. "Bill has given me some valuable feedback and considering his years of experience, I’m taking his advice." Bill looked at her as if he'd forgotten she was there.
Then he grinned and nodded. She smiled back at him, aware of, but totally ignoring, the barely controlled anger in Jace's expression. Bill went to move toward the doorway, but Jace blocked his path. After a very long standoff, Jace stepped aside and allowed Bill to pass.
Katie went to follow him out but Jace closed the door, trapping her.
He leaned a strong hand against the wood so she couldn't pull it open. At the same time, he pressed his other hand on the door beside her head. Trapped between his arms, she had no choice but to turn around and look up into his face.
He was too close, as usual. The lighter flecks of silver in his steely blue eyes mesmerized her. The wall clock ticked five times as she waited; each tick louder, each tick making her mouth drier.
His gaze darted across her features, and then settled on her mouth in an alarmingly familiar way.
No fair. A rush of heat rose from her neck to her cheeks, but she refused to look away.
She waited. Interminably, she waited while her inner heat rose.
Exasperated, she broke. "Th
e last time you closed this door, you kissed me. I won't—"
"What makes you think I'd kiss such a bullheaded, selfish, uncommunicative, and secretive—?”
"Running out of adjectives?" She cut him off. She taunted him with several earthy epithets she felt sure he would have preferred to use. The only way out of this was to goad him to anger. "What's the matter, Jace; didn't they teach you any dirty words in banker school?"
"Don't," he snapped, his eyes ablaze with something hard. Anger? His lips had tightened.
"Why shouldn't I? That's what you want to call me, only you're too much of a gentleman to say it." She continued to stare up at him, daring him to deny what she said.
"Don't push me, Kate." He spoke in a near growl through clenched teeth.
Pushing was her only defense, and all she could do. "That nonsense with Bill—is there some invisible male scorekeeper women aren’t aware of? Or were you just strutting your stuff?"
He blinked and lowered his head. His hair fell forward and hid his expression, but she could guess at that. He took several deep breaths. She bit her lip and watched him, not certain what he would do next.
She'd probably gone too far.
"All right," he said with a sigh. "I'll wait until this evening to find out what this plan is of yours." His strong hands clamped on her arms. She knew better than to try to get out of his grip. If she struggled he might kiss her again just to prove he was the one in control.
The sad thing was he’d be right.
After a moment, he moved away from her. Funny how her lips tingled in response. She’d wanted his kiss. The disappointment of missing out seared and ticked her off at the same time.
He reached for the doorknob at her side. She stepped away from him on uncooperative legs.
He opened the door and looked at her, his anger still in his eyes. "Kate—?"
"Yes?"
"Quit trying to point out our differences. I don't like it. And it won't do you any good."
* * *
After a supper of extra-lean barbecued steaks and tossed salad with a no-fat dressing, Jace followed Kate and Harry into the living room. Kate had watched him through the meal, probably waiting for him to return to their earlier argument. But he couldn't. Her taunts were her only means of self-defense. He'd had her backed up against a door, with no way around him and no way out. It's a wonder she hadn't screamed for McElroy.
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