“Ah...” Qasim’s dark eyes narrowed as though he’d decided no further clarification was needed.
Minka shrugged and began looking for mugs. “That’s why I want to go to Miami. Of course there’s business to handle, but it is Miami. Hopefully Gram’ll appreciate the effort I’m making to have fun.”
“And also to keep her from worrying?” Sim guessed.
“Bit of both.” Minka set silverware next to the mugs filled with steaming French roast. “I just don’t think the marriage game is for me.” She laughed at Qasim’s look of playful outrage.
“This from the woman who gave me continuous grief over not going after Vectra in a way she approved.”
“It’s not the same, Sim.”
“Oh?”
“I’m from a family of billionaires, Sim. A heiress. That’s a whole different set of assumptions, Sim. A whole different kind of drama than a man would have.”
“You’re worried about not being able to find a man to love you for who you are.” Qasim added an understanding nod. “You’ve thought a lot about this.”
She gave a wan smile. “Sometimes it’s hard not to. But, trips to Miami definitely make it easier.”
“Good outlook.” Sim’s expression remained sober. “Talk to me if you need to, okay? And not just to give me your two weeks’ notice either, all right?”
“I’d never leave you in a lurch!” Minka laughed.
“Mmm...the way I’m leaving you. Holding the bag on this Miami thing to run off for love.”
Minka threw her head back to laugh robustly. “Love is the best reason to leave someone holding the bag.”
“Try asking the person left holding the bag.”
Minka spread her hands over the desk as though she were presenting it in a showcase. “You just did.”
“I only want you to understand how serious I am about you talking to me,” Qasim reiterated, following more laughter. “It’s one thing to work to make the boss look good and another thing entirely when you’re the boss. Just keep me in the loop, all right?”
Minka moved from behind the bar, nodded and met Qasim in the middle of the room for a hug.
* * *
Oliver Bauer was a man who worked hard and played harder. This lifestyle suited Oliver just fine—he had no desire to follow in his sister’s footsteps anytime soon.
However, that was before he met Minka Gerald. Oliver silently called himself an idiot. He carried a sopping-wet sponge to his navy Jeep Cherokee, one of two that he owned. Waiting on deck to be washed were also two Jeep Wranglers and a black Benz G-Class SUV. The vehicles were already gleaming, but Oliver didn’t see the harm in a little extra pampering. He was about to be out of town for the next few weeks, after all.
Suds and water coated the wheel and rim, but Oliver wasn’t attacking the job with the same gusto he usually had for his vehicles.
Minka Gerald. She’d been an almost constant presence in his mind for days. She was a beauty who would not escape his notice, or his bed, until he was able to put his persuasive powers to the test. Yet his distinct...infatuation...was about more than that. It had to be. After all, he knew tons of lovely women. But one who had practically hypnotized him? What the hell was that?
Oliver grunted out a laugh and gave the sponge another dunking. Idiotic indeed. He grimaced. He’d barely spent two hours in the woman’s presence, and a fraction of that actually talking to her. There had certainly not been enough time for her to enchant him the way she had. Yet there he was, unable to get her out of his head.
Returning to the Jeep, Oliver attacked the job, scrubbing as if the act would set his thoughts to rights. It was some time before he faintly realized his name was being called. He quickly angled his tall frame out from under the vehicle when he recognized his father’s voice.
“Mine could stand a good wash, since it looks like you’re open for business.” Oscar Bauer laughed when he saw his only son stand up next to the soapy SUV.
Grinning easily, Oliver tossed aside the sponge. “Just giving them a last wash before I hit the road to Miami.”
“Yeah, I heard about the big meeting with Austin.” Oscar nodded. “Sounds like you’ve got things well in hand on our end.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” Oliver wiped his hands on the seat of the faded denim shorts that hung low on his lean hips. “Austin’s looking to pull in all kinds of new elements into this job.” He rounded the back of the vehicle where his father stood.
“Sounds interesting,” Oscar noted, his handsome caramel-toned face alight with curiosity.
“Yeah, interesting.” Oliver shared a skeptical grin. “He wants to display the photographs of the new offices at Vecs’s Miami gallery in the hopes of wooing new clients.”
“That boy.” Oscar chuckled. “He was always an out-of-the-box thinker.”
“That hasn’t changed.” Oliver rubbed his jaw while regarding his father more closely. “Everything okay, Pop?”
Stepping closer, Oscar clapped a hand to Oliver’s arm. “You know I’m proud of the work you’re doing, Oli. The way you’ve stepped into my place and assumed control, just the way a president should.”
Oliver gave his father a mockingly firm look. “Why do I feel like those words are about to be followed up by a huge but?”
Oscar squeezed his son’s arm again. “I only wanted you to know that I have no issues whatsoever with the way you’ve taken over the business. I could retire today, content in the knowledge that my life’s work will be well cared for.”
“I’m still hearin’ that but, Dad...” Oliver lost some of his playfulness.
“There’s no but, kid. Not the kind you’re expecting. I just don’t want to offend you.” Oscar managed a slight chuckle.
Doubt merging with concern, Oliver went to pull down the tailgate to one of the Cherokees. He patted the area, urging his father to sit. “Talk to me, Dad. What’s up? Really?”
Oscar leaned against the edge of the lowered tailgate, but didn’t sit. “Looks like we’re going to have to partner up for an upcoming meeting.”
“Partner up?” Oliver smiled curiously over the news. “Like when I was first learning the ropes, partner up?”
Oscar nodded, his easy expression showing signs of distress. “I know you don’t need me looking over your shoulder anymore, but tag-teaming this thing would be a good idea for this particular client.”
“Well, who is it?” Oliver folded his arms across the worn Lakers T-shirt that stretched over his broad chest.
“I’m still handling it more or less, but now with my impending retirement, it’s going to be important for them to understand that a changing of the guard is needed.”
“Is the guy difficult to work for or something?” Oliver asked.
The easiness returned to Oscar’s expression as he shared a cunning grin with his son. “The guy wasn’t difficult at all—he was a good friend as well as client—one I handled exclusively which is why you don’t know him. But he’s passed on, and his wife’s the client now.”
Oliver whistled, made a face. “How difficult is she?”
“Oh, not very difficult at all.” Oscar laughed over his son’s skeptical expression. “Seriously, she’s just, um...demanding and determined to see that her demands are met.”
“And she’s demanding that you be present for this meeting?”
“Not exactly.” Oscar leaned more heavily against the tailgate. “She doesn’t know I’m about to tell her you’ll be the one handling her land acquisition deals for the foreseeable future.”
From his seat on the tailgate, Oliver swung one sneaker-shod foot back and forth. “Has she been pleased with our work so far?”
“So far, yes. Very pleased.” Oscar scratched his whiskered jaw and looked out over the backyard. “She calls these meetings every cou
ple of years just to get face time with the folks who handle her money and other interests.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll be happy to be your wingman.” Oliver reached over to squeeze his father’s shoulder. “You think the client will put up much fuss about the change?”
“Nah.” Oscar waved off the concern. “She’s a pistol, but a sweetheart.”
“Well, she sounds lovely.” Oliver moved off the tailgate. “Anymore details you’d like to share? Such as a name?”
Oscar grinned knowingly. “Not a chance. I know you, and I don’t want you fixated on researching and trying to prepare yourself just yet.” He shrugged. “I only wanted you to put this on your radar. We can save the rest until after your big trip. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you to have fun while you’re in Miami?”
Oliver’s rakish grin was almost a replica of his father’s. “No, sir, such a reminder is totally unnecessary.”
“Ha!” Oscar fell in step with his son. “Don’t even know why I bothered.”
“Um...Dad?” Oliver’s steps slowed. “Are you ever...concerned about the way I live? The way I live my life?”
Oscar erupted into a rich round of laughter. “Where the hell did that come from?”
“It’s just with all the uh...all the women...” Oliver rubbed his fingers through his hair and gave the curls a tug. “Are you ever concerned that I won’t have anything more? Like you did with Mom?”
Oscar eased his hands into the deep front pockets of his gray trousers and graced his son with a probing look. “What’s gotten into you, Oli?”
“I don’t know.” Oliver shrugged, understanding that the question sounded crazy coming from him. “Just somethin’ Vecs said got me thinking...”
Oscar’s rich laughter returned behind an even greater force then. “Letting that girl get in your head as usual, huh?!”
Oliver smiled, conceding. “I thought she might have a point.”
Oscar curbed his laughter—some. “What’d she say, exactly?”
“Something about the difference between laughing because I’m happy and laughing because something’s funny.” Oliver shrugged, shook his head and commenced to rubbing at his curls again. “She said I’d understand what that meant when I was ready. I guess it’s something folks in love would get.”
“Hmph. I’ve been in love over half my life, but I’m still not quite sure I get your little sister’s philosophy on that one.”
The men shared a laugh, and then Oscar quieted.
“Being amused to the point of laughter is just a reaction to something at the moment,” he said, walking as he theorized. “Happiness is a condition—a state of being—something more sustaining. Only love instills happiness like that.”
A poignant gleam crept into Oliver’s light eyes as he studied his father and shrugged. “See? It’s something folks in love would get. Like I said.”
“Is that regret I’m hearing in your voice, kid?”
“More curiosity than regret, I think.” Oliver studied the ground as he spoke. “Dad when we...lost Mom...me and Vectra, we...we worried about you. It was scary to see what love and...the loss of it can do to a person, even a person as strong as you.”
Something haunted crossed Oscar’s face at the mention of his beloved late wife, Rose. “When I lost her, I hated the world and God for it. I wanted to shut them both out.” A smile fought through the darkness of his expression.
“No matter how raw I felt, how much it hurt...it was worth it. It was worth it to know love like that.” He looked at his son. “That’s what I want for you and your sister.”
“I’m afraid I’m a creature of habit, Dad.”
Oscar fell in step with his son as they headed toward the rugged A-frame in the heavily wooded outskirts of Carro land. “You know the best way to get rid of an old habit, son?” He clapped the middle of Oliver’s back. “Replace it with a new passion.”
South Beach, Miami
As soon as Minka crossed the threshold of Vectra Bauer’s stunning condo, she knew she wouldn’t be in the mood for the meetings and events scheduled for the Sharpe account.
The condo’s floor-to-ceiling windows offered sun-splashed glimpses of a large invisible pool beyond which lay the captivating brilliance of South Beach. Minka was certain that it would take her at least a week before she was ready to leave the gorgeous condo.
Scratch that, she was certain it would take her at least a week before she was ready to leave the master bathroom.
Rose-blush marble dominated the flooring as well as the shower and tub areas. It also ran the length of the counter space, merging into the rich dark oak finish of the cabinets at the rear of the split-level room. Golden light from electric candles outlined a recessed bay mirror from which a glass mantel protruded. The space supported a row of hand-carved brass candle holders filled with candles that highlighted the rose-blush color scheme.
The floor tiles were sparsely covered with plush area rugs of the same color. Minka decided the color had to be one of Vectra Bauer’s favorites. The rugs beckoned visitors to cast off socks and sink their toes into their warmth.
Despite the room’s warm spacious quality, the most show-stopping element had to be the tub. A work of art, the square rose-blush marble tub sat atop a platform made of the same oak as the cabinets.
Of course it was irresistible, so much so that Minka decided a long, bubbly soak would be first on her to-do list. She started to undress in the middle of the gorgeous bathroom, only pausing to select a bath gel from Vectra’s unbelievable stock of aromatherapy products located in a cabinet beneath the tub’s platform.
Ten minutes later, she was submerged in white foam and hot water. Laughter began to tickle her tummy as she relaxed for the first time in weeks.
She thought about her career so far. Going against the norm worked for her, and it had been a large factor in her decision to work outside her family’s company. The life of a working girl had suited her just fine. Now, her grandmother needed her to assume her rightful place at the head of BGI.
It went without saying that she was up for the challenge. She was perceptive enough to know that Qasim hadn’t given freedom or authority at Wilder because he was such a firm believer in delegating authority. But he knew her pedigree—knew she’d been business educated since she could talk. Now, she was about to see if all the preparation had paid off. As Qasim had said, it was another thing entirely to be the one sitting in the chair.
For the time being, however, she was content with lounging in a fabulously decadent tub. She fell into hypnotic bliss and lost track of time. The tub’s Jacuzzi setting massaged her tired body, and Minka could’ve pampered herself there for several more hours.
She decided against that. One couldn’t while away the hours when there was work to be done. Laughing softly over the idea, Minka made a lazy effort to leave the tub. The bubbles hadn’t completely dissolved, and they clung to her body even as the water sluiced down her belly and thighs. Stepping out of the tub, she discovered that the rugs delivered on their promise of plush comfort and warmth.
Relaxed and refreshed, Minka took a moment to admire herself in the big mirror.
“Guess I should’ve called first,” said a husky voice behind her.
She turned on a dime, forgetting that she was only covered by quickly dissipating bubbles. Her total focus was now on Oliver Bauer leaning against the door frame.
Chapter 4
“Vectra, she—she gave me a key.”
“That’s obvious.” Oliver’s smirk seemed to elevate the usual roguish light in his eyes as he listened to Minka stammer her explanation.
“I was just taking a bath...”
“I can tell.” The hungry intensity of his expression fused with something softer, more amused. He knew she was beyond nervous, and it was beyond endeari
ng.
Minka responded with an absent nod. She was still too stunned by the fact that Oliver Bauer was actually there in the doorway to remember that she was still naked. The bubbles and water had long since evaporated.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
His mouth twitched on the cusp of a grin, which he shielded by holding a hand to his jaw in the pretense of rubbing it. Once the need to smile had been somewhat stifled, he made an effort to reply. “I’ll explain if you don’t mind us continuing this downstairs? It’s getting pretty hard for me to think the way I should.”
When she continued to stare as if bewildered, Oliver took another pointed appraisal of her body. He began at the red-wine polish adorning her toes. The shade accentuated the dark chocolate flawlessness of her skin. What she lacked in height, she made up for in curves. His gaze settled to her chest—again. The firm, flawlessly dark globes heaved with an unknowing sensuality as she watched him with utter obliviousness.
Minka blinked slowly once, twice, as though she were rising out of a dreamy fog. At last her attention shifted, following the trail of Oliver’s stare, and taking in her state of undress.
“Right.” She sighed, then muttered an inaudible curse. She moved to the cabinets where she’d seen a collection of towels folded during her earlier inspection of the bath.
Clearing her head with a shake, she grabbed a towel. It wasn’t a bath sheet, but it would do. Quickly she wrapped herself in it and turned.
Oliver Bauer was gone.
* * *
The aroma of brewing coffee stimulated Minka’s nostrils as she crossed into the connecting bedroom suite. She’d left a robe on the bed, not bothering to carry it with her into the bath. Of course, then she hadn’t been expecting that she’d be visited by her hostess’s unfairly sexy older brother.
Those words, and all that they implied, echoed in her mind for a time. Minka gave another quick shake of her head in the hopes of warding off scorching images of what might have played out during their encounter.
Treasure My Heart Page 4