To Win Her Smile

by Mackenzie Crowne

  V nodded and stood. Jason and Piper did as well. Wyatt sliced his gaze between them as he slowly rose to his feet.

  Jason stuck out his hand to Piper. “Nice meeting you. I’m looking forward to our working together.”

  “As am I, and it was a pleasure meeting you as well.”

  “Wyatt.” Jason acknowledged him with a dip of his chin, then tucked the binder he carried under one arm and headed for the door. Piper stayed where she was.

  V plucked her jacket from the back of her chair and rounded her desk to stop in front of Wyatt. “I heard the doctor cleared you for a full workout today.”

  He nodded. V Fitzpatrick didn’t often show signs of uncertainty, but the hard-as-nails agent turned PR wiz was suddenly nowhere to be found. In her place was the woman he’d come to know as a friend.

  Guilt clouded her eyes. “I’m glad. I hated seeing you hurt.”

  Wyatt frowned. “V...”

  Rising on her toes, she pressed her cheek to his and spoke softly enough only he heard. “I’m sorry for the things I said, and I’m going to make it up to you.” She kissed his cheek, stepped back, and slid her arm into one sleeve of her jacket.

  Surprised by the unexpected apology, he wasn’t sure what to say. “Are we going somewhere?”

  “I’m meeting Sam downstairs.” She tugged the jacket up the other arm and adjusted the collar. “And you are taking Piper to dinner. The two of you have terms to negotiate and some major details to work out.”

  Chapter 8

  Wyatt assisted Piper from his swanky sports car and guided her toward the doors of a building on the Upper West Side. A valet slid into the driver’s seat as she eyed the building’s white brick exterior. There was no sign she could see, but then, that wasn’t so odd. During her engagement to Cody, they’d visited Manhattan often. On at least two occasions, they’d dined in five-star restaurants tucked away in non-descript locations. When she’d commented on the lack of advertisement out front, he’d laughed as if she’d said something funny.

  Apparently, the finest of restaurants didn’t require signage. Exclusive clientele were well aware of both the establishment’s address and who to contact to reserve a table.

  Clearly, Wyatt was part of that exclusive crowd. After settling her in the passenger seat of his fancy automobile, he’d made a call on his cell phone, informing whomever had answered that he and a guest would be arriving within twenty minutes. After a moment’s pause, he’d ended the short conversation with “Surprise us.”

  A uniformed doorman appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. He had the look of ex-military. Barrel-chested but trim, he moved with precision, his bearing proud as if coming to attention had long been a habit. Beneath the flat top cut of his silver hair, his dark-eyed gaze met Wyatt’s as he swung the door wide at their approach.

  “Good evening, Mr. Hunter. Miss.” He recognized Piper with a curt nod. She responded with a polite smile.

  “Good evening, Morris.” Wyatt slid his hand to the small of her back and led her inside. “Anything interesting happening?”

  “As a matter of fact…” The doorman’s sober gaze briefly flicked to Piper, then away.

  “It’s okay, Morris. Is there a problem?”

  “No problem, sir. Misses Tonya and Amanda arrived ten minutes ago. Miss Megan was close behind. They’re waiting for you upstairs.”

  A slight hesitation, then Wyatt nodded, and Piper bit her bottom lip. Having decided to take him up on his dual job offers, she was still wavering on the fling Moira had suggested, but was definitely considering it. If she could work up the nerve to broach the subject, and he agreed to her conditions, that was. But this…. Sitting down to dinner with three of Wyatt’s apparent harem wasn’t how she envisioned this evening going.

  She shot a wary glance heavenward. Was someone up there trying to tell her something?

  Battling a returning case of nerves, she pretended an interest in the empty seating area off to their right. Subtle wealth was evident in the two long, gunmetal gray leather couches separated by a black granite coffee table. White marble floors gleamed beneath the glow of subtle track lighting. The only color was provided by six enormous rubber plants. Like living pillars, they lined the walls in large, evenly spaced chrome pots.

  She startled as Wyatt urged her toward a bank of elevators on the far wall. Producing a key from the breast pocket of his leather bomber jacket, he inserted it in a lock beside the lift farthest to the left and twisted his wrist. The doors opened, and she blinked.

  Bloody hell. Had she thought exclusive? The man had his own key to the restaurant. Then again, he was a Hunter as well as a highly-paid athlete. He probably owned the building.

  Returning the key to his pocket, he escorted her inside the lift’s car and turned to face Morris beyond the doors in the lobby. She ventured a peek at Wyatt’s face. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but a rare tension tightened his features as he cued the single white button next to an identical red one.

  “How’s your mom doing, Morris?”

  A grin transformed the doorman’s sober face. “She’s taken herself a boyfriend, sir. A younger man. He’s seventy-nine and a half.”

  Wyatt chuckled as the doors slid closed. The car began its ascent and they both spoke at once.

  “Maybe we should forget tonight and meet at the complex tomorrow.”

  “Megan is my sister. Tonya is her best friend. Amanda is five.”

  Far more relieved than she should be, Piper turned and met his watchful gaze. They spoke in tandem a second time.

  “Why the hell would we forget tonight?”

  “Your sister and her friend?”

  Wyatt frowned. “I have a fairly good idea what my sister wants and the conversation won’t take long.” He jabbed the red button. The car lurched to a stop, and he turned to face her. “You and I, on the other hand, have a lot to talk about.” He stepped forward and she backed up until her shoulder blades brushed the car’s walls. “Like why you kissed me as if you couldn’t get enough, then left the country an hour later.” Bracing a hand on the paneling beside her head, he dipped his until she could make out the individual grayish striations in his green irises. “And why you’ve decided to come back.”

  Oh my. She was a woman who appreciated candor and honest speaking, but…

  She cleared her throat. “I hardly think questions of that nature are appropriate for mixed company.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. He looked left, then right, encompassing the entirety of the small space before facing her again. “Well, now, duchess, it looks like we’re all alone for the moment, so feel free to answer.”

  She stiffened. Duchess? “I’m not a….” She lifted her chin to demand, “Why ever would you refer to me as a duchess?”

  He grinned and shook his head. “Because you sure as hell go on like one.” His grin widened, and he tucked his curled fingers beneath her chin to close her gaping mouth. “That wasn’t an insult, duchess.” Silent laughter danced in his eyes. “You’ve got that whole…upper crust enunciation thing going, all softened by a sexy Scottish burr. I get hard every time you open your mouth.”

  Bugger. He’s the devil, Piper. Run and save yer arse. Now, while ye still have a fightin’ chance.

  She blinked, a bit too turned on to pay heed to the nag in her head. Still, someone had to keep the situation from spiraling out of control. Otherwise, there was a good chance she’d gain that carnal knowledge she yearned for right here in this three-by-three box.

  She dragged in a calming breath. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

  Twin dimples bracketed his mouth. “Do what? Speak the truth?”

  Ha! ‘Tis true he makes ye wet with his words and voice alone. The devil, I tell ya.

  Truer words were never spoken, but she wouldn’t be sharing that with Mr. Sexy Talk Quarterback. Not wh
ile riding in a lift about to join his sister and her friends in a restaurant full of people. She grabbed hold of the diversion as if it were a lifeline in a storm-tossed sea. “I’m sure your sister and friends are wondering where you are.”

  Reaching past him, she poked the red button. Nothing happened. She jabbed the white one and heaved a sigh of relief when the car jolted into motion.

  He shook his head, but only smiled as the car climbed to its unknown destination. The doors whooshed open, and he held out his hand, indicating she should precede him. She took one step and froze.

  Arching her neck, she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Why does this restaurant have a decidedly residential feel?”

  He coughed as if he were fighting laughter. “Maybe because it’s not a restaurant. Welcome to my home, Piper.”

  “Bollocks.” Her eyes widened at the escaped curse, and she whipped her head around to face what was obviously a lovely, private, foyer.

  She grimaced inwardly, but the blinding reminder that Wyatt Hunter played on an entirely different plane than most men was a good thing. If she ultimately decided to extend her association with him into the personal realm—and the way her limbs went weak whenever he was near left little doubt of which way she was leaning—there could be no more assuming. Carnal knowledge of the man was one thing, risking her heart was another. Spelling everything out so there could be no misunderstandings down the road was priority one in their pending negotiations.

  A childish squeal sounded from somewhere in the distance. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, one across her upper chest, the other spanning her belly, and spoke into her ear. “Would you do me a favor?”

  She nodded, her gaze focused on the end of the long hall off the foyer.

  “Promise me anything you see or hear in the next few minutes will go nowhere.”

  She tensed as V’s comments about his family name and the high visibility spotlight he lived in echoed in her head. Empathy tightened her throat. “It disturbs me that you feel you need to make that request in your own home. You shouldn’t have to.” She nodded briskly. “You have my word.”

  He was silent for a moment even as his chest swelled against her back with his deep breath. “Thanks. One more thing.” He rubbed his lips across her cheek in a soft kiss. “Try not to say too much until I’ve dealt with my sister or we’ll both be embarrassed.”

  Her eyes widened as he followed up his request with a subtle thrust of his hips against her bottom, delivering a hard reminder of his suggestive claim in the lift.

  “Unkie White. Unkie White!”

  After a brief squeeze, Wyatt dropped his arms and stepped around her to catch the hurtling ball of energy charging down the hallway. The little girl shrieked with laughter as he swung her high in the air before settling her against his chest and stomach. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and Piper gained a sudden understanding of his interest in Down syndrome research. Clearly afflicted with the physical abnormalities associated with the disorder, the girl’s broad facial features were lit by a gummy smile as she cupped his jaw in chubby hands.

  “I missed you.” She jerked her head back and forth in a rough nose rub. “To the moon. And. Back,” she finished with intense resolve.

  He grinned and dug his fingertips into her ribs until she shrieked with laughter. “I missed you, too, Mandy Candy.”

  The sudden clenching of Piper’s heart was as painful as it was unexpected. She’d only known Wyatt a few days and had spent much less time with him than that, yet she’d seen enough to know he was aware of the power infused in his smile. Sharp or cunning, innocent or suggestive, he wielded the weapon of his curled lips with precision to achieve his goals. But none of the smiles she’d witnessed so far could have prepared her for the complete and undeniable joy on his face at this precise moment.

  Love looked devastatingly beautiful on Wyatt Hunter.

  “She’s pwetty.”

  He turned to Piper. “Yes, she is. Her name is Piper.”

  “Pipah. Pipah.” Innocent concentration tightened the girl’s round face as she formed the sound with her lips.

  “That’s right. And this,” he adjusted the child until she rested on his hip, “is Mandy.”

  Piper smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mandy.”

  “Mandy Candy,” she corrected, her pudgy cheeks nearly eclipsing her eyes with her grin.

  “You’ve created a monster, Wyatt.”

  Piper turned to face the two women who had quietly followed Mandy down the hall. Both were blondes. One petite, the other tall. The shorter of the two shook her head.

  “She insists her teacher print her name that way on all her papers.” The smile she turned on Piper was open and friendly. She held out her hand. “I’m Tonya West. Amanda is mine.”

  Piper shook Tonya’s hand and murmured a greeting as she flicked a gaze toward the other woman. The tall blonde was obviously Wyatt’s sister. The eerily similar facial features and bone structure were unmistakable. Piper’s gaze landed back on Wyatt. Mandy had greeted him with her version of uncle, and then there were the eyes. Green irises flecked with gray. Anyone looking at them would assume they were related.

  “I’m Megan, Wyatt’s sister.” She was beautiful, as one would expect of Wyatt’s sibling, but her greeting was far cooler than Tonya’s had been and the tug of her lips appeared strained. “Tonya and I have been friends for years. When Amanda came along, we became roommates as well.” Megan’s soft laugh held what sounded to Piper like the edge of panic. “My brother horned in as he usually does to snag the label of honorary Unkie.”

  “Unkie White!” Mandy bounced in his arms.

  Piper smiled wanly, unsure of the purpose behind Megan Hunter’s detailed explanation of their various associations, and uncomfortable in the face of the woman’s obvious nerves.

  “Um,” Megan twisted her fingers together at the waist of her linen slacks. “I hope you don’t mind if I steal Wyatt for a few moments.” The look she gave her brother was almost pleading. “We have some urgent family business to discuss.”

  Wyatt sighed, but lowered Mandy to her feet. He patted the seat of her pink pants and she skipped into the living area to the left of the foyer. Clearly comfortable in his home, she opened a drawer on the coffee table, retrieved a remote, and aimed it at the incredibly large flat screen TV on the wall.

  He straightened and turned to Piper. “Do you mind? This won’t take long.”

  “Of course not.”

  Still, he hesitated. “The food I ordered should be here in a few minutes. I’ll be back before it arrives.” He glanced around, ignoring his sister as she cleared her throat. “Tonya, would you mind fetching Piper a glass of wine?” He turned back. “Or if you’d prefer, a cocktail?”

  “Wyatt.” Megan demanded his attention.

  Beyond uncomfortable, Piper forced a smile. His sister was becoming more agitated by the moment. “I’m fine, thank you. Go. I’m sure Tonya and I can manage a few minutes without you.”

  He hesitated another moment, then pinned Tonya with a narrow-eyed stare that would have frightened puppies. “Don’t let her leave. If she’s not here when I get back, I’m blaming you.”

  ****

  “Are you insane? Introducing that woman to Amanda?” Megan accused the moment he shut his bedroom door behind him.

  “That woman is my guest, and this is my home, in case you forgot.” Wyatt shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it onto the couch in the corner. “If you don’t want Mandy exposed to strangers, then you shouldn’t show up without calling first.”

  Megan’s shoulders dropped. “I know. I’m sorry, it’s just that...”

  “You’re in panic mode.”

  “Of course, I’m panicking.” She slumped onto the tufted ottoman at the foot of his bed. “He’s running, Wyatt. Which means we’ll all be under the microscope, e
ven more than usual. We can’t afford any mistakes at this late date.”

  “We?” He crossed his arms and held her in place with a stern stare. “If you’ll recall, I advised from the beginning that telling him the truth was the best call.”

  And for years, she’d ignored his continued predictions that not only was making herself invaluable to their father a waste of time and effort, her masochistic self-punishment would eventually blow up in her face. Now it was too late. In this age of opposition research, it was only a matter of time before Mandy’s true parentage was discovered. The moment that happened, neither her personal sacrifices nor the long hours Megan had put into helping their father get where he was would amount to jack shit.

  And not simply because Dad would consider her illegitimate daughter an unacceptable blight on the family portrait, which was one of her major fears. The bastard would see Mandy as exactly that, but was too skilled a politician not to recognize the potential upside to being the grandparent of a disabled child. No, Megan’s unforgivable sin would be in creating a situation whereby Richard Hunter was forced to spin a surprise story of this magnitude at the very moment he was set to grab hold of his ultimate victory.

  Wyatt sighed and shook his head. “Don’t kid yourself, Meg. That microscope we’ve grown up under is a cheap kid’s toy compared to the KGB style anal probes that are about to be launched. The minute Dad’s press announcement is over, his primary competition will be all over us like stink on shit. If they aren’t already. And their research machines are nothing compared to what he’ll face in the general election.”

  She groaned, squeezed her eyes shut, and dropped her chin to her chest.

  Rolling his eyes heavenward, Wyatt slid onto the bench and wrapped an arm around her. “Tell him, Meg. The longer you wait, the worse it’ll be.”

  The harshness of her laugh bounced her shoulders. “I can’t.” Her eyes gleamed with resolve in her sidelong glance. “You, of all people, know what it’s like to live in the reflective glare of Daddy’s shadow. I can’t do that to my little girl. I won’t. Not willingly.” She burrowed closer to his chest the way she had when she’d been little herself and needed her big brother to chase away the monsters. “If the truth comes out, I’ll deal with Daddy’s wrath, but if there is a chance Amanda can live her life free of the public eye, I have to give it to her.”