by Erika Kelly
“It’s not cool, and I can guarantee you won’t find this flower anywhere but right here. It grows in very particular soils and climates, and it only blooms in late spring and early summer, and only for a few weeks. It’s precious. It’s rare. It’s…” She blew out a breath. “Were you going to plow up the whole field?”
“’Course not. Just right there, where I’m building my house.” He pointed to the site. Wooden stakes with neon orange flags delineated the area.
“You can’t build anything here.” Her pale features flamed red. “This is a national park.”
Well, that explained what she was doing on the Bowie ranch. “Nope. You’re standing on private property.”
“You own this lot?”
Lot. He suppressed a grin. “It my family’s ranch, but yeah, I’ve staked out this parcel for me.”
She surveyed the acreage. “Just one house?”
He kind of wanted to play with her for a minute, given how worked up she was over some flowers. “Might turn it into a development. I’m thinking forty-fifty nice little ranch-style houses. Community center and a gym.” He cast an assessing look on the land. “Probably have room for a tennis court. Maybe an Olympic-size pool.”
Sweat beaded over her lip, and her body vibrated with tension. “Okay, look, I will buy this whole piece of land from you.”
“The whole thing? Land’s pretty expensive here.”
“Would you please stop playing with me? I’m serious about this.”
He liked this woman. She was sharp, beautiful, and passionate. He wondered what she did for the princess. “I can see that, but it’s not for sale.”
“I’ll pay you market value. We can go into town right now and talk to an estate agent.”
What the hell was she up to? “Aren’t you from St. Christophe?”
“Yes, I am.” Her tone said, So?
“So, what’re you going to do with a couple hundred acres in the middle of my family’s ranch in Wyoming?”
All at once she relaxed, as though she’d finally found a way to get what she wanted. “My family runs a perfume company. Nocturne?”
He actually knew that one. It was his mom’s “signature scent.” Out of nowhere, a childhood memory hit him. He and his brothers wrestling in his mom’s New York City bedroom, crashing into her dressing table and knocking over all the fancy bottles and jars. He would never forget the scent of that perfume, since it had lingered in the apartment, and he’d had to smell it every day until his mom had shipped them back to their dad.
Still, he wasn’t seeing the connection. “Okay?”
“St. Christophe’s a mountain town in the Alps at the same elevation as Calamity. The soil and climates are similar. I wondered if I’d find our own lyantha here. This isn’t it, but it’s in the same family.” She held out the bulb. “I’m a perfumer, and I’ve been trying to convince my family to expand our offerings for years. I’ve dreamed of finding another flower in the same genus, so I could convince them to try something new—but still within our brand. This is it.”
“Huh. So, I’ve got something special here.”
“Well, it’s special to me. Ours is the most exotic and unique scent in the world, and I’m betting I can make an equally good perfume out of this one. I understand if you can’t sell a parcel of your family’s land, but would you at least consider leasing it to me? I can give you a very lucrative contract.”
He was done messing around. It obviously meant a lot to her. “Not gonna happen. We’re breaking ground on my house next week.”
He could see her mind working, intelligence firing in her eyes.
Interest kicked up. Brodie liked a challenge. Show me what you’ve got.
“Nocturne is the world’s most expensive perfume. It comes from an essential oil my family’s been making for centuries. I could do the same thing with this flower. I could make you a very wealthy man.”
Maybe because he wore jeans and a well-worn T-shirt, he looked like he needed cash. He didn’t know. But, while his dad’s estate was worth billions, he and his brothers had always lived on their own earnings. And they all did pretty well for themselves. “I don’t need much.”
“Well, this is about more than your bank account. This is about creating a legacy for your family, your children…generations to come. Providing the essential oil for House of Villeneuve…it’s an honor. It—”
“Can’t really see myself having kids.”
“Oh, my God. This is not a game to me.” She growled out her frustration. “Look, now that you know about this rare plant, you can see how criminal it would be to plow it up. Especially when you can build a house anywhere on this property.”
“I don’t know about criminal, but I do know I’m only plowing one little section of it. Besides, they’re bulbs. I can always dig them up and plant them somewhere else.” Okay, so he’d play with her just a little.
Her gaze turned steely. “I’d like to gain exclusive rights to this flower on your property. I’ll pay you for the annual use of the land as we collect the petals and then assure you a dividend as long as we make and sell the product.”
Christ. Time to get back to work. “Look, I don’t need your money. I’m not selling or leasing the meadow. But I’m always down for a new business project, so thanks for cluing me into some value on our land I didn’t know about. I’ll be sure to look into the essential oil thing.” He turned back to his bulldozer.
“Hang on, what does that mean?”
“It means, if it’s as good as you say, I might want to use it in my hotel’s spa products. What we have now’s kind of bland. Something like cucumber and Earl Gray.” He reached down and picked up another bulb, sniffed it. It was nice. “Isn’t the sense of smell the strongest memory trigger? Every time a tourist uses our body lotion or wash, she’ll remember her great trip to that old wild west town in Wyoming.” Yeah, this was a good idea.
Her laugh held no amusement. “It’s not that simple. You can’t just bottle the smell. It took years to get the Nocturne formula just right, and it’s got proprietary ingredients.”
“I’ll tell you what. I have no interest in getting into the perfume business. How about you create the essential oil and then we’ll work together? I’ll use it for my hotel, and you can use it for your perfume company.”
“Oh, no. My parents would never go for that. We’d have to have exclusive rights.”
“And since that’s not going to happen, there’s nothing left to talk about. Let me know if you need help finding your way back to town.”
“I can’t…I can’t just let this go. This is too important.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not giving you the rights to a plant that grows on my property. If I want to make something out of it, I’ll hire a chemist or…perfume maker. Whatever I need.”
“I’m a chemist and a perfumer. Let me just explain something to you. Almost all perfumes and certainly all body lotions are composed of synthetic ingredients. You don’t need these flowers to make a good, quality product. Using an essential oil is extremely costly and, frankly, isn’t worth it when you’re just making toiletries for your hotel. It’s only worth it if you’re going to have a luxury perfume.”
“Got it. Thanks for that.” He gave her a look that said, We done?
“You really won’t make a deal with me, even after I’ve explained that you’ve got no use for it?”
“Nope. I won’t. And now I’m getting back to work.”
“Plowing up more lyantha?”
He put his thumb and forefinger together. “Just a tiny bit more.”
Her expression, as she took in the meadow, hit him right in the solar plexus. This mattered to her.
Had anything ever mattered this much to him?
He thought about the way he’d bailed on Owl Hoot…just stopped paying attention to it. The same with designing Olympic half pipes. He’d moved on without even thinking about his team or the design company.
He climbe
d back on the bulldozer and turned the key. It roared to life, but the woman didn’t budge, her focus on the meadow.
“Hey.” He shouted, but she couldn’t hear him over the rumble of the engine. Dammit.
But then she turned to him, her face glowing with inspiration. Pink flooded her cheeks, and she gave him a smile so beautiful it made his heart pound. She waved him over.
He cut the engine and jumped off the machine. “What?”
“How about this? What if my family uses the flowers for House of Villeneuve, but we have an exclusive contract with you to provide the toiletries for your spa? You’d be the only hotel in the world that offered our products.” Her smile widened. “And we wouldn’t charge you for it.”
He liked the way her mind worked. “As long as I get a percentage of the profits, I’d take a deal like that all day long.”
Happiness flooded her features. “Yes.”
“This means a lot to you.”
“This is my heart, right here.” Delicately, she caressed a red petal. “I’ve just recently created bath and body products for Nocturne, so the formula’s already made. With everything in place, it won’t take long to get this product up and running.”
He pulled the key from the ignition and locked up the bulldozer. “Looks like I’ve got to find a new building site.”
Chapter Five
He had his own Cyberpedia page. “An Olympic hopeful?” That’s impressive. Rosalina clicked on the Images bar and couldn’t believe how many photographs appeared for Brodie Bowie. Good God, she’d never seen a more handsome man. Thick, dark hair, bright blue eyes…and that smoking hot body? Broad shoulders, bulging biceps.
The door to the suite flew open, and a sting of embarrassment shot through her.
“They didn’t have baking trays, but will these work?” Harrison held up aluminum roasting pans. Behind him, Gustav came in, arms loaded with grocery bags.
“They’re perfect, thank you.” Rosalina closed out the search engine, pushed aside her laptop, and got up from the kitchen table. She hoped they hadn’t seen her screen. What’re you doing looking him up, you stalker? “I’m so excited.”
Harrison set the bags on the counter and pulled out a bottle of palm oil. “You realize you’re only in town for four more days, and instead of getting out there and seeing the sights, you’re working.”
“Oh, come on. This is a huge discovery.” And one that might not go anywhere. Her parents would never agree to let some random hotel in the middle of nowhere use the House of Villeneuve’s signature scent for their bath products, and Brodie had made his position perfectly clear…so yeah, not looking good.
But that wouldn’t stop her. If people worried about all the reasons why something wouldn’t work, nothing would ever get done.
Brodie. He’d been so detached. Aloof. And yet something about him made her heart pound and her skin tingle. As the daughter of a ruling prince, she’d grown up around dignitaries, kings, and queens. She didn’t intimidate easily. But Brodie Bowie scrambled her brains.
Well, until it came to his lyantha. She’d fight to the death for her flowers.
“Besides,” she said. “This phase isn’t time-consuming.” The petals needed to steep in the oil before she could replace them with fresh ones. “I’ll get out there after I set everything up.”
“You know, you could’ve gone to the store with us,” Harrison said. “No one’s going to recognize you here. It’s a whole different world.”
“We could get you some cowboy boots and a jean skirt,” Gustav said. “Then, you’ll look like a local.”
“I’m not going to be here long enough.” Although the idea of being totally unrecognizable—reinventing herself—gave her a thrill. All those things Marcel said they couldn’t do…she could do them here.
With Brodie.
Shut up. That’s never going to happen.
“This place is crazy,” Gustav said. “We drove past a bunch of people staring at a swamp.” He tipped his head toward Harrison. “I made him stop so I could get out of the car. I asked what everyone was looking at, and someone pointed out a moose. Can you believe it? I looked at it through binoculars.” He pulled paper towels out of a sack and set them on the counter. “At least go into town. I’ve never seen anything like it. They’ve got a store that sells stuffed, dead animals. And it smells amazing.”
“The dead animals?” she asked.
“The barbecue,” Harrison said.
As she set the petals in the pan, she could feel Harrison watching her. He’d been with her since childhood, so she knew him well. “I know what you’re thinking, but I’m telling you, the wheel would never have been invented if everyone had said, ‘Don’t bother, your parents will never approve.’”
Harrison released one of his deep-throated chuckles. “You got me there.”
She lifted a petal to her nose and breathed it in. “I can’t believe it. This is even better than our flower.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Harrison stuffed all the sacks into one bag and set them on the counter.
“Of all the people in the world to work with me, I have someone with no sense of smell.”
“I don’t work with you, Princess,” Harrison said. “I work for you.”
She gazed up at him with an affectionate smile. “Says the man who shared an entire box of macarons with me at the top of the Arc de Triomphe as we watched the sunset.” Pouring enough palm oil to cover the petals, she handed off one pan to Harrison and pulled the other one forward. “This won’t be perfect, but at least we’ll get a sense—”
Someone banged on the door. The three of them exchanged confused glances, until Gustav went to answer it.
“Lookin’ for Rosie.”
Gustav’s big body blocked her view, but she didn’t need to see him to recognize that deep, gravelly voice. It roused an awareness deep inside her.
And Rosie? Why did she love the sound of that? Especially in a voice she’d only expect to hear first thing in the morning when she was snugged against his body, his erection hard against her bottom.
What?
Where did that come from?
She turned back to her pan. “It’s Brodie. You can let him in.”
“Sir,” her bodyguard said. “What can I do for you?”
“Your boss around?” Brodie said.
Afraid of her reaction to him, she took a moment to cover the petals with oil. Then, bracing herself, she wiped her hands on a dishcloth and turned to face him.
Oh. My. God. It was one thing to see him outside, when she was all worked up over the meadow; another thing entirely to have him consuming all the space in her hotel room.
His dark brown hair looked as if he’d just scraped a hand through it, and his blue eyes zeroed in on her with such intensity she got a jolt to her chest.
“Good morning.” Her voice actually shook.
That’s embarrassing.
“Hey.” He gave her a chin nod. “The Princess around?” He glanced around the large living area of the three-bedroom suite.
She and her bodyguards shared a look before they all grinned. In St. Christophe—or anywhere in the world she might be photographed or recognized—she dressed like a princess. But, in her lab, she wore plain clothes, no accessories, and very little make-up. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Princess Rosalina.” In America, people shook hands, so she reached for his.
His big hand engulfed hers, and the rough, calloused texture came as a surprise since the men in her world had smooth palms. Everything about him threw her off-kilter. He was just so rugged, so big and charismatic. He looked her straight in the eye, his grip firm and sure, and it made her feel as giddy as meeting her celebrity crush in person.
The way he held her gaze—as if he didn’t need a search engine to take her measure—unearthed something foreign…something so primal and raw, it made her skin go clammy.
What would those hands feel like on her skin?
Scraping over
my nipples? A current of electricity ripped through her, as images filled her mind. Her hands full of all that thick, silky hair, her legs wrapped around his hips, her breast stuffed in that hot, wet, expressive mouth.
His virility shook her.
And scared the heck out of her.
He released her hand. “I thought you said you were a chemist and a perfume maker?”
Hoping to calm down, she forced a princess smile. “I’ll bet you’re more than a hotel owner, a bulldozer driver, and a home builder?”
“You got me there.”
“What can I do for you? Please tell me you’ve reconsidered and are here to sign an exclusive contract for your lyantha?”
“Ah, no such luck.” He did a quick sweep of her body, taking in the beige capri pants and striped boat-neck T-shirt. “Knox asked me to stop by, make sure you’re okay. She was expecting you at the fitting. Apparently, you haven’t returned her texts.”
She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I completely forgot.” The wedding gown.
The wedding.
And that was all it took to sink back into the bubbling vat of betrayal. For a few hours, immersed in her work, she’d forgotten all about the reason she no longer had an assistant to remind her about her appointments. “Is it too late? Can I still make it?”
“You flew all the way out here. She’s available whenever you want.”
“Great. Let me get changed, and I’ll head over there.” She looked to Harrison. “Do you have directions?”
“I do.”
“You can just follow me,” Brodie said. “I’m on my way there anyhow to help Knox with some technical issues with her new website.”
“Give me five minutes,” Rosalina said.
He seemed surprised. “It only takes you five minutes to turn into a princess?”
“You got a timer on that fancy watch? Start it now.”
She headed for the bedroom but stopped when she heard him ask, “So, what’s cookin’?”
“She’s making an essential oil out of the flower petals,” Harrison said.