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Too Tough To Tame
Annette Broadrick
“She’s gotten to you, hasn’t she, Nick?”
Dominic Chakiris glanced at Craig Bonner, his friend and vice president of his extensive corporate holdings.
“The only reason I had Kelly MacLeod investigated was to find out why some woman I’ve never met had the gall to paint a portrait of me and publicly display it.”
“I understand there’s a waiting list for the privilege of having her do a portrait.” Craig grinned. “You should be flattered.”
“The portrait is far from flattering. It portrays me as hard and ruthless, a predator ready to pounce on unsuspecting prey.”
“Actually, it looks just like you.”
Nick shook his head as Craig strolled out of the office. On impulse, he called the unlisted number his investigator had included in Kelly MacLeod’s file. He waited through several rings before a sultry voice asked the caller to leave a message.
“This is Dominic Chakiris,” he said after the beep. “I believe it’s time we met.”
Dear Reader,
It’s that time of year again…for decking the halls, trimming the tree…and sitting by the crackling fire with a good book. And we at Silhouette have just the one to start you off—Joan Elliott Pickart’s The Marrying MacAllister, the next offering in her series, THE BABY BET: MACALLISTER’S GIFTS. When a prospective single mother out to adopt one baby finds herself unable to choose between two orphaned sisters, she is distressed, until the perfect solution appears: marry handsome fellow traveler and renowned single guy Matt MacAllister! Your heart will melt along with his resolve.
MONTANA MAVERICKS: THE KINGSLEYS concludes with Sweet Talk by Jackie Merritt. When the beloved town veterinarian—and trauma survivor—is captivated by the town’s fire chief, she tries to suppress her feelings. But the rugged hero is determined to make her his. Reader favorite Annette Broadrick continues her SECRET SISTERS series with Too Tough To Tame. A woman out to avenge the harm done to her family paints a portrait of her nemesis—which only serves to bring the two of them together. In His Defender, Stella Bagwell offers another MEN OF THE WEST book, in which a lawyer hired to defend a ranch owner winds up under his roof…and falling for her newest client! In Make-Believe Mistletoe by Gina Wilkins, a single female professor who has wished for an eligible bachelor for Christmas hardly thinks the grumpy but handsome man who’s reluctantly offered her shelter from a storm is the answer to her prayers—at least not at first. And speaking of Christmas wishes—five-year-old twin boys have made theirs—and it all revolves around a new daddy. The candidate they have in mind? The handsome town sheriff, in Daddy Patrol by Sharon DeVita.
As you can see, no matter what romantic read you have in mind this holiday season, we have the book for you. Happy holidays, happy reading—and come back next month, for six new wonderful offerings from Silhouette Special Edition!
Sincerely,
Gail Chasan
Senior Editor
Too Tough to Tame
Annette Broadrick
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is dedicated to
Donna Hensley who—during computer crashes
(and accompanying tears!)
and helping me to find the parts
that needed to be retyped—stayed calm,
gentle and always on call to explain to
me the mysteries of computers.
The truth is,
I really couldn’t have done this one without you!
Your grateful cousin…
ANNETTE BROADRICK
believes in romance and the magic of life. Since 1984, Annette has shared her view of life and love with readers. In addition to being nominated by Romantic Times as one of the Best New Authors of that year, she has also won the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best in its Series; the Romantic Times WISH Award; and the Romantic Times Lifetime Achievement Awards for Series Romance and Series Romantic Fantasy.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter One
October 2003
“S he’s really gotten to you, hasn’t she, Nick?”
Dominic Chakaris glanced over at Craig Bonner, his friend and the vice president of Nick’s extensive corporate holdings.
“Hell, no. The only reason I had her investigated was to find out why some woman I’ve never met had the gall to paint a portrait of me and publicly display it.” Nick resumed staring at the view from his office high above the canyons of New York City, his hands in the pockets of his custom-made suit.
“Uh-huh,” Craig replied.
Nick turned away from the view and walked to his desk. His cold gaze met Craig’s as both men sat, Craig in front of Nick’s massive desk, Nick sprawled in his chair. “What did our investigator find out?” Nick asked.
Craig had known Nick for more than ten years. He wasn’t intimidated by the hawklike stare of his esteemed leader. He was probably the only one in Manhattan who could say that and not be lying through his teeth.
Okay, so he should have known Nick would deny that the artist and her portrait of him had been like a thorn in his foot, one that had festered since he’d learned of the painting’s existence.
Being a diplomat by nature, Craig said no more. He glanced at the file in his hand and slid it across the desk to Nick, who flipped it open.
“According to our investigator’s file,” Craig said, “the artist’s full name is Kelly Anne MacLeod, age twenty-four. Her parents are dead and she resides alone in the family home on 81st Street. She majored in art history at Vassar. She spent her junior year in Italy and currently brings in a healthy amount of money for the portraits she paints. I understand there’s a waiting list for the privilege of having her do a portrait.” He lifted one shoulder and grinned. “See, I told you that you should be flattered.”
Nick muttered something obscene—causing Craig to laugh—and said, “Is this all you have?” He lifted the few sheets of paper and nodded at the photo attached to the inside cover of the file.
“There wasn’t much to discover. She doesn’t appear to be a stalker, which you should find immensely reassuring,” Craig replied, enjoying Nick’s discomfort. He was glad not to hear what Nick continued to mutter beneath his breath.
“Nothing here indicates why she chose to place my portrait on public display. Damn it, Craig, I don’t care about her orphaned state or how much money she makes. From what I can see,” he said, closing the file, “she appears to be like any other debutante, another pampered member of New York’s elite.” A class of people, Nick silently added, that he had little use for. “And I’m not flattered, as you very well know. Besides, the damned portrait is far from flattering.”
Craig grinned. “Actually, it looks just like you.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “Is that right? The review of her show in the Times said that the portrait portrays me as hard and ruthless, a predator ready to pounce on some unsuspecting prey.”
Craig grinned. “As I said, it looks just like you. Maybe I should take some candid photos of you at one of the board meetings and prove my point.”
Nick stared balefully at his second-in-command and said, “Since you have little to add to this conversation, I’ve got work to do.”
“I would imagine that what’s really bothering you is the fact that Ms. MacLeod has accurately pegged you and you don’t like it. She appears to know you quite well.”
Nick shook his head. “That’s impossible.” He studied the photograph.
“I doubt that you could forget having met her.” Craig stood and gave Nick a mock salute before he strolled out of the office.
Nick watched him close the door. He didn’t like mysteries…and the reason behind the portrait of him was definitely a mystery. He’d received so many phone calls and comments about the damned thing that he’d gone to the gallery to see what the stir was about…and received the shock of his life.
There was no question that the painting was exceptionally well done, but he couldn’t fathom why he’d been chosen as its subject, or why the artist had portrayed him as she had.
There were no photographs of him that resembled the artist’s vision. But the painting unnerved him—made him feel as though she’d invaded his privacy.
He focused on the photograph once again. She had pale blond hair and wore it pulled back from her face. Very few women could wear that austere style. Kelly was an exception.
Her intensely blue eyes stared into the camera with humor lurking in their depths. She had the beginnings of a smile curving her lips.
Looking closer, he realized that he had, in fact, seen her before.
He sat back in his chair, put his hands behind his head and recalled the night he’d first noticed her.
He avoided large social occasions as much as possible but in this case he’d felt obligated to go. A business associate had rented one of the city’s largest ballrooms to honor his daughter for something. Maybe it was an engagement party.
Nick made it a point whenever he found it necessary to attend such a party to greet the people he knew and listen to any business gossip that reached his ear. Then, once he’d spoken to the host, he left, thankful another painful duty had been fulfilled.
On that night he had paused in the doorway to look over the crowd when he saw her. She was dancing and the light from the chandeliers made her hair look like liquid gold. She’d worn it pulled back to the crown of her head where the soft curls tumbled to her shoulders in studied disarray.
He looked to see if he knew her companion. He didn’t. Then he searched for someone that he knew to ask who she was.
By the time he’d struck up a conversation with an acquaintance the song had ended and she’d disappeared.
On his way out of the party a little later she had passed by him within a couple of feet, laughing at something said by one of the women she was with. He’d caught a hint of her light, floral perfume and saw that she was shorter than he’d first thought. Although she looked young, she exuded a self-confidence and grace that intrigued him.
Now he knew who she was. Her name was Kelly MacLeod.
He was intrigued to discover she was the artist who’d painted that damned portrait.
On impulse, Nick placed a call to the unlisted phone number his investigator had included. He waited through several rings before a sultry voice said, “Hi, this is Kelly. I can’t interrupt the temperamental muse to take your call at the moment. Please leave your name, number and any message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I escape her clutches.”
“This is Dominic Chakaris,” he said after the beep. “I believe it’s time that we met in person. Call me at 555-1966.”
He hung up and drummed his fingers restlessly on the arm of his executive chair.
Damn, he didn’t have time for this. He was already late for a meeting, the outcome of which would determine whether he was going to be spending more than three million dollars on a run-down factory that he wanted.
The intercom rang and he knew his assistant was reminding him of the time. He stood, slid on his suit coat, adjusted his tie and strode out of the room, dismissing Kelly MacLeod from his mind.
“I’m not joking, Hal,” Kelly said to her luncheon companion. “I’ve never met the man, so I’m afraid I can’t help you.” She took a bite of her salad and casually glanced around the crowded restaurant. Despite the prices, customers flocked to the place—drawn, no doubt, by the excellent chef working his magic in the kitchen.
When she looked back at her companion, she saw that Harold Covington wasn’t going to give up. “I’ve known you your entire life, Kelly,” he said as soon as he had her attention, “so don’t try to put me off. You could not have produced a portrait that captured the character of the man so brilliantly without knowing him extremely well.”
Kelly met his steady gaze. “I don’t have a rational explanation for you, Hal. I’ve never been introduced to him, but a person can’t pick up a paper without reading something about him in either the business section or the lifestyle section. Plus I’ve seen him at various social functions during the past few years and had idly thought about what a fascinating subject he would make. That’s all it was, an idle thought.
“Then when I discovered that he was behind the takeover of our family business, I couldn’t get the man out of my mind. To think that at one time I’d actually admired him! His ruthless disregard for anyone or anything that stands in the way of building his already gigantic empire was responsible for Dad’s losing the business and worrying himself into a heart attack. And then mother lost the will to live.
“I decided to work out my anger and grief by painting him. From the feedback I’ve received, I gather that I’ve done a good job of portraying the man who destroyed my family!”
Hal sighed and shook his head. “You were my best hope. All I know is that someone is checking into Covington & Son Industries behind the scenes,” Hal said. “It has all the signs of a hostile takeover.”
Kelly paused, her fork halfway to her mouth and said, “And you think I could walk up to him—even if I knew him—and ask if he’s making a run for your company?” When Hal didn’t answer she took a sip of iced tea. “From everything I’ve heard about Mr. Chakaris,” Kelly continued after a pause, “only his closest associates know of his plans until after he’s swooped down and captured another business.”
“I know. It was a long shot to think you knew him well enough to help me.”
They had finished their salad before Kelly asked, “Do you really think he’s behind whoever’s checking into Covington Industries?”
Before Hal could formulate a reply, the waiter arrived with their entrées. Once he left, Hal said, “All I know is that someone appears to be interested in us. You know that the economic downturn has affected many companies. We’ve all been hard hit. I’m doing what I can to keep my business afloat, but if someone is determined to pursue a takeover they must know how vulnerable the company is right now. I borrowed money to make capital improvements a couple of years ago. If I’d had a crystal ball and known what was coming, I would have postponed them. And now if I were sure Chakaris is planning a takeover, I’d borrow from my wife’s family to repay some of those loans—but I don’t want to do that unless I absolutely have to. Of course I know that your field of expertise is art, not business. All of this probably makes no sense to you.”
Kelly leaned back in her chair and gazed at the man who had been her father’s closest friend. “That has to be one of the most patronizing remarks I’ve ever heard from you, Hal. Next you’re going to pat me on the head and suggest I go play in my sandbox while the adults deal with the matter.”
Hal flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean my comment to sound that way. As far as that goes, Arnie has a degree in business, sits in on all the board meetings and actually shows up at work two or three days each week. Despite his education and his experience, he shows absolutely no interest in the company. If I had to guess, I would say that you have a better grasp of the business world than he does.”
She touched his hand, which lay on the table beside his plate. “I know you’re disappointed in Arnold, Hal, but give him time. He’s still young.”
He looked at her with amused disbelief. “Kelly, he’s five years older than you.”
She grinned. “Ah, so he is.”
“I can’t tell you how disappointed I was when the two of you showed no interest in each other. Our families have always been so close. It would have been such a blessing if you had become a member of our family.”
Okay, Kelly said to herself, use a little tact here. There was no reason to tell a doting father that his only son and heir was a complete jerk. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Arnold Covington completely sober and he went through women faster than the Concorde could cross the Atlantic.
“As you pointed out, my world is considerably different from his,” she finally said. She hoped he would assume she was talking about art and business.
“All I’m trying to say is that I have no hard facts to back up my suspicions—just rumors. Chakaris’s name has come up more than once. That’s usually the only hint an owner gets before he grabs your company out from under you. He’s ruthless, you know.”
“Don’t forget that I have firsthand knowledge of his tactics, Hal,” she reminded him.
Once again Hal flushed. “I’m sorry, honey. I wasn’t thinking.” He turned his attention to his food and they lightly chatted through the rest of the meal. Once coffee was served, Hal said, “You seem to be adjusting to being alone these days. I hope that’s true and not just an image you’re determined to project. I know how close you were to your mother.”
“I know Mom is happy to be with Dad again, Hal. She was never the same after he died. Even though three years had passed, I’ll always feel that she died of a broken heart.
“Anyway, with a housekeeper and others looking after the place and caring for me, I’m far from alone.”
“You know what I mean. You must get lonely there.”
“At times, yes, of course. On the upside, I wouldn’t have been able to produce enough paintings in time for my showing if I hadn’t thrown myself into my work. Staying busy gave me a chance to distance myself from the immediate shock of losing Mother so unexpectedly…until I could better deal with her being gone.”
“So your painting helped you. I’m glad.”
“As a matter of fact, I’ve set this week aside to go through Mother’s belongings. I should have done it sooner, but it was too painful. Anyway, I need to decide what I want to keep and what to give away. Her room is pretty much the way she left it. I know the housekeeper has seen that it’s been kept clean, but the actual sorting of her belongings has been left to me. Even though it’s been almost a year, I haven’t felt I was ready to face that duty before now.”
Kelly glanced at her watch. “As much as I’ve enjoyed having lunch with you, Hal, I really need to return home and start on it. The sooner I begin, the sooner the chore will be done.”
Hal stood and pulled out her chair for her. “And I need to get back as well. I’m sorry I haven’t stayed in closer touch with you, my dear. I hope you’ll forgive me for being so wrapped up in my own affairs.”
Kelly gave him a quick hug. “There’s nothing to forgive. You’ve always been only a phone call away. I know if I ever needed you, you’d be there for me.”
Once they were on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant, Hal turned to Kelly and took her hand. “It was good to see you again, Kelly. We need to do this more often.” The doorman had signaled for a taxi and when eventually one stopped, Hal put Kelly inside and paid the cabbie as he gave him the address.
She waved at Hal before settling into the seat and thinking about their luncheon conversation. She knew Hal would probably have sought her out anyway, but she was uneasy that he was desperate enough to ask her to spy for him.
If Dominic Chakaris had his eye on Covington & Son, he would be a formidable foe. She could certainly sympathize with Hal.
Once home, Kelly checked her phone messages and found four calls waiting.
A member of one of her mother’s charity groups had called to ask Kelly to attend a meeting the next day, no doubt in hopes that Kelly would take over her mother’s position.
Another call was from Anita Sheffield, a friend from college she hadn’t spoken to in several months. She jotted down her number, sorry she hadn’t been there to take Anita’s call.
There was a hang up and then she discovered that Dominic Chakaris had left a rather abrupt message. She shivered at the sound of his voice. How strange that he should have called her right after she and Hal had been discussing him.
She played his message over. She wondered how he’d gotten her unlisted number…although a man of his power and connections probably wouldn’t have any trouble. No doubt he had a staff of spies to do his bidding.
Not that it mattered. She had more or less expected to hear something from him since she’d placed his portrait in the gallery with her other work.
Hal’s question about why she had painted the portrait was one she had repeatedly asked herself during the past several months. Dominic Chakaris had become an obsession with her—her nemesis. His actions had destroyed her family, yet she doubted that he would recognize the family name if she confronted him with it.
Instead of a fruitless confrontation with the man, she had painted him. Even she had been amazed at how quickly she’d been able to transfer her vision of him to canvas. There had been times when she felt that her hand was guided. She’d worked day and night on the project, barely eating, sleeping for only a few hours at a time before she once again found herself with brush in hand before the canvas.
She remembered the day she’d finished. She’d stood back and looked at the painting as objectively as possible and had known that it was the best work she’d done in her career. She had captured the ruthlessness, the arrogance, that she saw in the man.
However, the expression in his eyes had surprised her. She hadn’t thought of him as lonely or vulnerable and yet…there he was, staring back at her, revealing a bleakness that she had never noticed before…at least consciously. She had no idea why she’d painted him that way.
The irony of her present situation was that she had never intended to publicly display the portrait. After all, she had painted it as a catharsis of some kind, to help her get through her grieving process. When Andre, the gallery owner who was presenting an exhibit of her work, had come to her studio to discuss what paintings he wanted to display, she’d given no thought to the painting. Once he’d discovered it buried behind some half-finished canvases, Andre had insisted that she simply must include the portrait in her show. At first she’d been adamant in her refusal, but eventually he’d won the debate. She knew now she should have refused, regardless of Andre’s arguments.
She’d convinced herself that Dominic Chakaris would never hear about the portrait. And if he did? He would ignore it…which is what she thought had happened when she’d heard no response from him for several weeks after the opening of her exhibit.
Well, she’d been wrong, hadn’t she?
Unwilling to postpone the inevitable, Kelly picked up the phone and dialed the number he’d left.
Chapter Two
T he phone was answered on the first ring.
“Chakaris.”
Kelly blinked in surprise. The man answered his own phone? She shrugged and said, “This is Kelly MacLeod, returning your call.” She couldn’t help adding, “Can’t you afford to pay for someone to answer your phone?”
There was a pause. She could swear she heard a noise that sounded like a chuckle, which she found odd. He didn’t strike her as a man with much of a sense of humor.
“Ah, yes. Ms. MacLeod. Thank you for getting back with me so promptly. The number I left on your machine is my private number. I thought it would save time.”
“Save time for what? I take it you wish to discuss the painting?”
“Among other things,” he said smoothly. “Would you consider having dinner with me one evening this week?”
He must be kidding. “I don’t see why, Mr. Chakaris. If you’re interested in buying the painting, I’m sorry. It’s not for sale.”
“Now, that’s interesting,” he replied. “Although I have no interest in buying it, there are a few things I’d like to discuss with you. If dinner isn’t convenient, perhaps we could meet for lunch.”
She frowned. Why was he insisting on meeting with her? She was curious—very curious. Well, why not. She’d show him she wasn’t afraid of him. “When?”
As though there had never been a doubt that she would meet with him, he said smoothly, “Tomorrow, perhaps?”
She did a mental check for possible scheduling conflicts before she replied. “All right.”
“Good. I’ll send my car for you at twelve-thirty.”
“But—” she began, only to hear a dial tone.
She put the phone down and stood there, thinking she probably should have refused.
Don’t kid yourself. You’ve wanted to meet him…it’s probably one of the reasons you allowed yourself to be talked into putting the painting on display.
Now there was a bit of nonsense if she’d ever heard one. Kelly checked her watch. She was being ridiculous and had better things to do than analyze her feelings where Dominic Chakaris was concerned.
She would meet him, hear what he had to say and afterward would put him and her painting of him in the past where they belonged.
With a quick shrug, she went upstairs to her mother’s bedroom to begin sorting through the last of her mother’s possessions.
The next morning Kelly forced herself out of bed, convinced she hadn’t slept the night before. She remembered waking up and looking at the clock several times and having trouble going back to sleep.
Part of it was due to her sorting through her mother’s things. As much as she had prepared herself, she’d been unnerved by how many memories of her mother had surged back in the course of the afternoon. The slight scent of her mother’s favorite perfume lingered in the closet, causing Kelly to feel that her mother was actually there with her.
She’d come across familiar pieces of clothing and had been reminded of the shopping trips she and her mother had shared.
Kelly had found photographs taken of her from the time she was born, all carefully labeled, dated and placed in a leather-bound album.
Her parents looked so happy together, so proud of her, that she could not stop the tears that trickled down her cheeks.
Handling her mother’s things reminded Kelly of her loss. Within a four-year period she’d lost both parents. She had watched her mother grieve for her husband, never fully recovering from the loss.
Kelly had developed a hatred for the mammoth corporation that had destroyed her father’s health and eventually caused the loss of her mother. Until a few months ago, the greedy corporation and the people behind it had been faceless. Then she had discovered that Dominic Chakaris was the person behind the scenes, playing puppet master with people’s lives.
She should have known news of the portrait would eventually reach him.
While she was in the shower, Kelly thought about possible reasons he wanted to meet her. From everything she had learned about the man, she was sure he would take the opportunity to lambaste her for her audacity. He might try to intimidate her into removing the portrait from the show. She decided to launch a preemptive strike.
As soon as she was dressed, she called the gallery. When the manager answered, she said, “Andre, this is Kelly MacLeod.”
“Ah, Kelly. I’m glad you called. We’ve sold two of your paintings since I last spoke with you. We could have sold more if there weren’t so many on loan from your clients.” He told her which ones and the amount he’d received for them.
“I believe it’s time to close my show, don’t you?”
“You’ve done so well, I thought you would want to continue to display your talent in order to gain new clients.”
“That’s very sweet, Andre, but the truth is, I have a waiting list of women who want their portraits done. Some have managed to get their husbands to agree to a family portrait. If I took no other commissions I’d still be busy for the next couple of years.”
He sighed. “Then of course I’ll do as you wish. I’ve enjoyed working with you once again. I hope we can do another show for you when you’re ready.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t have been able to make it this far without your support. The commissions from my first showing after Dad died were a godsend.”
She made arrangements to have the paintings delivered to her the following week and hung up, figuratively brushing her hands for having taken that step.
Later, she heard the doorbell and realized that she’d spent the entire morning in her mother’s bedroom without paying attention to the time. She glanced down at her casual clothes and shrugged. She wasn’t out to impress the man. If he was offended, too bad.
Nick paced back and forth in front of his desk, checking his watch every few minutes. Ms. MacLeod should be arriving soon and he needed to decide how he would deal with her.
“You’re pacing like an expectant father or a nervous bridegroom,” Craig said, walking into the office. “Here are the reports you requested, by the way.” He placed a bundle of bound papers on the desk. “Maybe they’ll help to occupy your mind.”
Nick stared at Craig in disgust. “Has anyone ever told you that you have an overactive imagination? What makes you think this has anything to do with her? We have several large acquisitions hanging fire at the moment.” He nodded toward the papers. “You should know that as well as I.”
Craig folded his arms. “Uh-huh. I’ve known you for years, Nick. You treat the buying and selling done by this company as casually as if you were playing with Monopoly money. The only topic on which I’ve seen you this nervous is Kelly MacLeod.”
Nick walked behind his desk and sat down. “Right,” he said rolling his eyes. “Let’s see what we have here,” he added, pulling the papers toward him.
The chauffeur, who introduced himself as Ben Jackson, was professionally polite as he escorted her to the limousine parked in front of her home. After opening the back door, he helped her inside.
Kelly looked around the spacious interior. The back area was almost as large as some rooms she’d seen. She settled back into the luxurious leather and wondered which restaurant Mr. Chakaris had chosen for this meeting. She wouldn’t be surprised if he owned a few.
When the limo stopped some time later Kelly was surprised to see that they were in front of one of the towering office buildings in the business district. She didn’t recognize the name on the building. Perhaps it had a restaurant of which she hadn’t heard.
The driver came around and opened her door, offering his hand. Once she stepped out of the limo, he escorted her to the doorman and said, “Ms. MacLeod is here to see Mr. Chakaris.”
“Of course,” the man replied, his uniform giving him an added measure of dignity. Once inside the cavernous lobby, the doorman handed her off to a man who stood by one of the banks of elevators.
“Ms. MacLeod?” he said with a charming smile. He held out his hand, “I’m Craig Bonner. I’m employed by DCA Industries, Dominic Chakaris’s company. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been impressed with your work for some time.” She took his hand and shook it, noticing his firm grip. So Chakaris owned the building. That was the logo she’d seen outside. Why wasn’t she surprised?
Craig motioned for her to step into one of the elevators. Kelly had no reason to dislike Mr. Bonner just because he worked for Chakaris and she smiled as she thanked him.
Once the door closed, he pushed one of the buttons before he stepped back to stand beside her.
She looked around. The elevator was spacious and well lit. She wondered if there was a private club in the building. The reclusive Mr. Chakaris would probably prefer a bit of privacy when he dined out, which she would prefer as well. The last thing she needed was to find a comment in tomorrow’s gossip columns about having been seen with him.
The doors slid open and her escort ushered her into a large marble foyer. On its walls were three paintings that deserved to be in a museum. In addition, there were several marble busts displayed on Greek columns artistically placed around the area. An ornate flower arrangement in the center of a gleaming table decorated one end of the room. A receptionist sat behind a massive desk at the other end.
Quite an impressive office, she thought. No doubt built with money he’d made cheating rightful owners out of their businesses. Before she could speak she heard a quiet click in the wall opposite the elevator. She turned, and saw tall double doors opening.
“Ms. MacLeod, I’m glad you could meet with me.” The man she had spent several weeks painting walked through the doors. He wasn’t smiling. She didn’t think she’d ever seen that particular phenomenon now that she thought about it.
She would admit, if only to herself, that if this man were anyone other than the man behind the loss of her family, she would have been drawn to him.
He advanced toward her and held out his hand. “Dominic Chakaris.”
She reluctantly accepted the hand he offered. As soon as his fingers touched hers she knew she’d made a mistake. The physical contact made her aware of him in a very unsettling way.
She pulled her hand from his. The polite response was to thank him for inviting her but she could not look him in the eye and lie. Instead, she nodded and said, “Mr. Chakaris.”
Chakaris glanced around and saw his assistant. “Thanks, Craig,” he said as though surprised to find the man still there.
“I’m glad to be of service,” Craig replied. He sounded amused, as though at some private joke. Was she missing something here?
Chakaris made a slight—and she was certain mocking—bow toward her and said, “We’ll be eating in my private dining room. I thought you might be more comfortable here than in a public restaurant.”
As much as she hadn’t wanted to be seen with the man, she found the idea of having a private meal with him far from comfortable. She fought not to sound ungracious when she replied. “Whatever’s convenient for you.”
He motioned toward the open door and she stepped briskly forward, not wishing to have him touch her again.
His corner office overlooked Manhattan and she had to admit the view was spectacular. Two walls were mostly glass. Fine-grained wood covered the other two walls. The same type of wood had been used for his desk. Her artist’s eye couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship.
While she took in the size and luxury of the room, Dominic walked over to another door and motioned her to enter.
The dining area was smaller than his office but equally well furnished. A table set for two awaited them. Expensive china, crystal water goblets and sterling silverware gleamed in the light.
“I’ve ordered our meal ahead of time. I hope you’ll approve of my choice.” He pulled out one of the chairs for her and once she was seated, sat across from her. “Would you care for wine with lunch?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I prefer iced tea, if it’s available.”
“Certainly.” He must have pushed some hidden button because a tall, slender man opened a nearby door.
“Yes, sir?”
“You may serve us now, Dimitrios. We’ll have iced tea.”
The man nodded and left the room, leaving them alone once again. Kelly had been in many social situations in her life, but she couldn’t remember one where she’d felt so awkward.
Dominic picked up his water glass and held it out to her. “I’d like to make a toast. May this be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Kelly had reached for her glass—not so much to join him in his toast, but because her mouth was so dry—when he spoke. Thank goodness she hadn’t taken a sip. Otherwise, his audacity would have caused her to spray water over everything.
She lifted an eyebrow and said, “A friendship, Mr. Chakaris? I hardly think so. I’m afraid I don’t know your reason for insisting on having this meeting. I’ve instructed the gallery to remove your portrait, which was the only thing I could think of to explain it.”
He paused with the glass halfway to his mouth. “I’m hoping you can satisfy my curiosity as to why I became a subject for your artistic endeavors.” He sipped from the glass, his gaze steady.
“Consider it an aberration. I’d lost my mother and was dealing with a lot of emotional stuff. Call it therapy if you will.”
Chakaris looked startled by her explanation. Before he could comment, Dimitrios entered carrying a tray of food. After setting their plates and tea in front of each of them, he asked, “Will there be anything else, sir?”
Chakaris scanned the table quickly before saying, “I believe we have everything. Thank you.”
Except an appetite, Kelly thought ruefully. She’d had some misguided notion that she would be able to answer his questions in a calm, unemotional manner. Instead, her stomach felt tied in knots and she could feel one of her tension headaches coming on.
After a moment she picked up her fork and took careful bites of her food, which tasted like ambrosia, melting in her mouth. Before she knew it, she had finished her lunch.
She’d been relieved that he’d chosen not to continue their discussion while they ate. Once they were drinking their coffee, Chakaris said, “Shall we go into my office? I’m intrigued to learn why you chose me to—er—help you deal with your grief.” He rose and politely pulled her chair out.
Kelly walked into the office and stood in the middle of the room, cupping her elbows in her hands. Instead of walking to his desk, Dominic strode to the other side of the room where there was a grouping of leather chairs and a sofa.
He motioned to one of the chairs. “Please have a seat, Ms. MacLeod. I’d like to know why you painted that damned portrait.”
Kelly dropped her arms and with a slight lift of her chin walked over to the chair and sat down. Only then did he take the other chair.
“What if I told you my reasons are private. Would you respect that?” she asked quietly.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at her as though working out a puzzle. Finally, he replied softly. “You apparently felt no similar need to protect my privacy.”
He had a good point, she silently admitted. She wondered what to tell him. Stalling for time, Kelly said, “You should be flattered. After all, some women find you very attractive.”
He waved the remark away as though swatting a fly. “Don’t patronize me, Ms. MacLeod.”
Kelly was reminded of her response to Hal. Perhaps there was some truth in her adversary’s challenge.
Before she could decide how to respond, he said, “I’d appreciate hearing the truth.”
The truth. The truth had many facets. She wondered why she was stalling. This man’s ruthless determination to get whatever he wanted was legendary and he wanted the truth. She had no need to protect his feelings…if he had any.
Kelly squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “All right. Here’s the truth for you, Mr. Chakaris. I painted your picture in an effort to exorcise my anger at your methods of making money. My father’s death four years ago was the direct result of your ruthless business practices. My mother was never the same once he was gone. Thanks to you, I’ve lost both of them. So the portrait was an effort to deal with some of my anger and hatred of you.”
Chapter Three
N ick knew he had enemies. He’d had to fight hard to get where he was and he’d stepped on a few toes along the way, but he had never been accused of single-handedly destroying someone’s family.
There was nothing about Kelly MacLeod’s demeanor to make him think she was mentally unhinged and she obviously believed what she was saying.
The last time he’d seen her was a few weeks ago when he glanced around from a conversation to see her watching him. She’d immediately returned her attention to her friends.
If he’d known she was the artist of the infamous painting, he would have made an effort to speak to her.
Nick was a little disappointed that her interest in him was negatively based because she intrigued him.
He’d always dated tall brunettes with dark eyes. He would never have guessed that he would be attracted to a petite woman with vivid blue eyes and light blond hair. Yet he definitely was attracted to her and had been since the first moment he saw her years ago.
Kelly made no effort to speak. She appeared calm sitting on the edge of her chair so primly, her ankles crossed and hands folded, appearing as though their discussion was about the latest fund-raising event.
Nick leaned back in his chair. When he spoke, his tone was dry. “I have to say your unflattering portrayal of me was a unique way of expressing your rather violent emotions toward me.”
“Of course you would consider all of this a joke.”
“Not at all. What business did your father own?”
“The Angus MacLeod Company, started by my great-great-grandfather in the late 1800s. He converted the factory for military use during wartime. Afterward, he went back to domestic manufacturing. The factory had been in our family for years…until you decided to add it to your collection.”
At least he had something tangible to follow up on. He picked up the phone on the table by his elbow. When his assistant answered, he said, “Evelyn, please have the files on The Angus MacLeod Company sent in as soon as possible.” He hung up and looked at Kelly. “I’ll be better prepared to discuss this matter with you once I’ve seen the files. May I get you something to drink while we’re waiting?”
Kelly worried her bottom lip with her teeth. There was really no reason for her to stay. It was obvious he had no recollection of what he had done. Why wasn’t she surprised? she thought bitterly. Her throat was dry, she admitted to herself. With a brief nod, she replied, “Water, please.”
He stepped to a nearby wall and pushed a hidden button, causing the wall to move and reveal a well-stocked bar. Everything anyone could possibly want was at his fingertips.
He returned with a crystal glass filled with ice and water.
“Thank you,” she said, taking a sip.
He sat across from her once again and said, “Tell me about your father, if you will.”
“I know none of this means anything to you, but my father was an unusually gifted man. He had a keen appreciation of art and history and was an expert on sixteenth-century English writers. I could not have asked for a more nurturing, loving father.”
Dominic knew the kind of man she described. Many owners of family companies that were barely surviving were like her father. He wondered how to point out to Kelly that being an erudite man in no way qualified her father to run a successful business.
“He sounds like a fine gentleman, Kelly, but nothing you’ve said speaks to his business acumen.”
“He worked diligently at the factory his entire life. He was conscientious and did everything he could to make the business succeed.”
“Your father inherited a thriving business, is that correct?”
She stiffened. “Yes.”
“In general, I’ve found that many family-owned companies are run by a family member who has no idea how to run a business. You mentioned that your father’s interests lay elsewhere.” He paused, carefully choosing his words. “Without educating himself in the field of business, a person would have little concept of how to keep a company going. Perhaps your father was a hands-on owner. I won’t know until I’ve seen the file, but many owners in similar situations allow others to do the day-to-day supervision. A manager might suggest spending capital to modernize the business, but new technology is expensive. Perhaps your father allowed the business to continue without investing more money in it. Of course this is all speculation on my part.”
“My father was diligent about keeping informed. He wouldn’t have let the business run down. Yes, Mr. Chakaris, it is obvious that you never knew my father.” Kelly stood and walked to the wide expanse of glass that gave a bird’s-eye view of Manhattan, her arms gripped tightly against her stomach. Without turning, she said, “My father was a man of integrity. In addition, he was not a lavish spender.”
Dominic walked toward her, his hands in his pockets. “You’re welcome to believe that, of course, but it has been my experience that a home such as yours takes a great deal of money to own and maintain, not to mention the cost of your private schooling and a year abroad studying art.”
She spun around, startled to find him so close. “That’s another thing. You had no right to have me investigated. There is no way you could know about my education without prying into my life. I know exactly what my education cost, Mr. Chakaris, as well as the cost of maintaining my home. Once Dad was gone, Mom and I discovered how precarious our financial situation was. Knowing him, Dad wouldn’t have wanted us to worry about any of this, which is why he’d never discussed the business with either of us. Don’t you know that if I had known, I would never have continued my studies? I’ve had to live with that knowledge since he died. In order to care for us, he borrowed money from the bank. He took no money from the factory. He would never have put the factory into jeopardy.”
Nick clenched his jaw before he said something he might later regret. Her temper was finally showing through her icy demeanor but he refused to be baited by a grieving woman who didn’t know what she was talking about. He glanced at his watch, wondering where the hell those files were.
He was irritated with himself for having gotten into a discussion about a particular business of his before bringing himself up to date on it.
Finally, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I’m sure your father was a good man. Since I’m not interested in acquiring a business until and unless it’s obvious that it’s failing, my guess is that, despite his sterling qualities, he wasn’t able to keep his company going.”
There was a tap on the door and Nick turned away with relief. “Come in,” he said.
He was surprised to see Craig until he spotted the thick file in his hand. He lifted a questioning brow.
“Sorry it took so long to pull the file. The name’s been changed and we’ve owned it for several years.”
Nick didn’t look at Kelly. “That’s fine, Craig. Sorry to pull you away from your work.”
“No problem.” Craig left the room and Nick sat behind his desk. For reasons he didn’t quite want to admit, he half hoped to find that he had been wrong about this particular transaction. Not that it was his aim in life to destroy anyone. He owed no one an apology for rescuing failing businesses. He’d built his fortune that way and he was good at it.
He gave a mental shake and opened the file. Kelly continued to stand. With a silent sigh, Nick motioned her to one of the chairs in front of him. “Please have a seat. I need to scan this. It won’t take long, I promise.”
With obvious reluctance Kelly sat, watching him closely.
He read the summary of the shape the business was in when he took it over as well as the amount of money he’d paid for it.
Nick closed the file and looked at Kelly. She was watching him as though he were a wild animal about to pounce.
He considered himself a damned good negotiator. However, he’d never been in a situation like this one before. It was no surprise that Kelly MacLeod’s emotions were running high at the moment. He didn’t want to upset her further, but he also didn’t want to have her leave his office without knowing the facts.
“When we first heard about the MacLeod property, the place was no more than a month away from shutting its doors.”
She opened her mouth as though to object, so he handed her the Angus MacLeod company’s balance sheet for the last year before his firm took it over.
“It isn’t my intention to add to your grief by going into the details of this transaction. I accept that your father was devastated by the loss of his company. However, he would have lost it whether or not I bought it.” He glanced down at the file. “I don’t normally allow anyone other than my employees to look at files, but I’m going to make an exception this time.” He moved the file closer to her and waited while she looked over the documents inside.
He was bending over backward in order to show Ms. MacLeod that he was not responsible for her father’s losing his business.
There were documents in the file that reported the financial status of the company five years ago, along with copies of several promissory notes signed by her father at various times, using the business as collateral.
An itemized profit-and-loss statement for each of the five years before the company was taken over showed a steady and consistent loss of revenue.
As soon as she looked up from the file he said, “When I took it over, the business was worth very little. As you see, your father received more than a fair price for what was left of his business. What he chose to do with the money was his concern.
“I understand the pain of losing your parents, Ms. MacLeod, and you may have found some relief in finding someone you could blame. However, I will not apologize for my business practices. I had no control over your father’s choices, nor over his willingness to go deeper into debt when he knew he had a snowball’s chance in hell of being able to repay those loans. He made his choices and he had to live with them.”
Kelly rubbed her temple as though her head ached. “When he died,” she finally said as she continued to study the documents, “Mom and I thought we had a certain amount of financial security until I found out what had been going on.” She pointed to the documents. “He must have paid off those notes with money he received when you took over. We paid other debts with his life insurance policy.”
He said nothing more. The papers had upset her, that was obvious, but what was he supposed to do? Let her irrational assumptions continue without an attempt to point out the flaws in her thinking?
Finally, she looked at him and said, “In my own defense, I didn’t deliberately make the painting of you unflattering. I painted what I saw.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “What you saw from attending the same benefits and other social functions I attended? Without once attempting to speak to me or find out anything about me? You may have painted what you saw but only through the emotional filters of who you decided I am.”
“Perhaps you’re right. In any case, the portrait is no longer on display.” Kelly stood and moved toward the door.
Nick followed her. He hoped to lighten the mood somewhat and said, “I’ve been assured by those who know me that your portrait perfectly captured my personality. I have hopes that my ego will eventually recover from that rather lowering assessment.”
She turned and looked at him in surprise at his attempt at humor. He didn’t want her thinking of him as an ogre. He was merely a businessman who had done well by making decisions based on facts and figures, not emotions.
He reached the door first and swung it open for her. “I’m sorry that our first meeting was an adversarial one. I’d like to start over, if possible. Would you be willing to have dinner with me sometime when my business practices won’t be the topic of conversation?”
She looked him over dismissively before she replied, “I would enjoy having dinner with you Mr. Chakaris…as soon as hell freezes over.”
Chapter Four
T he next morning Kelly paused and stepped back from the canvas she was currently finishing. She was having trouble concentrating, which wasn’t surprising. She’d been rattled since she’d left Dominic Chakaris’s office.
The painting wasn’t going well. She decided to leave it alone before she did something irreversible to it. Kelly cleaned her brushes and afterward absently settled into one of the window seats.
The more she had listened to Dominic Chakaris calmly explain that his business tactics were reasonable and logical, the more upset she had become. She’d been unable to sleep much of the night for thinking about the cold-blooded way the man did business.
No wonder Hal Covington was concerned. Like her father, Hal had inherited his business. He’d done well, though, and she couldn’t understand why he was worrying about the possibility of his company being taken over. If Chakaris was being truthful, he didn’t go after successful businesses.
Despite her dislike of him, she believed him, mostly because he didn’t care enough about any of this to bother to lie.
Somebody needed to stand up to him, to show him that life was more than assets and liabilities. People were more important, something he seemed to ignore.
When she’d finally crawled out of bed this morning, she’d formed a plan of sorts. Supposing she did accept his invitation.
Could she see him again without revealing her aversion to him? What if she could help her father’s old friend by discovering whether Chakaris was considering Hal’s company as a potential acquisition?
She would have to think about that. Finding her way into the enemy’s camp could backfire. She had to decide whether the risks were worth it.
Kelly decided that if she couldn’t concentrate on her work, she would finish sorting through her mother’s belongings.
Several hours later she heard the doorbell ring. She glanced at her watch. It was after one o’clock. As far as she could recall, no one had planned to stop by today. Her curiosity drew her to the hallway overlooking the foyer and she watched as Bridget answered the door.
Kelly couldn’t see who was there but when Bridget stepped back she was holding a large floral arrangement. She closed the door and started for the stairs. Kelly met her halfway and took the flowers.
“Thank you, Bridget.”
“It’s been some time since you received flowers, hasn’t it?”
Kelly smiled. “True. And I haven’t the foggiest idea who could have sent them now.” As she turned to go back upstairs, she suddenly knew who had sent the elaborate arrangement. She carried it to her room and placed it on a table between two windows.
The large bouquet was a colorful mixture of fragrant flowers and she had to admit they brightened the room. She reached for the card and drew it out of the envelope. The note read,
The latest forecast predicts an arctic front moving through hell. I thought the ensuing freeze might give you a reason to have dinner with me Saturday.
Nick
Nick. She hadn’t realized he went by a nickname. It seemed out of character, somehow. She studied the card and realized that he must have personally chosen the bouquet to have written the message. His writing was bold, slashing across the card.
Her phone rang. Absently she picked it up.
“Hello?”
“You received my flowers,” a deep voice said in her ear.
“Are you lurking outside my home?”
“Not at all. I told the florist to have them delivered promptly. I felt certain they would have arrived by now.”
If he but knew it, he had given Kelly the opportunity she needed if she decided to follow through with her plan to help Hal. Did she have the nerve? Did she really want to be around Chakaris again?
Stalling for time, she replied, “I suppose you own the florist shop.”
There was a brief silence before he said, “As a matter of fact, I do. The shop is here in the building.”
“Is there anything in this city you don’t own, Mr. Chakaris?”
“Please call me Nick. And yes, there are a great many things in this city over which I have no control.”
“That’s reassuring,” she said dryly. “That should keep your ego somewhat in check.”
“My ego is already suffering from the shellacking you gave it yesterday. I was hoping for the opportunity to convince you I’m not really the monster you seem to think I am.”
Had he always sounded so sexy? She’d been too agitated yesterday to notice…or at least had done her best not to consider his physical attributes.
She swallowed. “Saturday?” she repeated faintly. Three days from tonight? Could she do it? She studied the calendar near her phone.
“I have business meetings back to back until then. I’ll be distracted, I’m sure, thinking about you, but I’ll force myself to sit through them.”
She rolled her eyes at the obvious line. “I’m afraid I can’t on Saturday. I already have plans.”
He didn’t respond right away and she wondered if he’d hung up when he said, “I would really like to see you again. Is it possible that we could start over from here and see what develops?”
“I’m available Sunday evening,” she said with reluctance.
“Good. I’ll be there at seven.”
She hung up thoughtfully. If this were anyone but Dominic Chakaris, she might get the idea that he was personally interested in her, but she knew that Chakaris, the corporate raider, would see her simply as a challenge. Even if he were interested in her, he would soon move on to his next conquest. He had a reputation for refusing to become seriously involved with anyone.
In any case, she was committed to spending only one evening with him—to having dinner, nothing more. If she intended to help Hal—and wasn’t that the reason she’d given herself for agreeing to see Dominic again?—she would need to be around him more.
That being the case, she’d taken the first step.
Saturday evening, William Comstock III arrived on time to take her to the benefit dance for one of her mother’s charities.
“You’re ready?” Will asked, placing his hand over his heart in surprise.
“Very funny,” she replied. “As though you’ve ever had to wait for me.”
He hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Oooh, that’s right. I must have you confused with one of my other women.” He stepped back and looked at her. “Great outfit. I’m not going to ask how you manage to keep the top up.”
She shook her head and grinned. Will had dated Anita, her college roommate, during which time he and Kelly had become best buds. Their friendship had outlasted the romantic one. Since his family insisted he attend so many of these functions, Kelly and Will had made a pact to go together and “guard each other’s back,” as Will so quaintly put it.
Kelly was glad for his undemanding companionship tonight. Had her date been anyone else she would probably have cancelled. Instead she’d bought a new dress—black sheer with a silk lining. When she first saw it she had wondered, like Will, if she’d be able to lift her arms to dance without losing the bodice. She was amazed at the masterful engineering that had gone into the dress to prevent such a thing from happening.
Will opened the door and escorted her to his late-model roadster. “Hope you don’t mind if we don’t stay long. I’m promised to someone else tonight.” Kelly laughed, as he knew she would. “How about you?” he asked once he was behind the wheel. “Has some lucky guy swept you off your feet and promised you the world?”
“Not yet. I can always hope,” she replied, chuckling. “Of course you know that’s not true. I have too much to do to encourage a relationship right now.”
“Uh-huh. That’s what you’ve been telling me since you graduated. If you don’t accept some invitations soon I’m going to drag every single male I know over here for your inspection and review and insist you go out with each one at least once.”
“You wouldn’t!” Kelly said, mortified. “What a horrible thought. Besides, you needn’t worry about me. I actually have a dinner date tomorrow night.”
Will threaded his way through heavy traffic. He glanced at her in surprise. “No kidding! Somebody I know?”
“I doubt it.”
“So who is he? C’mon, Kelly. I keep you up to date on my love life. Don’t be shy.”
“I’m not being shy. And this isn’t about a love life. It’s just a dinner date, for Pete’s sake.”
“Ah, you’re going out with Pete, are you?” He waited a couple of seconds and asked, “Pete who?”
She hit his arm. “You idiot. I don’t know why I put up with you…I really don’t.”
“I do,” he said, suddenly sounding serious. “You feel safe with me. I’ve known that for years. If I ever made a pass at you, you’d take off so fast you’d leave skid marks.”
“I’m not going to discuss this anymore,” she said with dignity. “Besides, we’re here,” she added with relief as he swung into the valet parking area in front of the hotel.
“Fine with me. We can sit here in the car all evening as far as I care. Who is he?”
“Oh, all right,” she said with irritation. “It’s Dominic Chakaris.” She smiled as one of the parking attendants opened her door. She waited for Will near the entrance and he soon joined her. He took her elbow and escorted her into the hotel.
“Oh, all right. If you’re going to make up somebody, I give up. All I’ll say is you must be ashamed of him if you have to keep him a secret.”
She grinned, suddenly in a better humor. “This time, I’m telling you the truth. It is Dominic Chakaris.”
They paused as the other invitees moved ahead of them into the ballroom. “Oh, yeah. I believe you. The man you hate, the man you painted with so much ferocity that I felt sorry for the poor canvas at times? This is the guy you’re going to see?”
She chuckled, her eyes on his face as they entered the ballroom. “What can I say,” she replied, fluttering her eyelashes at him, “the poor man was swept away by me. I wouldn’t be surprised if by the end of tomorrow night he isn’t pleading with me to have his children!”
Nick saw her as soon as she walked through the door, his head turning like a magnet to the north. The strong surge of lust at the sight of her caught him off guard. Not that he should be surprised. Wearing that dress, she was going to cause every man in the place to suffer whiplash. The dress, what little there was to it, clung to her as though it were wet, emphasizing her bare shoulders, her gentle curves and very attractive legs. She looked small as she stood beside Adonis…the top of her head barely came to her partner’s shoulder. And who the hell was he? In addition to his good looks, he had the build of an athlete, with broad shoulders and slim hips. His blond hair fell boyishly across his forehead and he looked at home in a tuxedo.
Nick fought to get control of his unruly body. He’d never had such an embarrassingly public reaction to a woman in his life and it would have to be triggered by Kelly MacLeod, of all people.
He’d asked her out again despite her unflinching refusal because he hoped to overcome her hostility toward him by allowing her to get to know him better…or at least become neutral toward him. Yes, he’d found her to be attractive, and yes, he’d entertained the idea of taking her to bed eventually, but his strong reaction just now rattled him.
He had a cavemanlike urge to rush to her, throw her over his shoulder, beat his chest so that everyone in the room knew that she belonged to him, and take her home with him…where he would keep her in his bed for as long as his stamina held.
Nick closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead; the beginning of a headache was making itself known. As soon as he opened them, he immediately searched until he found her again. He kept his eyes trained on the couple as they paused to greet first one group, then another.
They looked so comfortable together. The casual intimacy between them jarred him.
Damn.
Well, what did you think, Chakaris? That you’re the first man to notice her? Males had probably been following her around since preschool.
“I say, Chakaris, have you heard a word I’ve said?” One of the stuffed shirts he’d been listening to grumbled. Nick had a hell of a time being polite in these situations. Everyone was so taken with his own self-importance, it was a wonder there was enough space in the ballroom for all the egos on display.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Nick murmured to the group of men, “I just saw someone I need to speak with.” Without waiting for a reply, Nick moved purposefully through the crowd to reach Kelly.
“Now this is getting interesting,” Will said to Kelly as they turned toward the buffet table.
“What is?”
He slipped his arm around her waist and leaned down, nuzzling her ear and saying, “The man whose babies you’re going to have is headed straight for us…and the look on his face suggests pistols at dawn.”
Kelly tried to pull away from him, but Will’s grip was too firm. She turned her head just as Nick appeared beside her.
“Good evening, Kelly,” Nick said in a polite voice. “I’d like to meet your escort, if I may.”
Kelly saw a nerve twitching in his jaw. Good grief. What was that about? “Will,” she said coolly, “I’d like you to meet Dominic Chakaris.” She looked at Nick. “This is William Comstock III.”
More unwelcome news, Nick thought wryly. He happened to know that name. Even if every member of the family was a spendthrift, there was enough money in the Comstock coffers to last several lifetimes.
He nodded without offering his hand and returned his gaze to Kelly. “I find the gown you’re almost wearing quite eye-catching.”
He saw Kelly stiffen but before she could reply, her escort said, “That’s what I’ve been telling her. I offered her some Scotch tape to help with the strapless top, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”
Kelly tried not to laugh but failed. Will was incorrigible. “Thank you,” she said to Nick. “The dress is sturdier than it looks,” she added smoothly.
Nick nodded. “I won’t keep you from the buffet.” He nodded to Will once again, then to her, and got the hell away from her before he made a complete ass of himself.
What had he been thinking, making such a personal remark to her? Despite her escort being taller than Nick by a good three inches, Nick had been ready to take a swing at Comstock for having his arm around her waist.
Had he lost his frigging mind?
Nick looked around the room. Most of the faces were familiar to him because the same people invariably attended these things. What the hell. He was one of them now, wasn’t he? Why should he sneer when he’d deliberately and systematically carved a niche for himself in their world?
It was time for another drink.
After dinner an orchestra began to play and several couples moved onto the dance floor and started dancing to the rhythm of the music.
Will and Kelly shared a table with several acquaintances who were used to seeing them together. Several lively discussions took place throughout dinner and the group was still talking when the music started.
Kelly leaned toward Will and murmured, “Are you ready to go?”
“Are you kidding?” he replied with a grin. “I wouldn’t miss any of this for the world.”
“Miss any of what?”
“The way Chakaris keeps his eye on you no matter where you are. With every move we’ve made, he’s made a corresponding move in order to keep you in his line of sight.”
Kelly refused to look around but she could feel her cheeks burning. “I’m glad you’re having so much fun imagining things. The man barely knows me.”
“That may be true, but not from lack of trying, I bet. So what did you do? Break down and finally agree to go out with him?”
A sudden memory of the bouquet of flowers he’d sent flashed into her mind and she continued to blush.
“Oh, ho,” Will hooted softly. “That’s what this is about. You’re doing everything just right, you know. Make him chase you. Make him work for your attention.”
“How much have you had to drink tonight?” she demanded in a low voice, so that the others couldn’t hear. “You’ve taken one tiny fact and built a whole fantasy world from it!”
Will glanced over her shoulder and whispered, “We’ll see, won’t we?” In a normal tone, he said, “Enjoying the party, Chakaris?”
Kelly’s head whipped around. Nick stood a couple of feet away and she had the horrifying thought that he might have heard their discussion. She hoped they had been speaking quietly enough that no one had caught Will’s ridiculous comments.
“It’s all right,” Nick responded, his eyes on Kelly. “Would you care to dance?”
“Oh, I, uh, that is—”
“She’d be pleased to dance with you, wouldn’t you, Kelly, love?” Will said with a perfectly straight face. It was all she could do not to punch him in the shoulder.
As gracefully as possible, Kelly rose and walked toward the dance floor. When she turned, Nick was immediately behind her. He took her in his arms and they moved into a gliding step, as though they had danced together for years.
Nobody had ever mentioned in her hearing that this man could dance like a professional. He held her at a proper distance, his hand casually resting at the small of her back. With a relaxed and casual skill, Nick guided her around the ballroom. She found him easy to follow and began to relax in his arms.
He was the perfect height for her to dance with. She was wearing three-inch heels, and her eyes were level with his chin. Nick said nothing as the music worked its magic through her. Kelly settled into the rhythm of the song and flowed with him.
At some point the music segued into a slow, bluesy kind of number. It seemed natural for him to pull her closer and wrap his arms around her. Kelly slid her arms around his neck and placed her head on his shoulder.
As her body was pressed against him, Kelly realized he was fully aroused. He wanted her—that was obvious. Or maybe his reaction was strictly physical. Perhaps this happened with every woman with whom he danced. She drew back slightly so that she was not in such intimate contact.
Moving in Nick’s arms in time to the music seemed to be the most natural thing in the world. Kelly felt drugged…seduced by the music and the man. She tried to work up her usual antagonism against him but for now it had disappeared.
When the music ended, Kelly needed a moment to come back to the here-and-now. Nick seemed to have the same problem as he reluctantly released her.
Kelly made the mistake of looking at him and saw the heated expression in his eyes. She could feel herself flush and knew her fair skin betrayed her agitation.
He lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Thank you for dancing with me,” he said quietly.
She couldn’t seem to look away from him. In an uneven tone she replied, “You’re a wonderful dancer.” Kelly waited for a look of satisfaction to appear on his face at her words. Instead, he gave her hand a soft squeeze and led her back to her table.
Will was also returning to the table and saw them. “I hate to call this short, but I need—”
“Of course,” she rushed in to say. “It’s getting late and I should get home as well.”
With a brief nod to Nick, Will encircled her shoulders and crossed the room, heading for the door.
Nick watched them go, feeling as though something had been ripped out of his heart when she disappeared from his view. Now there was a joke. There were many people who would swear he had no heart.
He’d always agreed with them.
Until now.
Chapter Five
W ill said nothing until they were in his car and on the way to her home. Kelly appreciated his silence. Her head was swimming with so many conflicting thoughts she could find nothing coherent to say.
What had happened back there? Had she actually forgotten who Chakaris was and the damage he had done to her…as well as others?
As if her thoughts weren’t confusing enough, her emotions clamored for attention. She relived how she’d felt with his arms around her and the hint of aftershave mixed with the distinctive—and indescribable—scent of a clean, healthy male. How could she have become so caught up in her senses?
When they reached her home, Will escorted her to the door and waited while she unlocked it. When she turned to say goodbye, Will said, “All kidding aside, Kelly. I want you to be careful where Chakaris is concerned. I thought you two were going to burn the place down with the heat you were generating on the dance floor. It’s obvious that Chakaris has you in his sights.” He lifted her chin with his finger. “Don’t let his charm and sex appeal lull you into forgetting that the man’s dangerous. We both know that. I know none of this is my business, but I can’t help worrying about you. We’ve been friends for a long while and I’d hate like hell to see you get hurt.
“I know that you’re an adult and capable of making rational, mature decisions. You need to keep in mind that he’s as ruthless as your portrait reveals him to be.”
She leaned her head against his chest. “Thanks for caring, Will. I value our friendship and your wise counsel. You needn’t worry, though. I’m fully aware of who and what Dominic Chakaris is. I can never forget that. I promise I’ll be all right.” She pulled away from him and forced herself to smile. “Now go see your latest flame before she gets tired of waiting for you.”
Once inside, Kelly closed the door behind her and leaned against it, wondering if she could force her trembling knees to carry her up the staircase. She had to get a grip on her emotions. She was being ridiculous. She’d been around other attractive men before, men who had made their desire for her known in various ways. To have such a strong reaction to this particular male made no sense at all.
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