Deception
Deception
Donna Hill
Is love worth the risk…An unhappy marriage taught Terri Powers never to trust again. Instead, she put all her energy into developing her inner strength and independence–creating the successful New York advertising agency she'd always dreamed of. Then she meets handsome, strong-willed businessman Clinton Steele. Try as she might, Terri can't fight the sensual attraction between them–or the desperate hunger that fires her deepest passions……when everything is at stake?Neither Terri nor Clinton can ever imagine just how much is at risk. But when a stranger appears from Terri's forgotten past who calls himself a friend–his deception could destroy everything Terri has fought so hard to build. Now two wary hearts have to persevere, as long-buried secrets put Terri and Clinton's love to the most perilous test of all…
Deception
Deception
Donna Hill
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This novel is dedicated in loving memory of my
grandmothers: Clotilda Braithwaite and Mary Hill.
You both are always with me.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
Prologue
Oh what a tangled web we weave,
when first we practice to deceive.
—Sir Walter Scott, Marmion
(1808) stanza 17
“Just stay calm. Getting all worked up isn’t going to solve anything,” Terri muttered to her reflection as she partially wrapped her shoulder-length dreadlocks atop her head. Cool brown eyes stared back at her, revealing none of the turmoil that had precipitated her three-month leave of absence from her self-named corporation.
To look at thirty-year-old Terri Powers, no one would imagine what the past two years had done to her. Her New York–based public relations and advertising company had skyrocketed since its inception five years ago. With a minimal staff she had almost carried the company single-handedly. Because of that, she would always blame herself for the miscarriage of her baby. That trauma was compounded by the disintegration of her four-year marriage to photographer Alan Martin.
She took a breath and slipped long silver earrings into her lobes. The reality was, her marriage to the flamboyant Alan Martin was over long before the divorce. She’d just been unwilling to see it. She and Alan were a disaster waiting to happen. Even now she questioned her attraction to him. She’d been young, eager for love and eager to have someone love her back. She had been captivated by his charm, his vision and exuberance. His looks and his blatant sexuality only added to the total facade. So much so that she overlooked and made excuses for his flaws—which, she finally had to admit, were too numerous to mention. Her collapsed marriage she’d begun to deal with. The loss of her baby was something else entirely. A topic which she did not discuss with anyone. Losing her baby had resurrected too many painful memories, and her hopes for a family of her own had died with her child. Although her losses were more than a year behind her, the aftereffects had finally taken their toll and drained her spirit over the months. Pretending that everything was wonderful and right with the world took all that she had left, she thought sardonically.
It was to that end that she’d hired her vice president, Mark Andrews, at a time when her world seemed to be slipping beneath her feet. His résumé was outstanding. He was charming, had a razor-sharp mind, was exceedingly good-looking and had brilliant ideas for company growth. The fact that he vaguely struck some familiar chord within her only endeared him all the more to her.
Over time, she’d given Mark more and more responsibility as the events of her life and the pressures of the job slowly overwhelmed her. Terri finally realized that for her own good and the good of the company, she needed to take a break. Now it was time to go back and reclaim the reins.
Terri frowned as she lightly coated her bow-shaped lips with a soft orange lipstick. Mark had crossed the line and deliberately ignored her instructions. If it hadn’t been for her director of promotions, Stacy Williams, informing her of Mark’s activities, the whole deal would have gone down without her knowledge or consent.
As things stood now, her company was in the midst of negotiations with a man that she wouldn’t give the time of day. Clinton Steele. Everything that she’d ever read about the man set her teeth on edge. He was in the business of buying small African-American companies on the verge of collapse and turning them around for his own profit. From everything that she’d read, he paid the owners nothing near what the companies were worth. He called himself a businessman. Humph! She considered him nothing more than a predator—one whom she would have nothing to do with. To think that he wanted her company to run an ad campaign for him had her head spinning.
Terri strutted down the short foyer and slipped into her heels. Wouldn’t they be surprised to see her returning to work three weeks earlier than scheduled. She smiled. If Mark Andrews and Clinton Steele thought that they would be dealing with the Terri who was haunted by her past, they were wrong. This was Terri Powers—new and improved, rested and rejuvenated. And someone had a lot of answering to do.
Chapter 1
“Good afternoon, gentlemen.”
Sultry was the only word that stroked all of Clint’s senses when the distinctly feminine voice, coated with just a hint of a Caribbean accent, pervaded the low rumble of male conversation.
“Terri.” Her vice president, Mark Andrews, looked up and rose in greeting, as did his client Clinton Steele. “We were just going over Mr. Steele’s proposal,” Mark added, slipping back into his discarded charcoal-gray suit jacket, in an effort to camouflage his surprise at her unannounced return.
Terri stood in the doorway, taking the moment to assess the man who towered head and shoulders above the six-foot-tall Mark, and was in sharp contrast to Mark’s light cocoa complexion.
Clinton Steele’s reputation preceded him, and from all appearances he confirmed Terri’s image—from the expensive tailor-made suit to the formidable persona. But maybe it was those eyes. They seemed to have a way of mesmerizing you, she thought, feeling herself pulled into the bottomless inky pools that seemed to dance with dangerous lights. But then a flicker of something deeper flashed through those coal-black orbs. An involuntary shudder ran up her spine. Then just as quickly the look was gone and replaced with what Terri believed to be condescension.
She’d seen that look before. Most men were either intimidated or mystified by her ethnic appearance, as though she either withheld or could unlock some great ancestral secret. Her shoulders straightened as she walked into the room.
Clint was immediately taken aback by the quiet power Terri exuded. Her shoulder-length, glistening ebony dreadlocks were not what he perceived to be the coiffure of the cosmopolitan woman. Rather hers was the image of a woman awakened to their nubian ancestry and determined to flaunt it in the most exotic of displays. Her obvious sense of cultural pride intrigued, yet put him off, his own sense of roots having been buried beneath years of equal-opportunity rhetoric, stirring only periodically into the light.
The instant observation, combined with her cool appraisal of him, rubbed him the wrong way and nudged him off balance. His thick lashes lowered to shield his eyes, and his jaw involuntarily tightened.
Mark moved from around the table and stood between Terri and Clint, breaking through the tension-filled silence.
“Terri Powers, this is Clinton Steele, CEO of Hightower Enterprises.”
Clint stretched out his large hand and enveloped Terri’s petite one.
“Mr. Steele,” Terri responded with a slight incline of her head, observing his perfectly clipped nails.
For one crazy moment Clint wanted to say, “Your Majesty,” and he knew that if he opened his mouth, he’d say something equally ridiculous.
As a result he held her hand a moment longer than necessary, and Terri felt the tingling warmth spread through her fingers and glide up her arm. The sensation nearly caused her to snatch her hand away, but her inherent good manners interceded. Slowly she removed her hand, letting it fall casually to her side.
Terri raised her eyes to meet Clint’s, and he quickly discovered that they were a fascinating shade of brown that seemed to darken or brighten with the play of light from the window.
“I’ll leave the two of you to get acquainted,” Mark interjected into the torrid air. “I’ll be back shortly, and we can go over the details.” He quickly exited the office, leaving Terri and Clint to face each other.
“I understand that we have business to discuss,” Terri said, her low melodic voice again caressing him.
He watched her graceful movements as she moved to a leather chair at the head of the long oak conference table. Her sheath of golden linen barely shadowed the curves beneath, Clint realized with a twinge in his loins. He took a seat to Terri’s right.
“Mark has informed me that you’re interested in using our advertising services to promote your…new cable stations, Mr. Steele.” She folded her hands in front of her.
Did he detect a note of sarcasm in her voice or was it just his imagination? “That’s right.” He rubbed a hand across his bearded chin. “Your agency comes highly recommended from everyone here in New York. And from all that Mark has told me so far, I believe Powers Incorporated will do an excellent job.”
Clint leaned back in his seat and boldly surveyed her sculpted mahogany features, letting his eyes drift down her long neck to the tempting V in the front of her dress.
Terri felt a hot flush spread throughout her body from the intensity of Clint’s appraisal. But she would not let his daring looks distract her.
“I’m sure that Mark also told you that I’ve been out—” she swallowed back the memories “—away for the past three months?” She raised a naturally arched eyebrow in question.
Yes, and what happened to cause that haunted look in your eyes? “He mentioned it.”
Why did his voice seem to pump through her like an overactive pulse? “I’m sure what he didn’t tell you, Mr. Steele, is that I have very firm beliefs about who I do business with.”
The hairs on the back of Clint’s neck began to tingle. “Don’t we all?”
“In other words, Mr. Steele, I would appreciate it if you took your business elsewhere.”
Clint’s eyes creased into two dark slits. He leaned dangerously forward and the scent of his cologne raced to Terri’s brain, quickening her heartbeat.
His voice lowered to a deep rumble. “Let me get this straight. I’ve been working my butt off in negotiations with your partner—” he pointed an accusing finger at Terri “—and now you’re gonna tell me you don’t want my business?”
Pure unadulterated anger flared in his black eyes and hardened the velvet voice. “What in the hell is going on around here? Is this some kind of game?”
“Had I been here, Mr. Steele,” Terri answered calmly, not intimidated by the vehemence in his voice, “these talks would not have gone beyond the first phone call. Mr. Andrews is well aware of my policies. I’m sure that his…oversight was not intentional. However, my decision stands.”
Terri rose regally from her seat, and Clint had the overwhelming sensation of being dismissed like a common errand boy by this very self-centered, arrogant—
“I’m sorry,” Terri said gently, the soft sincerity of those two simple words mysteriously calming his fury. “I’m sure that this inexcusable situation has cost you a great deal of time and energy. I only wish that I could offer more than an apology.”
Why did even her refusal sound so pleasant to his ear? “Have you at least looked over the proposal?” Clint found himself inexplicably yearning for her approval. The revelation pissed him off, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I’m certain that it will be a great campaign.”
“I have looked it over. However, there’s—”
“Is it money? You don’t think it’s adequate?” Now she was annoyed. Why did they all think that money was the answer to everything? What about integrity?
“This has nothing to do with money,” Terri answered, forcing a steady calm into her voice. “It wouldn’t matter if your offer were ten times the amount. It’s you, Mr. Steele, that I have the problem with. You and your business practices. I cannot in good conscience allow this company to be associated with Hightower Enterprises.”
Clint felt as if all the wind had been kicked out of him. All of his work, his sacrifices, his dreams and accomplishments, came to a grinding halt with just those few callous words. Did she have any idea what he’d been through…did she…? Slowly he shook his head. Of course she didn’t. No one did. That was the way he’d wanted things. Now, for the first time, he was paying for that choice.
Clint rose from his seat, looking at her with a mixture of regret—that she’d fallen prey to the things that had been said about him—and disappointment. He’d begun to look forward to working with this tempting woman against all of his reservations.
Terri held her breath as Clint’s powerful body rose and spread before her. His dark blue suit fit the massive shoulders and long, muscular legs to exquisite perfection. She dared to steal a glance at the short wavy black hair that capped his proud head. For one dizzying moment she wondered what it would feel like to run her hands across it.
Had this been any other time…other circumstances…maybe… But she still had wounds to heal, emotions to mend, and unfortunately the darkly handsome Clinton Steele represented everything that she had grown to resent.
Terri extended her hand and the warmth of his grip shot through her again. Steadily her eyes held his.
“Perhaps my director of promotions, Stacy Williams, can give you some referrals, Mr. Steele. I could—”
“Believe me, you’ve done enough already.” He shook his head, looked at her from beneath silken lashes, a sheepish grin tipping his lips. “I mean, I’m sure that I can find another agency.”
Terri nodded her head and made a move to turn away. Clint’s intentionally intimate tone stopped her.
“Regardless of what you may think of me, Ms. Powers, I still feel that you’re the…that your agency is the best one for the job. If we can’t be business associates, at least let’s be friends. You can call me Clint.”
The radiance of his smile washed over her like morning sunshine. Her heart thumped.
“Thank you for the compliment. However, in reference to your last statement, I must apologize again. Our association ends here, Mr. Steele. Good day.”
She turned and walked from the office, leaving a fuming Clint and the heady scent of her kush body oil lingering behind.
Stepping out into the corridor, she forced her breathing to slow down to normal. What had happened to her in there? Taking a deep breath, she continued down the hallway, just as Mark left his office, to the conference room. Terri stopped short.
A feeling of disaster spread through Mark. “How did it go? I think this is one great deal, Terri,” he said a bit too enthusiastically.
Terri glared at him. “We’ll talk later. Right now I think you’d better soothe Mr. Steele’s ruffled feathers. There’s no deal, Mark. Understood? When you’re through, I’ll see you in my office.”
She turned on her heel, leaving Mark to throw daggers at her back. She’d screwed him. Dammit!
Quickly Mark made his way down the hallway and rushed into the room just as Clint was putting the last of his notes in his briefcase.
“Clint,” Mark began apologetically, spreading his hands in a plea. “I had no idea that she was going to react this way. I can assure you that everything was set,” he lied. Actually, he had no idea that she would return to work three weeks early. He’d planned to have this deal signed and sealed before she returned.
Clint threw him a glowering look over his shoulder.
“I just need some time to talk with her,” Mark added. “I’m sure I can get her to—”
Clint turned to Mark. “I don’t beg for anything, Andrews. Boss lady has her reasons—fine. The hell with her. You should have known better than to waste my time.”
“Listen, Clint,” Mark implored, grasping at straws, “Terri’s just being difficult. She’s probably on a hate-all-men campaign. She’s recently divorced, and she lost her baby. Today’s her first day…”
Mark’s voice droned on as Clint absorbed the implications of what was being said. My God, what she’d been through was enough to floor anyone. Yet she’d stood there resolute and determined, only once letting emotion seep through that picture-perfect demeanor. His defenses weakened. How could you not admire a woman like that? He felt that he understood her. He knew all too well about pain and loss. That part of him wanted to soothe away the hurt that still lingered behind those mysterious brown eyes.
The snap of Clint’s voice cut off Mark’s litany.
“Try to see if you can get Ms. Powers to change her mind, and keep me posted.”
Mark hid his surprise behind a wall of conversation. “I won’t disappoint you, Clint. This deal is important to me, too.” You just don’t know how much.
Mark’s calculating mind went into overdrive. He’d have to pull this off and soon, or… No. He refused to think about the possibilities.
“Will you be attending the reception tonight at Tavern on the Green for the producers?” Mark asked.
Clint picked up his briefcase. “I hadn’t planned to. Why?”
“Well, I’ll talk to Terri again. I’ll be escorting her tonight. Maybe she’ll be in a more receptive frame of mind,” he concluded, giving Clint a sly grin.
Clint pursed his lips, considering what Mark had said. He generally shied away from formal affairs, believing them to be frivolous. But if it gave him the chance to see Terri again, he’d make an exception.
“I never confirmed my invitation,” Clint said slowly, “but I don’t think it should be a problem.”
“Great. So I’ll see you tonight.”
Clint reluctantly shook Mark’s hand and strode purposefully from the conference room.
There was one thing that bugged Clint more than anything else—a brownnose. And Mark Andrews fit the bill, he thought, as he waited for the elevator. But there was something else about Mark that disturbed him. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. At least not yet. But he would. Maybe he’d just let Steve check him out.
Terri plopped down onto the overstuffed, cream-colored couch that stood against the far wall of her office. Waves of apprehension swept through her. She wasn’t sure if what she was feeling was the stress of first-day jitters or the eruption of buried feelings that Clinton Steele had inadvertently dug up.
Adrenaline pumped through her limbs, forcing her body into action. She sprang up from her seat and paced the floor, crossing and recrossing the earth-toned-print area rug covering the parquet floor. Absently she stroked the polished wooden artwork and the array of greenery that adorned strategic locations throughout the tropiclike office. Clinton Steel disturbed her. There was no other word for it. Without effort, he’d made her think and feel things that she’d promised herself she’d never fall prey to again. Her husband, Alan, had been enough.
Terri shut her eyes and wrapped her slender arms around her waist as if to ward off some unseen attacker, momentarily reliving the months of agony. The knocking on her office door jarred her back to the present.
She spun toward the door, blinking back the visions to focus on Mark standing in the doorway.
She cleared her throat. “Mark. Come in.” She took a seat behind her desk.
“I think you’re making a big mistake here, Terri,” Mark began as he crossed the room and sat down, handing her a stack of documents to be signed.
She gave them a cursory glance and turned her attention back to Mark. “You know perfectly well how I feel about Hightower Enterprises.”
“Your opinion is archaic!” he snapped. “You left me in charge, and I’ve been doing a damn good job of running things around here. At least give me the courtesy of believing that I know what I’m doing. Do you honestly think that you can get anywhere in this world being a Goody Two-shoes? Be for real, Terri.”
Slowly she rose from her seat, her anger shielded behind her veil of serenity.
“You seem to have forgotten that this company is where it is today because we have values—whether you believe them to be legitimate or not.” Her eyes locked onto him.
Mark heaved a sigh and ran a finger around his shirt collar. Alienating her was not the answer. “Listen,” he said, forcing calm into his voice, “at least think about it. Three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at. Maybe this one time we could make an exception.”
“I doubt it. But I will give the proposal the benefit of another look.”
Mark’s hopes lifted. “That’s all I ask.” He headed for the door, then paused. “Do you still want me to pick you up this evening?”
“What? Oh, I’d almost forgotten. Yes, thanks. Is eight o’clock good?”
“I’ll be there,” he said, opening the door.
Watching his hasty departure, Terri realized that something was very wrong.
The swish of Terri’s black satin-and-chiffon gown blended delicately with the soft music and laughter that wafted from the ballroom.
Mark, clad in an elegant-fitting tuxedo, dutifully took Terri’s elbow and escorted her down the carpeted corridor of Tavern on the Green. Stopping briefly to check Terri’s stole, there were many who gave them a second look as the two made their way down the hall.
Bowing his close-cropped curly head, Mark whispered in Terri’s diamond-studded ear, “Are you ready for your grand entrance?”
“No way,” she whispered back as they neared the open ballroom. “And don’t you dare leave me, Mark Andrews,” she threatened. “You know how self-conscious I get in crowds. You’re going to take your share of wet kisses and damp handshakes like a man,” she teased.
“Thanks, I can’t wait,” he answered drolly, rubbing his index finger across his mustache.
At the entrance Terri was awestruck and took a moment to absorb the magnificence of the glittering room. Crystal chandeliers, lit by hundreds of candles, gave the room a dramatic, effervescent shimmer. The round dinner tables were covered with gold linen tablecloths, and crystal goblets stood as the centerpieces. The enormous buffet table was laden with every delicacy imaginable, the aromas taunting the senses.
The main ballroom opened out onto two huge rooms that led to enclosed balconies, giving a sweeping view of New York City. Complementing it all was the array of designer gowns and tuxedos that moved with the wearers like a second skin.
Mark felt Terri momentarily stiffen as the patrons turned to look at them as they stood in the archway. He gave the hand that held his arm an encouraging pat.
“Are you ready?”
Terri gave a tiny nod. Taking deep breaths and putting on their best smiles, they made their entrance.
Within moments Terri was separated from Mark and swept up in a flurry of greetings. Between hugs, handshakes and rapid-fire conversation, Terri tried to peer over the sea of heads to locate Mark.
Finally she spotted him on the far side of the crowded ballroom, apparently in deep conversation with a striking-looking woman.
With her hopes of imminent rescue dashed, she continued to make conversation and field questions about her next endeavor.
“So, what’s next, Ms. Powers?” asked Gordon Burke of Columbia Studios.
“This current project with the McPhearson Group and the networks will take up a great deal of time and energy,” Terri confessed. “But I do have some proposals that have been submitted for our consideration.”
“Would you care to elaborate?” asked a reporter from the Times.
“I don’t think that would be fair to my prospective clients,” she said, flashing an indulgent smile. She knew when she was being put on the spot, and her standard response was always a sure out.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Mark was finally standing alone. Seeing a way out from the probing questions, she made her excuses.
“If you all will excuse me—” she lifted her chin in the direction of Mark “—I see my partner over there.” She made her getaway, breathing a sigh of relief.
Shaking a few hands and giving smiles of acknowledgment along the way, she eventually made it across the packed room, only to be greeted by a look of pure enjoyment from Mark.
“You think this is all very funny, don’t you?” Terri asked, twisting her full lips.
Mark smiled broadly. “Why, of course. Where else could a single man have the opportunity to be entertained by so many fabulous single women?”
“You are behaving yourself, aren’t you, Mark Andrews?” she warned with a sparkle in her nut-brown eyes.
“That all depends on what you mean by behaving.” He grinned and took a sip from his wineglass and wondered where Clint was.
Terri tapped Mark playfully on the arm while walking around him to the buffet table.
On the far side of the room, Clint made his entrance, accompanied by his vice president, Melissa Taylor. His six-foot-plus height cut an exquisite figure, bedecked in a black Armani tuxedo.
His arrival instantly caught Terri’s attention, and an inexplicable heat rushed through her body. Her eyes were drawn to him like a magnet, totally oblivious to the shimmering female form that stood at his side. Terri quickly looked away. When she furtively looked back in his direction, she was shocked, yet thrilled, to find that his eyes were locked on her, openly assessing her, even as his stunning companion clung possessively to his arm.
He gave an almost unnoticeable nod of acknowledgment in her direction.
Flustered by the intensity of his stare, she nodded back and silently prayed that she wouldn’t humiliate herself by dropping her food all over the thick carpet.
Holding on tightly to her plate, and with as much grace as she could summon, she walked across the room to her table, not daring to look back. Yet somehow she felt those warm eyes burning through her exposed back.
Clint had zeroed in on Terri almost immediately, and he couldn’t help but admire the way the black gown seemed to float over her slender body. Or how her deep brown skin glowed radiantly, tantalizing the viewer with teasing peeks of bare flesh as the dress flowed with her movements.
He had an almost uncontrollable desire to run his fingers through the locks of ebony hair that she’d wrapped magnificently on top of her head. Unconsciously he squeezed his companion’s arm to stifle the urge to touch her. There was no way that he could deny the instantaneous attraction he felt toward Terri. The powerful sensation unnerved him. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known. He’d always been attracted to women like his wife, Desiree. Women who were needy, women who… Desiree was dead, he reminded himself. And it was his fault.
“Is something wrong?” Melissa asked, sensing the change in Clint’s mood.
“No. Nothing’s wrong,” he answered offhandedly, as they moved into the center of the room.
Melissa cut her eyes across the room to where Clint’s gaze rested, then back to him in time to catch the look of longing in his eyes. “Why don’t we find a table and get something to eat? I’m starved,” Melissa said, a bit put off.
“You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you later. There are a few old friends that I want to speak with first.”
He gently eased her arm from his and crossed the floor, quickly engaging himself in a group discussion before she had a chance to protest.
For several moments Melissa stood alone, disappointed. Her hope of spending an elegant evening with Clint dissolved. But it was rare that she allowed her true feelings to show. And right now she needed something to soothe her injured ego. Putting on a practiced smile, she straightened her bare shoulders and began to do what was second nature—making men’s heads turn.
Terri made a valiant effort to focus on the food in front of her while keeping up with the conversations of the movie executives that flowed abundantly. But her mind kept wandering back to Clint. What was he doing here? She dared not ask her dining companions, knowing that her true interests would be obvious. Perhaps she would have a chance to find out before—
“Would you care to dance?”
The rich rumble of the voice seemed to shimmer down her spine and arrest her heart. Instinctively she knew it was him and was almost afraid to look up. But the large warm hand gently held her shoulder, and a surge of heat swam to her head, clouding her judgment.
She turned to look up at him and the most devastating smile assaulted her, causing her breath to catch in her throat.
Terri felt hypnotized by the intensity of his dark, heated gaze. She didn’t know whether or not she had even answered him before she was gently eased onto the dance floor. In a matter of seconds her body was pressed next to his as he artfully moved with the slow, pulsing music of the band.
The scent of his cologne enveloped her senses, and she felt an overwhelming urge to snuggle closer to the hard lines of his broad frame. Their bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, like pieces of a puzzle, each dip and curve matching the other, she mused. How long had it been since she’d been held in a man’s arms?
Why did she have to feel so good? Clint wondered, his mind running in circles as he held her slender waist in one hand. He wanted to pull her fully against him, but dared not. He was sure that his untimely arousal would be evident.
The music drew to a conclusion, but he continued to hold her, searching for something to say, not yet ready to let her go.
She looked inquisitively up at him, a tentative smile lighting her face.
Finally he found his voice. “Can I get you something from the bar?”
“A glass of tonic water with lime would be perfect.”
The melodic cadence of her voice floated to his ears. It almost didn’t matter what she said as long as she would continue talking.
He placed his hand on the small of her back and ushered her toward the bar. “Two tonic waters with lime,” he instructed the bartender, his eyes never leaving Terri’s face.
Clint handed her the glass. “So we meet again,” he stated, his eyes boring into hers.
“I wasn’t aware that you would be attending.”
“It was a last-minute decision.” He took a sip of his drink, and his voice dipped intimately. “You look fabulous.”
Terri lowered her eyes at the unabashed compliment.
“I hope there won’t be any acceptance speeches tonight,” he added, rescuing her from her apparent uneasiness.
“No,” she breathed, thankful for the change in topic, “not tonight. This is more of a who’s-who gathering than anything else, Mr. Steele.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “My friends call me Clint. I wish you would.”
“You seem to have a lot of those,” she commented.
He grinned slyly, his eyebrow lifting. “I didn’t think you noticed.”
A hot flush of embarrassment seared her cheeks.
“Don’t be uncomfortable,” he said smoothly, as though reading her mind. “I’ve been watching you, too.” His eyes trailed over her curvaceous form, and she felt her heart begin to race.
“So where is your escort—boyfriend…husband?” he probed in the hope that she would reveal or confirm what Mark had said.
Terri smiled, melting Clint’s heart. “Sorry, none of the above. I came with Mark, who seems to have vanished. What about you? I thought I saw you with someone earlier.”
He knew good and well that she saw him, but he was more than happy to play along. At least there were no stray boyfriends or husbands to contend with. “That was my business associate, Melissa Taylor, who seems to have made quite an impression on Mark.”
Terri followed Clint’s gaze across the room to see Mark and Melissa laughing intimately.
“Mark does have a way with women,” she stated, a wry smile tilting her lips.
“Let’s dance,” Clint suggested in a low, urgent voice, taking her hand before she could deny him.
“I catch a faint accent in your voice,” Clint whispered in her ear as they moved easily across the dance floor. “It’s absolutely delicious.”
Terri’s pulse fluttered. “Barbados,” she answered softly.
“Hmm,” he hummed into her hair. “Don’t ever lose it.”
The hours seemed to float away as Terri and Clint became enamored of each other’s company. They talked of the places that they had traveled, the current economy and its effects on business. But whenever Terri directed questions to Clint about his line of work, he was subtly evasive.
“Let’s not talk about work.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Not tonight. I’d rather hear about you.”
“There’s really not that much to tell,” she breathed as they walked side by side out to the balcony. “I came to the States when I was eight. I went to New York University and studied advertising and public relations. My business has been in existence for five years. That’s basically all there is.”
“I find that hard to believe. There has to be some life behind all of those facts and figures.” He smiled encouragingly at her.
Terri stiffened. “I suppose there is,” she said softly, “but I don’t care to discuss it.” She turned her head toward the skyline, wishing that the pain would somehow go away.
He raised a hand to touch her, wanting her to know that he’d be willing to listen, but he knew that she wouldn’t give in. At least not yet.
“I know we got off to a bad start this afternoon,” he began, pacing his words and her reaction. “I’d like the opportunity to change that.”
Terri turned to him, the haunted look in her eyes stunning him with its intensity. She absently ran her hands down the sides of her gown, and Clint’s insides went haywire with the motion. He forced himself to look at her eyes instead of those delicious hips.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“I mean,” he said, taking a step closer, “I want you to see the real me.”
“Why would that be important?”
“Because it’s important to me,” he stated simply.
Terri swallowed and placed her hand on the balcony railing. She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “What is it that you think I need to know?”
“That I’m not such a bad guy—and that I’m sure you’ve heard and read a lot of things about me that aren’t true.” He leaned against the railing, inching closer to her. “I’d like to correct that.”
“Is this account that important to you?”
“It has nothing to do with the account.”
“Your ego, perhaps?”
The implications riled him, but he remained unruffled, realizing the truth of her words. He chuckled and ran a hand across his beard in a sensuous motion that rushed through Terri in waves.
“You do have a lovely way of stepping on a person’s ego,” he answered lightly.
Terri lowered her long, sooty lashes and gave in to a grin that Clint wanted to kiss away. “Believe me, it’s not my intention.”
“That’s good to know.” He leaned closer. “Can we just forget about business for a minute?” Terri nodded.
“I’d like to get to know you—outside of the office.” His steady gaze held her, and she felt her pulse begin to pick up its pace.
“I’ve always been a man who speaks his mind,” he continued, his voice dropping to a soothing beat. “And you interest me.”
“In other words, you want to satisfy some curiosity?” she tossed back.
“Maybe.”
Terri jutted her chin forward. “I’m not a curiosity piece, Mr. Steele,” she said, emphasizing the word piece.
Clint took the barb in stride. “You also have a way of twisting my words around.”
Terri sighed. “What’s your point, Mr. Steele?”
“I’d like to take you to…lunch.”
Her heart thumped. “I don’t think…”
“Dinner?” He flashed her a taunting grin. “I’d love to prove you wrong,” he challenged.
Terri knew her fragile emotional state was not yet equipped to handle a relationship, especially not one with a man who effortlessly made her senses go crazy. Yet she couldn’t deny that she was just as interested. Maybe a night out was the medicine she needed after so many months of loneliness. And she was never one to back down from a challenge.
She looked boldly up at him. “How about tomorrow? I finish about seven.”
His voice stroked her. “I’ll meet you out front.”
“I’ll see you then. Good night, Mr. Steele.” She made a move to leave in search of Mark, when Clint’s captivating voice stopped her.
“It’s Clint,” he said, throwing her a heated look that turned her center into liquid fire.
Her voice wrapped around him in invitation. “I’ll try to remember that.”
Chapter 2
The following morning was filled with chaos. There were press releases to go out, writers to interview and an assortment of trivial things that taxed the brain.
Yet even in the midst of the confusion and harried schedule, Terri could not shake Clinton Steele from her thoughts.
How could a man whose unsavory reputation preceded him evoke in her such warm feelings of desire? Terri had found herself lying awake the previous night reliving his touch, the depth of his voice, the scent of him that had clung to her hours after she’d left the reception.
She just found it difficult to believe that a man who could be so warm, so charming, so sensual would have done the unethical things that had been associated with him. Could she have been wrong?
The ringing of the phone intruded on her thoughts. She snatched up the receiver from its cradle.
“Terri Powers,” she said, her mind snapping back to business.
“I thought I’d wait at least twenty-four hours before I called.”
She swore that her heart stopped beating. A rush of heat flooded her body.
“Who is this?” Her fingers gripped the receiver—knowing.
His tone was lightly teasing. “I guess I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous to think that you’d remember me.” He paused a heartbeat of a second. “It’s Mr. Ego.”
She leaned back in her seat, took a silent deep breath and smiled. “Mr. Steele. What can I do for you?”
“Ah, so you do remember.”
Terri laughed outright. “You’re not an easy man to forget.”
“Then I guess that means we’re still on for dinner.”
His voice gently caressed her, and she trembled as if she’d been stroked by fire and ice.
“Yes. Of course. Did you have anyplace special in mind?”
“Why don’t I surprise you?”
“All right. Just as long as it’s not a late night. I have a very heavy schedule on Saturday.”
“What might that be? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Well, if you must know—” she pretended to sound annoyed but she was proud of her work, and it came through in her voice “—I teach African dance to a group of kids in my building on Saturday morning.”
Clint was impressed. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Are your students any good?”
Laughter bubbled in her voice. “Let’s just say they have potential.”
“In that case, I promise to get you home early.”
“Then I’ll see you at seven.”
Terri gently hung up the phone and tried to suppress the exhilaration that had taken control of her body. Then reality struggled for the upper hand. What in the world was she doing? She’d been divorced for only a year, although her marriage had been over before then—and now she was considering another man. A man who she had serious concerns with regarding his principles. Was it too soon? Well, maybe tonight she could put her unsettling feelings to rest.
The cheerful greeting from her friend and employee wrestled her away from her musings.
“Girl, it’s good to have you back,” Stacy declared as she hurried over and gave Terri a warm hug. “You have definitely been missed,” she added in her North Carolinian drawl.
“Thanks.” Terri chuckled, returning the embrace. “I feel as though I’ve been away forever instead of three months.”
“It felt like forever.” Stacy groaned as she took a seat on the sofa and slid her shoulder-length blond hair behind her ear with the tip of her finger. “With mad Mark Andrews in charge, I thought I’d go stark ravin’ outta my mind.”
Terri smiled knowingly. “He can be a bit much at times, but he’s one of the best advertising men in the business. Unfortunately we don’t always see eye to eye.” A slight frown creased her otherwise smooth mahogany brow.
“I can tell by that look that you’re not too pleased with that deal he’s been working on with Hightower Enterprises,” Stacy said. “I just got wind of it myself when I got back from vacation. I knew you’d want to know, and I was pretty sure that Mark hadn’t breathed a word to you about it.” Her green eyes, fringed with long black lashes, widened in question. “Am I right?”
Terri slowly crossed the airy office and took a seat behind her desk, twirling one of her ebony locks between her slender fingers.
“That’s an understatement. Mark knew perfectly well how I felt about Hightower Enterprises and its head honcho, Clinton Steele, in particular.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“We met yesterday, and I initially told Steele to find another agency. However, I’m considering taking another look at the proposal. But there’s some investigating I want to do on my own about Mr. Steele before I make my final decision.” She paused a moment. “We’re having dinner tonight.”
Stacy looked at her quizzically. “Really? That’s not usually your style.”
Her eyes held a faraway look as she spoke. “Mr. Steele is a very unusual man.”
“Do you want me to tag along?”
“No. I’m sure I can handle it. I suppose I could use the stimulation of a good debate to get my thoughts back in focus.”
Stacy heard the emptiness that filled the usually rich voice that she had come to know so well. She spoke softly. “Terri…I know that the divorce and then losing the baby right on top of it has been hell. But, well, if you want to talk, you know I’m always here.”
Terri forced a weak smile. “I know. But it will be a while before I can talk about it.” She lowered her thick lashes. “I really just want to put it out of my mind, Stacy. At least I won’t have to run into my ex anytime soon,” she added cynically.
“I heard through the grapevine that Alan is in L.A.”
Terri nodded, the acute pain of betrayal seizing her. “I can only hope that he finds what he thinks I couldn’t give him.”
Her turbulent four-year marriage to Alan Martin ran through her brain in a kaleidoscope of images. Everyone said that they made such a beautiful-looking couple, but that opposites must certainly attract. Terri, with her exotic natural beauty, had a sense of purpose rooted in the age-old philosophy of family and work for the common good. While Alan, with his playboy good looks, lived for the fast life, the quick money and personal gratification.
It was a marriage almost doomed to fail, but Terri had loved Alan unselfishly almost to the point of losing a part of herself in the process. But after the first blush of passion began to fizzle, Terri saw how unalike they truly were.
Involuntarily her hand stroked across her empty stomach—a place that not long ago had been filled with budding life. Terri blamed herself for the breakup with Alan, feeling that she could not be the kind of woman that he wanted. She’d never allow herself to be that vulnerable to anyone again.
“Terri,” Stacy called softly.
Terri shook her head, dispelling the visions, and focused on Stacy.
“Are you all right?”
“Sure,” Terri answered absently. “I’m fine.” She took a shaky breath and put on her best smile. “Now, if I’m ever going to get back in gear, I’d better get busy with the contracts for McPhearson. We’re scheduled to meet in a few days.”
“I have the promotional campaign almost all mapped out. I’d like you to take a look at it before I put on the final touches,” Stacy said.
“You’ve done a great job on it so far. I can’t see how they won’t love it. If you’re not busy this evening, maybe you can drop it off at my apartment. I’ll go over it during the weekend.”
“I’ll try. If not, it’ll be ready for you on Monday. But do you think you’ll be up to it after a night on the town with Mr. Steele?” she teased.
Terri shook her head in amusement. “Very funny.” She pushed herself up from her seat and walked Stacy to the door.
“Thanks for caring, Stacy.” She gave her a warm look. “It means a lot.”
Stacy patted Terri’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Anytime.”
Terri flashed a fleeting smile as Stacy left the office.
“Mark,” Terri called.
He stopped and waited for her near the elevator.
“I’m going out to lunch. I was expecting a call from McPhearson’s secretary. She hasn’t called yet. If she calls while I’m out, I’ve told Andrea to pass the call to you.”
She slipped into her lightweight, copper-colored trench coat.
“Do you want me to set up the meeting time?”
“Yes. Just check my calendar. I think any day next week will be fine.”
“No problem. I’ll take care of it. Oh, by the way, these need your signature.” He angled his head to the pile of folders under his arm. “I’ll leave them in your office.”
“Have you reviewed them?”
“With a fine-tooth comb.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I really don’t have the time to go through all of them. I’m swamped.”
“I figured as much.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mark.” She started to walk away.
Mark gave a derisive laugh that stopped her. “You’d do just fine. You have so far, haven’t you?” he challenged, his tone heavy with sarcasm.
Terri frowned. The cynicism of the remark grated on her. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“All it means is what I said. You’d…do…just…fine.” His jaw clenched.
“Is everything all right, Mark? You seem…”
“Listen.” He sighed. “I apologize.” He fingered the collar of his shirt and looked away. “I’m just a little tired—the pressure. That’s all.”
Terri noticed his nervous gesture. “Pressure never seemed to bother you before.”
“Well there’s a first time for everything,” he snapped, his expression growing hard. “Have you had a chance to go over the Hightower proposal again?” he asked, quickly shifting the direction of the conversation.
“I’ll get to them sometime next week,” Terri answered warily.
“Then I’ll check back by the middle of next week.” He turned to walk away. “Mark.”
He turned to face her, his eyes widening in question.
“We need to make some time to talk.”
“Really? About what?”
“About us.”
“Us?” He tossed his head back and laughed. “You flatter me. I didn’t know there was an us.”
Terri cocked her head to the side and placed her hand on her rounded hip. “You know perfectly well what I mean. You’ve been on edge ever since I’ve been back.”
“I think you’re overexaggerating, Terri.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I have work to do, and you have to do lunch.” He turned and strode down the corridor, leaving her completely bewildered by his behavior.
Mark returned to his office, his agitation barely held in check. He reached for the phone, tapping his fingers impatiently on the desktop as he waited. Finally the line was answered.
“Melissa Taylor,” said the low, controlled voice.
“Hi. This is Mark. I promised to call.”
“How are you, Mark?”
“Fine. But I’d be even better if you’d have dinner with me.”
Exiting the building, Terri turned left onto Lexington Avenue, ignoring the rush of lunch-goers as she strolled aimlessly down the busy street. Thoughts of her conversation with Mark unbalanced her usually light nature.
Something wasn’t right. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that Mark was jealous. Immediately she discarded the notion. She and Mark had worked side by side for nearly a year. She trusted him. She just couldn’t imagine—
“You look lost.”
She stopped short, a breath away from running into hard, muscular chest. Her heart thumped when she looked up into those eyes and down to the smile that spilled sunshine across her face.
“Clint…I mean…”
“You got it right the first time.” His eyes roamed slowly over her. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Her eyes briefly focused on her beige suede shoes, and her only wish at that moment was that the tiny crack in the sidewalk would open and swallow her.
“I was on my way to grab a bite and decided to take a stroll,” he said. “Are you out to lunch or just doing the window-shopping thing?”
Her eyes flashed at the last comment until she saw the laughter in his eyes. She couldn’t stop the smile that matched his.
“That’s better,” he said, his voice enveloping her like a cocoon. “I’m not into the shopping part, but could I interest you in something from—” he quickly scanned the busy avenue “—Original Ray’s?”
Her eyes followed his to the famous pizzeria across the street and her stomach gave a hungry twist at the mention of her favorite treat.
“Now don’t tell me you don’t eat pizza. That’s almost un-African-American.”
This time she laughed outright, and he memorized the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed and the high sculpted cheekbones that gave credence to her Caribbean heritage.
Hesitating a moment, she sucked in her bottom lip, looking at him then across at the pizzeria.
“Okay.” She held up a slender manicured finger tipped with soft orange. “But just one slice. I have to get back to the office.”
“And,” he said intimately, “I wouldn’t want you to ruin your appetite for dinner.” Then, like a conjurer, he took her proffered hand and it magically disappeared in his. Before she had the presence of mind to react, he was walking her across the street. As much as she hated to admit it, her hand felt fantastic in his.
“I guess you’ve heard all of the ugly rumors about me?” he asked, tearing off a piece of the steamy pizza and looking at her questioningly.
Terri took a deep breath. “Maybe. The question is, are they true?”
He smiled without humor. “That all depends. If you’ve heard that I’m a tough businessman, then it’s true. If you’ve heard that I make it my business to take what I want in life, then that’s also true.” He shot her a penetrating look that made her avert her gaze.
“Beyond that—” he shrugged his broad shoulders “—I’m just your regular guy.” He took a napkin and wiped his full lips, waiting for her response.
“You make it sound so matter-of-fact.”
“I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Terri noticed the momentary flash of pain that hovered behind those dark eyes. Then it was gone. Briefly she wondered who or what had pierced the impenetrable armor.
“You’re a very complex man, Clint.”
He laughed a deep soul-stirring rumble. “I’ve been called worse. Coming from you, however, I take it as a compliment.”
She took a nibble at her pizza and returned it to the paper plate.
“So have you changed your mind about me? My offer still stands.” Hope filled his dark eyes.
Instead of a direct answer, she toyed with him. “I very rarely change my mind once it’s made up. But I’m always open for discussion. If I have reason to listen.”
His voice lowered to a deep whisper, his response rattling her feigned poise. “Then we have a lot more than business to talk about.”
For several breathtaking seconds, their eyes held. “I’ve got to be getting back to the office,” she said, smoothly disguising her shredded composure. “I’ll see you later.”
Without another word, he rose from his seat, rounded the table and helped her on with her coat. The nearness of him set her heart racing and she knew she had to get away—fast.
“Thank you.” She looked up at him one last time. “I’ve got to go,” she breathed.
With that she made a hasty exit, darting in and out of the flow of traffic, the sensation of Clint nipping at her heels as eagerly as the fall breeze.
Terri massaged her temples. The figures just didn’t seem to make sense. She shook her head. Maybe she was just tired. It was past six-thirty and she had been going over the books and comparing dates for hours. Clint would be downstairs waiting. Her pulse quickened at the thought.
Closing the huge ledger, she reached into her desk drawer for her purse just as Andrea, her secretary, tapped on the door and entered.
“Present for the boss,” Andrea said, her face hidden behind long-stemmed flowers.
Terri eyed her secretary with skepticism. Andrea’s arm was laden with what looked to be more than two dozen Casablanca lilies. Quickly she got up from her desk to help with the burden.
“Where on earth did these come from?” Terri asked.
“They just arrived.”
Terri gently searched through the huge bouquet.
“There’s no card, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
Terri frowned. “Are you sure? How did they get here?” She placed the flowers on the desk and selected a vase from the credenza large enough to accommodate them.
“A messenger just brought them up. All I did was sign for them. They were addressed to you.”
Terri was puzzled. “I don’t understand. These are my favorite flowers,” she said in a wispy voice. She pressed her face against the bouquet and inhaled the heady aroma. “But who knows that?”
“Obviously someone does.” Andrea smiled. “I’ll put these in water and bring them right back.” She picked up the lilies and the vase and left the office.
“Thanks,” Terri answered absently.
For several moments she paced the room, trying to figure out who could have sent the flowers. The only people who knew of her passion for lilies were her adoptive parents, and she was sure that they hadn’t sent them. They were hundreds of miles away and weren’t the type of people who sent gifts just to be thoughtful. If it wasn’t an act that would get them a blurb in the society column, they didn’t bother. She’d probably mentioned it to several people, but to no one who would have gone to this extravagance. Clint?
She shook her head and smiled. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” she whispered, remembering her nana’s favorite line. Then she chuckled to herself, wondering for the zillionth time what in the world was a gift horse anyway?
Moments later, Andrea returned with the lilies safely deposited in the crystal vase.
“Where should I put these, Ms. Powers?”
“On the small table by the window. That should give them just enough light.”
“I’m all finished out front. If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to go home.”
“Of course, Andrea. I didn’t mean to keep you here so late. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Good night, Ms. Powers.”
“Good night.”
Left alone in the room Terri took one last look at her beautiful bouquet. It had been a long time since someone had sent her flowers. And she was going to enjoy every minute of it. She closed the door gently behind her.
Terri exited the building and was greeted by a cold burst of wind. October was a mysterious month. There was no telling what Mother Nature would send. The temperature had already dropped considerably since the afternoon, and she was thankful that she had decided to wear her trench coat. Her only wish was that she’d put in the lining.
Pulling the trench tightly around her trim body, she took a quick look up at the cloud-filled sky and wondered how far off was the first snowfall.
She checked her watch, noting that it was seven on the dot, and approached the curb to wait for Clint. Just as she neared the curb, a black Mercedes-Benz pulled up in front of her. Annoyed that the car had stopped and blocked her view of traffic, she started to walk to the corner just as the driver got out.
Leaning over the hood of the car, a look of pure mischief on his face, Clint held out one Casablanca lily between his fingers. “Can I take a few dozen lilies off your hands in exchange for dinner?”
Chapter 3
Terri tried to keep the conversation light and impersonal throughout dinner, but the mellow atmosphere and soft music at B. Smith’s Restaurant lent itself to intimacy. Within a short space of time she found herself laughing at Clint’s wry sense of humor and actually forgetting all of the things she’d heard and read about him.
He was animatedly recounting an incident that had occurred in the health club. “My friend Steve really had me just where he wanted me,” he laughed. “There I was, spread-eagled on the bench with a hundred-pound weight hanging over my head.”
“What did you do?”
“Cried uncle, what else?”
Terri shook her head in laughter, visualizing Clint’s precarious plight.
“What do you do in your spare time?” he asked, loving the way her crimson dress hugged her curves.
“Read mostly. I play tennis in the summer, dance all year long and I love riding through the park. But it’s gotten so dangerous lately, I’ve cut back.”
His voice lowered and raked over her. “I’d be more than happy to be your protector.”
She looked at him coyly. “Maybe.” Now why did I say that?
“That’s the best answer you’ve given me to date. My faith in humanity is restored.”
She lowered her thick lashes, her heart beating wildly. Then she looked up. “How did you know about the lilies?” she asked softly.
“I always make it my business to find out all I can about anything or anyone that interests me. In other words, I ask questions. I had my secretary dig up an article that was written about you in Black Enterprise. You mentioned your passion for the lilies in the article.”
Her stomach lurched at the pointed look that he threw her way, but she kept her expression unreadable, which enticed Clint all the more.
“I believe I’ll have to follow that philosophy,” she replied.
“So, you’ve found something that has piqued your curiosity,” he tossed back, enjoying the game.
“Perhaps. If there’s anything of interest, I’ll be sure to let you know.” Her smile was a taunt, and Clint’s insides tightened.
“Would you like anything else?” His voice was thick with the emotions that he struggled to control. Terri unwittingly brought out the passion in him that he hadn’t felt for anyone in years. Every time he heard her voice or saw her face, he thought of what it would be like to unleash that cool control that she displayed so well.
“No. I’m stuffed. The red snapper was delicious.” She finished the last of her spring water, secretly enjoying the heat that blazed in Clint’s eyes and shook his voice.
“I’m glad you liked it. I haven’t been here in a while, but the food is still the way I remember it.”
“Do you come here often?”
“From time to time. Usually on business meetings.”
The mention of business brought her back to reality.
“From the look on your face, you’d think I said a bad word.” He stared at her.
“It just makes me wonder what you want with me. After all, you’re in a very nasty business.”
“Let me set the record straight.” He took a deep breath. “I involve myself in businesses that are on the brink of folding, or businesses that I feel can be better managed by me. Where is the crime in that?”
“That’s putting it delicately.” She crumpled the linen napkin into a ball, her temper flaring.
“Delicate but true.”
“You make what you do sound like a humanitarian gesture. How can you sleep at night knowing what you’ve done to so many people?”
He clenched his jaw. “I don’t do anything that I’m not allowed to do within the law.” Exasperation filled his voice. “If I make an offer to a company and they accept, what’s the harm?”
“The harm is that they give you everything they’ve worked for, and you reap the benefits. You’ve built your fortune on the backs of other people. Our people!” Her voice rose in anger. “What gives you that right?”
Their eyes locked in a battle of wills.
Clint glared at her. How dare she make him feel guilty? He was never one to blow his own horn, and he’d be damned if he’d start now. If she really wanted to know about him, let her do her own homework.
Clint was the first to break the icy contact. “If you’re ready, I’ll drive you home,” he said in a tight voice.
“I can catch a cab, thank you,” she answered, annoyed with herself for letting her emotions get out of control.
Clint signaled for the waiter and paid the check. Terri rose to slip on her coat, but not before Clint rounded the table and took it from her.
Slowly, deliberately, he helped her into her coat, the nearness of him sending her pulse on a wild gallop. He pressed his lips close to her ear, inhaling her scent, his warm breath tingling her neck.
“I don’t want the evening to end like this, Terri. I’m not interested in the campaign with your company. I can get another agency to do it. I want you and I to be friends—more than friends.”
The suggestiveness of his words forced her to look up at him.
Was it sincerity that she saw brimming in those pools of midnight or was it something else?
“I—I don’t know how that could be possible. We come from two different worlds.”
“Not two different worlds, Terri. Two different points of view. But that’s what makes a relationship interesting.”
She stepped out of his grasp, her body on fire. She reached for her purse. Her voice shuddered. “I’ve got to be going.”
“I’ll get you a cab.”
A cold wind blew viciously around them, and a shiver ran up Terri’s spine. Clint instinctively put his arm around her shoulder, easing her next to his body.
Before she could protest, a yellow cab pulled up to the corner and she thankfully stepped out of his embrace.
Clint reached around her and opened the car door. With her nerves strung to near popping, she threw out her address in a gush.
“Get the lady home safely,” Clint instructed the driver. He looked down at Terri’s upturned face. “Until we meet again,” he said softly, “and we will.” He smiled and closed the car door.
It seemed an eternity before she finally reached her apartment on Twenty-eighth Street. Her head was pounding, and she massaged her temples hoping to relieve the nervous pressure.
Taking the short elevator ride up to the third floor, she put her key in the door and stepped into the cozy comfort of her apartment.
Mechanically she hung her coat on the brass coatrack and deposited her shoes in the foyer. Then she headed straight for the fireplace, and within moments the finely decorated rooms were filled with the warmth from the crackling flames.
Crossing the gleaming wood floors, she sank down into the cottony soft comfort of her bronze-colored couch, closing her eyes against the events of the evening. Instantly a vision of Clint bloomed before her, and she involuntarily trembled, remembering all too well the feel of him, the richness of his scent, the timbre of his voice.
She jumped back up from the couch, afraid of where her feelings were taking her, and turned on the stereo, hoping to muffle the rapid beating of her heart, just as the doorbell rang.
She frowned, wondering who could be ringing her bell. Then she remembered that Stacy had said she might stop by.
Without thinking further, she padded across the room and flung open the door, a small smile of expectation lighting her face.
Clint’s lips swept down on hers. His arms enfolded her in a powerful grip. Terri’s heart slammed against her breasts as she was helplessly carried away by the sensation of his lips.
Her mind commanded her to pull away, but her body succumbed to the temptation of his tongue toying with her lips, separating them as he entered her mouth. He tasted of wine and a touch of mint. How good the two were together, she thought dizzily.
How long had it been since she’d been held, been kissed, been made to feel like a woman by just a look? Suddenly the emptiness began to slowly fill and like one ravaged by thirst, she drank of the waters.
He never knew a simple kiss could be like this. He stroked her back, delving into her mouth, wanting to seek out all of the hidden places. She was soft and strong all at once, a candy sweetness that demanded that he take more and more. He moaned against her mouth as arousal overtook him, hardening him to near bursting. His body demanded release, but his mind took control.
He released her, and she was sure that if it wasn’t for the hand that still gripped the doorknob, she would have crumpled.
“I knew I’d forgotten something,” he stated in a ragged voice, his eyes stripping her bare. With that he turned and strode down the corridor, leaving her trembling.
As she drifted off to sleep that night, her last conscious thought was that she’d have to do some serious checking on the devastating Mr. Steele.
Chapter 4
Rising early Monday morning, Terri completed her half hour of meditation, prepared her usual glass of carrot juice and took a quick shower.
Searching through her closet she selected a brilliant green silk dress with fiery splashes of red and bold gold throughout. As an added accessory, she chose an oblong gold silk scarf that draped dramatically across her right shoulder. A small gold pin in the shape of Queen Nefertiti held the scarf in place. To take away from her girlish looks, she twisted her shoulder-length locks into an intricate twist on the top of her head, accentuating her sculpted features.
Satisfied with her look, she completed her outfit by selecting a pair of green suede pumps. With shoes and purse in hand, she padded to the door in stockinged feet before slipping into her shoes.
She checked her watch. It was almost ten o’clock. She wasn’t due in the office until after twelve. That would give her at least an hour of research time in the business library. She was going to dig up every article, news item and gossip clipping that she could find on Clinton Steele and Hightower Enterprises.
Nearly two hours later, armed with a dossier full of information, Terri left the library, hailed a cab and headed for her office. She was stunned to discover the volumes of information that had been written about Clint over the past ten years. It would take days, maybe even weeks, to sort through it all. But she would—of that she was sure.
She leaned back in the cab and considered her next step. As soon as she arrived at work, she’d give her friend Lisa Barrett a call. Lisa had worked as the head of proposals for the Gateway Foundation for fifteen years. Gateway solicited help from all of the major corporations in the United States to support charitable causes and community services. Any company worth its salt had contributed at some point. Powers, Inc., had made sizable contributions over the years, and Terri was sure that if anyone knew about the inner workings of the businesses in New York it would be Lisa.
Arriving at her office, Terri quickly placed a call to Lisa.
“Lis, hi, it’s Terri.”
“Hey, hon, how are you? I haven’t heard from you in days. Are you back at work?”
“In answer to your first question, I’m okay. And yes, I’m back at work, but I need a favor.”
“Doesn’t everybody,” Lisa commented drolly. “What might yours be?”
“I need you to check out Clinton Steele. He owns—”
“Believe me, I know what he owns.” Her voice was filled with amazement. “You’re really moving into the big time. What do you want to know?”
“Anything that you can find. He made a bid for us to do an ad campaign, but I don’t like what I’ve heard about him. Still, I’d like to give the man the benefit of the doubt.”
“I’d like to give the man a lot of things, but doubt isn’t one of them,” Lisa quipped wistfully.
“Lisa,” Terri moaned, “come on, this is serious.”
“All right—all right. I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thanks, Lis. Call me when you do.”
With that out of the way, Terri diligently tried to focus on the meeting with McPhearson ahead of her. She’d prepared her notes, gone over Stacy’s campaign strategy and had dressed the part of the executive to the hilt.
Yet even with all of her preparation, she could not shake thoughts of Clint from her mind. Every free second for the past two days, visions of him assaulted her. She couldn’t count how many times she’d relived his kiss. Just the thought of it sent jolts of electricity whistling through her veins. Damn you, Clinton Steele! she thought. Why now, when my whole life is in a tailspin? And why you?
Sighing deeply, she got up from her desk and smoothed her dress. She hadn’t heard from him since that night, and maybe it was just as well. Things were getting too complicated too fast.
She checked the antique grandfather clock that stood against the wall. The representatives from McPhearson were due in her office any minute.
Where was Mark? she wondered, her agitation building. He should have been here an hour ago. She crossed the room in long-legged strides and pressed the intercom.
“Andrea?”
“Yes, Ms. Powers?”
“Has Mark arrived yet?”
“He just walked in.”
“As soon as he’s ready, would the two of you come in? You’ll need to bring your Dictaphone, Andrea. I want every word recorded. And buzz Stacy also.”
“Yes, Ms. Powers.”
Terri returned to her desk just as her private line rang. “Terri Powers,” she answered.
“Ms. Powers, this is Mr. McPhearson’s secretary.”
“Oh, yes. I wasn’t expecting a call. Is there a delay in the meeting time?” She immediately flipped open her plan book, hugging the phone between her shoulder and her ear, pen poised and waiting.
“Uh, Ms. Powers—Mr. McPhearson wants me to inform you that he’s changed his mind about the campaign.”
“What?” She dropped the pen between the ivory pages. “I don’t understand. Everything was set.”
“That’s all the information I have, Ms. Powers.”
“Let me speak with Mr. McPhearson.” Her pulse pounded in her ears.
“He’s in a meeting.”
Terri would have laughed at the practiced line if she wasn’t so furious. “Would you have him call me as soon as he’s through?”
“He’s leaving directly for the airport when the meeting concludes.”
“I see.” Terri swallowed, her back stiffening. “Thank you.”
Blindly she hung up the phone, a sinking feeling taking over. This deal was critical. She couldn’t believe that McPhearson would pull out, just like that. There had to be some explanation, and she was damn sure going to find out what it was.
She paced the floor, her teeth biting her bottom lip, trying to contemplate a course of action.
There was a light tap at the door.
“Come in,” Terri said offhandedly.
Stacy stepped in.
“All ready for the big boys?” Stacy asked. She took a seat at the round conference table on the far side of the office.
Terri blew out an exasperated breath. “McPhearson’s secretary called.”
“About what?” Stacy took a sip of black coffee and tossed her blond hair behind her ears.
“It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. They reneged.”
“What?”
“You heard right. They pulled out,” Terri said.
“But why? They couldn’t have gotten a better deal if they’d whipped it up themselves.”
“Apparently they did.”
“I don’t believe it.” She ran a hand through her hair.
“Neither do I.”
“So now what?”
Terri raised her eyebrows. “I’ll have to think it through and explore some other options. We’ll really have to push for a confirmation with Viatek Studios. I want you to work on that right away.”
Stacy nodded and jotted down some hasty notes. “Does Mark know about McPhearson?”
“I haven’t seen Mark yet.”
“This was his advertising deal originally, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Then almost as an afterthought, she added, “And so was the account that fell through with Conners, the independent producer,” in a voice filled with awakening.
She turned to Stacy, her eyes burning with purpose. “As soon as I inform Mark that the deal has been canceled, I want you and I to go over Mark’s files with a fine-tooth comb, as he puts it. I went over the books last week, and there are things that don’t make sense. I thought it was because I was tired but now I wonder…”
Stacy nodded, her sea-green eyes reflecting Terri’s concern. “I’ll see what else I can dig up from the logs,” Stacy added just as Andrea peeked her head in the door.
“Mark is here, Ms. Powers.”
“Tell him to come in, Andrea.”
Mark strolled in moments later, his light brown eyes shifting from one woman to the other. “Why the long faces?” He walked over to the water cooler and filled a paper cup.
“McPhearson canceled the deal,” Terri stated. She watched for his reaction.
“You’re kidding? I worked weeks on that deal.” He ran his index finger around the collar of his shirt.
She registered the move. “I’m sure you did.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means we’ll have to do some rearranging of our finances.”
“Well, if you’d accept Steele’s proposal we’d—”
She cut him off. “What time is your flight to Detroit?”
“I have to be at the airport in an hour.”
Terri turned away, unable to look at him another minute. “Tell your folks I said hello. We’ll talk when you get back.”
“Fine!” Mark snatched up his notes and his briefcase and slammed out of the office.
Terri turned to Stacy. “As soon as he’s out of the building, I want you to pull his files. Everything.”
Hours later, exhausted and wanting to disbelieve what was in front of her, Terri closed the folders that Stacy had given her. The evidence was clear, and she had no alternative.
Slowly she got up from her desk, her heart heavy with regret, wondering what she could have done differently. She didn’t know. All she could do now was prepare for Mark’s return.
Stretching, her body aching with fatigue, she envisioned sinking into a steamy bubble bath, when a picture of Clint intruded on her thoughts. Her pulse raced at an alarming speed as she remembered the feel of his lips against hers… The part of her that wanted more wondered what it would be like to make love with him.
This was getting crazy, she thought, angry at herself for fantasizing about a man who definitely was not for her. She hadn’t heard from him since their dinner date, and the thought that he was playing games with her renewed her frustration and misgivings.
Gathering her purse and briefcase, she took her coat from the rack and began to leave the office just as the phone rang.
She started to let the answering service pick up the call but decided against it, thinking that it might be important.
“Terri Powers,” she answered by rote.
“Terri, it’s Clint.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Does he read my mind, or what? “Yes?”
“I haven’t been able to get you off of my mind.”
Me, either. Silence.
“How are you?”
If you only knew. “I’ve been better.”
“You don’t sound like yourself. Is something wrong?”
“I couldn’t begin to explain.” But she desperately wanted to. She wanted to feel his arms around her again, to hear his laughter, to taste his lips. But she couldn’t.
“Listen, uh, I’m really tired, Clint. You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.”
“Maybe you should talk about it. That helps, you know.”
“Not this time.”
He wouldn’t be dismissed. “Why don’t I meet you? We could go for dinner or something. Maybe a drive.” He drummed his fingers on the desk, waiting for her response.
“Clint, I really…”
“I’ll be downstairs in ten minutes. Wait for me, Terri.”
The next sound she heard was the dial tone.
Terri waited in quiet agitation for the elevator to reach her floor. Why was he doing this to her? A better question was, why was she doing this to herself? She knew perfectly well that Clint was not the kind of man to be taken lightly. What was more disturbing, he was the kind of man that fascinated her against her better judgment. That reality frightened her.
Finally the elevator arrived, and her heart raced as the metal box made its painstakingly slow descent.
She pulled her white cashmere coat tightly around her as a shiver jetted up her spine at the thought of seeing him. Maybe he wouldn’t be there, and she could just escape to the sanctuary of her apartment. Just like she’d been doing for months, hiding from the possibility of life as she once knew it—too frightened to take any more chances. But there was another part of her that longed to be fulfilled again, the part that hoped he’d be waiting.
The doors of the elevator opened on the lobby level. Terri stepped out, her head held high. Casually she looked toward the revolving doors. Her spirits sank when she realized that Clint was nowhere in sight. Fine!
She strode purposefully forward, anticipation replaced with annoyance. Why did it matter? she chastised herself, pushing through the revolving doors. This was probably just another game to Clint.
Her temper rolled to the surface as she stood on the windy corner to hail a taxi. She waved her hand at an oncoming cab. As it approached, the cab’s dome light flashed the off-duty sign.
Terri went livid, wanting to scream and cry all at the same time. That was the final insult of the day. She really didn’t know how much more she could—
“You weren’t going to wait?”
Clint’s voice seemed to massage her spine and unlock the tension that had gripped her. She turned toward the sound of his voice and looked up at him, the anxiety and frustration of the day brimming in her brown eyes. How easy it would be to just walk into his arms and let him soothe the aches away.
She remained immobile.
Something in the way she looked at him touched a hidden corner of his heart. He reached out and placed his large hands on her shoulders. “Terri, what’s wrong?” Concern softened his voice. “You look like you’ve been crying.”
Terri blinked and swallowed back the lump in her throat. “It’s just the wind,” she answered with a calmness that surprised her.
“I got stuck in traffic,” he said by way of apology.
“Oh.”
Why did he suddenly feel like a little boy having to explain his misbehavior? The awkward feeling left him unnerved. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Can I at least give you a lift?”
She gave him a half smile and shrugged her right shoulder. “You could drop me off at my apartment. If you don’t mind.”
“No problem. My car is over—” He looked across the busy intersection to see a traffic cop sticking a ticket on his windshield.
“Hey!” he yelled as he immediately darted through traffic to the other side of the street. He snatched the ticket from the window, intent on making the offender eat it.
Clint strode over to the “brownie,” as they were dubbed by New Yorkers for their brown uniforms, and shook the ticket in his face.
“Listen, buddy,” Clint hissed, interrupting the officer from writing another ticket. “I was there for only a minute. What’s the deal with this ticket?” He checked his watch. “It’s five after seven. I can legally park here.”
“Not by my watch,” the brownie said, dismissing Clint.
“Your watch is wrong!” Clint stalked the officer as he moved to the next car.
“If you think so, then take it to court.”
The officer walked away, leaving Clint to throw daggers at his back.
Terri gingerly eased alongside of an irate Clint, fighting hard to stifle the giggles that bubbled in her throat. This was the first time that she had truly seen the cool, controlled Clint totally bent out of shape. Her only regret was that she didn’t have a camera.
“How much is it?” she asked in a tiny voice.
“Fifty damn dollars!” he spat, slamming his palm against the hood of the Benz. He looked at the ticket in disbelief, then across at Terri, whose face was contorting in silent hilarity.
“Go ahead—laugh,” he said, his own anger giving way to the ridiculousness of it all. A reluctant grin lifted one side of his mouth.
Finally, through tears and giggles, she pointed a finger at him, the laughter still bubbling over. “You should have seen the look on your face,” she said.
“You think this is all very amusing, don’t you?” he said, trying to sound threatening.
Terri wiped her eyes and took several deep breaths. “Actually I do. I mean, let’s face it, you can afford it.”
“Now that makes me feel a helluva lot better.”
“Well,” Terri offered, pulling herself together, “I guess the least I could do is treat you to dinner. After all, if you hadn’t come to see me, none of this—” she covered her budding smile with a gloved hand “—would have happened.”
“You know what?” He looked at her hard and braced her shoulders. “I’m gonna take you up on your offer.”
After a delicious meal in Chinatown, punctuated by con genial conversation, Clint drove Terri to her apartment building. The plush luxury of the Benz was like a soothing balm to her tense body. Slowly she began to relax, her voice a mere whisper when she spoke.
“I’ve always wanted to learn to drive a stick shift,” she said dreamily, “but it’s such a hassle with the stop-and-go Manhattan traffic.”
“I know what you mean.” He switched into Second gear. “But after living in England and driving on the open road, it became second nature to me. I love the feel of power,” he added, tossing her a searing look as he held on to the stick.
“I didn’t know you lived in England.”
“Yeah, for a while,” he said, wishing that he’d never mentioned that part of his life. Just the idea of her saying she wanted to learn to drive a standard drove the knife of guilt through his gut, painfully reminding him of his daughter, whom he’d left behind in the care of his sister-in-law, because he’d caused her mother’s—his wife’s—death.
“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.”
“Hmm.”
Terri looked at him from the corner of her eye, in time to see the hard, dark expression that passed across his face. She decided not to probe and leaned back against the leather cushion of the headrest. Maybe some other time.
Where had all of the tension gone? As much as she was reluctant to admit it, she enjoyed being in Clint’s company. He made her laugh, he lightened her spirit. He was intelligent and witty, and he was undeniably sexy. Clint made her feel things that she hadn’t felt in so long. Only this time it was more powerful, more compelling. And she wanted it.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts as he made the turn onto her street.
If she could have turned red, she would have been crimson. She felt certain that he could read her thoughts, and she felt suddenly exposed.
“Oh, just about some things at the office.”
“You never did tell me what was bothering you.” He pulled up in front of her door.
She looked at him, her voice softening. “It doesn’t really matter now.”
“If it affects you, Terri, then it matters.”
She fumbled with her purse. “It’s getting late. I—”
He reached for her, turning her to face him. “You keep running from me.”
His voice wrapped around her.
“Every time we get close, you run from me like a scared little girl.”
He gently stroked her face.
She held her breath.
“You’re a woman, Terri.” His eyes roamed over her, igniting her. “A desirable, sensual woman who I want in my life. But you have to give me a chance.”
Could he possibly mean what he was telling her? Or was this just a ploy? Maybe he was right. How would she ever know, if she never gave him the chance? Curiosity won out.
“Would you like to come up for a nightcap?” She smiled a tentative smile. “I think I have some fruit juice and chips.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Terri opened her apartment door and immediately stepped out of her shoes, instructing Clint to do the same. She grinned at his perplexed look.
“When you leave your shoes at the door,” she explained, “you leave all of the bad vibes behind you and just bring peace into your home.”
“Hmm…” Clint nodded, handing her his shoes “…sounds good to me.”
“Well, come on in and make yourself comfortable. You can hang your coat on the rack.” She pointed to the brass coatrack and headed for the living room. She turned on the CD player, and seconds later the music of Miles Davis blew a soulful tune in the background. Terri left Clint and went to prepare a platter of chips with a cheese dip and a bowl of pretzels.
“You have a great place, Terri,” Clint commented, admiring the ethnic artwork and handcrafted sculpture. Huge earthen urns sat majestically in corners, overflowing with fresh-cut flowers in some and arrangements of silk in others.
“Thanks,” she called from the kitchen, quietly pleased that he liked her taste. “Would you light a fire, please?”
“Sure.” He walked to the fireplace and got the fire going. Finished, he roamed over to her bookcase and saw that she had volumes of poetry as well as what appeared to be every espionage and crime story ever written. What a strange combination, he thought, more fascinated than ever.
Terri entered the living room and placed the tray of snacks on the smoked-glass table.
“I see you’ve found out my secret,” she said, walking up behind him. “I’m a closet poet with a murderous streak.”
“The poet part I don’t mind,” he answered jovially, “it’s the other half that scares me. Actually, as quiet as it’s kept, I read a lot of poetry. It relaxes me. Especially after a rough day.”
Terri’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Really?”
“Let that be our little secret.” He lowered his voice to a pseudo-whisper. “I don’t want to ruin my dubious reputation.”
Terri replied in kind. “Your secret is safe with me. Just don’t cross me,” she teased. “Come on and sit down. After I’ve been slaving over a hot stove for hours, I want you to eat every drop.”
Clint chuckled as he followed her to the couch.
“…So when I discovered that the books didn’t jibe, it made me do some additional checking. To make a long story short, I don’t like what I found.” She was still reluctant to tell him too much. The last thing she needed was his sympathy or for him to think that she was totally incompetent. “I’ve worked hard to get to where I am, Clint. This company means everything to me. I’ve sacrificed a lot and I’ve given a lot. All I expect in return is honesty and a good day’s work.”
Could he dare tell her that he’d embarked on his own investigation? Good sense told him to hold off revealing his suspicions. He had to be absolutely positive, first. His years in business had honed his instincts. He was certain that something was amiss at her agency. Tentatively he put his arm around her. “What are you going to do now?”
“I have a few things in mind,” she said, enjoying the weight of his arm around her shoulders. But she wasn’t sure she should divulge her plan.
Clint moved a stray lock from her face and tucked it behind her ear, pleased with the silky quality of her hair.
She looked at him and felt her heart lurch.
With painful slowness, he lowered his head, his eyes holding hers. The flames from the fireplace appeared to dance in her eyes.
She knew her heart was going to explode into a million little pieces as his mouth slowly descended to meet her own.
The contact was incendiary, and Terri was certain that she heard fireworks erupt in the background.
The velvet warmth of his lips gently brushed over hers, taunting, tempting her with what was to come.
And it came.
The fire of his tongue played across her mouth as he spread his fingers through her twisted mane, pulling her completely against his hungry mouth.
Instinctively her lips parted and the tip of his tongue played teasing games, exploring her mouth, sending jolts of current surging through her.
He moaned against her lips, a deep carnal sound that vibrated to her center. Terri felt the heat race through her limbs as his fingers traced the pulse that pounded in her throat.
She wanted to scream when he pulled his mouth away from her lips, only to plant wet, hot kisses across her face, down her neck. Then he let his tongue play havoc in her ear, and every fiber of her body ignited.
“Clint…” She trembled against him.
A tingle of excitement ran through her as his hand trailed down the curve of her back, pulling her closer, caressing her, causing her body to arch, her rounded breasts to press against his chest, and he knew he would go out of his mind.
“I want you, Terri,” he groaned in her ear.
His mouth covered hers again, his tongue slashing against hers, demanding, urgent.
Her arms tightened around his hard muscular frame. She stroked the strong tendons of his neck, the outline of his chest. She felt as if she was falling, spinning weightless through space, and she never wanted the feeling to end. But she knew it had to stop. The door to her past was still ajar, and until she could empty it fully, no one else could enter.
His mind spun in a maelstrom of confusion. What was he doing? This was not part of the plan for his life. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, to want her from the depth of his being. His body ached to be a part of hers. But he couldn’t do this to her. She was sure to think that he was just trying to romance her in order to get her to agree to the deal. He wanted her to want him for the right reasons, or not at all.
As if reading each other’s minds, slowly they pulled away—each trying to control the shudders that ripped through them.
“I…I’m sorry.” He stroked her cheek. “I didn’t—”
“It’s okay, Clint,” Terri stuttered, breathless and in awe of what had almost taken place.
He gently pulled her into his embrace, fighting back the desires that wrestled to engulf him.
“I won’t rush you, Terri,” he whispered in a ragged breath. “As much as I may want to,” he added with a soft smile.
She touched his lips with her own. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Reluctantly he rose from the couch. “I’d better go.” He smiled mischievously down at her, mimicking an old Western movie. “I cain’t guarantee your honor, m’am, if’n I stay.”
Terri released a shaky laugh and stood up in front of him. She slipped her arms around his waist, looking up into his eyes.
“Then I’d say you’d better mosey on outta here, mister,” she teased, matching his parody.
He held her for a long moment, burying his face in her hair, his confusion complete. Then he released her.
“I’ll get your coat,” she offered.
At the doorway Terri felt ridiculously like a teenager on her first date. Her nerves rattled, and her heart was pounding so loud she just knew Clint could hear every beat.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.
“I’d like that.”
Clint leaned down and brushed her lips. The contact was too brief and he wanted more. Pulling her into his arms he kissed her fully, her own desire matching his every rhythm.
He eased away. “I’ve got to go,” he said, his voice thick with desire. He started to leave, then turned back. “You’ll be happy to know that I’ve found another advertising agency to do the work. So now there’s no more business to interfere.” His dark eyes bored into hers. “This is purely personal. The rest is up to you.” He turned away, never looking back to see the expression of astonished relief spread across her face.
As if on a cloud, Terri glided back into the living room, a smile of contentment lighting her face as she replayed his final words. This is purely personal.
She changed the CD, replacing Miles Davis with Kenny G. Crossing the living room, she walked down the narrow hallway to the bathroom. Mechanically she turned on the tub water, adding her favorite bubble bath. Soon the herbal aroma filled the room, and her weary body nearly screamed for relief. Piece by piece she stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the steamy water.
Terri sank into the tub, the bubbles coming up to her chin. She closed her eyes, letting the steam envelop her, and a picture of Clint sprang to life before her eyes—and she trembled.
His mouth seemed to caress every part of her body, kneading all of the aches away. A soft moan of remembrance filtered through her lips, and she silently wished that he was there with her.
She felt the slow, steady warming that spread through her body and knew that it had nothing to do with the steaming water. And she wondered what it would have been like making love with Clint. How soon, if ever, would she know?
After a fantasy-filled half hour, Terri finally curled up into bed, sinking into the comfort of the freshly washed sheets. She reached for the book of poetry she kept by her nightstand, determined to ease away the last vestiges of tension and images of Clint.
Just as she was about to drift off to sleep, the ringing of the phone jarred her back to consciousness.
Annoyance replaced curiosity as she drowsily reached for the intrusive instrument.
“Hello?” she mumbled.
“Terri, it’s me, Lisa.”
“Lisa,” she groaned. “It’s late.”
“I know. But I got the info you wanted. I thought you’d be interested.”
Terri sat straight up in her bed. Please let it be good.
“Your Mr. Steele is, anonymously, one of the biggest individual benefactors that the Gateway Foundation has.”
Chapter 5
The morning sun was barely up in the sky when Clint rose from his bed. He’d spent a torturous night, reliving what almost was. More times than he cared to count he’d reached for the phone to dial Terri’s number. Each time, halfway through dialing, he’d hung up. The next move was Terri’s. He’d put his cards on the table.
Pulling on a terry-cloth robe he padded across the bedroom and opened his dresser drawer. Rifling through his possessions, he pulled out a cutoff T-shirt and an old pair of shorts. Crossing to the closet, he selected a navy blue sweat suit and a pair of sneakers. Usually a brisk run around the park revitalized him and cleared his head.
An hour later he lay sprawled across his king-size bed, drenched in perspiration from his morning jog. His frustration was still alive and well.
Staring up at the stucco ceiling, his hands clasped behind his head, a slow smile of acceptance spread across his face. Terri was under his skin to stay, and no amount of jogging was going to change it.
Terri strode down the office corridor, looking neither left nor right. How could she have been so narrow-minded and gullible to be taken in by rumors and speculation? She should have gone along with her instincts in the first place. She smiled ruefully. There was no way that her senses could have been that far off base if they went into crisis every time she thought of Clint.
She closed her office door with a thud, tossing her briefcase on the desk, her coat shortly behind.
Her head ached from the hours of reading she had done after Lisa’s call. She’d forced herself to go through as many of the reports that she’d gotten from the library as she could before she’d fallen asleep. That, compounded with the company ledgers, was enough to keep her head spinning for weeks. But she had work to do, and it would begin with a process of elimination.
She reached for the phone and dialed Stacy’s extension.
Stacy picked up on the second ring.
“Stacy Williams, here.”
“Stacy, I need you in my office in an hour. In the meantime I want you to pull the accounting records for the past six months and compare them to the figures we came up with last night.”
“Sure. Anything else?”
“The sooner the better. I want to get that SOB out of here as soon as possible.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Thanks.”
Terri hung up the phone, then proceeded to unlock the file cabinet, retrieving the files that she had examined the previous night. The pages in front of her seemed to laugh at her naïveté.
She shook her head in disbelief. Powers, Inc., was on the brink of deep financial trouble, and she had let it happen. Her trusting nature had overruled her business judgment, and it had cost her dearly. For the past year she’d felt like a failure as a wife and then as a mother. All she had left was her business, and now even that was threatened.
No more.
She quickly crossed the office and went out into the small reception area. Andrea was just taking her seat.
“Good morning, Ms. Powers,” she greeted cheerfully, then changed her tone when she saw the thunderclouds raging in Terri’s dark eyes. “Is something wrong?”
“Not for long,” she responded. “I need you to get Al Pierce, the accountant, on the phone. Tell him to stop whatever he’s doing. I want him here within the hour, along with all of the records that have anything to do with Powers, Inc. Make sure that he understands that this is not a request. This is a command performance. If he gives you the slightest bit of a problem, put me on the line and I’ll handle him.”
“Yes, Ms. Powers,” she said meekly.
“Thank you. Oh, and as soon as Mr. Andrews arrives, send him into my office.”
Terri turned back toward her office before Andrea had a chance to respond.
Andrea couldn’t remember ever seeing Terri this angry before. This must be serious, she thought, thankful that the boss’s rage was not directed at her. She flipped through her Rolodex and found the accountant’s number.
Clint stared pensively at the folders in front of him. He’d wrestled with what he had to do for several days. His decision was made. His friend Steve’s investigation of Mark had come up with some very damning information, and he felt compelled to tell Terri, whether she accepted his help or not.
The tapping on his office door snapped him to attention. Melissa strolled in.
“You wanted to see me, Clint?” she asked, beaming a brilliant smile.
“Yes. Have a seat.”
Melissa took a seat opposite Clint, seductively crossing her long legs. She regarded him thoughtfully, gaining a joyous satisfaction in studying his profile. Her strong admiration and loyalty for Clint bordered on the romantic, but she was always careful never to cross that line. She sighed silently, wishing that one day he’d see past her brains to the woman who could rock his world.
“You’ve been seeing Mark Andrews.” His question was more of a statement, and Melissa wasn’t sure if she should be angry or flattered by his interest.
“I won’t even begin to ask you how you know,” she stated candidly, the years of working together being enough of an answer. “Is there a problem that I should know about?”
Clint slowly crossed the room, sliding his hands into his pants pockets. He turned to face her.
“There could be. I got some bad vibes from him when the deal with Powers, Inc., fell through. Some things didn’t sit right with me. I’ve had someone do some investigating on our Mr. Andrews, and I don’t like what I’ve found out.”
Melissa’s heart tripped. The only man that had truly interested her in years had been Clint. There’d been others to fill the gaps, even Clint’s buddy Steve. When she met Mark, she thought that she had finally found someone to take her mind off of Clint—permanently. Or at least until Clint woke up and truly saw her. Now she had a bad feeling that she wasn’t going to like what she was going to hear.
Melissa returned to her office, slamming the door behind her, the vehemence of her tirade toward Clint reverberating in her head. Her hurt and anger were so intense that she shook with its force. She swung back toward the closed door, wanting desperately to throw something. Then feeling totally impotent, tears of frustration and defeat filled her hazel eyes.
Terri and Stacy sat in Terri’s office awaiting Mark and the accountant’s arrival.
Stacy took a sip of her coffee. “I just can’t believe that all of this was going on right under our noses.”
“Neither can I,” Terri replied, the soft lilt of her voice laden with regret.
Stacy shook her head just as Andrea peeked in the door.
“Ms. Powers, Mr. Pierce is here, and Mark just arrived. Should I buzz him?”
“Yes. But tell him to wait about ten minutes. Send Al in now.”
“Who gave you authorization to allocate all of this money, Al?” Terri demanded, tossing the stack of check releases across the conference table.
Al Pierce swallowed and adjusted his glasses. He made a small showing of reviewing the documents in front of him. “Why, you did,” he replied after several moments.
“In all of the years that we’ve been dealing with each other, when have I ever given you verbal instructions? Every transaction has been clearly written by me. Is that correct?”
“Yes. However, Mr. Andrews said that they were your instructions.” He fidgeted in his seat, uncomfortable under her steady gaze.
“How much was he paying you to maintain two sets of books, Mr. Pierce?” she quizzed, throwing him totally off guard.
“I…I don’t know what you mean,” he mumbled, raking a nervous hand through his thick gray hair. “Certainly you don’t think that—”
“Think what—that you and Mark were behind-the-scenes, undermining me for personal gain?” Her voice rose. “Is that what you think is on my mind?”
“Ms. Powers,” he stood abruptly. “I resent the implication.”
“Resent whatever you want, Al. You’re through! And if I have anything to do with it, the only things you’re ever going to add up again are cash-register receipts,” she spat. “Now get out of my sight and out of my office.”
Al Pierce gathered up his belongings. “If you think that I’m your only problem, then you have more of a problem than you can imagine.” He threw a cursory glance in Stacy’s direction and stalked out the door.
“What was that supposed to mean?” Stacy asked.
“I really don’t know. More than likely it was an idle comment.” But silently she wondered if it were that simple. She inhaled deeply. “Now for round two,” she said, her tone morose. “I think it would be best if I handled this one alone.” She crossed her arms with resolve.
“Are you sure?”
Terri nodded gloomily. “If I need you for anything, I’ll send Andrea for you.”
Stacy rose reluctantly and slowly approached Terri, who stood as if cast in stone. “Listen,” she began softly, “it all looks real bleak right now. But everything is going to work out.”
“Sure,” she whispered. “On your way out tell Andrea she can buzz Mark now.”
They stood facing each other like two gladiators waiting for the signal to attack.
“I’ve had the misfortune of going over your records,” Terri began, pacing her words evenly. “It’s amazing how yours are so different from mine,” she added with sarcasm. “You’ve tried to destroy me,” she said, her voice edged in granite. “No wonder you were so hell-bent on sealing the contract with Hightower. You needed the money to cover up what you’d done before I found out.”
“You brought it on yourself,” he tossed back in a malevolent tone that chilled her.
“What? You—with the help of Al Pierce—systematically set out to ruin this company. A company that I put together.” She counted off his misdeeds on her fingers. “You sabotaged contracts, made us lose potential deals, lined your own pockets and God knows what else. Then you have the gall to stand there and tell me that I brought it on myself! Do you hate me so much that you’d risk ruining this company and me as well as your own name in this industry?”
“Yes!” he shouted. “You’ll never know how much. You with your holier-than-thou attitude. The woman who could do no wrong. This is no more than what you deserve. I was the one left with the crumbs of your success.”
“Crumbs!” Her indignation came full circle. “You’ve always been a part of the success, Mark.”
He chuckled. “But it was always Terri this and Terri that,” he mimicked in a singsong voice. His face twisted into an ugly mask. “Terri Powers received the accolades, her name in the papers—not me.” He jabbed a finger at his chest, glowering at her.
“So that’s what it all boils down to, does it? You can’t stomach working with a woman who has made it.”
He looked away, clenching his jaw. “You’re not a woman. If you were, you could’ve kept your husband and your baby!”
His personal attack stabbed her. She fought for control as nausea threatened to overtake her. “Not the kind of woman you expected me to be,” she said smoothly, camouflaging her hurt. “I want you out of here within the hour. Security will oversee your departure.” She turned her back to him, her spine rigid.
Mark tossed her a hate-filled stare. “You’ve had your time to shine. I’ll guarantee you that I’ll have mine, as well.” He turned toward the door then stopped. “I was willing to risk anything to make you know how it feels to be forgotten. Now that you know everything,” he paused, “you won’t ever forget me again.” He stormed out of the office, leaving the door swinging on its hinges.
For several moments Terri stood in the tension-filled silence that permeated the air. Finally she let out a breath that she didn’t realize she’d held, and a tremor raced through her. She lowered her head, feeling weak and beaten.
She’d always prided herself on being fair to everyone. Or at least she’d thought so. How could she have not seen what was happening to Mark? She’d been so wrapped up in her own personal problems over the past months that she’d been blind to what was going on, allowing Mark free rein with the company. He’d used that trust against her.
His painful words rushed back at her, and her resentment and hurt resurfaced. No one could ever begin to imagine the pain and worthlessness that she’d felt. She’d shared her private hell with no one, and she wasn’t sure if she ever could.
But she could not let it immobilize her. She forced her body to move, her mind to work. She still had work to do. It was time that she reclaimed control of her life, for better or worse.
Snatching her coat from the rack and putting her purse under her arm, she walked purposefully out of the office, stopping briefly at Andrea’s desk.
“I’ll be away from the office for the balance of the day. Any problems, call Stacy. She’ll know what to do. Oh, and security will be escorting Mr. Andrews out of the building.”
“Yes, Ms. Powers.”
Terri stood in front of the elevator, her face resolute, her spirit determined. Her next stop was the offices of Hightower Enterprises.
Chapter 6
Clint had just hung up the phone when his secretary buzzed him on the intercom.
“Yes, Pat?”
“Mr. Steele, there’s a Ms. Powers here to see you.”
Clint’s heart stirred with excitement. “Send her right in.”
Quickly he stood up and put on his navy blue blazer and straightened his blue paisley tie. He approached the door just as Terri entered.
His full lips curved into an unconscious smile and widened in silent approval as he took in her regal, dark beauty. Her hair was swept away from her face, held in place by a wide headband, highlighting those large earthy brown eyes. The winter-white cashmere coat was flung open, revealing the flowing dress that gently brushed her curves.
He ached to take her in his arms, but his smile slowly dissolved when he saw the shadow of despair hovering in her eyes.
Immediately he crossed the room to where she stood, ready to do battle with whoever had crossed her.
“Terri, what is it?”
She took a deep breath. “May I sit down?”
“Sure.” He pulled up a high-back chair for her, one for himself and sat down in front of her, his arms braced on his muscled thighs as he leaned forward.
She looked across at him, hesitant at first, but then decided to plunge right in. “I fired Mark today, along with the accountant,” she said in a monotone.
Briefly Clint lowered his head, nodding in a way that let her know he understood. He looked up, his gaze holding hers. “I’ve had to fire my share of employees over the years, and it’s never easy, especially under these circumstances. You not only feel guilt, you feel betrayed,” he added softly.
Terri felt the weight slowly ease from her chest. She didn’t realize until that moment how much she needed him to understand and not see her as weak and ineffectual.
“I take it Mark was the man behind-the-scenes all along?”
Terri nodded, a feeling of humiliation whipping through her, but her face remained resolute.
Clint easily saw through the facade of control. Once again he felt the overpowering need to take her in his arms, to protect her. But he sensed that wasn’t what she needed or would accept. At least not now. That was one thing he was gradually learning about her—she did things in her own way, in her own time, without fanfare.
“Is there anything that I can do?”
She looked across at him, a weak smile tugging at her polished lips. “You could accept my apology.”
His thick brows knitted. “Apology? For what?”
“For misjudging you. For doubting your sincerity. It’s not like me to doubt people.”
“Don’t lose that part of yourself, Terri,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “That’s what makes you the wonderful woman that you are.”
She looked away as though searching for words, then chuckled mirthlessly. “That’s part of my problem. Being too trusting at the wrong times.” She sighed deeply and Clint waited, knowing that she needed this time to come to a decision. One that would change the direction of their relationship. Then, as if a dam had sprung a leak, she slowly began to reveal bits and pieces of her failed marriage, her retreat from relationships as a result of Alan’s infidelities and her recent revelations about Clint.
The one thing that she left out was the loss of her baby, Clint noticed, a subject that must still be too painful to discuss. In time, he thought. In time. For now, he would treasure this small gift of trust that she’d given him.
“…I was so wrong about so many things, Clint. And I always believed myself to be a fair-minded person. I let my own personal prejudices overshadow practical good sense.” Her eyes leveled with his. “That was unfair to you. And when I did trust someone, it was the wrong person.”
Warily Clint reached over and placed his hand on top of hers, and Terri swore that if he said anything sweet she would burst into tears.
“Thank you for that,” he said, his voice a silken caress. “Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me. Just don’t blame yourself. You had every reason to believe the things you did about Mark and about me.”
“That doesn’t excuse my behavior.” She looked away, then turned to face him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What?” He knew what she was fishing for but refused to rise to the bait.
“About what you really do? Why do you allow the papers to print such trash about you? They have you portrayed as this vulture that would walk over anyone to get what he wants. They never print the positive results of your business endeavors and the good that you do for struggling black businesses. It’s despicable.”
Clint lowered his head, then looked across at her. He shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose I want to keep that part of my life private. My reputation as a hard-nosed businessman has allowed me the financial flexibility to make those contributions. Let the public think what they want about me. Inside—” he pointed a finger at his chest “—I know what I’m about. That’s what’s important.”
Terri nodded in understanding, pressed her lips together and slowly rose. She felt totally vulnerable now, having shared some of her darkest moments and being witness to a side of Clint that she’d believed could not exist. The combination of new emotions crumbled her fragile sensibilities. She began to question her sudden spontaneity with him, realizing that it was brought on in a moment of weakness. Instinctively her defenses locked into place and she turned the subject to neutral ground. “My main concern right now is getting the company back on solid financial footing. I owe that to my staff.”
Clint stood in front of her, catching a delicious whiff of her scent. He looked down into her upturned face. “How bad are things?”
Her smile was empty. “Bad enough.”
“Listen, I could loan the company enough funds to get you over the hump.”
Terri vehemently shook her ebony head, her locks swinging behind her. “No way. I got myself into this mess. I’ll get myself out.” Her voice softened, and her fingers splayed and stroked his arm. “But thank you. I appreciate the gesture.”
He nodded and his admiration for her grew.
Terri pulled her coat around her and picked up her purse. “We’re pretty close to clinching a deal with Viatek Studios. I feel very confident about it.”
“I’m sure it will work out.” His smile embraced her as he took a cautious step closer. “With you behind it, Viatek should consider themselves lucky.”
She didn’t trust herself to speak, feeling the heat of his nearness engulfing her. Instead, she eased away and moved toward the door.
Clint checked his watch. “Can I take you to lunch?”
“I’m sorry. I’ve got some things to take care of and I’m meeting a friend in about an hour. Maybe another time?” Her question was hopeful.
“I’ll call you—soon.”
She smiled. “All right. Goodbye, Clint.” She turned to leave.
Clint’s voice held her in place. “Terri.” She looked up at him, expectantly. “I’m glad that everything is out in the open. I hope that we can move on from here.”
She nodded in silent agreement.
But even as he said the words, the ache of his own hidden pain and buried truths burned his guilty conscience. He needed so desperately to open the doors to the feelings that raged within him. It had been so long since he’d shared the deepest part of himself with anyone. He wasn’t sure if he still knew how. For now, all he could do was watch her walk away.
Terri picked up her glass of sparkling cider and took a sip.
“So what are your plans for the company?” Lisa asked over lunch. In all of the ten years that she’d known Terri, she’d never seen her so distraught. Terri was one of the most decent people that Lisa knew and the best friend she’d ever had. Terri was the last person who deserved the things that happened to her.
Terri took a deep breath, twirling the delicate glass between her fingers. “Well, the first thing is a total review of all of the files and a revamping of the staff. Stacy will take over Mark’s responsibilities as of tomorrow. I plan to make an announcement in the morning. And of course I’ll have to hire a new accountant.” She gave a halfhearted grin.
Lisa nodded as she took a forkful of sautéed shrimp. “About Mark,” she began slowly, “do you plan to press charges?”
Terri tossed the salad in her plate. “I thought about it, Lisa.” She sighed. “But what’s the point? Mark has dug his own ditch. Word travels fast in our circles. He’ll never be trusted again. He’s finished. That’s enough punishment.”
Lisa was unconvinced. “If you want my opinion, I’d say to press charges against the crummy bastard. Cutting him out of the club isn’t enough,” she added vehemently.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Lisa doubted that Terri would have a change of heart. Terri may not have been good in displaying her feelings, but she never wanted to see anyone hurt, no matter what they may have done to her. Terri kept her feelings bottled up inside, and Lisa didn’t know what, or who, would ever make her change.
“So what’s the progress with the advertising campaign for Viatek Studios—moving on to a more pleasant topic?”
“I’m positive we’ll pull this off. If we do get it, I’ll have to go to L.A.”
“You don’t sound too enthusiastic about the possibility.” Lisa took another mouthful of her shrimp, her gaze full of question.
Terri hesitated a moment. “I was informed that Alan is being considered as the photographer.” She had painstakingly tried to keep Alan in the recesses of her mind. She and Lisa had agreed after the divorce that any mention of Alan was taboo, and she regretted that the door was pried open once again.
The fork stopped midway between Lisa’s mouth and the plate. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were.”
“Can’t Stacy handle this one?”
Terri shook her head. “No. Not really. Something this big I’d be required to deal with. There are contracts involved, and Stacy is not experienced enough in that area yet.”
“So how does Alan fit in? He’s not part of your package. You have your own photographer.”
“I know. But Viatek has him as a subcontractor. He’s worked with them before. And it seems that he’s made quite a name for himself in L.A.”
When was this woman gonna get a break? Lisa swore under her breath but gauged her words carefully.
“I know this may not be much of a consolation, but you’ve moved on with your life, Tee, and I’m sure that Alan’s moved on with his.”
“I’m sure he has,” Terri said, her voice dripping with sar casm. “Alan was always good for taking a situation and working it to his advantage…with someone.”
Lisa took a deep breath. “Terri, what happened between you and Alan is a part of the past. There’s no point in beating yourself to death about it because it didn’t work out.” Lisa cringed, remembering the countless warnings she had given Terri before she married Alan. He was a womanizer and as selfish as they came. But Lisa would never add salt to Terri’s still-open wounds by saying, “I told you so.” She had enough heartache to deal with.
“It didn’t work out because of me,” Terri said sadly. “Maybe if I’d been able to see past my own life and open up to accepting Alan completely in it, we’d be together today. And he wouldn’t have had to go searching for what I couldn’t give him.”
“Don’t be absurd! Alan was the consummate playboy, before and after you married him.”
Lisa’s temper rose as she fought to control the irritation that lifted her voice. She’d never told Terri that Alan had tried to make a play for her, too. That would have been too devastating for Terri to handle. She’d dealt with Alan herself, in no uncertain terms. She had the connections to cut the cords of his success with just one phone call. And she made sure that he knew it. It was months before he would even stay in the same room with her for more than a minute.
“My God, Terri, he had a part in it, too. A big part.”
Lisa saw the veil of hurt descend over Terri’s eyes.
“Listen, I’m sorry if I sound callous, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself. I’m your friend, and I’d do anything in the world for you. I can’t sit quietly by and see you tear yourself apart—especially over an SOB like Alan Martin.”
Lisa reached across the table and took Terri’s hand. Her voice lowered to a soothing whisper. “You’re a wonderful person and when the time is right, that special someone is going to see it. Believe me.”
Terri tried to absorb the veracity of Lisa’s words. She knew Lisa was right. Alan was a bastard. But she’d loved and trusted him. She’d almost had his child. That wasn’t something that you could just forget because someone told you so. Over time it had gotten easier, she had to admit. And maybe a special someone would be there to help her forget completely. A secret place in her heart hoped that the someone would be Clint.
Moments of silence passed with both women absorbed in their own private thoughts. Lisa desperately wanted to share the news of her recently discovered pregnancy with Terri, but deep inside she felt that the news would only add to Terri’s misery rather than make her happy for her friend. She’d discussed it with her husband, Brian, and he’d advised against telling Terri, at least right away. Reluctantly Lisa had agreed. This was the first time in the ten years that she and Terri had been friends that she kept something this special from her. The feeling left her empty and a little melancholy. She searched for something to say to ease the tension-filled silence.
“Were you able to use the information I gave you on Clinton Steele?” Lisa asked finally. She instantly noticed the faraway look that passed across Terri’s face and the faint smile that tugged at her lips. Interesting.
“Yes. Thanks,” Terri said softly.
Lisa’s brown eyes creased into a taunt as she leaned forward and ran a hand through her mop of auburn curls. “Come on, tell…tell.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Don’t give me that. I’d know that little smirk of yours any day. So?”
“All right, all right. Just don’t beg,” Terri teased, itching to tell her friend about Clint.
She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She began slowly. “Well, at first, I had real misgivings about him. Everything that I had ever heard or read was negative. Hightower Enterprises was notorious for buying up smaller companies, and that’s how he built his fortune—along with very wise investments in the stock market and profits from the companies.” She laughed a self-deprecating laugh. “Little did I know that Mr. Steele never took control of the companies, but helped to rebuild them for the owners. And when they were back on solid ground, Clint turned the reins back to the original owners if they decided that they wanted them. A lot of them didn’t, of course, preferring to put that part of their lives behind them—”
“It’s a shame,” Lisa interjected, “that the media never tells that part of the story. They only publicize the buyouts, but not the positive end results. If you hadn’t asked me to investigate him, I wouldn’t have known myself. He actually started out as a runner on Wall Street. He’s a remarkable man, Terri. Huge amounts of his profits go to the black colleges, universities and community organizations.”
“I know. The worst part is that I fell right into step with the bad press, eating up every word. And he never said a thing to me. He just let me believe those things about him, too proud to tell me anything different. He said he preferred to keep that side of his life private.” Terri sucked on her bottom lip, disappointed in herself.
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Donna Hill
Is love worth the risk…An unhappy marriage taught Terri Powers never to trust again. Instead, she put all her energy into developing her inner strength and independence–creating the successful New York advertising agency she'd always dreamed of. Then she meets handsome, strong-willed businessman Clinton Steele. Try as she might, Terri can't fight the sensual attraction between them–or the desperate hunger that fires her deepest passions……when everything is at stake?Neither Terri nor Clinton can ever imagine just how much is at risk. But when a stranger appears from Terri's forgotten past who calls himself a friend–his deception could destroy everything Terri has fought so hard to build. Now two wary hearts have to persevere, as long-buried secrets put Terri and Clinton's love to the most perilous test of all…
Deception
Deception
Donna Hill
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This novel is dedicated in loving memory of my
grandmothers: Clotilda Braithwaite and Mary Hill.
You both are always with me.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
Prologue
Oh what a tangled web we weave,
when first we practice to deceive.
—Sir Walter Scott, Marmion
(1808) stanza 17
“Just stay calm. Getting all worked up isn’t going to solve anything,” Terri muttered to her reflection as she partially wrapped her shoulder-length dreadlocks atop her head. Cool brown eyes stared back at her, revealing none of the turmoil that had precipitated her three-month leave of absence from her self-named corporation.
To look at thirty-year-old Terri Powers, no one would imagine what the past two years had done to her. Her New York–based public relations and advertising company had skyrocketed since its inception five years ago. With a minimal staff she had almost carried the company single-handedly. Because of that, she would always blame herself for the miscarriage of her baby. That trauma was compounded by the disintegration of her four-year marriage to photographer Alan Martin.
She took a breath and slipped long silver earrings into her lobes. The reality was, her marriage to the flamboyant Alan Martin was over long before the divorce. She’d just been unwilling to see it. She and Alan were a disaster waiting to happen. Even now she questioned her attraction to him. She’d been young, eager for love and eager to have someone love her back. She had been captivated by his charm, his vision and exuberance. His looks and his blatant sexuality only added to the total facade. So much so that she overlooked and made excuses for his flaws—which, she finally had to admit, were too numerous to mention. Her collapsed marriage she’d begun to deal with. The loss of her baby was something else entirely. A topic which she did not discuss with anyone. Losing her baby had resurrected too many painful memories, and her hopes for a family of her own had died with her child. Although her losses were more than a year behind her, the aftereffects had finally taken their toll and drained her spirit over the months. Pretending that everything was wonderful and right with the world took all that she had left, she thought sardonically.
It was to that end that she’d hired her vice president, Mark Andrews, at a time when her world seemed to be slipping beneath her feet. His résumé was outstanding. He was charming, had a razor-sharp mind, was exceedingly good-looking and had brilliant ideas for company growth. The fact that he vaguely struck some familiar chord within her only endeared him all the more to her.
Over time, she’d given Mark more and more responsibility as the events of her life and the pressures of the job slowly overwhelmed her. Terri finally realized that for her own good and the good of the company, she needed to take a break. Now it was time to go back and reclaim the reins.
Terri frowned as she lightly coated her bow-shaped lips with a soft orange lipstick. Mark had crossed the line and deliberately ignored her instructions. If it hadn’t been for her director of promotions, Stacy Williams, informing her of Mark’s activities, the whole deal would have gone down without her knowledge or consent.
As things stood now, her company was in the midst of negotiations with a man that she wouldn’t give the time of day. Clinton Steele. Everything that she’d ever read about the man set her teeth on edge. He was in the business of buying small African-American companies on the verge of collapse and turning them around for his own profit. From everything that she’d read, he paid the owners nothing near what the companies were worth. He called himself a businessman. Humph! She considered him nothing more than a predator—one whom she would have nothing to do with. To think that he wanted her company to run an ad campaign for him had her head spinning.
Terri strutted down the short foyer and slipped into her heels. Wouldn’t they be surprised to see her returning to work three weeks earlier than scheduled. She smiled. If Mark Andrews and Clinton Steele thought that they would be dealing with the Terri who was haunted by her past, they were wrong. This was Terri Powers—new and improved, rested and rejuvenated. And someone had a lot of answering to do.
Chapter 1
“Good afternoon, gentlemen.”
Sultry was the only word that stroked all of Clint’s senses when the distinctly feminine voice, coated with just a hint of a Caribbean accent, pervaded the low rumble of male conversation.
“Terri.” Her vice president, Mark Andrews, looked up and rose in greeting, as did his client Clinton Steele. “We were just going over Mr. Steele’s proposal,” Mark added, slipping back into his discarded charcoal-gray suit jacket, in an effort to camouflage his surprise at her unannounced return.
Terri stood in the doorway, taking the moment to assess the man who towered head and shoulders above the six-foot-tall Mark, and was in sharp contrast to Mark’s light cocoa complexion.
Clinton Steele’s reputation preceded him, and from all appearances he confirmed Terri’s image—from the expensive tailor-made suit to the formidable persona. But maybe it was those eyes. They seemed to have a way of mesmerizing you, she thought, feeling herself pulled into the bottomless inky pools that seemed to dance with dangerous lights. But then a flicker of something deeper flashed through those coal-black orbs. An involuntary shudder ran up her spine. Then just as quickly the look was gone and replaced with what Terri believed to be condescension.
She’d seen that look before. Most men were either intimidated or mystified by her ethnic appearance, as though she either withheld or could unlock some great ancestral secret. Her shoulders straightened as she walked into the room.
Clint was immediately taken aback by the quiet power Terri exuded. Her shoulder-length, glistening ebony dreadlocks were not what he perceived to be the coiffure of the cosmopolitan woman. Rather hers was the image of a woman awakened to their nubian ancestry and determined to flaunt it in the most exotic of displays. Her obvious sense of cultural pride intrigued, yet put him off, his own sense of roots having been buried beneath years of equal-opportunity rhetoric, stirring only periodically into the light.
The instant observation, combined with her cool appraisal of him, rubbed him the wrong way and nudged him off balance. His thick lashes lowered to shield his eyes, and his jaw involuntarily tightened.
Mark moved from around the table and stood between Terri and Clint, breaking through the tension-filled silence.
“Terri Powers, this is Clinton Steele, CEO of Hightower Enterprises.”
Clint stretched out his large hand and enveloped Terri’s petite one.
“Mr. Steele,” Terri responded with a slight incline of her head, observing his perfectly clipped nails.
For one crazy moment Clint wanted to say, “Your Majesty,” and he knew that if he opened his mouth, he’d say something equally ridiculous.
As a result he held her hand a moment longer than necessary, and Terri felt the tingling warmth spread through her fingers and glide up her arm. The sensation nearly caused her to snatch her hand away, but her inherent good manners interceded. Slowly she removed her hand, letting it fall casually to her side.
Terri raised her eyes to meet Clint’s, and he quickly discovered that they were a fascinating shade of brown that seemed to darken or brighten with the play of light from the window.
“I’ll leave the two of you to get acquainted,” Mark interjected into the torrid air. “I’ll be back shortly, and we can go over the details.” He quickly exited the office, leaving Terri and Clint to face each other.
“I understand that we have business to discuss,” Terri said, her low melodic voice again caressing him.
He watched her graceful movements as she moved to a leather chair at the head of the long oak conference table. Her sheath of golden linen barely shadowed the curves beneath, Clint realized with a twinge in his loins. He took a seat to Terri’s right.
“Mark has informed me that you’re interested in using our advertising services to promote your…new cable stations, Mr. Steele.” She folded her hands in front of her.
Did he detect a note of sarcasm in her voice or was it just his imagination? “That’s right.” He rubbed a hand across his bearded chin. “Your agency comes highly recommended from everyone here in New York. And from all that Mark has told me so far, I believe Powers Incorporated will do an excellent job.”
Clint leaned back in his seat and boldly surveyed her sculpted mahogany features, letting his eyes drift down her long neck to the tempting V in the front of her dress.
Terri felt a hot flush spread throughout her body from the intensity of Clint’s appraisal. But she would not let his daring looks distract her.
“I’m sure that Mark also told you that I’ve been out—” she swallowed back the memories “—away for the past three months?” She raised a naturally arched eyebrow in question.
Yes, and what happened to cause that haunted look in your eyes? “He mentioned it.”
Why did his voice seem to pump through her like an overactive pulse? “I’m sure what he didn’t tell you, Mr. Steele, is that I have very firm beliefs about who I do business with.”
The hairs on the back of Clint’s neck began to tingle. “Don’t we all?”
“In other words, Mr. Steele, I would appreciate it if you took your business elsewhere.”
Clint’s eyes creased into two dark slits. He leaned dangerously forward and the scent of his cologne raced to Terri’s brain, quickening her heartbeat.
His voice lowered to a deep rumble. “Let me get this straight. I’ve been working my butt off in negotiations with your partner—” he pointed an accusing finger at Terri “—and now you’re gonna tell me you don’t want my business?”
Pure unadulterated anger flared in his black eyes and hardened the velvet voice. “What in the hell is going on around here? Is this some kind of game?”
“Had I been here, Mr. Steele,” Terri answered calmly, not intimidated by the vehemence in his voice, “these talks would not have gone beyond the first phone call. Mr. Andrews is well aware of my policies. I’m sure that his…oversight was not intentional. However, my decision stands.”
Terri rose regally from her seat, and Clint had the overwhelming sensation of being dismissed like a common errand boy by this very self-centered, arrogant—
“I’m sorry,” Terri said gently, the soft sincerity of those two simple words mysteriously calming his fury. “I’m sure that this inexcusable situation has cost you a great deal of time and energy. I only wish that I could offer more than an apology.”
Why did even her refusal sound so pleasant to his ear? “Have you at least looked over the proposal?” Clint found himself inexplicably yearning for her approval. The revelation pissed him off, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I’m certain that it will be a great campaign.”
“I have looked it over. However, there’s—”
“Is it money? You don’t think it’s adequate?” Now she was annoyed. Why did they all think that money was the answer to everything? What about integrity?
“This has nothing to do with money,” Terri answered, forcing a steady calm into her voice. “It wouldn’t matter if your offer were ten times the amount. It’s you, Mr. Steele, that I have the problem with. You and your business practices. I cannot in good conscience allow this company to be associated with Hightower Enterprises.”
Clint felt as if all the wind had been kicked out of him. All of his work, his sacrifices, his dreams and accomplishments, came to a grinding halt with just those few callous words. Did she have any idea what he’d been through…did she…? Slowly he shook his head. Of course she didn’t. No one did. That was the way he’d wanted things. Now, for the first time, he was paying for that choice.
Clint rose from his seat, looking at her with a mixture of regret—that she’d fallen prey to the things that had been said about him—and disappointment. He’d begun to look forward to working with this tempting woman against all of his reservations.
Terri held her breath as Clint’s powerful body rose and spread before her. His dark blue suit fit the massive shoulders and long, muscular legs to exquisite perfection. She dared to steal a glance at the short wavy black hair that capped his proud head. For one dizzying moment she wondered what it would feel like to run her hands across it.
Had this been any other time…other circumstances…maybe… But she still had wounds to heal, emotions to mend, and unfortunately the darkly handsome Clinton Steele represented everything that she had grown to resent.
Terri extended her hand and the warmth of his grip shot through her again. Steadily her eyes held his.
“Perhaps my director of promotions, Stacy Williams, can give you some referrals, Mr. Steele. I could—”
“Believe me, you’ve done enough already.” He shook his head, looked at her from beneath silken lashes, a sheepish grin tipping his lips. “I mean, I’m sure that I can find another agency.”
Terri nodded her head and made a move to turn away. Clint’s intentionally intimate tone stopped her.
“Regardless of what you may think of me, Ms. Powers, I still feel that you’re the…that your agency is the best one for the job. If we can’t be business associates, at least let’s be friends. You can call me Clint.”
The radiance of his smile washed over her like morning sunshine. Her heart thumped.
“Thank you for the compliment. However, in reference to your last statement, I must apologize again. Our association ends here, Mr. Steele. Good day.”
She turned and walked from the office, leaving a fuming Clint and the heady scent of her kush body oil lingering behind.
Stepping out into the corridor, she forced her breathing to slow down to normal. What had happened to her in there? Taking a deep breath, she continued down the hallway, just as Mark left his office, to the conference room. Terri stopped short.
A feeling of disaster spread through Mark. “How did it go? I think this is one great deal, Terri,” he said a bit too enthusiastically.
Terri glared at him. “We’ll talk later. Right now I think you’d better soothe Mr. Steele’s ruffled feathers. There’s no deal, Mark. Understood? When you’re through, I’ll see you in my office.”
She turned on her heel, leaving Mark to throw daggers at her back. She’d screwed him. Dammit!
Quickly Mark made his way down the hallway and rushed into the room just as Clint was putting the last of his notes in his briefcase.
“Clint,” Mark began apologetically, spreading his hands in a plea. “I had no idea that she was going to react this way. I can assure you that everything was set,” he lied. Actually, he had no idea that she would return to work three weeks early. He’d planned to have this deal signed and sealed before she returned.
Clint threw him a glowering look over his shoulder.
“I just need some time to talk with her,” Mark added. “I’m sure I can get her to—”
Clint turned to Mark. “I don’t beg for anything, Andrews. Boss lady has her reasons—fine. The hell with her. You should have known better than to waste my time.”
“Listen, Clint,” Mark implored, grasping at straws, “Terri’s just being difficult. She’s probably on a hate-all-men campaign. She’s recently divorced, and she lost her baby. Today’s her first day…”
Mark’s voice droned on as Clint absorbed the implications of what was being said. My God, what she’d been through was enough to floor anyone. Yet she’d stood there resolute and determined, only once letting emotion seep through that picture-perfect demeanor. His defenses weakened. How could you not admire a woman like that? He felt that he understood her. He knew all too well about pain and loss. That part of him wanted to soothe away the hurt that still lingered behind those mysterious brown eyes.
The snap of Clint’s voice cut off Mark’s litany.
“Try to see if you can get Ms. Powers to change her mind, and keep me posted.”
Mark hid his surprise behind a wall of conversation. “I won’t disappoint you, Clint. This deal is important to me, too.” You just don’t know how much.
Mark’s calculating mind went into overdrive. He’d have to pull this off and soon, or… No. He refused to think about the possibilities.
“Will you be attending the reception tonight at Tavern on the Green for the producers?” Mark asked.
Clint picked up his briefcase. “I hadn’t planned to. Why?”
“Well, I’ll talk to Terri again. I’ll be escorting her tonight. Maybe she’ll be in a more receptive frame of mind,” he concluded, giving Clint a sly grin.
Clint pursed his lips, considering what Mark had said. He generally shied away from formal affairs, believing them to be frivolous. But if it gave him the chance to see Terri again, he’d make an exception.
“I never confirmed my invitation,” Clint said slowly, “but I don’t think it should be a problem.”
“Great. So I’ll see you tonight.”
Clint reluctantly shook Mark’s hand and strode purposefully from the conference room.
There was one thing that bugged Clint more than anything else—a brownnose. And Mark Andrews fit the bill, he thought, as he waited for the elevator. But there was something else about Mark that disturbed him. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. At least not yet. But he would. Maybe he’d just let Steve check him out.
Terri plopped down onto the overstuffed, cream-colored couch that stood against the far wall of her office. Waves of apprehension swept through her. She wasn’t sure if what she was feeling was the stress of first-day jitters or the eruption of buried feelings that Clinton Steele had inadvertently dug up.
Adrenaline pumped through her limbs, forcing her body into action. She sprang up from her seat and paced the floor, crossing and recrossing the earth-toned-print area rug covering the parquet floor. Absently she stroked the polished wooden artwork and the array of greenery that adorned strategic locations throughout the tropiclike office. Clinton Steel disturbed her. There was no other word for it. Without effort, he’d made her think and feel things that she’d promised herself she’d never fall prey to again. Her husband, Alan, had been enough.
Terri shut her eyes and wrapped her slender arms around her waist as if to ward off some unseen attacker, momentarily reliving the months of agony. The knocking on her office door jarred her back to the present.
She spun toward the door, blinking back the visions to focus on Mark standing in the doorway.
She cleared her throat. “Mark. Come in.” She took a seat behind her desk.
“I think you’re making a big mistake here, Terri,” Mark began as he crossed the room and sat down, handing her a stack of documents to be signed.
She gave them a cursory glance and turned her attention back to Mark. “You know perfectly well how I feel about Hightower Enterprises.”
“Your opinion is archaic!” he snapped. “You left me in charge, and I’ve been doing a damn good job of running things around here. At least give me the courtesy of believing that I know what I’m doing. Do you honestly think that you can get anywhere in this world being a Goody Two-shoes? Be for real, Terri.”
Slowly she rose from her seat, her anger shielded behind her veil of serenity.
“You seem to have forgotten that this company is where it is today because we have values—whether you believe them to be legitimate or not.” Her eyes locked onto him.
Mark heaved a sigh and ran a finger around his shirt collar. Alienating her was not the answer. “Listen,” he said, forcing calm into his voice, “at least think about it. Three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at. Maybe this one time we could make an exception.”
“I doubt it. But I will give the proposal the benefit of another look.”
Mark’s hopes lifted. “That’s all I ask.” He headed for the door, then paused. “Do you still want me to pick you up this evening?”
“What? Oh, I’d almost forgotten. Yes, thanks. Is eight o’clock good?”
“I’ll be there,” he said, opening the door.
Watching his hasty departure, Terri realized that something was very wrong.
The swish of Terri’s black satin-and-chiffon gown blended delicately with the soft music and laughter that wafted from the ballroom.
Mark, clad in an elegant-fitting tuxedo, dutifully took Terri’s elbow and escorted her down the carpeted corridor of Tavern on the Green. Stopping briefly to check Terri’s stole, there were many who gave them a second look as the two made their way down the hall.
Bowing his close-cropped curly head, Mark whispered in Terri’s diamond-studded ear, “Are you ready for your grand entrance?”
“No way,” she whispered back as they neared the open ballroom. “And don’t you dare leave me, Mark Andrews,” she threatened. “You know how self-conscious I get in crowds. You’re going to take your share of wet kisses and damp handshakes like a man,” she teased.
“Thanks, I can’t wait,” he answered drolly, rubbing his index finger across his mustache.
At the entrance Terri was awestruck and took a moment to absorb the magnificence of the glittering room. Crystal chandeliers, lit by hundreds of candles, gave the room a dramatic, effervescent shimmer. The round dinner tables were covered with gold linen tablecloths, and crystal goblets stood as the centerpieces. The enormous buffet table was laden with every delicacy imaginable, the aromas taunting the senses.
The main ballroom opened out onto two huge rooms that led to enclosed balconies, giving a sweeping view of New York City. Complementing it all was the array of designer gowns and tuxedos that moved with the wearers like a second skin.
Mark felt Terri momentarily stiffen as the patrons turned to look at them as they stood in the archway. He gave the hand that held his arm an encouraging pat.
“Are you ready?”
Terri gave a tiny nod. Taking deep breaths and putting on their best smiles, they made their entrance.
Within moments Terri was separated from Mark and swept up in a flurry of greetings. Between hugs, handshakes and rapid-fire conversation, Terri tried to peer over the sea of heads to locate Mark.
Finally she spotted him on the far side of the crowded ballroom, apparently in deep conversation with a striking-looking woman.
With her hopes of imminent rescue dashed, she continued to make conversation and field questions about her next endeavor.
“So, what’s next, Ms. Powers?” asked Gordon Burke of Columbia Studios.
“This current project with the McPhearson Group and the networks will take up a great deal of time and energy,” Terri confessed. “But I do have some proposals that have been submitted for our consideration.”
“Would you care to elaborate?” asked a reporter from the Times.
“I don’t think that would be fair to my prospective clients,” she said, flashing an indulgent smile. She knew when she was being put on the spot, and her standard response was always a sure out.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Mark was finally standing alone. Seeing a way out from the probing questions, she made her excuses.
“If you all will excuse me—” she lifted her chin in the direction of Mark “—I see my partner over there.” She made her getaway, breathing a sigh of relief.
Shaking a few hands and giving smiles of acknowledgment along the way, she eventually made it across the packed room, only to be greeted by a look of pure enjoyment from Mark.
“You think this is all very funny, don’t you?” Terri asked, twisting her full lips.
Mark smiled broadly. “Why, of course. Where else could a single man have the opportunity to be entertained by so many fabulous single women?”
“You are behaving yourself, aren’t you, Mark Andrews?” she warned with a sparkle in her nut-brown eyes.
“That all depends on what you mean by behaving.” He grinned and took a sip from his wineglass and wondered where Clint was.
Terri tapped Mark playfully on the arm while walking around him to the buffet table.
On the far side of the room, Clint made his entrance, accompanied by his vice president, Melissa Taylor. His six-foot-plus height cut an exquisite figure, bedecked in a black Armani tuxedo.
His arrival instantly caught Terri’s attention, and an inexplicable heat rushed through her body. Her eyes were drawn to him like a magnet, totally oblivious to the shimmering female form that stood at his side. Terri quickly looked away. When she furtively looked back in his direction, she was shocked, yet thrilled, to find that his eyes were locked on her, openly assessing her, even as his stunning companion clung possessively to his arm.
He gave an almost unnoticeable nod of acknowledgment in her direction.
Flustered by the intensity of his stare, she nodded back and silently prayed that she wouldn’t humiliate herself by dropping her food all over the thick carpet.
Holding on tightly to her plate, and with as much grace as she could summon, she walked across the room to her table, not daring to look back. Yet somehow she felt those warm eyes burning through her exposed back.
Clint had zeroed in on Terri almost immediately, and he couldn’t help but admire the way the black gown seemed to float over her slender body. Or how her deep brown skin glowed radiantly, tantalizing the viewer with teasing peeks of bare flesh as the dress flowed with her movements.
He had an almost uncontrollable desire to run his fingers through the locks of ebony hair that she’d wrapped magnificently on top of her head. Unconsciously he squeezed his companion’s arm to stifle the urge to touch her. There was no way that he could deny the instantaneous attraction he felt toward Terri. The powerful sensation unnerved him. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known. He’d always been attracted to women like his wife, Desiree. Women who were needy, women who… Desiree was dead, he reminded himself. And it was his fault.
“Is something wrong?” Melissa asked, sensing the change in Clint’s mood.
“No. Nothing’s wrong,” he answered offhandedly, as they moved into the center of the room.
Melissa cut her eyes across the room to where Clint’s gaze rested, then back to him in time to catch the look of longing in his eyes. “Why don’t we find a table and get something to eat? I’m starved,” Melissa said, a bit put off.
“You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you later. There are a few old friends that I want to speak with first.”
He gently eased her arm from his and crossed the floor, quickly engaging himself in a group discussion before she had a chance to protest.
For several moments Melissa stood alone, disappointed. Her hope of spending an elegant evening with Clint dissolved. But it was rare that she allowed her true feelings to show. And right now she needed something to soothe her injured ego. Putting on a practiced smile, she straightened her bare shoulders and began to do what was second nature—making men’s heads turn.
Terri made a valiant effort to focus on the food in front of her while keeping up with the conversations of the movie executives that flowed abundantly. But her mind kept wandering back to Clint. What was he doing here? She dared not ask her dining companions, knowing that her true interests would be obvious. Perhaps she would have a chance to find out before—
“Would you care to dance?”
The rich rumble of the voice seemed to shimmer down her spine and arrest her heart. Instinctively she knew it was him and was almost afraid to look up. But the large warm hand gently held her shoulder, and a surge of heat swam to her head, clouding her judgment.
She turned to look up at him and the most devastating smile assaulted her, causing her breath to catch in her throat.
Terri felt hypnotized by the intensity of his dark, heated gaze. She didn’t know whether or not she had even answered him before she was gently eased onto the dance floor. In a matter of seconds her body was pressed next to his as he artfully moved with the slow, pulsing music of the band.
The scent of his cologne enveloped her senses, and she felt an overwhelming urge to snuggle closer to the hard lines of his broad frame. Their bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, like pieces of a puzzle, each dip and curve matching the other, she mused. How long had it been since she’d been held in a man’s arms?
Why did she have to feel so good? Clint wondered, his mind running in circles as he held her slender waist in one hand. He wanted to pull her fully against him, but dared not. He was sure that his untimely arousal would be evident.
The music drew to a conclusion, but he continued to hold her, searching for something to say, not yet ready to let her go.
She looked inquisitively up at him, a tentative smile lighting her face.
Finally he found his voice. “Can I get you something from the bar?”
“A glass of tonic water with lime would be perfect.”
The melodic cadence of her voice floated to his ears. It almost didn’t matter what she said as long as she would continue talking.
He placed his hand on the small of her back and ushered her toward the bar. “Two tonic waters with lime,” he instructed the bartender, his eyes never leaving Terri’s face.
Clint handed her the glass. “So we meet again,” he stated, his eyes boring into hers.
“I wasn’t aware that you would be attending.”
“It was a last-minute decision.” He took a sip of his drink, and his voice dipped intimately. “You look fabulous.”
Terri lowered her eyes at the unabashed compliment.
“I hope there won’t be any acceptance speeches tonight,” he added, rescuing her from her apparent uneasiness.
“No,” she breathed, thankful for the change in topic, “not tonight. This is more of a who’s-who gathering than anything else, Mr. Steele.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “My friends call me Clint. I wish you would.”
“You seem to have a lot of those,” she commented.
He grinned slyly, his eyebrow lifting. “I didn’t think you noticed.”
A hot flush of embarrassment seared her cheeks.
“Don’t be uncomfortable,” he said smoothly, as though reading her mind. “I’ve been watching you, too.” His eyes trailed over her curvaceous form, and she felt her heart begin to race.
“So where is your escort—boyfriend…husband?” he probed in the hope that she would reveal or confirm what Mark had said.
Terri smiled, melting Clint’s heart. “Sorry, none of the above. I came with Mark, who seems to have vanished. What about you? I thought I saw you with someone earlier.”
He knew good and well that she saw him, but he was more than happy to play along. At least there were no stray boyfriends or husbands to contend with. “That was my business associate, Melissa Taylor, who seems to have made quite an impression on Mark.”
Terri followed Clint’s gaze across the room to see Mark and Melissa laughing intimately.
“Mark does have a way with women,” she stated, a wry smile tilting her lips.
“Let’s dance,” Clint suggested in a low, urgent voice, taking her hand before she could deny him.
“I catch a faint accent in your voice,” Clint whispered in her ear as they moved easily across the dance floor. “It’s absolutely delicious.”
Terri’s pulse fluttered. “Barbados,” she answered softly.
“Hmm,” he hummed into her hair. “Don’t ever lose it.”
The hours seemed to float away as Terri and Clint became enamored of each other’s company. They talked of the places that they had traveled, the current economy and its effects on business. But whenever Terri directed questions to Clint about his line of work, he was subtly evasive.
“Let’s not talk about work.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Not tonight. I’d rather hear about you.”
“There’s really not that much to tell,” she breathed as they walked side by side out to the balcony. “I came to the States when I was eight. I went to New York University and studied advertising and public relations. My business has been in existence for five years. That’s basically all there is.”
“I find that hard to believe. There has to be some life behind all of those facts and figures.” He smiled encouragingly at her.
Terri stiffened. “I suppose there is,” she said softly, “but I don’t care to discuss it.” She turned her head toward the skyline, wishing that the pain would somehow go away.
He raised a hand to touch her, wanting her to know that he’d be willing to listen, but he knew that she wouldn’t give in. At least not yet.
“I know we got off to a bad start this afternoon,” he began, pacing his words and her reaction. “I’d like the opportunity to change that.”
Terri turned to him, the haunted look in her eyes stunning him with its intensity. She absently ran her hands down the sides of her gown, and Clint’s insides went haywire with the motion. He forced himself to look at her eyes instead of those delicious hips.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“I mean,” he said, taking a step closer, “I want you to see the real me.”
“Why would that be important?”
“Because it’s important to me,” he stated simply.
Terri swallowed and placed her hand on the balcony railing. She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “What is it that you think I need to know?”
“That I’m not such a bad guy—and that I’m sure you’ve heard and read a lot of things about me that aren’t true.” He leaned against the railing, inching closer to her. “I’d like to correct that.”
“Is this account that important to you?”
“It has nothing to do with the account.”
“Your ego, perhaps?”
The implications riled him, but he remained unruffled, realizing the truth of her words. He chuckled and ran a hand across his beard in a sensuous motion that rushed through Terri in waves.
“You do have a lovely way of stepping on a person’s ego,” he answered lightly.
Terri lowered her long, sooty lashes and gave in to a grin that Clint wanted to kiss away. “Believe me, it’s not my intention.”
“That’s good to know.” He leaned closer. “Can we just forget about business for a minute?” Terri nodded.
“I’d like to get to know you—outside of the office.” His steady gaze held her, and she felt her pulse begin to pick up its pace.
“I’ve always been a man who speaks his mind,” he continued, his voice dropping to a soothing beat. “And you interest me.”
“In other words, you want to satisfy some curiosity?” she tossed back.
“Maybe.”
Terri jutted her chin forward. “I’m not a curiosity piece, Mr. Steele,” she said, emphasizing the word piece.
Clint took the barb in stride. “You also have a way of twisting my words around.”
Terri sighed. “What’s your point, Mr. Steele?”
“I’d like to take you to…lunch.”
Her heart thumped. “I don’t think…”
“Dinner?” He flashed her a taunting grin. “I’d love to prove you wrong,” he challenged.
Terri knew her fragile emotional state was not yet equipped to handle a relationship, especially not one with a man who effortlessly made her senses go crazy. Yet she couldn’t deny that she was just as interested. Maybe a night out was the medicine she needed after so many months of loneliness. And she was never one to back down from a challenge.
She looked boldly up at him. “How about tomorrow? I finish about seven.”
His voice stroked her. “I’ll meet you out front.”
“I’ll see you then. Good night, Mr. Steele.” She made a move to leave in search of Mark, when Clint’s captivating voice stopped her.
“It’s Clint,” he said, throwing her a heated look that turned her center into liquid fire.
Her voice wrapped around him in invitation. “I’ll try to remember that.”
Chapter 2
The following morning was filled with chaos. There were press releases to go out, writers to interview and an assortment of trivial things that taxed the brain.
Yet even in the midst of the confusion and harried schedule, Terri could not shake Clinton Steele from her thoughts.
How could a man whose unsavory reputation preceded him evoke in her such warm feelings of desire? Terri had found herself lying awake the previous night reliving his touch, the depth of his voice, the scent of him that had clung to her hours after she’d left the reception.
She just found it difficult to believe that a man who could be so warm, so charming, so sensual would have done the unethical things that had been associated with him. Could she have been wrong?
The ringing of the phone intruded on her thoughts. She snatched up the receiver from its cradle.
“Terri Powers,” she said, her mind snapping back to business.
“I thought I’d wait at least twenty-four hours before I called.”
She swore that her heart stopped beating. A rush of heat flooded her body.
“Who is this?” Her fingers gripped the receiver—knowing.
His tone was lightly teasing. “I guess I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous to think that you’d remember me.” He paused a heartbeat of a second. “It’s Mr. Ego.”
She leaned back in her seat, took a silent deep breath and smiled. “Mr. Steele. What can I do for you?”
“Ah, so you do remember.”
Terri laughed outright. “You’re not an easy man to forget.”
“Then I guess that means we’re still on for dinner.”
His voice gently caressed her, and she trembled as if she’d been stroked by fire and ice.
“Yes. Of course. Did you have anyplace special in mind?”
“Why don’t I surprise you?”
“All right. Just as long as it’s not a late night. I have a very heavy schedule on Saturday.”
“What might that be? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Well, if you must know—” she pretended to sound annoyed but she was proud of her work, and it came through in her voice “—I teach African dance to a group of kids in my building on Saturday morning.”
Clint was impressed. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Are your students any good?”
Laughter bubbled in her voice. “Let’s just say they have potential.”
“In that case, I promise to get you home early.”
“Then I’ll see you at seven.”
Terri gently hung up the phone and tried to suppress the exhilaration that had taken control of her body. Then reality struggled for the upper hand. What in the world was she doing? She’d been divorced for only a year, although her marriage had been over before then—and now she was considering another man. A man who she had serious concerns with regarding his principles. Was it too soon? Well, maybe tonight she could put her unsettling feelings to rest.
The cheerful greeting from her friend and employee wrestled her away from her musings.
“Girl, it’s good to have you back,” Stacy declared as she hurried over and gave Terri a warm hug. “You have definitely been missed,” she added in her North Carolinian drawl.
“Thanks.” Terri chuckled, returning the embrace. “I feel as though I’ve been away forever instead of three months.”
“It felt like forever.” Stacy groaned as she took a seat on the sofa and slid her shoulder-length blond hair behind her ear with the tip of her finger. “With mad Mark Andrews in charge, I thought I’d go stark ravin’ outta my mind.”
Terri smiled knowingly. “He can be a bit much at times, but he’s one of the best advertising men in the business. Unfortunately we don’t always see eye to eye.” A slight frown creased her otherwise smooth mahogany brow.
“I can tell by that look that you’re not too pleased with that deal he’s been working on with Hightower Enterprises,” Stacy said. “I just got wind of it myself when I got back from vacation. I knew you’d want to know, and I was pretty sure that Mark hadn’t breathed a word to you about it.” Her green eyes, fringed with long black lashes, widened in question. “Am I right?”
Terri slowly crossed the airy office and took a seat behind her desk, twirling one of her ebony locks between her slender fingers.
“That’s an understatement. Mark knew perfectly well how I felt about Hightower Enterprises and its head honcho, Clinton Steele, in particular.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“We met yesterday, and I initially told Steele to find another agency. However, I’m considering taking another look at the proposal. But there’s some investigating I want to do on my own about Mr. Steele before I make my final decision.” She paused a moment. “We’re having dinner tonight.”
Stacy looked at her quizzically. “Really? That’s not usually your style.”
Her eyes held a faraway look as she spoke. “Mr. Steele is a very unusual man.”
“Do you want me to tag along?”
“No. I’m sure I can handle it. I suppose I could use the stimulation of a good debate to get my thoughts back in focus.”
Stacy heard the emptiness that filled the usually rich voice that she had come to know so well. She spoke softly. “Terri…I know that the divorce and then losing the baby right on top of it has been hell. But, well, if you want to talk, you know I’m always here.”
Terri forced a weak smile. “I know. But it will be a while before I can talk about it.” She lowered her thick lashes. “I really just want to put it out of my mind, Stacy. At least I won’t have to run into my ex anytime soon,” she added cynically.
“I heard through the grapevine that Alan is in L.A.”
Terri nodded, the acute pain of betrayal seizing her. “I can only hope that he finds what he thinks I couldn’t give him.”
Her turbulent four-year marriage to Alan Martin ran through her brain in a kaleidoscope of images. Everyone said that they made such a beautiful-looking couple, but that opposites must certainly attract. Terri, with her exotic natural beauty, had a sense of purpose rooted in the age-old philosophy of family and work for the common good. While Alan, with his playboy good looks, lived for the fast life, the quick money and personal gratification.
It was a marriage almost doomed to fail, but Terri had loved Alan unselfishly almost to the point of losing a part of herself in the process. But after the first blush of passion began to fizzle, Terri saw how unalike they truly were.
Involuntarily her hand stroked across her empty stomach—a place that not long ago had been filled with budding life. Terri blamed herself for the breakup with Alan, feeling that she could not be the kind of woman that he wanted. She’d never allow herself to be that vulnerable to anyone again.
“Terri,” Stacy called softly.
Terri shook her head, dispelling the visions, and focused on Stacy.
“Are you all right?”
“Sure,” Terri answered absently. “I’m fine.” She took a shaky breath and put on her best smile. “Now, if I’m ever going to get back in gear, I’d better get busy with the contracts for McPhearson. We’re scheduled to meet in a few days.”
“I have the promotional campaign almost all mapped out. I’d like you to take a look at it before I put on the final touches,” Stacy said.
“You’ve done a great job on it so far. I can’t see how they won’t love it. If you’re not busy this evening, maybe you can drop it off at my apartment. I’ll go over it during the weekend.”
“I’ll try. If not, it’ll be ready for you on Monday. But do you think you’ll be up to it after a night on the town with Mr. Steele?” she teased.
Terri shook her head in amusement. “Very funny.” She pushed herself up from her seat and walked Stacy to the door.
“Thanks for caring, Stacy.” She gave her a warm look. “It means a lot.”
Stacy patted Terri’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Anytime.”
Terri flashed a fleeting smile as Stacy left the office.
“Mark,” Terri called.
He stopped and waited for her near the elevator.
“I’m going out to lunch. I was expecting a call from McPhearson’s secretary. She hasn’t called yet. If she calls while I’m out, I’ve told Andrea to pass the call to you.”
She slipped into her lightweight, copper-colored trench coat.
“Do you want me to set up the meeting time?”
“Yes. Just check my calendar. I think any day next week will be fine.”
“No problem. I’ll take care of it. Oh, by the way, these need your signature.” He angled his head to the pile of folders under his arm. “I’ll leave them in your office.”
“Have you reviewed them?”
“With a fine-tooth comb.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I really don’t have the time to go through all of them. I’m swamped.”
“I figured as much.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mark.” She started to walk away.
Mark gave a derisive laugh that stopped her. “You’d do just fine. You have so far, haven’t you?” he challenged, his tone heavy with sarcasm.
Terri frowned. The cynicism of the remark grated on her. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“All it means is what I said. You’d…do…just…fine.” His jaw clenched.
“Is everything all right, Mark? You seem…”
“Listen.” He sighed. “I apologize.” He fingered the collar of his shirt and looked away. “I’m just a little tired—the pressure. That’s all.”
Terri noticed his nervous gesture. “Pressure never seemed to bother you before.”
“Well there’s a first time for everything,” he snapped, his expression growing hard. “Have you had a chance to go over the Hightower proposal again?” he asked, quickly shifting the direction of the conversation.
“I’ll get to them sometime next week,” Terri answered warily.
“Then I’ll check back by the middle of next week.” He turned to walk away. “Mark.”
He turned to face her, his eyes widening in question.
“We need to make some time to talk.”
“Really? About what?”
“About us.”
“Us?” He tossed his head back and laughed. “You flatter me. I didn’t know there was an us.”
Terri cocked her head to the side and placed her hand on her rounded hip. “You know perfectly well what I mean. You’ve been on edge ever since I’ve been back.”
“I think you’re overexaggerating, Terri.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I have work to do, and you have to do lunch.” He turned and strode down the corridor, leaving her completely bewildered by his behavior.
Mark returned to his office, his agitation barely held in check. He reached for the phone, tapping his fingers impatiently on the desktop as he waited. Finally the line was answered.
“Melissa Taylor,” said the low, controlled voice.
“Hi. This is Mark. I promised to call.”
“How are you, Mark?”
“Fine. But I’d be even better if you’d have dinner with me.”
Exiting the building, Terri turned left onto Lexington Avenue, ignoring the rush of lunch-goers as she strolled aimlessly down the busy street. Thoughts of her conversation with Mark unbalanced her usually light nature.
Something wasn’t right. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that Mark was jealous. Immediately she discarded the notion. She and Mark had worked side by side for nearly a year. She trusted him. She just couldn’t imagine—
“You look lost.”
She stopped short, a breath away from running into hard, muscular chest. Her heart thumped when she looked up into those eyes and down to the smile that spilled sunshine across her face.
“Clint…I mean…”
“You got it right the first time.” His eyes roamed slowly over her. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Her eyes briefly focused on her beige suede shoes, and her only wish at that moment was that the tiny crack in the sidewalk would open and swallow her.
“I was on my way to grab a bite and decided to take a stroll,” he said. “Are you out to lunch or just doing the window-shopping thing?”
Her eyes flashed at the last comment until she saw the laughter in his eyes. She couldn’t stop the smile that matched his.
“That’s better,” he said, his voice enveloping her like a cocoon. “I’m not into the shopping part, but could I interest you in something from—” he quickly scanned the busy avenue “—Original Ray’s?”
Her eyes followed his to the famous pizzeria across the street and her stomach gave a hungry twist at the mention of her favorite treat.
“Now don’t tell me you don’t eat pizza. That’s almost un-African-American.”
This time she laughed outright, and he memorized the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed and the high sculpted cheekbones that gave credence to her Caribbean heritage.
Hesitating a moment, she sucked in her bottom lip, looking at him then across at the pizzeria.
“Okay.” She held up a slender manicured finger tipped with soft orange. “But just one slice. I have to get back to the office.”
“And,” he said intimately, “I wouldn’t want you to ruin your appetite for dinner.” Then, like a conjurer, he took her proffered hand and it magically disappeared in his. Before she had the presence of mind to react, he was walking her across the street. As much as she hated to admit it, her hand felt fantastic in his.
“I guess you’ve heard all of the ugly rumors about me?” he asked, tearing off a piece of the steamy pizza and looking at her questioningly.
Terri took a deep breath. “Maybe. The question is, are they true?”
He smiled without humor. “That all depends. If you’ve heard that I’m a tough businessman, then it’s true. If you’ve heard that I make it my business to take what I want in life, then that’s also true.” He shot her a penetrating look that made her avert her gaze.
“Beyond that—” he shrugged his broad shoulders “—I’m just your regular guy.” He took a napkin and wiped his full lips, waiting for her response.
“You make it sound so matter-of-fact.”
“I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Terri noticed the momentary flash of pain that hovered behind those dark eyes. Then it was gone. Briefly she wondered who or what had pierced the impenetrable armor.
“You’re a very complex man, Clint.”
He laughed a deep soul-stirring rumble. “I’ve been called worse. Coming from you, however, I take it as a compliment.”
She took a nibble at her pizza and returned it to the paper plate.
“So have you changed your mind about me? My offer still stands.” Hope filled his dark eyes.
Instead of a direct answer, she toyed with him. “I very rarely change my mind once it’s made up. But I’m always open for discussion. If I have reason to listen.”
His voice lowered to a deep whisper, his response rattling her feigned poise. “Then we have a lot more than business to talk about.”
For several breathtaking seconds, their eyes held. “I’ve got to be getting back to the office,” she said, smoothly disguising her shredded composure. “I’ll see you later.”
Without another word, he rose from his seat, rounded the table and helped her on with her coat. The nearness of him set her heart racing and she knew she had to get away—fast.
“Thank you.” She looked up at him one last time. “I’ve got to go,” she breathed.
With that she made a hasty exit, darting in and out of the flow of traffic, the sensation of Clint nipping at her heels as eagerly as the fall breeze.
Terri massaged her temples. The figures just didn’t seem to make sense. She shook her head. Maybe she was just tired. It was past six-thirty and she had been going over the books and comparing dates for hours. Clint would be downstairs waiting. Her pulse quickened at the thought.
Closing the huge ledger, she reached into her desk drawer for her purse just as Andrea, her secretary, tapped on the door and entered.
“Present for the boss,” Andrea said, her face hidden behind long-stemmed flowers.
Terri eyed her secretary with skepticism. Andrea’s arm was laden with what looked to be more than two dozen Casablanca lilies. Quickly she got up from her desk to help with the burden.
“Where on earth did these come from?” Terri asked.
“They just arrived.”
Terri gently searched through the huge bouquet.
“There’s no card, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
Terri frowned. “Are you sure? How did they get here?” She placed the flowers on the desk and selected a vase from the credenza large enough to accommodate them.
“A messenger just brought them up. All I did was sign for them. They were addressed to you.”
Terri was puzzled. “I don’t understand. These are my favorite flowers,” she said in a wispy voice. She pressed her face against the bouquet and inhaled the heady aroma. “But who knows that?”
“Obviously someone does.” Andrea smiled. “I’ll put these in water and bring them right back.” She picked up the lilies and the vase and left the office.
“Thanks,” Terri answered absently.
For several moments she paced the room, trying to figure out who could have sent the flowers. The only people who knew of her passion for lilies were her adoptive parents, and she was sure that they hadn’t sent them. They were hundreds of miles away and weren’t the type of people who sent gifts just to be thoughtful. If it wasn’t an act that would get them a blurb in the society column, they didn’t bother. She’d probably mentioned it to several people, but to no one who would have gone to this extravagance. Clint?
She shook her head and smiled. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” she whispered, remembering her nana’s favorite line. Then she chuckled to herself, wondering for the zillionth time what in the world was a gift horse anyway?
Moments later, Andrea returned with the lilies safely deposited in the crystal vase.
“Where should I put these, Ms. Powers?”
“On the small table by the window. That should give them just enough light.”
“I’m all finished out front. If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to go home.”
“Of course, Andrea. I didn’t mean to keep you here so late. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Good night, Ms. Powers.”
“Good night.”
Left alone in the room Terri took one last look at her beautiful bouquet. It had been a long time since someone had sent her flowers. And she was going to enjoy every minute of it. She closed the door gently behind her.
Terri exited the building and was greeted by a cold burst of wind. October was a mysterious month. There was no telling what Mother Nature would send. The temperature had already dropped considerably since the afternoon, and she was thankful that she had decided to wear her trench coat. Her only wish was that she’d put in the lining.
Pulling the trench tightly around her trim body, she took a quick look up at the cloud-filled sky and wondered how far off was the first snowfall.
She checked her watch, noting that it was seven on the dot, and approached the curb to wait for Clint. Just as she neared the curb, a black Mercedes-Benz pulled up in front of her. Annoyed that the car had stopped and blocked her view of traffic, she started to walk to the corner just as the driver got out.
Leaning over the hood of the car, a look of pure mischief on his face, Clint held out one Casablanca lily between his fingers. “Can I take a few dozen lilies off your hands in exchange for dinner?”
Chapter 3
Terri tried to keep the conversation light and impersonal throughout dinner, but the mellow atmosphere and soft music at B. Smith’s Restaurant lent itself to intimacy. Within a short space of time she found herself laughing at Clint’s wry sense of humor and actually forgetting all of the things she’d heard and read about him.
He was animatedly recounting an incident that had occurred in the health club. “My friend Steve really had me just where he wanted me,” he laughed. “There I was, spread-eagled on the bench with a hundred-pound weight hanging over my head.”
“What did you do?”
“Cried uncle, what else?”
Terri shook her head in laughter, visualizing Clint’s precarious plight.
“What do you do in your spare time?” he asked, loving the way her crimson dress hugged her curves.
“Read mostly. I play tennis in the summer, dance all year long and I love riding through the park. But it’s gotten so dangerous lately, I’ve cut back.”
His voice lowered and raked over her. “I’d be more than happy to be your protector.”
She looked at him coyly. “Maybe.” Now why did I say that?
“That’s the best answer you’ve given me to date. My faith in humanity is restored.”
She lowered her thick lashes, her heart beating wildly. Then she looked up. “How did you know about the lilies?” she asked softly.
“I always make it my business to find out all I can about anything or anyone that interests me. In other words, I ask questions. I had my secretary dig up an article that was written about you in Black Enterprise. You mentioned your passion for the lilies in the article.”
Her stomach lurched at the pointed look that he threw her way, but she kept her expression unreadable, which enticed Clint all the more.
“I believe I’ll have to follow that philosophy,” she replied.
“So, you’ve found something that has piqued your curiosity,” he tossed back, enjoying the game.
“Perhaps. If there’s anything of interest, I’ll be sure to let you know.” Her smile was a taunt, and Clint’s insides tightened.
“Would you like anything else?” His voice was thick with the emotions that he struggled to control. Terri unwittingly brought out the passion in him that he hadn’t felt for anyone in years. Every time he heard her voice or saw her face, he thought of what it would be like to unleash that cool control that she displayed so well.
“No. I’m stuffed. The red snapper was delicious.” She finished the last of her spring water, secretly enjoying the heat that blazed in Clint’s eyes and shook his voice.
“I’m glad you liked it. I haven’t been here in a while, but the food is still the way I remember it.”
“Do you come here often?”
“From time to time. Usually on business meetings.”
The mention of business brought her back to reality.
“From the look on your face, you’d think I said a bad word.” He stared at her.
“It just makes me wonder what you want with me. After all, you’re in a very nasty business.”
“Let me set the record straight.” He took a deep breath. “I involve myself in businesses that are on the brink of folding, or businesses that I feel can be better managed by me. Where is the crime in that?”
“That’s putting it delicately.” She crumpled the linen napkin into a ball, her temper flaring.
“Delicate but true.”
“You make what you do sound like a humanitarian gesture. How can you sleep at night knowing what you’ve done to so many people?”
He clenched his jaw. “I don’t do anything that I’m not allowed to do within the law.” Exasperation filled his voice. “If I make an offer to a company and they accept, what’s the harm?”
“The harm is that they give you everything they’ve worked for, and you reap the benefits. You’ve built your fortune on the backs of other people. Our people!” Her voice rose in anger. “What gives you that right?”
Their eyes locked in a battle of wills.
Clint glared at her. How dare she make him feel guilty? He was never one to blow his own horn, and he’d be damned if he’d start now. If she really wanted to know about him, let her do her own homework.
Clint was the first to break the icy contact. “If you’re ready, I’ll drive you home,” he said in a tight voice.
“I can catch a cab, thank you,” she answered, annoyed with herself for letting her emotions get out of control.
Clint signaled for the waiter and paid the check. Terri rose to slip on her coat, but not before Clint rounded the table and took it from her.
Slowly, deliberately, he helped her into her coat, the nearness of him sending her pulse on a wild gallop. He pressed his lips close to her ear, inhaling her scent, his warm breath tingling her neck.
“I don’t want the evening to end like this, Terri. I’m not interested in the campaign with your company. I can get another agency to do it. I want you and I to be friends—more than friends.”
The suggestiveness of his words forced her to look up at him.
Was it sincerity that she saw brimming in those pools of midnight or was it something else?
“I—I don’t know how that could be possible. We come from two different worlds.”
“Not two different worlds, Terri. Two different points of view. But that’s what makes a relationship interesting.”
She stepped out of his grasp, her body on fire. She reached for her purse. Her voice shuddered. “I’ve got to be going.”
“I’ll get you a cab.”
A cold wind blew viciously around them, and a shiver ran up Terri’s spine. Clint instinctively put his arm around her shoulder, easing her next to his body.
Before she could protest, a yellow cab pulled up to the corner and she thankfully stepped out of his embrace.
Clint reached around her and opened the car door. With her nerves strung to near popping, she threw out her address in a gush.
“Get the lady home safely,” Clint instructed the driver. He looked down at Terri’s upturned face. “Until we meet again,” he said softly, “and we will.” He smiled and closed the car door.
It seemed an eternity before she finally reached her apartment on Twenty-eighth Street. Her head was pounding, and she massaged her temples hoping to relieve the nervous pressure.
Taking the short elevator ride up to the third floor, she put her key in the door and stepped into the cozy comfort of her apartment.
Mechanically she hung her coat on the brass coatrack and deposited her shoes in the foyer. Then she headed straight for the fireplace, and within moments the finely decorated rooms were filled with the warmth from the crackling flames.
Crossing the gleaming wood floors, she sank down into the cottony soft comfort of her bronze-colored couch, closing her eyes against the events of the evening. Instantly a vision of Clint bloomed before her, and she involuntarily trembled, remembering all too well the feel of him, the richness of his scent, the timbre of his voice.
She jumped back up from the couch, afraid of where her feelings were taking her, and turned on the stereo, hoping to muffle the rapid beating of her heart, just as the doorbell rang.
She frowned, wondering who could be ringing her bell. Then she remembered that Stacy had said she might stop by.
Without thinking further, she padded across the room and flung open the door, a small smile of expectation lighting her face.
Clint’s lips swept down on hers. His arms enfolded her in a powerful grip. Terri’s heart slammed against her breasts as she was helplessly carried away by the sensation of his lips.
Her mind commanded her to pull away, but her body succumbed to the temptation of his tongue toying with her lips, separating them as he entered her mouth. He tasted of wine and a touch of mint. How good the two were together, she thought dizzily.
How long had it been since she’d been held, been kissed, been made to feel like a woman by just a look? Suddenly the emptiness began to slowly fill and like one ravaged by thirst, she drank of the waters.
He never knew a simple kiss could be like this. He stroked her back, delving into her mouth, wanting to seek out all of the hidden places. She was soft and strong all at once, a candy sweetness that demanded that he take more and more. He moaned against her mouth as arousal overtook him, hardening him to near bursting. His body demanded release, but his mind took control.
He released her, and she was sure that if it wasn’t for the hand that still gripped the doorknob, she would have crumpled.
“I knew I’d forgotten something,” he stated in a ragged voice, his eyes stripping her bare. With that he turned and strode down the corridor, leaving her trembling.
As she drifted off to sleep that night, her last conscious thought was that she’d have to do some serious checking on the devastating Mr. Steele.
Chapter 4
Rising early Monday morning, Terri completed her half hour of meditation, prepared her usual glass of carrot juice and took a quick shower.
Searching through her closet she selected a brilliant green silk dress with fiery splashes of red and bold gold throughout. As an added accessory, she chose an oblong gold silk scarf that draped dramatically across her right shoulder. A small gold pin in the shape of Queen Nefertiti held the scarf in place. To take away from her girlish looks, she twisted her shoulder-length locks into an intricate twist on the top of her head, accentuating her sculpted features.
Satisfied with her look, she completed her outfit by selecting a pair of green suede pumps. With shoes and purse in hand, she padded to the door in stockinged feet before slipping into her shoes.
She checked her watch. It was almost ten o’clock. She wasn’t due in the office until after twelve. That would give her at least an hour of research time in the business library. She was going to dig up every article, news item and gossip clipping that she could find on Clinton Steele and Hightower Enterprises.
Nearly two hours later, armed with a dossier full of information, Terri left the library, hailed a cab and headed for her office. She was stunned to discover the volumes of information that had been written about Clint over the past ten years. It would take days, maybe even weeks, to sort through it all. But she would—of that she was sure.
She leaned back in the cab and considered her next step. As soon as she arrived at work, she’d give her friend Lisa Barrett a call. Lisa had worked as the head of proposals for the Gateway Foundation for fifteen years. Gateway solicited help from all of the major corporations in the United States to support charitable causes and community services. Any company worth its salt had contributed at some point. Powers, Inc., had made sizable contributions over the years, and Terri was sure that if anyone knew about the inner workings of the businesses in New York it would be Lisa.
Arriving at her office, Terri quickly placed a call to Lisa.
“Lis, hi, it’s Terri.”
“Hey, hon, how are you? I haven’t heard from you in days. Are you back at work?”
“In answer to your first question, I’m okay. And yes, I’m back at work, but I need a favor.”
“Doesn’t everybody,” Lisa commented drolly. “What might yours be?”
“I need you to check out Clinton Steele. He owns—”
“Believe me, I know what he owns.” Her voice was filled with amazement. “You’re really moving into the big time. What do you want to know?”
“Anything that you can find. He made a bid for us to do an ad campaign, but I don’t like what I’ve heard about him. Still, I’d like to give the man the benefit of the doubt.”
“I’d like to give the man a lot of things, but doubt isn’t one of them,” Lisa quipped wistfully.
“Lisa,” Terri moaned, “come on, this is serious.”
“All right—all right. I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thanks, Lis. Call me when you do.”
With that out of the way, Terri diligently tried to focus on the meeting with McPhearson ahead of her. She’d prepared her notes, gone over Stacy’s campaign strategy and had dressed the part of the executive to the hilt.
Yet even with all of her preparation, she could not shake thoughts of Clint from her mind. Every free second for the past two days, visions of him assaulted her. She couldn’t count how many times she’d relived his kiss. Just the thought of it sent jolts of electricity whistling through her veins. Damn you, Clinton Steele! she thought. Why now, when my whole life is in a tailspin? And why you?
Sighing deeply, she got up from her desk and smoothed her dress. She hadn’t heard from him since that night, and maybe it was just as well. Things were getting too complicated too fast.
She checked the antique grandfather clock that stood against the wall. The representatives from McPhearson were due in her office any minute.
Where was Mark? she wondered, her agitation building. He should have been here an hour ago. She crossed the room in long-legged strides and pressed the intercom.
“Andrea?”
“Yes, Ms. Powers?”
“Has Mark arrived yet?”
“He just walked in.”
“As soon as he’s ready, would the two of you come in? You’ll need to bring your Dictaphone, Andrea. I want every word recorded. And buzz Stacy also.”
“Yes, Ms. Powers.”
Terri returned to her desk just as her private line rang. “Terri Powers,” she answered.
“Ms. Powers, this is Mr. McPhearson’s secretary.”
“Oh, yes. I wasn’t expecting a call. Is there a delay in the meeting time?” She immediately flipped open her plan book, hugging the phone between her shoulder and her ear, pen poised and waiting.
“Uh, Ms. Powers—Mr. McPhearson wants me to inform you that he’s changed his mind about the campaign.”
“What?” She dropped the pen between the ivory pages. “I don’t understand. Everything was set.”
“That’s all the information I have, Ms. Powers.”
“Let me speak with Mr. McPhearson.” Her pulse pounded in her ears.
“He’s in a meeting.”
Terri would have laughed at the practiced line if she wasn’t so furious. “Would you have him call me as soon as he’s through?”
“He’s leaving directly for the airport when the meeting concludes.”
“I see.” Terri swallowed, her back stiffening. “Thank you.”
Blindly she hung up the phone, a sinking feeling taking over. This deal was critical. She couldn’t believe that McPhearson would pull out, just like that. There had to be some explanation, and she was damn sure going to find out what it was.
She paced the floor, her teeth biting her bottom lip, trying to contemplate a course of action.
There was a light tap at the door.
“Come in,” Terri said offhandedly.
Stacy stepped in.
“All ready for the big boys?” Stacy asked. She took a seat at the round conference table on the far side of the office.
Terri blew out an exasperated breath. “McPhearson’s secretary called.”
“About what?” Stacy took a sip of black coffee and tossed her blond hair behind her ears.
“It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. They reneged.”
“What?”
“You heard right. They pulled out,” Terri said.
“But why? They couldn’t have gotten a better deal if they’d whipped it up themselves.”
“Apparently they did.”
“I don’t believe it.” She ran a hand through her hair.
“Neither do I.”
“So now what?”
Terri raised her eyebrows. “I’ll have to think it through and explore some other options. We’ll really have to push for a confirmation with Viatek Studios. I want you to work on that right away.”
Stacy nodded and jotted down some hasty notes. “Does Mark know about McPhearson?”
“I haven’t seen Mark yet.”
“This was his advertising deal originally, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Then almost as an afterthought, she added, “And so was the account that fell through with Conners, the independent producer,” in a voice filled with awakening.
She turned to Stacy, her eyes burning with purpose. “As soon as I inform Mark that the deal has been canceled, I want you and I to go over Mark’s files with a fine-tooth comb, as he puts it. I went over the books last week, and there are things that don’t make sense. I thought it was because I was tired but now I wonder…”
Stacy nodded, her sea-green eyes reflecting Terri’s concern. “I’ll see what else I can dig up from the logs,” Stacy added just as Andrea peeked her head in the door.
“Mark is here, Ms. Powers.”
“Tell him to come in, Andrea.”
Mark strolled in moments later, his light brown eyes shifting from one woman to the other. “Why the long faces?” He walked over to the water cooler and filled a paper cup.
“McPhearson canceled the deal,” Terri stated. She watched for his reaction.
“You’re kidding? I worked weeks on that deal.” He ran his index finger around the collar of his shirt.
She registered the move. “I’m sure you did.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means we’ll have to do some rearranging of our finances.”
“Well, if you’d accept Steele’s proposal we’d—”
She cut him off. “What time is your flight to Detroit?”
“I have to be at the airport in an hour.”
Terri turned away, unable to look at him another minute. “Tell your folks I said hello. We’ll talk when you get back.”
“Fine!” Mark snatched up his notes and his briefcase and slammed out of the office.
Terri turned to Stacy. “As soon as he’s out of the building, I want you to pull his files. Everything.”
Hours later, exhausted and wanting to disbelieve what was in front of her, Terri closed the folders that Stacy had given her. The evidence was clear, and she had no alternative.
Slowly she got up from her desk, her heart heavy with regret, wondering what she could have done differently. She didn’t know. All she could do now was prepare for Mark’s return.
Stretching, her body aching with fatigue, she envisioned sinking into a steamy bubble bath, when a picture of Clint intruded on her thoughts. Her pulse raced at an alarming speed as she remembered the feel of his lips against hers… The part of her that wanted more wondered what it would be like to make love with him.
This was getting crazy, she thought, angry at herself for fantasizing about a man who definitely was not for her. She hadn’t heard from him since their dinner date, and the thought that he was playing games with her renewed her frustration and misgivings.
Gathering her purse and briefcase, she took her coat from the rack and began to leave the office just as the phone rang.
She started to let the answering service pick up the call but decided against it, thinking that it might be important.
“Terri Powers,” she answered by rote.
“Terri, it’s Clint.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Does he read my mind, or what? “Yes?”
“I haven’t been able to get you off of my mind.”
Me, either. Silence.
“How are you?”
If you only knew. “I’ve been better.”
“You don’t sound like yourself. Is something wrong?”
“I couldn’t begin to explain.” But she desperately wanted to. She wanted to feel his arms around her again, to hear his laughter, to taste his lips. But she couldn’t.
“Listen, uh, I’m really tired, Clint. You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.”
“Maybe you should talk about it. That helps, you know.”
“Not this time.”
He wouldn’t be dismissed. “Why don’t I meet you? We could go for dinner or something. Maybe a drive.” He drummed his fingers on the desk, waiting for her response.
“Clint, I really…”
“I’ll be downstairs in ten minutes. Wait for me, Terri.”
The next sound she heard was the dial tone.
Terri waited in quiet agitation for the elevator to reach her floor. Why was he doing this to her? A better question was, why was she doing this to herself? She knew perfectly well that Clint was not the kind of man to be taken lightly. What was more disturbing, he was the kind of man that fascinated her against her better judgment. That reality frightened her.
Finally the elevator arrived, and her heart raced as the metal box made its painstakingly slow descent.
She pulled her white cashmere coat tightly around her as a shiver jetted up her spine at the thought of seeing him. Maybe he wouldn’t be there, and she could just escape to the sanctuary of her apartment. Just like she’d been doing for months, hiding from the possibility of life as she once knew it—too frightened to take any more chances. But there was another part of her that longed to be fulfilled again, the part that hoped he’d be waiting.
The doors of the elevator opened on the lobby level. Terri stepped out, her head held high. Casually she looked toward the revolving doors. Her spirits sank when she realized that Clint was nowhere in sight. Fine!
She strode purposefully forward, anticipation replaced with annoyance. Why did it matter? she chastised herself, pushing through the revolving doors. This was probably just another game to Clint.
Her temper rolled to the surface as she stood on the windy corner to hail a taxi. She waved her hand at an oncoming cab. As it approached, the cab’s dome light flashed the off-duty sign.
Terri went livid, wanting to scream and cry all at the same time. That was the final insult of the day. She really didn’t know how much more she could—
“You weren’t going to wait?”
Clint’s voice seemed to massage her spine and unlock the tension that had gripped her. She turned toward the sound of his voice and looked up at him, the anxiety and frustration of the day brimming in her brown eyes. How easy it would be to just walk into his arms and let him soothe the aches away.
She remained immobile.
Something in the way she looked at him touched a hidden corner of his heart. He reached out and placed his large hands on her shoulders. “Terri, what’s wrong?” Concern softened his voice. “You look like you’ve been crying.”
Terri blinked and swallowed back the lump in her throat. “It’s just the wind,” she answered with a calmness that surprised her.
“I got stuck in traffic,” he said by way of apology.
“Oh.”
Why did he suddenly feel like a little boy having to explain his misbehavior? The awkward feeling left him unnerved. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Can I at least give you a lift?”
She gave him a half smile and shrugged her right shoulder. “You could drop me off at my apartment. If you don’t mind.”
“No problem. My car is over—” He looked across the busy intersection to see a traffic cop sticking a ticket on his windshield.
“Hey!” he yelled as he immediately darted through traffic to the other side of the street. He snatched the ticket from the window, intent on making the offender eat it.
Clint strode over to the “brownie,” as they were dubbed by New Yorkers for their brown uniforms, and shook the ticket in his face.
“Listen, buddy,” Clint hissed, interrupting the officer from writing another ticket. “I was there for only a minute. What’s the deal with this ticket?” He checked his watch. “It’s five after seven. I can legally park here.”
“Not by my watch,” the brownie said, dismissing Clint.
“Your watch is wrong!” Clint stalked the officer as he moved to the next car.
“If you think so, then take it to court.”
The officer walked away, leaving Clint to throw daggers at his back.
Terri gingerly eased alongside of an irate Clint, fighting hard to stifle the giggles that bubbled in her throat. This was the first time that she had truly seen the cool, controlled Clint totally bent out of shape. Her only regret was that she didn’t have a camera.
“How much is it?” she asked in a tiny voice.
“Fifty damn dollars!” he spat, slamming his palm against the hood of the Benz. He looked at the ticket in disbelief, then across at Terri, whose face was contorting in silent hilarity.
“Go ahead—laugh,” he said, his own anger giving way to the ridiculousness of it all. A reluctant grin lifted one side of his mouth.
Finally, through tears and giggles, she pointed a finger at him, the laughter still bubbling over. “You should have seen the look on your face,” she said.
“You think this is all very amusing, don’t you?” he said, trying to sound threatening.
Terri wiped her eyes and took several deep breaths. “Actually I do. I mean, let’s face it, you can afford it.”
“Now that makes me feel a helluva lot better.”
“Well,” Terri offered, pulling herself together, “I guess the least I could do is treat you to dinner. After all, if you hadn’t come to see me, none of this—” she covered her budding smile with a gloved hand “—would have happened.”
“You know what?” He looked at her hard and braced her shoulders. “I’m gonna take you up on your offer.”
After a delicious meal in Chinatown, punctuated by con genial conversation, Clint drove Terri to her apartment building. The plush luxury of the Benz was like a soothing balm to her tense body. Slowly she began to relax, her voice a mere whisper when she spoke.
“I’ve always wanted to learn to drive a stick shift,” she said dreamily, “but it’s such a hassle with the stop-and-go Manhattan traffic.”
“I know what you mean.” He switched into Second gear. “But after living in England and driving on the open road, it became second nature to me. I love the feel of power,” he added, tossing her a searing look as he held on to the stick.
“I didn’t know you lived in England.”
“Yeah, for a while,” he said, wishing that he’d never mentioned that part of his life. Just the idea of her saying she wanted to learn to drive a standard drove the knife of guilt through his gut, painfully reminding him of his daughter, whom he’d left behind in the care of his sister-in-law, because he’d caused her mother’s—his wife’s—death.
“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.”
“Hmm.”
Terri looked at him from the corner of her eye, in time to see the hard, dark expression that passed across his face. She decided not to probe and leaned back against the leather cushion of the headrest. Maybe some other time.
Where had all of the tension gone? As much as she was reluctant to admit it, she enjoyed being in Clint’s company. He made her laugh, he lightened her spirit. He was intelligent and witty, and he was undeniably sexy. Clint made her feel things that she hadn’t felt in so long. Only this time it was more powerful, more compelling. And she wanted it.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts as he made the turn onto her street.
If she could have turned red, she would have been crimson. She felt certain that he could read her thoughts, and she felt suddenly exposed.
“Oh, just about some things at the office.”
“You never did tell me what was bothering you.” He pulled up in front of her door.
She looked at him, her voice softening. “It doesn’t really matter now.”
“If it affects you, Terri, then it matters.”
She fumbled with her purse. “It’s getting late. I—”
He reached for her, turning her to face him. “You keep running from me.”
His voice wrapped around her.
“Every time we get close, you run from me like a scared little girl.”
He gently stroked her face.
She held her breath.
“You’re a woman, Terri.” His eyes roamed over her, igniting her. “A desirable, sensual woman who I want in my life. But you have to give me a chance.”
Could he possibly mean what he was telling her? Or was this just a ploy? Maybe he was right. How would she ever know, if she never gave him the chance? Curiosity won out.
“Would you like to come up for a nightcap?” She smiled a tentative smile. “I think I have some fruit juice and chips.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Terri opened her apartment door and immediately stepped out of her shoes, instructing Clint to do the same. She grinned at his perplexed look.
“When you leave your shoes at the door,” she explained, “you leave all of the bad vibes behind you and just bring peace into your home.”
“Hmm…” Clint nodded, handing her his shoes “…sounds good to me.”
“Well, come on in and make yourself comfortable. You can hang your coat on the rack.” She pointed to the brass coatrack and headed for the living room. She turned on the CD player, and seconds later the music of Miles Davis blew a soulful tune in the background. Terri left Clint and went to prepare a platter of chips with a cheese dip and a bowl of pretzels.
“You have a great place, Terri,” Clint commented, admiring the ethnic artwork and handcrafted sculpture. Huge earthen urns sat majestically in corners, overflowing with fresh-cut flowers in some and arrangements of silk in others.
“Thanks,” she called from the kitchen, quietly pleased that he liked her taste. “Would you light a fire, please?”
“Sure.” He walked to the fireplace and got the fire going. Finished, he roamed over to her bookcase and saw that she had volumes of poetry as well as what appeared to be every espionage and crime story ever written. What a strange combination, he thought, more fascinated than ever.
Terri entered the living room and placed the tray of snacks on the smoked-glass table.
“I see you’ve found out my secret,” she said, walking up behind him. “I’m a closet poet with a murderous streak.”
“The poet part I don’t mind,” he answered jovially, “it’s the other half that scares me. Actually, as quiet as it’s kept, I read a lot of poetry. It relaxes me. Especially after a rough day.”
Terri’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Really?”
“Let that be our little secret.” He lowered his voice to a pseudo-whisper. “I don’t want to ruin my dubious reputation.”
Terri replied in kind. “Your secret is safe with me. Just don’t cross me,” she teased. “Come on and sit down. After I’ve been slaving over a hot stove for hours, I want you to eat every drop.”
Clint chuckled as he followed her to the couch.
“…So when I discovered that the books didn’t jibe, it made me do some additional checking. To make a long story short, I don’t like what I found.” She was still reluctant to tell him too much. The last thing she needed was his sympathy or for him to think that she was totally incompetent. “I’ve worked hard to get to where I am, Clint. This company means everything to me. I’ve sacrificed a lot and I’ve given a lot. All I expect in return is honesty and a good day’s work.”
Could he dare tell her that he’d embarked on his own investigation? Good sense told him to hold off revealing his suspicions. He had to be absolutely positive, first. His years in business had honed his instincts. He was certain that something was amiss at her agency. Tentatively he put his arm around her. “What are you going to do now?”
“I have a few things in mind,” she said, enjoying the weight of his arm around her shoulders. But she wasn’t sure she should divulge her plan.
Clint moved a stray lock from her face and tucked it behind her ear, pleased with the silky quality of her hair.
She looked at him and felt her heart lurch.
With painful slowness, he lowered his head, his eyes holding hers. The flames from the fireplace appeared to dance in her eyes.
She knew her heart was going to explode into a million little pieces as his mouth slowly descended to meet her own.
The contact was incendiary, and Terri was certain that she heard fireworks erupt in the background.
The velvet warmth of his lips gently brushed over hers, taunting, tempting her with what was to come.
And it came.
The fire of his tongue played across her mouth as he spread his fingers through her twisted mane, pulling her completely against his hungry mouth.
Instinctively her lips parted and the tip of his tongue played teasing games, exploring her mouth, sending jolts of current surging through her.
He moaned against her lips, a deep carnal sound that vibrated to her center. Terri felt the heat race through her limbs as his fingers traced the pulse that pounded in her throat.
She wanted to scream when he pulled his mouth away from her lips, only to plant wet, hot kisses across her face, down her neck. Then he let his tongue play havoc in her ear, and every fiber of her body ignited.
“Clint…” She trembled against him.
A tingle of excitement ran through her as his hand trailed down the curve of her back, pulling her closer, caressing her, causing her body to arch, her rounded breasts to press against his chest, and he knew he would go out of his mind.
“I want you, Terri,” he groaned in her ear.
His mouth covered hers again, his tongue slashing against hers, demanding, urgent.
Her arms tightened around his hard muscular frame. She stroked the strong tendons of his neck, the outline of his chest. She felt as if she was falling, spinning weightless through space, and she never wanted the feeling to end. But she knew it had to stop. The door to her past was still ajar, and until she could empty it fully, no one else could enter.
His mind spun in a maelstrom of confusion. What was he doing? This was not part of the plan for his life. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, to want her from the depth of his being. His body ached to be a part of hers. But he couldn’t do this to her. She was sure to think that he was just trying to romance her in order to get her to agree to the deal. He wanted her to want him for the right reasons, or not at all.
As if reading each other’s minds, slowly they pulled away—each trying to control the shudders that ripped through them.
“I…I’m sorry.” He stroked her cheek. “I didn’t—”
“It’s okay, Clint,” Terri stuttered, breathless and in awe of what had almost taken place.
He gently pulled her into his embrace, fighting back the desires that wrestled to engulf him.
“I won’t rush you, Terri,” he whispered in a ragged breath. “As much as I may want to,” he added with a soft smile.
She touched his lips with her own. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Reluctantly he rose from the couch. “I’d better go.” He smiled mischievously down at her, mimicking an old Western movie. “I cain’t guarantee your honor, m’am, if’n I stay.”
Terri released a shaky laugh and stood up in front of him. She slipped her arms around his waist, looking up into his eyes.
“Then I’d say you’d better mosey on outta here, mister,” she teased, matching his parody.
He held her for a long moment, burying his face in her hair, his confusion complete. Then he released her.
“I’ll get your coat,” she offered.
At the doorway Terri felt ridiculously like a teenager on her first date. Her nerves rattled, and her heart was pounding so loud she just knew Clint could hear every beat.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.
“I’d like that.”
Clint leaned down and brushed her lips. The contact was too brief and he wanted more. Pulling her into his arms he kissed her fully, her own desire matching his every rhythm.
He eased away. “I’ve got to go,” he said, his voice thick with desire. He started to leave, then turned back. “You’ll be happy to know that I’ve found another advertising agency to do the work. So now there’s no more business to interfere.” His dark eyes bored into hers. “This is purely personal. The rest is up to you.” He turned away, never looking back to see the expression of astonished relief spread across her face.
As if on a cloud, Terri glided back into the living room, a smile of contentment lighting her face as she replayed his final words. This is purely personal.
She changed the CD, replacing Miles Davis with Kenny G. Crossing the living room, she walked down the narrow hallway to the bathroom. Mechanically she turned on the tub water, adding her favorite bubble bath. Soon the herbal aroma filled the room, and her weary body nearly screamed for relief. Piece by piece she stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the steamy water.
Terri sank into the tub, the bubbles coming up to her chin. She closed her eyes, letting the steam envelop her, and a picture of Clint sprang to life before her eyes—and she trembled.
His mouth seemed to caress every part of her body, kneading all of the aches away. A soft moan of remembrance filtered through her lips, and she silently wished that he was there with her.
She felt the slow, steady warming that spread through her body and knew that it had nothing to do with the steaming water. And she wondered what it would have been like making love with Clint. How soon, if ever, would she know?
After a fantasy-filled half hour, Terri finally curled up into bed, sinking into the comfort of the freshly washed sheets. She reached for the book of poetry she kept by her nightstand, determined to ease away the last vestiges of tension and images of Clint.
Just as she was about to drift off to sleep, the ringing of the phone jarred her back to consciousness.
Annoyance replaced curiosity as she drowsily reached for the intrusive instrument.
“Hello?” she mumbled.
“Terri, it’s me, Lisa.”
“Lisa,” she groaned. “It’s late.”
“I know. But I got the info you wanted. I thought you’d be interested.”
Terri sat straight up in her bed. Please let it be good.
“Your Mr. Steele is, anonymously, one of the biggest individual benefactors that the Gateway Foundation has.”
Chapter 5
The morning sun was barely up in the sky when Clint rose from his bed. He’d spent a torturous night, reliving what almost was. More times than he cared to count he’d reached for the phone to dial Terri’s number. Each time, halfway through dialing, he’d hung up. The next move was Terri’s. He’d put his cards on the table.
Pulling on a terry-cloth robe he padded across the bedroom and opened his dresser drawer. Rifling through his possessions, he pulled out a cutoff T-shirt and an old pair of shorts. Crossing to the closet, he selected a navy blue sweat suit and a pair of sneakers. Usually a brisk run around the park revitalized him and cleared his head.
An hour later he lay sprawled across his king-size bed, drenched in perspiration from his morning jog. His frustration was still alive and well.
Staring up at the stucco ceiling, his hands clasped behind his head, a slow smile of acceptance spread across his face. Terri was under his skin to stay, and no amount of jogging was going to change it.
Terri strode down the office corridor, looking neither left nor right. How could she have been so narrow-minded and gullible to be taken in by rumors and speculation? She should have gone along with her instincts in the first place. She smiled ruefully. There was no way that her senses could have been that far off base if they went into crisis every time she thought of Clint.
She closed her office door with a thud, tossing her briefcase on the desk, her coat shortly behind.
Her head ached from the hours of reading she had done after Lisa’s call. She’d forced herself to go through as many of the reports that she’d gotten from the library as she could before she’d fallen asleep. That, compounded with the company ledgers, was enough to keep her head spinning for weeks. But she had work to do, and it would begin with a process of elimination.
She reached for the phone and dialed Stacy’s extension.
Stacy picked up on the second ring.
“Stacy Williams, here.”
“Stacy, I need you in my office in an hour. In the meantime I want you to pull the accounting records for the past six months and compare them to the figures we came up with last night.”
“Sure. Anything else?”
“The sooner the better. I want to get that SOB out of here as soon as possible.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Thanks.”
Terri hung up the phone, then proceeded to unlock the file cabinet, retrieving the files that she had examined the previous night. The pages in front of her seemed to laugh at her naïveté.
She shook her head in disbelief. Powers, Inc., was on the brink of deep financial trouble, and she had let it happen. Her trusting nature had overruled her business judgment, and it had cost her dearly. For the past year she’d felt like a failure as a wife and then as a mother. All she had left was her business, and now even that was threatened.
No more.
She quickly crossed the office and went out into the small reception area. Andrea was just taking her seat.
“Good morning, Ms. Powers,” she greeted cheerfully, then changed her tone when she saw the thunderclouds raging in Terri’s dark eyes. “Is something wrong?”
“Not for long,” she responded. “I need you to get Al Pierce, the accountant, on the phone. Tell him to stop whatever he’s doing. I want him here within the hour, along with all of the records that have anything to do with Powers, Inc. Make sure that he understands that this is not a request. This is a command performance. If he gives you the slightest bit of a problem, put me on the line and I’ll handle him.”
“Yes, Ms. Powers,” she said meekly.
“Thank you. Oh, and as soon as Mr. Andrews arrives, send him into my office.”
Terri turned back toward her office before Andrea had a chance to respond.
Andrea couldn’t remember ever seeing Terri this angry before. This must be serious, she thought, thankful that the boss’s rage was not directed at her. She flipped through her Rolodex and found the accountant’s number.
Clint stared pensively at the folders in front of him. He’d wrestled with what he had to do for several days. His decision was made. His friend Steve’s investigation of Mark had come up with some very damning information, and he felt compelled to tell Terri, whether she accepted his help or not.
The tapping on his office door snapped him to attention. Melissa strolled in.
“You wanted to see me, Clint?” she asked, beaming a brilliant smile.
“Yes. Have a seat.”
Melissa took a seat opposite Clint, seductively crossing her long legs. She regarded him thoughtfully, gaining a joyous satisfaction in studying his profile. Her strong admiration and loyalty for Clint bordered on the romantic, but she was always careful never to cross that line. She sighed silently, wishing that one day he’d see past her brains to the woman who could rock his world.
“You’ve been seeing Mark Andrews.” His question was more of a statement, and Melissa wasn’t sure if she should be angry or flattered by his interest.
“I won’t even begin to ask you how you know,” she stated candidly, the years of working together being enough of an answer. “Is there a problem that I should know about?”
Clint slowly crossed the room, sliding his hands into his pants pockets. He turned to face her.
“There could be. I got some bad vibes from him when the deal with Powers, Inc., fell through. Some things didn’t sit right with me. I’ve had someone do some investigating on our Mr. Andrews, and I don’t like what I’ve found out.”
Melissa’s heart tripped. The only man that had truly interested her in years had been Clint. There’d been others to fill the gaps, even Clint’s buddy Steve. When she met Mark, she thought that she had finally found someone to take her mind off of Clint—permanently. Or at least until Clint woke up and truly saw her. Now she had a bad feeling that she wasn’t going to like what she was going to hear.
Melissa returned to her office, slamming the door behind her, the vehemence of her tirade toward Clint reverberating in her head. Her hurt and anger were so intense that she shook with its force. She swung back toward the closed door, wanting desperately to throw something. Then feeling totally impotent, tears of frustration and defeat filled her hazel eyes.
Terri and Stacy sat in Terri’s office awaiting Mark and the accountant’s arrival.
Stacy took a sip of her coffee. “I just can’t believe that all of this was going on right under our noses.”
“Neither can I,” Terri replied, the soft lilt of her voice laden with regret.
Stacy shook her head just as Andrea peeked in the door.
“Ms. Powers, Mr. Pierce is here, and Mark just arrived. Should I buzz him?”
“Yes. But tell him to wait about ten minutes. Send Al in now.”
“Who gave you authorization to allocate all of this money, Al?” Terri demanded, tossing the stack of check releases across the conference table.
Al Pierce swallowed and adjusted his glasses. He made a small showing of reviewing the documents in front of him. “Why, you did,” he replied after several moments.
“In all of the years that we’ve been dealing with each other, when have I ever given you verbal instructions? Every transaction has been clearly written by me. Is that correct?”
“Yes. However, Mr. Andrews said that they were your instructions.” He fidgeted in his seat, uncomfortable under her steady gaze.
“How much was he paying you to maintain two sets of books, Mr. Pierce?” she quizzed, throwing him totally off guard.
“I…I don’t know what you mean,” he mumbled, raking a nervous hand through his thick gray hair. “Certainly you don’t think that—”
“Think what—that you and Mark were behind-the-scenes, undermining me for personal gain?” Her voice rose. “Is that what you think is on my mind?”
“Ms. Powers,” he stood abruptly. “I resent the implication.”
“Resent whatever you want, Al. You’re through! And if I have anything to do with it, the only things you’re ever going to add up again are cash-register receipts,” she spat. “Now get out of my sight and out of my office.”
Al Pierce gathered up his belongings. “If you think that I’m your only problem, then you have more of a problem than you can imagine.” He threw a cursory glance in Stacy’s direction and stalked out the door.
“What was that supposed to mean?” Stacy asked.
“I really don’t know. More than likely it was an idle comment.” But silently she wondered if it were that simple. She inhaled deeply. “Now for round two,” she said, her tone morose. “I think it would be best if I handled this one alone.” She crossed her arms with resolve.
“Are you sure?”
Terri nodded gloomily. “If I need you for anything, I’ll send Andrea for you.”
Stacy rose reluctantly and slowly approached Terri, who stood as if cast in stone. “Listen,” she began softly, “it all looks real bleak right now. But everything is going to work out.”
“Sure,” she whispered. “On your way out tell Andrea she can buzz Mark now.”
They stood facing each other like two gladiators waiting for the signal to attack.
“I’ve had the misfortune of going over your records,” Terri began, pacing her words evenly. “It’s amazing how yours are so different from mine,” she added with sarcasm. “You’ve tried to destroy me,” she said, her voice edged in granite. “No wonder you were so hell-bent on sealing the contract with Hightower. You needed the money to cover up what you’d done before I found out.”
“You brought it on yourself,” he tossed back in a malevolent tone that chilled her.
“What? You—with the help of Al Pierce—systematically set out to ruin this company. A company that I put together.” She counted off his misdeeds on her fingers. “You sabotaged contracts, made us lose potential deals, lined your own pockets and God knows what else. Then you have the gall to stand there and tell me that I brought it on myself! Do you hate me so much that you’d risk ruining this company and me as well as your own name in this industry?”
“Yes!” he shouted. “You’ll never know how much. You with your holier-than-thou attitude. The woman who could do no wrong. This is no more than what you deserve. I was the one left with the crumbs of your success.”
“Crumbs!” Her indignation came full circle. “You’ve always been a part of the success, Mark.”
He chuckled. “But it was always Terri this and Terri that,” he mimicked in a singsong voice. His face twisted into an ugly mask. “Terri Powers received the accolades, her name in the papers—not me.” He jabbed a finger at his chest, glowering at her.
“So that’s what it all boils down to, does it? You can’t stomach working with a woman who has made it.”
He looked away, clenching his jaw. “You’re not a woman. If you were, you could’ve kept your husband and your baby!”
His personal attack stabbed her. She fought for control as nausea threatened to overtake her. “Not the kind of woman you expected me to be,” she said smoothly, camouflaging her hurt. “I want you out of here within the hour. Security will oversee your departure.” She turned her back to him, her spine rigid.
Mark tossed her a hate-filled stare. “You’ve had your time to shine. I’ll guarantee you that I’ll have mine, as well.” He turned toward the door then stopped. “I was willing to risk anything to make you know how it feels to be forgotten. Now that you know everything,” he paused, “you won’t ever forget me again.” He stormed out of the office, leaving the door swinging on its hinges.
For several moments Terri stood in the tension-filled silence that permeated the air. Finally she let out a breath that she didn’t realize she’d held, and a tremor raced through her. She lowered her head, feeling weak and beaten.
She’d always prided herself on being fair to everyone. Or at least she’d thought so. How could she have not seen what was happening to Mark? She’d been so wrapped up in her own personal problems over the past months that she’d been blind to what was going on, allowing Mark free rein with the company. He’d used that trust against her.
His painful words rushed back at her, and her resentment and hurt resurfaced. No one could ever begin to imagine the pain and worthlessness that she’d felt. She’d shared her private hell with no one, and she wasn’t sure if she ever could.
But she could not let it immobilize her. She forced her body to move, her mind to work. She still had work to do. It was time that she reclaimed control of her life, for better or worse.
Snatching her coat from the rack and putting her purse under her arm, she walked purposefully out of the office, stopping briefly at Andrea’s desk.
“I’ll be away from the office for the balance of the day. Any problems, call Stacy. She’ll know what to do. Oh, and security will be escorting Mr. Andrews out of the building.”
“Yes, Ms. Powers.”
Terri stood in front of the elevator, her face resolute, her spirit determined. Her next stop was the offices of Hightower Enterprises.
Chapter 6
Clint had just hung up the phone when his secretary buzzed him on the intercom.
“Yes, Pat?”
“Mr. Steele, there’s a Ms. Powers here to see you.”
Clint’s heart stirred with excitement. “Send her right in.”
Quickly he stood up and put on his navy blue blazer and straightened his blue paisley tie. He approached the door just as Terri entered.
His full lips curved into an unconscious smile and widened in silent approval as he took in her regal, dark beauty. Her hair was swept away from her face, held in place by a wide headband, highlighting those large earthy brown eyes. The winter-white cashmere coat was flung open, revealing the flowing dress that gently brushed her curves.
He ached to take her in his arms, but his smile slowly dissolved when he saw the shadow of despair hovering in her eyes.
Immediately he crossed the room to where she stood, ready to do battle with whoever had crossed her.
“Terri, what is it?”
She took a deep breath. “May I sit down?”
“Sure.” He pulled up a high-back chair for her, one for himself and sat down in front of her, his arms braced on his muscled thighs as he leaned forward.
She looked across at him, hesitant at first, but then decided to plunge right in. “I fired Mark today, along with the accountant,” she said in a monotone.
Briefly Clint lowered his head, nodding in a way that let her know he understood. He looked up, his gaze holding hers. “I’ve had to fire my share of employees over the years, and it’s never easy, especially under these circumstances. You not only feel guilt, you feel betrayed,” he added softly.
Terri felt the weight slowly ease from her chest. She didn’t realize until that moment how much she needed him to understand and not see her as weak and ineffectual.
“I take it Mark was the man behind-the-scenes all along?”
Terri nodded, a feeling of humiliation whipping through her, but her face remained resolute.
Clint easily saw through the facade of control. Once again he felt the overpowering need to take her in his arms, to protect her. But he sensed that wasn’t what she needed or would accept. At least not now. That was one thing he was gradually learning about her—she did things in her own way, in her own time, without fanfare.
“Is there anything that I can do?”
She looked across at him, a weak smile tugging at her polished lips. “You could accept my apology.”
His thick brows knitted. “Apology? For what?”
“For misjudging you. For doubting your sincerity. It’s not like me to doubt people.”
“Don’t lose that part of yourself, Terri,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “That’s what makes you the wonderful woman that you are.”
She looked away as though searching for words, then chuckled mirthlessly. “That’s part of my problem. Being too trusting at the wrong times.” She sighed deeply and Clint waited, knowing that she needed this time to come to a decision. One that would change the direction of their relationship. Then, as if a dam had sprung a leak, she slowly began to reveal bits and pieces of her failed marriage, her retreat from relationships as a result of Alan’s infidelities and her recent revelations about Clint.
The one thing that she left out was the loss of her baby, Clint noticed, a subject that must still be too painful to discuss. In time, he thought. In time. For now, he would treasure this small gift of trust that she’d given him.
“…I was so wrong about so many things, Clint. And I always believed myself to be a fair-minded person. I let my own personal prejudices overshadow practical good sense.” Her eyes leveled with his. “That was unfair to you. And when I did trust someone, it was the wrong person.”
Warily Clint reached over and placed his hand on top of hers, and Terri swore that if he said anything sweet she would burst into tears.
“Thank you for that,” he said, his voice a silken caress. “Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me. Just don’t blame yourself. You had every reason to believe the things you did about Mark and about me.”
“That doesn’t excuse my behavior.” She looked away, then turned to face him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What?” He knew what she was fishing for but refused to rise to the bait.
“About what you really do? Why do you allow the papers to print such trash about you? They have you portrayed as this vulture that would walk over anyone to get what he wants. They never print the positive results of your business endeavors and the good that you do for struggling black businesses. It’s despicable.”
Clint lowered his head, then looked across at her. He shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose I want to keep that part of my life private. My reputation as a hard-nosed businessman has allowed me the financial flexibility to make those contributions. Let the public think what they want about me. Inside—” he pointed a finger at his chest “—I know what I’m about. That’s what’s important.”
Terri nodded in understanding, pressed her lips together and slowly rose. She felt totally vulnerable now, having shared some of her darkest moments and being witness to a side of Clint that she’d believed could not exist. The combination of new emotions crumbled her fragile sensibilities. She began to question her sudden spontaneity with him, realizing that it was brought on in a moment of weakness. Instinctively her defenses locked into place and she turned the subject to neutral ground. “My main concern right now is getting the company back on solid financial footing. I owe that to my staff.”
Clint stood in front of her, catching a delicious whiff of her scent. He looked down into her upturned face. “How bad are things?”
Her smile was empty. “Bad enough.”
“Listen, I could loan the company enough funds to get you over the hump.”
Terri vehemently shook her ebony head, her locks swinging behind her. “No way. I got myself into this mess. I’ll get myself out.” Her voice softened, and her fingers splayed and stroked his arm. “But thank you. I appreciate the gesture.”
He nodded and his admiration for her grew.
Terri pulled her coat around her and picked up her purse. “We’re pretty close to clinching a deal with Viatek Studios. I feel very confident about it.”
“I’m sure it will work out.” His smile embraced her as he took a cautious step closer. “With you behind it, Viatek should consider themselves lucky.”
She didn’t trust herself to speak, feeling the heat of his nearness engulfing her. Instead, she eased away and moved toward the door.
Clint checked his watch. “Can I take you to lunch?”
“I’m sorry. I’ve got some things to take care of and I’m meeting a friend in about an hour. Maybe another time?” Her question was hopeful.
“I’ll call you—soon.”
She smiled. “All right. Goodbye, Clint.” She turned to leave.
Clint’s voice held her in place. “Terri.” She looked up at him, expectantly. “I’m glad that everything is out in the open. I hope that we can move on from here.”
She nodded in silent agreement.
But even as he said the words, the ache of his own hidden pain and buried truths burned his guilty conscience. He needed so desperately to open the doors to the feelings that raged within him. It had been so long since he’d shared the deepest part of himself with anyone. He wasn’t sure if he still knew how. For now, all he could do was watch her walk away.
Terri picked up her glass of sparkling cider and took a sip.
“So what are your plans for the company?” Lisa asked over lunch. In all of the ten years that she’d known Terri, she’d never seen her so distraught. Terri was one of the most decent people that Lisa knew and the best friend she’d ever had. Terri was the last person who deserved the things that happened to her.
Terri took a deep breath, twirling the delicate glass between her fingers. “Well, the first thing is a total review of all of the files and a revamping of the staff. Stacy will take over Mark’s responsibilities as of tomorrow. I plan to make an announcement in the morning. And of course I’ll have to hire a new accountant.” She gave a halfhearted grin.
Lisa nodded as she took a forkful of sautéed shrimp. “About Mark,” she began slowly, “do you plan to press charges?”
Terri tossed the salad in her plate. “I thought about it, Lisa.” She sighed. “But what’s the point? Mark has dug his own ditch. Word travels fast in our circles. He’ll never be trusted again. He’s finished. That’s enough punishment.”
Lisa was unconvinced. “If you want my opinion, I’d say to press charges against the crummy bastard. Cutting him out of the club isn’t enough,” she added vehemently.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Lisa doubted that Terri would have a change of heart. Terri may not have been good in displaying her feelings, but she never wanted to see anyone hurt, no matter what they may have done to her. Terri kept her feelings bottled up inside, and Lisa didn’t know what, or who, would ever make her change.
“So what’s the progress with the advertising campaign for Viatek Studios—moving on to a more pleasant topic?”
“I’m positive we’ll pull this off. If we do get it, I’ll have to go to L.A.”
“You don’t sound too enthusiastic about the possibility.” Lisa took another mouthful of her shrimp, her gaze full of question.
Terri hesitated a moment. “I was informed that Alan is being considered as the photographer.” She had painstakingly tried to keep Alan in the recesses of her mind. She and Lisa had agreed after the divorce that any mention of Alan was taboo, and she regretted that the door was pried open once again.
The fork stopped midway between Lisa’s mouth and the plate. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were.”
“Can’t Stacy handle this one?”
Terri shook her head. “No. Not really. Something this big I’d be required to deal with. There are contracts involved, and Stacy is not experienced enough in that area yet.”
“So how does Alan fit in? He’s not part of your package. You have your own photographer.”
“I know. But Viatek has him as a subcontractor. He’s worked with them before. And it seems that he’s made quite a name for himself in L.A.”
When was this woman gonna get a break? Lisa swore under her breath but gauged her words carefully.
“I know this may not be much of a consolation, but you’ve moved on with your life, Tee, and I’m sure that Alan’s moved on with his.”
“I’m sure he has,” Terri said, her voice dripping with sar casm. “Alan was always good for taking a situation and working it to his advantage…with someone.”
Lisa took a deep breath. “Terri, what happened between you and Alan is a part of the past. There’s no point in beating yourself to death about it because it didn’t work out.” Lisa cringed, remembering the countless warnings she had given Terri before she married Alan. He was a womanizer and as selfish as they came. But Lisa would never add salt to Terri’s still-open wounds by saying, “I told you so.” She had enough heartache to deal with.
“It didn’t work out because of me,” Terri said sadly. “Maybe if I’d been able to see past my own life and open up to accepting Alan completely in it, we’d be together today. And he wouldn’t have had to go searching for what I couldn’t give him.”
“Don’t be absurd! Alan was the consummate playboy, before and after you married him.”
Lisa’s temper rose as she fought to control the irritation that lifted her voice. She’d never told Terri that Alan had tried to make a play for her, too. That would have been too devastating for Terri to handle. She’d dealt with Alan herself, in no uncertain terms. She had the connections to cut the cords of his success with just one phone call. And she made sure that he knew it. It was months before he would even stay in the same room with her for more than a minute.
“My God, Terri, he had a part in it, too. A big part.”
Lisa saw the veil of hurt descend over Terri’s eyes.
“Listen, I’m sorry if I sound callous, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself. I’m your friend, and I’d do anything in the world for you. I can’t sit quietly by and see you tear yourself apart—especially over an SOB like Alan Martin.”
Lisa reached across the table and took Terri’s hand. Her voice lowered to a soothing whisper. “You’re a wonderful person and when the time is right, that special someone is going to see it. Believe me.”
Terri tried to absorb the veracity of Lisa’s words. She knew Lisa was right. Alan was a bastard. But she’d loved and trusted him. She’d almost had his child. That wasn’t something that you could just forget because someone told you so. Over time it had gotten easier, she had to admit. And maybe a special someone would be there to help her forget completely. A secret place in her heart hoped that the someone would be Clint.
Moments of silence passed with both women absorbed in their own private thoughts. Lisa desperately wanted to share the news of her recently discovered pregnancy with Terri, but deep inside she felt that the news would only add to Terri’s misery rather than make her happy for her friend. She’d discussed it with her husband, Brian, and he’d advised against telling Terri, at least right away. Reluctantly Lisa had agreed. This was the first time in the ten years that she and Terri had been friends that she kept something this special from her. The feeling left her empty and a little melancholy. She searched for something to say to ease the tension-filled silence.
“Were you able to use the information I gave you on Clinton Steele?” Lisa asked finally. She instantly noticed the faraway look that passed across Terri’s face and the faint smile that tugged at her lips. Interesting.
“Yes. Thanks,” Terri said softly.
Lisa’s brown eyes creased into a taunt as she leaned forward and ran a hand through her mop of auburn curls. “Come on, tell…tell.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Don’t give me that. I’d know that little smirk of yours any day. So?”
“All right, all right. Just don’t beg,” Terri teased, itching to tell her friend about Clint.
She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She began slowly. “Well, at first, I had real misgivings about him. Everything that I had ever heard or read was negative. Hightower Enterprises was notorious for buying up smaller companies, and that’s how he built his fortune—along with very wise investments in the stock market and profits from the companies.” She laughed a self-deprecating laugh. “Little did I know that Mr. Steele never took control of the companies, but helped to rebuild them for the owners. And when they were back on solid ground, Clint turned the reins back to the original owners if they decided that they wanted them. A lot of them didn’t, of course, preferring to put that part of their lives behind them—”
“It’s a shame,” Lisa interjected, “that the media never tells that part of the story. They only publicize the buyouts, but not the positive end results. If you hadn’t asked me to investigate him, I wouldn’t have known myself. He actually started out as a runner on Wall Street. He’s a remarkable man, Terri. Huge amounts of his profits go to the black colleges, universities and community organizations.”
“I know. The worst part is that I fell right into step with the bad press, eating up every word. And he never said a thing to me. He just let me believe those things about him, too proud to tell me anything different. He said he preferred to keep that side of his life private.” Terri sucked on her bottom lip, disappointed in herself.
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Donna Hill
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Is love worth the risk…An unhappy marriage taught Terri Powers never to trust again. Instead, she put all her energy into developing her inner strength and independence–creating the successful New York advertising agency she′d always dreamed of. Then she meets handsome, strong-willed businessman Clinton Steele. Try as she might, Terri can′t fight the sensual attraction between them–or the desperate hunger that fires her deepest passions……when everything is at stake?Neither Terri nor Clinton can ever imagine just how much is at risk. But when a stranger appears from Terri′s forgotten past who calls himself a friend–his deception could destroy everything Terri has fought so hard to build. Now two wary hearts have to persevere, as long-buried secrets put Terri and Clinton′s love to the most perilous test of all…