Книга - Daring to Trust the Boss

Daring to Trust the Boss
SUSAN MEIER


The magic of the Mediterranean…When accountant Olivia Prentiss joins Tucker Engle's company, she's unceremoniously demoted–to stand in as his PA! However, Tucker's not in for an easy ride. Olivia's worked hard to get where she is now, and refuses to bow to her gorgeous boss's commands–however fearsome his reputation.But soon Olivia begins to see there is far more to her boss than meets the eye. And on a business trip to Italy, she sees straight through Tucker's hard and proud exterior to a man with a far more vulnerable edge….







“You are a brave, funny woman, Miss Prentiss.”

She caught his gaze. “Olivia.”

“Excuse me?”

“I like it when you call me Olivia.”

He took a step closer. “Really?”

She shrugged, trying to make light of her request. “Everybody calls me Vivi. Sometimes it makes me feel six again. Being called Olivia makes me feel like an adult.”

“Or a woman.”

The way he said woman sent heat rushing through her. Once again, he’d seen right through her ploy and might even realize she was attracted to him—

Oh, who was she kidding? He knew she was attracted to him.

She stepped back. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

He caught her hand and tugged her to him. “I would.”

He kissed her so quickly that her knees nearly buckled and her brain reeled. She could have panicked. Could have told him to go slow because she hadn’t done this in a while, or even stop because this was wrong. But nobody, no kiss, had ever made her feel the warm, wonderful, scary sensations saturating her entire being right now. Not just her body, but her soul.


Daring to Trust the Boss

Susan Meier




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


SUSAN MEIER spent most of her twenties thinking she was a job-hopper—until she began to write and realised everything that had come before was only research! One of eleven children, with twenty-four nieces and nephews and three kids of her own, Susan has had plenty of real-life experience watching romance blossom in unexpected ways. She lives in western Pennsylvania with her wonderful husband, Mike, three children and two over-fed, well-cuddled cats, Sophie and Fluffy. You can visit Susan’s website at www.susanmeier.com (http://www.susanmeier.com).


Contents

CHAPTER ONE (#u4228688b-bbf9-5a30-8f08-b49adf54a4b3)

CHAPTER TWO (#ud715934d-331e-5a01-a527-50cb2775a7a7)

CHAPTER THREE (#uf48d61e6-c44a-545f-b30e-240aa4fc9665)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ucb44448f-a751-5c2b-914e-c99e20323684)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

EXCERPT (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE

“I’M OLIVIA PRENTISS, here for my first day in Accounting.”

The gray-haired Human Resources director glanced up with a smile. “Good morning, Olivia. Welcome to Inferno.” She happily flipped through the files in a box on her desk, but when she found the one with “Olivia Prentiss” written on the tab, she winced. “I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans.”

Vivi’s stomach dropped to the floor. “I’m not hired?”

“No. No. Nothing like that. You’ve been reassigned temporarily.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Tucker Engle’s assistant was in an accident last week.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She knew Tucker Engle was the CEO and chairman of the board of Inferno. Before she’d interviewed for this job, she’d researched the company and his name had popped up. But the company’s annual statements had said little about the reclusive billionaire. When she’d searched the internet, she’d only found an interview with the Wall Street Journal and a Facebook rant by a former employee who had called him the Grim Reaper because the only time he came out of his ivory tower was to fire someone. Still, none of that information gave her any clue what his assistant’s accident had to do with her.

“As the newest employee in the company, it falls to you to stand in for Betsy.”

Her already-fallen stomach soured. She had to work directly with a guy called the Grim Reaper by his staff?

She gulped. “An accountant stands in for a personal assistant?”

“You won’t be a personal assistant.”

Following the sound of the deep male voice, Vivi swung around. A tall, dark-haired man leaned against the door frame. Her gaze crawled from his shiny black loafers up his black trousers and suit jacket, past his white shirt and sky-blue tie to a pair of emerald-green eyes.

Wow.

“Or even an administrative assistant. You’ll be an assistant.” He pushed away from the door frame and walked over to her. “The assistant to the chairman of the board. The assistant who must be able to read financial reports and change things I need to have changed. An assistant who has to be able to keep up.” His lush mouth thinned. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Intimidation froze her limbs, her tongue, and she could only stare.

“Good.” Obviously taking her silence for acceptance, he headed for the door. “Spend the twenty minutes you need with Mrs. Martin to get your ID badge and fill out your paperwork then report to my office.”

He strode out and she stared at the empty space he left in his wake.

“He’s a whirlwind.”

Obviously, Mrs. Martin was paid to say nice things because Vivi wouldn’t call him a whirlwind. He was more like a bully. A really good-looking bully, but still a bully.

Bile rose to her throat, but she shoved it down again. She’d dealt with bullies before. “I take it that’s Tucker Engle.”

“In the gorgeous flesh.”

“He demoted me even before I started.”

Mrs. Martin shook her head. “It’s not a demotion. That’s what he was telling you. The assistant job is a lot more than you think it is.”

“But I need to start my real job now. I have to keep my skills sharp to take the CPA exam. I don’t want to fall behind.”

“You’ll be working with the Tucker Engle. The man who leads Inferno. You’ll see everything he does—learn everything he knows.”

That didn’t mesh with the picture painted in the Facebook rant, but it sounded promising. Like something she could cling to to force herself to be able to work with him. “So he’ll teach me things?”

“I don’t know about teaching, per se.” Mrs. Martin motioned for her to sit in the chair in front of her desk. She pointed to a little camera attached to her computer monitor. “Take a seat so I can get your employee picture.”

Vivi sat.

“Anyway, I don’t know about him teaching you, but you’ll learn a lot working with him. He built this company—”

“With help.”

“Help?” Mrs. Martin laughed. “You think he had help? Everybody who works here supports him. He’s the idea man. No one else.”

That did mesh with what she’d read. In the interview he’d given the Wall Street Journal, he’d bragged that he used only accountants, lawyers, PR people—support staff. He didn’t want, or need, an equal.

“Fantastic.”

Mrs. Martin smiled sympathetically. “I understand you’re disappointed. You see this as a setback. And I probably can’t talk you out of that.” She paused and sucked in a resigned breath. “So, I’m going to stop the sugarcoating and be totally honest with you. Tucker Engle is a suspicious prima donna. He gives assignments piecemeal so that no one can figure out what he’s working on. He’s so demanding that none of our employees would volunteer to replace Betsy—even for a few weeks.”

Her heart stuttered. “And you think I can?”

“I didn’t pick you. We gave Mr. Engle the files of the accountants starting today and he chose you. Like it or not, you’re stuck. But Betsy won’t be out forever. Eight weeks—”

Her eyes bulged. “Eight weeks?”

Mrs. Martin grimaced. “Twelve tops.”

“Oh, my God!”

“But you still get your accountant’s salary. And your time with Mr. Engle counts in your seniority with the company. It’s not as if you’ll be starting over when Betsy returns.”

“No, thanks. I’ll just keep my job in Accounting.”

Mrs. Martin sighed. “How good do you think it’s going to look on your employee records if you refuse your first assignment?”

“It’s not the position I was hired for.”

“Nonetheless, it’s your first assignment and if you don’t take it, he may tell us to fire you.”

She was really, really sorry she’d found that Facebook rant because she couldn’t even argue that. “Of course he will.”

Mrs. Martin’s face fell into sympathetic lines. “The other option is to quit.”

* * *

“The other option is to quit.”

Vivi muttered those words under her breath as she made her way through the maze of red-, orange-and yellow-walled corridors, looking for the private elevator to the executive office. She finally reached it and inserted the magic key card that would start the plush car, giving her access to the inner sanctum of Inferno. Which, she was beginning to think, had been named appropriately since this company really might be the pits of hell.

The doors swished closed and she shut her eyes. She was the toughest person she knew. She had survived an attack at university that had nearly ended in her being raped and the bullying that had resulted when she’d tried to prosecute the boy involved—the son of Starlight, Kentucky’s leading family. One grouchy, narcissistic CEO would not stop her from reaching her dream of being somebody. Somebody so important that the people back in Starlight would see that despite all their attempts to break her, she had succeeded.

They had failed.

And Tucker Engle wouldn’t break her either.

The elevator bell pinged. The doors opened again. Like Dorothy entering Oz, she stepped out, glancing around in awe. Contrasting the slick, ultramodern red, orange and yellow “fire” theme of the public areas, this space was superconservative. Ceiling-high cherrywood bookcases lined the walls. The antique desk and chair could have been in a museum. Oriental rugs sat on luxurious hardwood floors.

“Don’t just stand there! Come in!”

She pivoted around, following the sound of Tucker Engle’s voice. He stood in a huge office behind the one she had entered. A cherrywood conference table sat on one side, a comfy brown leather sofa and recliner grouping filled the other. A desk and chair fronted a wall of windows at the back of the room. The view of the New York skyline took her breath away.

She walked to the desk she suspected was hers, removed her jacket and dropped it and her backpack to the chair. Then she gingerly made her way to the grand office.

Standing behind the carved desk, Tucker Engle removed his black suit coat and carried it to a hidden closet. His back to her, he slid it onto a hanger, and her gaze fell to his butt. Perfect butt. His trousers were cut with such precision that they all but caressed him. His simple white shirt outlined a swimmer’s back. She could virtually see the ripple of his muscles through the silky fabric. If he didn’t do laps in a pool every day, he did something.

She swallowed just as he turned.

“What?”

She swallowed again. Add what appeared to be a perfect body to his dark hair and chiseled features, and he had to be one of the most handsome men on the planet. And he’d just caught her staring at him.

“Nothing.”

“Good. Because we have lots to do.” He sat and motioned her to one of the two captain’s chairs in front of his desk. “Anything you hear in this office is confidential.”

She bit her tongue to stop the duh that wanted to escape. Not only was that immature, but she had to work with this guy. For weeks...maybe months!

“I’ll need more than a dumbfounded look, Miss Prentiss. I’ll need a verbal yes.”

“Yes. I know about confidentiality. I took ethics classes.”

He leaned back. His shirt stretched across his muscular chest. “Lots of people take ethics classes. Not everybody has ethics.”

Her eyes narrowed. After two years of being called a liar—a girl who “claimed” she was attacked, most likely in the hope of extorting money—she hated having her integrity questioned. Fury surged through her, but she stopped it. Anger had never gotten her anywhere. A cool head and resolve had.

“I have ethics and I’ll keep your secrets.”

“Great. Then let’s start by filling you in on my latest project. It’s the reason I couldn’t muddle through the next few weeks with the help of only secretarial support staff.”

“Mrs. Martin said you wouldn’t tell me your project. That you’d give me assignments piecemeal so I wouldn’t be able to guess what you were doing.”

“Mrs. Martin is ill informed.”

“Maybe you should correct that impression.”

His eyebrows rose. “Maybe you should remember with whom you’re speaking. You don’t get to tell me what to do. Or even make suggestions. Your only job is to perform the tasks I give you.”

Embarrassment flooded her. Damn her defense mechanisms for clicking in. She might be proud of the confidence and courage she’d developed to deal with the bullies who’d pushed her around after Cord Dawson attacked her, but Tucker Engle wasn’t pushing her around. He was her boss. He was supposed to give her orders.

“Are we clear?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Good.” He rose, came around to the front of the desk and rifled through some files sitting in the corner. “Constanzo Bartulocci is looking to retire. Do you know who he is?”

“No.” The spicy scent of his aftershave drifted to her and her gaze ambled along his torso, down the neat crease of his obviously expensive trousers to his shiny, shiny shoes. If this guy hadn’t grown up with money, somebody, somewhere had taught him how to dress. “I don’t know who Constanzo Bartulocci is.”

“Of course you don’t. The über-rich have ways of keeping themselves out of the limelight.”

Well, that explained why she hadn’t found much about Tucker Engle on the internet.

He located the file he was looking for and returned to his chair. “He never married and he has no children. But he has two nephews and a niece, all three of whom claim to speak for him. Our first job is to weed through the baloney and see who really does know his plans. Our second is to get that person to give us the inside scoop so I know exactly what to offer him for his entire operation.”

“You’re going to buy a whole conglomerate?”

“Not your place to question, remember?”

“Yes. Sorry.” She drew in a breath. How was she going to deal with this guy? Rich, successful and good-looking were bad enough. But she wasn’t accustomed to corralling her tongue. Sometimes she even prided herself on being sassy—never letting anybody push her around, condescend to her, make her feel less than.

It would be a long eight weeks if she didn’t soon figure out how to keep her place. That is, if he didn’t fire her for insubordination.

He handed a file across the desk to her. “Your first assignment is to check the financial reports and records of all of our Bartuloccis.”

She glanced up into his bright green eyes and her stomach fluttered. The assignment was pretty much what she’d expected to be doing in the accounting department. So part of the flutter was relief. But the other half came from those striking emerald eyes. He really was one gorgeous guy.

One gorgeous, difficult guy, she quickly reminded herself. The difficult canceled out the handsome. And even if it didn’t, she’d gone this route before. Cord Dawson had been rich and smart. And in the end, he’d attacked her, nearly raped her. No matter how gorgeous, she wanted nothing to do with another rich guy. She wasn’t in their league. Didn’t know how to play in their world. It was a lesson she’d never forget.

Taking the file, she rose. “Okay.”

He returned his attention to the papers on his desk. “Shut the door on your way out.”

She gladly left his office. Closing the door behind her, she squeezed her eyes shut in misery. Even if she learned to hold her tongue, it would be a long eight weeks.

* * *

Tucker Engle picked up the employment application, college transcripts, private investigator’s report and reference letters HR had sent on Olivia Prentiss. He’d reviewed it all before he’d chosen her, of course, but after meeting her, he needed to be reminded why she’d been his choice to stand in for Betsy.

Excellent grades.

Reference letters that sang her praises as if she were the next Queen of England.

A Facebook profile without pictures of cats—always a plus.

A Twitter account that barely got used. So she wasn’t a talker, someone who might inadvertently spill secrets.

Private investigator’s report that showed only one incident that had happened her second year at university. A kid from Starlight had sued her for slander. But he’d later dropped the suit. Tucker suspected it was one of those young-love, he-said–she-said things.

Otherwise, she came from a normal blue-collar family in Middle America. Which, he grudgingly admitted, explained why she didn’t understand that working directly with him was a coup, not a punishment. God knows, he would have loved someone to give him this kind of opportunity when he’d been through school and starting out in the work world. But after years of moving from home to home as a foster child, he knew it wasn’t wise to get close to people he could lose. So, there had been no one to so much as offer him a word of advice when he’d finally started his career. Still, he’d been okay. He’d worked his way to the top—the same way the professors who’d written Olivia’s reference letters said she wanted to. Actually, she was a lot like him. Bright. Ambitious.

Unfortunately, she was a little prettier than he’d expected with her long strawberry blonde hair and her big blue eyes. But he would never get involved with a coworker. Plus, he didn’t get involved with women just because they were pretty. He liked his dates to have some class, some charisma and a lot of knowledge. Etiquette and protocol could be taught. And there might be charisma lurking behind Olivia Prentiss’s quirkiness. But knowledge? The ability to chat with his peers at a cocktail party or gallery opening? She wouldn’t come by that for years. Thus, she did not appeal to him.

Luckily, he hadn’t chosen her to be a date. He’d chosen her to write reports, change reports, analyze reports. Her high marks in her accounting classes indicated she could probably do anything he needed to have done.

Satisfied, he made two conference calls. Just as he disconnected the second, his door opened.

“I’m sorry—”

Temper rumbled through him. It was one thing to be clueless about the etiquette of an executive office, to need some experience. It was another to be rude and open a door without knocking. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know how to operate the space shuttle’s worth of computer equipment you refer to as a phone, and a call—”

He sighed. “You’re supposed to screen calls. I don’t talk to just anybody who phones. Go find out who it is. Take their number. I’ll decide if I’m calling back.”

Her mouth thinned. Her pretty blue eyes filled with storm clouds.

Fine. He didn’t like wimps. But he also didn’t like interruptions. And there was no better way for an assistant to learn that than by having to go back to her desk and apologize to a caller.

“It isn’t a caller. At least not a call for you. The security guard in the lobby is on the line. You have a guest.”

“Same instructions. I don’t see people who just drop in. Call the lobby, tell them to get the person’s name and if I want to I will call him back and schedule an appointment.”

“Okay. I guess that means you don’t want to see Maria Bartulocci.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

“Maria Bartulocci is here. She wants to know if you have time for her. I guess the über-rich don’t just know how to keep themselves out of the limelight. They also drop in unexpectedly.”

He replaced the receiver of his phone. “Tell them to send her up. Then get a notebook. I want you to sit in and take notes.”

She nodded and raced back to her desk.

Missing experienced, polite, sophisticated Betsy, Tucker ran his fingers through his hair. Two minutes later the elevator bell rang. He listened as Olivia greeted Maria and sighed with relief when she was nothing but polite and efficient.

Thick cloying perfume reached him long before dark-haired, dark-eyed Maria did. Tall and regal, educated at Harvard, and well-versed in art and music, Maria was exactly the kind of woman Tucker liked to be seen with. Arm candy with a brain.

“Tucker, how sweet of you to make time for me.”

* * *

Vivi almost gagged. Holy cow on the cologne, but calling Tucker Engle sweet? This woman obviously wanted something.

“I’m sorry for the wait.” He glanced at Olivia, then smiled at Maria. “A little miscommunication with my assistant.”

Vivi shook off the insult of that. He hadn’t told her any of his preferences, especially not about calls. But he probably assumed she knew those kinds of things, which meant she’d have another assignment that night. Not only did she have to figure out how to stifle her tongue, but she’d have to call her mom, a lifelong administrative assistant, to learn a bit about working for the top banana of a company.

“I’m thrilled you decided to drop in on us.” Tucker seated Maria with him on the sofa and motioned for Vivi to sit on the chair beside it.

She opened her notebook.

Maria smiled at her. “No need to record our conversation, darling.”

“Miss Prentiss isn’t going to record our conversation, just the salient points.”

Laughing, she patted Tucker’s knee. “Is your memory that bad, Tucker?”

He slid his arm across the sofa, and nearly around Maria. “There are three of you. I’m going to talk with all of you and compare stories.”

Her lips turned down into a pretty pout. “Really? You don’t trust me?”

He chuckled. “A man doesn’t get to where I am without having fail-safe mechanisms in place. Miss Prentiss is one of them.”

Maria’s gaze crawled over to her.

She took in Vivi’s khaki trousers and simple white blouse. Then the long strawberry blonde hair Vivi had put into a ponytail that hung over her shoulder.

“I see.”

A flush crept up Vivi’s neck to her cheeks. As if the condescending appraisal wasn’t bad enough, Maria Bartulocci’s tone dripped with disapproval.

Memories of walking down the street, being pointed at, whispered about and called names rushed through her. It had been a long time since she’d remembered that, but it had also been a while since she’d been with someone who so clearly disliked her.

Still, those bullies had nothing to do with her job, so she ignored the feelings, the memories. She’d learned lots of coping skills in the three years that had passed, and it would take more than a crappy look from a snotty socialite to drag her down.

Tucker said, “Rumor has it your uncle is considering retiring.”

“That’s not a rumor. It’s true.”

“Has he set a date?”

“More like a time frame. Next spring.” Maria rose. “Take me to lunch and I’ll tell you about your competition.”

Tucker followed suit, rising to stand beside her. “I know my competition.”

“Such a smart man,” Maria purred, stepping up to him and running her hand down his tie. “Let’s leave the little one behind and get ourselves a drink.” She flicked her gaze at Vivi with a laugh. “Really, Tucker, where did you find this one? And why don’t you pay her enough to buy decent clothes?”

Vivi’s mouth fell open. Seriously? A stinky debutante who was throwing herself at a man had the audacity to criticize her clothes?

Tucker caught Maria’s hand and led her to the elevator, leaving Vivi behind without a backward glance or even a nod toward telling her how long he’d be gone or how he could be reached in an emergency.

“I don’t care what my employees look like. They only have to be able to do their jobs.”

The elevator door opened. “I know, but seriously. Did you get a look at her?”

She heard Tucker’s voice, but couldn’t make out what he said or Maria’s reply. The door closed on his laugh.

Vivi glanced down at herself. These were her best trousers, her best blouse. And even she knew she looked like a street waif.

She might have coping mechanisms, but she couldn’t argue the truth. She didn’t belong here.


CHAPTER TWO

HUMILIATION AND DISAPPOINTMENT followed Vivi out of the city and up the stairs to the two-bedroom apartment she shared with her university friends Laura Beth Matthews and Eloise Vaughn. Because she and the Grim Reaper had worked late, she knew her roommates would have already eaten supper. The scent of spaghetti permeated the darkly paneled walls of the hall to their third-floor walkup. But she didn’t care. She was too tired to eat.

Short, sweet, brunette Laura Beth gasped as Vivi entered the apartment. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.” She walked to the refrigerator, which was only ten feet away from the sofa in their tiny, open-floor-plan living space, and pulled out a bottle of water.

Eloise, a tall blonde beauty whose wealthy parents had spoiled her rotten, laughed. “First day of accounting not fun?”

“I’m not in Accounting.”

Laura Beth patted the couch cushion beside her and motioned for Vivi to sit. “What happened?”

“Tucker Engle’s assistant was in an accident and no one else will work with him. So I have to be his assistant for about eight weeks. But that’s all I can tell you because “the” Tucker Engle might share secrets with me, so I’m not allowed to talk to anyone about anything that goes on in his office. Otherwise, I think it’s an ethics violation.”

Eloise and Laura Beth just stared at her.

Vivi squeezed her eyes shut in misery. “I’m sorry for babbling. I’m tired.”

“You’re freaking out,” Eloise corrected.

“You would be, too, if you spent twelve hours working with a guy you didn’t like, who has visitors who are obnoxious.”

“You didn’t punch anybody did you?”

Vivi took a long drink of water. “No, but I was tempted.”

“Are you going to tell us details or are you going to make us guess?”

“I already told you I can’t reveal anything that goes on in that office. Confidentiality and all that. But I will say this—I haven’t been treated so rudely in three years.”

Eloise and Laura Beth exchanged a look. “Bad things happened to you three years ago.”

“Exactly.”

Laura Beth caught her hand. “Maybe you shouldn’t have taken the assignment.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“So you have to work with a guy who reminds you of the worst time in your life?” Eloise sucked in a breath. “At least tell me he doesn’t look like Cord.”

“No and he doesn’t act like him either.” Cord had always been the life of everybody’s party. Grouchy Tucker Engle barely smiled. “But his one visitor today was exactly like Cord’s mom...Cordelia Dawson. The woman who thinks her son does no wrong.”

“You mean the woman who defended the kid who got you drunk and then attacked you. He would have raped you if you hadn’t gotten away.”

Vivi froze. They’d talked about this before, but never had Eloise been so blunt, so casual. Laura Beth shot her a warning look.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I think it’s better for her to talk about it than to let it fester.” She patted Vivi’s hand. “Right?”

“Actually, yes.” Before that morning, she hadn’t thought about being attacked in at least a year. All because she had friends who believed her. Talking, finding people who didn’t merely believe her but who’d hurt with her until the hurt was gone, had made her whole.

But she was in the big city now, not in Starlight, Kentucky, at their tiny university. She had to make this job work. “I can tolerate Tucker Engle and his obnoxious guests for eight or so weeks. In fact, I’ll do more than tolerate them. I’ll be the best damned assistant he’s ever had. Then when his real assistant returns I’ll go to Accounting where I belong.”

Eloise said, “That’s the spirit.”

Laura Beth patted her hand. “How about if I reheat the leftover spaghetti?”

“No thanks.” Vivi rose from the sofa. “I’m exhausted. I think I’ll just go to bed.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. My past is behind me.” She forced a smile. “Plus, if tomorrow’s anything like today, I’ll need all the rest I can get.”

After washing her face and changing into pajamas, she crawled into her twin bed beside Laura Beth’s, pulled out her cell phone and hit speed dial.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Vivi? What time is it?”

“It’s around ten. Did I wake you?”

“No, but if I don’t get out of bed, I’ll wake your father.” There was a quiet pause and the click of the closing of her mom’s bedroom door. “So what’s up? How was your first day at Inferno?”

“Awful. I’m not working in Accounting. I’m the assistant to the CEO.”

“Oh! That’s exciting!”

Unexpected relief unknotted the tight muscles of her shoulders. If her mom thought this was exciting, then maybe it was. “Really? I should be happy?”

“You’re working with the guy at the top. You should be taking advantage of the opportunity to make a good impression.”

“He’s kind of a grouch.”

“Most older men are.”

“Actually, he’s not older.”

“He isn’t?”

“He’s kind of young.”

Worry filled her mom’s voice. “How young?”

“Thirty-ish.”

“Thirty-ish? And he’s a CEO?”

“He’s the owner of the company. Which is why he’s so bossy. I read online that some of his employees call him the Grim Reaper.”

There was a silence. Then her mom said, “I don’t like this.”

Drat. She should have realized her overprotective mother would be suspicious of any man under fifty. Since her episode with Cord, her parents distrusted every man who looked at her twice. Which was part of the reason she’d moved to New York. She needed some space.

“I’m fine. I’m working for him, not dating him. Plus, his assistant will be back in a few weeks.”

“A lot can happen in a few weeks.”

“Including that I could prove myself to him like you said I should.”

“I don’t know, Vivi. I suddenly got really bad vibes about this guy.”

“They’re the wrong kind of vibes. Mr. Engle has zero interest in me. And all I want is to be able to do this job.”

Her mom grudgingly mumbled, “You should be fine. Your grades were great.”

“I know I can handle the work. I just need to know some of the etiquette.”

Loraina filled her in on a few tips for answering the phone and not speaking unless asked a direct question, but she finished her remarks with, “You be careful with this guy.”

As that warning came out of her mother’s mouth she winced, realizing what was coming next.

“Your dad and I didn’t want you moving to the city. If you could be attacked in a small town by someone you’d known since high school...how the devil can you trust yourself to eight million strangers?”

“I’ll be fine, Mom.”

“It’s just that we worry.”

“I know. But trust me. This guy isn’t even slightly attracted to me.”

Her mother huffed out a breath. “You think. But you’re a pretty blonde—”

“Who doesn’t have the right clothes or makeup or manners to attract a guy like him.” She laughed, remembering the way he liked stinky Maria purring up to him. “Seriously, Mom. I’m perfectly safe with him.”

They ended the call, and she settled down on her pillow. Exhausted, she immediately fell asleep and didn’t stir until her alarm woke her the next morning.

She showered, headed for her closet and stared at her clothes. She had three pairs of taupe, tan or beige trousers, one pair of dark brown, one pair of gray and one pair of black, as well as seven or eight mix-and-match tops and two summer sundresses that she saved for “good.”

Her gaze rolled to her bedroom door. Across the hall was the queen of clothes. Eloise had everything from business suits to ball gowns. They were the same size. She could borrow a nice dress or a fancy blouse and probably fit better into Tucker Engle’s world—

No, damn it. She refused to let some condescending socialite bully her into trying to be somebody she wasn’t. She was a simple girl. Someone who wanted to prove herself based on her skills and abilities, not her looks. And after her mother’s reminder that she should take advantage of this time to prove herself, she’d decided that’s how she’d endure these eight weeks. She’d prove herself with her work. Not dress like somebody she wasn’t.

* * *

When the elevator door outside Tucker’s office door opened, he glanced up and saw Olivia Prentiss entering. Today she wore gray trousers with a gray blazer and some kind of clunky sandals. He stifled a laugh. After the way Maria had treated her, he’d wondered if she’d change the way she dressed. He gave her credit for not buckling under to Maria’s insults. In fact, he gave her points for that. He hadn’t hired her to be pretty or fashionable. They had work to do.

He hung up his phone and walked to the outer office. “Good morning, Miss Prentiss.”

She slid her worn backpack to her chair. “Good morning.”

Her soft voice told him she didn’t want to be here. If she stayed this unhappy, it was going to be a long eight weeks.

He headed for his desk. “We have a busy day today.”

She followed him. “Should I get a notebook?”

“No.” He paused for a second then made up his mind. Working for him had its boring elements. But he also did some fun things. Maybe if he took her to his signing that morning, she’d see the value of being his assistant. “I need you to study certain files before we go to a meeting.”

“We’re going out?”

He fell to his chair. “Yes. I’m signing papers this morning to buy a controlling interest in a startup.”

Her eyes lit. “Really?”

A zing of pleasure ricocheted through him. He wasn’t the kind of guy who needed his employees to be daft with joy all the time. But he did love enthusiasm. And he had made her smile. Which was probably the reason for the zing. Her whole beautiful face lit when she smiled.

“I don’t want any snags. So, just in case, I want you and Betsy’s laptop with me.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“If there’s a question or a problem and I need information, you must be able to find the document and the information in the document.”

“From the laptop?”

“Yes.” He leaned back in his chair. “I don’t keep my files in the company network. It’s all in that laptop or my personal internet storage. Betsy had a very simple filing system. You should be able to figure it out quickly. Everything is in a folder called Jason. There will be subfolders under that with names like Legal Documents, Agreement, Financials, Personal. Peruse everything. Get familiar enough that you can find what I need when I need it.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“As I said, I don’t think there will be a problem. The agreements are already written and preliminarily approved. But just in case.”

She nodded and left the room. He stared after her. Her pretty pink top outlined a slim torso. The gray trousers hugged a shapely bottom. Today her long hair cascaded down her back, a shiny strawberry blonde waterfall.

Even dressed like an office worker, she was a knockout. But something was definitely off about this woman. He understood that with her blue-collar background she wasn’t quite as classy as most of the women he knew. But that wasn’t it. There was something more. She was too cautious.

Shaking his head, he went back to his call list. As long as she did her work, whatever was wrong with her wasn’t any of his business.

* * *

Vivi spent the next hour skimming files, agreements, financial reports.

A little after ten, Tucker came out of his office, carrying a briefcase. “My car is waiting.”

Anticipation stole through her. She probably should have been embarrassed to be so thrilled, but Tucker Engle made superstars out of upstarts, and she would be at one of his agreement signings. She would see what he said, how he behaved. If nothing else, she would see a sharp, savvy guy in action.

They rode down in the private elevator in silence. With the strap of the laptop case over her shoulder and standing straight as an arrow in her gray pants and blazer, she felt like an executive.

The elevator door opened and she followed Tucker Engle to the revolving door and the waiting black limo. He motioned her in first and she slid across the plush leather seat. He sat beside her.

Her blood virtually hummed with joy, but a knot of fear shadowed it. She’d found the files, familiarized herself with the agreements, the background financials and the sub-agreements over things like whose name would be where as well as the side perks given to the two founders of Jason Jones, a search engine that did simple background checks for real people. She was as ready as she’d ever be.

“Jason Jones is an interesting concept.”

Vivi couldn’t believe she’d actually spoken, but her excitement had gotten the better of her. And now Tucker Engle would reprimand her.

But he surprised her by chuckling. “When I heard about it, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it myself.”

“You think you should have come up with it?”

He shrugged. “I would have liked to have thought of it.” He peeked at her. “But the best inventions come from ordinary people.”

“Really?”

“Yes. People with problems get frustrated looking for answers and sometimes invent or create something with universal appeal.”

She nodded.

“Take our startup for instance. Jason Jones is the code name for a private investigator who followed the ex-girlfriend of one of the founders, watching her until he found sufficient evidence to have her convicted of stalking.”

She gasped. “One of the founders was stalked?”

“The woman nearly ruined Ricky’s life until he realized he had to be proactive and hire a private investigator. The fees were exorbitant. Ricky knew he could have avoided the whole mess if he’d been able to search her on the internet before he asked her out.”

“But he could have done that.”

“No. He could have done a search but not necessarily gotten access to the information that would have saved him. He investigated the systems and Elias Greene wrote the programs. Now innocent men and women everywhere will be able to know a prospective date’s complete history for fifty bucks and the click of a few keys.”

“Amazing.”

“Which is exactly why with my help the company will eventually be worth about a hundred million dollars.”

The limo rolled to a stop in front of a shiny glass-and-chrome building. They rode to the penthouse in another private elevator, which opened onto a living room. Electric-blue chairs angled beside a black leather-and-chrome sofa, which sat on a modern print rug. A wet bar took up the entire left wall. Huge windows at the back of the room let in the June sunshine as they displayed another fantastic view of the New York City skyline.

Olivia’s breath stuttered. She couldn’t believe she was here. Not just in a fantastic city, but part of a huge financial deal. Maybe working with Tucker Engle wouldn’t be so bad after all?

Two men bounced off the sofa and raced to greet Tucker.

“Hey, Tuck.” The first one—a guy who was a lot older than she’d expected, extended his hand. “Big day for us.”

“A big day for all of us,” Tucker agreed. He motioned to Vivi. “My assistant, Miss Prentiss.”

He shook her hand. “I’m Rick Langley.” With black hair and silky brown eyes, he was gorgeous. She could understand how he’d meet a woman who wouldn’t want to let him go. “The guy with the good fortune to be stalked.”

She laughed.

“And I’m Elias Greene.”

Vivi shook his hand, surprised when he gave an extra squeeze before releasing her.

Rick bounded to the bar. “Do you want a drink while we wait for our perpetually late lawyers?”

“Miss Prentiss and I are good.” He turned to Vivi. “Unless you’d like a water?”

She smiled her appreciation. In one easy sentence, he’d gotten her out of a potentially uncomfortable situation. He really, really wasn’t so bad.

She faced Ricky. “Water would be great, thanks. I’d also love a place to set up the laptop.”

Elias raced over and took the laptop from her hands. “We’re using the dining table as our conference table.”

“Sounds great.”

Tucker directed her to follow Elias to the table. When she reached it, he pulled out her chair. Ricky handed her a bottle of water as Elias sat beside her.

“So where are you from?”

She cleared her throat. “Kentucky.”

“No kidding?” Elias smiled broadly. “Are you a farm girl or something?”

She laughed. “No. I grew up in a small town.”

“I’d love to hear about small-town life, if you’d like to have dinner.... Maybe tonight?”

She stared at him. He was serious? Asking her out in front of her boss? But, worse, he was a stranger. And he was asking her out—

She hadn’t been out with anyone since Cord.

Heat filled her. She wasn’t freakishly afraid of men or dating. After the attack, she’d simply focused on getting her degree. She’d also become selective—too selective to go out with a guy she didn’t know.

She drew in a slow breath. “I’m sorry but I don’t date people I don’t know.”

Ricky laughed. “You could always run him through Jason Jones.”

She laughed, too, though Elias’s proximity suddenly shot shivers of fear through her. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, she chalked his enthusiasm up to excitement over the big, big deal represented by the agreement he was about to sign. But that didn’t make his nearness any less overwhelming.

She rose. “Could you direct me to the powder room?”

Elias popped off his chair. “Sure. It’s right back along this hall.”

Her nerves went on red alert as they walked down a long dark corridor. A memory flashed. Cord leading her down a dark hall. Her giggling. Him forcing her into a room. Her fighting to get away and eventually freeing herself. But she’d lost a shoe and her blouse was torn—

Oh, God. This was bad. She’d put all this behind her. Why was it coming back to her now?

In the half bath, she took a few slow breaths. In the quiet, she realized Elias reminded her of Cord. Not looks-wise, but personality-wise. A little too pushy. A little too sure of himself.

That’s why she wasn’t going back out there until the lawyers arrived.

She washed her hands, combed her fingers through her hair and realized she wouldn’t hear the attorneys arriving. Nice as he was being on this trip, even Tucker Engle would have his limits. He would be angry with her if she wasn’t around when they came.

With a deep breath, she left the bathroom and returned to the main room as the elevator door opened and three gray-suited men stepped out.

Relief stole through her and she quickly made her way to her chair and her laptop.

Laptop! She’d left the laptop containing all of Tucker Engle’s business information—information he wouldn’t even put on his own company network—unattended.

He was going to kill her.

* * *

Tucker watched Olivia with something akin to pride as she not only got herself away from Elias, but also stayed as silent as a church mouse through the entire signing. No smart remarks. No unwanted questions. Just a nice, quiet assistant.

When the papers were signed and after they’d toasted with champagne, which he noticed Olivia refused, they headed for the limo.

As the car wove into traffic, he couldn’t stop the compliment that rose up in him. “You did very well in there, Miss Prentiss.”

“I did nothing.”

“That was your job. You were there in case we needed you. Since we didn’t, remaining silent was your only job.”

She rubbed her hand down her thigh. “I...um...left the laptop unattended.”

“If I remember correctly, you needed to get away from Elias.” The memory of Elias ogling her sent a wave of dislike through him, but she’d handled him, and in such a way that there had been no scene and no resultant bad feelings. “And I was in the room. No harm done.”

“Really?”

The anxiety in her voice again struck that nerve that told him something about this woman was off or wrong. For a second he toyed with asking her. After all, if she were someone he wanted to do business with he wouldn’t hesitate. He always needed to know everything about his partners. But this wasn’t a potential business partner. Olivia Prentiss was a temporary assistant. A young, single woman. Did he really want to risk hearing about her bad weekend or latest breakup?

No.

He picked pretend lint off his black trousers. “As I said, you did very well in there.”

“Thanks.”

She hazarded a glance at him and gave him a shy smile. His instincts hopped again. Trapped by her pretty blue eyes, he sat frozen as the urge to smile back plucked at the corners of his mouth and an unexpected desire to flirt with her rose up in him.

Fortunately, that brought him to his senses. She was a pretty girl and like any normal man, he was attracted to her. But she was an employee. A struggling working girl who shouldn’t have to worry about her boss hitting on her.

This “attraction” he felt was purely sexual. The normal reaction of a man to a very pretty woman. Not a big deal. And certainly not something he’d pursue.

* * *

The limo pulled up outside the office building. Tucker exited first and offered his hand to Olivia to help her out.

She took it instinctively, then was sorry she had. Little sparks of electricity spiked up her arm.

Confusion rattled through her. She had been pleased that he’d treated her normally during the limo ride to the signing and again as they drove back to the office. But what she felt right now wasn’t boss-employee goodwill. These sparks were attraction.

Really? After Elias had just scared the snot out of her? Three years since she’d even been on a date, she picked today to be attracted to someone? Her boss?

But she hadn’t really “picked” anything. This feeling was natural, an instinct. And Tucker Engle wasn’t anything like Elias. He wasn’t sleazy or overly complimentary or all over her the way Elias had been, the way Cord had been the night he’d attacked her. Tucker was mature, savvy, handsome—sophisticated.

Sheesh, no wonder she was attracted to him. Personality-wise he was Cord’s polar opposite.

Fortunately, she didn’t think he liked her.

So her being attracted to him was irrelevant.

Thank God.

She slid out of the limo and stopped in front of him on the sidewalk. Their gazes caught and held. Her breath slid in then stuttered out as he just stared at her. His smoldering emerald eyes held her captive. Tingles danced along her hand where their palms touched.

Their palms touched!

Good grief! She still had his hand! No wonder he was staring at her.

She dropped it like a hot potato. “Um. Thanks for taking me with you.”

He stepped back. “You’re welcome.” He took another step away. “I have a lunch meeting. Don’t expect me back until two.”

“Right.” Without waiting for him to get into the limo, she turned and scrambled to the revolving door.

She would not be attracted to her boss.

She would not be attracted to her boss.

She would not be attracted to her boss.

That would be about as stupid as the poorest girl in town dating the son of the local rich family.

And she’d never be that stupid again.


CHAPTER THREE

AT NOON THE next day, Olivia called out “I’m going to lunch,” grabbed her backpack and hit the button for the elevator. But before the door opened, the phone on her desk rang.

Not wanting to further disturb Tucker, who’d come back from his business meeting the day before quiet and sullen and hadn’t spoken two words to her today, she raced to the phone and answered it. “Tucker Engle’s office.”

“This is Stewart, the lobby security guard. There’s a man and woman here who say they’re your parents.”

Heat flooded her face and her chest tightened. Her parents? Oh, Lord! Their overprotectiveness had now reached its legal limit. It was one thing to check up on her. Checking out Tucker Engle was quite another. How could they embarrass her like this?

“Mr. Engle doesn’t allow us to send anybody up to his private offices without prior approval and they aren’t on the list.”

She thanked her lucky stars for that rule. “No. Of course not. I’ll be right down.”

“Right down where?”

Hearing Tucker immediately behind her, she pressed her hand to her chest to still her thumping heart, hung up the phone and spun to face him.

“Lunch. I’m going downstairs to lunch, remember I told you that?”

“I did hear you say something. But that was before the phone rang.” He caught her gaze. “Who was on the phone?”

Manipulating the timing hadn’t worked. And she didn’t lie, so this was a moment of truth. Literally. “It was Stewart.”

Tucker frowned. “Is he sending someone up?”

Heat blossomed on her cheeks. “No. The people in the lobby didn’t have prior approval. So I’m going down.”

He turned to his office. “Get him back on the phone. I have time today. I can see whoever is down there.”

She stood frozen.

When she didn’t answer, he stopped and faced her again.

The warmth in her face intensified. “There’s no need to call Stewart. He told me who was in the lobby.”

His eyebrows rose.

She sucked in a breath. “It’s my parents.”

“Oh.”

Though it pained her, she knew she might as well go the whole way with this. “I have a sneaking feeling they’re here to meet you.”

“Sneaking feeling?”

“You know. A feeling that just sort of creeps up on you when you don’t want it to.”

“Ah.” He waited a second then said, “You don’t want me to meet your parents?”

“No! No!” What else could she say? “That’s not it.”

“Then have Stewart send them up. If they’re here to see the city, I’ll give them my driver for the afternoon and they can go to all the sites.”

Though that was nice of him, risking one meeting was bad enough. Risking a second when they returned the limo was insanity. They’d ask questions about his background. Want to know his intentions. Read between the lines of everything he said, making sure he wasn’t a closet pervert bent on hurting their little girl. Embarrassment and humiliation collided and turned her stomach. She could not let that happen.

“That’s way too kind.”

He brushed her concern off with a wave of her hand and headed back into his office. “Call Stewart. Send them up.”

With no choice but to obey, Olivia did as she was told.

Fortifying herself for the worst, she stood in front of her desk waiting for the elevator ping. As the doors opened, she didn’t see just her mom and dad. Her brother, Billy, and her sister, Cindy, stood beside them. Even before she was off the elevator, her mother reached out for a hug.

As her mother’s arms wrapped around her, she closed her eyes. It was really hard to be mad at somebody who loved you so much.

“Hey, guys.”

Her mother squeezed her even more tightly.

“I’m fine, Mom.”

As her mother released her, her dad caught her up in a bigger hug. “It’s just so good to see you.”

She laughed. “I’ve only been gone a month.”

As she said the words, Tucker Engle came out of his office. Her brother and sister froze. Her mom spun to face him. Her dad blatantly gave him a once-over.

* * *

Tucker smiled. He had this. If there was one thing he was good at, it was people. Let her dad narrow his eyes. He would still win him over.

Tucker held out his hand to shake her dad’s. “I’m Tucker Engle. Olivia’s boss.”

Tall and bald, Olivia’s dad looked like a man who labored for a living. His calloused hand confirmed that.

“Mr. Engle, these are my parents, Loraina and Jim Prentiss and my sister, Cindy, and brother, Billy.”

Billy also shook his hand. A boy of about sixteen, who appeared to be trying to be a man, he wore jeans and a T-shirt like his dad.

Her sister Cindy looked a year or so younger than Olivia and was nearly as pretty. Both Prentiss daughters had their mom’s strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. Cindy shyly said, “It’s nice to meet you.”

But her mom didn’t say anything. She caught his gaze and held it as if trying to see into his soul.

He’d never had anyone look at him that way before.

Her pretty blue eyes narrowed, her mouth thinned.

Okay. So her mother didn’t like him. He could fix that, too. “I’ve called my limo driver and instructed him to take you anywhere you want to go this afternoon. It’ll be much easier to see everything with a driver who knows the city.”

Cindy gasped and Billy said, “All right!”

Jim said, “That’s very nice of you.” He produced some bags with the logo of a popular Chinese restaurant on them. “But we were just about to have lunch. We brought enough for an army and we’d love to have you join us.”

Tucker smiled. “Thank you, but I was planning to work through lunch today. I have a meeting across the street at one. I thought I’d pick up something when that’s over.”

Loraina surprised him by hooking her arm through his. “Oh, now, you can’t skip lunch. And we can’t eat in front of you! Besides, if you really are giving us your limo for the afternoon, we owe you.”

He sought Olivia’s gaze and she shrugged, though her red face was the picture of apology.

He’d never had a family, so he could only imagine how embarrassing this was for her. Especially since her mother was already on the way into his office.

“This is perfect.” She pointed at the sofa grouping. “We can sit around the coffee table.”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d eaten Chinese food at that coffee table. He did some of his best business deals in that quiet, comfortable atmosphere. He’d never, however, eaten breakfast, lunch or dinner with the family of an employee.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t figure out a way to refuse them without sounding like he was kicking them out of his office.

Her dad put the Chinese food on the coffee table. Her brother and sister sat on the sofa and began opening the bags, looking for chopsticks.

Olivia caught his arm and pulled him back, away from her family. “I’m sorry. They’re just very comfortable people. They think everybody is a new friend.”

He drew in a breath. “That’s actually a nice philosophy.”

“I swear. In twenty minutes they’ll be gone.”

Okay. He could deal with that. Hell, he could deal with anything for twenty minutes. “No need to be so embarrassed or so hard on them. I love the food from the restaurant they chose and as your mom said, everybody needs to eat.”

She visibly relaxed and nodded, and his instincts jumped again. All along he’d thought there was something about her. Her family reminded him she was new to the city. Maybe even here alone. And if he got comfortable with her family, maybe she would become more comfortable with him?

He took the big chair at the head of things, reached for a carton of sweet-and-sour pork and dished some onto one of the throw-away plates Olivia’s mom had handed out.

“So what do you do for a living, Jim?”

“I’m in construction.”

“That’s wonderful.”

Loraina beamed. “He paid for Olivia’s schooling by flipping houses.”

“Wow.” That took hard work and brains, the ability to find a good house and spend only enough on remodeling that you could still make a profit when you sold it. He could see where Olivia got her talent with numbers.

“He’ll do the same for Cindy now.”

Cindy faced Olivia. “Are we going to get to see your apartment?”

“I don’t know. How long are you guys staying?”

Billy said, “Two days. We have to fly back tomorrow night.”

Tucker said, “That’s a short stay for such a long trip.”

All five Prentisses grew quiet. Olivia’s face reddened again. And again the sense that there was something he was missing nagged at him.

But Loraina brightened. “Hotels are expensive in this city. We’re just happy for the time we get.”

Olivia suddenly said, “Who wants an egg roll?”

Her dad and brother immediately shoved their plates at her, but Tucker suspected she’d craftily changed the subject.

When she faced Cindy, and asked, “Are you ready for school?” he was certain of it.

“I may never be totally ready.” Cindy grabbed a different carton of the food and dished herself a serving. “Billy made the football team.”

Olivia spun to face him. “Oh, my gosh! Shouldn’t you be at practice?”

Billy scowled.

Loraina said, “You can miss a practice or two. It’s not every day you get to see New York City.”

Ignoring Billy’s plight, Cindy said, “I was sort of hoping you’d take me shopping.”

Olivia laughed gaily. “Me? I can just barely dress myself. If you want expert advice, you need to take Eloise with you.”

Jim said, “I don’t think there’s time for shopping.”

Billy said, “You can shop at home.”

Loraina agreed. “You get better bargains there anyway. I saw designers on TV the other day showing how to make clothes from your local store look like big-city fashions.”

“I don’t want them to look like big-city fashions. I want them to be big-city fashions. Can’t we stay another day?”

Billy exploded. “No! I’m missing two practices already! I’m not missing three!”

“You and your precious football.”

“You and your precious clothes! At least some day football might get me a scholarship. What are clothes going to get you?”

“A boyfriend?”

“You don’t need a boyfriend!”

Both parents said that at once and might have made Tucker laugh, except Cindy’s next whine started a discussion that had all five Prentisses talking at once. Tucker had been in boardrooms where five people talked at once. He’d been in boardrooms where five people yelled at once. But this discussion—sort of stupid, but very important to the people talking—whipped around him like a tornado. He had absolutely no idea of what to say.

Worse, he didn’t think they cared or wanted him to say anything.

A feeling of alienation stole over him, which didn’t surprise him. In foster homes, you didn’t comment on another kid’s life or problems. You weren’t really family; you were boarders. He remembered falling asleep trying to imagine himself in a family like this and never quite being able to put himself into the picture. He couldn’t put himself in this picture either. Even though he was actually, physically here.

Olivia’s laugh penetrated his discomfort and he glanced from the arguing teens to Jim to Loraina who groaned and said things like “Settle down” and “If you don’t stop fighting nobody’s getting anything.”

He peeked at Olivia again. Her pretty face relaxed in her laughter.

Now she was happy and he was the one who felt like an outsider.

* * *

Olivia had never been so glad to see an elevator door open and take people away as she was to see her parents and siblings leave Tucker Engle’s office. He made good on his promise of his limo for their use that afternoon, but he’d been quiet through their lunch.

“Do you want me to go back to reviewing Bartulocci financials this afternoon?”

“Yes.”

He said the word while staring at the elevator that had just taken away her family and his limo driver.

A minute ticked off the clock. Then another. Then another. He just kept staring at that elevator.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

But Olivia didn’t think he was. Normally, he was a tad brisk. Formal. Even with Elias and Ricky from the start-up, two guys who considered him a friend, he’d been formal. She didn’t like this sullen side of him. “I want to apologize again for my family.”

“Your family is very nice.”

She winced. “My brother and sister fight all the time.”

He turned away from the elevator and headed to his office. “I’ve heard that’s normal for brothers and sisters.”

She scrambled after him. If this mood was the fault of her family, she had to help him get rid of it. “Heard?”

“I don’t have any brothers and sisters.”

He strode to his desk and bent down to retrieve a briefcase from the floor. He stopped so quickly, bent so quickly and rose so quickly, that Olivia didn’t have time to get out of his way. When he stood again, they were mere inches apart.

She caught his gaze. She could smell the vague scent of his aftershave, feel the raw maleness that drifted off him. After being attacked, she hadn’t often let herself get close to a man. Especially not someone as far out of her league as the town rich kid had been—as Tucker Engle was.

But he was so handsome and she couldn’t seem to step away, or break contact with his beautiful emerald eyes.

When she spoke. her voice was a mere whisper. “You’re an only child?”

“You could say that.”

Though they were talking about something totally innocent, electricity crackled between them. “You don’t know if you’re an only child?”

“No.” He took a long breath. “I’m a foster child.”

“Oh.”

He stepped away. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m fine.”

“Yes, of course.”

He walked around her and strode to the door. “This meeting shouldn’t last more than an hour.”

With that he was gone and Olivia let out her breath in a grand whoosh. A foster child? Her heart ripped in two. Not because he wanted her to feel sorry for him, but because he didn’t.


CHAPTER FOUR

WHAT THE HELL was that?

Tucker walked through the building lobby, pushed open the revolving door and stepped onto the sidewalk, his heart beating out a weird rhythm and his mouth dry. He’d told Olivia he was a foster child because it would have been odd to keep a secret that was a matter of public record. He’d said it as if it were no big deal, but having her parents in his office, seeing physical proof of how much they loved her, he knew it was. Eating with them brought back memories filled with scars that had felt like open wounds. Then he’d turned and there she’d been, right at his fingertips, close enough to touch, and damned if he hadn’t been tempted.

He combed his fingers through his hair and stopped to wait for the traffic light to cross the street. He could still feel the rush of heat that whipped through him, the swell of sharp, sweet desire. He couldn’t remember ever being this attracted to a woman—especially one he barely knew. But standing so close had all but made him dizzy, and holding her gaze had sent molten lava careening through him.

The light turned and he hustled across the street and down the sidewalk. He had a meeting with a few bankers who had a sudden case of nerves about the terms of a deal he’d offered to purchase a struggling manufacturing plant. They needed to be coddled. He couldn’t be distracted by an attraction that was out of line.

Ridiculous.

So far off base it shouldn’t even be acknowledged.

All he wanted from Olivia Prentiss was for her to do her job.

And he needed to do his.

Heading for the building lobby, he went over the terms of the agreement for Echo Manufacturing in his head. He’d crafted this deal with the precision of an artist. He wouldn’t change anything. He had to make the bankers see things his way.

After a two-hour meeting spent attempting to alleviate the concerns of stubborn autocrats with no vision, he was crossing the street again. As persuasive and charming as he’d been, they’d ordered him to totally redraw the offer.

Though that made him forget everything that had happened that morning, it did not make him happy. In fact, if fury were a living thing, his temper would be Godzilla.

His head filled with facts and figures, he entered the elevator to his office suite. He was so immersed in his work that when the doors opened he probably would have walked straight through Olivia’s office without even a greeting. But as the doors slid apart, the word gin! blasted him.

He stopped. There at Olivia’s desk, an empty Chinese food carton on his right, a cup of coffee on his left and a deck of cards between him and Olivia, was Constanzo Bartulocci.

Short and round in the tummy, but dressed elegantly in a tailored gray suit, Constanzo grinned at him. “Good afternoon, Tucker.”

“Constanzo?” His head spun. First her parents had arrived and reminded him of everything he hadn’t had as a child. Then she’d bowled him over with a little close proximity and eye contact. Then bankers had turned him down. And now the owner of the company he wanted to buy was playing gin—with his assistant?

He wasn’t sure he could handle any more surprises today.

The Italian jumped off his chair. “Sì! It’s good to see you!”

As Constanzo enveloped Tucker in a bear hug, Tucker caught Olivia’s gaze.

Her face reddened and she mouthed the words, “He was hungry.”

Constanzo released him. “Seven hours on a plane. Two hours in traffic to get here. Starvation and boredom were killing me.” He gestured to Olivia. “I hope you don’t mind that I begged your assistant to share her food with me.”

She grimaced. “We did have leftovers.”

His assistant had fed one of the richest men in the world cold Chinese food. Where the hell had his office dignity gone? Where was decorum?

“Yes. I see.” He smiled at Constanzo. “I’m glad she had time for you.”

Constanzo laughed. “I’m sure she had work, but your Vivi, she is generous.”

One of Tucker’s eyebrows quirked. Vivi?

Constanzo waved his arm in the direction of Tucker’s office. “Come. Let’s talk about these rumors I’m hearing that you want to buy me out.”

Excitement obliterated his anger over the Echo deal and the emotions left over from Vivi’s parents’ visit. If Constanzo was here at his office, eager to talk about his company, it could only be because he’d made the short list of potential buyers. He motioned for Constanzo to walk before him. “Lead the way.”

They headed for the door but Constanzo stopped suddenly. “Vivi, you come, too.”

Olivia squirmed on her chair. “Oh, I don’t think you need me in there.”

“Of course, we do.” He inclined his head toward the door. “Come.”

Tucker’s eyes narrowed. He had no idea why Constanzo wanted her in the room, but one didn’t argue with a billionaire who wanted to deal. “Sure, Vivi, come.”

Olivia smiled sheepishly and rose to follow them. Constanzo barreled ahead, but Tucker waited. Before Olivia reached the door, he caught her arm and stopped her just short of hearing distance for Constanzo. “Vivi?”

She shrugged. “It’s my nickname. If you’d asked, I’d have let you use it, too.”

With a roll of his eyes, he walked into his office, slid out of his jacket and sat on the sofa beside Constanzo. Vivi took the chair across from them.

Attempting to return the room to its usual dignity and decorum, Tucker said, “I’m thrilled to have you in town.”

“I like New York.”

“You should keep a home here.”

Constanzo laughed. “I intend to enjoy not traveling when I retire.”

Tucker smiled. This was the kind of conversation he expected to have with a billionaire legend. Not a discussion about leftover Chinese food. A feeling of normalcy returned, including the urge to pounce.

Still, he wouldn’t jump the gun. He’d continue the small talk until Constanzo brought up the subject of his conglomerate again.

“You might try something like staying in Italy for six months and living in New York six months.”

He waved a hand and blew out a “pfft” sound. “Retirement is supposed to be about no plans.” He stopped, smiled at Olivia, then turned his attention to Tucker. “Maria tells me you want my company.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I have something I want, too. If you get it for me, I will negotiate exclusively with you for my conglomerate.”

Dumbfounded, Tucker fought a wave of shock. “So there wouldn’t be a short list? There would just be me?”

“For a year.” Constanzo laughed. “Even you have to admit if we can’t come to terms in a year, then there is no deal. But we will negotiate fairly because I want to retire next year. You will find me amicable.”

Fighting a feeling that this was too good to be true, or that there had to be a big, ugly catch, Tucker asked, “What do you want me to get for you?”

“You and three others expressed interest in my company.”

Tucker had figured as much, so he inclined his head.

“I checked all of your financials, then hired a private investigator.”

Not surprised by the review of his financials, but a bit put off by the P.I., Tucker said, “To see who could come up with the financing?”

“No. To see who can bring my son home to me.”

Tucker narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t a catch. It was a trick. “You don’t have a son. You never married. You have no children.”

Constanzo laughed. “I see you did your homework too.”

“We’re both smart businessmen. There’s no sense pretending we aren’t.”

Constanzo slapped Tucker’s knee. “That’s why I like you. You’re on top of things.”

“Yet somehow or another I missed the fact that you have a child. Either that, or you’re trying to trick me.”

“No trick. No one knows I have a child. Thirty years ago on a very busy, very hectic day, a girlfriend approached me saying she was pregnant. Believing she only wanted money, I had her removed from my office. She never tried to contact me again.”

Tucker sat forward. “And now suddenly you believe this woman’s claim, and you want me to find this child you’re not even sure exits?”

“Oh, he exists.” He glanced over at Olivia. “I’ve found him. I only need you to bring him home to me.”

“Constanzo, I—”

“—Don’t usually get involved in personal family problems to do a business deal?” He laughed. “Is that why you took Maria to lunch on Monday and promised to do something about her annoying cousin?”

“That was part of prying for information.”

“That was her undercutting her cousins.”

Tucker couldn’t argue that so he didn’t even try.

“Antonio’s mother—the girlfriend I spoke of—died when Antonio was a baby.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out an envelope and handed it to Tucker. “He’s in Italy now, but he grew up in foster care in the U.S.”

Tucker’s nerve endings puffed out. Foster care. The son of one of the richest men in the world had been raised by strangers. Had gone to sleep lonely. And probably grew up resenting the dad who’d abandoned him.

Which was why Constanzo wanted Tucker to be the one to talk to him. Without even knowing Constanzo’s son, he understood him.

“Your investigation went a lot further than I would have expected.”

“Yes, and you should be glad because until I went back as far as I did, other candidates to buy my company looked more promising.”

Tucker said nothing.

Constanzo sighed. “You’re the only one of the candidates who will know how to tell my son he has a father.”

“You’re saying he doesn’t know who you are?”

“No. He does not.”

“And you don’t want me to just drop in and say, hey, it’s your lucky day, your biological father is a billionaire.”

He rose. “I don’t care what you say. I leave that entirely to your discretion. With the stakes as high as they are I’m sure you won’t make a mistake.” He turned to Olivia. “Vivi, a pleasure to meet you. I think you will enjoy Italy.”

About to rise, Tucker stopped. “You want me to bring Miss Prentiss to Italy?”

He glanced at Tucker. “Why not?”

“Because she’s temporary, only standing in for Betsy, and she doesn’t know anything.”

“This trip has nothing to do with what she knows. You’re buying my company. Even you don’t know the things I’ll share if you win the chance to buy my enterprise.”

“Even so, she should stay here so that she has access to things I’ll need.”

“We have the internet in Italy, Tucker.” He laughed. “Besides, I now owe her for her hospitality. I pay her back at my home.” He grinned at Olivia. “My cook prepares a lasagna that will make you weep.”

She laughed.

He faced Tucker again. “I’m hoping to see you at my villa in the next day or two. Particulars are in the envelope. Good luck.”

He left the room and though Vivi popped out of her seat, Tucker watched the realization come to her face that it was too late. Constanzo had already reached the elevator. He pressed the button and the door swished open. There was no point in racing out to escort him.

As the elevator door closed behind Constanzo, Tucker ran his hands down his face. Suddenly the Echo deal falling apart meant nothing. He had an opportunity to get Constanzo Bartulocci’s entire enterprise. But, to get the chance for exclusive negotiations, he had to integrate Constanzo’s son into his life. And he had to take Olivia Prentiss with him. Had to. A wealthy man like Constanzo Bartulocci didn’t do anything without reason. He might be trying to make it look casual that he’d invited Olivia along, but after a few seconds to let it all sink in, Tucker knew better. There was a reason.

“I’m not exactly sure why Constanzo wants you on this job, but from the fact that he so clearly handpicked me, I’m guessing there’s a reason he’s insisting I take you.” He motioned her back to her chair. “Sit down. Let’s see what’s going on here.” He ripped open the envelope.





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