Книга - His Marriage Bonus

His Marriage Bonus
Cathy Gillen Thacker


High-powered shipping executive Mitch Deveraux, Charleston, South Carolina's most eligible - and handsome - bachelor, was more interested in the status of his shipping company than in matters of the heart.But when the chief business rival of the Deveraux family offered his lovely daughter's hand in marriage as bait for a merger - everything changed. There was a time when Mitch would have done anything to unite the two companies. Only, now he wasn't so sure.Because passionate kisses, sensual caresses and waking up next to Lauren Heyward would have any man running straight to the altar for real. Could this playboy's much-guarded heart be in danger of a hostile takeover…?










SECRET MEETING MINUTES

TO: Mitch Deveraux

FROM: Payton Heyward

RE: A “business” arrangement



Mitch,



Per our discussion, the Heywards and the Deverauxes have had a long history of duking it out in the marketplace in ever-inventive ways. Now, as our two shipping companies continue to battle for market share, it is unnecessarily sapping the energy and resources of us both. I’d like to propose a merger between the Heyward and Deveraux shipping companies—in more ways than one. If you and my daughter Lauren marry and join our families and businesses through marriage, then I am prepared to offer you half of Heyward Shipping as dowry. Plus, if you can keep this quiet from Lauren, there is a secret bonus in it for you….


Dear Reader,

What a special lineup of love stories Harlequin American Romance has for you this month. Bestselling author Cathy Gillen Thacker continues her family saga, THE DEVERAUX LEGACY, with His Marriage Bonus. A confirmed bachelor ponders a marital merger with his business rival’s daughter, and soon his much-guarded heart is in danger of a romantic takeover!

Next, a young woman attempts to catch the eye of her lifelong crush by undergoing a head-to-toe makeover in Plain Jane’s Plan, the latest book in Kara Lennox’s HOW TO MARRY A HARDISON miniseries. In Courtship, Montana Style by Charlotte Maclay, a sophisticated city slicker arrives on a handsome rancher’s doorstep, seeking refuge with a baby in her arms. The Rancher Wore Suits by Rita Herron is the first book in TRADING PLACES, an exciting duo about identical twin brothers separated at birth who are reunited and decide to switch places to see what their lives might have been like.

Enjoy this month’s offerings, and be sure to return each and every month to Harlequin American Romance!

Happy reading,

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin American Romance




Cathy Gillen Thacker

His Marriage Bonus










ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Cathy Gillen Thacker married her high school sweetheart and hasn’t had a dull moment since. Why, you ask? Well, there were three kids, various pets, any number of automobiles, several moves across the country, his and her careers, and sundry other experiences. But mostly, there was love and friendship and laughter, and lots of experiences she wouldn’t trade for the world.

You can find out more about Cathy and her books at www.cathygillenthacker.com, and you can write her c/o Harlequin Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017.




Who’s Who in the Deveraux Family


Tom Deveraux—The head of the family and CEO of the Deveraux shipping empire that has been handed down through the generations.

Grace Deveraux—Estranged from Tom for years, but back in town—after a personal tragedy—for some much-needed family support.

Chase Deveraux—The eldest son, and the biggest playboy in the greater Charleston area.

Mitch Deveraux—A chip off the old block; about to double the size of the family business via a business/marriage arrangement.

Dr. Gabe Deveraux—The “Goodest” Samaritan around. Any damsels in distress in need of the good doctor’s assistance…?

Amy Deveraux—The baby sister. She’s determined to reunite her parents.

Winnifred Deveraux Smith—Tom’s widowed sister. The social doyenne of Charleston, she’s determined never to marry. That’s not what she has in mind for her niece and nephews, though.

Herry Bowles—The butler. Distinguished, indispensable and devoted to his boss, Winnifred.

Eleanor Deveraux—The Deveraux ancestor with whom the legacy of ill-fated love began.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen




Chapter One


“Don’t you dare play innocent with me, Mitch Deveraux!” Lauren Heyward stormed the moment she entered Payton Heyward’s office at Heyward Shipping Company. She leveled a slender, accusing finger Mitch’s way. “I know what you and my father are trying to do! And it’s not going to work!”

“And what, exactly, might that be?” Mitch Deveraux retorted dryly. He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, but he couldn’t say he minded spending a little time alone with the young and beautiful shipping heiress. She was a sight to behold, in a fitted coral blazer, clinging white silk blouse and slim coral-plaid skirt that ended just an inch above her knees. The low-heeled pumps she wore were sensible but sexy enough to make the most of her trim, spectacular legs. And her beauty didn’t end with a knockout figure. Her golden-brown hair looked soft and touchable as it fell to her shoulders. She had parted it on the side, and tucked it behind her ear. Mitch had never been much of a touchy-feely guy, but as he took in the delicate, aristocratic contours of her oval-shaped face, he found himself wanting to run his fingers through the golden-brown mane and experience the shimmering softness of her hair for himself.

Oblivious to the overwhelmingly sensual nature of his thoughts, Lauren marched closer yet. “The two of you are trying to marry me off by proxy!” she charged as she inundated Mitch with an intoxicating patchouli perfume, and the clean, sexy smell of her skin and hair.

“Why would I want to do that?” Mitch deadpanned as their glances meshed and sexual electricity sizzled between them. He barely had a love life himself these days—he sure wasn’t taking on the task of trying to manage anyone else’s. Even if, up close, Lauren Heyward had the most beautiful dark brown eyes and softest lips he had ever seen, and was a very successful businesswoman in her own right with a professional savvy that reportedly rivaled his. In her personal life, Lauren Heyward’s father had told him, Lauren was a flake who’d already weathered—and ended—two engagements.

Abruptly looking as taken with Mitch as he inexplicably was with her, Lauren looked deep into his eyes and seemed to consider him for a long moment before she said softly, “That’s a very good question.”

“And one I’ll be happy to answer for you both,” Payton Heyward interjected as he walked in and shut the door to the executive suite behind him. A folder of papers in his hand, Payton moved behind his desk. The silver-haired executive was dressed in a black suit, sage-green shirt and tie. Behind his wire-rimmed glasses, his brown eyes were direct, his manner both disciplined and imposing. “Why don’t the two of you have a seat?” Payton directed, gesturing at the two chairs in front of his desk.

Lauren sat down—but only out of respect for her father. She had no patience whatsoever for what he was trying to do.

“I know dowries and arranged marriages have gone out of favor,” Payton continued pragmatically as he also sat. “But I got to thinking the other day that maybe it’s time they made a comeback.”

In your dreams, Lauren thought fiercely, ignoring the oh-so-handsome man seated beside her.

“Especially in cases like yours, where you are both from wealthy families and are both unmarried as you reach your thirties,” Payton continued.

“I’m only twenty-eight,” Lauren said, trying to ignore the delicious scent of sandalwood and spice teasing her senses. Now was not the time for her to be thinking how incredibly virile and sexy Mitch Deveraux looked. Or consider how his solid six-foot-six-inch frame would match up with her slender five-foot-ten-inch body. Sometimes men as tall as Mitch seemed awkward and ill at ease in their own skin. Not Mitch Deveraux. He moved with a calm deliberateness that radiated both strength and control. And probably, Lauren thought recklessly, made love the very same way.

“Mitch is thirty,” Payton retorted, giving Lauren a steady look that insisted she and Mitch would hear Payton out, whether they wanted to or not. “And twenty-eight is close enough,” her father added firmly.

“I’ve also been married and divorced,” Mitch pointed out.

Everyone in Charleston knew that, Lauren thought as she took in Mitch’s short, dark brown hair and arresting deep blue eyes. Mitch’s divorce from Jeannette Wycliffe had been both sudden and mysterious—to the point people were still speculating about the possible reasons for it, two years after it had become final.

“You’re free now, and so is Lauren, and that’s what matters,” Payton countered. “Especially given the fact neither of you is getting any younger.”

Lauren set her jaw and glared at her father. She had been under increasing pressure from him to do something about her single state before he did, and she resented it. “I’m not a spinster,” she said. And felt Mitch’s hot gaze slide over her from head to toe before returning with heart-stopping accuracy to her face.

“No, but you very well could be if you don’t settle down and marry and have a family soon,” Payton told her.

“I think we’re jumping the gun here a bit,” Mitch broke in peaceably.

Lauren would have been grateful to Mitch for that, had he not been hand-selected as her beau. Ignoring the unsettling way her senses stirred at his nearness, she said, “I agree.”

Payton frowned. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t have an open mind about this,” he said.

Her father’s feeling had been right. “Look, I’ve no doubt Mitch is a very nice person,” Lauren said.

Reportedly, all the Deveraux were. Although she didn’t know them that well, since she had gone to Charleston’s all-girls schools from kindergarten on up, and they had entered the city’s most renowned coed establishments.

“Not to mention he is very knowledgeable in the shipping business, too, since he is set to one day take over the Deveraux Shipping Company,” Payton interjected.

“Then I’m sure Mitch has a lot in common with you, Dad, since you run our family shipping company,” Lauren said patiently. “But Mitch doesn’t have a lot in common with me. I work in the real estate business.”

“Which makes it even more important that you marry someone capable of running Heyward Shipping when I’m no longer around,” Payton countered.

“That won’t be for years. And if and when it comes to that, I’m sure one of your vice presidents will be able to step into your shoes admirably,” Lauren replied passionately.

“I want family running this company, Lauren. Family protecting your interests. And since there is no one else…” Payton leaned back in his chair and let his voice drift off.

Lauren could see that Mitch Deveraux was beginning to look interested in whatever her father was about to propose, but as far as she was concerned, this travesty had gone far enough. She vaulted out of her chair and began to pace her father’s luxuriously appointed office restlessly. “I don’t care how much sense it makes on paper. Or how the family business might stand to benefit from a relationship between Mitch and me. I’m still not going to date him.” Lauren pointed at Mitch. Not even if you think he’s perfect for me.

“Not even for one week, if at the end of the week you get the historic property you’ve been wanting ever since you were a kid?” Payton asked, smiling magnanimously. Ignoring her look of stunned amazement, her father continued bartering with her smoothly. “I bought 10 Gathering Street this morning, lock, stock and barrel. You do what I want, Lauren, and it’s yours.”



LAUREN’S HEART POUNDED as the news of what her father had done sank in. The two-story redbrick Victorian mansion at 10 Gathering Street had white trim and green shutters. With sixteen thousand square feet and twenty-four rooms, it was one of the largest homes in the historic district. Sadly, it had fallen into disrepair in recent years. Lauren had lamented the neglect, and wanted to take it on and restore it to its former glory for as long as she could recall. Two things had stopped her. It was way out of her price range, and it had not been on the market.

She regarded her father cautiously. “You own that property?” she repeated slowly.

“Yes. And I’m prepared to give it to you outright if you agree to spend every evening for one week dating Mitch Deveraux. Marry him at the end of that time, and I’ll give you an unlimited budget to renovate and furnish it, too. Think of it, Lauren,” Payton continued as he leaned toward her eagerly. “You’ll be able to take that sad, neglected house and turn it into the showplace of your dreams.”

Lauren wanted to do that. She wasn’t prepared to sell her soul, her body and her hand in marriage to accomplish it. She regarded her father grimly, almost afraid to ask for fear of what the answer might be. “And what does Mitch get out of all this?”

To Lauren’s chagrin, Mitch looked every bit as interested in the prize as she had been. “I’d like to know that myself,” Mitch said.

Payton shot Mitch a man-to-man glance before turning back to Lauren and speaking to both of them. “If he agrees to spend every evening with you for one week, he’ll get what he’s been wanting. A merger between the Heyward and Deveraux shipping companies. The two of you have until 6:00 p.m. this evening to agree to my terms. Or there will be no deal.”

Although Mitch looked quite calm, Lauren had to struggle to keep control of her emotions as she regarded her father. “I can’t believe you are doing this to me!” she fumed, folding her arms in front of her.

“I predicted you would feel that way,” Payton countered as he stood and walked over to the minibar to pour himself a glass of springwater. But to Lauren’s dismay, her outrage didn’t change what her father was doing, or how he was doing it, one iota.

The hurts of the past came slamming back at Lauren. “It’s always business with you, above everyone and everything else, isn’t it?” she said to her father. She was so furious she was shaking.

“That’s not true,” Payton said, abruptly looking just as stricken and upset as Lauren felt.

“Isn’t it?” Lauren challenged bitterly. Tired of keeping her feelings to herself, she plunged on emotionally, “The bottom line is you’ve always paid more attention to your business than you ever have to Mom and me, even when she was dying. Well, I can’t forgive you for always putting your company’s interests ahead of your family, Dad,” she told him, her throat aching with the effort it took to speak at a normal level. “And I sure as hell can’t forgive you for this!”

Ignoring the hurt look on her father’s face, and the stunned look on Mitch’s, she grabbed her handbag, turned on her heel and stormed out.



“SHE’S NOT THE ONLY ONE who is shocked by this proposal of yours,” Mitch said in the silence that fell. He was damn near flabbergasted.

“I want my daughter to marry well,” Payton Heyward said.

“But to a Deveraux?” Mitch countered, filled with the uneasy feeling that Heyward was withholding every bit as much information from Mitch and Lauren as he was telling. “As you pointed out to me six months ago when I first approached you with the idea of a merger, the Deveraux and the Heywards have a history of duking it out in the marketplace—in ever-inventive ways.” Was this just another one of them? Mitch wondered. And if so, was Payton’s daughter, Lauren, not only one hell of an actress but now an active participant in the competition between the two firms, albeit in an unexpectedly inventive way?

“Well, I thought it over, and you are right. Our two shipping businesses’ continued battle for market share was unnecessarily sapping the energy and resources from us both. We should stop trying to outsell each other, agree to go after different areas of the marketplace and focus on simply increasing revenue in our own specifically targeted areas.”

Mitch remembered the meeting—and his own disappointment and disillusionment afterward—well. “Right, and even after I finally managed to convince you that my proposal wasn’t a trick to diminish your various accounts or overall sales, you still didn’t want any part of a formal no-compete agreement, never mind a merger between our two firms.” Nor, unfortunately, had Mitch’s father. Mitch looked Payton straight in the eye. “You said competition was the lifeblood of business and that your ongoing contest with my father and me was what kept you and your sales force on their toes.”

“And that’s still true,” Payton said matter-of-factly. “But so is what you said. Maybe it’s time we both looked at change. And the best way, the surest way, to do that is through you and Lauren. Don’t you see?” Payton returned to his desk and sat down, albeit a bit stiffly. “If you and Lauren marry and join our families and businesses through that marriage, it gives us an incentive to make the situation work fairly for both families and businesses. It’s sort of like an insurance policy that both sides will do their best to see that you and Lauren are happy.”

“With one exception,” Mitch corrected, his uneasiness only increasing as he looked Payton Heyward straight in the eye. “I never brought up the idea of either dating your daughter or marrying her. Furthermore, you just saw what Lauren’s answer to your proposition is. She wasn’t the least bit open to the idea.”

Payton waved a hand and countered confidently, “She’s upset. She’ll calm down once she’s had an opportunity to mull it all over.”

Mitch wasn’t so sure of that. Lauren had looked pretty certain of her feelings to him. “I’m not interested in having a woman forced to marry me for business reasons,” Mitch said firmly. Being married for what he’d thought were all the right reasons, and having that not work out, had been hard enough. He didn’t think he could weather another unhappy liaison, even if his emotions weren’t involved this time because the marriage was strictly a matter of convenience.

“She won’t be coerced into this if you play your cards right and convince her to cooperate,” Payton persuaded softly.

“And why would I want to do that?” Mitch asked.

Payton smiled magnanimously. “Because of the secret bonus in this for you,” he said.

Secrets were trouble. Mitch knew that. And yet the more curious side of him couldn’t keep from biting as he rose from his chair and began to pace. “I’m listening,” he said impatiently after a moment.

“If you can get Lauren to marry you, I will give you fifty-one percent of Heyward Shipping as dowry as well as the position of CEO during the transition period. I will control the other forty-nine percent until my death, and then that percentage will go to Lauren.”

“Which would leave me in control of the company,” Mitch said. And a huge chunk of the Deveraux-Heyward empire on his own. The idea of that, of having his own shipping company to run even before his father retired and turned over the Deveraux empire to him, appealed to him immensely.

“Naturally I’d want to give you every incentive to make this arranged courtship and marriage of yours work,” Payton continued, “so if the marriage dissolves, your fifty-one percent of the company will revert to me, and eventually, Lauren’s control.”

Mitch forced his attention to the problem at hand. “Unfortunately,” Mitch told Payton frankly, “Lauren won’t even go for the idea of us dating for one week. She’ll never agree to the two of us marrying.” Even if he wanted that, Mitch added silently to himself, and he didn’t think that he did.

Payton eyed Mitch thoughtfully. “That’s why this part of our agreement must remain secret,” Payton explained even more pragmatically. “Lauren doesn’t understand the shipping business and the enormous responsibility of running a huge company. She would not comprehend that I am only doing this to make sure that she and her financial interests are taken care of for the rest of her life. You, on the other hand, have already weathered a messy, ugly divorce. And no doubt know that passion is a poor basis for a marriage meant to last a lifetime.”

Mitch had already come to the same conclusion, and in fact, had been looking for a wife who would enhance rather than complicate his life. However, he wasn’t sure an overemotional woman like Lauren was what he was looking for. He’d had in mind someone a lot more sedate and willing to follow his directions. On the other hand, a deal like this—with such a lucrative payoff—did not come along all that often. Mitch didn’t want to pass it up. And that went double for the part of it that Payton had dared mention in Lauren’s presence.

Already beginning to formulate a plan, Mitch checked his watch. “You said I’ve got until six o’clock to decide about the merger?” he asked casually.

Payton nodded. “The deal requires you date my daughter for one week, starting tonight, every evening from 6:00 p.m. until midnight. I don’t care what you do. Or how you spend your time. As long as you spend it together.”




Chapter Two


“I thought I might find you here,” Mitch said as he stepped through the open front door at 10 Gathering Street and confronted Lauren, who was standing in the majestic front hall looking at the chandelier above her head. She had taken off her fitted coral blazer and looped it over the newel post of the sweeping staircase railing.

Lauren turned to regard him with a sweetly challenging look. “And I thought you might come after me.”

“Because I found you irresistible?” he asked, mocking her wry tone to a tee.

“Because you found the business deal my father offered you irresistible,” Lauren corrected, color filling her cheeks.

If only she knew what had been offered—in exchange for her hand in marriage—after she left.

“Don’t you think that’s a little like the case of the pot calling the kettle black?” Mitch questioned casually, shutting the heavy oak door behind him. He stepped closer, noting how snugly her sleeveless white silk blouse molded the fullness of her breasts and the slenderness of her torso, while revealing her well-toned arms and the sexy, rounded curves of her shoulders.

Lauren tilted her face up to his, looking all the more outraged. “What do you mean?” she bit out in a low, clipped tone.

Mitch shrugged. “You’re interested in the deal your father offered, too. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here looking at the house and wondering just how bad it would be to date me for one week, if at the end of that time you owned this showplace.”

Lauren shook her head indignantly. “Even if I agreed to that—which, by the way, I have not—I still wouldn’t have the funds to fix it up.”

Mitch had the strong feeling that now was not the time to bring up marriage and the huge financial bounty that would reap for both of them. Finding the interior of the house warm, he took off his suit jacket and looped it over the banister next to hers. “So you’ll earn them with the sale of your existing home,” he said, willing to do whatever was necessary to talk her into accepting the first part of her father’s proposal.

Lauren’s dark brown eyes flashed. “My house is already mortgaged to the hilt. I had to do that to underwrite the costs of restoring it to its former grandeur,” she told him impatiently.

“So you’ll wait a bit,” Mitch said, loosening the knot of his slate-gray tie and the first two buttons on his starched dove-gray shirt, “and sell it for a profit then.” Damn, it was warm in here! And rather musty-smelling, too.

Lauren strode across into the adjacent drawing room and went to one of the floor-length sash windows that fronted the house. She unlocked it and tried without much luck to push it up. “I’m successful at what I do, but I can’t afford the upkeep, taxes and insurance on two multimillion-dollar properties.”

Mitch joined her at the sill and easily raised the pane she had been unable to budge. “Surely you’ve got some money coming from a trust fund,” he argued, as fresh spring air, redolent with the heady fragrance of flowers, poured into the room.

Lauren went to the next window and unlatched it. “It’s all tied up in Heyward Shipping Company stock,” she said as Mitch helped her lift that one, too. “I own forty-nine percent of the company, but I’m forbidden from selling a penny of it until I’m fifty. Or become an acting partner in the company, along with my father.”

“That seems harsh,” Mitch commiserated, as another draft of fresh air poured into the room. He and his siblings all had trusts from which they could draw forth on a yearly basis, regardless of what career they chose for themselves. And though they all preferred to support themselves with their own efforts, the money was still there for whatever they chose to use it for, even if it was nothing more than a financial safety net.

“It is harsh,” Lauren concluded with a beleaguered sigh. “But then that’s my father. He wants what he wants and he doesn’t care what kind of machinations he has to go through to get it.”

“And what he wants is you to be an active participant in the family company.” Mitch understood that. His father had wanted the same thing from his children. Only Mitch had been interested in working alongside Tom, however. His younger brother, Gabe, had gone into medicine. His older brother, Chase, had started a magazine for men. And his baby sister, Amy, had started her own redecorating business.

“Right,” Lauren said as she inspected the elaborate, composition-decorated brass and marble mantel. “But I have no interest in the shipping business.”

That could be disastrous for the company she was inheriting. Especially given the rapid changes that were now happening in the centuries-old business. But figuring Lauren wouldn’t be interested in the impact the Internet was having on the industry, any more than his father currently seemed to be, Mitch let the subject go. “How’d you get involved in real estate anyway?” Mitch asked as Lauren continued to inspect the intricate frieze carvings around the doors and windows.

“I like houses.” Lauren ran her fingertips across the painted white paneling on the walls, disturbing a surprisingly thick layer of dust. “Love seeing what’s inside them. And helping find the perfect owner for each house.”

Mitch grinned as Lauren blew the dust off her hand. “Instead of the perfect house for each owner.”

Lauren pivoted toward him, her eyes alight with a mixture of curiosity and pique. “And your distinction is…?” she prodded.

Mitch shrugged, and seeing no reason not to be forthright, said, “I get the feeling you care more about the homes than the people who buy them.” There was a very real tenderness about her as she looked over the house and determined what it would need in the way of time and attention. It was as if she felt the people could fend for themselves—these lovely old houses couldn’t—their very existence rested on continued loving care. Which, sad to say, some home owners and investors obviously were not motivated to give.

Lauren released a short, amused breath. “That’s a very shrewd observation,” she volleyed right back, holding his eyes. “And I’d probably be offended if it weren’t so true.”

Knowing she wasn’t alone in her feelings of reverence for the historic district, but a little surprised she would be so candid about her emotions, nevertheless, Mitch asked, “Why do you feel that way?”

Lauren led the way back out into the hall, back past the library and the spacious and once-elegant formal dining room, to the kitchen. “Think about it,” she said as she walked into a room with uneven floors, no appliances whatsoever and only the most rudimentary of metal sinks. She peered into the pantry, which housed several outdated cans of sardines, a bag of rotting onions and two empty mousetraps.

Holding her nose, Lauren plucked up the mesh bag and carried the seeping mess to the metal garbage can sitting just outside the back door. She dumped it inside, then went back to the sink to wash her hands. “Charleston was founded in 1670 and it’s the oldest city between Virginia and Florida. The homes in the historic district have been here for several hundred years. They’ve weathered hurricanes and wars and all sorts of other calamities, and yet they are still standing, strong and proud. Homes like this are worth preserving.”

“I agree with you there.” Mitch opened a window, letting much-needed fresh air into the stuffy room, while Lauren knelt down to inspect the massive brick fireplace. “The historic section of Charleston is one of the most beautiful and memorable residential areas I’ve ever seen. And I’ve been in some of the finest homes up and down the East Coast. You didn’t grow up here, though.” Seeing she was about done, Mitch offered Lauren a hand up.

“No.” Lauren smoothed her trim coral skirt over her hips. “My father wanted to live in the country. So we lived out at the family estate in Summerville, where he still resides on weekends.”

Mitch knew the place—some forty-five minutes away. Payton Heyward’s estate was a magnificent property, renowned for its beauty and historical significance. “But you have a double here in the city.”

Lauren led the way down the hall to a series of small rooms that had once functioned as servants’ quarters. “You’ve been doing your homework.” She studied him with a mixture of suspicion and respect.

Mitch shrugged, turned and stepped back against the wall to let her pass in the very narrow hall. “You received a Carolopolis Award for the revitalization of that home when you were done with it. Everyone knew about it.” The historic town home, which was exactly two rooms across, upstairs and down, had been photographed and featured in the Charleston newspaper.

“What’s so special about this house,” Mitch continued, as Lauren smiled and led the way up the back staircase, “except for its size?”

Lauren slanted him a glance over her shoulder, her soft golden-brown hair brushing lightly against her pretty face. “It bothers me, the way it’s been neglected. The family could have cared less about it,” she continued as Mitch reached the second floor and began following her through a series of bedrooms, baths and sitting rooms, all seeming in equally bad condition. “They opened it to the public sporadically to raise enough money to keep on paying the taxes, but they didn’t bother to take care of it in the process.” Lauren paused to consider the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in the massive upstairs library. “There’s water damage all over the place, from leaks in both the plumbing and the roof. The floors, as you can see, need to be repaired and refinished. The kitchen is completely inadequate. And the whole house probably needs to be rewired from top to bottom.”

“And yet,” Mitch said as they headed on down the hall to the music slash ballroom, “you’re willing to take it on.”

Lauren turned to him with a smile as she walked through the spacious party room. “I could make several million selling it when I am finished.”

Mitch had the feeling if she ever finished fixing it up and restoring it to its former glory, she would have so much invested in it, she wouldn’t want to sell it. “Or you could turn it into a museum,” he said.

“Or a bed-and-breakfast.” Lauren opened the lid and fingered the chipped ivory keys on a badly neglected baby grand piano.

“Are you thinking about that?” Mitch grinned as her noodling picked up speed and the familiar melody line of “Heart and Soul” filled the room.

He took over the bass and joined her in an impromptu duet of his childhood favorite. “I can’t really see myself as an innkeeper,” she admitted, making a face, as they continued to play on the hideously out-of-tune instrument. “I don’t particularly like cleaning up after people. Tidying up after strangers is even worse. But you’re right, I could make it a museum.”

Mitch studied her as the song wound down to an end and they stepped away from the piano. “But you don’t want to do that, either.”

Lauren shrugged as she went to the window covered with moth-eaten velvet drapes. “A home this lovely deserves to be lived in. It’s been roped off for far too long as it is.”

She had a point there, Mitch knew. Still… “It’s too large a place to live in alone,” he said.

She gave him a look that let him know she had no intention of living the rest of her life alone. “I’ll get married someday,” she promised softly. She paused, a defiant gleam coming into her lovely dark brown eyes. “But I won’t do it because my father has auctioned me off in exchange for some business merger.”

Mitch leaned against the wall, facing her. “You’ll marry for love.”

Lauren lifted her slender shoulders in an indifferent shrug. “That’s the only reason to marry.” She paused, looking deep into his eyes. “But I can see you don’t agree with me on that.”

Mitch thought about what “love” had put him through. Feeling abruptly restless, he moved away from the wall, walked across the room. Hands braced on the frame on either side of him, he looked out into the spacious hallway, appreciating all over again how big and majestic this mansion really was, before turning back to face Lauren. “I think maybe your father is right,” he said with all due seriousness. “Maybe we’d all be better off if we approached marriage and relationships with the clear-headed approach we use on business deals.”

Lauren rolled her eyes as she breezed past him and continued down the hall, to the sweeping semicircular mahogany staircase that dominated the center of the house. “You really want to date me, don’t you?” she mused.

Mitch caught up with her on the stairs. He wrapped his hand lightly on the railing as they made their descent. “I really want the merger that will make Deveraux-Heyward shipping the most powerful firm on the entire eastern seaboard. And,” he concluded as he reached the main level once again and turned to face her, “if spending time with you for one week is what guarantees that, so be it.”

Silence fell between them as Lauren plucked her blazer off the railing and tugged it back on.

“We can do this, Lauren,” Mitch insisted as he sat down on the fourth stair-step up. He clasped his hands between his spread knees. “It’s really not that much to ask.”

“Says you,” Lauren retorted back as she paced to the front door and back. She leveled an accusing fingertip at Mitch. “You haven’t had my father trying to control your life in every way possible for the past twenty-eight years.”

Mitch shrugged, and still feeling overly warm, folded the cuffs back on his shirtsleeves, nearly to his elbows. “From what I could tell, your father seems to love you very much.”

Still pacing, Lauren threw her hands up in exasperation. “He does, which of course makes all his behind-the-scenes string-pulling on my behalf all that much worse.” She paused, propped the back of one hand on her hip and looked straight at Mitch. “It’s like he doesn’t believe in me to be able to make the right decisions on my own.”

“I’ll be the first to admit that’s unfair,” Mitch commiserated quietly. “But you shouldn’t let your pique with him about that keep you from owning this place and lavishing on it the tender loving care you know that it deserves and needs.”

Abruptly, Lauren broke into a sweet-as-sugar, and just as impudent, grin. “Oh, you’re good, Deveraux,” she said. “Real good.”

Mitch couldn’t help it—he grinned back as he straightened. He drew nearer, finding himself still a good six inches taller than she was, despite the two-inch heels on her shoes. He looked down at Lauren, a little taken aback by the undercurrents of chemistry between them. “Does that mean I’m persuading you?”

“It means,” Lauren delineated bluntly, with a take-no-prisoners look, “that I want to own 10 Gathering Street as much as you want the Deveraux-Heyward merger. So okay,” she conceded on a reluctant sigh. “I’ll date you every evening for one week. But I’ll do so only on my terms.”

“And those are?” Mitch braced himself for the demands to follow.

“It’s strictly platonic.” Lauren firmly ticked off her demands. “No kissing. No hand-holding. No fringe benefits of any kind.”

Given the way she was looking at him—as though she just dared him to try anything the least bit romantic—it was all Mitch could do not to take her into his arms and kiss her senseless, then and there. “How about opening the door for you?” Finding his own pulse racing in what could only be anticipation, Mitch stalked her in deliberately predatory fashion.

Lauren stepped back, a slight look of alarm on her face. “No.” She folded her arms in front of her tightly.

“You don’t want me to pull up your chair,” Mitch noted, pretending he couldn’t imagine why not.

Lauren regarded him skeptically. “No.”

“What about coats?” he asked lazily. “Should I help you on with your coat?”

Lauren flushed, the same soft hue as her blazer. “It’s too warm for coats,” she stated, digging in where she stood even more. “Besides, should I want to take one off, I can manage it on my own. And one more thing. I know my father and what he’s banking on here, but you should know outright that no matter what else he offers me, our dating will not lead to marriage.”

Even as he struggled over his own guilt over the secret dowry her father had already offered him, Mitch felt compelled to take on the role of devil’s advocate. “Why are you so opposed to the idea of that?”

“I don’t know.” Lauren shrugged. “Maybe because it would be arranged?”

“Not if we decided on our own to wed,” Mitch said.

Lauren stared at Mitch in mortification. “And why would we do that?”

“Because it makes sense,” Mitch explained. “At least in a strictly business way.” Able to see Lauren wasn’t the least bit convinced, he explained, “The first tenet of business is to keep an open mind when trying to achieve your goals. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a short-term need or a long-term one. When a good idea is presented to you, you should make the most of it. Especially if it helps you meet your objective.”

Lauren looked down her nose at him as she said dryly, “Let me guess. You think an arranged marriage is a good idea?”

Mitch paused, uncertain how much to reveal. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Lauren, and he had a feeling that if she found out about the secret dowry he had been offered, she would be very hurt. “To tell you the truth,” Mitch said eventually, “I’ve never really considered an arranged marriage before—” But now that he was thinking about it—with Lauren Heyward as his potential bride—an arrangement like that could work. Given the right circumstances and attitudes, of course.

“I haven’t thought about it either,” Lauren interrupted unhappily, “and with good reason—it’s an outdated concept.”

“But now that your father has brought it up I can see he’s got a strong case for such a liaison,” Mitch persisted. One that seemed a little more intriguing with every second he spent with Lauren Heyward. Seeing she was going to need a little more persuasion, he leaned closer and said softly, “Think about it. We have similar backgrounds. We both understand the shipping business because we grew up with it.”

“But only one of us is actually interested in the shipping business.”

“Even better,” Mitch said emphatically. “Should we decide to marry one day, we won’t be fighting over who gets to run it—I’ll automatically have the honor. Plus a marriage-driven merger would allow us to expand and strengthen both our businesses, while still keeping both firms private and ‘all-in-the-family’ so to speak. Financially, it would be good for both of them.”

Lauren went very still. “What about passion?”

Mitch had only been with Lauren a few minutes, and he was already fantasizing about what it would be like to make love with her. But sensing she wouldn’t want to hear that, he merely smiled. “I think every marriage should have some.”

“Exactly,” Lauren replied with a mixture of satisfaction and relief. She looked at him in a way that seemed to imply on that score they weren’t compatible at all.

He sized her up and then decided a level of truth was called for after all. “I am attracted to you, Lauren.” He’d also never been able to resist a challenge—and the thought of taking her to bed and discovering all the ways to give her pleasure was very intriguing, indeed.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Lauren retorted with a haughty toss of her mane of golden-brown hair. “Because I am not in the least bit attracted to you!”

Fibber, Mitch thought. “Want to bet?” Mitch asked, and then did what he had been wanting to do since she had first stormed into—and out of—her father’s office earlier in the afternoon. He took her in his arms, lowered his lips to hers and put her declaration of immunity to the test. She gasped as their mouths fused and he kissed her long and hard and deep. Until he felt the need pouring out of her, as surely as the desire and temper. Until she moaned softly and melted in his arms. His mouth tingling, his whole body aching with the yearning to make her his, Mitch reluctantly lifted his head.

“Okay,” Lauren said breathlessly as he continued to hold her close, “maybe you are attractive.” She braced her arms between the two of them, doing her best to keep them from touching above the waist. “But that doesn’t mean I’m attracted to you, Mitch Deveraux.”

Mitch smiled at the stubbornness of her complaint, and bent her backward from the waist, determined to make her face the truth, no matter what it took. “Kiss me again and then say that,” Mitch challenged playfully, kissing the nape of her neck, the curve of her ear, before taking the softness of her lips and molding them to his. He kissed her again and again, persuading, tempting, until her body trembled even as it strained to be closer to his and her arms moved up to wreath his neck. And once he felt the soft surrender of her body, tasted the sweetness of her mouth, there was no stopping with just one kiss. Never mind one intended merely to prove a point.

Mitch’s heart pounded in his chest. The rest of his body went rigid with desire. Knowing the only way to be close enough to her would be to take her to bed and make her his, he tugged her nearer yet. He hadn’t wanted a woman as much as he wanted Lauren, since…well, maybe never. He couldn’t even say why, exactly. He just knew there was something special about her. Something special about this. And she knew it, too, Mitch thought. He could tell by the way she was kissing him back. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the way he wanted her—on an ill-thought-out whim. Reluctantly, he drew back. Waited for her reaction. Which turned out to be every bit as predictable—self-protecting—as he thought it would be.

“I’m still not attracted to you,” she repeated.

Oh, but it was going to be fun tearing down her barriers and making her face the truth about the chemistry between them. Mitch grinned. Feeling happier, more optimistic and content—than he had in a long time, Mitch looked deep into her eyes and ran his hands from her shoulders to her wrists.

Linking his fingertips intimately with hers, he asked softly, “Then why are you trembling?” Why were their entire bodies still reverberating with excitement and desire?

Lauren tore her eyes away from his and stared at the open collar of his shirt. “Because this whole idea of the two of us being together…because of a proposition put forward by my father—upsets me, that’s why.”

Mitch knew the idea of dating—maybe even marrying—a woman he barely knew should have been disturbing to him, too. But now that he’d spent a little time with Lauren, it wasn’t. Not at all. “How come?” he asked.

“Because we’re talking about the possibility of us one day getting married as calmly and logically as if it was a business deal, and it’s not!” Lauren said emotionally, pushing him away.

“Maybe it should be,” Mitch murmured back, and found he was beginning to agree with Payton Heyward more and more. The only mystery was why he’d never noticed Lauren Heyward before and sought her out on his own.

Lauren took a deep, bolstering breath. She let her hands fall to her sides as she looked into his eyes and squared off with him. “I want children, Mitch.”

“I want them, too,” Mitch said sincerely. So there was no problem there. If the kisses they had just shared were any indication, there wouldn’t be a problem in the bedroom. The problem would be staying out of the bedroom.

Lauren pressed her right hand to her chest. “I want a marriage from the heart.”

So had Mitch—once. But he had learned the hard way not to look for a passionate love affair to give him happiness. He clamped his lips together. “Infatuation fades.”

Lauren narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that what happened with you and Jeannette Wycliffe?”

Mitch sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “Suffice it to say, we were two people who definitely never should have married.”

“But you did get married.”

Mitch nodded, reflecting soberly on what a gargantuan mistake that had been. “Because we let our hormones dictate our actions. When I marry again, it will be because I’ve thought it out thoroughly and rationally, and know it’s a sound alliance that will infinitely benefit us both.” That we’ll be good together both in and out of bed.

Lauren rolled her eyes and looked at him askance. “It doesn’t get any more romantic than that.”

“I’m not looking for the romantic—I’m looking for the practical. And you should be, too,” Mitch advised stoically. The way he saw it, a temporary liaison between them would be very advantageous. Should they prove compatible, in the bedroom and out, an eventual marriage would be even more beneficial to them both. But even if they didn’t get along all that well or share the same goals and ideals, there wasn’t much risk or cost to either of them in dating each other exclusively for a period of one week. He’d had business deals he’d worked months to achieve that had paid him far less in actual dividends than this merger would. And he wanted—needed—this merger. Both the Heyward and Deveraux shipping companies did.

“In fact,” Mitch continued sincerely, “I think you should be grateful to your father for setting this up.” He knew he was.

At that, Lauren just shook her head at Mitch and muttered something about him being about as romantic as a tree.

“What time are we supposed to do this again?” she asked with thinly veiled impatience.

“From 6:00 p.m. until midnight, every night, starting tonight,” Mitch replied over the staccato tapping of her foot against the wood floor.

“Fine.” Lauren sighed, doing nothing to mask her lack of enthusiasm for the evening ahead. She planted her hands on her hips. “Where do you want to meet?”

“I’ll pick you up at your place.” Mitch plucked his suit coat off the banister and headed for the door. “And you probably want to dress nicely,” he added.

“Why?” Lauren regarded him warily.

“We’re having dinner with my parents.”



AND LAUREN HAD THOUGHT her day, already as eventful as all get-out, couldn’t possibly get any worse. She held up a hand to stop Mitch’s flight and stepped into the open portal in front of him. “Whoa! Why bring them into this?”

Mitch stood, his jacket slung over his shoulder. “Because I already had plans to see them. I can’t cancel. My mom has been having a rough time.”

Lauren’s heart filled with empathy for Grace Deveraux. “I saw she had been fired from her job on Rise and Shine, America! How could they do that anyway? She was the best host they’ve ever had on that morning news show.”

Mitch nodded. “We all thought so, too, but apparently the network brass wanted to go with someone who would bring in younger viewers.”

“That’s crazy. You can’t teach experience.”

“Exactly.” Mitch continued out onto the front porch.

Silence fell between them as Lauren crossed the portal and shut the door behind her. “How is your mom?” she asked gently.

Abruptly, Mitch’s blue eyes became troubled. “We’re not sure. She seems fine on the surface, but…she has to be hurting at the way she was dismissed from her job. Anyway, we’re taking turns sort of circling the wagons and making sure she has plenty of moral support. Tonight is my night, and my father is joining us.”

That was interesting, considering Grace and Tom had been divorced for thirteen years. “Are the two of them thinking of getting back together?”

Mitch shrugged.

Even though he didn’t come right out and say so, Lauren could tell by the look on Mitch’s face that he wished they would.

“They’ve both been dating other people since the divorce,” he said.

“And now?”

“No one special, on either side, from what I can tell. But I don’t know a lot about their personal lives.” Mitch regarded Lauren casually. “What about your dad? Is he seeing anyone?”

“He hasn’t dated at all since my mom died eleven years ago. He says he already had the love of his life. Which makes it worse, you know,” Lauren related with a beleaguered sigh, “because the two of them had an arranged marriage. They didn’t know each other from Adam when the two of them got together.”

“But they fell in love.”

“Yes, they did. Although my mom and I always—always—came second to his business,” Lauren reflected with more bitterness than she would have liked.

Mitch looked at Lauren sternly. “Just because he cares about his company doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.”

That just showed what little Mitch knew, Lauren thought. Her father never did anything that didn’t somehow positively impact his business. Hence, Payton’s trying to fix her up with the son of his fiercest business rival. Payton Heyward was always thinking ahead. Always trying to make more money. Or become more successful yet. And while Lauren applauded her dad’s ambition, she did not like the way he had—with Mitch’s help—tried to include her love life in Payton and Mitch’s plans for a merger between the Heyward-Deveraux shipping companies. But since this was the only way she was going to get the mansion she had wanted to refurbish for most of her adult life, Lauren knew she had to either bow out or cooperate. And for the sake of this lovely old home, she was going to cooperate—for a week anyway.

“So—” Lauren dug the toe of her shoe into the brick and mortar floor of the porch, then looked up at Mitch “—which one of us is going to tell my father we’re taking him up on his deal?”

“I’ll call him, if you’d like,” Mitch said.

Lauren nodded. Bad enough her father had won this round of machinations. She didn’t want to hear the victory in his voice when he realized it. Because although she had agreed to date Mitch Deveraux for one week—against her better judgment—there was absolutely no way she was marrying him, no matter how much her father wanted it, or how wonderfully Mitch kissed!




Chapter Three


“I thought you said you were bringing a date tonight,” Grace Deveraux said to Mitch as he walked into the family’s Charleston mansion several hours later.

Mitch looked at his mother. Thanks to her career as a television newswoman, she had one of the most widely recognizable faces in the entire country. She couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized, which was why she was currently staying with Tom Deveraux in the home they had shared before their divorce, some thirteen years ago. It was the only way she could get any privacy in the wake of her very public firing.

Not that his mother had let the catastrophe get her down—her short and fluffy blond hair was as youthfully and impeccably arranged as always, her blue eyes lively, her trim figure clothed in a stylish silk pantsuit.

Mitch smiled, glad to see his mother looking so well. The idiots who had pronounced her “too old” to do her job might not know it yet, but Grace would land on her feet yet. And Mitch and the rest of the Deveraux clan would be there to applaud her when it happened.

Mitch accepted a glass of wine from his dad. “Lauren called and said she was running a little behind schedule and would just meet me here.” Mitch hadn’t been pleased to get the message from his secretary. He had the feeling it was just one of many excuses Lauren would offer up over the coming week to avoid spending even one more second than she absolutely had to with him. But since he hadn’t known where Lauren was when she called, and she hadn’t been answering her cell phone, he’d had no choice but to do as she had asked, and arrive without her.

“Lauren who?” his father asked as he sat down kitty-corner from Grace and Mitch.

Mitch figured now was as good a time as any to lay the bomb on his parents. “Lauren Heyward.”

Tom Deveraux frowned. Mitch wondered if it was his imagination or had the gray at his father’s temples recently become more pronounced?

“You know the rule about climbing into bed with the competition,” Tom said.

“Tom!” Grace chided, a flush coming into her pretty cheeks.

“Mitch knows what I mean,” Tom said, raking a hand through his closely cropped dark brown hair. “I wasn’t speaking literally. Although now that we’ve brought it up, that better not be the case, either.” Tom leveled a warning look at Mitch, his brown eyes darkening all the more. “There’s nothing more potentially damaging than pillow talk, when it comes to industrial espionage.”

The last thing Mitch wanted to be imagining was his head next to Lauren’s as they exchanged teasing quips and soft words of love and lust after making love. He didn’t want to think about her lying naked beneath him, either, her slender arms and long sexy legs wrapped around him. His relationship with her was too potentially beneficial to both of them to risk ruining with casual sex. If things went his way, he could make his mark with this deal with Payton Heyward, and Lauren would own the historical home of her dreams. And that was as far as Mitch was prepared to take it at this time, despite Payton Heyward’s very interesting offer. Or his own desire for Lauren.

“Lauren doesn’t work for her father,” Mitch said, putting his own uneasiness about Payton Heyward’s unprecedented actions aside. “Furthermore, she has zero interest in his company.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tom said gruffly. “She’s still an heiress to our biggest rival. And could inadvertently end up passing information to her father about what we’re doing at Deveraux Shipping Company.”

Mitch had no intention of letting Lauren know anything she shouldn’t. He would also keep a very close eye on her. “The competition between Payton Heyward’s company and ours isn’t the biggest threat to our continued prosperity, Dad. The Web-based exchanges on the Internet are.”

“Those companies are a fad.”

Mitch knew a lot of top businessmen thought so, given all the dot-com firms that had already gone under. He didn’t agree. He felt it was one of the fastest growing markets and would continue to be for some time. “They also offer faster bookings at cheaper prices.” And that was a problem, Mitch thought.

“Most big deals are made over a meal and closed with a handshake. That’s always been the case and always will be.” It was the really big deals, not the unpredictable little shipments, Tom Deveraux was interested in locking up.

In the past, those big deals had kept the Deveraux and Heyward shipping companies on top. But Mitch knew there was more money to be made by pursuing lots of smaller customers, too. They just needed a cost-effective way to do it. “I still want to use this year’s expansion money to put up our own Web site and start doing business that way as well,” he said.

Tom gave him a look that reminded Mitch just who was CEO of the Deveraux Shipping Company. “And I want to invest in more container ships.”

They would have more ships at their disposal if they merged with Heyward Shipping, Mitch thought. Because Payton Heyward had just added two new state-of-the-art vessels to his fleet. And then they could still add an e-commerce component to their business, too, without over-mortgaging the firm, without worrying whether Payton was going to edge out Tom on an upcoming deal with a customer or vice versa. But he sensed he was going to have a hard time convincing his father to put his own uneasiness and suspicion aside and merge companies with Payton Heyward.

“When did the two of you start dating?” Tom asked.

“Tonight’s our first date,” Mitch said. “And you might as well know there are going to be six others this week as well.”

Grace looked over with a raised eyebrow. “Cleared your calendars, did you, dear?”

Briefly, Mitch laid out the deal that had been offered to Lauren and him by Payton Heyward, while Lauren was present. He did not tell them about the dowry Payton had promised after she left in a huff. As he had expected, his parents were as shocked as he had been.

“Forget for a moment the fact that I would never agree to a merger between our two companies,” Tom said when Mitch had finished. “This whole idea of an arranged courtship is crazy! I’m surprised you even agreed to hear Payton out, never mind agreed to follow this cockeyed plan of his.”

Grace nodded her agreement as she swiftly took Tom’s side in this. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing here, Mitch?”

Mitch knew he could convince his father a merger between the two powerhouses was the right way to go, once he had Payton Heyward firmly in his corner and all the details worked out. His business case was that strong. But he would have to wait for the right time to do that and, unfortunately, now was not the right time. It was victory enough that he had even been able to broach the topic with his father, given his father’s insistence they keep their firm private and family-owned, despite all business indicators to the contrary. “Look, all Lauren and I agreed to do was spend time with each other every evening for one week so she can get this mansion that she wants and I can talk merger with her father. The way we see it, what we’re doing is not any different than schmoozing a client to close a deal.”

“It’s a heck of a lot different,” Grace interjected firmly. She looked at Mitch as if he had just sold his soul. “It’s always a mistake to date someone for the wrong reasons.”

“It’s only a week,” Mitch said impatiently. Although he hadn’t actually ruled out the idea of eventually marrying Lauren, he hadn’t ruled it in, either. He figured he would just have to wait and see how things developed. But if those kisses they had shared this afternoon were any indication of the fireworks yet to happen between them, he’d definitely be thinking about it by the end of the week.

“You tell yourself it’s only a week, now,” Grace said. “But you’re just marking time until you get what you really want. Peoples’ feelings are involved here, and things have a way of getting complicated when you least expect them to.”

No kidding, Mitch thought, recalling how fast and unexpectedly his previous marriage had gotten ugly and come to an end. He’d thought he’d known Jeannette, too. He’d thought they could make each other happy forever. And look how wrong he had been.

“I agree. You shouldn’t be spending time alone with a woman unless you’re genuinely interested in her,” Tom said. “I don’t care what prize was offered to you in return. To do otherwise usually ends up with someone being hurt. And you’re better than that.”

“Who says I’m not genuinely interested in Lauren?” Mitch stated angrily, resenting the implication that he was in some way cold-bloodedly using Lauren, when that wasn’t the case at all. They hadn’t pursued this deal. Her father had presented them with the arrangement, as well as the prizes. He and Lauren had just opted to take Payton Heyward up on his offer.

“Are you telling us you find her attractive?” Grace asked.

Attractive wasn’t the half of it, Mitch thought, thinking back to the way his senses stirred whenever he was close to her. And the way she kissed! He’d never felt lips as soft or sensual, or wanted anyone so much so fast… Deciding there was no harm in being honest with his parents about that much, especially because it would make him look better in their eyes, Mitch said, “Yes.”

Grace and Tom groaned in unison. “Even worse,” Tom said.

Grace agreed. “Now I know someone is going to get hurt.”

Mitch rolled his eyes. With this family of his, sometimes you just couldn’t win.

The doorbell rang. Theresa Owens, the family’s housekeeper, swept through the foyer to get it and ushered Lauren in. She looked breathtakingly beautiful in a sleeveless black dress that had embroidered flowers along the hem. Her golden-brown hair was loose and tousled, and pink tinged her cheeks. She had a bottle of wine in her hands and fortunately not an inkling about how Mitch’s father felt about Mitch consorting with the “competition.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Lauren said as everyone stood to greet her.

Mitch glanced at his watch and saw it was indeed ten minutes after six o’clock. He grimaced, wondering what Payton’s rules were about that. He’d hate to be disqualified on a technicality before they’d even really started.

“I ran into Daisy Templeton,” Lauren continued breathlessly, and handed the bottle of wine to Grace. “She’s starting a search for her biological parents. And she knows I’ve done a lot with birth records to better understand some of the complicated real estate transactions that have occurred on some of the properties I’ve bought and sold. You know, sometimes a property was supposed to go to an heir, only the heir died, and then it ended up with a second cousin, so what originally started out as a Smith-family holding suddenly became a Donahue property or a Calhoun. Anyway, I got hung up, giving her some advice on the best way to proceed.”

Grace suddenly looked very pale as she handed the wine to Tom and eased her way into a chair.

“Why would she want to do that?” Tom asked calmly, putting the wine on the bar. “I mean, we’ve all known for years that Daisy was adopted, but I always thought Daisy was very happy with the Templeton family.”

“Then you’re the only one,” Mitch murmured.

Tom shot him a reprimanding look.

Mitch shrugged. “You don’t get as wild as Daisy’s been without some reason,” Mitch said. “Frankly, I don’t think she’s ever felt she really belonged with the Templetons.”

“Of course she belongs with the Templetons,” Tom said sharply. He gave Mitch an impatient look. “They adopted her, didn’t they?”

“If you’ll excuse me—I—” Grace stood abruptly and put her hand to the back of her neck as if she had one of her tension headaches coming on. “I forgot I had a previous engagement this evening,” she murmured as everyone turned to her in surprise. “I’m so sorry, Mitch, Lauren. I won’t be able to have dinner with you after all.” She turned on her heel and walked toward the door with all the careful poise of an actress leaving the stage.

“Grace—” Tom started after his ex-wife.

Grace put up a hand to halt him, but did not turn around. Tom stopped in his tracks, and his broad shoulders slumped dejectedly, as he watched her disappear up the stairs.

Mitch looked at his father. “What was that about?” Clearly, his mother was annoyed with his father. Grace hadn’t even looked at Tom as she had made her excuses.

“I don’t know,” Tom said in a too-vague way that made Mitch think his father most certainly did.

“I hope it wasn’t something I said.” Lauren pressed a hand to her chest. She looked stricken.

“Of course not,” Tom and Mitch reassured in unison.

“Mom just…she’s been this way since she returned from New York,” Mitch explained. Things would be going along smoothly, and then his mother would suddenly look his father in the eye and end up walking out of the room, visibly distressed. They all assumed it had something to do with her being fired, that she was just feeling very tense and emotional in the wake of her public humiliation.

“I think we should take Grace at her word,” Tom said, going over to open the bottle of wine that Lauren had brought as a gift. “And accept that she had another invitation she forgot about and intends to honor.”

If you say so, Mitch thought. But he wasn’t buying it. Not for a red-hot minute.



DINNER WAS SERVED shortly thereafter. Mitch urged Lauren to talk about her career in acquiring and renovating historic properties for resale, which she did happily. He also asked her a few questions about her experiences with the family shipping business, and learned, along with his father, that Lauren never set foot in the executive offices if she could help it, and she usually could.

When Lauren excused herself to run out to the kitchen to get Theresa’s recipe for hummingbird cake, Mitch looked at Tom. “See? She’s not exactly Mata Hari.”

“How do you know?” Tom retorted grimly, looking as if he was all too willing to place Lauren in the ranks of the notorious World War I spy. “Just because she acts innocent in the ways of the business doesn’t mean you aren’t the one being set up here.”

Like the real Mata Hari, Lauren was sexy and beautiful, maybe even a tad mysterious. But Mitch couldn’t see Lauren seducing him for information. “What do you mean?” Mitch demanded.

“Payton Heyward has never been interested in taking his company beyond the Heyward family.”

Mitch regarded his father pragmatically and pointed out the obvious motivation, “Until now, Payton Heyward was probably hoping Lauren would marry and produce a child so Payton and Lauren would not be the last of the blood-line. But since that hasn’t happened, Payton’s decided to take matters into his own hands, and secure her financial future, and the Heyward family legacy in the shipping industry, in another way. Through a merger with us.” As far as Mitch was concerned, businesswise Payton’s actions made perfect sense. Personally, it was risky. If the situation backfired in any way, or Lauren learned of the dowry Payton had secretly offered on her behalf, Lauren might not ever forgive her father. Or Mitch. And therein lay the real risk.

Tom’s jaw hardened. He looked not the least bit appeased. “Look, call me suspicious if you will, but I’ve been around this business for a very long time. If Payton Heyward is suddenly wanting to merge with us, if he is really even wanting to consider it, then there’s a damn good reason.”

Mitch looked at his father warily. “You think they’re in trouble, financially, and he’s looking to bail out through us?” Mitch asked uneasily, realizing his father might have a point. Payton Heyward had recently bought those extra container ships. And as yet the scuttlebutt was the ships weren’t fully booked. That had to be putting a strain on the Heyward-company finances.

Tom shrugged, abruptly looking as unsure as Mitch felt about the situation. “I don’t know what’s going on there. I’m not sure I want to know,” Tom replied unhappily, sighing before leaning forward urgently once again. “And by the way, what I’ve told you about climbing into bed with the competition goes both ways. Don’t be pumping Lauren for information, either. It would be unethical.”

“I’m more principled than that,” Mitch said, beginning to get angry now. He loved his father with all his heart. But he loathed the way Tom kept treating him when it came to the family business, like a student who still needed schooling, lots of it. Tom didn’t treat his other children that way. But then his other children weren’t involved in the family business.

“I’m going to go out for a while,” Tom said, getting up from the dining-room table abruptly. “I need to clear my head.”

Mitch nodded and watched his father go.



“WHERE’S YOUR FATHER?” Lauren asked when she returned several minutes later, handwritten recipe in hand.

“He went out for a while,” Mitch said.

“Meaning we’re on our own for the rest of the evening,” Lauren supposed, looking no happier about that than Mitch felt.

“It would appear so.” Mitch glanced at his watch, saw nearly two hours had passed. Only four hours and two and a half minutes to go.

“So now what?” Lauren said, suddenly beginning to look as restless as Mitch felt.

Mitch shrugged and got up from the table. “I don’t know. We’ll figure out some way to kill the rest of the evening.” Without getting extraordinarily close.

“Such as…?” Lauren slipped the recipe into her handbag, then waited for Mitch to fill in the blanks.

“I don’t know.” Mitch shrugged again. All the things Mitch would normally want to do with a woman on a first date were pretty much out, given the unusual circumstances of their pairing. Too late, he realized he should have treated this date like a business deal and come up with more of an agenda ahead of time. “We could go to one of the clubs and listen to music, or, uh, maybe go to a very long movie,” Mitch suggested. Walking on the beach was out, as was anything else even quasiromantic until he’d had a little time to decide whether he could persuade Lauren to forget about her rules.

“Anything, just so long as we’re not alone,” Lauren qualified, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Right,” Mitch replied.

Lauren inclined her head at Mitch and grinned. Abruptly looking like the mischievous playgirl he knew she wasn’t, she sauntered closer and teasingly tugged at the knot of his tie. “Ah, Mitch.” She batted her eyelashes at him coquettishly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were afraid to be alone with me.”

She could be Mata Hari for all you know.

Mitch shifted his weight uncomfortably as Lauren came closer yet and wreathed both her arms around his neck. She stood on tiptoe, pressed her slender curves close to him. Then looked deep into his eyes and whispered in a soft teasing voice that sent the blood rushing like a riptide to the lower half of his body. “What’s the matter, Mitch? Afraid I might seduce you into doing something against your will?”




Chapter Four


“Don’t we both wish that were the case,” Mitch said, tightening his arms around Lauren’s waist, holding her closer yet, so their bodies were all but intertwined. “But not a chance,” he murmured, looking deep into her eyes. “Because I never do anything I don’t want to do.”

Gazing into his eyes, listening to the conviction in his low voice, Lauren could believe him.

The phone rang. Mitch leaned back just enough to be able to reach into the breast pocket of his suit coat and extract his cell phone. He checked the caller ID screen, pushed the button. Frowning, he held the phone to his ear. “Yeah, Jack, what’s up? …I don’t know. Well, if he’s not answering…yeah… I’ll be right there.” Mitch ended the connection and slid his cell phone back into his suit jacket. He released Lauren with a beleaguered sigh, the sexual electricity of moments before forgotten. “We’ve got to go. There’s trouble at the docks.”

Lauren picked up her handbag from the floor next to the sofa. “What kind of trouble?” she asked, sincerely interested.

Mitch looked at her with sudden wariness. “Problem with a shipment,” he said vaguely, after a moment, looking strangely loath to confide anything in her at all. “The company attorney, Jack Granger, can’t find my father—he’s not picking up his cell phone—so I’ve got to handle the situation.”

Lauren wondered if that was all Mitch was upset about. Somehow, it seemed like more than just that worrying him. “Does this happen a lot?” she asked casually as they walked outside to his car, wanting somehow to help him feel better about whatever was going on, even if it was just by talking about it.

Mitch tensed as they reached the passenger side. “Lately, more than I’d like to admit,” he said, making no move to open the car door for her. “What about what happened just now?” Mitch backed her up against the side of the Lexus and caged her there with his arms, one hand planted on either side of her. “Does that happen often?” All too aware of the sudden pounding of her heart, Lauren leaned back against the metal, putting as much distance as she could—which wasn’t much—between herself and his strong, hard body. Flushing self-consciously despite herself, she asked, “Does what happen often?”

Mitch favored Lauren with a challenging half smile she found even more disturbing than the way he was holding her captive. “Do you tease men about seducing them?” he queried in a low, inherently seductive tone.

Lauren’s neck and shoulders drew taut as a bow, even as she defiantly lifted her chin. “I’m not a flirt, if that’s what you’re asking,” she stated plainly.

Mitch shifted so his feet were braced slightly apart, his knees nudging hers. “You were doing a pretty good job of it,” he observed, giving her a narrow-eyed glance.

To both our surprise, Lauren thought, aware she had never before teased a man in such a wanton manner. She couldn’t even say why she had done it exactly. She’d just felt Mitch pulling away from her in a way he hadn’t earlier in the day. And she’d wanted to goad him back into the reckless good cheer and impulsive sexuality that had so marked their encounter earlier in the day. She had wanted this week of dating to be something she didn’t have to think about or consider. She had wanted it to mean nothing more than a reckless, meaningless fling that was forgotten almost as soon as it happened. And the only way she had known how to accomplish that was to keep the chemistry flowing between them—to the point it overrode all common sense and customary judgment. Too late, she saw what a mistake that had been. She wasn’t an impulsive person, and neither was Mitch. “Just giving you a hard time,” she said lightly.

Mitch quirked an eyebrow and looked down before returning his probing gaze to hers. “You did that, all right.”

Lauren’s jaw dropped in shock. She was flooded with embarrassment. “Mitch!”

Ignoring her censure, he cupped her face in his hands and rubbed his thumb across her lower lip in a way that had her heating with desire from head to toe. Looking at her, Mitch warned softly and seriously, “Don’t play with fire, Lauren. Not unless you want to get burned.”



LAUREN WAS SILENT during the drive to the docks. As much as she loathed the scolding way he had done it, Mitch had been right to warn her away from any disingenuous behavior. She had been prodding him unnecessarily, in a way she had instinctively known he wouldn’t appreciate. She wasn’t sure why. Except that, deep down, she was angry he had seemed, on some level, to be holding her at arm’s length this evening, after coming on to her so strongly that afternoon. And also angry that he hadn’t told her father what he could do with his proposition from the get-go, but instead had helped talk her into it! Not that she’d been a hard sell, Lauren admitted ruefully to herself. She had wanted to turn that mansion into the beautiful showplace it should be for so long. To be able to do that and call it her own home, too, well, it would be a dream come true. She was still going to have to figure out how to sell enough property to be able to pay for the renovations, of course, because there was no way she was marrying Mitch to get the money to do that. But she figured she would solve that problem over time.

Meantime, all she had to do was keep Mitch at arm’s length during their dates for the rest of the week. Given the way they had just ticked each other off without really even trying, she was pretty sure she could do that. She just had to keep him wanting the same thing. Given the vaguely irked look on his face, that too seemed like a done deal.

Jack Granger was waiting for them in his office when they arrived at the Deveraux Shipping Company. The company attorney looked ruggedly handsome in a button-down white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt.

Jack took one look at Lauren, then turned to Mitch and, looking much more weary and disillusioned than a successful, career-driven bachelor in his early thirties should, said grimly, “Damn it, Mitch. You know how your father feels about consorting with the enemy. How could you have brought Lauren Heyward here? Tonight, of all nights!”



BESIDE HIM, Mitch felt Lauren take a step back. Her shock was every bit as palpable as his own anger. Jack Granger had worked for the firm for years. First as a dockworker, summers while he was in high school, later as an intern. Now he was the company attorney, and, as a personal favor to the Deveraux clan, the legal expert the entire family relied on for advice. Jack had recommended the lawyer who handled Mitch’s divorce for him.

Consequently, Jack knew things about what had gone on between Mitch and Jeannette that no one else in the world knew—save Jeannette, Mitch and their two attorneys. But that didn’t mean Jack could chastise Mitch when it came to company business. On the executive level, they were on equal footing. Mitch looked out for the continued growth of the company. Jack enforced existing contracts, even when those contracts were handshake deals. As CEO and president of DSC, Tom Deveraux presided over them both. And it was Tom both wanted to please.

“Excuse me?” Lauren stammered to Jack.

Mitch held up a hand, letting Lauren know it was all right, he could handle this. He turned to Jack. “My father knows I’m seeing Lauren tonight.”

Jack grimaced at Mitch and raked a hand through his dark blond hair. “I doubt Tom would approve of you bringing her here when we’re in the middle of a crisis.”

No helping it, Mitch thought. He wasn’t about to bow out on his date with Lauren and lose his chance at merging the two most powerful shipping companies on the entire eastern seaboard. Not even if Lauren’s being here made Jack uncomfortable. “Like I said, Jack, my father knows Lauren is with me,” Mitch repeated evenly, letting Jack know with a glance the decision had been made. A decision for which Mitch was fully accountable. Mitch sat in one of the two armchairs in front of Jack’s desk and signaled for Lauren to do the same. “Now, what’s up?”

Jack sighed and took a seat behind a desk littered with contracts. He leaned back in the leather chair, rested his elbows on the chair arms and steepled his hands in front of him. “There’s been a delay with the five hundred luxury cars we were supposed to ship to Miami tonight. Only half of them arrived,” he confided, concerned. “LC Motors insists we wait for the rest of them before taking off. Meanwhile, we’ve got containers of perishable foods on the ship that need to go out as scheduled tonight.”

What a mess, Mitch thought. He was glad Jack had called him in to help handle it. “Have you tried putting the rest of the cars on a different ship?” Mitch asked.

Jack nodded. “Nothing’s available for five days. Everything else is booked solid.”

Mitch slanted a sidelong look at Lauren. To his chagrin—he would have much preferred she had been bored or distracted—she looked as tense and concerned and attentive as he and Jack. “Those shipments can’t be moved around?” Mitch asked.

“No.” Jack frowned again. “It’s all cargo from regular clientele.”

Realizing it was going to be a long evening, Mitch stood. Preparing to head for his office, he took off his suit jacket, unbuttoned his collar, and loosened the knot of his tie. “Let me see what I can do.”

Jack gave Lauren a considering look, which seemed to warn her from doing anything that would hurt the Deveraux or the company they owned, as she rose to accompany Mitch down the hall. “I’ll keep trying to get in touch with your dad,” Jack said before they left.

Lauren and Mitch walked down the hall the short distance to his office. “Tough break,” she murmured sympathetically as Mitch opened the door to his own suite of offices and turned on the lights.

“Yes, it is,” Mitch agreed. The question was, how to fix the situation without giving either Lauren—or by extension, her father—a chance to take advantage or betray him, and prove his father and Jack Granger right about her, and her motivation, after all.

Lauren sat down and waited patiently while Mitch worked the phones. To Mitch’s chagrin, he noted uneasily that though he gave her some old Business Week and Fortune magazines to flip through, Lauren secretly appeared to be hanging on to every word he said, even as she turned the pages and pretended to read the material in front of her. Were Jack and his dad right? Mitch wondered as he made yet another call. Was Lauren with him simply to uncover anything that would give her dad the edge in the ongoing competition between the two firms? Or was he right? Mitch wondered. And this was all simple coincidence, albeit an unfortunate one. Problems were a dime a dozen in any business. And missed shipments happened all the time. Generally not, however, when he was “contracted by gentleman’s agreement” to have the daughter of his fiercest competitor, and a savvy businesswoman in her own right, with him.

Half an hour later, Jack came back in. “Any luck?” he asked Mitch hopefully as soon as Mitch hung up the telephone.

Mitch shook his head, displeased to report, “LC Motors and Specialty Foods are both threatening to take their business to one of the Web-based exchanges on the Internet to find alternate transportation if we don’t do as they want.”

If possible, Jack looked even grimmer. “So what are you going to do?” he asked.

Mitch shrugged. “The only thing I can. Order the ship to get under way immediately, with whatever cargo is on it. And then talk to Payton Heyward. See if he’s got a ship we can use for the rest of the cars as soon as they arrive. We ship a lot for both LC Motors and Specialty Foods. We can’t afford to lose either’s business. And that means keeping to the contracted schedule as close as possible.”

Jack shot another long considering look at Lauren before turning back to Mitch.

Mitch knew what Jack was thinking. Jack was thinking he shouldn’t be giving any business to a competitor. Had Mitch not wanted to merge firms with Payton Heyward, he would have agreed. He would have found some other company to handle the cargo rather than do anything to strengthen their chief rival. But he did want to merge firms with Payton, and this was the surest, quickest way to prove that the two powerhouse shipping companies could work together in ways that would benefit—and empower—both.

“You can’t do this on your own,” Jack warned humorlessly at last. “Your father is going to have to sign off on it.”

“If you can find him, I’ll be glad to turn this problem over to him,” Mitch promised. “Until then, I’m going to use my executive powers, as second in command, to do what I have to do to solve the problem.” And the first order of business was to get the loaded ship under way. The second was to find Payton Heyward and get him to cooperate with Mitch in a way Payton had never joined forces with Mitch’s father.

Mitch studied Jack. “Are you with me or not?” he asked.

Jack nodded reluctantly. “I’m with you,” he said. “I just hope you know what you’re doing. ’Cause if you don’t, and this backfires on us in any way, there’s going to be hell to pay.”



“DO YOU HAVE PROBLEMS like this all the time?” Lauren asked as they drove the short distance to the penthouse apartment where Payton stayed during the week, in lieu of commuting back and forth between Charleston and his Summerville estate.

“Unfortunately, nowadays, we do,” Mitch explained, trying not to get too used to having Lauren’s soothing, perfumed presence in the car beside him. He turned to look at her as they waited at a red light, and explained, “It used to be that a shipping company established a regular clientele—these were all usually handshake deals—and then the two stuck together, through good times and bad. If there was unusual weather or some other calamity, it wasn’t a problem. Chiefly because there was nowhere else to turn. Now if something goes wrong, a customer can just switch on his computer, go to one of the auction sites on the Web, post his needs. The customer will start getting bids immediately and will usually find an alternate shipper within twenty-four hours.”

Lauren frowned, looking, Mitch thought, more troubled than someone should who had no interest at all in the family business. “But your family’s company doesn’t do that,” Lauren supposed slowly, her soft tone as sympathetic as her pretty, dark brown eyes.

“No, and neither does your father’s,” Mitch said as the traffic light changed, and he pressed his foot down on the accelerator again. “And that’s beginning to cost us both. And it’s a shame. We should both be doing business on the Web as well as the old-fashioned way.”

Lauren raked her teeth across her lower lip. “Why don’t you do that if it’s something you need to be doing to stay competitive?”

Mitch sighed as he turned into the parking lot and guided his Lexus into a visitor space. “I can’t speak for your father,” he said as he cut the engine and turned to Lauren. “But we haven’t done so yet chiefly because all our container ships are filled to capacity, as is.”

“Then why worry about it?” Lauren asked, getting out of the car before Mitch could get around to help her.

Mitch took her elbow as they headed toward the building entrance. “Because the way the shipping business is conducted is changing, Lauren, and both our companies need to change, too—at least stay ahead of the curve. Otherwise, five years from now both could find themselves out of business.”

Lauren said hello to the uniformed doorman and headed for the elevators at the other end of the elegant marble-floored lobby. “If you merge, will you force some of the auction sites to fold?” she asked.

“No.” Mitch stepped into the elevator behind her, taking in the appealing perfection of her skin. “Although statistically about half will fail on their own, anyway, due to poor plans, etcetera. But we will make ourselves stronger, bigger, more competitive. And that’s what both Deveraux and Heyward shipping companies need to do if we’re to keep growing,” he said, looking deep into her eyes and trying to determine once again if he could trust her as much as his gut told him he could.

“I guess you’re right,” Lauren commiserated as she leaned against the railing that lined the back of the elevator and looked up at him. “Whether we like it or not, business—any kind of business—is tough. To stay on top, you really have to be on your toes all the time, not just between the hours of nine to five.”

Like now? Mitch wondered, excruciatingly aware this problem had conveniently happened during the hours of his first arranged date with Lauren, at a time when his father was oddly, and unusually, out of touch with the office.

His instincts kept telling him it was all just a coincidence.

Bitter experience, and his involvement with his ex, told him to be on guard for something more complex and deviously underhanded.



“WHY WOULD I HELP bail you out?” Payton asked, after he had let them both into his apartment. He looked just as suspicious as Mitch felt when Mitch had first learned of the problem.

Excruciatingly aware that although the two of them were tentatively discussing a merger, they were still chief competitors, and not in any way bound to do favors for each other that would hamper their own capacity to do business, Mitch looked Payton straight in the eye. “Because Deveraux Shipping Company will pay you to ship those cars as soon as they arrive at dawn tomorrow morning. And I know you have more shipping capacity than you need right now, thanks to the purchase of those brand-new, state-of-the-art container ships you bought last spring.”

Payton studied Mitch with something akin to respect while Lauren waited nervously nearby. “We’ll get the full fee?” Payton ascertained.

Mitch nodded, knowing now was where it would get particularly tricky, and said, “Minus a ten percent referral fee, of course.” After all, he reasoned practically, Deveraux Shipping had to make something on the deal. Given how thin their profit margins were these days, the lost revenue was going to be hard enough to absorb as it was.

Payton sipped the vanilla-flavored protein shake he had been preparing when they arrived. Despite the way he was dressed—in a golf shirt and slacks—he remained the hard-edged businessman. “That’s highway robbery,” he growled.

“It’s also business you wouldn’t have if I weren’t putting it in your lap.” Mitch took a drink of his own smoothie and found it disgustingly bland and chalky. With effort, he kept from grimacing, even as he noticed Lauren had simply put hers aside. But then, maybe she’d had one of these vitamin-laced health concoctions before. “You don’t have long to decide,” Mitch continued. “If you can’t help me, I’ll go to the next shipping company on my list.”

Lauren crossed her legs and continued to watch the byplay between the two men. She might say she hadn’t the least enthusiasm for the family business, but there was no doubt she had understood and latched on to every word that was being said, both here and earlier, in the Deveraux offices, Mitch noticed. Which meant he was going to have to be more careful than he had expected, because the merger hadn’t happened yet. And might not happen, if at any point during the week Lauren changed her mind and refused to keep her deal with him. Or Mitch failed to convince his own father it was what they needed to do, not just to survive, but to grow.

“Then you will have lost this chance to pick up the extra revenue,” Mitch continued, glancing at his watch, knowing that like it or not, his time was running out. He was going to have to call both LC Motors and Specialty Foods shortly and tell them what was to be done.

Payton Heyward grinned in a way that said he appreciated Mitch’s aggressiveness in solving this problem. “One of my ships just came in this morning. I’ll have them send it over to your docks.”

The two men shook on the deal. Payton consulted the clock above the mantel. It was eleven. He narrowed his eyes at Mitch and Lauren thoughtfully. “I thought the two of you were supposed to be on a date this evening.”

“We were. Are,” Mitch said.

Lauren nodded, her affection for her father shining through now as clearly as her pique with him had earlier that day. “Wherever Mitch goes, I go,” she parried. “At least between the hours of six and midnight.”

Payton harrumphed, looking less than happy about the detour their date had taken, despite the additional business it had brought his company. “Then get back to it,” Payton advised, showing them to the door. “You two have wasted enough time on business, when you should have been courting, as it is.”

“Well, that went a lot easier than I thought it would,” Lauren remarked as they headed back out to Mitch’s car. She turned to Mitch with a sexy smile. “I half expected him to tell you no, and then get on the phone and steal the extra business out from under you.” She paused, shook her head, sighed. “I don’t know what’s happened to him, but he hasn’t been as aggressive at going after business lately as he has been in the past.”

Maybe there were reasons for that, the same reasons that were suddenly prompting Payton Heyward to consider a merger. Uneasily, Mitch realized his father was probably right on the money about one thing. Payton Heyward hadn’t told Mitch everything, just as he hadn’t told his own daughter everything. Hence, it was up to Mitch to use whatever means necessary to discover what was going on behind the scenes, and make certain that Payton wasn’t using Mitch and the Deveraux Shipping Company to bail him out of a messy financial situation or quietly failing business. The last thing Mitch wanted to do was drive his own family company into ruin because he had failed to investigate the obvious.

Oblivious to the grim, suspicious direction of Mitch’s thoughts, Lauren continued, “Take tonight for instance. Since it’s a weeknight, and he’s here in the city, my father’d normally be out courting a major client and showing him the sites. Instead, according to his doorman, he was home all evening, alone. That’s unlike him, Mitch.”

“Maybe he’s just getting older. And can’t keep up the same pace he used to.”

“Maybe.” Lauren sounded unconvinced.

They lapsed into silence until they arrived at the Deveraux mansion. Lauren’s car was parked on the street right where she’d left it before dinner with his father. “I’ll follow you home,” Mitch said.

Lauren consulted her watch. “We still have another forty-five minutes.”

“So we’ll have coffee at your place,” Mitch said with a shrug. “Unless you’d rather go somewhere else. There’s a gourmet coffee shop up on King Street that’s open until midnight—”

“No. My place will be fine.”

Lauren led the way, and five minutes later they arrived at the double house Lauren owned. The stuccoed brick town-house style villa was two rooms wide on both floors and surrounded by palmetto trees and overlooked South Battery. And that evening, as always, the view of the water beyond the seawall was staggeringly beautiful. Moonlight shimmered on the water—ships, some moving gracefully across the water, some at anchor—were visible in the distance.

Mitch inhaled the tangy scent of saltwater as Lauren led the way up the brick sidewalk, across her welcoming porch, and let them inside. The interior of her home was decorated with floral fabrics and antiques.

As soon as Lauren walked in, she went to her answering machine and pressed the button to retrieve her messages. The first two were from clients, confirming or changing dates to view houses. The third was enough to stop Mitch in his tracks.

“Hi, Lauren. Ron Ingalls calling you back. First, just let me say I think it’s great what you’re trying to do for your father. I’m not sure it’s going to be possible—the guy’s no pushover. But sure, I’d be glad to help you try and get what you want. I’m actually going to be in South Carolina on Wednesday, so maybe the two of us can meet then. In the meantime, I’ll try and find the information you need tomorrow and get back to you. Later.” Click.

“I wasn’t aware you knew Ron,” Mitch said mildly.

Lauren turned to Mitch, her expression happy but relaxed. “He and my dad go way back,” Lauren replied, looking as innocent as a newborn babe. “My dad always gets his new container ships from Ingalls Shipbuilding in Newport News, Virginia. You’ve met him, too, I guess.”

Mitch nodded. The forty-year-old executive was an accomplished businessman and a very affable guy. Mitch or his father played golf with Ron whenever Ron was in town, and usually managed to work in some business out on the greens, too. “We’ve bought a couple ships from him. Although we also get ships from a company in Maine, and another one in Connecticut.” Unlike Heyward Shipping Company, DSC preferred not to rely on just one supplier.

“Hmm. Well.” Lauren looked as if she could have cared less about that. She smiled at Mitch casually, the only sign of her inner restlessness the light tapping of her fingers against her thigh. “Did you want some coffee?”

I’d rather sit here and talk about what it is exactly that Ron is going to do for you and your dad. Had Ron been referring to Mitch on the phone, or some other guy who was no pushover? There was no doubt Ron’s allegiance would be to the Heywards before the Deveraux, and it bothered Mitch to think that Lauren could be conspiring with her father to pull something over on Mitch and his father. “That would be great,” Mitch said, doing his best to keep his suspicions to himself.

Lauren smiled again, even more warmly. “The kitchen’s back this way, if you want to come with me.”

“Mind if I stay in here and turn on the news?” Mitch asked. He needed more information—the kind Lauren was not going to give him, and he wanted something to cover the sound of him looking around.

For a second, Lauren looked both taken aback and hurt that he would prefer the company of the television to her, and Mitch felt even more guilty about what he had to do next. But that didn’t change his decision. He had been a chump once where a beautiful woman was concerned. He wasn’t going to ignore the early warning signs again. This time he was going to find out for sure what kind of woman he was dealing with before he got further involved.

“I missed the weather earlier and I want to know if I should get my car washed tomorrow,” Mitch fibbed.

Lauren rolled her eyes. Looking very annoyed, she muttered, “Suit yourself,” and then turned to exit the room. Mitch waited until she had rounded the corner, then switched on the TV and headed for the antique secretary where the phone was. The polished cherry-wood surface was bare except for a pad of paper and pen, and a leather-bound address book—which was filled with addresses and phone numbers of shipping-industry people, as well as countless other Charleston heavy hitters and real estate-industry people.

Of course, that in itself could mean nothing, Mitch reassured himself as he picked up the phone and scrolled through the list of incoming phone calls on Lauren’s caller ID. It was who had called her recently, and how many times, that was going to tell him what he really wanted to know.



LAUREN TOOK HER TIME in the kitchen. She just didn’t understand it. One minute Mitch was warm and personable, exactly the kind of guy she’d like to get involved with. And the next he was all business, as emotionally remote as could be.

Not that she shouldn’t have expected as much, she scolded herself firmly. The fact Mitch Deveraux had even agreed to date her for the sake of a merger should have told her what kind of man he was deep down. The kind who put business first, always. The kind she had always sworn she would avoid.

If she didn’t want the mansion at 10 Gathering Street so very much…

But she did.

So she had to get through this date, and six more, Lauren told herself firmly, looking at her watch. Luckily, she only had ten more minutes to go. She filled two coffee cups, put them on a silver serving tray along with cream and sugar and headed back into the living room. As she had expected, Mitch was sitting on the sofa, his eyes glued to the TV.

For the next ten minutes they sat and sipped coffee and made such inane conversation she knew she’d be hard put to recall any of it even half an hour later. Promptly at the stroke of midnight, he stood and prepared to go. Without making the slightest attempt to kiss her good-night, he thanked her politely for the coffee and headed for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow night at six.”

Wondering what had happened to the man who hadn’t hesitated to put the moves on her earlier in the day, Lauren watched Mitch Deveraux stroll down the front walk to his car. She told herself she should be relieved that Mitch suddenly wanted to take a step back and proceed a hell of a lot more cautiously, as well. But she wasn’t. It didn’t matter that it was a sure way to get hurt when the week came inevitably to an end. She didn’t care that setting herself up that way was foolish. She had wanted another hot, reckless, impetuous kiss. Or two, or three. The question was—why hadn’t he?




Chapter Five






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