Kitabı oxu: «Billionaire's Contract Engagement / Money Man's Fiancée Negotiation»

Advertising Media Volume 185

FEATURESPOTLIGHT

This Week in Advertising …

The Ad Woman: Celia Taylor

Her New Campaign:

Extra-strength adhesive. Because once you catch the guy … you need to hold on to him!

We always suspected that Maddox Communications account executive Celia Taylor could play with the big boys. But is she actually playing with one in her private life? She was, after all, last seen heading off to Catalina Island on Evan Reese’s private jet.

It’s a well-known fact that Maddox needs to seal Reese’s company as their new account. But to what lengths is Celia actually willing to go? One rumour is that she’s just travelling with Reese to pitch him her ideas. The other is a lot more interesting … Before he got on that flight, the billionaire businessman was said to have bought an engagement ring. Just whose finger is it meant for?

BILLIONAIRE’S

CONTRACT

ENGAGEMENT

MAYA BANKS

AND

MONEY MAN’S

FIANCÉE

NEGOTIATION

MICHELLE CELMER

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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BILLIONAIRE’S

CONTRACT

ENGAGEMENT

MAYA BANKS

About the Author

MAYA BANKS has loved romance novels from a very (very) early age, and almost from the start, she dreamed of writing them, as well. In her teens she filled countless notebooks with overdramatic stories of love and passion. Today her stories are only slightly less dramatic, but no less romantic.

She lives in Texas with her husband and three children and wouldn’t contemplate living anywhere other than the South. When she’s not writing, she’s usually hunting, fishing or playing poker. She loves to hear from readers, and she can be found online at either www.mayabanks.com or www.writemindedblog.com, or you can e-mail her at maya@mayabanks.com.

To Elizabeth Edwards —

Thank you so much for allowing me to pick your brain.

The information was invaluable and helped me to

really wrap my mind around these characters.

And for Diana —

you’ll be missed!

Dear Reader,

Temptation is hard to overcome, as Celia Taylor is about to find out. Even the best of intentions can’t hold up against the persuasive powers of tall, wealthy, gorgeous Evan Reese. But really, what’s a girl to do when it’s clear the man is very hungry and she’s on the menu?

Celia has some very important lessons to learn — about just who’s important in the scheme of things and what she isn’t willing to give up … for anyone. Evan? He knows what he wants. He just has to persuade a certain someone of that.

Evan and Celia have a fun but very passionate flirtation. They dance around each other — not so delicately — but that’s what made this book so fun to write. It is my hope that they charm you as much as they did me and that you enjoy their journey to happily ever after.

Enjoy Evan and Celia’s story!

Until next time,

Maya Banks

One

The vultures were circling.

Celia Taylor stood back, wineglass in hand, and surveyed the crowded ballroom. The fund-raiser was supposed to be more pleasure than business, but business was uppermost on the minds of her competition.

Across the room, Evan Reese stood in a large group of people. He looked relaxed, seemingly in his element, an easy smile making his extraordinarily handsome face even more gorgeous.

It should be a crime for a man to be that good-looking. Tall, rugged, he looked every inch the kind of man who’d be at home in the athletic wear his company designed and sold. There was an aura of confidence and power around him, and above all, Celia loved a man who was sure of himself.

Given the long, searching glances they’d exchanged over the last few weeks, she’d be a fool not to entertain the idea of seeing where things could lead.

If he wasn’t a prospective client.

A client she wanted to land very much.

She wanted the account—her boss and the agency was counting on her—but she drew the line at sleeping with a man to get what she wanted.

Celia turned away from the sight of Evan Reese before she became too enthralled in just watching him. They’d performed a delicate dance around each other ever since he’d fired his last advertising agency. He knew she wanted him—in the professional sense of course. Hell, he probably knew she wanted him naked and in bed too, but she wasn’t going to dwell on that. Maybe later tonight when she could afford to indulge in a little fantasy.

The problem was, anytime a big company like Reese Enterprises fired an agency, it became open season. The other agencies circled like sharks. It was a dog-eat-dog world, and in reality, she should be over there, shoving herself down his throat like the rest of her competition, but she couldn’t help but believe Evan Reese was secretly amused by the attention. He took a different hand. She was sure of it.

“Celia, glad you made it. Have you spoken to Reese yet?”

Celia turned to see her boss, Brock Maddox, standing a foot away. He wasn’t drinking. He didn’t even look particularly thrilled to be here.

Her eyebrow rose. “A tux. Why, Brock, you look positively decadent. However are you keeping the ladies at bay?”

He grunted in response, his lips curling in distaste. “Cut it out, Celia. I brought Elle along.”

Celia looked beyond his shoulder to see his pretty assistant standing a few feet away. When Elle looked her way, Celia smiled and waved.

“You look beautiful,” Celia mouthed.

Elle smiled and ducked her head self-consciously but not before Celia saw the faint blush that colored her cheeks.

Brock gestured impatiently toward Evan. “Why are you standing over here while Evan Reese is over there?” Brock scanned the room and his expression hardened. “I should have known the old bastard would be here.”

Celia followed his gaze to see Athos Koteas holding court within hearing distance of Evan. Though she wouldn’t admit it to Brock, it made her extremely nervous to see their business rival hammering so relentlessly on Evan Reese. Koteas owned Golden Gate Promotions, and not only had Koteas lured away a few of Maddox’s top clients in recent months, he’d also launched a PR campaign against Maddox. It was dirty pool, but it in no way surprised Celia. Koteas was ruthless, and he’d do anything to win.

“Well, yes,” Celia murmured. “His ad execs are busy working Evan over.”

“Any reason you aren’t?”

She laid her hand on his forearm. She knew how important this account was to Brock—to everyone at Maddox Communications. “I need you to trust me, Brock. I’ve studied Evan Reese extensively. He knows I’m interested. He’ll come to me eventually. I’m sure of it.”

“Are you fifty million dollars sure, Celia? Maddox is small, and this kind of deal means our employees keep their jobs whereas if we continue to lose clients and accounts, I can’t make any guarantees.”

“I know I’m asking a lot,” she said in a low voice. “But I can’t walk over there and pull out the seductive wiles.” She gestured toward the women standing around Evan. They weren’t making any bones as to how far they’d go to sign him. “It’s what he expects, and you of all people know I can’t do it. I can land this account on the ideas, Brock. I’ve spent every waking minute putting this pitch together. There’s no way he won’t go for it.”

Brock studied her for a long moment, his eyes gleaming with what looked like respect. She loved working for him. He was hard. He was demanding. And he was the only person she’d presented her side of what had happened in New York in her last advertising job.

“I never expected you to land the account on anything less than your brilliance, Celia,” Brock said softly. “I hope I never gave you any other impression.”

“I know. I appreciate your confidence more than you know. I won’t let you down. I won’t let Maddox Communications down.”

Brock ran a hand through his hair and glanced once more across the room. He looked tired. It was true he worked hard. The agency was everything to him. But in the last few months new lines had appeared around his eyes. More than anything Celia wanted to be able to hand this account to him. He had believed in her when everyone else was willing to think the worst.

She glanced up to see Evan threading his way through the throng of people. “Don’t look now, but he’s headed our way. Maybe you should take Elle and go dance or something.”

As quickly as he’d approached, Brock turned and melted back into the crowd.

Celia sipped at her wine and practiced nonchalance as she literally felt Evan close in. It was impossible to miss him. Her body always seemed to heat up about five degrees whenever he was anywhere near.

And his smell. Even amid the hustle and bustle of the crowded room, the mix of so many feminine perfumes, she could pick out his unique scent. Rough. Masculine and mouthwateringly sexy. It made no sense to her, but she was attuned to his every nuance, and that had nothing to do with all the studying up she’d done on him and his company.

“Celia,” he murmured.

She turned with a welcoming smile. “Hello, Evan. Enjoying the evening?”

“I think you know I’m not.”

She raised one eyebrow and stared at him over the rim of her glass. “Do I?”

Evan snagged a flute from a passing waiter and turned his attention fully on her. It was all she could do not to gasp under his heated scrutiny. It was as if he undressed her right then and there in front of a roomful of people. Her blood simmered and pooled low in her belly. He had beautiful eyes, and they were currently devouring her, delving beneath the modest evening gown she’d chosen. He made it seem like she wore the most scanty, revealing dress imaginable. She felt nude and vulnerable under his searing gaze.

“Tell me something, Celia. Why aren’t you over with the rest of the piranhas convincing me that your ad agency will take Reese Enterprises straight to the top?”

Her lips curved upward into a smile. “Because you already are at the top?”

“You’re such a tease.”

At that her smile faded. He was right. She was flirting, and it was the last thing she wanted to do.

She glanced across the room to where the other ad execs stood staring holes through her and Evan.

“I’m not desperate, Evan. I know I’m good. I know my ideas for your ad campaign are spectacular. Does that make me arrogant? Maybe. But I don’t need to sell you on a load of malarkey. All I need is the time to show you what Maddox Communications can do for you.”

“What you can do for me, Celia.”

Her eyes widened in surprise at the blatant innuendo. And then he went on to correct the errant assumption she’d just made.

“If the ideas are yours and are as brilliant as you say, I’d hardly be taking on Maddox and what the agency could do for me. I’d be hiring you.”

She frowned and hated that she suddenly felt at a disadvantage. Her fingers curled a little tighter around the glass, and she prayed they wouldn’t shake and betray her unease.

He studied her curiously, having obviously picked up on her discomfort.

“It wasn’t a proposition, Celia. Believe me, you’d know the difference.”

In a daring move, he reached a finger out and traced a line down the bare skin of her arm. She was unable to call back the shiver, or the sprinkling of chill bumps that danced over her flesh.

“I only meant that if you wow me with a pitch and I sign on with Maddox, you won’t pawn me off to some junior executive. I’d expect you to oversee the campaign at every level.”

“And do you anticipate signing with Maddox Communications?” she asked huskily.

There was a gleam of amusement in his green eyes. He took a measured sip of his wine and then regarded her lazily. “If your pitch is good enough. Golden Gate has some good ideas. I’m considering them.”

Her lips tightened. “Only because you haven’t seen mine yet.”

He smiled again. “I like confidence. I don’t like false modesty. I look forward to seeing what you have in mind, Celia Taylor. I have a feeling you put every bit of that passion I see burning in your eyes into your work. Brock Maddox is a lucky man to have such a fierce employee. I wonder if he knows it.”

“Are we moving into the appointment phase?” she asked lightly. “I have to admit, I’ve enjoyed watching you surrounded by the piranhas as you call them.”

He put his glass down on a nearby table. “Dance with me and we’ll discuss appointment times.”

Her eyes narrowed.

He lifted one finely constructed eyebrow into what looked like a challenge.

“I’ve also danced with female ad executives from Golden Gate, Primrose, San Fran Media—”

She held up her hand. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re making your selection on who’s the best dance partner.”

He threw back his head and laughed. Several people around them turned to stare, and she had to resist the strong urge to flee the room. She hated the attention that Evan seemed to have no issue with whatsoever. How nice it must be not to have to worry what people thought about you. To have your reputation intact and not have suffered the stupidity and vindictiveness of others. But then men rarely suffered in cases like hers. It was always the woman. The vilified other woman.

Knowing no graceful way to bow out of the dance, she set down her own glass and allowed Evan to lead her onto the ballroom floor.

To her relief, he held her loosely. To anyone looking on, they could find no fault or impropriety. She and Evan didn’t look like lovers, but she knew the thought was present in both their minds. She could see the desire in his eyes and knew he could probably see it in hers.

She wasn’t practiced at hiding her emotions. Maybe being the only girl in an all-male household growing up was the reason. Her family was a loud, demonstrative lot, and she’d always been regarded as the precious daughter and sister.

It would make her life easier to be able to hide her thoughts from this man. Then she wouldn’t concern herself over whether he was giving her a shot because he thought she deserved it or whether he was thinking only of the powerful sexual pull between them and how best to capitalize on it.

Wow, Celia. Lump him in with all the other jerks you’ve known, why don’t you? Nothing like being tried and convicted based on your gender.

“Relax. You’re thinking way too much,” Evan murmured close to her ear.

She forced herself to do as he’d instructed and gave herself over to the beautiful music and the sheer enjoyment of dancing with a man who took her breath away.

“So how is next week? I have Friday free.”

She jerked back to reality, and for a moment couldn’t for the life of her figure out what he was talking about. Some professional she was.

“I was thinking we could meet informally and you could go over what you have in mind. If I’m interested we could do the whole shebang at your agency. Maybe that’ll save us both a lot of time and hassle if I’m not loving your ideas.”

“Sure. I can do Friday. Friday is good.”

The music ended, and he held her just a bit longer than necessary, but she was so affected by the intensity of his gaze that she couldn’t formulate a single objection.

“I’ll have my assistant call you with the time and location then.”

He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. The warm brush of his mouth over the back of her hand sent a bolt of pleasure straight down her spine.

“Until Friday.”

She watched wordlessly as he strolled away. He was immediately swallowed up by a crowd of people again, but he turned and found her gaze. For a moment they simply stared at one another and then the corners of his mouth lifted into a half smile.

Oh, yes, he knew. He knew exactly what her reaction to him was. He’d have to be a complete moron not to. And he was anything but. The man was smart. He was driven. And he had a reputation for being ruthless. He was the perfect client.

She turned to walk toward the exit. She’d done what she’d come for. There was no reason to stick around and be social. If there was any gossip over her dance with Evan, she certainly didn’t want to hear it.

On the way, she passed Brock and Elle, who were standing somewhat awkwardly to the side. Brock didn’t say anything. He just lifted an inquiring brow. Of course he would have seen her dancing with Evan. Brock probably hadn’t looked at anyone but Evan all night. A shame, really, since Elle looked fabulous in her black sheath.

“Friday,” she said in a low voice. “I meet with him Friday. No formal pitch. He wants to hear my ideas first. If he likes them, he’ll arrange a time for us to hit him with both barrels.”

Brock nodded, and she saw the gleam of satisfaction light his eyes.

“Good work, Celia.”

Celia smiled and resumed her path to the door. She had a lot to do before next Friday.

Evan Reese loosened his tie as soon as he walked into his hotel suite. He left a trail of clothing from the door, where he threw his jacket over one of the chairs, to the bedroom where he peeled off his socks and left them on the floor.

The desk with his laptop and briefcase beckoned, but for once, the idea of work didn’t appeal to him. He was too preoccupied with thoughts of Celia Taylor.

Beautiful, seductive, impossibly aloof Celia Taylor.

His body had been on heightened sense of alert ever since she walked into the ballroom, and though he’d known the moment she left, he was still tense and painfully aware of her scent, how she felt in his arms, how her skin felt under his fingers the one time he’d been bold enough to touch her.

He wanted to do a hell of a lot more than just touch. He wanted to taste her. He wanted her underneath him, making all those feminine, breathy sounds of a woman being pleasured.

He wanted to slide his hand between those gorgeous legs and spread her thighs. He would spend all night making love to her. A woman such as Celia wasn’t to be rushed. No, he’d get to know every inch of her body. Find out where she liked to be touched and kissed.

His fixation with her couldn’t be readily explained. It wasn’t as though he lived as a monk. He had sex. He never lacked for partners. Sex was good. But he knew that sex with Celia would never be just good. It would be lush and delicious. The kind of experience a man would sell his soul for.

She was indeed a beautiful woman. Tall, but not too tall. She would fit perfectly against him, her head tucked just underneath his chin. She often wore her long red hair up in a loose style that told him she didn’t pay a lot of attention to whether every strand was in place.

He wanted to take that damn clip out, toss it in the garbage and watch as her silken mass spilled down her back. Or better yet, let it spill over him while they made love.

He cursed under his breath when his body reacted to that image. Cold showers didn’t do a thing for his hunger. He ought to know. He’d taken enough of them over the last few weeks.

Perhaps her most mesmerizing feature was her eyes. An unusual shade of green. At times they looked more blue but in certain lighting they were vivid green.

The more cynical side of him wondered why a woman that beautiful hadn’t tried to seduce him into hiring her agency. It wasn’t like it hadn’t been attempted before. In fact, he’d received two such propositions tonight at the fund-raiser.

He wasn’t saying he’d mind. Right now he’d use just about any reason to get into Celia Taylor’s bed. But there was a reserve about her that intrigued him. She was a cool customer, and he admired that. She wanted the account. She’d made no bones about that. But she hadn’t actively pursued him.

No, she’d waited for him to come to her, and maybe that made her damn smart since he’d done just that.

The ring of his BlackBerry disturbed his fantasy and brought him sharply back to the present. He looked down in disgust at the unmistakable ridge in his trousers then reached into his pocket for his phone.

His mother. He frowned. He wasn’t really in the mood for anything to do with his family, but he loved his mother dearly, and he couldn’t very well ignore her.

With a resigned sigh, he punched the answer button and put the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Mom.”

“Evan! I’m so glad I caught you. You’re so busy these days.”

He could hear the disapproval and worry in her voice.

“The business doesn’t run itself,” he reminded her.

She made a low sound of exasperation. “You sound so much like your father.”

He winced. That wasn’t exactly at the top of the list of things he wanted to hear.

“I wanted to call to make sure you hadn’t forgotten about this weekend. It’s important to Mitchell that you be there.”

There was a note of anxiety in her voice that always seemed to creep in when his brother was mentioned.

“You can’t think I’d actually go to their wedding,” Evan said mildly. And the only important thing to Mitchell was that Evan be there to see his triumph.

His mother made a disapproving sound. “I know it won’t be easy for you, Evan. But don’t you think you should forgive him? It’s obvious he and Bettina belong together. It would be so nice to have the whole family back together again.”

“Easy? It won’t be easy or difficult, Mom. I don’t care, and frankly they’re welcome to each other. I simply don’t have the time or the desire to attend.”

“Would you do it for me?” she begged. “Please. I want just one time to see my sons in the same room.”

Evan sank onto the edge of the bed and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. If his dad had called, he would have had no problem refusing. If Mitchell had called, Evan nearly laughed at that idea. Mitchell wouldn’t be calling him for anything after Evan had told him to go to hell and take his faithless fiancée with him.

But this was his mother, whom he harbored real affection for. His mother, who was always caught in the middle of the tension that existed between him and his father and between him and Mitchell.

“All right, Mom. I’ll come. But I’ll be bringing someone with me. I hope you don’t mind.”

He could practically see her beam right through the phone.

“Why, Evan, you didn’t tell me you were seeing someone new! Of course you’re welcome to bring her. I’ll very much look forward to meeting her.”

“Can you forward all the details to my assistant so she can make arrangements?”

His mom sighed. “How did I know you wouldn’t have kept the original e-mail?”

Because he’d immediately sent it to the trash folder? Of course he wouldn’t tell her that.

“Send it to Vickie and I’ll see you on Friday. I love you,” he said after a short pause.

“I love you too, son. I’m so very glad you’re coming.”

He ended the call and stared down at his BlackBerry. Friday. Hell. Friday was when he was meeting Celia. Finally meeting Celia.

He’d planned meticulously, not wanting to seem overanxious. He’d flirted, exchanged long, seeking glances and had spent a lot of damn time in the shower. He was surprised he hadn’t come down with hypothermia.

And now he was going to have to cancel because his mother thought that he should go see the woman he was supposed to have married instead marry his younger brother.

He needed to find a date. Preferably one who would convince his mother he wasn’t secretly pining over Bettina. He wasn’t. He’d gotten over her the moment she’d dumped him for his brother when Mitchell was appointed the CEO position in their family jewelry business.

She preferred the glitz-and-glamour facade of the jewelry world over the sweaty, athletic image of his company. It was just as well she wasn’t bright enough to have done any research. If she had, she would have known that Evan’s company’s earnings far exceeded those of his father’s jewelry business. And it had only taken him a few years to accomplish it.

His mother wouldn’t believe it but Evan was grateful to his brother for being a selfish pinhead. Mitchell wanted Bettina because Evan had her. Thanks to that deep need for one-upmanship, Evan had narrowly escaped a huge mistake.

But it didn’t mean he wanted to spend quality time with his controlling father and his spoiled, self-indulgent sibling. He’d agreed, however, and now he needed a date.

With a shake of his head, he began scrolling through his address book in his BlackBerry. He had narrowed his options to three women, when the solution came to him.

It was brilliant, really. He was an idiot for not having thought of it immediately. It certainly solved all his problems.

Finally he had a way of luring Celia to him. It would be business, of course, but if the setting happened to be intimate and she was for all practical purposes stranded with him on Catalina Island for three days …

A satisfied smile raised the corners of his mouth. Maybe the wedding wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

Two

When Celia pulled into her father’s driveway, she was relieved to see Noah’s Mercedes parked beside their father’s pickup. She pulled her black BMW on the other side of the truck and grinned at how the two expensive cars flanked the beat-up old piece of family history.

As she got out, she heard the roar of another engine and turned to see Dalton pull in behind her. To her utter shock, Adam climbed out of the passenger seat.

“Adam!” she exclaimed, and ran straight for him.

He grinned just before she launched herself into his arms. She hit his chest and as she’d known he would, he caught her and whirled her around. Just like he’d done when she’d been five years old and every year since.

“How come I never get greetings like that?” Dalton grumbled as he climbed from behind the wheel.

“I’m so glad to see you,” she whispered fiercely.

His big arms surrounded her in a hug that nearly squeezed the breath out of her. Adam always gave the best hugs.

“It’s good to see you too, Cece. I missed you. Took you long enough to come back home.”

She slid down until her feet met the ground again, and she briefly looked away.

“Hey,” he chided as he nudged her chin until she looked at him again. “None of that. It’s all in the past, and it’s a good damn thing it is otherwise your brothers would hop the first plane to New York and beat the crap out of your former boss.”

“Hey, hello, I’m here, too,” Dalton said, waving a hand between them.

She held Adam’s gaze for a moment longer and then smiled her thanks. Her brothers were overbearing. They were loud, protective and they certainly had their faults. Like not believing she needed to do anything more in life than look pretty and let them support her. But God love them, they were fierce in their loyalty to her, and she adored them for it.

Finally she turned to Dalton. “You I saw two weekends ago. Adam I haven’t seen in forever.” She glanced back at Adam. “Why is that anyway?”

He grimaced. “Sorry. Busy time of the year.”

She nodded. Adam, her oldest brother, owned a successful landscaping business and spring was always a hectic time. They rarely saw him until the fall when business started to slow.

Dalton slung an arm over Celia’s shoulders and planted an affectionate kiss on her cheek. “I see Mr. Baseball is here. Must have caught a break before the season starts.”

“You guys going to the season opener?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Adam said.

“I have a favor to ask then.”

Both brothers looked curiously at her.

“I’m bringing a client and I’d like to keep my relationship to Noah on the down low.”

Curiosity gleamed in their eyes. She knew they wanted to ask, but when she didn’t volunteer her reasons why, they didn’t pursue the matter.

“Okay. Not a problem,” Adam finally said.

“Are you three going to stand out there all day or are you coming in to eat?”

Her father’s voice boomed from the front porch, and they turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, impatience evident in his stance.

Celia grinned. “We better go in before he starts muttering threats.”

Adam ruffled her hair then tucked his arm over her neck so he had her in a headlock. He started toward the house, dragging her with him.

When they got to the porch, she laughingly stumbled from Adam’s hold and gave her dad a quick hug. He squeezed her and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

“Where’s Noah?” she asked.

“Where he always is. Parked in front of the big screen, watch ing baseball.”

She slipped past her father while he greeted his sons and entered the home she’d grown up in. When she got to the living room, she saw Noah sprawled in the recliner, remote in hand as he flipped through footage of past baseball games.

“Hey,” she called.

He looked up, his eyes warming in welcome. As he got up, he smiled broadly at her then held out his arms.

She hugged him then made a show of feeling his ribs.

“They don’t feed you in training camp?”

He laughed. “You know damn well that all I ever do is eat. I think my tapeworms have tapeworms.”

She glanced back to make sure they were still alone and then lowered her voice.

“Are you going to hang around later or do you have to be somewhere?”

His eyes narrowed, and he lost the smile.

“I don’t have to be anywhere today. Why do you ask?”

“I need to talk to you about something. I have a favor to ask, and I’d rather not get into it in front of everyone.”

He frowned now. “Is everything okay, Cece? You in some kind of trouble? Do I need to kill anyone?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re too valuable to go to prison. You’d have Dalton do it anyway.”

Noah smirked. “The pretty boy would be popular in prison.”

“You’re a sick puppy. And no, nothing’s wrong. Promise. Just want to run something by you that could be beneficial to us both.”

“Okay, if you’re going to be all mysterious on me. I guess I can wait until later. You want to go back to your place for a while? I’d invite you to mine but the maid quit on me last week and it’s not a pretty sight. You do have food, right?”

She shook her head. “Yes, I have food, and yes, we can go back to my place. For God’s sake, Noah, how hard is it to pick up after yourself? Or if you can’t do that, at least pick up the phone and get another maid service?”

“I’ve sort of been blackballed,” he mumbled. “I have to find an agency where my reputation hasn’t preceded me.”

“I feel so sorry for the woman you marry. She’ll be in ten kinds of hell.”

“You don’t have to worry because that’s not going to happen.”

“Sure. Okay. I believe you.”

They both looked up when the others spilled into the living room. Noah gave her arm a light squeeze and mouthed “later.”

“Food’ll be on the table in fifteen minutes,” her father announced.

Her mouth watered. She didn’t even know what her dad had cooked. It didn’t matter. The man was a culinary genius.

Lunch was a rambunctious affair. Her brothers bickered and joked endlessly while her father looked on indulgently. She’d missed all of this during her years in New York. Though she loathed the circumstances that brought her home, she was glad to be back in the comforting circle of her family. Even if they were all just a generation from knuckles-dragging-on-the-ground cavemen.

After the table had been cleared, the argument started over what channel the television landed on. Noah didn’t know anything but ESPN or the Food Network existed, Dalton liked anything that was mindless, particularly if explosions were involved, and Adam liked to torment his brothers by forcing them to watch gardening shows.

Celia settled back to enjoy the sights and sounds of home. Her father sat on the couch next to her and shook his head over his sons’ antics.

It was the truth, she’d fled the hovering overprotectiveness of her family. She’d been determined to make her mark on the world while they wanted her to stay home, where they could support her and look out for her.

She wasn’t a vain woman, but she knew men found her attractive. She was probably considered beautiful by most, but her looks had been the cause of a lot of problems in her life.

Because of her delicate looks, her brothers and even her father thought her job was just to look pretty and let them provide for her. She hadn’t been encouraged to go to college—she’d done all of that on her own—and they certainly hadn’t wanted her to have a career in something as demanding as advertising.

She’d ignored their objections. She’d gotten her degree and after graduation, she’d taken a job in New York City. After a couple of years, she’d taken a position with a large, prestigious firm. She was on her way up. A promotion had just cemented her triumph. And then it had all come crashing down like a bridge in an earthquake.

Adam rising from his chair shook her from her angry thoughts. She forced her fingers to relax and winced at the marks she’d left on her palms.

“Leaving already?” she asked.

Adam pulled her up into a bear hug. “Yeah. I need to check on a job. I’ll see you at the season opener, though.”

She kissed his cheek and patted his shoulder affectionately. “Of course.”

She turned to Dalton. “I guess you’ll be going, too, since you brought him over.”

“Yep. I have a date I’ve got to get ready for anyway.”

No one seemed surprised by that announcement.

“I’ll walk you guys out. I need to run, too. I have a pitch to prepare for.”

Her father grimaced, and she steeled herself for another gruff lecture about how she worked too hard. An interesting statement since Adam worked harder than all of them, and no one ever lectured him.

To her surprise, he remained silent. She regarded him with a raised eyebrow and wondered if he’d burst at the seams, but his lips remained in a firm line. He rose from the couch to hug her and then gruffly reminded her to be sure and get enough rest.

They all walked out together, and her father reminded them all of lunch next Sunday. Celia waved to Adam and Dalton before climbing into her car. Noah stood, saying his goodbyes to their father, and she drove down the driveway. Noah would be along shortly and she needed to make sure her pantry would survive the assault.

Celia had just done a cursory examination of her stock of food—cursing the fact she hadn’t been to the market in far too long—when the door buzzer sounded.

She strode across to the call box and mashed the button. “That you, Noah?”

“Yep, buzz me in?”

A few seconds later, Noah walked in, and she smiled her welcome.

“I know that smile,” he said suspiciously. “That’s a smile that says you lured me here under false pretenses. You don’t have any food, do you?”

“Weeeell, no. But I did just order pizza.”

“You’re forgiven, but I refuse to have a reasonable discussion until it gets here.”

She laughed and punched him on the arm when he flopped on the sofa next to her. “If I didn’t need a favor from you, I’d make you pay for it.”

His expression grew serious. “So what is this favor, anyway?”

“Oh, no. I’m not asking you for anything until you have a full stomach. Again, since you ate not even three hours ago.”

He grunted but didn’t offer any argument. His stomach was too important.

He reached for the remote and flipped on the TV. A few seconds later, the sports recap was on, and he settled back against the couch.

The pizza didn’t take long—thanks to the bistro right around the corner offering delivery service. Soon the decadent smells of a completely loaded pizza filled her apartment. Despite all she’d eaten at lunch, her stomach growled in anticipation. She eyed the gooey dripping cheese and grimaced. It might taste good, but it would go straight to her hips. Then again, that’s what the treadmill was for.

She dropped the box on the coffee table in front of Noah, not bothering with plates. He eyed the mountain of toppings with something akin to bliss.

She waited until he’d grabbed the first piece before she carefully took a slice and nibbled on the end. It was, in a word, sheer heaven. She leaned back and waited for Noah to down the first slice. When he was on his second, he turned and said around a mouthful of pizza, “So what’s this favor you need?”

She sat forward, putting half the slice down on a napkin.

“I have this client … well he’s a client I want to land. Evan Reese.”

Noah stopped chewing. “The guy who sells athletic wear?”

She nodded. “Yeah. He fired his last agency and has yet to sign with a new one. I want him. Maddox Communications wants him.”

“Okay. So where do I fit into the picture?”

For a moment her nerve deserted her, and then she mentally slapped herself upside the head. In her profession there was no room for the spineless. She hadn’t worked her way into the confidence of Brock Maddox acting like a jellyfish.

“I want you to agree to front his new line of athletic wear.”

Noah blinked then he frowned, and finally he put down his half-eaten slice. For a moment he was quiet. She waited, fully expecting him to say no or to launch into all the reasons why he didn’t take endorsement deals. She knew them all. But he did none of those things. Instead he studied her carefully, his gaze sliding over her features as though he was reaching right into her head and pulling out her every thought.

He wouldn’t ask why him. He was a huge name in baseball, and he was more sought after than any other professional athlete mainly because of his refusal to take endorsement deals. Instead of deterring companies, it made them all the more determined to be the first to lure Noah Hart to their brand.

She could beg. She could hurry through a prepared explanation as to why she needed him, but she wasn’t going to wheedle and cajole.

Noah was still frowning as he studied her. “This is important to you.”

She nodded. “Evan is a big client. My boss is trusting me to land the account. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll get him with or without you, but you’d be the nail in his coffin. Plus it would be huge for you. Reese will pay a lot to have you be the spokesman for his sportswear.”

Noah sighed. “I wish you’d just quit this job. You don’t have to work, and you know it. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, Cece. Certainly not to your family. Adam, Dalton and I make more than enough money to support you. It would make Dad happy if you didn’t have such a stressful job. He’s convinced you’ll have an ulcer before you’re thirty.”

She smiled faintly. “I am thirty.”

He shot her an impatient look.

“Look, Noah, would you quit baseball just because your brothers make enough money to support you? They do, you know.”

A derisive, strangling sound rose from his throat. He licked his lips as if to rid himself of a really bad taste.

“It’s different.”

“I know, I know. You’re a man, and I’m a woman.” Her lips curled in disgust. “Noah, I love you dearly. You’re the best brother a girl could ask for. But you’re a chauvinist to your toes.”

He huffed but didn’t dispute her accusation. Then his expression grew thoughtful again. “I assume you’ve done your research on this man and his company.”

Celia nodded before he’d even finished. On the surface, Noah looked and acted laissez-faire. He had all the appearances of a golden-boy jock whose only concern might be fast cars and faster women. But beneath that illusion lay a man who had a deep social conscience.

His refusal of endorsement deals had gained him a reputation of eccentricity from some. Others regarded him incredulously as a fool to pass on the opportunity to make millions by doing nothing more than lend his name to countless companies willing to part with their dollars for his endorsement. But the simple fact was that Noah did meticulous research on all the corporations that approached him, and so far none had passed muster with him.

“E-mail it all to me. I’ll take a look. If it checks out, I’m willing to listen to his offer.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Noah. You’re the best.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll be so grateful that you’ll volunteer to clean my apartment?”

She snorted and picked up her slice of pizza again. “Put it this way. I’d rather quit my job and let you and Adam support me than clean your place.”

He winced. “Well, damn. No need to be so mean about it.”

“Poor baby. Oh, hey, I need one more favor.”

His eyes narrowed, and he glared at her. “You just turn down my request for you to play cleaning lady and you insult me in the process and then have the cheek to want another favor?”

“How about I find you a replacement cleaning service? Then both of us are happy.”

He got a hopeful puppy dog look that would probably make mush of most women. Thankfully she was his sister and completely immune to any adorableness on his part.

“Okay, you find me someone to clear a path in my apartment and whatever this other favor of yours is I’ll do it.”

“Wow—and you don’t even know what it is.”

“Should tell you how desperate I am,” he muttered.

She laughed and punched him in the arm. “All I need are two very cushy seats behind home plate for the season opener. I’ll be taking Evan. Hopefully.”

“Anyone ever tell you how expensive you are?”

“Hey, wait a second. A minute ago, you were trying to convince me to quit my job so you could support me.”

His expression went from teasing to serious with one blink. “I just worry about you, Cece. That’s all. What happened in New York would have never occurred if—”

She stiffened and held her hand, halting him in mid-sentence. “I don’t want to talk about New York.”

Regret flashed in his eyes. “Sorry. Consider it dropped.”

She waited for her pulse to settle and then she forced a smile. “So you’ll take a look at the research I’ve compiled? You’ll like Reese. He’s a veritable Boy Scout. His employees love him. He has a cracking health-insurance plan. He’s had no layoffs since his business started and he’s not shipping jobs or production overseas. Let’s see. What else? He’s a regular contributor to a half dozen pet charities—”

Noah held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, he’s a saint. I get it. How do other men ever measure up?”

“Cut the sarcasm.”

He checked his watch and let out a sigh. “Sorry to break this up so early, especially since I haven’t finished the pizza. Somebody talked too much. Very distracting. E-mail me the stuff. I’ll take a look. And the tickets will be waiting for you at the box office.”

“You always were my favorite sibling,” she said affectionately.

He dropped a kiss on top of her head then stood and stretched lazily.

“I’ll give you a call when I’m through reading everything.”

Three

Evan walked into the suite of offices he leased for the times he was in San Francisco. It wasn’t home, and though Union Square was a sumptuous neighborhood that catered to upscale businesses, he preferred the funky modern feel of Seattle.

He nodded a good morning to his receptionist but halted when she came out of her seat, a concerned expression on her face.

“You shouldn’t go in there,” Tanya said in a hushed whisper.

He raised an eyebrow when he realized she was gesturing toward his office.

“Why the devil not?” he demanded.

She put one hand up to shield her mouth and then she tapped her finger against her palm—in the direction of his office.

“Because she’s in there.”

Evan turned to stare down the hall toward his office, but the door was closed. Damn, but he didn’t have time for this. He looked back at Tanya and tried to stifle his growing impatience. The girl was highly efficient if a little eccentric. But he liked unconventional, and while she’d probably fit in better with his Seattle staff with her colored hair, multiple piercings and vintage 1930s clothing, he found she brought a sort of vibrancy to an otherwise stuffy office here.

“Okay, Tanya. First of all, who the hell is ’she’ and where is Vickie?”

It wasn’t like Vickie not to meet him as he got off the elevator. His longtime assistant traveled with him everywhere. She had an apartment here and in Seattle. She had an uncanny knack for knowing precisely when he’d show up, and as a result she was always there, ready to pelt him with the day’s obligations.

Tanya’s face fell. “Oh, sir, did you not get your message? I left you two. Vickie’s granddaughter was rushed to the hospital early this morning. They suspect appendicitis. She’s in surgery now.”

Evan frowned. “No, I didn’t get any such message. Keep me updated. I want to know the minute she’s out of surgery. Send flowers and make sure Vickie has everything she might need. On second thought, send over food for the family. Hospital food is terrible. And arrange for a hospitality suite. If there is a hotel close to the hospital, have a block of rooms set aside for any of the family members.”

Tanya blinked then hurriedly picked up a notepad and began scribbling.

Evan waited a moment then sighed. “Tanya?”

She looked up, blinking, as if surprised to still see him standing there.

“Who is the ’she’ waiting in my office?”

Tanya’s nose curled in distaste. “It’s Miss Hammond, sir. I couldn’t stop her. She was quite imperious. Told me she’d wait for you.”

It was all Evan could do not to look heavenward and ask “why me?” He glanced down the hall and briefly considered leaving. He had no patience for Bettina today, and after his mother had extracted his promise to attend this weekend’s debacle, he couldn’t imagine anything Bettina could have to say to him.

“Keep me posted on Vickie’s granddaughter,” he said as he turned to go down to his office.

He opened the door and swept in, his gaze immediately finding Bettina. She was sitting on one of the sofas lining the window that overlooked the outdoor cafés lining the sidewalk below.

“Bettina,” he said as he tossed his briefcase onto his desk. “What brings you here?”

Bettina rose, her hands going down to smooth her dress. The motion directed attention to her legs—her self-admitted favorite personal attribute. The dress stopped almost at mid-thigh, which meant quite a lot of those legs were on display.

Evan wouldn’t lie. He’d enjoyed those legs. It was just too bad they were attached to the rest of her.

Her expression creased into one of fake pain. She crossed the room, holding her hands dramatically in front of her to grasp his.

“I wanted to thank you for agreeing to come to the wedding. It means the world to Mitchell and your mom and dad. I know how painful it must be. I can’t imagine how difficult it was for you to agree to go after I broke your heart.”

Evan just stared at her. Part of him wanted to ask her what planet she existed on, but he already knew the answer to that. It was planet Bettina, where everything revolved around her. Did she honestly believe he was still pining for her?

“Cut the theatrics, Bettina. Why are you really here? You don’t care if I show up or not, so why pretend otherwise? In fact, I’d be willing to admit you hoped I wouldn’t.”

She blinked, and for a moment he saw bitterness in her eyes.

“Lucy said you were bringing a … date. It was clever of you, really. But you don’t fool me, Evan. Everyone knows you haven’t been serious about anyone since me. Who is she? Someone you’ve met socially? Do you know anything about her? Does she know she’s going as an accessory? God knows that’s all I ever was to you.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Bettina. Either I was serious about you or you were an accessory,” he drawled. “Which is it?”

She flushed angrily. “I only meant that you haven’t dated any woman more than once since I broke things off with you.”

He made an exaggerated expression of surprise. “You flatter me. I had no idea you were so interested in who I date. I would have thought my brother kept you too occupied to monitor my love life.”

“Bring your date, Evan. But you know and I know she isn’t me. She’ll never be me. Don’t think you’ll take anything away from my wedding day.”

With that she stalked out of his office, leaving Evan to shake his head. He really ought to call his brother and thank him profusely.

He sank into his chair and opened his day planner. Vickie kept meticulous records of all appointments for just such rare occasions that she was out of pocket. He frowned when he saw his calendar was full. Except for one forty-five-minute window for lunch.

His mind immediately went to Celia. Celia, whose office was just two blocks from his. He’d planned to call her, but a proposition such as he had in mind was really better delivered in person. He wouldn’t have a lot of time, and he doubted she had much free time, either, but he knew without arrogance that if he asked her to lunch, she wouldn’t refuse. She wanted his business too badly.

He hit the button to call Vickie then quickly remembered she wasn’t there. He connected to Tanya instead.

“Yes, sir?”

“Tanya, I need Celia Taylor of Maddox Communications on the phone.”

Celia stepped out of the elevator and was met with a cheerful hello from Shelby, the receptionist for Maddox Communications. Shelby was young and friendly. She also had superb organization skills and a memory like a steel trap. Which made her a perfect asset. But more importantly, she knew everything about everyone at Maddox. There wasn’t a piece of juicy gossip floating around that Shelby didn’t know, and she didn’t mind sharing it. Celia found it useful to keep in the know. Never again would she be caught off guard like she’d been in her last job.

“Good morning, Shelby,” Celia returned as she paused in front of Shelby’s desk. “Any messages for me?”

Shelby’s eyes twinkled and she leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially. “Latest rumors that have surfaced are about the boss man and his assistant.”

Celia frowned. “You mean, him and Elle?”

Elle didn’t seem like the type to indulge in a torrid office affair and definitely not with her boss. Celia felt compelled to warn Elle about the potential pitfalls of even having such a rumor circulate, but it was just a rumor, and Elle might not appreciate Celia broaching the subject.

Shelby shrugged. “Well, they do seem to spend a lot of time together.”

“Of course they do. She’s his assistant,” Celia pointed out.

“I just repeat what others are saying.”

Celia gripped her briefcase a little tighter. It wouldn’t do her any good to get involved. Brock and Elle were adults. She just hoped Elle wasn’t hurt by the idle gossip.

“Hey, Shelby,” Celia began as she remembered why she’d stopped to begin with. “I need you to look up a cleaning service.” She dug around in her briefcase then pulled out a sheet of paper that had all the names of the agencies Noah had already contacted. She handed it over the counter to Shelby. “These are the ones marked off the list of possibilities. I need you to make it clear this is a demanding client and that he’s a slob through and through. Money is no object but whoever the poor soul is who takes the job will definitely earn their paycheck.”

Shelby’s eyes widened. “Noah Hart. The Noah Hart? He needs a housekeeper? I’m available. I mean, I can totally quit here, right?”

Celia shot her a “get real” look. “Let me know if you find someone. Oh, and I’m expecting a call from Evan Reese’s assistant. I don’t care what I’m doing or who I’m with, make sure I get that call.”

As she walked away, Shelby called out to her. “Hey, wait. How do you know Noah Hart? He’s not a client of Maddox.”

Celia smiled and kept walking toward her office. Normally she’d stop in on some of her coworkers, say hello, get a feel for what the day’s events were, but she was already running late, thanks to a breakfast meeting going well into the brunch hour. She needed to play catch-up on phone messages and e-mails before a full afternoon of client calls and a staff meeting to close out the day.

She’d made a sizeable dent in the backlog of messages when her interoffice intercom buzzed.

“Celia, Mr. Reese is on line two.”

Celia frowned. “Mr. Reese himself or Mr. Reese’s assistant?”

“Mr. Reese.”

“Put him through,” she said crisply.

She wiped her hand on her skirt then shook her head. What did she have to be nervous about? As soon as the phone rang, she picked it up.

“Celia Taylor.”

“Celia, how are you?”

Even his voice sent a bolt of awareness through her body. When would she stop acting like a teenage girl in the throes of her first sexual awakening? It was ridiculous. It wasn’t professional.

“I’m good, Evan. And you?”

“I don’t have a lot of time. I wanted to meet for lunch today. That is, if your schedule permits?”

There was a note of confidence in his voice. He knew damn well she wouldn’t say no. Hastily, she checked the clock.

“What time?”

“Now.”

Panic scuttled around her stomach. Now? She wasn’t prepared to meet him now. Surely he didn’t want to reschedule their informal pitch session from Friday to now?

“I thought we had a lunch date on Friday?”

She was stalling as her brain scrambled to catch up.

“I want to discuss Friday today. There’s been a change of plans.”

Her heart sank. There was no way she could have her act together right now.

“I only have forty-five minutes,” he continued. “We’re two blocks apart. Shall we meet in the middle? Our choices are French, Italian or good ole American.”

“I’m up for anything,” she said faintly.

She propped the phone between her shoulder and her ear and began frantically digging for her notes on his account. She stuffed everything into a folder and reached for her briefcase.

“Great. Shall we meet in say five minutes? I’ll start out now.”

“Sure, meet you there.”

He hung up and for a moment she stood there like a moron, the phone still stuck to her ear. Then she slammed it down, took in a deep steadying breath and declared battle.

She could do this in her sleep.

Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she all but jogged out of her office and down the hallway.

She passed Ash Williams, Maddox’s CFO, who held up a finger and opened his mouth to say something to her.

“Not now, Ash, she called as she hustled by. “Late for an important lunch date.”

She didn’t even look to see his reaction.

She ran past Shelby and hollered back as she punched the button for the elevator.

“If Brock asks, I’m having lunch with Mr. Reese. Just tell him Friday got moved up. If anyone else asks, just tell them I’ll return this afternoon.”

The elevator opened and she ducked in. As she turned around, she saw Shelby’s look of befuddlement just as the doors slid shut again.

When she reached the lobby, she stopped in the bathroom long enough to check her appearance. She wouldn’t stop traffic for sure, but at least she didn’t look as frazzled as she felt.