Authors: Heather Hiestand
“Go on.” Tommy Joe heard the rustling as his brother sat up
in his tall cushioned executive chair.
“LeatherWorks is up for sale and Professional Massage is
trying to buy it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t see how Professional Massage can
afford to buy it. We’ve been hemorrhaging money the past few months with the
problems in our product line.”
“Can you find out how much they’re offering?”
“I doubt it, but I’ll try.”
Billy Joe shifted again and Tommy Joe heard the pop of a
match as he lit a Marlboro. “It doesn’t matter. If they don’t have cash, the
deal will fall through, regardless of whatever fancy accounting they try. I’ll
check into the company.”
“Professional Massage is small time.”
“Yeah, but Wicked Oil isn’t going to be. Are you with me?”
“Of course.”
“Talk at you soon.” Billy Joe hung up the phone and Tommy
Joe sat back on the hideous purple chair. LeatherWorks was in play.
Chapter Nine
“Heading home?”
Melanie whipped around as a sexy-deep masculine voice
caressed her ear. She had been concentrating on the poker game Tommy Joe was
playing on one of the no-frills airport slot machines and hadn’t been aware of
her surroundings. It didn’t seem possible that she had missed Rob’s approach.
Every time she walked away from Rob Black, she wondered what
she saw in him. Every time she came across him, her entire body told her what
he had. Knee-weakening, soul-stealing, marrow-deep sex appeal. And sexual
ability. She couldn’t forget that.
She glanced at Tommy Joe who, engrossed in the game, hadn’t
noticed Rob and took a step away from him. She didn’t want these two to meet.
Rob would probably accuse Tommy Joe of spying on him too.
“So your conference is over too?” Melanie asked. The four
days had passed so quickly and yet she found it hard to believe she’d only
known Rob since Tuesday.
“Yes,” Rob said, hooking his thumb into a belt loop. Melanie
couldn’t help noticing the fine etching of geometric shapes on his black
leather belt as the movement of his arm led her eyes south. “Did you manage to
avoid the Huntley crowd for the rest of the day?”
“Yes, I stayed on the Bath and Beauty side of the conference
floor. It seemed wise.”
“I suppose.” Rob grimaced. “Do you have any questions for me
before you report back?”
“I don’t understand.”
“From your management,” he said with an air of patience. “Is
there some piece of information you were here to get?”
“Not from you, Rob. I’m a Product Design manager. I was here
to get some great idea that would save the company.”
“Did you?”
“I had a great idea. A couple actually, but then another
company announced their plans to launch a product with the same name as mine.”
Rob raised an eyebrow. “Bad timing?”
“You know what they say. There are no new ideas. I just hope
my latest gets to market before the competitors have the same bright idea.”
Though it didn’t seem likely, since her idea was based upon encounters with
Rob.
“Maybe someone stole your first idea,” he said thoughtfully.
“Hardly,” Melanie scoffed.
“At any rate, I can’t exactly wish you luck with your new
idea,” Rob said, shifting back on his heels.
“Why not?” What a rotten thing to say! Why would he say
that?
“Because the success of your product would mean your company
can offer my grandfather more money. And I wouldn’t want to tempt him further.”
Oh LeatherWorks again. “I don’t know anything about that
other than what you’ve told me.”
“Your company must have a very poor grapevine,” he said
sarcastically.
Melanie pointed a finger at him, frustrated by his one-track
mind. “There’s a lot of good in you, Rob. All that lovely rescuing of damsels
in distress, the way you kiss, but—” Melanie stopped herself, realizing what
she had just said.
Rob grinned. She looked up to see him smirking. “The way I
kiss? How do I kiss?”
“None of your business,” she retorted.
“Oh I think it is,” he oozed with a smarmy charm that didn’t
suit him. “Don’t pretend to be shy. I know you aren’t.”
I’m trying not to be, hot stuff. But I’m going back into
the shy and reserved zone if I can’t save my job
. “You’re paranoid, okay? I
hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“So you don’t think I’m looking for you?” Rob’s voice
lowered and Melanie suppressed a shiver.
“What’s that supposed to mean? You’ve got more important
things to worry about, like figuring out what you’re going to do when your
company is sold.” A string of curses rang through the air behind Melanie. A man
in a Mariner’s T-shirt kicked a slot machine and walked away.
“How about I take you to dinner and we spend some time
trying to figure each other out.” His voice flitted darkly through her ears,
tempting her, but she forced herself to pay attention to his words, not the
intentions suggested by his sexy intonation.
“I think I’ve got you figured out, Rob Black. You’re scared
and controlling all at the same time. I appreciate the rescues, but no one
cares enough about either of our little businesses to spy on each other or
steal.” He needed to stop concentrating on LeatherWorks, which appeared to be
slipping rapidly out of his grip, and think about new ventures. She honestly
felt a little sorry for him. Looking away, she glanced at a retiree who sat
down on the red leather stool the man in the T-shirt had just vacated and
popped in a quarter.
“If you don’t persuade me otherwise, I’m going to keep
believing what I believe.” He drew the words out as if to tease her.
“I proved to you once you were wrong about me, at least,”
she said, risking a quick glance at Tommy Joe who was still focused safely on
the poker machine. Next to her, the slot machine where the retiree now sat lit
up and a satisfying stream of coins showered into the metal coin holder.
If only she didn’t care what Rob thought. She couldn’t help
offering second chances to this man who made her whole body feel pliable and
willing. She didn’t want him to disappear forever. Melanie wanted a second
chance.
“Oh yeah,” he gave her a slow once-over. “You proved you
were a liar. You said you weren’t willing to get naked but you did.”
Melanie hoped he couldn’t see her hurt in her eyes. The
retiree exclaimed and dropped the coins into her purse then walked away.
Melanie blinked, suddenly realizing what he had meant was her showing Huntley
she didn’t have a birthmark that morning by the pool. She retorted, “I covered
up the good stuff.”
Rob’s laugh in response sounded so good, so rich and
velvety, that Melanie wanted to pull it around her and snuggle in it like a
fleece blanket in front of a fire.
“I liked the curve of your hip, Melanie.” He took a deep
breath. “And those legs. You have amazing legs. You didn’t cover up nearly enough
of the good stuff.”
Melanie’s eyes were glued to his expressive face. She could
tell the memory excited him. She wished they had another night in Vegas to run
into each other and do something crazy again. She wanted to satisfy him in an
elevator, while a bunch of tourists from Dubuque, Iowa, waited impatiently to
get on.
I don’t think there’s any part of you I don’t like. Except your
suspicious mind.
The public announcement system clicked and a voice came on
over the terminal. “Alaska Airlines Flight 643 is now pre-boarding at gate
A15.”
“That’s me,” Rob said, speaking over the rest of the
announcement as he quicksilver-changed back into a businessman. “Are you in
first class?”
Melanie shook her head no.
“Too bad.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and
tugged gently on her earlobe. “See you around. Somehow I doubt we’ve seen the
last of each other. After all, the deal between LeatherWorks and Professional
Massage isn’t signed yet.”
“You’re going to have to come up with a better reason to run
into me than that, Rob, because I’m not kidding. I’m not going to be involved.”
Melanie tried to smile. When would she meet the likes of him again? She was
almost sorry this business trip was over.
His eyes darkened and he shook his head. “I don’t believe it
for a second. We’ll meet again. I’m willing to bet every penny your boyfriend
lost in those slots just now that I’m right.”
Melanie chuckled at Rob’s description of Tommy Joe. Maybe
having Rob think that wasn’t such a bad idea—he thought she was in demand. “The
only reason for you and I to run into each other is the situation regarding my
cousin Brisa Vanderpool.” She held out her hand to Rob, who took it with a firm
grip. “Don’t think I’m going to ignore the fact that, in my opinion, she has an
unresolved harassment complaint against your company. Even if you weren’t
involved in any way, you’re still the CEO.”
Rob’s mouth twisted and he dropped her hand. “Why don’t you
take that up with your company? After all, they’ll be the owners soon.” He
turned on his boot heel and walked toward the gate.
Melanie was glad for the frisson of anger that shot through
her. She wanted to be angry with him. What other emotion could she possibly
have? She turned back to Tommy Joe.
* * * * *
“Daddy Bear,” Tida crooned. “Are you happy I am home?” She
spooned up against Al, spreading her hair across his shoulders as she ran a
red-lacquered finger down his morning erection.
“Papa Bear,” Al corrected. “I’m sorry you left.” He relaxed
into the mid-morning hedonism she offered. But afterward, the sun beat down hot
through the dormer windows and he was sticky, so he threw back the crumpled
white sheets and crossed to the bathroom. Once again he wished he had
remembered to put in air conditioning, even if he only needed it for the few weeks
out of the year that Seattle experienced summer.
“How did it go in Vegas?” he called from the bathroom. He
hoped Tida had gotten the exotic dance bug out of her system and that modeling
would be enough for her, though he doubted she’d had any luck. He felt Tida’s
slight body lean into him from behind, almost invisible as he looked into the
mirror. A younger man would have stiffened immediately at the sight of her
thickly perfumed jasmine hair cascading down to her rounded, tawny tush, but he
merely smiled and reached behind, running a hand over one peach-firm cheek.
“I found a better job,” she said, nuzzling his shoulder
blade.
“You’re going to be a LeatherWorks model?” Al asked,
surprised, though he had suggested she check into it. He had figured she wouldn’t
get the opportunity until the company was sold to Professional Massage and he
could pull some strings. He had mainly bought her the ticket to give her a
little excitement and time to think about whether she really wanted to change
jobs. Tida liked to play the exotic innocent, but he knew how her mind worked.
She thought out loud. Just because she said it didn’t mean she’d come to a
final conclusion.
Tida stepped out from behind him and shook her head at him
in the mirror. “No, I am not to be a model.”
Not surprising. Anita, his ex, had been a porn star for
years before getting a shot at a modeling contract with them. LeatherWorks was
the cream of the crop, which is why Al had suggested the purchase to
Professional Massage’s upper management when he heard they were on the block.
“Then what kind of job did you get?” he asked.
“Nurse assistant.” At Al’s raised eyebrow, she smiled.
“Fifty percent raise, Papa Bear, not bad.”
“Not bad,” Al repeated. He pushed away from the sink and
turned on the shower. “Where will you be working?” Was she going to move to
Vegas? That wouldn’t suit him at all.
Tida pulled two towels from the linen cupboard set into the
wall of the bathroom and stacked them on the heated towel rack. “In a private
home—the house of the owner of LeatherWorks.”
“No kidding.” That job wouldn’t last for long. After John
Black died they’d have to go through this all over again.
“Yes. The conference was a very interesting and profitable
experience.” She fixed him with her almond eyes as he was about to step into
the shower. “I met your former lover Anita. Very nice lady. I like her.”
“You met her?” For some reason, Al’s first instinct was to
cover his limp privates with his hands as he stood naked to his lover’s probing
eyes.
“Of course. I recognize her from her photograph on the mask
package you gave me for my birthday.”
Al swallowed and watched the corners of Tida’s mouth creep
up in a Mona Lisa smile. Gotcha.
“The Whipmaster is as beautiful as his picture,” said Tida,
changing the subject now she had made her point. “A California boy, but with a
dark soul, I think. Unhappy.”
Al pulled the shower curtain closed and mused over this
information as he stood under the showerhead. Could he trust her? Not really,
but she was greedy and he could use that.
“I told you the company was for sale, right?” he called out
over the sound of the water.
“Of course, Papa Bear,” Tida gave him a girlish giggle. “You
have clout.”
“Right. But I didn’t tell you the owner was dying.” Al
stepped out of the shower and pushed his hair out of his eyes. He held out a
towel but Tida held it in her arm.
“You tell me I should not take this job?” Tida asked, her
mouth set in a thin line. “It is temporary?”
Al snorted. “The man has cancer, Tida. He wants to sell
before he dies.”
“I do not think the Whipmaster knows this,” Tida said.
Al grabbed the other towel from the rack and mopped his
face. “What he thinks isn’t important. He’s not the owner and he’s a surly SOB
anyhow.”
“He does not want to lose his job, I think,” Tida said
absently, putting the towel she held onto the rack. She stepped into the
shower. She washed quickly then stepped out and grabbed her towel, clutching it
around herself. “Should I take the job?”
Al had never seen her unsure of herself before. But he
realized the situation had worked out perfectly for him as well as Professional
Massage.
“I’ll tell you what, Tida. Things aren’t as smooth as they
could be with the sale.” He could see Tida’s greedy brain mentally adding this
information to the picture of his net value to her. Dropping his towel, he put
his arm around her.
“Listen to me. You might hear something important.
Professional Massage needs to buy time. We think as John Black sickens, we can
force the price down, but we can’t wait so long that Rob Black gets enough
control to stop the sale.”
“So I am important to you?”
Al nodded. “Very important.”
“What do I get?” she smiled and ran a finger down his chest.
* * * * *
“Thanks for shopping with me, Brisa,” Melanie said as she
picked up her cousin Saturday morning.
“Where to?” Brisa asked, pulling a hair band around the end
of her long blonde braid.