Читать книгу The Baby Claim - Catherine Mann - Страница 9

One

“Do you live to infuriate me, or is it a pleasant pastime for when you’re not wining and dining the single females of Alaska?”

Glenna Mikkelson-Powers splayed her hands on her day planner to avoid launching herself from behind her mahogany desk to confront Broderick Steele.

Being so close to the man had never been a wise idea.

The sensual draw was too strong for any woman to resist for long and stay sane. His long wool duster over his suit was pure Hugo Boss. But the cowboy hat and leather boots had a hint of wear that only increased his appeal. His dark hair, which attested to his quarter Inuit heritage, showed the first signs of premature gray. His charisma and strength were as vast as the Alaska tundra he and she both called home.

In a state this large, there should have been enough space for both of them. Theoretically, they should never have to cross paths. But their feuding families’ constant battle over dominance of the oil industry kept Glenna and Broderick in each other’s social circles.

Too often for her peace of mind.

Even so, he’d never shown up at her office before.

She pressed her hands harder against her day planner and fixed him with her best icy stare. “I have an assistant. Zeke—the grandfatherly looking gentleman—can announce you. Or you can knock. At least attempt some semblance of a normal greeting.”

Not that anything about Broderick was in any way calm or normal.

“First of all—” he tossed his snow-dusted hat on her desk “—I do not live to infuriate anyone. Your assistant wasn’t out there.”

Glenna glanced through the open door and found his statement to be true. She repressed her inclination to roll her eyes anyway. Surely Broderick could have waited for Zeke to return instead of barging in here.

“Second...” He peeled off his leather gloves one at a time, revealing callused hands. A man of brawn, he also happened to have an extraordinary chief finance officer aptitude that had served his family’s business well. “...I am far too busy to have the sort of sex life you’ve attributed to me.”

That dried up any words she might have spoken, and made her stomach flip more than it should have.

“Third, Glenna, I have no idea why you’re acting like the injured party when I’m the one who had a bombshell dropped on my desk today.” He leaned closer, the musky scent of his cologne teasing her senses like breathing in smoky warmth on a cold day. “Although once we sort this out, let’s come back to the obsession you have with my sex life.”

Light caught the mischief in his eyes, bringing out whiskey tones in the dark depths. His full lips pulled upward in a haughty smile.

“You’re being highly unprofessional.” She narrowed her own eyes, angry at her reaction to him as she drank in his familiar arrogance.

Their gazes held and the air crackled. She remembered the feeling all too well from their Romeo-and-Juliet fling in college.

Doomed from the start.

And yet...those memories had never faded.

One weekend long ago. A passionate couple of days in her attic apartment. Fireplace blazing. Snow piling on the skylight.

Steam filling the shared shower stall.

Still, those two days were nothing compared to the love she’d felt for her late husband during her six-year marriage. The deep emotional connection, the respect they’d felt for one another. The work they’d invested in overcoming hardships.

And the grief they’d shared over their inability to conceive a child.

Her job was everything to her now. Glenna refused to put it at risk, especially for Broderick.

He was her rival. He wanted his family’s business to dominate the oil industry and she simply could not allow that. She was the CFO of Mikkelson Oil, and she’d make sure her family’s business came out on top.

His mesmerizing eyes and broody disposition would not distract her.

She eased back in her chair. “This is the last time I will ask you. What are you doing in my office?”

“Like you don’t know.” He dropped a large envelope on top of her day planner. “What would you call this?”

“Mail,” she said, giving herself time to figure out his game.

So much had been upended in the company since her father had died of a heart attack two years ago. So much loss. First her father, then her husband. She’d been left reeling. But if she allowed grief to consume her, Mikkelson Oil would lose out...to Broderick.

“Do you care to elaborate?” she asked.

He shrugged, his starched white shirt rustling against his broad shoulders.

“Printouts, technically, with some kind of bogus report on a stock share buyout. It makes no damn sense, but my people have traced it back to your office.”

She reached into a drawer, pulled out a manila envelope and placed it next to his file.

“Really?” She tapped the envelope. “Because I could ask you about a similar buyout. In reverse.”

His forehead furrowed before he dropped into one of the two leather club chairs in front of her desk. “Our companies are exchanging shares? That doesn’t make sense.”

She jabbed a manicured finger in his direction. “Your father is up to something and I don’t appreciate this push-back since my dad died. It’s sexist to assume we’re weaker without a man at the helm.”

Her shoulders went back defensively as she sat taller and straighter. She would not allow Broderick Steele or his father to intimidate her.

“You talk about sex a lot.” He tipped his arrogant head to the side and glanced at the yellow sofa tucked behind him. One damn look loaded with suggestion.

“Shut up and listen to me.” She barely resisted the urge to stamp her foot.

“I am. It’s fun to watch your cheeks go pink.” He clapped a hand to his chest. “And by the way, my mother always told me it’s rude to tell people to shut up.” A sardonic smile played along his lips.

“Rude? Talking about sex in a business meeting is rude.” She scooped up a brass paperweight in the shape of a bear that had belonged to her father. Shifting it from hand to hand was an oddly comforting ritual. Or perhaps not so odd. When she was a small girl, her father had told her the statue gave people power, attributing his success to the brass bear. After the last two years of loss, Glenna needed every ounce of luck and power she could get. “I’m not in line to join the Alaskan female dating population ready to fawn over you.”

“I didn’t ask you to, and there’s no need to threaten me with your version of brass knuckles. You’re safe with me.” Humor left his face and his expression became all business. “But since you’re as bemused by this data as I am, come with me to speak to your mother.”

“Of course. Let’s do that. We’ll have this sorted out in no time.”

The sooner the better.

She wanted Broderick Steele out of her office and not a simple touch away.

* * *

Broderick was pushing his luck with Glenna, but this woman got to him in a way no one else ever had.

When they were in college, he’d told himself it was the warring-families, forbidden-fruit thing that had drawn them to each other. Except, he still craved her.

Usually he kept those feelings in check by staying as far away from this particular blonde bombshell as possible.

But today he’d received disturbing paperwork about stocks changing hands.

“Are you ready to speak to your mother about this now? We need to know who on your board, or on mine, is messing with our companies.”

She looked up, her blue eyes as crystal clear as the Alaska sky after a storm. “Yes, absolutely, the sooner the better. She’s here today. I met with her earlier this morning.” Glenna nodded, rose and stepped to the front of her desk.

Holy hell. He damn near swallowed his tongue.

Her pencil skirt hugged her curves and set his imagination on fire. The suit jacket plunged, and even though a white blouse covered almost all her skin, that V... He forced his eyes away out of respect.

And to preserve his sanity.

“After you,” he said.

He worked to keep himself in check, to stay steady even though proximity to her sent him reeling. He followed her past a sitting area in her office with that yellow sofa and two chairs clustered around a fireplace.

She glanced over her shoulder, blond hair swishing in a golden curtain. “Mother’s office is two floors up. We’ll settle this. Not to worry.”

Without another word, she charged through the door, boot heels muted against the plush carpet. The wall of windows along one side of the corridor provided an awe-inspiring view of the mountains. It might be spring everywhere else in America. But here in Alaska, snow still capped the peaks.

Sunshine streamed through the windows and over Glenna. To keep his eyes off her swaying hips and the killer leather boots, he checked out the art on the other wall. Yet again he was struck by the differences between the Mikkelson corporate offices and his family’s building on the other side of Anchorage’s business district. The Steele headquarters had a more modern look, sleek and tall in a way that reminded him of his home state, like an ice sculpture filled with coal and grit and gold.

The Mikkelson offices harkened back to old-school Alaska, with a rugged elegance denoted by pelt rugs and wooden furniture heavy enough to remind people nothing fragile lasted in this land. To make it here, you had to be born of sturdy stock.

The file crinkled in his grip as they walked, reminding him why he was here. What did his father know? Broderick hadn’t been able to find him this morning, and he’d tried hard. Damn hard.

Lately, his dad had been distracted and inaccessible. Unusually so, and at the worst possible time. Bids were going up for the major pipeline from Alaska to the Dakotas. This wasn’t just about money or energy independence. It was also about keeping projects ecologically friendly, making sure the land they loved and called home was protected.

They were a family of engineers and ecologists, working like hell to present a balanced plan.

Broderick knew his reputation for being a cold bastard, but he didn’t see the point in getting emotionally invested in anything—or anyone—outside of work.

Something had gone haywire in him when his sister died. He understood it intellectually, but that didn’t make it easier to get past. Maybe if he hadn’t lost his mother at the same time, she might have helped him find his way out of the maze where he sabotaged relationship after relationship. Now his dating life consisted of women who had no interest in anything more than being casual.

Glenna often stated—emphatically—that she was all about her job. He understood. He was married to his work, too.

That’s why this ridiculous rumor of a merger had to be squelched.

“You don’t act like most number crunchers.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Practical, you mean?”

“I guess. You’re just so...outrageous. Illogical. Unpredictable.” She picked up her pace.

“And you are very much a buttoned-up numbers gal.” Heat fired inside him as he thought of a time he’d unbuttoned her, very thoroughly.

She seemed to read his mind. “Keep your eyes forward, cowboy.”

“Do you think I brought a hidden camera to steal secret formulas from your office?”

He met her eyes full on and found those blue depths too alluring. Something about them made words slip out before he could stop them. “I would very much like to know your secret desires.”

Her breathing deepened, her chest rising and falling quickly. She licked her lips. “I prefer we keep things all business. Do you think you can respect my wishes for at least the next half hour? If not, we’ll be doing this meeting via videoconference.”

He nodded, backing up a step, knowing he was playing with fire. Still, she was right about him being unpredictable. Despite the complications, he found himself plotting to press for more from her. Later, of course. Timing was everything.

“Of course I’ll respect your wishes.”

“I wish I could trust that,” she said softly, before walking to the elevator and pushing the button.

Her words stung. Did she think so little of him? He joined her at the elevator, watching her, musing.

She felt for a hairpin, tucking it inside a sweep of hair that pushed the golden length over one shoulder. Her pale pink nail polish was barely perceptible. Classy. Understated. Like her. “I can’t help but be concerned about you getting an insider’s peek at our business and financials.”

The elevator dinged, the doors slid open and she stepped inside.

He joined her in the circular enclosure, which provided a panoramic view of the harbor with a few boats still floating between chunks of ice. “Maybe you should worry about your files. There are all sorts of cloning devices for computers and—”

“I’ll have the security guards strip-search you on the way out.”

Just as he’d decided her word choice was accidental, she glanced back over her shoulder, blue eyes glimmering with mischief.

Heat spread and he moved to her side, ducking his head toward hers. “Will you personally supervise the search? Lucky for me I wore my favorite comic-character boxer shorts.”

She arched one delicate blond eyebrow. She’d always had a way of putting a person in his place quietly, succinctly. “You flatter yourself.”

“I dream, oh lady, I dream.”

She tipped her head, her eyebrows pulling together. “I have to ask. Do you treat all business professionals this way?”

“Only the business professionals I’ve already had an affair with. Actually, strike that.” He held up a hand. “Only you. Everyone else at work, it’s all business.”

“A poor choice during one weekend in college is not the same as an affair.” Her hands on her hips accentuated her curves in that killer power suit.

He ached to peel it off her.

Broderick clapped a hand to his chest. “You wound me. That weekend is my benchmark for all other relationships. Every woman falls short after you.”

Had he really said that out loud? It had almost felt like he’d meant it.

He was saved from pondering that uncomfortable thought when the elevator bell dinged. They’d reached their destination.

Glenna surprised him by pressing the button to keep the doors closed. “Your board of directors may buy your bull, but I’m not fooled by your smooth talk.”

She was right. Whatever he was doing with her, it had no place in the office.

But they were in the elevator. Alone.

He was not one to let an opportunity pass by.

He stepped closer, inhaling the scent of her. Almonds... Unexpected. Sensual. “What if I’m serious?”

Her eyes widened before she touched his elbow. “Then I am so very sorry you were hurt.” Her throat moved with a swallow. Then her elegant nose scrunched and she pointed a slim finger at him. “But I’m not buying that line about all women falling short. Now stop playing me and let’s speak to my mother.”

Glenna let the elevator open, then charged ahead of him around a corner to an empty receptionist’s desk. “I’m not sure where Sage is—”

Glenna’s young cousin Sage Hammond rounded the corner just then, smoothing her simple turtleneck sweater dress as she took her place at her chair. “I’ve been away from my desk. I was meeting with your assistant in the tech department. I’m sorry to have left things unattended. Your mother was busy with a call when I left.” She tapped the phone console, strands of her whispy blond hair falling across her shoulders. “But the light’s off now so she must be finished, if you wish to go inside.”

Broderick nodded. “Thank you, Miss Hammond.”

Glenna muttered, “Eyes off my cousin,” as she reached for the door handle of the next office.

Jealous? Interesting. “I don’t pluck wings off butterflies.”

Glenna’s sky-blue eyes shifted with something he couldn’t name, just briefly, then she turned away and walked into her mother’s office.

The interior held more of that Mikkelson charm. Antiques and splashes of light green filled the room, as if to bring life inside. Two walls of windows let sunlight stream into the corner office, and more rays poured through a skylight. Outside, the streets teemed with people, cars and even an ambling moose.

But the office itself was empty.

“Mom? I’m here with Broderick Steele. There’s been a misunderstanding, a rumor we need to clear up.” Glenna looked around. “I know she’s here. There’s her leather portfolio bag and her coat, even her cashmere scarf. She must be getting coffee.”

Or in the powder room? Glenna’s gaze flicked to the private bathroom.

Muffled sounds came from within, like a shower maybe, soft and indistinctive. Steam seeped from under the door as if the water had been running a long time. A moan filtered through. From an enjoyable shower? Or was that a sound of pain? He wasn’t sure.

Broderick backed into the sitting area, away from the line of sight of the bathroom. “I’ll step out so you can check on her. If you need any help, just say the word.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that. Mom?” Concern laced Glenna’s voice. “Mom, are you okay?”

There was no answer.

Glenna looked at Broderick. “I hate to just burst in, but if she’s ill... If it’s an emergency...”

“Your call. Do you want me to leave?” Maybe health issues might explain the strange business behavior.

“How about you stay back, but nearby in case I need to send you for Sage.” Glenna tapped lightly on the door. “Mother, it’s me. Are you all right?”

He studied the top of his boots, keeping his eyes averted.

“Mother, I’m worried. I don’t want to embarrass you, but I need to know you’re okay. I’m coming in.”

When the doorknob rattled, Broderick glanced up and saw Glenna shaking her head. His concern ratcheted a notch higher.

“It’s locked.” She knocked harder on the door. “Mom, you’re scaring me. Open up. Please.” She reached into her pocket. “I’m going to use my master key to come in.” She opened the door—and squeaked.

She clapped a hand over her mouth, launching Broderick into motion. He rushed forward and rested a palm on her back, ready to help with whatever crisis might be unfolding.

Glenna pressed a steadying hand on the bathroom door frame. “Mom?”

Broderick stopped short. Blinked. Blinked again. And holy crap, he still couldn’t believe his eyes.

Glenna might have been surprised, but Broderick was stunned numb. He even braced his booted feet because his world had done a somersault.

Jeannie Mikkelson stood wrapped in a towel in the steam-filled, white-tiled bathroom, and she wasn’t alone.

An all-too-familiar figure edged in front of her—pushing Glenna’s mother safely behind his broad chest.

Confused, Broderick couldn’t stop himself from asking the obvious. “Dad?”