Читать книгу Matchless Millionaires - Elizabeth Bevarly - Страница 9

Ryan figured if he kept talking, he wouldn’t get turned on.

Little Miss Sweet and Tart was the last woman he’d expected to discover inside the house, even if he’d had one heck of an erotic dream about her last night. In fact, for a second, when he’d first seen her, he figured he must still be dreaming.

He’d been ticked off this morning when he’d realized whom he’d been fantasizing about and that, combined with his current effort to hold those memories at bay, made him brusque.

“Meri said a decorator would be coming by,” he said icily, “but she also said whoever it was would ring the doorbell if she did.”

“I did ring the doorbell,” Kelly said defensively, “but I got no response.”

“I was in the hot tub,” he snarled, “and I didn’t hear you. Then when I did, it took me a minute to get inside to answer the door.”

“Clearly.”

Great, Ryan thought. It was the first time he’d had a chance to relax in a hot tub since he didn’t know when, and now he had to deal with her.

It didn’t help she was wearing some ridiculous getup that nevertheless managed to be provocative. She had on a white crewneck T-shirt, a long, highwaisted black skirt and black suspenders. The outfit was finished off with midcalf-length black leggings and black pumps.

Her generous breasts were framed by the high waist of the skirt and by the black suspenders. Damn.

“I rang three times,” she said.

“I heard only two.”

Her chin came up. “Are you suggesting I’m a liar?”

He smiled mirthlessly. “The apple usually doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Same thing goes.” She craned her neck. “Anyone out there with you?”

He frowned. “No.”

She stopped trying to see outside and gave him a cool look. “Well, I’m surprised.”

She went beyond irritating, he decided. And what’s more, if she was the decorator, then she’d be hanging around the entire time he was here. The realization came as a blow.

“I didn’t see a car,” she said.

“It’s in the garage.”

“Oh.”

He raked his hand through his hair. “How long is this damn decorating job supposed to last?”

Her lips tightened. “For several weeks, at least. And please try not to refer to it as ‘this damn’ anything. Some of us have to work or starve.”

“Or depend on the generosity of our friends,” he sneered.

He figured Brenda Hartley’s daughter could spot a sugar daddy as well as, if not better than, her mother. The two certainly looked alike. The pair shared the same voluptuous figure and dark-red hair—and the same siren voice calling men to their doom.

“Let’s keep family out of this,” she snapped.

“Can’t,” he responded. “You’re trying to shake some more fruit from that tree.”

“It’s a business deal!”

“Nothing for Webb Sperling is merely business when an attractive woman is involved.”

Her mouth fell open. “Are you suggesting I’m putting out?”

He raised his eyebrows and she sucked in an outraged breath.

“I don’t put out for anyone,” she bit out. “Besides, if the newspapers are to be believed, you’re just one of many family members who owns a minority interest in Sperling, Inc., so there’s not much you can do about my contract with Sperling stores.”

“It’s not a contract yet, sugar.”

Despite her bravado, he sensed her worry he might be able to do something to cause her deal with Webb Sperling to fall through. The hardened business executive in him knew better than to tip his hand, however.

“Look,” she said, “I don’t like this arrangement any more than you do. Let’s just agree to stay out of each other’s way. Next time, I’ll ring the doorbell until someone responds or call in advance or whatever.”

“Nice to hear, but there won’t be a next time.” He picked up the cordless phone sitting nearby. “I’m calling the caretaker and getting this project postponed or, better yet, cancelled.”

The longer he stood in front of her nearly naked, the harder it was to keep thoughts of sex at bay, which fueled his ire, both at her and at himself.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, hurrying forward.

She stopped an arm’s length away, visibly fuming as he dialed the cell number Meri had given him.

When Meri picked up after a couple of rings, Ryan spelled out the problem, his eyes on Kelly.

“But I don’t understand,” Meri said. “I explained the decorating project to you previously by phone, and you had no problem with it.”

“That was before I knew who you’d hired. Ms. Hartley and I have—” how the hell was he supposed to describe it? “—a history. Or rather, we don’t, but a couple of family members do.”

He had no idea why he was protecting the old man by not bringing his name directly into it. The bastard deserved to have his dirty laundry aired.

“Just think of us as friends of the bride and groom, respectively, after there’s been a divorce,” he told Meri smoothly, regaining some of his cool. “We’re on two different sides of the fence.”

The caretaker sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s out of my hands. Ms. Hartley’s been hired by the Hunter Palmer Foundation. The timeline for getting this decorating job done has been spelled out because we wanted to inconvenience the guests as little as possible. By the time you get all this sorted out with the lawyers for the Foundation, your stay will be over. I’m sorry.”

Damn it. Into the phone, he said curtly, “Understood.”

When he hung up, Kelly asked apprehensively,

“Well?”

He contemplated her for a moment. “You’re here for the duration—” She looked relieved.

“—just make sure to stay out of my way. I want you to let me know when you’re showing up—and ring the damn doorbell!”

With those words, he stomped out of the room and up the staircase to the master suite so he could get some clothes on.

His stay in Tahoe was getting off to a rotten start. First, running into Kelly Hartley, and now finding out she’d be wandering around the lodge for the month.

And attending a wedding yesterday hadn’t helped.

Having grown up observing his parents’ bad marriage, Ryan had never been one for wedding celebrations. Still, he hadn’t been able to say no when Dev had asked him to act as his best man. He knew he would have to go to Tahoe anyway to begin his month-long stay at the lodge.

Though even a harsh cynic about happily-ever-after like himself had to admit that Nicole and Dev were well matched, yesterday’s wedding was about as close as he ever wanted to come to the altar.

As he made his way down the upstairs hallway, he glanced at a framed photo of Hunter that hung on the wall.

Damn Hunter. Why couldn’t his old buddy have just given a big pile of cash to charity and been done with it? Why rope all his old college friends into this ridiculous lodge-sitting relay?

It didn’t make sense.

Still, he’d agreed to come to the lodge, willing to trust that his fraternity buddy had had his reasons. Hunter had in many ways been the deepest thinker in their group.

And the fact that honoring Hunter’s will would benefit cancer patients and survivors had been an added incentive. Ryan had been a generous contributor to various charities to fight cancer his whole adult life.

On top of it all, because of his own mother’s untimely death from breast cancer when he’d been seventeen, he was a sucker for honoring an old friend’s dying wish.

Kelly watched Ryan leave.

Jerk.

Then a sinking feeling settled in her stomach.

She couldn’t believe she had to decorate while he was staying here!

She’d been so full of enthusiasm for this project. Now her excitement lay like broken china on the polished wood floor.

And yet, she couldn’t forget her initial reaction when he’d walked through the French doors wearing only a towel. Before he’d opened his mouth, heat had shimmered through her and she’d felt the instinctive primal pull of woman to man.

Ryan’s chest had been dappled plains, his biceps pronounced and his legs all corded muscle—as if he worked out but wasn’t obsessive about it.

There hadn’t been an inch of excess on him. Well, except for, perhaps, under the white towel riding low on his hips and serving as a startling contrast to the warm tone of his skin.

She heated at the thought, then stopped short.

She had to remember who Ryan was and who she was.

She could not be attracted to Ryan Sperling.

She wasn’t like her mother. She wasn’t looking for a quick roll in the sack with a rich guy who’d throw a few trinkets her way and then toss her aside without a second glance. She’d built her life refusing to be that stupid, that careless … that promiscuous.

And even if she were to be, it would be unwise for her to get involved with Ryan Sperling, the son of her mother’s former lover and a man who clearly disdained her.

She hated Ryan’s contemptuous attitude.

What had he said? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

He knew nothing about her. Nothing about how hard she’d worked and how far she’d come.

And anyway, if she was mired in mud, so was he. He was the son of a consummate adulterer.

Added to that, she’d caught the momentary flare of attraction in his eyes when he’d spotted her today. Even knowing who she was, he hadn’t been able to contain it.

Her lips curved without humor. Ryan Sperling was attracted to her, as much as he might hate the fact. Her feminine intuition told her so.

With that thought, she headed toward the unfinished bedrooms. She spent the next half hour measuring the rooms and their respective bathrooms.

She already had some idea of the pieces she’d use to furnish the rooms, but she needed to make sure they’d all fit. She hadn’t had time to take measurements on her cursory walk-through with Meri.

When she was done measuring, she stood in the middle of the last room, contemplating.

She knew she’d use Woolrich wool plaid for the curtains and some of the upholstery, accenting and contrasting with some flower and solid prints. She also needed an accent piece or two and had already thought of a deep red leather chair for this particular room.

The house, with its polished wood walls and multiple fireplaces, needed warm tones. Big, comfy furniture would add the finishing touch to its inviting feel.

Her planned theme would fit with the decor in the other rooms of the house, as well as be in keeping with local tastes. Though it wasn’t the style she favored for Distressed Success, which had a more feminine appeal, it wasn’t a big leap for her creatively, either. She’d lived in Tahoe for several years and become familiar with the local styles.

When her cell phone rang she responded absently. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Erica said. “Just wanted to touch base. How are you doing?”

“You’ll never believe who’s staying here,” Kelly responded, her voice lowering. The walls were thick, but she didn’t want to risk Ryan overhearing her conversation.

“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Erica said with a laugh. “I have two kids at home. I may not live to see tomorrow.”

“Ryan Sperling.”

“What?”

“Under the circumstances, I think I can claim the shorter life expectancy,” she said with morbid humor. “It’s going to kill me to work here with him around.”

Ryan had loved Hunter like a brother, but that didn’t prevent him from cursing his old friend over the next few days.

He was holed up in the master suite, trying without success to ignore the noises coming from other parts of the house.

If Kelly hadn’t been here, he would have been talking to his longtime lawyer, Dan Etherington, from the great room downstairs. Or while lounging on the outdoor deck. Or while ensconced in the office loft.

Instead, he was organizing a clandestine operation out of his temporary bedroom.

“Will he sell?” he said into the phone.

His father’s cousin Oliver had been the last holdout among the family members he’d approached with an offer to buy their shares in Sperling retail stores for an outlandish amount.

The others had gone quietly, tempted by a payday that would permit them to live out their days on a perpetual holiday in Saint-Tropez. They knew Webb Sperling’s inflated ego would never permit him to take the family company public, allowing them to each make real money from the sale of their ownership stakes. A sale to another family member—even an estranged black sheep such as Ryan—was the only type of transfer that wasn’t restricted by the bylaws of the corporation.

“He’s finally been persuaded, it seems,” Dan replied.

Ryan laughed mirthlessly. “Must be my charm.”

Oliver had lived a life devoted to fast cars, fast women and fast cash for all of his fifty-nine years. The only thing that set him apart from Webb Sperling was the lack of a managerial position in the family company.

“The charm of your greenbacks is more like it,” Dan responded drily.

With the acquisition of Oliver’s share in Sperling department stores, Ryan would have finally and quietly acquired enough shares for a controlling interest.

Enough shares, he thought with a rush of triumph, to oust Webb Sperling.

His hand tightened on the receiver. He could taste victory and the flavor was sweet. Still, years of playing corporate hardball had taught him to rein in his emotions—and not count on anything until he was ready to spring the trap.

Though other family members, aside from Oliver, were already on board, Ryan was waiting to take the final step in purchasing their shares until he could count on Oliver’s. He wanted to make sure Webb Sperling remained in the dark until the last possible moment, when he’d be presented with Ryan’s ownership as a done deal.

He was also counting on the fact that there was no love lost between Webb and other family members to keep Webb clueless.

“People want to sell while they can,” Dan went on. “You’re benefiting from the impression among family members that Webb Sperling is content to sit on his laurels and isn’t doing much to keep Sperling stores ahead of competitors.”

“My father has been mismanaging things since he took the helm of the company a decade ago,” Ryan responded. “For things to be different, he’d have had to show a discipline he’s never possessed.”

Webb Sperling had become CEO and chairman of the board of Sperling department stores upon the untimely death from a heart attack of his older brother—Ryan’s uncle—who’d succeeded Ryan’s grandfather.

The general impression in the corporate world was that Webb was an absentee CEO and that much of the work and decision making was done by those lower in command.

“Well, you finally hit the magic number for Oliver,” Dan noted.

“Everyone’s got his price,” Ryan said cynically. “Now that Oliver’s given us his verbal okay, I want the transfer of shares done ASAP. The last thing I need is for him to change his mind.”

“I’m sending the paperwork to his attorney as we speak,” Dan replied.

After ending his call with Dan, Ryan glanced around the room.

A noise from downstairs alerted him to the fact that Kelly was still in the house.

Damn it.

He felt trapped. It was a feeling he was unaccustomed to and he didn’t like it.

Suddenly a loud thud sounded from another part of the house.

Ryan swore and strode to the door.