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CHAPTER THREE

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“YOUR DESIGN IS LOVELY.”

The next Monday after work, Savannah stood in Rett’s pristine workshop for their regularly scheduled lesson, watching as he held her sketch, turning it this way and that to view it from all angles.

“The setting will look great in gold, intertwined but independent with the classic emerald anchoring the middle. The symmetry is aesthetically beautiful. Your sister is going to love this piece,” he told her.

“Thank you.” Satisfaction and excitement made her giddy. But anxiety kept her grounded. She intended the pendant and earrings as a gift for Claudia’s graduation, so Savannah needed it to be perfect. “You don’t think it’s too ambitious?”

He hit her with amused blue eyes. “You passed ambitious when you decided to design the pieces in the first place, so don’t get wimpy on me now.”

“I’m not.” His approval of her design only made her more determined to finish the project. “But my skills are pretty new. I played around with beading when I was younger but this is the first time I’ve worked with precious gems.”

“Relax, you’re a natural. Your designs are busy enough to have interest but simple enough to have classic appeal. Plus I’ll be doing the actual gem work.”

“I know and I really appreciate it.” She smiled sheepishly at him; it was strange relying on someone else’s opinion of her work. His praise felt good, but at the same time it was hard being judged. She focused on the positive. “Someday I want to learn to facet, too.”

“Why don’t you take it one step at a time? Here, let me show you something.” He walked across his workroom and unlocked a drawer under the counter running the length of the wall. He pulled out a small, clear box and brought it over to her.

“Open it.” He placed the box in her hands.

Through the clear container she saw a brilliant green. Curious, she flipped the lid. Inside nestled a set of emerald earrings. Round cuts in an intricate swirl of yellow gold.

“This is my design!” Her gaze flew up to meet his.

He nodded. “You left your drawing on the counter last week.”

“You made my design into real jewelry?” she demanded, both surprised and proud.

“That is what we do here at Sullivans’ Jewels,” he reminded her with a smile.

“Yeah, but I’m an amateur.”

“Yes, it is, and yes, you are,” a deep voice said from the doorway. Rick wove his way around the worktables in the middle of the workshop to reach them. “You’re working with novices now?” he asked his brother in disbelief.

“We all start somewhere. But don’t worry. She’s good. See for yourself.” Rett handed Rick the earrings. Turning back to Savannah he assured her, “This is a great design, but you may want to wait to make a decision on which design you use until after we’ve had a few more lessons.”

“Good idea.” Chewing her bottom lip, she watched Rick as he inspected her work. Talk about being judged. Rett, at least, was an artist, but Rick was all business, he’d look at her work from an entirely different perspective. She told herself she respected his knowledge and his taste.

And still she held her breath.

“These are nice, very elegant. I’m impressed,” Rick said. He pinned Savannah with a pointed stare. “So this is what you two have been up to.”

Ignoring his comment, she focused on his approval: Rick’s words of praise made her feel like a diamond, valuable and brilliant.

“Why are you down here, Rick?” Rett asked, taking the earrings back.

“I received some news. The Emerson Group is pulling out of our international deal.”

“What the heck?” Rett exclaimed, his hands going to his hips in an automatic, challenging stance.

She understood his confusion. She’d heard how long and hard they’d worked on the international anniversary event and suddenly it was null and void?

“What happened?” Rett asked. “Jack Emerson seemed excited by the alliance. I can’t believe he changed his mind.”

“Jack suffered a heart attack last week. That’s why we hadn’t received the final documents. His board of directors invoked the rescission clause,” Rick said heavily.

“Oh, my God.” Savannah had talked to Emerson a couple of times; she’d liked the older man, finding his bluntness and honesty refreshing. “Is he okay?”

“He had triple bypass surgery. He’s home and doing fine, but he has some recovery ahead of him.”

“Man, I’m sorry.” Rett shook his head, showing his support with a clap on Rick’s shoulder. “You’ve worked so hard on this deal.”

Savannah knew months had gone into Rick’s plans to lease international sites for Sullivans’ Jewels. In the last ten years, he’d taken the family-owned company national by opening stores in Beverly Hills, San Francisco, Las Vegas, Dallas, Chicago and New York. To celebrate the company’s one-hundredth anniversary, he intended to take the company international. That plan might be in jeopardy now.

“Too hard to give up now,” Rick answered grimly. “I’ve gone through the notes on our alternative choices. I like Crosse International as a close second. Albert Crosse has agreed to meet with me next Tuesday. That gives us a week to regroup and put together a new plan. Savannah, I need you to pull the notes from our earlier negotiations. I want a list of our points of agreement and dispute.”

“Of course. Rick, you know I’ll work over the weekend if necessary to be ready for the meeting.”

“Thanks.” Even distracted he sent her a brief glance of appreciation. “But we’ll be traveling over the weekend. Our meeting with Crosse is in London. Since I had the trip planned, he’s offered us a suite at his London hotel. You’ll need to cancel the other reservations.”

“We?” she exclaimed.

“Yes, I’ll need you to go with me.”

“London.” Stunned, Savannah sank onto a nearby stool, pictures of Big Ben, Buckingham Palace and Westminster Abbey flowing through her mind.

“Savannah?” Rick brought her back to the moment.

Everything was moving so quickly she had to stop and clarify. “You want me to come with you to England?”

“I’ll need you there, yes.” He leaned back against the work counter, his gaze running over her. Not that he saw her; his mind was clearly on business strategy.

“I can handle the change in reservations, but I’m not sure I can get on the same flight as you.” The thought of traveling with him gave Savannah mixed feelings. A trip to Europe thrilled her. Being alone with him really didn’t.

“Then change my flight.” Rick glanced at his watch. “Can you stay? I want you working on the Crosse deal full-time. If we’re going to meet our deadline of opening the first international store by November next year, this deal has to close by the end of December.” Leading the way out of the workshop, he outlined their timeline. “That gives us two weeks to finalize the negotiations and site the European stores.”

“I’ll get started right away,” she said.

Savannah couldn’t believe her luck. Being involved in these new negotiations really gave her a chance to prove herself in the job. And it would look really good on her résumé. Not to mention the exciting trip to England.

Okay so she’d be sharing a suite with Rick. But with so much on the line, surely she could control her hormones for a week?

Thursday night Rick sat brooding in his office. He’d had one ambition when he took over as CEO of Sullivans’ Jewels: to make the family business so strong it would never be vulnerable again.

As it had been under his father’s control.

The store almost went under after his parents’ death. Gram held it together with grit and sheer determination. Rick and his brothers had helped where they could. He and Rett had only been ten, but they’d gone into the store with her on weekends. And when they got older they put in more time. He’d helped Gram while Rett hung out in the design workshop.

And when Gram announced her retirement and handed the company over to him, he’d made the hard choice to put family first. He’d sacrificed his engagement in order to stay in San Diego and take over Sullivans’ Jewels.

Maybe when they celebrated the company’s one-hundredth anniversary in their first international store, he’d feel he’d finally succeeded where good old Dad had failed.

By rescinding their offer, Emerson had cost Rick six months toward the completion of his goal. Now, in order to meet his December deadline, he needed to hit the floor running.

Savannah had really come through for him these past few days. With her help he’d restructured the package for Crosse International, including acceptable concessions for being second choice. When they touched down in England, they’d take Crosse by siege.

A knock sounded at the open door as Savannah entered the room. He watched as she strolled toward him across the office floor.

“Here are the profit and loss statements for the past two years. Accounting is still working on the amended projections for this year. I set up an appointment with the CFO for tomorrow morning.” She handed him the files then sat and crossed her legs, waiting for a response.

With determined professionalism he looked away from the tempting sight of her navy skirt inching over her knees onto her thighs.

After reviewing the documents, he tossed the file on his desk. The action startled Savannah, catching her in the middle of a yawn. Sometime during the day she’d removed her jacket, but otherwise she looked as fresh and serene as when she’d walked through the door this morning.

He winced when a glance at the clock revealed that had been close to thirteen hours ago.

The overhead light cast fiery highlights in her dark red hair, drawing his attention. She wore the mahogany mass up on her head but this late in the day escaping tendrils cascaded over her neck and brow. Maybe not so fresh after all, but sexy.

Way too sexy. And touchable.

He definitely had no business wanting to touch her.

He needed to give the woman a dress code, he thought with an inward groan, one that included oversized jackets and buttoned-up shirts. Looking at all the toned, creamy-white skin revealed by the light gold, sleeveless, scoop-necked blouse, he knew he needed to change the course of his thoughts or risk embarrassing himself.

They’d been working together since before seven this morning and it was after eight at night now. A repeat of the past two days. What he needed, what they both needed, was a break.

As if on cue, Rett strolled through the door. “You guys still working? I thought you said you had the proposal pretty much wrapped.”

Rick leaned back in his chair.

“We do. The attorney has it. We’ll get his comments in the morning and go through it one last time. I was just going to suggest we call it a night and start out fresh tomorrow.” That was good, that should end the torment of the day.

Except Rett had other ideas. “Hey, you have a fifteen-hour flight on Saturday. You’ll be begging for something to do to fill the time. Save your review for then and give Savannah tomorrow off.”

“Wait a minute,” Rick protested.

“Come on.” Rett dropped into the second visitor’s chair. “I bet she’s already put in over forty hours. With all the overtime she probably hasn’t even had a chance to pack. Have you?” He directed the question to Savannah.

“What?” Her eyes grew big as the attention centered on her. “Oh, well actually—”

“See.” Rett waved a triumphant hand. “Think about it,” he tossed at Rick. “In the meantime, why don’t I call and make reservations for the three of us for dinner. You both deserve a decent break.”

“I really should head home.” With a weary sigh Savannah rose to her feet, drawing Rick’s attention once again to her blouse, and the way sunshine clung to her breasts. Much as he strived for professional detachment, yellow had just become his new favorite color.

“No, join us,” Rett insisted. “You’ve worked hard. Let us treat you to dinner.”

She hesitated for a moment and then smiled. “Okay, you only have to ask me twice. Why don’t I meet you at the restaurant? Then I can just leave from there.”

They finalized plans and Rick insisted on walking her to her car. Then he followed her to his favorite steak house, silently cursing his brother’s interference.

Rick disliked mixing business with pleasure, and dinner with Savannah definitely blurred the edges of personal and professional. Her performance this week had surprised him; he could admit that. And despite the occasional distraction of her stunning legs or the sweet scent of her shampoo, they’d accomplished an amazing amount of work. She’d stayed calm and often anticipated him, providing reports and stats before he could ask.

Dinner should be innocent enough with Rett along.

Yeah, strictly business. In fact, he’d use dinner to discuss options on where they should open the first international store.

Unfortunately just as he reached the restaurant Rett called to say he couldn’t make it after all. Rick couldn’t help but curse.

Savannah waited just inside the door, buttoned into her jacket, her hair once again neat and tidy.

“Rett blew us off for a date, so I guess that leaves just you and me,” Rick said bluntly.

She bit her lip, drawing his attention to the plump, pink perfection of her mouth. “Maybe I should just go home. It’s been a long day.”

He should grab the offer, but the weariness in her sea-green eyes got to him. “No, stay. You have to eat and this will be better than some fast food you pick up on the way home.” Not waiting for an answer, he settled his hand in the small of her back and indicated to the maître d’ they needed a table for two.

She quickly stepped ahead of him, leaving him with a view of her gently swaying hips as he followed her to their table. Telling himself the hunger clawing at his gut was for food, he ordered a rib eye.

“I want something I can sink my teeth into,” he declared with a smile.

Rick’s words caused a fluttering in Savannah’s in-sides. She’d like to dismiss the response as a symptom of hunger, but unfortunately she was too self-aware for the flimsy excuse. Really, she should have headed straight home and avoided any chance of an intimate dinner with Rick. But the thought of having to cook after the long day—days—she’d put in held as little or less appeal than a plastic drive-through meal. And she’d thought she’d be safe with Rett along, too.

The waiter delivered their drink order. Rick placed both arms on the table and leaned forward. “I’ve pretty much narrowed the choice of location for the first store to London or Paris. I know you put together a list of properties earlier this week. What are your impressions?”

Okay, she knew the key to maintaining an emotional distance from him hinged on concentrating on work, and she appreciated being asked for her opinion. But she couldn’t take any more today. Her brain couldn’t hold another fact.

She inhaled a bracing breath, and then met his gaze. “Can we talk about something besides business?”

For a moment shock stole his voice. “What?” he managed to croak.

“My brain is fried. No more shop talk.” She outlined her rules in clear, concise terms.

Rick stared at her, clearly speechless. Yet after a moment he relaxed back into his seat and opened his hands, palms out to her. “Sure. We’ll talk about whatever you want.”

“Try to hold back your enthusiasm,” she said with a wry smile as she reached for a roll. Tearing it in half, she put the remaining half back in the bread basket.

Totally at ease in his habitual black suit and white shirt, Rick exuded elegance and class, putting most of the other men in the room to shame. The broad stretch of his shoulders and confident tilt of his dark head added to his sense of presence.

He looked good, really good. He always did, but tonight she found it hard to look away. She should be leery, especially when his gaze revealed he liked looking at her, too, but she didn’t have the energy. Instead she enjoyed the delicious tingle of excitement zipping along her nerves.

A sensation common sense promptly squashed.

She didn’t want the situation to change. She valued this job too much to risk it on the unsteady influence of romance.

“Okay.” Rick picked up the half roll, took a bite. “Where’d you learn to speak French?”

“High school. I took it instead of Spanish. And then I took an advanced class in night school. After the class ended a bunch of us would get together for dinner at a French restaurant once a month and only speak French. It helped to cement the language. Especially if others in the restaurant joined in.” She popped the last bite of roll in her mouth then licked a smudge of butter from her finger. “I sign up for classes and seminars all the time.”

“Seminars?” he asked, his interest caught. “What topics interest you?”

Lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, she said, “All kinds of things, child development, business courses, design, some self-help classes where you learn how to end clutter in your life or build up your psyche with daily affirmations. That kind of thing.”

“Ah.” He nodded in understanding. “Sounds … boring.”

His honesty surprised a laugh from her. “Some of it, yes. Some are ridiculous. Some are definitely more helpful than others. I just enjoy getting out, learning something new.”

“Like jewelry design and faceting?” he said.

“Exactly.”

The waiter arrived with their salads and to top up their water.

“Share something ridiculous,” Rick demanded as soon as the waiter left.

Ridiculous? That shouldn’t be hard. The man had a master’s degree in Business Administration; he’d probably find most of what she went for ridiculous. Actually, she knew just the thing to tickle his fancy.

“In Strengthening Your Relationships, to get into your partner’s point of view, you’re supposed to strip completely naked, lie down on the bed and imagine yourself as a man.”

“I am a man.” No hesitation. No apology.

Oh, yeah. As if she needed to be reminded of his male factor.

“You would be imagining yourself as a woman.”

His dark eyebrows spiked up. “That is ridiculous. Who thinks these things up?”

“Doctors, therapists.” She speared a bite of lettuce, dipped it in her dressing. “The point is to see, to feel, to react from the aspect of your mate.”

“Sensitivity training.” The corner of his sensual mouth curled down, indicating what he thought of the idea. “You almost make it sound interesting.”

“Thanks. I think,” she said, defiant, though in truth his comment pleased her. She liked the thought of engaging his interest. But she wasn’t sure she didn’t agree with his obvious disdain of the topic. In fact, her imagination was working overtime, putting naked, bed and man together, and not just any man, but Rick.

Heat rose in her cheeks, and she reached for her ice water to cool off.

Rick’s gaze narrowed then became intense as he slowly chewed and swallowed. “Why relationship seminars? You haven’t mentioned a man in your life.”

She wished she had a name to give him, that in truth she had a man in her life. If she were involved, Rick would be easier to resist. But there hadn’t been a man in her life in close to seven months. And then it had been more of a friendship than anything else.

She demanded a lot when it came to love. She wanted what her younger brother had found with his wife, Kathy, what her mother and father had had before her mother died and her father buried himself in work. A loving partner to spend her life with.

“I’m ready for a new relationship,” she admitted slowly.

“With a man who pretends he’s a woman?”

“No.” Amused, she shook her finger at him. “You’re trying to mess with me, but it’s not going to work. The sensitivity training was just a class. And I admit I got more out of the seminar on clutter control.” She swirled her glass on the table. “Have you tried to patch things up with Diana?”

He’d broken up with the woman just after Savannah had started at Sullivans’ Jewels. Diana had called several times over the past couple of weeks. Rick had taken the calls but they’d been very brief.

The waiter appeared, holding steaming plates of fragrant food. He stepped aside so the busboy could take the salad dishes, Rick’s empty, hers half-eaten.

“Careful, the plates are hot,” the waiter said as he set the dishes down, asked if they had everything they needed and then discreetly disappeared.

Rick frowned as he picked up his knife and fork. “It’s over. We had some good times, but she was looking to change the rules, so it was time to end it.”

“Of course, you have relationship rules.” She shook her head as she took a bite of her fish. “I’m curious, what do you have against marriage? Most of your brothers are happily married. From what I’ve heard your parents and grandparents were happily married, yet you seem to be dead-set against it. Why?”

“I’m not against marriage,” he denied. “I wish my brothers and their beautiful wives all the best. It’s just not for me.”

“Why not?” she pressed, trying to understand his position. “I’m focused on my career right now, but in the future I want a family, a partner and a couple of kids. Don’t you see that for yourself someday?”

“I have a huge family, lots of nieces and nephews. I don’t need kids of my own. My work gives me more satisfaction than any relationship I’ve ever been in.”

Although Rick was not normally a man to be pitied, Savannah felt sorry for the lonely future he outlined.

“I love my job. Thirteen-hour days notwithstanding.” She sent him a telling glance through thick lashes, and then smiled. “But I can’t see it being enough for me. I need family in my life.”

He nodded, his features expressionless as he focused on cutting his steak. “So you’d choose family over work?”

“Probably.” Time to turn the tables. “What about you?”

“I love my job, too.” Laughter brightening his blue eyes, he toasted her. “Thirteen-hour days notwithstanding.”

Appreciating his comeback, she raised her glass and clicked rims with him. Still, his evasion challenged her. He didn’t often open up like this—okay he never opened up like this—and she perversely welcomed the chance to get to know more about him.

Perversely because she knew better than to open herself to him.

“I meant, don’t you want love in your life?” she asked curiously.

“No.” He didn’t even hesitate. “I’m not getting married,” he reminded her. “Love isn’t worth the pain.”

He’d been hurt. The sharpness of his tone revealed a depth of emotion he kept carefully buried. He’d lost his parents when he was so young. She knew how tough that was, knew how every subsequent loss to the heart compounded the pain, leaving you feeling raw and exposed. Those were not emotions that would sit easily with Rick.

It saddened her to see such a strong man give up.

“I’m sorry for your pain, but love hurts because it’s important.” She gently covered his hand with her own. “It doesn’t mean you have to give up on having a family of your own.”

His openness closed down in a blink as he pulled his hand free of her touch and disappeared behind a facade of indifference.

“It’s not a loss if it’s not what you want.”

Or if you told yourself you didn’t want it so the hurting stopped. Kind of what she’d done with her dream of going to college.

“You’re right.” Common sense returned on a wave of self-preservation. Why let his attitude bother her when she had self-deceptions of her own? Suddenly uncomfortable with the topic, she sought a change. “Who started this conversation anyway?”

“You did,” he reminded her as he pushed his plate aside. “You said you wanted to settle down someday and have a family.”

“Right. Well that’s a long way in the future.” Nodding to the waiter’s offer of coffee, she dismissed the serious conversation with a careless wave of her hand. “I’m not looking for anything permanent right now.” She met his gaze over her mug. “So maybe I need to know more about those rules you were talking about.”

The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad: The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad

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