Читать книгу Marrying Her Billionaire Boss - Myrna Mackenzie - Страница 5

BREATHE DEEPLY.

The next morning, standing in the doorway of her creepy little rental room on the far edge of town, Beth coached herself to breathe, trying not to think of how much had changed in one day. This temporary home had been all she could afford, and it wasn’t exactly pleasant. It was a far cry from the clean, bustling beauty of most of the lakeside town, but that was all right. For the first time in her twenty-five years she was living on her own, a fact that brought a sense of triumph to her soul. Moreover, she had survived her interview with Carson Banick and she’d landed a decent job. Now all she had to do was keep it, get settled and stop thinking about her new employer’s dangerous silver eyes.

Beth took another deep, ragged breath. “Well, that solved one problem,” she finally said to herself. She was definitely breathing deeply now.

Too bad it was the thought of her boss’s eyes that was causing her to hyperventilate, because that just wouldn’t do. This would not be like her last job. No one was matchmaking. Carson Banick wasn’t interested in her. It was good that she could think logically about the situation, because she had been stupid about men before.

Beth tried not to think about how idiotic she had been about Harrison, the man she’d fallen so hard for two years ago, thinking he loved her when he’d only wanted a physical relationship. She came from a poor family so they weren’t from the same class at all, he had explained, as if she should have known that his words of love had been lies. But what she had realized after she finally stopped hurting was that her foolish mistake had given her brothers even more reason to protect her.

As surrogate parents, they had always worried she would be an easy and naive sexual target. In the past Beth had never told them about the passes men had made. She’d never believed any of the lies until Harrison had lied more convincingly than the rest. Now, her brothers knew for sure that she had been used. At last they had been proven right, and, despite the fact that she was an adult, they had set out to protect her in every way they could.

Which was well meaning, but…

Sighing, Beth tried not to think of her brothers as captors. They had raised her after their parents’ deaths when she was ten. Her brothers loved her, and she adored them, but as the only girl and the youngest, a somewhat rebellious youngest at that, she had frequently wanted to escape their smothering ways. Now, she had taken the first steps in that direction.

Her brief conversation last night with Roger, her eldest brother—when she’d finally decided to let him know that she was safe and settled—had gone as she’d expected. Poorly. Roger had threatened to come to Lake Geneva, but she’d held her ground.

“I’ve got a good job and a good place to live,” she said, stretching the truth. “If you come up here in your current state, you might jeopardize my situation.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you, Bethie,” he argued.

“You wouldn’t mean to,” she agreed, “but I told my boss I was capable of acting independently. This job is temporary, but it can be a stepping stone to something better. I’m working directly under Carson Banick of the Banick Enterprises Banicks.”

Roger had sworn. “I’ve read about him in the business pages. He lives a reckless existence.”

“I’m not helping him do that. I’m helping him build a hotel. That’s all.”

“Beth…”

“Roger. I love you and Jim and Albert and Steve, but you’re not letting me breathe. Mom and Dad wouldn’t want you to stand in the way of my success.”

“That’s not fair.”

It wasn’t. She knew they just wanted her to be happy. But they wanted her to be happy by treating her the way they had when she was ten. “When this job is done, then I’ll let you know if I’m ready to come home,” she promised.

“I’ll come now.”

“If you do, I’ll just have to go somewhere else. You have to let me make it on my own, and I can’t do that if you and everyone else are standing around frowning and waiting to see if I fall so you can pick me up. I have to make my own mistakes.”

He grumbled at that and told her he would be reading up on Carson Banick. He wasn’t leaving his baby sister alone with a man who might try to take advantage of her.

“He doesn’t even see me as a woman,” she promised.

Finally Roger agreed to keep his distance and let her spread her wings unsupervised.

Not that Beth was fooled by his agreement. Eventually her brothers would show up in Lake Geneva to check up on her. Knowing them, they wouldn’t wait long.

“I’d better turn myself into a success quickly,” she told herself. When her brothers finally arrived, she needed to be rooted, an independent woman rather than the perpetual little sister. Never again would she sacrifice her pride or dignity for what appeared to be love. She wouldn’t live under a man’s thumb. Nor would she freely give her heart away, at least not to the wrong kind of man.

Thank goodness Carson Banick was the wrong kind of man.

Carson looked at the calendar and grimaced. Three months behind schedule.

“We need you to get this right,” his father had said last night. “The family has fallen down on its commitments to the business, to our communities and to our loyal employees, Carson. One failure affects everyone who associates with Banick. It has always been that way, going back to the European inns where the Banick legend began. People count on us. They trust us. You know that. We can’t break that trust.”

Now Carson stifled a groan. His parents were stodgy and stuffy. He knew better than anyone how unbending and even unfeeling they could be, but they had principles and they lived by them. They were only being what they’d always been and doing what they’d always done. He was the one who had shrugged off his responsibilities in the past. He was the one responsible for Patrick’s current condition, and it was up to him to do something about the existing crisis, not only for the business and the family but for his own peace of mind.

Over the past few months, since Patrick’s fall, Carson had watched his loving, joyful brother lose the use of his legs and eventually lose the hope of returning to a normal life. After completing rehab, Patrick had holed himself up in a luxury apartment with only a nurse for company and he didn’t welcome Carson’s weekly visits. Patrick had rebuffed all Carson’s assistance, but he had to help his brother in some way.

He looked up at the clock. It was almost nine. Time to begin, he thought as Beth Krayton came through the door. It was obvious she had been rushing. Her hair was windblown; her ugly navy balloon of a skirt had flipped up slightly in the back. She looked deliciously flushed.

Carson grimaced. Bad choice of words. Delicious shouldn’t figure into things.

Carefully Beth smoothed one hand over her skirt as if that would repair the wind damage. She stood up straighter and smiled. “Good morning, Mr. Banick. I’m ready.”

Carson blinked at that and tried not to think any prurient thoughts. Ridiculous. She didn’t even look like a woman a man would have prurient thoughts about. His brother would never have had such improper thoughts about an employee.

He smiled tightly. “Well, we have a lot to do. We’re meeting with the city planning committee in two hours.”

“We?” Her voice seemed suddenly a bit weak.

He ignored that. He had hired her. Now they had to make this work.

Frowning, Carson continued, “Yes, I’ll need you to take notes and help me focus on any problem areas I might miss. You’ll need…” He gazed at her skirt. “You’ll need a change of clothing.”

Immediately she blushed. “This is what I have right now, other than what I was wearing yesterday. I haven’t had a chance to complete my work wardrobe yet.”

At the auto parts store she had probably worn jeans. He tried not to think about the fact that her slender body and fresh, pretty face would perfectly complement any pair of jeans known to man.

“Your skirt will be fine for my office, but for this meeting you’ll need a suit. We’ll take care of that right away.” When she held out one hand in protest he waved away her objections.

“Ms. Krayton. This job…well, it’s not business as usual. My brother began this project but he’s temporarily indisposed. We’re well behind schedule and the planning commission was kind enough to grant me an audience on short notice. That doesn’t mean they’ll roll over and accede to our every wish. They have a job to do and responsibilities to this town. I have a job to do and a responsibility to my brother and to my business. In order to win the commission members over on as many points as possible, we’ll have to do everything right. Image is important. It’s part of your job. I’m buying clothing for you. Right now.”

She looked him full in the face and the impact of that nakedly appealing expression was like a blow. Her emotions were written as clearly in her eyes as if a pen had put them there. Pride warred with need.

“All right. I understand,” she said. “I’m willing, but—”

He raised a brow. “But?”

She looked away. “I have zero fashion sense.”

“I do. Let’s go.” Rising to his feet, he moved around his desk and held out his hand.

She stared at him as if he’d just suggested something illicit. “You’re going to help me pick out clothes?”

Carson smiled. “If you really have zero fashion sense, I’m going to choose the clothing.”

“You’ll tell me what to wear.” Was that a stubborn note in her voice?

“Is that a problem? As I said, appearance is part of the job.”

Beth took a visible breath before nodding. “I’m sorry for hesitating. Being raised by four brothers, I’ve had to argue for the right to do things my way, but you’re right. Appearance is part of the job, and you’re the expert.”

She tilted her chin up and prepared to move toward the door. It was clear that she was a woman with a lot of pride, and he had just asked her to ignore that.

“Beth?” he said gently.

She turned slightly, her hair catching the glint of sunlight, turning it to copper. “Thank you,” he said.

Rather than respond to his gratitude, she looked at her watch, a slight hint of pink in her cheeks. “The meeting is in only two hours? Well, we’d certainly better get going if we’re to get back and have time for you to fill me in on everything I need to know.”

Carson chuckled. “Well, it seems I hired the right person to keep me in check. I tend to be hopelessly late and I have a bad habit of coming and going as I please.”

She rolled her eyes.

“What?” he asked as he walked out the door and led her to his car.

“Coming and going as you please might be considered hopelessly arrogant by some.”

“Yes. But I’m trusting you to get me there on time.”

She laughed, a low, earthy sound that reminded Carson of wine, candlelit bedrooms and sin. He tried not to panic at the images that would only interfere with what he was trying to do for Patrick.

“Here,” he said a few minutes later, opening the door to a boutique that specialized in classic clothing.

Beth walked in the door ahead of Carson. He hadn’t thought of it before, but the place smelled of class, of opulence. She stood there looking uncomfortable and small and pretty and completely out of place.

“Please…fix me up,” she said, her voice husky and thick. “And quickly.”

Her words were practical, but they sounded erotic to Carson’s ears. He ignored his reaction.

Instead he nodded to a salesperson and forced himself to behave like the businessman he was. “I want something chic, smart and businesslike. Not gray or black,” he said, glancing at Beth’s pale skin. “Jade, I think. Or gold. We don’t have much time.” He looked at Beth. “How much?”

She didn’t hesitate. “If we need to allow ourselves time to prepare for the meeting, I think…twenty minutes. Thirty, tops.”

Carson grimaced. He nodded to the salesperson. “Can you do it? We’ll want several changes of clothing, head to toe, inside and out.”

Beth yelped. “My underwear?”

He did his best not to imagine the garments she was referring to. He especially tried not to imagine them sliding against her pale flesh. “If you’re going to act the part of an accomplished and skilled assistant, you have to feel as if you’re used to luxury and privilege, right down to the skin.”

She nodded, but he noticed that her cheeks had gone even paler. The saleswoman scurried off, returning with a mountain of clothing. “We’ll make her irresistible,” she promised.

Carson’s last thought before Beth disappeared into the dressing room was, Oh, no, don’t do that.

He didn’t want to desire her. That would interfere with all his plans, and it would ultimately hurt her. Carson had already hurt too many people, and he did not want to see Beth’s brown eyes fill with pain.

After numerous changes, Beth finally emerged from the dressing room and heard Carson say, “Perfect. That’s the one you’ll wear today.”

She was dressed in a jade suit with a jacket that nipped in at her waist and a skirt that brushed her knees. A rich cream camisole peeked out from the lapels and beneath that she wore bits of ivory satin and lace. It was the most luscious, luxurious clothing she had ever owned, which bothered her. There was now a sense of obligation attached to this business relationship.

And there was something more. Longing. She hated that feeling. Over the years, she’d trained herself not to envy what other girls had. Her brothers had done their best. Neighbors had often donated bags of ill-fitting clothing their children had outgrown, and she’d always known that people judged her by what she was wearing. Pretending she didn’t care had been a badge of honor. Now…Beth glanced down at the skirt that hung just the way a skirt was meant to hang. She felt as if she were playing dress-up. She would eventually have to put the things back in the box and don her old clothes. But for now…she stroked her hand over the silky cloth.

The movement must have caught Carson’s eyes. He glanced at her, and she quickly slipped her hand behind her back, unwilling to let him see her as pathetic or needy or even more untutored than she had admitted to. His gaze never left hers as he told the saleswoman to send the rest of the things he had chosen to the office.

“Ready?” he asked Beth as they left the store.

“Yes.” She followed him out into the sunlight. “Thank you,” she added. “I doubt anyone would have known if you had spent less money.”

He shrugged and smiled. “I would have. This suits you. Think of it as your uniform.”

She liked that. It lessened her sense of obligation. “Thank you for the uniform, then,” she conceded. “It’s much nicer than the red apron I wore over my jeans at the auto parts store. Not as many pockets, but a lot more silk,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “And you were very good at operating within a limited time frame.”

Carson chuckled. “Well, those evil glances you were giving your watch helped.”

She lifted one shoulder in acquiescence and smiled. “What will help with the planning commission?”

“Not sure. I’ve never done this before.”

Beth yelped. “You haven’t? Why not? My landlady said that your family—”

Carson looked grim. She clapped a hand over her mouth.

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize for asking questions. The Banicks are well-known around here, and people talk. Gossip is not a sin. Yes, my family has been in the luxury hotel business for years. My father, my mother and my brother, that is. I was never interested, but I’m needed now. My job—our job,” he amended, “is to hold the fort, to do our best to bring this hotel on line and to maintain the reputation and the solvency of Banick Enterprises.”

“Is that all?” Beth tried to joke, but there really wasn’t anything amusing about the situation. She clenched her fists, hiding them behind her back.

There was so much riding on her performance, and for a few seconds she considered the fact that she might not have the skills to do this job, after all. In truth, Beth felt as if she were going to hyperventilate. A paper bag would have been nice, but she didn’t have that luxury. “All right, I understand. So, what do you think you want me to do?”

He turned those exquisite silver eyes on her. “Take copious notes. Not just about what’s being said, but about your impressions of the people on the commission, how they react. What they like, what they don’t like, how they conduct themselves. This meeting today is just a formality to ensure that we can begin working again, but in the weeks that follow we may have to go back to them if we make any changes to the structure.”

“Will we do that?”

Those silver eyes connected with her in a way that was deeply disturbing, primal, male. “Undoubtedly. There’s always competition to be the best. My brother has been out of commission for a while, but the hotel world has kept moving. We’ll need to make improvements, to hunt for the next trend, to discover what it is that will bring guests to our hotel rather than to another one.” His voice was deep, dark, ragged, earnest.

“I thought you didn’t have experience with this,” she said softly.

“I don’t have much, but I’ve sat in on plenty of discussions between my brother and my father. I’ve run my own firms and been a lifelong consumer of luxury products. As fickle as any customer, I’ve moved from one thing to the next.”

For a moment, Beth had the discomfiting feeling that when Carson said “thing” he meant women, his voice was so low and seductive. It was terribly easy to believe that women would parade their wares before him, each trying to outdo the other.

She swallowed hard. “I’ll take detailed notes,” she promised.

It seemed a simple task when she thought of it that way. Taking notes? What could be so difficult? She would be a great assistant and make Carson glad that he had chosen her. Maybe she could even turn this into a career that would grant her the independence and the future that she needed.

A sense of confidence and well-being filled her soul…until she walked into the office where the meeting was being held.

A row of eyes met her entrance. A wall of men were seated at the table. In other years, Beth was sure, there had been women present, either as members of the commission or as architects or attorneys, but not today. Today she was the lone female, and, she was well aware, the only inexperienced person in sight, no matter what Carson had said.

The minute he entered the room, he seemed to fill it. He was taller, more powerful-looking, more confident than any man present—even though every person in the room looked important. This was no small potatoes meeting.

Everything that happened here mattered. That meant that everything she did mattered.

She could help Carson, or she could prove her brothers right and be a helpless female who needed assistance.

Beth swallowed hard and sat down, pen poised. She cast one look at Carson and found him studying her. He smiled slightly, and she knew instantly that he had loved and left many beautiful ladies.

He might need her help today, but she must never make the mistake of thinking he needed anything else from her. She’d erred that way before. No more.

Dredging up a look of confidence from some hidden place inside, Beth managed to give Carson a flippant smile. She began to scribble, and she knew that this man could help her free herself from the prison she had inhabited.

Or he could create a new kind of prison for her. If she let him.