The Millionaire Meets His Match

Two

“I’m telling you, the woman’s gone off the deep end with this marriage thing.” Brandon Duke paced in front of the Dunsmuir Bay Yacht Club’s wide bay window, ignoring the picture-perfect view of sailboats and blue skies lying beyond the glass. “She’s obsessed.”

“Why is that a surprise?” Adam grinned, then took a quick sip of strong coffee. “And why are you so freaked out? It’s not like this is the first time Mom’s tried to talk us into getting married. She wants grandkids and we’re not cooperating.”

“That’s right,” his brother, Cameron, said, sitting back in the comfortable captain’s chair. Despite the thousand-dollar business suit and silk designer necktie, Cameron looked completely relaxed. But Adam knew he never relaxed. A former Marine, Cameron was more driven, possibly more ruthless, than anyone Adam had ever known. Except himself.

“Remember when she forced us all to watch videos of her wedding day?” Cameron asked, shaking his head. “She thought it would soften us up or something.”

“That was gruesome,” Brandon agreed. “But the wedding cake looked good.” He stretched his wide shoulders, glanced around the busy dining room, then sat down at the table and studied the yacht club breakfast menu. “Are we eating or what?”

“Are we breathing?” Adam said with a laugh.

“You’re always eating,” Cameron said to Brandon as he picked up the menu.

Brandon ignored his older brothers and signaled the waitress over. “I’ll have pancakes, eggs and bacon. And toast. Better make it a double order of toast.”

“I’ll have the Denver omelet,” Cameron said, and set the menu down. “And throw in a short stack, will you, Janie?”

“You bet, Mr. Duke,” Janie, the waitress, said. She turned to Adam. “How about you, Mr. Duke?”

“I’ll stick with coffee,” Adam said. He needed the jolt to snap him out of the knee-jerk reaction he’d had to his new temporary assistant earlier. If he’d been more awake, she never would’ve caught him so off guard.

Janie poured more coffee, then scurried off.

Brandon said solemnly, “Look, guys, about Mom. This time it’s different. She’s serious. You should’ve heard her on the phone with her pal, Beatrice. She’s lined up a whole squadron of friends to work on this thing. They’ve already got women lined up for each of us.”

“Oh, yeah?” Cameron said with a leer. “I’m always on the lookout for new women. Remind me to thank her when I see her this weekend.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “If you really want to date someone Mom picked out, there’s always Susie Walton.”

Cameron shivered visibly at the high school memory. “Why’d you have to go and spoil my appetite like that?”

“That’s my job.” Adam turned to Brandon. “Did you tell her you’re on to her?”

“Hell, no,” Brandon said. “The woman’s a runaway train and I don’t feel like getting flattened.”

“Smart.” Adam stared out at a sailboat passing by under motor power until it made its way into the marina channel. He shook his head. “What makes her think I’d marry any woman she threw at me?”

“Good question,” Brandon said, stymied.

“What makes her think we’d marry anyone, ever?” Cameron said.

“She’s Mom,” Brandon said with a shrug.

“Yeah.” Cameron sighed. “She’s like a heat-seeking missile when she gets a bug up her butt.”

“Interesting mixed metaphor,” Adam said as he lifted his coffee cup. “But apropos nonetheless.”

Cameron shot Adam a look of derision. “Dude, apropos? Nonetheless?”

Brandon slugged Cameron’s arm. “Leave him alone. He’s using his words.”

Cameron snorted. “Right. Sorry.”

Adam disregarded them. “The bottom line is, she’s not setting me up,” Adam said easily.

“That’s my point,” Brandon persisted. “She’s not setting anyone up. It’s going to be a surprise attack this time. She told Beatrice, and I quote, ‘They won’t know what hit them.’”

His two brothers shared a look of amusement, but Brandon wasn’t cowed. He shook his finger at Adam. “Ignore me at your peril, dude.”

Adam glanced at Cameron, who raised his eyebrows at his brother’s adamant tone but said nothing.

Brandon saw the exchange and held up his hands. “I’m just saying, watch out. You’re first on her list, Adam. And if you fall…”

“I won’t,” Adam said.

“Good luck,” Brandon grumbled. “The woman’s diabolical.”

Cameron took a sip of coffee, then wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “It’ll be so poignant watching Adam tie the knot.”

Brandon grinned and joined in with a few fake sniffles. “Our little guy’s all grown up.”

“Very funny,” Adam said tightly. “I’m not tying any thing.” He looked from Cameron to Brandon. “And neither are you two. We made a pact.”

The men grew silent as Adam’s words took them back to the day when three eight-year-old boys were forced to make peace with each other. They’d been fighting all morning until their foster mother, Sally Duke, had had enough. She put sandwiches, chips and boxes of juice up in the custom tree house she’d had built for them and warned them not to come down until they could learn to live as brothers.

They were up in that tree house for hours before the dark and dirty secrets began to spill out. Cameron confessed about life on the edge with his junkie mom. Brandon talked without emotion about his father, who beat him regularly until the man was killed in a bar fight. His mother had disappeared long before that, so Brandon was put into the foster care system.

Adam had never known his parents. He’d been abandoned outside a hospital at age two, then raised in an orphanage and a series of foster homes, one worse than the next. He’d been thrown out of four homes and was on a collision course with juvenile hall when Sally Duke found him and took him home.

All three boys were considered bad risks, but that hadn’t deterred Sally, a young, wealthy woman who had recently lost her husband and had plenty of love to share. Sally’s beloved husband had been a foster kid, too, and she wanted to give back to the system that had produced such a fine, self-made man as her husband, William.

Up in that tree house, having divulged their secrets, the three boys swore allegiance to each other. From that moment, they were blood brothers and nothing would split them apart. As part of their pact, they swore they would never get married or have kids because, based on their experience, married people hurt each other and parents hurt their kids. Even if Sally kicked them all out of her big house on the bluff overlooking Dunsmuir Bay, they swore they’d remain brothers forever.

But Sally was determined to make sure the boys knew that her home was their home, that they were a real family now. She was strict when she needed to be, but always warm and loving, and all three boys had thrived in her care. Eventually, she was able to adopt them and give them her last name. The Duke brothers grew up as a force to be reckoned with.

“Here you go,” Janie announced. She placed their breakfast plates down and Adam watched his brothers begin to eat with gusto.

Adam got a coffee refill and sat back in his chair to reflect on Sally Duke, his mother, the woman who’d given three boys a chance at a good life instead of them being dragged down by a system too overburdened to care. Sally had changed the direction of their lives and made it possible for them to grow up strong and self-assured.

Adam owed her his life. But that didn’t mean he would roll over and play dead just because Sally wanted to hear the pitter-patter of little rug rats around the house.

“You want some of this bacon?” Brandon asked.

“No, thanks,” Adam said. He checked his watch. “I’d better run. I’ve got a meeting with Jerry Mansfield in half an hour.”

“Wait, what are we going to do about Mom?” Brandon said.

“You worry too much,” Cameron said between bites. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

Brandon shook his head. “We are so screwed.”

“Deb, I have to go,” Trish whispered. Her best friend had called to find out how the job was going but Trish couldn’t concentrate, knowing Adam would be back from his meeting any minute now.

“Just one more thing,” Deb said. “Ronnie’s taking me out for my birthday tomorrow night.”

“Do you need me to babysit?”

“No, but thanks. My mom’s coming over.”

“Oh, my God,” Trish said as realization dawned. “Is this the first time you’ve been out since the baby was born?”

“Yes, and I don’t know what to wear,” Deb whined. “My world is elastic waistbands and maternity bras. I want to look sexy again. Help!”

Trish mentally pictured Deb’s closet. She knew it as well as she knew her own. “Haven’t you lost enough weight to wear your red dress?”

“Probably, except my breasts are slightly too big.”

“Gee, Ronnie will hate that,” Trish said drily. “Wear it.”

“I really want to knock his socks off.”

“Trust me,” Trish said, chuckling. “He’ll never know what hit him.”

The floor creaked.

Trish jolted and whipped around. “Mr. Duke.”

He stood several feet away by his office door. “I need the Mansfield file.”

She hung up the phone. Deb would understand. Then she stood, wishing the floor could swallow her up. She couldn’t believe he’d caught her on the phone. “It’s on your desk, Mr. Duke.”

He looked as if he were about to say something, but then he just nodded. “Good. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Trish stood rigidly, hating that she was ready to jump at his smallest command.

But he said nothing. Instead, he stared at her, then strode slowly around her area, glancing with suspicion at her desk, the files, the window. His presence was intimidating and chilling, so why did she feel as if she were burning up?

Finally, he met her gaze again. “What have you done?”

Taken aback, she said, “I-I didn’t do anything.”

He shook his head. “No, it looks different. You moved stuff around.”

Trish relaxed her shoulders slightly and exhaled. “I didn’t think you’d mind. I rearranged a few things on the desk and I moved that plant. It was blocking the view.”

He raised an imperious eyebrow. “Cheryl never had time to notice the view.”

“That’s a shame,” she said, glancing at the window. “It’s gorgeous.”

He stared at her intently. “Yes, it is.”

Trish felt her cheeks heat up. “You don’t have to worry that I’ll spend all my time staring out at the ocean, Mr. Duke. I’m here to work.”

“Good to know.” He seemed reluctant to leave. Did he not trust her to do her work despite the tempting view of the world outside her window?

He cleared his throat, then walked toward his office. At the double doors, he turned. “Buzz me when Jerry Mansfield arrives, will you?”

“Of course, Mr. Duke,” she murmured.

“And call me Adam.”

“Of course.”

She almost collapsed as Adam closed the door to his office. What was wrong with her? It wasn’t as if she’d never seen a good-looking man before. But for some reason, this one seemed capable of mesmerizing her. As he’d stared at her, she’d felt the electric attraction. She’d been unable to breathe, aware of his every movement. She could almost feel his touch.

How was that fair? In case she’d forgotten, Adam Duke equaled the Enemy.

She rose from her desk and stood at the window where she gazed out at the wide blue expanse of ocean. What she should do is go and dunk herself in the cold water. These feelings were utterly unacceptable and she would not give in to them.

“It’s just chemistry,” she mumbled. She refused to feel anything but contempt for the man. After all the pain and loss she’d suffered because of him, she couldn’t afford to lose her nerve now that she was so close to achieving her goal.

“So snap out of it, right now,” Trish lectured herself. “What would Grandma Anna say if she could see you now?”

Trish conceded that Grandma Anna would’ve taken one look at Adam Duke and said, “What a hunk.” Her grandmother had always had an eye for a handsome devil and her favorite line had always been, “I may be old, but I’m not dead.”

But then Grandma had suffered the heart attack that led to her death. And Trish laid the blame for her grandmother’s death directly at the feet of Adam Duke and his company.

If not for his cutthroat business tactics, her grandmother would still be alive and she and Trish would still live in the spacious apartment above their lovely Victorian antiques and gift shop known as Anna’s Attic.

Victorian Village, the charming row of connected three-story Victorians on Sea Cove Lane, had provided homes and livelihoods for six families over several generations. Trish had grown up there, and eight months ago, right after she obtained her MBA, she’d banded together with her neighbors to look into buying the building from the long-time landlord and applying for historic landmark designation. Then everything changed. The landlord died, and before the historic landmark paperwork could go through, a development company swept in with a better bid. The landlord’s children had no sentimental attachment to Victorian Village so they sold it to the highest bidder. The development company bought the block-long building, threw out the occupants and demolished their homes and livelihoods in order to build a concrete parking structure.

That company was Duke Development Inter national.

It seemed that Adam Duke needed more parking for his expanding company, so with one sweep of his powerful hand, he had single-handedly destroyed six families’ dreams. Grandma Anna’s heart had literally broken after she was forced to move from the only home and business she’d known and loved since she first married her husband all those years ago.

Trish shook away the unhappy memories and hurried back to her desk. It wouldn’t do to be caught staring out the window, the very thing she’d sworn not to do.

The memories helped strengthen her resolve and she went to work. On her short breaks, she pored through more files, looking for something, anything, that would connect Adam Duke to the unsavory business dealings she knew he was involved in. So far, all she’d found were neatly organized files with legitimate documentation and clearly itemized fees and costs. No double billing, no questionable investments, no shady transactions. But she knew it was only a matter of time until she found something. The destruction of her home and livelihood couldn’t have been the only underhanded deal he’d negotiated in all his years in business. She knew what Adam had done probably wasn’t illegal per se, but it was sneaky and unfair and mean-spirited. And she would find something eventually, some kind of evidence that would expose him as the sleazy businessman she knew he was. Only then would she fulfill the promise she’d made at her grandmother’s deathbed, finally put her memories to rest and go on with her life.

By the end of the day, Trish was no closer to finding anything she might use against Adam Duke than she had been that morning. She turned off her computer and grabbed her purse, then knocked on Adam’s office door. When he called out, she poked her head inside. “If there’s nothing else you need, I’ll be leaving for the day.”

“Dammit,” he muttered.

With some alarm, she checked her watch. It was almost six o’clock. “My usual hours are nine to five-thirty but I’ll be glad to stay later if you need me.”

“What?” Adam looked up and frowned as if just noticing her. “Oh. Sorry. You’re leaving? That’s fine. Have a good evening.”

“What’s wrong?”

He paged through the file, his mouth set in a grim line. “Something’s missing from this file.”

Trish’s eyes widened. “I-I put everything on your desk.”

“I’m sure you did.” He thumbed through both stacks of papers clipped into the file. “But there’s a lease amendment missing. It’s got to be somewhere in the files, or maybe it’s around Cheryl’s-er-your desk.”

“I’ll check.” In a panic, she rushed back to her area and rifled through the desk drawers. Had she subconsciously sabotaged a file? Of course she hadn’t. She stopped and took a deep breath. Tried to relax. Then she carefully checked the file drawer, nearest to the place she’d first found the Mansfield documents.

“I think I found it,” she said, walking back into Adam’s office.

He jumped up from his desk and met her halfway. “Where was it?” he demanded.

“It was tucked inside the Manning file.”

He rolled his eyes. “Manning. Great. I suppose that’s close to Mansfield.”

“Next file over.”

“Good to know.” He walked back to his desk where papers were scattered everywhere. “Thanks for finding this. It would’ve been disastrous if the client found out we’d lost it.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“I just wonder how many more mistakes like this one are waiting to be found.”

“I can start checking through the files tomorrow if you’d like.”

“Good idea.” He rubbed his knuckles across his jaw. “I guess Cheryl was under more pressure than she let on. This never would’ve happened if she was on top of her game.”

“Three months’ pregnant and trying to plan a wedding?” Trish said. “I’d call that pressure.”

Adam chuckled ruefully. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I didn’t help much. Still, this could’ve been a costly mistake. I’d appreciate it if you’d start going through the files more closely tomorrow.”

“Of course.” Trish almost laughed out loud at the request. She now had a legitimate reason to pore through the files and he’d handed it to her on a silver platter. She almost felt guilty, but refused to let herself go there. “Do you need anything else tonight?”

“No, thanks,” Adam said as he sat back down at his desk. “You go and enjoy your evening.”

She watched as he rolled his sleeves up his muscular arms. He’d long ago removed his jacket and his tie was off now. His usually well-groomed thick, dark hair was unruly and looked as if he’d combed it with his fingers more than once that afternoon.

A shiver ran up her back that had nothing to do with any temperature shift and everything to do with the ruggedly handsome man sitting before her.

She realized that she was staring. Flustered, she said, “You’re working late tonight?”

“It’s not that late.”

She checked her watch. “It’s after six.”

He shrugged. “That’s not late. I’ll be here another few hours getting these documents finished for another meeting tomorrow.”

“I can stay if you need help.”

He glanced at the work spread out on his desk, then looked at her. “You don’t have to.”

“At least let me order you dinner before I leave.”

“Not necessary.”

But it was necessary. She would feel guilty all night long if she left him working alone without food. “It’s not a problem.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” he said, then pulled his wallet out and handed her a $50 bill. “That would be great. Thanks. I think Cheryl’s got Angelo’s Pizza on speed dial.”

“Pizza? Are you sure?”

“I always order pizza when I work late.”

Trish’s eyes narrowed. “How often do you work late?”

“Almost every night.”

“You eat pizza every night?”

He calculated, then shrugged. “Just about.”

“That’s not very healthy.”

He grinned. “It’s got all the food groups.”

She simply shook her head and walked out to her desk where she found the file folder of local restaurant menus she’d seen earlier. She placed an order with a nearby restaurant for grilled chicken and rice with green beans and a salad.

She busied herself by starting on the filing project, going through each of the folders more closely, as he’d requested. It also gave her the chance to continue her search for something incriminating, but so far, there was nothing.

After forty minutes, the food delivery arrived. She found a tray in the kitchen down the hall, laid the food out and took it into his office.

He did a double-take when she placed the tray on his desk. “What’s this?”

“It’s real food,” she said.

He grinned. “You’re pretty bossy, aren’t you?”

“I just believe in good nutrition,” she said defensively, and waited while he tasted everything.

He watched her with amusement as he took the first bite of chicken. “It’s good.”

She nodded. “And good for you.”

He took another bite. “No, it’s really good.”

“I’m glad.” She sat on the edge of the chair in front of his desk. “It’ll keep you going better than pizza will.”

“You may be right.” After a few more bites, he said, “Marjorie mentioned you have an MBA.”

“You were listening?”

His lips twisted in a self-deprecating grin. “Okay, fine, I deserved that.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay,” he said with a laugh. “But in my own defense, I’ve had to deal with some of our floaters before. You haven’t.”

“Did you mean special assignment assistants?” Trish said, biting back a smile.

He laughed again. “Okay, I was an ass.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to say it,” he said wryly.

“But you had a right to be angry,” Trish allowed. “I can’t imagine someone leaving you high and dry in the middle of such an important deal.”

He bit into a green bean. “I’m still angry. But I suppose I’m somewhat to blame. Cheryl did mention getting married a few times, but I’ve been so wrapped up in the Fantasy Mountain deal, I guess I let it go in one ear and out the other.”

“This is the ski resort I’ve heard so much about?” She’d seen the photographs of the resort lining the walls of the lobby downstairs.

“Yeah,” Adam said, taking another bite of chicken. “We’re closing the deal at the end of the month and we’ve planned a major celebration. The investors and their families will be staying there for a long weekend. There’ll be a big formal party and lots of hoopla. If we can get our act together.”

“I’m sure it’ll come together nicely,” Trish said. “The photos of the resort look beautiful.”

He sat forward in his chair. “It’s a great place, Trish. Top-of-the-line luxury, with a spa and a world-class restaurant, great trails and ski runs. It’s fabulous. The rooms are rustic, but warm and beautiful and elegant at the same time. I can’t wait to show it off.”

Trish couldn’t help but get caught up in his enthusiasm. “It sounds wonderful.”

Adam looked thoughtful. “Cheryl was in charge of the big opening-night gala we’re throwing for the investors.”

“A gala?”

“Red carpet, formal ball, the whole bit.”

“Sounds exciting.”

He stabbed at a small piece of chicken. “It will be if we can still pull it off. That’s something else I’ll need to bring you up to speed on tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’d love to work on something like that. I’ve always dreamed-” She stopped. Whoa. No dreaming, please. What was she thinking? She’d been drawn in by his charm again. She carefully checked her watch, then stood. “Naturally, I’ll be glad to do whatever you need me to do. I’d better be going now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Adam seemed surprised by her abrupt change in attitude, but said smoothly, “Of course, it’s late. Thanks again for everything. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes, good night.” She hurried out of his office, grabbed her purse off her desktop and raced to the elevator. As she waited, she berated herself. What was wrong with her, sitting around chatting with him as though they were the best of friends? Lest she forget, Adam Duke was not her friend and never would be.

And furthermore, as far as the opening-night gala was concerned, if she managed to complete the real job she’d come here to do, she’d be long gone before the Fantasy Mountain formal ball ever took place.