GRATIFICATION (Desire Never Dies) Read online

  GRATIFICATION

  By

  Clara Grace Walker

  GRATIFICATION © 2013 Rebecca von Wormer. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in manner whatsoever without written permission.

  Published by Rebecca von Wormer

  License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this e-book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This novel is a fictional piece of work. Any and all references to real people, events, businesses, groups, organizations, places, etc. are only for literary value and authenticity, and are used in a fictitious manner. All other characters, events, businesses, groups, organizations, places, etc. are created by the author. All utterances, actions, thoughts, believes, etc. done and/or expressed by any and all characters in this book are for literary purposes only and do not necessarily represent any thoughts, actions, beliefs, etc. on the part of the author.

  Dedication:

  Special thanks to Luke, Ben, Kellie, Lily, Kelsey and Chris. My life is better because of you. Thanks also to Penny, Angie and Marie. Your support, encourage and advice is always appreciated.

  Acknowledgments:

  Cover photo courtesy of Kelsey von Wormer @ Von Wormer Photography. Cover model Miranda L. Bower

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Statement

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Other Books by Clara Grace Walker

  Connect with Clara Grace Walker

  Chapter 1

  Preston Tyler leaned into the cushioned back of a wooden chair, squinting in the dimly-lit corner of the Men’s Grill and trying not to inhale too deeply. J. Anderson Clarke, his lunch companion for the afternoon, needed to be trained in the fine art of how not to overdose on aftershave. The man reeked. And the smell was ruining his taste for the filet that had just been set down in front of him. “Quiet for a Wednesday,” he observed. “Have all the doctors given up golf?”

  Andy shrugged, knocking back his second vodka martini. “HMO fees must be dropping and eating into their golf budget. And God knows half of them don’t know the first thing about running a business. Most of them think they’re just supposed to be curing the sick.”

  It was a shame eye rolls were considered impolite. Preston cleared his throat. “Anyway, you said it was urgent when you asked me to meet you.”

  Andy laughed, his pale blue eyes twinkling in a way that made him look like a sinister version of Santa Claus. “Always one to get right to the point, aren’t you, Tyler?” Disregarding the club’s no-smoking rules, he pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket and lit it. “That’s what I like about you, boy. You’re focused. Never lose sight of the bottom line.”

  Boy? Preston grimaced. He was beginning to see where Taralynn’s manners came from. “I cancelled two appointments to meet you for lunch today. Would you like to tell me why?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  The air around them filled with smoke and a young waiter Preston judged to be in his early twenties came rushing over to their table. “I - - -I’m sorry, Sir, but there’s no smoking allowed at the club. You’ll have to put the cigar out.”

  “What did you just say to me?” Andy’s face turned red.

  “I ---I’m sorry, Sir. They’re not my rules. I just….”

  “You just what?” Andy interrupted.

  “The other guests might complain,” the young man explained. “I might get in trouble for letting you smoke in here.”

  “Is that right? Well, I’ll tell you something, you might get in trouble, in fact you might get fired, if you bother me again. You got that, boy?”

  “Y-yes, Sir.”

  The waiter scurried off. He looked like a scared rabbit. Preston took the cigar from Andy’s hand and stubbed it out on a napkin he placed over his bread plate. “I don’t smoke,” he said. “And neither do my lungs.”

  He thought Andy might blow up at him the way he had at the poor young waiter, but then, he didn’t have a job Andy Clarke could threaten to fire him from. And, after staring coolly at him for several long seconds, Andy let the incident pass without response, choosing instead to get back to the business at hand.

  “So, you’ve been seeing my daughter,” he said.

  Preston didn’t like where this was going. “We’ve had a few of dates.” Three to be exact.

  “Taralynn tells me she’s quite taken with you. She sees a real future where you’re concerned.”

  No. He definitely didn’t like where this was going. “She was kind enough to accompany me to a couple of last-minute social functions,” he said, hoping to sound neutral and non-committal. The last date had been a museum fundraiser she’d begged him to take her to, because she didn’t want to go alone.

  “Someone like Taralynn can bring great value to your life,” Andy continued on, clearly not picking up on Preston’s lack of enthusiasm. “She is, perhaps, the most eligible bachelorette in the State of Florida. You’re lucky to be the man she’s chosen.”

  Chosen? Andy made it sound like he’d just been selected from a store shelf. “I’m sure Taralynn will bring value into some lucky man’s life someday.” The taste
of his meal had soured in his stomach. “However, I’m not looking for that kind of commitment in my life right now.” There. He couldn’t have said it more plainly than that.

  “You might want to reconsider that position,” Andy suggested, a smirk appearing on his face.

  Preston nearly choked. “Excuse me.”

  Andy’s face remained serious. “You heard me.”

  “I neither want, nor need, your approval on how I conduct my personal affairs. If you’ve asked me to lunch in order to secure a husband for your daughter, you’ve wasted your time. And mine.”

  “I never waste my time, boy. And if I want to secure something for my daughter, or myself, you’ll find I have a very good track record of obtaining it.”

  “You can’t possibly think you can simply order me to have a relationship with your daughter. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not some quivering little waiter working at the country club you belong to. I’m every bit as wealthy and powerful as you are.”

  Andy grinned at him, letting out a small chuckle. “We shall see, my boy. But the fact of the matter is, Taralynn wants you, and more importantly, I want your company. And if I can’t get it through a friendly merger, then I’ll use means less to your liking.”

  Preston rose, his appetite having fled and been replaced with an anger threatening to take control of him. “Why don’t you stick to computers, Andy, and leave the broadcasting business to me.”

  “Computers and the broadcasting business make a perfect marriage, boy. Even someone as bone-headed as you should be able to see that.”

  Bone-headed? Insulting boor didn’t begin to describe what Preston thought of Mr. J. Anderson Clarke. “My father spent his life building Ty-Ken into a successful, multi-national corporation, and it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let you walk in and snatch it away from me.” He paused. “And I am not marrying your daughter. My company is not for sale, and neither am I.”

  He walked briskly away from the table, but not before catching Andy’s parting shot. “I think you’ll find, my boy, everything in this world is for sale.”

  Chapter 2

  Friday nights at Rio Beach were always hot. Hard-bodied kids in their early to mid-twenties horded into the place to dance and mingle and usually, if the night went as planned, something more. Most of them dressed provocatively, favoring hot pants, butt-cheek-high sundresses and way-too-tight blue jeans. Men caroused the two crowded levels of the bar, egged on by teasing laughter and the occasional flash of bare breasts. All three bars were going full-tilt, as were the beer stands set up out on the deck. Tiki torches burned along the beach outside, and on any night as wound-up as this one, a handful of bold souls would soon be out in the ocean, skinny-dipping.

  Maggie McKenzie viewed the goings-on from her office window overlooking the main floor of the bar below with wry amusement. Rio Beach was exactly the sort of place Aunt Patrice would find terribly scandalous. That fact alone was cause enough to keep the place open for at least another twenty years.

  “I see you’ve inherited your father’s touch for running a successful business.”

  The all-too-familiar voice startled Maggie. She spun around, shocked to see she hadn’t been mistaken. Preston looked just the same as he had the last time she’d seen him. His Armani shirt and slacks, tailored to a perfect fit. His sandy blonde hair, cut and trimmed into a trendy business-casual look, fell just above his ears. Iron-crafted biceps still bulged through his shirt sleeves. His grey eyes stared at her with an intensity that brought back way too many unwanted memories. “Preston?”

  He grinned, almost apologetically, and held out his arms to her. “In the flesh. How the hell have you been?”

  Busy forgetting you existed.

  He reached out unexpectedly to greet her with a hug, and as soon as his arms arched around her, she felt a warmth coil in her belly. A warmth she’d spent three years trying to extinguish.

  “My God, it’s good to see you,” he whispered.

  She shuddered at the way his breath still tingled on her skin. Remembered all the times he’d held her, caressed her and tasted her kisses. But it was nothing more than a physical reaction. She’d learned the hard way their compatibility ended there.

  Maggie pulled away before his embrace could tighten any further. Suddenly her office seemed way too small. “What brings you to Key West? I thought you hated it here.”

  He continued to flash his smile at her, and only reluctantly released her from his embrace. “Any place that has you can’t be all bad.”

  “You’re as charming as ever, I see. So what’s the story? I’m sure after three years you weren’t just passing through.”

  “I’m hurt, Maggie.” He feigned being wounded, holding his hand over his chest. “You think I can’t stop by and say hello to the girl I almost married without having an ulterior motive?”

  “Let’s say I find it doubtful.”

  The smile dissipated from his face. “Have it your way then. Whether you realize it or not, you have a very serious business problem you need to deal with.”

  She shook her head, confused. “I don’t think so. If there was a problem with this bar, I’d know about it.”

  “I don’t mean with your bar, Maggie. I mean with the company we inherited from our fathers, Ty-Ken Communications.”

  She should have known there was only one thing that could bring him here. Hurt stung her, tearing at scabs over wounds that still hadn’t healed. Her good spirits faded completely, replaced by the differences and cynicism that had driven her and Preston apart only months before their wedding. How blinded she’d been by those differences at first. Lost in passion and giddy self-delusion. It wasn’t until the wedding date had gotten closer, and Preston spent more time abroad than he did at home, and left her to plan their nuptials alone, that she’d really seen it. She’d seen it clearly then, and could think of nothing to do but run before her adult life became a replay of her childhood, yearning for the affections of a man who would always put business first.

  Filled with rebellion and frustration, she’d fled to the place Preston was least likely to follow; the party island of Key West.

  She kept her distance from him, backing up against her desk. “What makes you think I give a damn what happens with Ty-Ken Communications? I make more than enough money from this bar to live a comfortable life.”

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t feel that way. Just as I’ve been hoping for the last three years you’d come to terms with your father’s death and start running the business he spent his life building.”

  Was that all he’d been hoping for the last three years? Her heart sank a little more to realize just how right she’d been to call off their engagement. “Why? You seem to have done just fine running the place on your own.”

  “Let’s not argue, Maggie. That’s not what I came here for.”

  “Of course not, Preston. You came here for business. What else?”

  His jaw clenched and he looked past her, as if searching for something. “You’ve been angry with me for the last three years, Maggie. Ever think it might help to tell me why?”

  “It wouldn’t.” She moved around behind her desk, putting some distance between them.

  “Fine.” He exhaled. “Suit yourself. I’m here because J. Anderson Clarke is after our company, and he’s willing to use hostile means to get it if he can’t accomplish a merger through a marriage between his daughter and me.”

  Shock forced her jaw open. She knew he’d turned into something of a playboy since their break up. Seen pictures of him in the social pages with plenty of different women, and heard, via her aunt, that he’d been dating Taralynn. But she hadn’t realized it had been so serious. “You and Taralynn Clarke are getting married?”

  “Of course not.”

  He scoffed and relief instantly flooded through her.

  “In fact, I sent her a text message cancelling our date last night, and I plan on ending things as soon as I leave here. But that is only going to
accelerate her father’s takeover bid for the company.”

  “Gee, and you thought our break up went badly,” she finally managed. Naturally, it would be the company he was worried about losing. “I guess Key West is a little out of the loop when it comes to jet set gossip.”

  He leveled a look of irritation at her. “I’d say Key West is a little out of the loop when it comes to a lot of things.”

  His tone held an unmistakable hint of disappointment and she wondered why. Not that it mattered, she reminded herself. He’d made his choice three years ago, and it had taken the threat of losing his company for him to come and see her again. Three years might as well have been three days. Nothing about him had changed. “You can leave now,” she said. “You’ve done your duty and informed me of the impending disaster. Feel free to be on your way.”

  “Maggie.”

  He reached his hand out and touched her before she could move away. “I believe you’re letting your personal feelings get in the way of your thinking.”

  “You would.” He hadn’t changed a bit. “You always did put business before feelings.”

  He clenched his jaw into a stubborn set. “I should have known coming here to see you would be an exercise in futility. I couldn’t talk to you three years ago, and I can’t talk to you now. For some reason I cannot understand, you refuse to see I have done nothing but try to act in both of our best interests.”

  She glanced out her office window, looking out onto the dance floor, teeming with uninhibited bumping and grinding. No one out there was acting in anyone’s best interests but their own. That seemed to be the way of things, more often than not. People pairing up, each trying to get something they wanted or needed from the other, rarely thinking about what they could give back in return.

  She looked back to the man standing in front of her. She had been very good about tending to his needs. He just hadn’t done such a great job reciprocating. It would be foolish and naïve to think he might do so now.

  “I heard nothing from you except what was in our best interests for the last month of our engagement. If you had tried listening to me, you would have seen you weren’t acting in anyone’s interests but your own.”