GRATIFICATION (Desire Never Dies) Page 4

  “How long before you get this information back to Andy and get him to drop the offer?”

  “Allowing time for discretion, two days tops. And in the meantime, we’ll go ahead and file our papers, and get the legal maneuverings in progress.”

  “Great! Look over those papers I drafted. I think you’ll agree they’re close to ready.”

  Preston kicked back in his chair, finally starting to relax. Now, if he could just settle this thing with Maggie. Unfortunately, he started to relax just a little too soon. He’d no sooner kicked back than his cell phone started ringing. “Hello,” he answered.

  “Preston, sweetie. I have to admit, I really thought you’d have called me by now.”

  “Taralynn?” She had to be kidding. His muscles tensed until they felt ready to burst. He needed to remember to always check his Caller ID before answering his phone. “I can’t imagine why you’d be expecting me to call you. I said everything I had to say to you when I ended our relationship.”

  “Preston!” She audibly gasped. “You told me we were no longer a couple. You never said you were never going to speak to me again.”

  “Then I’m telling you now.”

  “This is such a shame. I really hate to see things get ugly between us.”

  Did they share the same reality? “If you’re really worried about things getting ugly, tell your father to back the hell off my company.”

  “That’s so unfair to try and lay the blame for everything at my father’s feet. He’s just doing business, and I had really hoped we could still be on friendly terms with one another, despite your callous treatment of me.”

  “Callous treatment?” He could hardly believe what he was hearing. “What callous treatment? I even made a point of breaking up with you in person rather than by text or e-mail. I mean, maybe if I had done it via Facebook you could call me callous.”

  “I’m talking about the callous treatment where you led me to believe we were headed for a commitment and then you dumped me, of course. Anyway, we’re bound to run into each at social functions, and well, you know how uncomfortable that would be for everyone if we can’t remain civil.”

  She had to be kidding. “I think at this point, the best way to keep things civil would be for you to ignore me if we do end up in the same place together. I promise not to take offense.”

  “I’ll assume you are joking.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Preston, I just don’t understand what’s wrong. We make a perfect couple. We come from good families. We have similar tastes and educational levels, and we come from the same social background. Why can’t you understand that?”

  “What I understand is that I don’t want to have a personal relationship with you, nor do I want a business relationship with your father.”

  Another audible gasp. “Taralynn, I’m hanging up now. Please don’t call me again.” He took the opportunity to end the call and turn off his phone. Rod had a smirk on his face that begged asking what was up. “Okay, Rod, you’re clearly dying to tell me something. What is it?”

  He chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “I don’t know, buddy,” he said. “If you’re having trouble brushing off Taralynn, maybe all you really need to do is divert her attention elsewhere.”

  “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “And if diverting her attention included someone more interested in making a commitment, maybe daddy will back off, too.”

  “How do you propose we divert her attention?”

  “Simple. Find someone else she’s hot to trot with. You know, she gets a new toy boy marriage prospect, and she’s likely to forget all about you.”

  “Possibly, but I have my doubts about Andy backing off his takeover bid.”

  “Are you kidding? If you could get Taralynn hooked up with some marriage-minded, eligible bachelor, she’ll probably insist her father stop with the takeover nonsense. After all, you can’t imagine she’s going to want her wedding sharing the spotlight with some corporate takeover, do you?”

  “Hard to say. You underestimate how much Andy Clarke loves his takeovers. Besides, where do we find some poor soul willing to volunteer to be Mr. Taralynn Clarke?”

  Rod smiled and licked his lips. “Oh, I don’t know. If you ask real nice, I might be willing to do it.”

  Was he serious? Preston studied his face for a moment, and realized he wasn’t joking. “You would do that? Marry Taralynn Clarke?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. Why not? She’s rich and good-looking. And besides, it’s not as if I can’t cheat or get divorced if the need arises.”

  “I can pretty much guarantee the need will arise.”

  “So what do you think?” Rod asked.

  Preston stopped grinning. “I think there would be a huge conflict of interest if my lawyer were to marry, or even date, the daughter of the man I’m about to file a lawsuit against.”

  “Okay then. You’re the boss.” Rod leaned back in his chair, turning his gaze away from Preston. “We’ll stick with our lawsuit and our threats to expose Andy’s teen-age mistress. Just don’t say I didn’t offer to help.”

  “Never think of it. Your sense of self-sacrifice amazes me.”

  Chapter 9

  Nicholas Beck took Taralynn’s third call, having ignored the first two. He knew from experience any newsworthy story she might be involved in was not one she would cooperate with. More than likely this was just another attempt at petty revenge on some former BFF turned frenemy. And petty in her case did not usually equal newsworthy. Still, on the off chance she’d stepped up her game, he finally gave in and took her call. “Miss Clarke,” he greeted, and took his phone off speaker. “It’s good of you to call. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Thank you for your kind words, Nick. It’s nice to know someone still knows how to behave like a gentleman.”

  “Gentleman?” He stifled a chuckle. Wasn’t often he got called one of those. “Am I to believe someone has treated you dishonorably?”

  She paused, as if in thought. “Well, you know, it’s just the increasingly rude society we live in. I’m always happy to speak with someone who still remembers their etiquette.”

  “Come now, Taralynn. I’ve never known you to let a little rudeness get you down. Where’s that formidable spirit I’ve grown so fond of?”

  “Oh, Nick, I positively adore you. I swear if you were to go into straight news instead of tabloids, I’d marry you in an instant.”

  “Now there’s a compliment.” Nick made a mental note not to let her know he planned on going into straight news. “So, what can I help you with? I suspect you didn’t call just to say hi.”

  “Well, I did have a wonderful news tip for you. Something I’d like to be kept discreetly out of, naturally.”

  “Naturally. What’s up in the world of the jet set?”

  “You’ve heard of my father’s tender offer against Ty-Ken Communications, haven’t you?”

  “News like that doesn’t usually slip by me.” Especially when it concerned the family of his ex-wife.

  “I didn’t think so. And I’ll bet your readers might be interested in hearing how Preston’s falling apart because of it.”

  “Is he really?” Sure didn’t sound like Preston.

  “Oh yes. Why he’s been practically living in the bars down in Key West, drinking himself into a stupor. You know, it’s really distressing to see someone I used to date turn into an alcoholic.”

  “Is that right?” Nick was skeptical, but he and Preston had never really liked each other. And his divorce from Preston’s sister Janelle had only emphasized that fact. A few photos of a rich, jet set playboy skulking around the bars in Key West would sell to his readers. This whole tender offer could be made into a nice little scandal if he played his cards right.

  “You know, Taralynn, I’d really love to have dinner with you. Any chance you’re planning a visit to Miami in the near future?”

  She giggled. “Actually, I just took Daddy’s jet down here
this morning.”

  Why didn’t that surprise him? “Great. I have plans for tonight, but let’s get together tomorrow. Why don’t I pick you up at, say, seven o’clock? We can spend the night enjoying each other’s company.”

  “That sounds perfectly splendid, Nick.”

  “Great. See you then.” He hung up the phone, pleased with himself. He might be glad he wasn’t Taralynn’s type, but she finally had a story that piqued his interest, and as he understood things, she gave one hell of a blowjob.

  Chapter 10

  After not sleeping all night, Maggie had a hard time getting up to open the bar by noon. After unlocking everything and making sure the bartenders, wait staff and her day manager, Tracy Capelli, had everything under control, she’d gone up to her office to take a nap. She’d finally nodded off only to be awakened in the middle of a dream by someone buzzing on her office door. Grouch was the only word she could think of to describe herself.

  She lay on her couch for a moment, not quite sure she even wanted to sit up. Until the buzzer rang again. “Darn it,” she muttered and pulled on her shorts and t-shirt.

  There must be some sort of problem, or Tracy would never have bothered her. “Just a second,” she said and pulled open the door.

  Tracy stood in front of Preston and a bald-headed man Maggie guessed must be Rod, Preston’s attorney. “I’m sorry, Maggie,” Tracy said right away. “They said it was important they see you.”

  Tracy, Maggie’s best friend and day manager, was a single mother in her late twenties, whose pin-up girl figure was a god-given asset, even if her peroxide blonde hair wasn’t. Their friendship had blossomed when Tracy showed up at a domestic violence shelter Maggie was helping to open. Maggie admired Tracy’s ability to overcome a really tough past, and break the pattern of abuse she’d become trapped in.

  “It’s okay, Tracy.” She opened the door farther and stepped back, nodding at Preston. “Come on in.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  The bald-headed guy immediately stuck out his hand. “Hey, Rod Skinner. It’s really great to meet you, Mags. Preston’s told me all about you.”

  “Oh really?” Mags? She arched an eyebrow at Preston, who looked embarrassed and directed his gaze elsewhere. When she looked back to Rod, she caught him looking her over, pausing briefly at her thigh-high, cut-off jean shorts, lingering over the outline of her breasts beneath her shirt, and finally meeting her stare. She disliked him already.

  He broke into a wide smile. “And Preston sure didn’t lie about what a knock-out you are, either.”

  “That’s nice. And did Preston also tell you that my name is Maggie, not Mags?”

  She noticed Tracy tear her gaze away from Rod and start to fidget. She hoped Tracy had enough sense not to be attracted to such a swaggering slug. She could certainly do better than Rod Skinner. She turned her gaze back to Preston, and shook her head. “I presume you have some documents for me to look over.”

  “Yes. They’re in my briefcase.” Preston laid the black leather case he’d been holding down on her desk, and Tracy turned back for the door.

  “I’m going back downstairs now and keep an eye on things,” she said. “The happy hour crowd’s starting to come in.”

  Maggie nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Rod Skinner’s gaze followed Tracy’s ass all the way out the door. Maggie supposed she shouldn’t be surprised Preston would allow himself to be represented by such an obnoxious creature, but she was. She took the papers from his briefcase and sat down on the sofa.

  The first document was a Complaint for an injunction to stop Clarke Industries from making an offer for Ty-Ken. She noted wryly she had already been listed as a Plaintiff. Minutes for a Special Meeting of the Board of Directors had also been prepared, as well as amendments to the By-Laws and Articles of Incorporation, and golden parachutes had been drafted for Preston and her. In the event of any takeover, they would each get a payout of fifty million dollars. If nothing else, at least Rod had acted quickly and the documents were solidly written. “I suppose these will do for now,” she said and made a mental note to have her own attorney review them.

  Rod narrowed his gaze at her. The effect was clearly intended to be provocative and sensual, but it only served to irritate her further.

  “Hey, sweetheart, I do a good job at everything I do. And if you ever want, I’ll be more than happy to prove it to you.”

  She looked at Preston and shook her head. “You should have told this clown before you brought him here he’d be wasting his breath if he tried hitting on me.”

  Preston’s eyes lit up and a wicked smile flashed across his face. “Actually, I did.”

  Maggie noticed Rod’s jaw clench. Great, so she’d been the object of some bet or something.

  “Hey,” Rod protested. “Can’t a guy show his appreciation for your beauty without getting his head bit off?”

  She didn’t bother answering the question, and was spared having him press the issue by his ringing cell phone. Rod answered the call, smiled and greeted his caller warmly. He held up his hand and said, “Just a minute. I’m going to take this call out in the hall.”

  As soon as he was out the door, Maggie turned to Preston. “He’s really quite a character. And you accuse me of running around with low lifes?”

  Preston grimaced, his grey eyes glaring in her direction. “I’d forgotten how impossible it was to talk to you without getting into an argument.”

  “Is that what we’re doing? I thought I was merely expressing my opinion.”

  “As I recall, that’s your standard excuse for everything.”

  “Interesting thought, Preston. But, unlike you, I don’t need an excuse for my opinions. They are what they are.”

  He heaved a sigh, and at that moment, Rod stuck his head in the door. “Sorry, guys, but I’ve got an important matter with another client. I’m going to have to run, but if you need anything, you can catch me on my cell.”

  Preston nodded. “No problem.”

  As soon as his attorney was gone, he turned back to Maggie. “You know what the real problem is? You’re jealous because I had coffee last night with Elise Chambers.”

  His words took her completely by surprise. Was that what he wanted? For her to be jealous? He had to be kidding. “I am not jealous, Preston. No matter how much you might like me to be.”

  He said nothing, just cast a disdainful glance. She’d struck a nerve. He did want her to be jealous. But why? Unless he was about to become the leopard that changed his spots, what was the point?

  “You are jealous,” he said, and stepped closer. “Why don’t you just admit you made a mistake three years ago?”

  “Why don’t you?”

  She had moved away from him, but once again he had her backed up against her desk, with nowhere else to go. And before she knew it, he’d moved in for the kill, pressing himself flush beside her and finding her mouth.

  The taste of his kiss startled her and she found herself beginning to sink into him, betraying every emotion she’d been working so hard to keep bottled up since he’d come back into her life. Great. Right. Just go ahead and let him kiss you. She twisted and jerked suddenly away from him, only to hit the edge of her desk in a way that sent a sharp wave of pain up the middle of her back. “Aah!” She grabbed for the injury and moaned, forcing herself to suck in the pain.

  “Oh Christ, Maggie, I’m really sorry.” Preston stepped to the side of her and then pulled up her shirt, just enough to examine her back. “I am such a complete and total idiot,” he said. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.” She pulled her shirt back down, forcing his hand away from her back. “And I am not jealous.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough. You’re not jealous, but I am sorry. The truth is I was hoping you might be jealous. I guess I’ve never really gotten over our break up. I just didn’t realize it until I saw you again.”

  She didn’t care what he’d done, and she didn’t believe his lies about re
gretting it. This conversation was pointless. Damn her for softening to his kiss. “I hear admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery,” she said. “Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”

  Preston laid a hand on top of hers and she was surprised to feel a slight tremble in his touch. His eyes had turned the color of mist and held a genuine glint of sorrow.

  “I’d like to think there’s hope for both of us.”

  Fighting every ounce of rational thought she possessed, her emotions tugged her toward forgiveness. His head bent down toward hers. Damn him! He was going to kiss her again. And she was going to let him.

  Chapter 11

  Rod parked in the lot of the ocean front condo in Miami where Taralynn had taken up residence for the duration of her visit. He waited with his car lights turned off, as instructed. Luck had been with him at the airport, where he’d been able to catch a flight right away from Key West to Miami. The plane had been little more than a puddle-jumper, but it had gotten him here, and now he’d be able to meet with Taralynn, find out what the little lady had to say, and start romancing her, despite Preston’s admonition not to.

  The prohibition on who he could date really pissed him off. As if Preston was somehow in charge of his love life. He could date whomever he wanted. He could marry whomever he wanted. He was as good as any of these people he worked for; just as smart, just as good-looking. Maybe not just as rich, but so what? Someday he would be, and they would have to let him into their little club, whether they liked it or not. Preston included.

  Good old Preston would no doubt be madder than hell if he ever found out about this little meeting though. And, as unlikely as it was he would find out while it still mattered, Rod had already started working on his defense if it did happen; he’d simply contend he was just looking out for his client’s best interest.

  The irony of the whole absurd situation was, while Preston complained about the ethical implications of his lawyer dating Taralynn, he had no qualms whatsoever about blackmailing Andy Clarke. Obviously an illegal thing to do. An uneasy feeling had gnawed at Rod ever since he’d discussed the idea with him. Why would Preston ask him to be a part of something illegal? Was he trying to set him up to take the fall if Andy went running to the police? Rod had a hunch that might be it. And while he didn’t draw the line at something like blackmail to achieve his goal, he did draw the line if he thought there was any chance it could backfire on him. And that was a real possibility with a man like Andy Clarke. Andy wasn’t known for taking any bullshit from anyone. There was a definite need to tread carefully where he was concerned.