A Seductive Proposal (16 page)

* * * * * * * * *

Quint flinched. He turned away from Carly and moved to stare up at the buttes now a mere black skyline against a starlit sky. His legs twitched and flexed. A run would be good right now, a good long hard run to dissipate some of these grating sensations that worked over his skin.

She had him confused. She had somehow turned all this on him, as though he was in the wrong. Hiring a PI had been a business decision, nothing more. And yet when she said she’d hired a PI, he’d felt like she’d knifed him in the gut. He still writhed.

“You’re worked up,” he said. He left the window and headed to the door. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Hey, Quint.”

He turned back to her.

She met his stare, her brown eyes gutsy and hard. “Do I look all that worked up to you?”

He shook his head. “No, I guess not, but I can see that you’re mad.”

“You bet I’m mad.” She flipped the pages in her hands. “I’ll fax you this draft of the itinerary. You can send me your notes.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

He turned on his heel and left but when he got into his car, he didn’t head back to the hotel. Instead, he passed Tlaquepaque and headed out to I-17. In three days, she hadn’t softened toward him, not even a little. He’d screwed up but good on this one and some road time would help clear his head.

He drove and drove. The car just wanted to keep moving south all the way to Phoenix.

In the end, he decided to stay at his home in Scottsdale that night.

Before bed, he went for a swim then sat on the patio working a tumbler of Makers Mark. He contemplated the mess that had become his pursuit of a winery.

The real problem was that he’d gotten way too close to a woman. He’d never allowed this before and though he was able to keep his emotions out of the mix, Carly wasn’t. If he had any sense, he’d back off, stop trying to seduce her and hire another PI, someone with a few specialized people-skills to infiltrate her life and find out what he hadn’t been able to yet, that one piece of leverage he could use to get her winery.

He knew half a dozen PI’s he could call but he didn’t want anyone like that so close to Carly.

He stood up and paced. His Makers sloshed in the glass as he moved. His swim trunks had already dried in the hot air of the July night. He took a deep swig of his whisky, paced a little more and shoved his hand through his hair.

Goddam this so wasn’t going the way he had thought it would. And what the hell was this protective shield he’d placed around Carly that he wouldn’t allow a more invasive PI into her life? Where had that come from?

He paused in his steps, put his fingers to his forehead and forced himself to focus on Red Canyon Vineyards, on his clear-cut goal to have the winery in his portfolio. He even liked the name since it evoked images of all those incredible buttes and rock formations scattered throughout the Sedona area. He pictured the spas, resorts, golf courses and art galleries that always drew the wealthy. He pictured entertaining in that house, a cozy kind of warmth that would allow for conversations involving finance, investments and empire building.

He needed Carly’s winery in his domain.

And he would get her winery.

He just needed to focus, to figure this out, to plan his next strategy, to not let himself get confused by a pair of brown eyes.

If he couldn’t hire someone to do the dirty work, then he needed to keep at it himself. He needed to bring Carly close again, but how the hell to get her there when she’d turned into a glacier?

He started to pace once more. He swigged his whisky again. He set the tumbler down on the cement at the pool’s edge. He rose up, lifted his arms then dove in. The cool water soothed his irritation as he swam the distance to the far end.

When he surfaced, he extended his arms to either side of the pool edge and supported his body as he floated in the water. He looked up at the stars.

Carly would like this view. She had once given him a whole list of her favorite things and looking at the stars had topped her list.

He’d love to have her here, balanced on his body—naked of course—so that she could look up and let her gaze drift over the dark night sky.

But how to get her here. He couldn’t take back the PI report now. That pit had already been dug. So the real question became how to make it up to her. He scoffed at himself. Sending flowers had been the work of an amateur.

He pushed away from the side of the pool and swam the distance back to the opposite edge. He lifted out to sit with his feet dangling in the water. He finished his Makers.

A brilliant white light pierced his thoughts. Inspiration struck and he smiled. He knew exactly what he needed to do to make this right and his body relaxed. Yes, he knew what to do now.

The next day, he had Sheila put together a new file for Carly.

Then he called Tina. She still called him Harry, for obscure never-to-be-known reasons, but she worked with him. Why she had allied herself with him, he didn’t know, but she laughed a lot, just like Brad.

When he had everything set up, he locked up his Scottsdale house and start the trek back up to Sedona. By tomorrow, he’d have Carly beside him, in his car, heading back to Phoenix, to be with him for one whole day and if all went as planned, one whole sexy-as-hell night.

* * * * * * * * *

“But you’re supposed to be my friend?” Carly complained.

She stood in the doorway of her bedroom, at eight-thirty in the morning, watching Tina move in her brisk way from closet, to bathroom vanity, to dresser as she shoved things into a small rolling suitcase. Tina had arrived a half hour earlier, having turned traitor, hell-bent on making her go to Phoenix with Quint.

“I
am
your friend and I’m telling you that you have to go with him. He’ll be here in no time and my job is to have you packed. By the way, and this is just a heads-up, you need to buy some new underwear. I could only find three pair.”

“Laundry,” Carly said, but her cheeks grew warm. She tried not to think about the two thongs Quint had ruined, or the circumstances in which he had done so in the first place. “I’m not going with him anywhere and why would you pack four bras or even three underwear? Isn’t this just supposed to be an overnighter?”

“Then you figure it out.” Tina whipped back to her closet. “What about this little black dress? You think this should go? Maybe he’ll take you to dinner.”

“I’m not going.”

“Oh, you’re going. He told me what he has planned and I’m telling you right now, you don’t want to miss out on this.”

“You didn’t tell me you knew what he was up to.”

Tina held out a beige silk halter dress. “Maybe this one.” She took both dresses and hung them inside a garment bag.”

“Would you please stop, Tina? Quint would have to kidnap me to make me go anywhere with him right now.”

Tina turned and faced her. “You know, I may not be all that familiar with Quint’s likes and dislikes but something tells me that if you suggested a kidnapping, he’d take you up on it. Better just go along for now.”

For some reason, all those images, like being tied up and thrown over Quint’s shoulder, worked on Carly in a bad way. She swallowed hard and moved into the vanity to collect several plastic bags that she used to organize her toiletries for travel.

“That’s the spirit,” Tina called out.

Carly shrugged. “You’re right about him. Once he gets something fixed in his head, he won’t rest until he sees it through. I have a pair of black heels somewhere. Oh, and I haven’t worn that flower thing ever. See if you can find sandals to go with it.”

“I’ll find them.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

* * * * * * * * *

Carly had the house locked up, her rolling suitcase and garment bag in hand and her purse slung over her shoulder as Quint pulled into her driveway.

She met him with a hard stare. “This had better be good.”

The mountain lion only smiled as he took her travel gear out of her hands. Then he looked at her and kind of froze in place for a long moment. “You’re wearing a dress.”

“A sundress,” she said, glancing down at the bold teal, red and yellow print. “It’s hot here so it has to be blazing in Phoenix.”

He stood there, the garment bag over his shoulder, the flight bag held in one hand. He just kept looking at her. His gaze slid down to her bare knees all the way to her polished toenails.

She had no idea what he was thinking until his gaze slid all the way back up her body liked he jogged a slow marathon. His eyes turned half-lidded.

Uh-oh.

She felt those dangerous vibrations begin in her abdomen, the ones that sent streaks of treacherous desire flowing to every part of her. Little arcs of electricity passed through the air and her lips parted in an effort to help her take her next breath. This was what Tina didn’t understand. Carly had such a thing for Quint, something that ranged well outside what was healthy and normal. She was still so mad at him and yet sunk in a well of pure craving at the same time.

He turned away from her at a snail’s pace, so much so that he looked like he moved in slow motion. He shook his head over and over. Maybe she wasn’t the only one being tormented today. He stowed her luggage inside the trunk. He returned to the passenger door and opened it for her.

Carly stared at the charcoal gray paint of the vehicle, at the lighter gray leather bucket seats. He’d left the motor running and cool air flowed toward her.

Another threshold
.

She so shouldn’t get in. She’d be trapped in this car with a wild four-legged beast for at least two hours if she did.

But her feet moved her forward, even if she shuffled a little with each step. As she drew close to the car, Quint murmured, “You look very pretty today.” He sounded like he had gravel in his throat. She knew that sound. She always heard that exact pitch and resonance when he said devastating things to her like,
you feel so good in my arms
or
I love being in your bed.
She was in such trouble.

By the time she crawled into the seat her breasts ached and her white lace thong was way too damp. She clutched her purse on her lap like it was a life preserver.

When Quint slid behind the wheel, he growled, “Why do you have to smell like flowery seas?”

She knew one thing about this trip. If this kept up, she would very soon go insane or she’d force him to pull over to the side of the road then she would do wicked things to him while he remained seated behind the wheel.

Heaven help her.

Quint turned up the air-conditioning and a big blast of cold air did wonders to cool her off, in more ways than one. She released a deep sigh of relief. She settled her purse on the floor beside her teal sandals. She adjusted her seatbelt.

Before he put the car in gear, he reached into the space behind her seat and pulled forward a large, black leather zippered pouch. “Just a little reading material for the road,” he said.

“Just a little?” she asked, as the heavy packet plopped onto her lap. She had no idea what was inside.

He backed out of her drive. “Go ahead. I put this together just for you.”

She rubbed her palm over the fine, soft leather then unzipped. When she opened the pouch, she found that the contents were grouped in thick clumps, which would make for an easier handling of the sheer volume of material.

“What is this?”

He put the car in gear and drove down her street. “You’ll see.”

She thought perhaps he’d brought her more information on Gerald Thompson or the rest of the Napa guests. Instead, the first page was a color copy of an article from
Fortune
magazine, which featured Quint seated on the edge of a desk and staring into the camera with that I’m-taking-on-the-world stare of his. He was so handsome and so ridiculously photogenic. She ran her hand over the picture just as she had the surface of the pouch.

“With this kind of exposure,” she said, “you must have every gold-digger in these United States hunting you down.”

“What is it about women and their pursuit of men with money?” He turned west onto 89A.

“I don’t think that’s so complicated. Every woman who comes after you just has strong survival instincts. A powerful man could take charge of a tribe, should we one day revert to Neanderthal hunting-and-gathering units. In the simplest terms, that means that
her
man would be able to protect
their
children. Get it?”

“And you believe that?”

She glanced at him. “On a basic level, I guess I do.”

“Then why aren’t you all over me?” He smiled, probably at his choice of words.

She grinned and a lot of the tension left her. “Because I have another set of survival skills that my female ancestors developed during the post-Neanderthal era. We learned to detect the emotional unavailability of powerful men and shunned them.”

He narrowed his gaze. “And do you really believe that as well?”

She laughed. “Sort of. I guess. Why not?”

“Just read, Grayson. You’re kind of annoying me right now.”

As the car sped by Tlaquepaque, Carly settled down into the seat and did as instructed. She surfaced now and then to enjoy a stretch, to glance out the changing landscape then to sink again.

Quint had provided her with a mountain of information, most of which came from newspapers and magazines, all about him. The various sources brought together a solid portrait of his several businesses, his philosophy of enterprise, which she had to admit wasn’t half-bad, and a number of photos of remodeled executive suites that would have pleased Grace’s artistic sensibilities to no end.

She read through one hour and began the second. She opened her eyes wide when she came across his financial statements. Her mouth fell open. He’d revealed just about everything to her about his personal finances.

She looked out the window and dragged air into her mouth. She couldn’t fathom his level of wealth.

“This couldn’t have been easy for you,” she said, frowning at him. “Giving me access to all this private information.”