A Seductive Proposal (7 page)

“Nope.”

She didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the question.

“How about you?” she asked. “Plans for a wife and children? After all, a man with an empire needs to leave it to someone.”

He shook his head. “Never had the smallest desire to marry or go the rug-rat route. When I’m dead, the state can take it all. Don’t care.”

* * * * * * * * *

Carly heard a thousand statements in his voice that made her want to ask another thousand questions, like who was Quint Barron that he lived such a solitary life without even the smallest interest in a family? She caught a glimpse then and there of something that must have gone wrong in his young years, something that still hounded him as though he ran through the woods with chains on his ankles and black-and-white stripes on his shirt and pants.

She sighed. She didn’t want to start thinking of him in these terms. Sympathy would so not help her right now.

She drifted away from him and moved down the long arched hallway to the great-room. The kitchen gleamed, all mahogany wood and stainless steel appliances, a beautiful dark wavy rust granite on every surface.

On the island, opposite a good size breakfast nook, her album sat. When Quint appeared at the end of the hall, she waved him forward. “Want to see some extensive befores and afters?”

“Sure.”

She flipped through the pages at a slow pace, evidence of all the labor the house had been for her, but also the joy. She showed him everything, the bulldozer phase, the vineyard reparations, the reconstruction of the winery that allowed many of the original brick walls to be retained within the new structure. She held nothing back. She wanted him to see her delight in the process and how much thought she’d given to every detail.

When she closed the book, he shook his head. “You did an amazing job. You this thorough with everything you do?”

“I guess I am.”

“Want to work for me?”

She caught her breath. She shouldn’t be so flattered but she smiled anyway. “Thank you for that, Quint, but I’m not interested, not one little bit.”

“I’m good to my employees.”

She just looked at him for a long moment then said, “I own a Jeep tour company and one day I hope to own more businesses. Like you, I kind of like being the boss.”

He got that half-lidded look again. She took a good step backward.

He laughed. “Am I that obvious?”

“I know some of your signs and when your eyelids droop, your hands and mouth tend to get busy really fast.”

He smiled then his eyes narrowed. “This will go a lot better for you, if you just sell the winery to me outright.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“It’s a warning. You need to know something about me, Carly, I always get what I want.” He held her gaze. “And I want your winery.”

His eyes darkened to an almost steely color and he didn’t smile. Carly felt a cold shrinking sensation throughout her entire body, like if she was smart she would shrivel to the size of a piece of dust and disappear between the floor-boards.

Intimidation.

Like she would let him get away with that.

She forced herself to breathe, to draw one breath right after the other, until that shrunken part of her re-inflated. Heat returned to her limbs and a new kind of fire burned in her veins. She felt a sudden need to open her mouth and let a string of expletives fly.

Instead, she held that powerful sensation tight in her chest and searched for the words she needed to send right back to him. At last, she said, “I once hiked twenty miles in rough terrain just to prove to myself I could do it. My feet hurt a little afterward and I had a couple of blisters the size of Texas, but that was all.”

His expression softened and his eyes returned to their usual Sedona blue. Her chest swelled. She felt all his other intentions once more pour from his body in heavy waves.

“Game on, then.”

“What game?” she responded, laughing. “I’m not selling my winery. E. O. S.” She slapped the album closed, drew the keys from her pocket. “Tour’s over, Quint. Time to head out.”

A few minutes later, she watched the last swirling dust from his speeding BMW drift into the desert. She had lived in Sedona a long time and had known a number of rich, powerful men. Sedona was one of those places where the wealthy tended to congregate and often retired.

But she had never met a man like Quint Barron before. He turned
drive
into a four-letter word. At least he’d warned her of his intentions but she honestly didn’t see how he could get her winery if she refused to sell it to him.

She climbed into her Acura and headed back to Uptown. She put Quint out of her mind at least for now. With any luck, he’d get sidetracked with one of his other projects and forget all about her insignificant winery. Of course, given what she knew about him, that would be as likely as a rattlesnake learning to smile.

Well, she wouldn’t think about that. She had a business to run and she needed to visit her friend, Martin Simms, to firm up her purchase of his Sedona Widows Board and Care Home, a house that had been converted in the eighties to provide independent living for low-income women. She was close now to making an offer on the large house that had for years been the domicile of eight elderly widows who lived on subsistence income. Most had been residents for over a decade.

When she told Quint she intended to own other businesses, the board and care home would be her first purchase. Not that she intended to turn a profit. This home had become more of a mission than anything, her way of giving back to the community. Still, she took great pride in the fact that her careful management of her Jeep tour business as well as the budgeting of her unexpected inheritance had made the venture possible.

* * * * * * * * *

As Quint headed back to town, he turned the winery dilemma over and over in his head. He had a lot of respect for Carly, even more so after meeting her winery manager and after seeing the album detailing her renovation process. However, none of that altered his goal. If anything, he wanted the winery more than ever.

He’d been serious about the job offer. Carly had the goods and he knew it but something about that set his blood on fire all over again. Just thinking about her made his abs tighten. He sucked a breath through gritted teeth.

His thoughts ran amuck. He pictured her naked and in bed, in
his
bed, in his
Scottsdale
bed. He thought about waking up with her and taking her again, of coming home after work and taking her back to that bed, of being with her in that bed all weekend.

What was he thinking? Why did she have the power to press his thoughts into the future?

He had to get a grip.

Don’t think about Carly.

Think winery and investments.

The deal. The Napa deal. That’s why he was here.

Okay.

He could breathe again.

His gut told him that the beautiful red rock canyon country of Sedona was the right place to get any number of deals done. The house as well, built around a small central courtyard, had all the elements he wanted for setting the stage for getting new business; size, which always mattered, architectural interest, vineyard cachet, and location near excellent shopping, a well-respected art world, fine restaurants and four-star hotels.

Waiting to turn south, he watched a crowded Jeep roll by. The door of the vehicle had a logo showing a Jeep leaping over a boulder, Carly’s logo. He smiled. He respected her for taking a job and turning it into a business, a competitive one at that. She had guts and stamina. She drove a Jeep with demanding gears up a bumpy hard-bitten road. No doubt she worked every day, like he did, taking rest and pleasure when it came but not often. He made his turn and headed south toward I-17, back toward Phoenix.

She could help him get this deal done.

He knew it.

He wanted The Napa Valley clients here in Sedona and he wanted them at Red Canyon Vineyards. The wives of the three potential clients could shop and sightsee and he could golf with the men and get some business done. Hosting this group would only be the first of many like enterprises.

But how to get the winery?

Carly’s outright refusal was an opening salvo, nothing more. He needed a way to get to her, to be with her, to figure out that one weakness that would make the winery his.

As he left Sedona, inspiration struck. He saw the next month roll out before him in the most perfect way. He knew what he needed to do on more than one front.

He had an itch for Carly that he couldn’t explain, which he needed to get rid of. He also wanted her winery as part of his working portfolio. When he put the two problems together, they cancelled each other out, fire-with-fire. He had no doubt that he’d emerge not only free of these powerful, incomprehensible longings for her but in possession of her winery as well.

He made a mental note to have Brad hire a top-notch PI to dig around in every aspect of Carly’s life.

Once he had his plans set, he’d head back to Sedona and begin his assault.

He slid on his Ray-bans and settled back in his seat. He loved this feeling of command. He would get to know Carly’s body all over again and in the seduction he’d get to know
her
. He’d get inside her head. He’d search and probe until he got what he wanted, her Achilles heel. As soon as he had that critical piece of information, the winery would be his.

His chest got really tight. He had a sudden uneasy feeling.

He’d never gone after a woman like this before. Taking her back to bed and keeping her there violated his one-date rule. He had good reasons for keeping his personal life simple—women tended to get emotional with successive encounters. He didn’t want Carly to start thinking he had more to give than just sex. If he wasn’t careful, she could get hurt and he didn’t want that. He might be ruthless when it came to building his business, but he would hate to think of Carly mistaking his intentions.

Well, he’d keep his finger on the pulse of that issue as the next three weeks went along. If he saw some danger signs, he’d remind her of their agreement that after the Napa deal, he’d be heading back to Phoenix for good.

He could breathe again and his brow cleared. From this point on, in his considered opinion, the winery deal was
just business
.

Now all he needed to do was to have a talk with Brad, his accountant and his lawyer then head right back to Sedona with his IT manager. Between the two of them, he would get his electronics set up, the way he did whenever he traveled, to keep his hands on every aspect of his empire.

Now that he had a plan, he felt certain he’d have Carly back in bed in no time and soon after, he’d have her winery.

Life was so good.

* * * * * * * * *

Two days later, when Quint hadn’t even called to pester her about her winery, Carly should have felt relieved. Her spirits however were strangely lethargic as she leaned over the lobby counter.

“I forgot to ask yesterday, did you have a nice Fourth?”

Tina nodded. “We were with Bob’s family. His idiot brother, Shane, had some illegal rockets. Of course he set them off and it was fun—that kind of thing always is—but one of the rockets misfired and landed in a juniper, in flames. That whole tree would have combusted if we hadn’t had a hose nearby.”

Carly shook her head. “Shane’s always been a loose cannon.” Her thoughts drifted elsewhere, to a set of broad shoulders and sky-blue eyes. She sighed.

“You sound like a dog who’s lost her bone,” Tina said. She tapped away at the computer. Every now and then she glanced at Carly.

“We’re slow today,” Carly said, her thoughts now fixed on the way Quint had sort of attacked her at the winery house.

“What are you talking about? You have a tour in ten minutes.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you wish he was still here?”

“Who?”

“Harry Blooker, of course.”

Carly rolled her eyes. “Of course I don’t miss Quint.” Okay a little lie. “Do you know what I miss?”

“What?” Her fingers tapped some more.

“Going on dates and having someone open your car door and that sparkle of anticipation when you know
he’s
on his way.”

“Wait,” Tina cried. She stared at the computer screen, her brows high on her forehead. “Uh-oh.”

“Don’t tell me a computer virus.”

Tina shook her head. “No, a different kind of virus.
He’s
on his way.”

“Who?”

“H.B.” Tina turned the computer screen around. She’d pulled up an email from Hunter Enterprises.

Carly scowled as she read, “
Have new plan. I’m on my way. This can work…for both of us.
”

“Oh, God.” She stumbled backward and fell into that same seat she’d fallen into just a few days ago. “Why is he coming? Did he say anything else, maybe in another email?” She jumped back to her feet. “Email him now. Tell him not to come.” As though an email would stop him. She’d need a Swat team and even then…

“It’s too late. This email was sent an hour ago.”

“I already told him no,” she muttered.

“Face it. He likes you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“He liked you enough that first day—or rather,
night.
” She waggled her eyebrows

“Would you stop it?” Carly cried.

“Your tour is ready to leave.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

* * * * * * * * *

Quint sat at the Cowboy Club bar and sipped the local Oak Creek Amber Ale. He had a view of the Mogollon Rim in the distance rising two thousand feet higher than Sedona. The Rim walls surrounded the northern and eastern part of the town like a citadel. The whole canyon ought to be the eighth wonder of the world.

His gaze dropped to the street. His chest tightened. His lips parted so he could suck in some air. Carly headed in his direction.

He swiveled on his stool. His heart thumped. She was like Sedona, a great natural beauty, her will as solid as the rock walls beyond.

He took a swig of the ale as he watched her. She looked angry and he smiled. He liked her riled up. Tina had warned him that she’d been as mad as fire when she read the email. So she was.