The Illegitimate Heirs: Caleb, Nick & Hunter: Engagement between Enemies

“Let me put your fears to rest right here and now. I’m not getting rid of you or anyone else,” he said, forcing his mind back to the matter at hand. She had no way of knowing, and he wasn’t about to tell her that he didn’t have a clue about running a firm of financial consultants or that he’d have to rely heavily on her and others’ experience in order to keep from falling on his face. “Your job is just as safe today as it was before Emerald, Inc. bought this firm.”

She pushed her glasses back up her nose with a brush of her hand. “You say that now, but it’s a well-known fact that within six months of any takeover there’s always a shake-up.”

“That might happen with a hostile buyout, but Emer-ald Larson bought this company with Frank Skerritt and Martin Crowe’s blessings. They both wanted to retire, but neither of them had family members who wanted to take the reins of the firm.”

As he watched her nibble on her lower lip while she considered his words, he found himself wondering if her perfectly shaped lips were as soft and sweet as they looked. Swallowing hard, he decided that he’d better keep his mind on business and off the fact that Ms. Merrick had the most kissable mouth he’d seen in a very long time.

“I’ll be—” he stopped to clear the rust from his throat before he continued “—making a few small changes here and there. But as far as I’m concerned, the only way any of the employees will lose their job is if they up and quit.”

“We’ll see,” she said softly.

Her expression was completely neutral and gave no indication of what she was thinking. But Caleb knew she wasn’t buying his assurances for a minute.

Deciding that he’d probably have more luck convincing a pack of wolves to become vegetarians than he would getting A. J. Merrick to believe her job was secure, Caleb took a deep breath and stood up. “I think I’ll mosey on out of here and introduce myself to a few of our people.”

“But what about the meeting I have set up for tomorrow morning at ten, Mr. Walker?” she asked as she rose from her chair.

Was that a hint of panic he detected in her wide blue eyes?

Interesting. It appeared that any break with tradition threw A. J. Merrick for a loop. He’d have to remember that.

“The name’s Caleb.” He shrugged. “The meeting is still on. I’ll just use it to outline a few of the policy changes I intend to make and explain my plan of action.”

He noticed the white-knuckled grip she had on her ink pen and, without thinking, reached across the desk to place his hand on hers in a reassuring manner. But the moment his palm touched her satiny skin, a charge of electricity zinged up his arm and quickly spread throughout his chest. Her startled gasp told him that she felt it, too.

Quickly moving his hand, he tried to appear nonchalant about the gesture. But considering his insides were still tingling like he’d grabbed hold of a 220-volt wire, that was mighty damned hard.

“Relax, Ms. Merrick,” he said, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. Surely he didn’t need to get laid so badly that he’d started getting turned on by merely touching a woman’s hand. “Not only do you have my word that your job’s safe, I promise that what I have in mind will improve employee morale and increase productivity.”

At least, that’s what he hoped to accomplish. Considering he didn’t know beans from buckshot about running this or any other company, he’d just have to operate on the trial-and-error system, refer to the management manual he’d picked up at a bookstore and hope for the best.

She defensively folded her arms beneath her breasts and simply stared at him. “I suppose I’ll have to take your word on that.”

“I guess you will,” he said, walking toward the door. He needed to put some distance between them in order to regain his perspective. He was here to take over the consulting firm, not try to figure out why this woman’s reluctance to believe him bothered the hell out of him. Or why he was starting to get turned on by staring into her pretty blue eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Ms. Merrick.”

“C-Caleb?” She stumbled over his name, but the sound of it on her soft voice did a real number on his neglected hormones.

His hand on the doorknob, he turned back to face her. “Yes, Ms. Merrick?”

“I suppose since you insist that I use your first name, you might as well call me A.J.”

“Okay, A.J.” He smiled. Maybe they were making progress after all. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

A.J. watched the door close behind Caleb Walker a moment before her trembling legs folded and she collapsed into her leather executive chair. Why was her heart racing? And why did her skin still tingle from his touch?

She removed her glasses and buried her face in her hands. What on earth had come over her? She never had been, nor would ever be the type of woman who let a handsome man divert her attention from what was important. At least not since the fiasco with Wesley Pennington III. He’d taught her a valuable lesson, and one that she couldn’t afford to forget—mixing business with pleasure was a fool’s game, one that ultimately led to disaster.

Normally, it wasn’t even an issue. Since losing her heart, her virginity and her first job due to her naiveté, she’d made it a point to do everything she could to appear as professional as possible. It kept things simple and helped to reinforce her strict policy of keeping coworkers at arm’s length. And it had worked well.

Most people, and especially men, were put off by her all-business demeanor and didn’t bother taking a second glance at her. And that suited her just fine. But Caleb Walker had not only looked twice, he’d focused his disturbing hazel gaze on her from the moment he’d walked into her office.

A tiny tremor coursed through her. He had a way of looking at her that made her more aware of her femininity than she’d ever been in her life. And that was what made him dangerous.

Shaking her head, she tried not to think about the wild fluttering in her lower stomach that she’d experienced when Caleb had smiled at her, and concentrated on the fact that he was her new boss. He was here to take over Skerritt and Crowe and eventually replace her with one of his own people. And even though he’d assured her that wasn’t the case, she knew better. Everything she’d worked to achieve in the past five years was about to go down the drain and she was powerless to stop it.

She put her glasses back on and swiveled the chair around to stare out the plate-glass windows. Blindly watching the late-June sun bathe downtown Albuquerque with its warm afternoon rays, she fought the urge to cry. She had a feeling that Caleb Walker was going to turn her structured, well-ordered world upside down. And there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop him.

There was no telling what kinds of changes he intended to implement or just how quickly he’d decide she was dispensable. And the most upsetting aspect of all was the fact that all she could think about was how intense his hazel eyes were, how his light brown hair hanging low on his forehead made him look more like a rebel than a businessman. And how the combination of his deep baritone and sexy Southern accent made her insides hum.

“Don’t be a fool,” she muttered, turning back to her desk.

She wasn’t interested in Caleb Walker any more than he was interested in her. But as she stared at the documents on her desk, she couldn’t stop thinking about how broad his shoulders looked in his chambray shirt, how his jeans fit him like a second skin or how her hand still tingled where he’d touched her.

When a tiny moan of frustration escaped, she quickly stuffed the pile of accounting reports she’d been reviewing into her briefcase, grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer of the desk and headed for the door. “I’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day,” she told Geneva as she rushed past her.

A.J. didn’t wait for the startled receptionist’s reaction to her atypical behavior. She didn’t have time to worry about that now. She needed to get to her apartment be-fore the cool persona she’d perfected over the years slipped away and she revealed what only her parakeet, Sidney, knew about her.

Alyssa Jane Merrick wasn’t the cold, emotionless automaton everyone at Skerritt and Crowe thought her to be. She was a living, breathing woman who collected whimsical figurines, shed buckets of tears over sentimental or touching moments, and feared failure more than anything else.

As she walked across the parking lot, she quickened her steps and trotted the distance to her sensible black sedan. She was less than a split second away from doing one of two things. She was going to either let loose with a scream loud enough to wake the dead or start crying like a baby. Neither one was acceptable behavior for her professional image.

Unlocking the driver’s door, she threw her briefcase inside, slid behind the steering wheel and closed her eyes. She counted to ten, then twenty as she struggled with her emotions. For the first time in five years, she was close to losing the tight grip she had always held on herself whenever she was at work. And that was something she simply couldn’t afford to let happen.

She had never, nor would she ever allow any of these people to see her lose control. Not only would it be a serious breach of her professionalism, but her late father would come back to haunt her for doing something so typically female.

From the time she’d been old enough to listen, her career-military father had stressed how important it was not to let her enemies see any sign of weakness. And there was no doubt about it, Caleb Walker posed a serious threat to her professional demeanor. But he was also the best-looking enemy she’d ever seen.

Two (#ulink_f8e6524f-d809-53bb-ba8d-a63ba19483e5)

“The first thing I want to do this morning is assure all of you that your jobs are secure,” Caleb said, addressing the directors and department managers. He made it a point to look directly at A. J. Merrick. “Contrary to standard corporate practice, I have no intention of letting anyone go in favor of bringing in my own people. The only way you’re going to lose your job is if you make the decision to quit.”

The doubt he detected in her blue gaze stated quite clearly that she still didn’t believe him. What he couldn’t figure out was why it mattered to him that she trust him. If their collective sigh of relief was any indication, the rest of the occupants in the room did. What made her opinion of him so damned important?

Deciding not to dwell on the mystery of why her doubts bothered him, Caleb turned his attention back to outlining his plans for the company. “I’ve reviewed the quarterly reports for the last fiscal year and although growth is slow, it has been steady.” He grinned. “And as my grandpa Walker always said, ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’ That’s why I won’t be making changes in the daily operations of the company.” At least not until I can take a few business courses and figure out what the hell I’m doing.

“I like the way your grandpa thinks,” Malcolm Fuller said, nodding.

Caleb chuckled. “I’m glad that meets with your approval, Malcolm.” He’d met the older man the day be-fore and they’d instantly hit it off. Malcolm reminded Caleb of Henry Walker, his late grandpa—filled with country wisdom and more than willing to speak his mind.

When Caleb noticed several raised eyebrows and the exchange of curious glances between the other department heads seated at the big oval conference table, he frowned. Apparently all of the employees at Skerritt and Crowe were as unaccustomed to the laid-back, informal approach to management as A. J. Merrick was.

Taking a deep breath, he figured there was no time like the present to shake things up and see how receptive the management team was to the changes he did have planned. “Although I don’t intend to adjust the operating procedures, I do plan to make a few improvements to the work atmosphere around here.”

“What did you have in mind, Mr. Walker?” Ed Bentley asked, looking more than a little nervous.

“The first thing we’re going to do is drop the formalities.” Caleb gave them all a smile he hoped would put their minds at ease. “Don’t you think it’s pretty silly to work with someone eight hours a day, day in and day out and not use their given name?” Before they could react, he went on. “We’ll naturally continue to give our clients the respect they deserve and address them in a formal manner. But I want you all to feel free to be on a first-name basis with me, as well as each other.”

The men and women at the table began to smile. Everyone, except A.J. Her clasped hands resting on the table in front of her had tightened into a white-knuckled knot, indicating that she strongly disagreed with his decision.