Ten Ways To Win Her Man

“Now you’re the uncontroverted CEO of Harrington Resorts and Enterprises, Ltd., something you’ve been groomed for all your life.”

“That’s about the size of it,” Danielle agreed. She didn’t tell him that she’d absorbed her father’s teachings almost by osmosis. She’d been by his side mostly for photo opportunities.

“They say all you care about is the bottom line,” Maxwell said.

That stung a little. “Close, but not quite.”

“And you’re alone now.”

She jumped in her chair as though he had touched her, but when she looked at him, he was studying the model of the resort. Her heart kicked. Had he said that—or had she imagined it? Again she had the panicky feeling that he could somehow see inside her head. Alone had been a cold place inside her through too many years of her life to count.

That had definitely gotten a reaction out of her, Max thought, watching her through his peripheral vision. “The Gold Beach resort is the first you’ve done entirely by yourself.”

“Insofar as from start to finish, that’s correct.” But she spoke with less than her usual force, he noticed.

“What a shame. It would have been spectacular.”

“It’s going to be a doozy.”

He laughed aloud. “What do your friends call you?”

“Why?” she asked, startled.

“Danielle? Sir? M’lady?”

“Danielle.”

“Ah.”

This time that single word slid over her skin like warm velvet. “Ah, what?” she asked suspiciously.

“Just, ah. May I call you Dani? I think it suits you more.” Danielle was the woman he’d just described, he thought. Dani would volley about words like doozy.

“No!”

Maxwell laughed again. “Then, m’lady, I will tell you this. Assuming your new resort was actually to come into being, you’d want the entrance to face the sea.”

“I would?” Danielle sat up straighter in her chair, eyeing him.

“Imagine the view during a good storm that keeps people inside.”

He had a point and she liked it.

“Unfortunately,” he continued, “this resort cannot possibly come into being because if it does, it will destroy untold unborn semipalmated plovers. The birds are indigenous to Alaska and western Canada, but they migrate twice yearly to South America and back again. And Gold Beach is one of their very favorite places to stop and nest along the way. Particularly, your section of Gold Beach.”

“They’ll be welcome, of course.” Danielle sat back in her chair again. “Our low-end rooms will start at $175 a night.”

He brought the bottle of scotch back to her desk and topped hers off without adding water. Danielle nudged it away carefully, her hands a little unsteady as he leaned across her desk toward her.

“I think that’s out of their price range,” he murmured.

She forced a shrug. He was too close. “I’m sorry. I can’t help them then.”

“Where else will they go?”

“Jonas Patterson’s place in Monterey?”

He grinned, but this time it was a fast look, gone almost before it started. It showed teeth. “The birds only visit in the spring and fall. They should return to that beach any day now. When you break ground on May first, you’re going to destroy every egg they put down. Don’t kill them off, Dani. Have a heart.”

She shot to her feet. Maybe it was because he had called her Dani. Maybe it was the fact that he’d remained close enough to her to breathe her air. Or maybe it was only because his suggestion was outrageous. “You honestly expect me to scrap a thirty-million-dollar project because of some birds?”

“Honestly,” he agreed.

“You’re crazy!”

“As a loon.”

“How did that species get into this?”

“Actually, I saved them, too, at a lake atop Junipero Sierra Peak five years ago.”

“You’re a regular Birdman of California, aren’t you?”

“I’m an environmental lobbyist.”

“And environmental issues are Stanley J. Roberson’s platform. What a coincidence.”

“Not really.”

That surprised her. He was honest. She liked it. “Maybe you should tell him to stick to the state budget.”

“I can’t save that for him and I never promised I would.” Maxwell finally left her desk and strode across the room, back to the model.

Danielle looked down into her glass. Somehow it had gotten into her hand again and now it was empty. She had probably consumed more scotch in the last half hour than she had in the previous three years combined.

And Max Padgett was looking better by the mouthful.

“This is absurd,” she muttered, not sure if she was speaking of the birds or the way his grin softened his mouth, the way he had her reacting.

“You won’t end up thinking so.”

She looked up again quickly. “Is that a threat?”

“More or less.”

“With what? I’m legal! That sight is clean, totally permitted, ready to go!”

“But it won’t go because deep in your heart you know I’m right about this.” He paused and looked at her steadily. “Take a step back, Dani. Think it over. If you proceed, you’ll have a substantial fight on your hands. This was a courtesy call. After this, things get ugly.”