The Double Deal

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue (#uc2a845e6-38b8-5e2e-8e66-a088f32b2a8a)

Naomi Steele wasn’t naive.

Her life had brought enough challenges to make her wise—if not jaded. She’d expected pregnancy to bring changes too. Yes, hormonal upheaval. But also miraculous transformations, full of shimmering emotions and realized dreams.

She just hadn’t expected to feel such a ferocious internal roar—a primal drive—to protect her child at all costs.

Or possibly children. Plural? Twins ran in her family and having used in vitro increased her odds of fraternal twins. A wave of nerves—and nausea—hit her.

Breathe. Breathe. Focus.

With a report from the private investigator to her left and her computer screen to her right, she compared notes on the world-famous research scientist who could bring her the business coup—the security—she needed for her child. Sure, she had a large, wealthy family, and she lived in the confines of their estate outside of Anchorage, Alaska. Her suite was large. The enclosed balcony offered her magnificent views of both the bay and the mountains.

But none of that helped her feel as though she had a real stake in the family business. A legacy to share with her child. And since her pregnancy had been accomplished by in vitro fertilization with a sperm donor, she was utterly on her own to create that legacy. That lasting piece of the Steele portfolio that couldn’t be taken away.

Her family was in a state of upheaval. Her father’s upcoming marriage to a former business rival and the resulting merger of their two oil empires meant everyone in both families were fighting for roles in the new company—Alaska Oil Barons, Incorporated. Naomi needed to contribute to the business in a way that was undeniably hers.

And research scientist Royce Miller was her ticket to making that happen.

She let the corners of the private investigator’s report brush over her thumb like a flip book, information she already knew about Royce Miller, PhD, by heart. She let her gaze fall on her computer screen, where a rare image of him filled the space. He was a brilliant man, a reclusive genius. He was all compelling eyes and brooding good looks, his intelligence as evident as his strong shoulders.

She needed him to cement her value in the family business.

Was the anonymous father of her child half that smart? Half that strong? All moot musings. She’d chosen her path as a single parent, on her own.

Up to now, that independence had suited her just fine.

Since her battle with cancer as a teenager, she’d lived her life for herself, and with abandon. She’d embraced her competitiveness. In play, and later in her work as an attorney for her family’s Alaskan-based oil business. She preferred no strings in all her dealings, outside the connection to her widowed father and her siblings.

Now, she was still going her own way, but the stakes were higher than ever.

She had seen often enough how quickly a successful company could crash. And with the tumultuous merger of the Steele oil holdings with the Mikkelson oil family—thanks to her father’s surprise engagement to the Mikkelson matriarch—Naomi was more concerned than ever about the future of the business. Their competitor, Johnson Oil United, was hot on their heels, hoping to use the uncertainty during the merger as a chance to surge ahead in the market.

Naomi couldn’t grow complacent. She couldn’t back down.

Right now, her private detective and crazy good internet skills were her best advantages in tracking down her ace in the hole.

Finding the scientist and persuading him to bring his research on ecological advancements in oil pipelines to her family was paramount. At the very least, she needed to locate him and sneak a peek at his research. Aside from the benefits to her family’s company, his research could be the key to reducing environmentally based cancers, a passion she shared with her ecologist sister Delaney. Doubling the stakes, really.

After tireless searching for Dr. Miller, Naomi finally had a lead on the sequestered scientist. He’d retreated to the mountains to work on his research in an isolated but luxurious glass igloo.

Now that she’d found him, she just needed to come up with a plan to meet him. Hang out with him. And use her creative maneuvering to wrangle an afternoon together where she could work her way into his good graces and secure the deal of a lifetime.

One (#uc2a845e6-38b8-5e2e-8e66-a088f32b2a8a)

Research scientist Royce Miller didn’t have a problem shifting from cerebral to alpha mode to save a woman from a hungry Alaskan grizzly that should have been hibernating.

But he needed to put on some clothes first.

Royce gathered up his jeans, boots and a parka to go over his boxers and T-shirt. Beyond the thick paned glass of his remote getaway, a shaggy brown bear stalked toward an SUV. Parked in his snow-piled driveway, the driver—someone in a blindingly pink parka—honked the horn repeatedly. The blaring would have alerted a couple of city blocks, except this happened to be the only cabin for nearly a hundred miles.

Well, not a cabin exactly.

Renting this insulated glass igloo out in the middle of nowhere had given him the irresistible opportunity to soak up some rare Alaskan rays this month as he immersed himself in developing new safety measures for oil pipelines. Not that he gave a damn about a tan, but vitamin D from sunshine was in short supply this far north and crucial for bone health, muscle mass and strength. All of which could come in handy once he stepped outdoors to say howdy to the massive grizzly closing in on the SUV holding his unexpected guest.

The “guest”? An issue he would deal with later.

Just because he valued his privacy as highly as his vintage Pascal’s calculator, that didn’t mean he could let the angry bear take out the dainty woman behind the wheel of the four-wheel drive. Her pink hood bobbed left and right, fast, as if she searched for options. Or help.

At least she was in a vehicle. That gave him a few precious moments to prep rather than bolt out there in the buff.

Bolting away from the glass wall, he sidestepped his Saint Bernard. “’Scuse me, Tessie.”

Tessie, as in short for the scientist Nikola Tesla.

The two-year-old shaggy dog lifted her block head off her paws and tipped it to the side. She was worn-out from their time playing in the yard earlier, a long outing to stretch her legs since he’d known a blizzard was imminent. Was that why this driver had stopped here? Stranded on the way back to Anchorage? Spring was just one breath from winter up here.

His Saint Bernard narrowed her eyes, studying him intently. Sniffing the air, the dog let out a low whine, standing. Perhaps catching the scent of the bear. Not good.

“This isn’t the time for curiosity, girl.” Urgency pumped through him as he tugged on his jeans, pausing only to turn off his computer with a brisk click on his way by. Sensitive data secured.

From the bear and a lost tourist? Not likely.

Still, never could be too careful given the nature of his work. Patent-worthy research if all played out as he suspected. And when it came to his job, he was never wrong. The stakes were too high. Too personal.

His father had worked the old-school oil pipelines, like most of the population in the small Texas town where Royce had grown up. It had been a tight community. A loss of one sent ripples throughout that touched them all.

When his former fiancée’s father had died in an explosion, Royce’s world had been blown apart too. Then his fiancée miscarried their baby and left the country. Left him...

Shaking off the past, Royce dressed with methodical speed, shrugging into a fleece-lined flannel shirt, then tugging on a parka, and stepped into boots on his way to the door to deal with the massive curveball thrown at his day. This would have been the perfect secluded afternoon for productive thinking. He’d come to the wilderness retreat for peace, a slice of time with no distractions. No question, creating a safer, ecologically friendly oil pipeline was personal.

Corporations vied to get him on their payroll, but he preferred to work solo and, thanks to selling off a few patents, he had a multimillion-dollar cushion to innovate on his own terms. Such as working here. Alone.

So much for that plan.

Thinsulate gloves were all he could afford to wear and still use the tools at his disposal to rid them of the bear’s threat. A flare gun and, as a last resort, a shotgun.

“Tessie,” he said firmly, “stay.”