Propositioned By The Tycoon: Mr Strictly Business / Bought: His Temporary Fiancée / A Win-Win Proposition

“Is the most serious.” Worry darkened her eyes and turned her voice husky with nerves. “We’re on the verge of bankruptcy, Gabe. And I don’t know why. I thought we’d been careful with our profit margin, but maybe there’s been more waste than I realized. I can’t quite get a handle on it. It’s not my area of expertise. I can tell something’s off, but I can’t seem to pinpoint what. I’m hoping you can figure it out and suggest changes to correct the problem before we go under.”

He keyed in on one very pertinent word that he hadn’t noticed until then. “We?” he repeated.

She hesitated. “I have a partner, someone who prefers to remain anonymous,” she hastened to add.

He didn’t like the sound of that. “Why?”

Catherine lifted a shoulder. “She just does. Since half the startup money was hers, I respect her desire for privacy.”

She. Gabe refused to allow his relief to show that the partner was female rather than a male. It was petty of him, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Not when it came to Catherine. Still, it seemed odd that this partner would want to keep her identity a secret. Maybe he’d do a little digging and see if he couldn’t find out what the mystery was all about. “Depending on what I find, that may need to change,” he warned. “There’s an excellent chance I’ll want to meet her.”

“I did discuss that possibility with her. She’s agreed that if it means the difference between salvaging the business and having Elegant Events go bankrupt, she’s willing to meet with you.”

“Good decision,” he said dryly.

“Agreed.” A quick smile flashed. He didn’t realize how much he missed it until it was there, reawakening an ache that had been tamped down, but never fully excised.“ Tell me what you require in order to get started,” she requested.

He forced himself to switch gears. “All bank and accounting records since you opened your doors.” He ran through a mental list. “Debts, creditors, cost of goods purchased, billables, write-offs. Your prospectus, past and current contracts, a list of services offered and what you charge for them.”

“In other words, you want a copy of everything.” She reached for her briefcase. Pulling out a thick folder, she handed it to him. “I have most of that information with me.”

He nodded. “Excellent. I’ll go over what you brought and have Roxanne prepare a list of anything more I might need.”

A shadow swept across Catherine’s face, evaporating so swiftly that he’d have missed it if he hadn’t been looking straight at her. “I’d hoped to keep my problem strictly between the two of us. Would you mind if we leave your assistant out of this? Is that possible?”

“Possible, but not probable. Roxanne is privy to most of what goes on around here.”

“And what she isn’t privy to, I’m certain she makes it her business to find out,” Catherine commented blandly. “How else can she provide you with everything you need?”

Okay, he knew a minefield when he saw one. “I’ll leave Roxanne out of the loop.”

“And if she asks?”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you questioning how I run my business? Considering why you’re here…”

“No, I—”

“I didn’t think so.” He relented. “But if it will make you feel better, should the subject come up in conversation, I’ll simply explain that you and I are an item again.”

Alarm flared to life in Catherine’s eyes. “Excuse me?”

“After all, it won’t be a complete fabrication.” He smiled in anticipation. “In fact, it won’t be a fabrication at all.”

She tensed, like a mouse finally noticing the trap. She’d been so busy nibbling at the tasty hunk of cheese that she’d been oblivious of it. Until now. “What are you talking about?”

“You never asked my price for helping you.”

She inhaled sharply before lifting her chin. “How foolish of me. I’d forgotten what a pirate you are, Gabe.”

“That’s me,” he agreed lazily. “A pirate to the bone.”

“So what’s your price? What do you want?”

He gave it to her hard and straight. “You. I want you, Catherine. Back in my life. Back in my apartment. And back in my bed.”

She shot to her feet. “You’ve lost your mind. You can’t possibly think I’d agree to such a thing.”

He regarded her in silence for a long moment before responding. “I guess that depends on how badly you want to save your business.”

“Not that badly.”

He stood and closed the distance between them. “Liar.”

“Whatever there was between us is over, Gabe. Dead.”

She was so small compared to him. So delicately put together. And yet she vibrated with sheer feminine outrage, with a strength and power he found irresistible. It was one of the qualities he’d always admired about her. Where most women looked for ways to make themselves as appealing to him as possible, Catherine had never played those types of games. He’d always known where he stood with her. Those gloriously unique eyes of hers could slay him with a single look, or melt him with the fire of her passion. Right now she was busy slicing and dicing him in every imaginable way.

“I know you’d like to think that what we shared is dead and buried.” He allowed his amusement to show. “But you’ve forgotten one small detail.”

“What detail?” she demanded.

“This…”

He slid his arms around her and locked her close against him. He remembered the feel of her, the perfect way her body fit his. She had a pixie-lean figure with delicious curves her trim business suit only hinted at. But they were there, and they never failed to arouse him. Unable to resist, he cupped her face and drew her up for a kiss. She didn’t fight as he expected, but neither did she respond. Not that he expected instant capitulation. That would take time.

For now, her full, generous mouth did no more than accept the teasing pressure of his. Gently, oh so gently, he teased his way past that sweet barrier, knowing just how she liked to be touched. Caressed. Taken. He’d missed the taste of her, the feel of her, the subtle scent of her. He missed the sharpness of her mind, and yes, even the sharpness of her tongue when she felt wronged.

He missed the quiet evenings when they’d sit together on his balcony sipping a glass of local merlot while day slid into night and Puget Sound came alive with the twinkling lights from the boat and ferry traffic. How they would slip from soft, sweet conversation to a soft, sweet tangle of arms and legs and lips. How their clothes would form a silken pathway from the balcony to the bedroom. And then the night would go from that softness, that sweetness, to something fiery and demanding. Something that branded their connection on every fiber of his being.

No matter how hard he tried to cut off that part of himself, that part indelibly linked to her, it would have been easier to rip out his heart and soul. He couldn’t live without her. And he wouldn’t. He’d been one of the living dead for long enough. He refused to spend another minute without Catherine in his life. And if it meant that he had to use blackmail to get her there, then that’s what he’d do. Because once he had her back, he’d do whatever necessary to keep her.

With a soft moan, her lips parted and he slid inward. For a split second she surrendered to him, taking all he had to give. Her body flowed against his and her lips moved with familiar certainty, nibbling hungrily. Her fingers slid into his hair and gripped, anchoring them together. And her heeled foot inched upward, hooking around his calf in a practiced maneuver. He recognized the signal and responded without thought. Cupping her bottom, he lifted her so she could wrap those incredible legs around his waist. The instant he did, she began to fight free.

“No!” She wriggled from his hold and took several stumbling steps backward. “This isn’t happening.”

“It’s too late, Catherine. It already happened.”

He saw comprehension burn in her eyes. He also caught an infuriated acknowledgment that their feelings for each other weren’t anywhere near as dead as she claimed, though if he didn’t miss his guess, that fury was aimed more at herself than at him. She closed her eyes, effectively shutting him out.

“Damn,” she whispered.

“Does that kiss prove my point, or is another demonstration necessary?”

She yanked at the hem of her suit jacket and with an exclamation of annoyance, shoved button through hole where it had come undone. Then she tugged at her skirt and smoothed her hair. What he’d ruffled, she swiftly unruffled. Then she regarded him with undisguised irritation. “You’ve made your point,” she retorted. He could only imagine the amount of effort it took to look at him. “You do realize that I believed it was over between us, or I’d never have approached you.”

“That’s rather naive of you since there’s not a chance in hell this will ever be over between us, sweetheart.”

Her chin shot up. “There shouldn’t have been anything left. I figured at most we’d have to kick over some of the ashes just to satisfy our morbid curiosity. I didn’t expect to find any lingering embers.”