Private Parts (2 page)

T
HREE HOURS LATER,
T
ROY
stood in his office, the telephone plastered to his ear. He was trying to convince a supplier to wait one week longer for the go-ahead on an order he’d placed half a year ago.

Barely visible to him were his surroundings.

He’d grown up in the old lumber mill. Had hid under the metal desk to his right that once belonged to his father and his grandfather before him. Had pressed his nose against the glass walls on three sides of the office, and written his name in the fog circle of condensation from his breath on the multi-paned windows through which thick forests could be seen. Had played on the iron-wrought catwalk and stairs that overlooked the open mill space below—a large area that used to buzz with activity but was now quiet, the old equipment kept more for sentimental reasons than any real use.

Every now and again Troy would catch the scent
of wood chips, reminding him of times gone by. But mostly he was too focused on the future to notice it or much about his surroundings.

“I’m going to have to go up on the price,” the sales rep said.

Troy rubbed his closed eyelids. When he opened them back up, his gaze fell on the Christmas card he’d received in today’s mail. From his ex-girlfriend, Gail. And his ex-best friend, Ray. Who were now a married couple sending out holiday cards together.

“Look,” he said into the phone. “My secretary is motioning me into a meeting. Let me get back to you later today or early tomorrow…”

He quickly wrapped up the call and stood for a long moment trying to regain his bearings while he stared at the Christmas card. Lately, his days were full of like phone conversations. And they were beginning to take a toll on him. He’d talked his way around, out of and into so many corners he’d considered investing in a sledgehammer.

“You ready?” Ari asked from the open doorway, standing alongside Patience, his secretary.

Troy glanced through the glass. The conference room was at the far end of the wide elevated walk-way, five glass-walled offices in between, while another five lay on the other side of his own office. Meeting participants were milling around, getting coffee and talking to each other. He hadn’t even no
ticed them come in. Which was saying something, because they would have had to walk by his office.

His gaze went to Manolis Philippidis, who was the only one sitting. He was drumming his fingers against the table and looking at his watch.

Troy tossed the unopened greeting card into the wastebasket, accepted a file from Patience and followed his brother to the meeting room.

After greeting everyone else, he finally stood in front of Philippidis. He extended his hand, half expecting the Greek to ignore him. Instead, he was surprised when he got to his feet and returned the handshake.

“Let’s do business,” Troy said, feeling twenty pounds lighter as he took his seat at the head of the table.

“Sorry I’m late,” a female voice said from the doorway.

Troy looked up to see a beautiful, leggy blonde enter the conference room. A familiar beautiful, leggy blonde.

He nearly fell into his chair as the woman who had introduced herself as Kendall Banks earlier at the diner shook hands with Philippidis and then the rest of the table before presenting herself to him.

Outside of her name, it was the sexy smile that linked her to the woman he’d met earlier. Otherwise, she looked completely different. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, a warm, golden blonde.
She wore makeup that accentuated her green eyes and complemented her naughty mouth, but didn’t overwhelm her pretty face. And she’d exchanged her running pants and tank for a plum-colored suit with a short skirt, her long legs made longer still by the black heels she wore.

Troy found himself tugging at his collar as he took her hand.

“Hello again,” she said with the hint of a smile.

Suddenly, his collar wasn’t the only item of clothing that had grown tight.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said to the room at large, tugging her gaze from his and walking around the table to the only free seat. “I was pulled over by your local sheriff for speeding and…well, afterward I really needed to speed, but didn’t dare.”

Chuckles and laughs.

“Did Barnaby ticket you?” Ari asked.

Kendall’s smile was wide and unapologetic. “Of course not.”

Philippidis cleared his throat. “Miss Banks will be the point man…or woman, rather, in putting this deal together. Seeing as my regular point men—” he looked over at Palmer and Caleb “—are now working for you.”

Troy couldn’t seem to take his gaze away from Kendall’s face where she’d taken the seat at the far end of the table. The brief arch of her right brow told him she hadn’t known about the little detail her
boss had just shared. Did that mean she was also in the dark about the history behind their business dealings?

Ari was the one to clear his throat this time. “Troy?”

He blinked and stared at his brother.

“Oh, yes. Right.” He opened his file and his secretary took her cue and began handing out the notes he’d had printed up. “If you’ll refer to page two, paragraph four…”

T
HREE HOURS AND A CATERED
working lunch later, Kendall lingered at the conference table rewriting notes that didn’t need rewriting while the other meeting attendees left one by one.

Finally, she and Troy were alone in the room.

She slowly closed her leather-bound notebook and sat back in her chair, watching as he walked from the door where he’d just seen off his brother to the window overlooking the grounds to her right.

“Did this used to be a mill?” she asked, appreciating the fit of his navy blue suit, rather than their surroundings.

When they’d met earlier at the diner, she’d been instantly struck by how hot Troy Metaxas was. Intensely so. And his conversation with his brother before the others had arrived had amused her to no end.

So there was no one currently in Mr. Troy Metaxas’s
life then? Good news for her. Because there was no one in her life, either. Not after her last boyfriend had taken a powder, saying something about her being too forward for him, too outspoken.

How was she supposed to know that his mother hadn’t been aware that he’d lost his job three months ago?

Well, she did now. And Kendall was currently without a boyfriend. But seeing as they’d only dated for four months, she wasn’t really crying in her chardonnay.

“Yes.” Troy finally answered her question as he turned from the window. “My family owned this lumber mill for nearly a century before closing it for good four years ago.”

She nodded. “I like that you’re holding on to the history.”

She’d moved her chair back from the table and slowly crossed her legs. Troy stood to her right, giving him a bird’s-eye view of her suggestive movements.

He didn’t disappoint as he leisurely took in the line of her legs. She worked hard on them, tried to run at least three miles, four times a week, so she knew they were fantastic. And wasn’t averse to using them to their full advantage.

“So how long have you been working for Philippidis?” he asked.

She raised her brows. “How long? Well, that’s a complicated question.”

He waited.

“You see, I don’t actually work directly for Manolis. He brought me on board especially for this project.”

She didn’t understand his grimace. “And you’ve known him for…how long?”

She rubbed the front of her shoe against the back of her opposite calf. “I’ve been familiar with him for, oh, about eight months or so. He helped my father out with our law firm in Portland.”

“He owns it,” he stated rather than asked.

“Yes. Manolis currently owns it. But my father’s hoping to buy it back at some point.”

“I’d tell him not to hold his breath.”

“Oh, the hostility.” She put her notebook into her briefcase. “I picked up on it during the meeting. What’s the history here?”

Troy scrubbed his hair back from his forehead. The telltale sign made him all the more attractive to her. “It doesn’t matter.”

He looked at her again, but she couldn’t tell if it was because he was interested, or if he’d rather she’d left.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

He gestured toward the table. “I don’t mean to cast a shadow on your qualifications, but—”

“But you’re casting a shadow.”

He didn’t blink.

Kendall slowly uncrossed her legs and got to her feet. She collected her briefcase and sauntered over to him. “Rest assured, Mr. Metaxas, I’m very, very good at what I do.”

“Troy. Please.”

She stood within breathing distance of him and she noticed the way he seemed to inhale her scent.

Hot. Definitely hot.

“As to why I, um, stayed behind after the meeting…” She allowed her gaze to skim over his tall, solid form. “Well, I won’t lie to you, Troy. Ever since we crossed paths this morning, before I knew who you were, I’ve been attracted to you.”

He cleared his throat, apparently not as unaffected by her presence as he’d like her to think. “I don’t mix business with pleasure, Miss Banks.”

“Kendall, please.” She smiled. “And I don’t mix business with pleasure, either. My business
is
my pleasure.” She slid her free hand inside the lapel of his suit jacket, running her fingertips along the expensive material, and the back of her knuckles against his tight abs through his broadcloth shirt.

He inhaled sharply.

“And I happen to think that we can be as successful in the bedroom as in the boardroom…”

T
HE WOMAN WAS DOWNRIGHT
distracting. And for the life of him, Troy couldn’t decipher whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Bad thing. Definitely a bad thing.

More than at any time in the past year, it was important for him to give his full attention to pulling this contract together. And thoughts of Kendall Banks’s long, long legs weren’t helping him do that.

To the contrary, they were inspiring him to think of a different business altogether. Monkey business.

“Would you like a cheese plate with dinner?”

“Huh?” Troy registered that he stood in the kitchen of the large Metaxas estate, and that Thekla Kalomiris, the housekeeper—who, along with her husband of thirty-five years, Frixos, took care of ev
erything at the house and surrounding property—was talking to him.

He looked down at the cold beer bottle in his hand, barely remembering taking it out of the refrigerator.

“A cheese plate,” the Cypriot turned American citizen repeated. “Would you like one to go along with dinner tonight?”

He squinted at her.

“Roast lamb.”

“Ah. No. No, I don’t think that’s necessary, Miss Thekla. Thank you.”

He wandered into the connected dining room, looking out the French doors at the expansive deck that offered one of the most stunning views in Washington State.

“Long day,” Ari commented, coming to stand next to him.

“No longer than any other.”

“Come on. Even you have to be stressed after that meeting earlier.”

Ari turned toward the large table that could easily seat eighteen but was set for six tonight.

“Actually, I’m relieved.”

“Bullshit.”

This from another meeting attendee, Caleb Payne, who, in addition to being Philippidis’s ex-employee, was also dating Troy and Ari’s younger cousin Bryna, thus explaining his presence at a family dinner.

Caleb poured a finger of whiskey into a cut crystal glass and then took a long pull. “That despot is up to something. I know it.”

Troy held his gaze. “Well, if anyone would be familiar with the way Philippidis operates, it’s you, Caleb.” He raised his beer to him. “That’s why I like having you on this side of the table. If you spot anything unusual, speak up.”

“Oh, trust me,” Bryna said, taking the glass from Caleb’s hand and downing the remainder of the contents. “He will. I swear, it’s all he talks about lately. Nonstop. Even in bed.”

“Oh, TMI,” Ari said, raising his hand.

“I concur,” Troy agreed.

Bryna smiled widely, apparently having gotten in her daily jab that made the brothers cringe at how quickly she was growing up. More than a cousin, she was like their younger sister considering she’d been raised by their father after her parents died when she was twelve.

“What does TMI mean?” the elder Metaxas asked as he entered.

The four looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

“Never mind, Dad,” Ari said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table for him. “Just another acronym that will be passé before you have a chance to commit it to memory.”

Percy Metaxas grimaced as he sat down. “Damn kids. Always reinventing the wheel.”

“Not reinventing, exactly,” Bryna said, taking the seat to his left. “Just adding a little oil every now and again.” She briefly squeezed his hand. “I’m sure you got great use out of your own oil can when you were our age.”

Percy’s grin was large. “Nothing that I can repeat in polite company.”

Troy considered his half-empty beer bottle and placed it on the bar. “Since when are any of us considered polite?”

Percy looked around the table. “Isn’t there someone missing?” Finally his gaze settled on Ari. “Where’s Elena?”

Troy tried to hide his frown as he took the seat to his father’s right. Would there ever come a time when he’d hear her name and not instantly remember what had happened six months ago?

He could only hope that his renewed business dealings with Philippidis would provide him that relief. Because it wasn’t doing him or his brother any good to continue to hold on to past grievances.

“She’ll, um, be here in a minute,” Ari said, taking a seat two up from Troy, leaving the one between them for his fiancée.

As if on cue, the woman in question hurried into the room. “Ari’s too much of a gentleman to share that I can’t seem to hold my liquor anymore.” She ran
her elegant fingers over her swollen belly. “Sometimes it seems her favorite place is resting against my bladder.”

“His,” Ari said. “And what do you mean liquor?”

“She didn’t mean literally, cousin,” Bryna said, shooting him an eye roll. “Elena probably hasn’t tasted a drop of alcohol since she got pregnant. She loves that baby even more than she loves you, I think.”

Ari looked panicked where he held out a chair for Elena.

She laughed. “Impossible. I might be able to love our child as much as…but I could never love her more,” she said.

Ari appeared instantly relieved. “Him. You could never love him more.”

“Why don’t you two just find out the gender and be done with it?” Percy asked. “It was cute for the first five minutes, but it’s starting to irritate even me now.” His smile softened his words. “Besides, I’d like to know which sex my first grandchild is.”

“Sorry, Dad. You’re just going to have to wait like the rest of us,” Ari said.

Troy sat back, silently watching them interact. The roast leg of lamb was offered up with potatoes, with Bryna helping Miss Thekla serve. The cook refused to join them when they invited her to sit, as she did every time the invitation was extended. They all knew she preferred to take her meals
with her husband in their suite of rooms just off the kitchen.

Everyone conversed easily, with Bryna touching Caleb’s sleeve every now and again, and Ari talking to the baby growing in Elena’s belly. The elder Metaxas seemed to enjoy dinner in a way that he hadn’t done since Troy’s mother had passed away. The more people that were added to the table, the happier he seemed to grow. And that afforded Troy a measure of relief that no number of successful business deals ever could.

For a time, he and Ari had been concerned that they hadn’t lost just one parent, but both, with Percy sinking into some sort of listless funk which none of them seemed capable of helping him out of. His interest in the family business waned, interaction with his two sons was rare outside his occasionally showing up at the dinner table, and Troy had worried that his only wish was to join his wife in the great hereafter.

Then, just before Troy and Ari had traveled to Greece, Percy was diagnosed with prostate cancer…and he’d decided not to be treated for it.

Troy understood that it was a viable option. That his cancer was slow growing and wasn’t likely to be the cause of the end of his life. But it had created enough of a scare for his two sons and niece.

Then a pregnant Elena had accepted Ari’s marriage proposal and was spending more and more time
at the house. And Bryna had insisted that they accept Caleb even before he had crossed enemy lines.

And just like that, Percy Metaxas seemed to have found a new lease on life.

“You should have seen him,” Ari was saying, making Troy realize that he’d zoned out from the conversation. “His tongue was practically dragging on the floor.”

Troy narrowed his gaze, hoping his brother wasn’t talking about him.

“And then,” Bryna said, putting her hand on Caleb’s shoulder to pre-empt him from saying something first. “He completely forgot where he was. Ari had to remind him that there was a meeting he needed to conduct.”

Troy nearly choked on the lamb he was in the middle of swallowing.

Percy chuckled. “Troy? Our Troy? Impossible. No one is capable of throwing him off his game. Especially not a woman.”

“Oh, but this isn’t just any woman, Mr. Metaxas. This one—” Caleb’s words stopped as Bryna elbowed him in the ribs. He chuckled good-naturedly and put his arm around her, pulling her back against his front. “This one is tailor made for Troy.”

Ari chimed in, “Light to his dark, and just as tenacious.”

Tenacious? Troy wasn’t sure he’d use the word to describe Kendall Banks. He remembered the way
she’d brushed the back of her knuckles against his taut stomach and grinned. Well, okay. It wasn’t the only word he’d use to describe her.

He blinked to find everyone staring at him.

“What?” he fairly croaked.

A heartbeat later, the entire table erupted in laughter at his expense.

And he joined in.

K
ENDALL REASONED THAT
she probably should have gone home. It was nine-thirty on a Friday night and all was not well.

She sat in her room at the bed and breakfast, listening to the complete silence around her. Mrs. Foss, the owner, had long since disappeared to her own rooms downstairs, and it seemed the entire town had retired for the evening.

She supposed it would be a pretty good bet that the single pub on Main Street would have some business. But she couldn’t seem to generate any enthusiasm for a solo outing.

She squeezed lotion into her hand and rubbed it over her left leg, repeating the ritual with the other. She’d taken a shower and wore undies and a short pink robe her sister had gotten her last Christmas. She put the lotion bottle on the nightstand and sighed. She could always get dressed and drive home to Portland now. Spend the weekend doing the holiday shopping she still needed to see to. Lord knew
nothing was going on here. Meetings were suspended until Monday.

And it was becoming increasingly clear that yummy Troy Metaxas intended to honor his belief that you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure, no matter how overtly she flirted with him.

She flopped back onto the mattress, twirling the robe’s silky belt around her finger.

Okay, so she wasn’t used to such rejection. Not that she got every man she set her sights on, but having to face that man every day took its toll on a girl.

She should have gone home.

She pushed up off the bed, looked for her slippers, couldn’t find them, then stepped to the door, quietly cracking it open. Caleb Payne was also staying in the bed-and-breakfast in the room at the end of the hall, but she hadn’t seen him come back yet. And guessed he might not, seeing as he and Bryna Metaxas seemed to have something hot and heavy going on.

Otherwise, the place was quiet and empty.

Padding silently down the hall and then the stairs, she wondered where Mrs. Foss had stored the homemade apple pie she’d offered her a piece of earlier. Just a small slice, she told herself. Something decadent to make up for the other decadent somethings she might have had if Troy wasn’t so damn stubborn.

She knew he wanted her. Saw it in his eyes every time their gazes met. So why was he fighting so hard? Why didn’t he just give in and enjoy what she was offering up? A little no-strings sex never hurt anybody. In fact, it usually helped.

Kendall certainly could use some right about now.

A floorboard in the foyer creaked under her foot. She made a face and tried to be a little more careful, staying just to the side of the well-traveled paths of the old house in the hopes that she wouldn’t run into another old board determined to give away her intentions.

The fanlight above the oven was on in the kitchen. And right there on top of the stove sat what she was looking for, covered in plastic wrap.

Oh, yes. A piece of apple pie would definitely hit the spot right now.

She quietly got out a dish and served herself up a helping, wondering if there was any ice cream to be had with it. Bingo! She took a carton of French vanilla from the freezer, scooped some out and then put it away.

Mmm…

Nothing was so good as a forbidden treat indulged in when nobody was looking.

She began padding her way back to her room, licking her fork, when a shadow appeared at the doorway.

Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized who it was. And it wasn’t Caleb. Rather it was a treat better than homemade apple pie, even with ice cream.

Troy Metaxas…