The Billionaire's Demands (A Boardrooms and Billionaires Series Book) (Entangled Indulgence) (14 page)

They were quickly assimilated into a conversation circle, Camryn’s comment that his team all wanted a piece of his attention more than evident. He watched how easily she fit into the conversation, sharing thoughts, listening as others shared theirs.

She was the perfect partner, both in and out of bed.

The realization of where his thoughts headed smacked him in the head like a ton of bricks. While he knew his thoughts about Camryn had grown increasingly more insistent, thinking of her along those lines—
permanent
lines—was a heady surprise.

And one that felt 100 percent right.

His gaze drifted toward her as he allowed thoughts of a shared future to take root in his mind. She’d been pulled into a nearby conversation and he took the moment to observe how others responded to her. Whatever she’d battled in her past was nowhere in evidence as he watched a vibrant woman hold court with her admirers.

The content of her speech was still at the forefront of people’s minds, evidenced by the questions he heard floating toward him. She answered each and every one, asking questions of her own in kind. She also listened when others spoke, giving them her full attention. And she had a tremendous ability to disagree with an idea without disagreeing with the person.

People were comfortable in her presence and because of that they gravitated toward her.

“Careful, my boy. You don’t want it getting out that you’re smitten now, do you?”

Booth turned to stare at his father, unwilling to give an inch on the subject of his personal life. West had a tumbler of bourbon in his hand and a gleam in his eye and Booth knew his ability to avoid talking about Camryn was likely a pipe dream.

“Now why would that happen?” Booth took a sip of his scotch and gave West his full attention.

“They’ve got eyes, Booth. Everyone here does. And no one’s missed how yours have been trained for two days on Camryn.”

“She’s a beautiful woman. I’m certainly not the only man who’s looked at her more than once.”

“I’d say it’s the intensity of your interest that really gives you away. Be careful, son. Intense attraction can make a man distracted. You’ve got some important deals going down, namely the big one with your brother.”

“I’m well aware of my responsibilities.”

Booth found it odd his father thought it was not only his right to pry, but also his duty to offer advice the man hadn’t followed in his own life. Between a failed marriage with Booth’s own mother, an affair with Nathan’s mother, and a rather acerbic relationship with his second wife, West was hardly the model of personal restraint.

West shrugged, the motion philosophical. “On the other hand, her family’s been good to your brother. No reason to think it couldn’t be equally good to you.”

Booth kept a tight rein on his temper, but even he wasn’t immune to the curiosity that welled up at his father’s words. “While I’m not even sure why we’re having this conversation, would you care to explain that remark?”

“Nathan’s business has doubled since he hooked up with the McBrides. No reason to think yours—ours—wouldn’t do the same if you and Camryn got together.”

“Why would that matter?”

“Common assets. Common goals. It’s a perfect match.”

Although Booth’s thoughts had run to just how perfectly matched he and Camryn were mere moments before, even he couldn’t believe his father had leaped to such an odd place. What the hell was this? The 1850s when people were still arranging marriages to build their prosperity?

“Since I’m hardly looking for an arranged marriage, there’s nothing perfect about it.”

“But you are looking at her.” West nodded his head one last time in Camryn’s direction before he moved on to another conversation. “Think about what I said.”

Booth proceeded to do just that.

…

Camryn did her best to avoid staring too long or too often at Booth, but it was hard to feign a lack of interest when his father joined him for a conversation. Even harder, she mused, when it was clear by their subtle glances that she was the object of that conversation.

The stormy look that had ridden Booth’s features—and still did—offered up another clue that West was likely up to his antics again. He’d been less than supportive of her sister’s marriage to his son, although his recent efforts, such as their family dinner, suggested the winds were changing on that front. Regardless, she didn’t need the man speculating about her and certainly not about a relationship—no, a fling, she corrected herself—she was still trying to get a handle on.

“You’ve been turning amazing profits at McBride. Mind sharing some of your trade secrets?”

Camryn refocused on her conversation partner, a woman who managed the financial projections for the advertising sales team at the
FJ
. “You give me far too much credit, Ann. It’s less a trade secret and more giving the editorial team what they need to put out a good product, which you have in spades with the paper and all its multimedia formats. When you have that, advertising revenue follows quickly.”

“We’re not seeing nearly the same bumps you are.”

“That’s surprising. I assume you’ve negotiated down your printing and shipping costs?” At the woman’s nod, Camryn tried to take a stab at another possibility. “Is it because your audience is a business target instead of a consumer target? I know our business publications run on tighter margins, just due to the number of advertisers who make sense for those environments.”

“I don’t know.” The woman shook her head and Camryn sensed real challenges underlying her words. “It’s like we should be doing better but every time I look at where I’m forecasting versus my actual revenue I come up short.”

“Do you think your sales teams are sweetening the deals too much? I know there’s a temptation to close the deal at any cost, but when you’re the one looking at the costs it’s not that clear-cut.”

The woman shook her head once. “Not that I can tell, but I’ve got it on my list of things to discuss during our break-out sessions this week.”

“Well, good luck with it.”

Camryn knew the frustration when you were trying to make every penny count—and forward progress seemed like it was taking forever—but she still couldn’t shake the same strange feeling that had gripped her about Jeff’s ad problem earlier.

How was the
FJ
managing its books?

Her glance drifted once more to West Harrison as he strode around the room, glad-handing all the way, and she couldn’t dismiss the very real feeling the man was up to something.

Was it possible Booth was involved as well?

He managed the
FJ
, so it would stand to reason he had a good handle on the profits and loss. As group publisher and CEO, Keira was well-versed in the details of all McBride Media’s financial transactions and profit-and-loss statements. Camryn knew she was trusted to manage McBride’s financial processes, but at the end of the day, her sister needed to understand how profitable the business was in order to run it.

Wouldn’t Booth be the very same?

A waiter passed her with a tray of full wineglasses and she took a chardonnay. Light glinted off the rich, buttery yellow glow of the wine and Camryn stared down into her glass, contemplating the implications.

This was an incredibly lavish trip. The food and drink had flowed freely and, by all expectations, would all week. The sheer cost to fly a staff of people out to Hawaii was extraordinary. Was there something else going on?

She walked the perimeter of the room on her way to a seat at the bar. Maybe it was time to talk to a few more people and see if she could get a better sense of what wasn’t being said.

…

Camryn scrolled through her computer screen once more and jotted another note on a legal pad. Her time in the bar hadn’t proven fruitful and she finally decided to assuage her curiosity another way.

As a subscriber of the
FJ
, she had access to all its editions online. With the meticulous eye for detail she was known for—or teased for when it came from Keira and Mayson—Camryn had made two columns on her legal pad: what major companies had been the subject of overly favorable editorial in the last three months, and did those same advertisers place ads in the
Financial Journal
.

Sadly, she’d found four matches and she’d only been at it for about an hour and a half and roughly a month’s worth of issues. Deciding to shift tactics, she did a search of the
FJ
’s archives for all stories relating to the companies on the list.

“And gotcha.”

Camryn clicked on the first article she came to—a report detailing quarterly results for a major financial organization—and saw glowing praise for the way the company managed its finances. While the journalist didn’t go overboard with praise, anyone who read the article would be left assuming this was a strong partner to invest with. Several other article links led to comparably favorable reporting.

Camryn shut down the web page and powered down her laptop. The news was curious, but as of yet she hadn’t found anything truly incriminating. Hell, she could likely find comparable circumstances with McBride’s advertisers.

Would she find the same? Whether by overt intention or simple coincidence, could someone possibly infer the same things about McBride’s editorial product as she was assuming about the
FJ
?

The urge to call Keira was strong, but a glance at the clock—11:00 p.m.—meant it was the middle of Keira’s day in Europe. Camryn opted for a quick text instead, then stood and stretched, working out the kinks in her back from sitting hunched over her computer.

The ding of her phone stopped her midstride and she glanced back, oddly hopeful her sister had sensed her need to talk through the miles. Instead, a broad smile broke out when she read the text.

How’d it go? I’m dying here for an update even though I already know you knocked ’em dead.

Sinclair.

An impish urge filled her and she tapped back a quick reply.
Totally bombed. Am laughingstock of New York ad community. And they all hated my dress. Tough crowd
.

The phone rang so fast she couldn’t believe the cell signal had already carried her text back to New York.

“That was fast.”

“You are such a liar!” Sinclair’s voice echoed through her ear, a few decibels above the screeching halt of the subway.

“Of course I am. I looked fabulous, thanks to you—”

“Thanks to yourself and those legs of yours.”

She smiled at his rigorous defense. “And the
FJ
’s staff was warm and receptive to the presentation.”

“I knew it! I absolutely knew it.”

“Speaking of what I don’t know, why aren’t you here?”

“I’m working on an upcoming event that came in last minute. We snagged an interview with several economic bigwigs when they’re all in New York next week and I’m juggling schedules like they were chain saws.”

“Is that why you’re up in the middle of the night?”

“Bingo.”

The camaraderie was easy and friendly and she had the momentary urge—no, madness, really—of asking Sinclair what he knew about the
FJ
’s editorial coverage before she stopped herself. Whatever instant rapport they’d developed would likely fall flat if she started questioning him about his employer.

If she had questions, she needed to ask Booth. He deserved to hear her suspicions and answer them for himself.

Even if it ruined whatever tenuous threads had begun to hold them together.

“Earth to Camryn.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I know it’s been a long day so I’m going to let you get back to paradise. I just had to call bullshit on your texts.”

“I’m so glad you did.”

There was a sudden quiet on the phone before Sinclair’s voice dropped, his tone serious. “You sure everything’s all right?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Okay. Well I’m holding you to lunch when you get back and I get these old cronies interviewed. I’ll get a full download then.”

“It’s a date.”

She hung up, the smile not quite fading, even in the face of what she suspected. Sinclair had become a true friend in a short period of time and she was grateful he was a part of her life.

Just like Booth. He’d become a part of her life in a short time, too.

Her smile dropped, the thought of what might happen after they got home giving her a good solid kick in the chest. Hell, she was the one who’d stressed the notion things were temporary.

So why was she suddenly rethinking that stance?

The soft knock at the door had butterflies leaping in her stomach in a crazy dance. Her gaze alighted on the legal pad where she’d scribbled notes and she quickly shoved it in her tote before crossing to open the door.

Booth
.

“Hey stranger.”

The suit he’d worn all day was still neat, but he’d eliminated the tie somewhere along the way. Golden skin peeped out through the opening at his collar and Camryn tamped down hard on the wash of lust that shot straight to her core. “Hey back. Did the party break up?”

One lone eyebrow rose over those vivid blue eyes. “What do you take my staff for? Amateurs? These are ad people. The party is still going strong and it finally veered into stupid.” Booth edged his way through the door. “Which meant
I
could finally make my escape.”

“You mean you don’t want to party until you’re stupid?”

“I’ve done my fair share of that over the years. It only ends in one thing.”

Camryn gestured him into the room. “What’s that?”

“Feeling stupid. And hungover. Neither of which I’m in the mood for.” He pushed the door closed with his foot as he shrugged out of his suit jacket, then drew her into his arms.