The Millionaire Meets His Match (11 page)

BOOK: The Millionaire Meets His Match
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“Almost.” She thumbed through the pages of her list. “Oh, I've got the company jet flying your mother and her three friends to the resort the morning of the gala, then they'll be back to take your brothers and their dates up in the afternoon.”

“Thanks for taking care of that.” He pulled her into his arms and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I'm glad we're going up two days early.”

“It'll take two days to get everything ready.”

“We won't be working the whole time,” Adam said. He'd already told her he wanted this time to be a mini-vacation just for the two of them. They could do whatever they wanted. If they were in the mood for some energetic physical activity, they could go cross-country skiing or ice-skating. Or they could just settle into the spa, get a couples massage, or while away the hours in the sauna or hot tub. He'd already scheduled a manicure and pedicure for her. He'd insisted that her every wish was his command, as long as she was pampered and fluffed and ready for him every night.

Trish doubted she would spend much time being pampered, but she couldn't help the tingles she felt when he described what he wanted to do to her.

She only had one more thing to do before they left the next day. She'd been putting it off forever, but the fact was, she needed a fabulous dress for the gala. Knowing there would be snow, she'd borrowed Deb's down coat and gloves again. But she still had to buy a dress. She planned to go shopping tonight after work, unless she could sneak off before that.

“That's it,” Adam said as he closed his briefcase. “I'm off to meet with the SyCom people.”

She handed him a thin folder. “Here are your notes for the meeting.”

“What would I do without you?” he asked, then pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Mmm, is it too late to cancel the SyCom meeting?” Trish smiled.
If only.
“You'd better go.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He grinned and gave her a snappy salute, then grabbed his briefcase and strolled out the office door.

Trish sighed as she stared at the mess on Adam's desk. She would deal with all that later. Right now, she would take advantage of Adam's absence and go find a dress.

 

Two hours later, Trish returned to the office, ready to get back to work. She'd bought the most beautiful dress she'd ever seen. Why that made her feel guilty, she wasn't willing to say out loud, but at least she'd found it on sale.

After taking care of all the work on her desk, she headed into Adam's office. Files were piled everywhere on his desk, papers were askew. There was spilled coffee and a half-eaten cinnamon scone still sitting there. How could he possibly work in all that mess and jumble?

She began straightening things, starting with piling
the many files onto the file cart. She tried to match the loose papers with the files they went with. Pens and paper clips went back in the drawer, the scone was tossed out and dirty coffee mugs were hustled down the hall to the kitchen dishwasher.

After his desk was cleaned to her satisfaction, she pulled the file cart out to the cabinets by her desk and began returning them to the drawers. It took her nearly an hour, but she had almost reached the bottom of the pile. She picked up the next file wallet and checked the name. It was one she hadn't heard of. Vista del Lago. Curious, she thumbed through the thin folders and pulled out a piece of correspondence to see what it was all about.

She got through the first short paragraph before she had to fumble for her desk chair to slide down and sit. She examined the attached notice addressed to residents of Vista del Lago, informing the tenants that they had thirty days to vacate before the building was to be demolished.

The internal company letter to Adam was marked “Personal and Confidential” and listed the reasons why the building should be torn down. It was close to the beach, so the property was worth millions. It was an eyesore with paint peeling and wood trim crumbling, so it would take too much work to restore it. The tenants were mostly senior citizens on fixed incomes, so raising the rent had proved problematic. Better to just evict the tenants and level the building.

Trish's hands shook as she read the details of the coldly impersonal Notice to Vacate, which gave the elderly tenants thirty days to pack up all their worldly belongings and find somewhere else to live.

The letter reported that the Vista del Lago site would
be the ideal place to build luxury condominiums that would garner an excellent return on the company's investment.

She didn't know how long she sat there staring into space. She was struck dumb, frozen, unsure what to do next. This was it, the perfect sordid information she'd been seeking ever since she first came to work for Adam.

Her mind bounced back and forth between pretending she'd never seen the letter and shouting its discovery to the rooftops.

Part of her insisted that the letter was none of her business. She should just shove the file back into the drawer and forget she ever saw it.

But how could she do that?

It was documentation, clear and stunning evidence that Adam's company was about to tear down yet another building—this one filled with defenseless, low-income senior citizens—in order to build something more pleasing to the corporate eye, something like high-priced luxury condominiums with a view of the ocean. Much better than the ugly low-rent senior housing that was currently occupying the space.

Trish's stomach was doing backflips and not in a happy way. The letter and accompanying notice weren't exactly a smoking gun, but they were just the sort of dirt the local newspapers would devour like hungry hounds. It might not destroy Adam Duke, but if the press framed the story correctly, it would definitely be a blow to his company's reputation and Adam's personal pride would probably take a serious hit. If the news coverage was good enough and the public outrage strong enough, it might even prevent the project from going through.

It was the perfect weapon. Trish knew it. But how in
the world could she use it against Adam when she was in love with him?

“No.” The word shuddered from deep in her throat as that realization sank in.

Trish rose from the chair and paced around her alcove. Feeling trapped, she went into Adam's office and walked to the window overlooking the coastline.

“Oh, no. Absolutely not.” She whipped around, stumbling blindly back and forth across Adam's office. She didn't know where to go, what to do, where to hide from the stunning realization that she was in love with Adam Duke.

Barely able to take another step, she collapsed onto the couch.

How could she be in love with him?

She let out a moan, then bent over and buried her head in her hands. It couldn't be. Please, not Adam. Despite his good qualities, despite the fact that he was her lover, he was still the man responsible for forcing her small family and her beloved neighbors out of their homes. He was the man who'd destroyed the beautiful historic building where she and her grandmother had lived and worked their entire lives. He was the man who'd replaced that lovely, venerable Victorian building with an ugly, soulless concrete block-long parking structure.

He was the same man who would do it all over again to the residents of Vista del Lago, if Trish didn't stop him.

She sat up, glanced around. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation for his actions. Maybe he didn't know the whole story. But that was ridiculous. The evidence was sitting on his desk. He had to be familiar with the file.

It was staring her in the face. Adam Duke was about
to destroy the lives of yet another group of innocent people.

Sadness crept into Trish's heart as the inevitability of her situation settled over her. She had to do something. She had to take a stand.

No longer sure of her motives or her feelings, Trish scanned the Vista del Lago paperwork, transferred it onto a CD and slipped the disk into her purse.

Ten

T
hey descended the jet stairway onto the tarmac and Adam inhaled the cold, pine-scented mountain air. He could finally relax and spend these next two days with Trish, uninterrupted by the work that had consumed them over the last few weeks. He planned to keep her busy in bed when he wasn't otherwise pampering her.

She'd been quieter than usual during the plane ride but Adam chalked that up to her usual anxiety over flying.

“I'm so glad to be back,” she said softly, staring out at the mountains they had just flown over. Then she rubbed her arms. “Oh, but it's so cold.”

“It's going to snow.” He took hold of her hand and led her to the waiting limousine. “The driver will take us to the hotel, then come back for the bags.”

He bundled her into the limo and held her close. As the driver sped toward the resort, he considered
the woman sitting next to him. He was proud of the work she'd done and didn't mind admitting that she made him look good. She'd been thrown into the role of his personal assistant and she'd exceeded his wildest expectations. She was a hard worker and a good sport.

But more than that, she was sexy as hell and he couldn't get enough of her. He was amazed to realize that he hadn't grown tired of her, amazed that he still wanted her every day and night. He knew it couldn't last, knew that he would send her away eventually. He couldn't say when it would happen, but he knew it would. For now, though, he refused to question the fact that he wanted to be with her all the time.

He hoped that when the breakup finally happened, Trish would understand and not take it personally. He would be careful to make sure she knew that it wasn't her, it was him. Adam had vowed, long ago, never to become too involved with anyone. He didn't believe in forever, certainly didn't believe in love. He didn't trust it. After all, people might say they love you and promise to take care of you, but then they'd dump you off at a hospital entryway and never return. He ought to know. People lied.

After all the pain he'd seen growing up, first in the orphanage, then in all those miserable foster homes, he knew it was unavoidable that people grew to hate and hurt one another. He'd seen plenty of damage done and figured that for most relationships, it was just a matter of time.

Sally Duke had been different, he told himself. The exception to the rule.

But romantic love was doomed from the start. He wouldn't let that happen to him. And he wouldn't let it happen to Trish, either. He didn't want to hurt her
so he was determined to avoid anything that remotely resembled a serious relationship.

And Trish had “serious relationship” written all over her.

But for now, for the next two days, he was looking forward to spending time with her and making love with her. And what better place to do that than Fantasy Mountain?

After the elevator delivered them to the top floor, he followed her into the presidential suite and watched with amusement as she twirled around, trying to take in everything. The room was spectacular, if he did say so himself. And needless to say, much bigger than the one Trish had slept in last time.

The walls were constructed of blond wood logs polished to a high sheen, except for one entire wall that was covered in river rock and formed a wide fireplace and hearth. A forest-green suede couch and charming bentwood chairs and tables made up a cozy conversation area. The wide, rounded balcony stretched the length of the suite with doors leading out from both the living room and the bedroom. In the bathroom, a soaking tub was planted in front of windows that looked out at the snow-capped peak of Fantasy Mountain.

Trish walked into the master bedroom and saw another small fireplace facing the king-size bed, framed in willow branches. She turned and faced him. “I didn't think it was possible but this room is even more fantastic than the one from before.”

“That's because it's bigger,” Adam said with a grin.

“It's definitely bigger,” she said with a smile as she wandered back into the living room. “It's also different because we're seeing it in the daylight.”

Adam followed her, content to watch her enjoying
herself. She peeked through the gauze curtains, then pulled the cord to open them, filling the room with more light. “Oh, the view from here is beautiful.”

She turned to face him just as a shaft of sunlight bounced off her back, creating an aura of shimmering gold and bronze around her. It made him realize that she was the most stunning woman he'd ever seen.

“You're beautiful,” Adam said, unable to keep the thought to himself.

She beamed at him. “So are you.”

“First time anyone's ever said that to me.” He approached her slowly. “I hope you didn't make any plans for the morning.”

“Plans?”

“Yeah. Come here.” He yanked her against him and kissed her in a soul-searing meeting of mouths and tangling of tongues. Then, in one swift move he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, where he laid her down on the bed, then stood and began to unbutton his shirt.

Trish sat up to pull off her sweater, but Adam reached over to stop her. “I'll do that.”

“Hurry,” she said in a breathless whisper.

“Oh, yeah.” Her mouth was already swollen and wet from his kiss and so damn tempting that he had to taste her again. He knelt on the bed and swept down to devour her, his tongue plunging in and around hers. He felt himself grow even more rigid and had to force himself to control the need that was consuming him.

He reached for her sweater and pulled it up and over her head. The slinky black bra was a surprise and he grinned as he used his finger to trace the shape of her breast, then dipped beneath the lace to play with her firm nipple.

“Adam, now,” she demanded, then closed her eyes and raised her arms over her head. The movement caused her back to arch and her breasts to rise up. Adam swore under his breath and quickly unclipped her bra to reveal her soft, round breasts and tight nipples.

“Perfect,” he said, and bent to take first one, then the other into his mouth.

He moved quickly to whisk off her pants, then left a trail of wet kisses along her belly. He gazed down at the strip of black lace she wore and swore again.

“You're so damn hot,” he muttered. With one hand, he tugged at those skimpy lace panties and caused a tiny bit of friction against her soft folds. Hearing her whimper ignited his blood. He reached beneath the lace and touched her center, then dipped one finger into her. “So wet.”

Tearing the lacy material away, he replaced it with his mouth, first kissing, then licking and finally feasting on her.

Her incoherent gasps fueled his own internal fire. He ran his hands up and down her strong, sexy legs, then grabbed her shapely ankles and hitched them over his shoulders. And continued his relentless onslaught of her hot, moist center.

The sensation of bringing her to a shattering peak was almost too much for him to take. Desire, painful and urgent, ripped through him as he crawled his way back up to look at her.

“You are the sexiest, most perfect creation,” he said, unable to stop touching her.

“And you're wearing way too many clothes,” she whispered, and grabbed his belt buckle.

He laughed, stood and stripped, pulling a condom out of his back pocket and donning it.

He had a moment to register her rich, brown hair tumbled around her delicate features, and her long, lush naked body stretched out on the luxurious bedspread, before kneeling back on the bed between her legs.

Holding her gaze, he positioned himself, then entered her slowly and had to grit his teeth to keep from exploding from her heated tightness.

It was all he could do to keep the rhythm slow, to feel each stroke move deep inside her, so deep that he began to lose himself in her, lose all sense of everything but her beautiful eyes and her lush heat. As his movements gathered speed, he felt a bone-deep need resound within himself, but refused to question it.

Her legs gripped him high on his waist, opening her up and allowing him to thrust even deeper. Her breath grew short, her breasts flushed dark rose and Adam knew she was ready to climax.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he said, his concentration focused, his thrusts slowing, teasing, until he withdrew almost completely. She opened her eyes in alarm just as he plunged back into her so deeply he thought he might lose himself in her. He rushed to kiss her, to swallow her screams, to savor her mouth as he thrust again, then withdrew. Then again, and again. Her eyes flashed hot and dark and he turned relentless, driving into her, plunging, stroking, their bodies damp with sweat and heat, his need savage and unremitting.

He saw her eyes cloud over seconds before she shattered gloriously. He crushed her lips again, tasted her passion, her pleasure, her sweetness, and lost control. His body tightened almost beyond endurance as he emptied himself into her.

 

Two days later, the night of the gala was picture-perfect in every way. It had snowed that afternoon,
turning Fantasy Mountain into a glittering white winter wonderland.

Adam and Trish had reluctantly slipped back into work mode several hours earlier. Now Adam stood at the top of the wide main stairway leading into the hotel and greeted each guest personally. Wealthy investors and their families, old friends, a number of celebrities, even a few of his competitors, were all arriving to enjoy the opening weekend festivities. Adam's brothers and their top executives were already inside working the crowd.

The paparazzi swarmed outside, their flashbulbs and strobe lights turning the evening sky to daylight. Television interviewers were lined up along the red carpet that swept the entire length of the long carriage drive entrance. Heat lamps were posted at intervals to keep the arriving guests from feeling too much of the chilly night air.

From where he was standing, Adam could observe Trish with her walkie-talkie and her clipboard, coordinating limousine arrivals and valet service. She wore her jeans and boots and a down jacket as she worked the lines, running from one end to the other. She would stop to give an encouraging word to one of his staff, then laugh at a photographer's joke. She had a knack for making them all feel as though she were one of them while still giving orders and keeping everything on a tight schedule. She radiated confidence and warmth and it was obvious that everyone working the event had fallen in love with her. Everyone.

Hell. Scowling, he ran a finger in between his collar and his neck. Why was it suddenly so damn hot?

Sally strolled up to him and put her arm around his
waist. “Darling, everything is simply fabulous. The hotel is magnificent.”

“Thanks,” he said, giving her shoulders a quick squeeze. “You look beautiful.”

His mother wore a high-collared white satin tuxedo shirt with a black taffeta skirt and cummerbund—not that Adam would know taffeta if it walked up and bit him, but she'd described the dress in excruciating detail on the phone earlier in the week. Her hair was all scooped up in some kind of fancy French braided style, no doubt to show off her shiny, dangly earrings.

Sally beamed. “Thank you. Isn't it about time you got things started?”

“Twenty more minutes,” Adam murmured, checking his wristwatch to be sure. He waved to catch the valet captain's eye, then tapped his watch and pointed to Trish. They'd worked out the signal ahead of time. Sure enough, within seconds, Trish came running.

“I'll make it on time,” she said, bounding up the stairway and heading straight for the hotel door. On impulse, Adam stepped into her path and grabbed her in his arms. He swung her around, then kissed her and set her back down, breathless.

“You've got fifteen minutes to dress and get back down here,” he said.

“You're not helping,” she said, smacking his arm. Then her eyes widened. “Is this your mother?”

“Yes,” he said, turning. “Mom, this is Trish.”

“We've spoken on the phone,” Sally said, shaking Trish's hand. “It's so nice to meet you in person.”

“It's nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Duke.”

“Oh, call me Sally, dear. Everybody does.”

“Thank you,” Trish said, smiling. “You look so beautiful.”

“Oh, you're a sweet girl,” Sally said, patting her hair.

“Yes, she is,” Adam said. “Now get going.” He kissed Trish again and she laughed as he patted her behind to push her along.

“So, that's Trish,” his mother said a moment later.

“Yeah,” he said, baffled and annoyed over the sudden and very public display of affection he'd just shown the world.

“She's absolutely perfect,” she murmured.

His mother's tone had him eyeing her suspiciously. “What's that supposed to mean?”

She held up both hands innocently. “I'm just saying she's a perfectly lovely girl. And Marjorie tells me she's a hard worker.”

His eyes narrowed. “What else does Marjorie tell you?”

“Oh, Adam,” she said, with a soft chuckle. “If you only knew.”

“Mother.”

“Don't frown dear, you'll scare the guests.”

He shook his head, then he held out his arm for her to hold. “How about if I escort you inside?”

“I'd be delighted.”

With his mother by his side playing hostess, Adam worked the grand ballroom for the next twenty minutes. His guests raved about the rustically elegant resort and its beautifully designed ballroom and conference space. They gushed over the guest baskets placed in every room. Trish and the guest-services coordinator had selected the items to be included in the baskets and Adam had approved. Champagne, fresh fruit, cheeses and snacks, free spa treatments along with items from
the hotel's exclusive line of hair and skin-care products, and a plush Fantasy Mountain bathrobe and towel.

Adam thought about his mother's earlier reaction to Trish. His suspicions were raised anew and he realized he would have to put an end to his affair with Trish as soon as he and Trish got back to town. The gala would be over and his life could get back to normal. He supposed he would miss her once in a while, especially around the office, but that's the way it had to be.

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