Romancing the Tycoon

“Then how about a walk?” her handsome host offered. “Maybe that’ll work up your appetite for coffee and dessert.”

She managed a negligible nod as he moved around the table and pulled back her chair.

But it wasn’t until he took her hand and led her outside into the moonlight that she knew she was in serious trouble.

“I’ll bet you don’t have stars like this in Chicago,” he suggested as he peered up at the sky.

Amy started to answer, but the view took away her ability to speak as well as her breath. The black canvas of the night sky spread out endlessly before her. Stars glistened like diamonds splashed across its vast velvet surface.

Oh, yes, he would be right about that. Apparently there were a good many things down here in Texas that she didn’t have back home—would never have. Those sexy blue eyes locked with her hungry ones and awareness quivered across her heated skin like the greedy fingers of a skilled lover.

And that was precisely why she had to say good-night with no possibility of coffee or dessert.

She was far too sure that the dessert would be way more than she was prepared to accept.

Way, way more.

Romancing the Tycoon
Debra Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter One

Chicago…inside the Colby Agency

Amy Wells flipped to the next page of her Glamour magazine: “The Perfect Man…”

She lifted a skeptical eyebrow at the perfect-man assets listed by women between the ages of eighteen and thirty polled by the sassy magazine. Tall, broad-shouldered, well-muscled and sinfully handsome. That about summed it up, she mused. What guy who looked like that wouldn’t fit the profile?

One word…that’s all it took to send her mood back into a depressive state.

Profile. She wanted to do profiles…to work undercover. To be a Colby Agency investigator.

She sighed woefully. She’d given up on the fairy tale. She wasn’t going to find Mr. Right or Mr. Perfect. Though she was only twenty-five, she longed for a steady, satisfying relationship. It just wasn’t happening. And it wasn’t just her. Lots of her friends had the same problem. Where were all the good men?

They no longer existed, she had decided, and promptly she’d thrown herself into her job. If she couldn’t have a great sex life with the man of her dreams, she could at least have a great job. So far she’d managed to come a long way. She’d been hired by the Colby Agency, the most prestigious private investigations firm in the state, if not the country. She’d worked her way from receptionist to personal assistant. But she longed for more. She wanted to be a real agent, to track down the answers…the bad guys.

Another wistful sigh seeped past her lips as she stuffed the magazine back into her desk drawer. Break time was over. No more fantasizing for today. Time to get back to the real world.

Amy glanced forlornly at the stack of folders to be sorted and filed. Though she appreciated very much her latest promotion to personal assistant, it wasn’t enough. Mildred, Victoria Colby-Camp’s loyal secretary, was a great lady to work for, but Amy longed for so much more.

She’d read every single final report on every case the Colby Agency had taken on in the past three years. At first, she’d been content to serve as receptionist and merely watch with growing interest as the investigators the agency employed went about their intriguing business. To be honest, she’d been a little intimidated by the likes of Ian Michaels and Simon Ruhl. But then a new female investigator had been hired, Nicole Reed-Michaels. That had changed everything for Amy.

Though Amy had heard about the agency’s first female investigator, Katherine Robertson, who’d married the infamous secret agent Jack Raine, watching one in action was a whole other ball game. Nicole’s supreme intelligence and slick, super-agent demeanor had kindled an unquenchable passion in Amy to follow in her esteemed footsteps.

Amy wanted to be a Colby agent. She wanted a case of her own. One where she would uncover the identity of the bad guy. Where she would save the day and make Victoria proud.

She wanted to be one of the best.

If only she could somehow garner the boss’s attention in that light. She’d started taking self-defense classes about a year ago and was pretty good if she did say so herself. She’d also sharpened her observation skills by teaching herself to pay attention to even the smallest detail. She’d even signed up for a private investigator class at the local spy shop. She’d learned all kinds of interesting things there and just by listening around the office. It wasn’t as though she had dates lining up to fill her calendar.

What more could she do?

She was twenty-five! Time was running out. Before long her best years would be behind her and she wouldn’t have accomplished the one thing she wanted more than anything else: to be a Colby agent.

The magazine in her drawer nagged at her. Okay, so she still wanted to meet the right guy as well. But she realized now that her first priority was getting her career on track. She’d thought long and hard about it and had realized what could happen if she fell in love first. Certainly there was nothing wrong with falling in love. Even the venerable Colby agents fell in love on a regular basis, most of the time while on a case.

A dreamy smile slid across Amy’s face. Now that would just about make things perfect. Getting her career headed in the right direction while at the same time finding the perfect man. Instantly her heart rate picked up an extra beat.

But then, that probably wouldn’t happen. It just made her feel better to believe that her career kept her too busy to think about her social life. And hoping against hope that her career would kick in at the same time that she’d meet the man of her dreams was a nice fantasy.

Oh well, it kept the cynicism at bay.

The telephone on her desk buzzed, summoning her back to earth for a cold, hard reality check.

She was still a personal assistant. And finding the perfect man was about as likely as was stumbling onto the precise case that would finally get Victoria’s attention.

Waiting for hell to freeze over was a wiser bet.

“Amy Wells,” she said automatically, answering the telephone before it buzzed for the second time.

“The Hanover file?” Amy listened as Mildred confirmed the name of the file she needed. “Right away,” she said in answer to the request that it be brought to her office as soon as possible.

Pushing her troubling thoughts aside, Amy went off to the records room in search of the Hanover file. Her fantasy might never become a reality, but at least she could keep dreaming. There was no law against that or any statute of limitations. To hell with admitting defeat, she’d just keep reaching for the brass ring.

With that in mind, her imagination instantly conjured a shadowy image of the perfect man. One who was everything the magazine poll said he should be and more. A grin tugged at her lips as she opened the drawer labeled H and flipped through the folders. One who needed rescuing by a woman like her.

Amy Wells, Colby agent-in-training.

“GOOD MORNING, Edgar,” Victoria Colby-Camp said when her call was transferred to her impatient client. Edgar Winterborne had requested a rush on the background check of his prospective son-in-law, Texas oil tycoon John Robert Calhoun, IV.

“I hope you have good news for me, Victoria,” he said urgently. “There’s a lot riding on this deal.”

His one and only daughter’s future, Victoria silently filled in for him. Edgar Winterborne was about to pull off the merger of the century. Winterborne Industries of Illinois and Calhoun Oil of Texas were on the verge of becoming the Cal-Borne Alliance. The two families had been sworn enemies since before the Civil War. But the differences in the two went far deeper than North versus South, they were about money. The almighty dollar. Whoever had the most was in control.

And Edgar Winterborne’s somewhat spoiled daughter, as well as the Calhoun heir, were caught slap in the middle of it all.

“You can rest easy, Edgar,” Victoria told him. “John Calhoun is as clean as they come. His business dealings as well as his personal ones are as honest as they are impressive. If the man has a single skeleton in his closet, it’s not to be found.” That was one thing Victoria would stake her agency’s reputation on, thoroughness. The investigation into the Calhoun family had revealed many things: wealth, power and a strong hand in politics, but not one aspect leaned even remotely toward the negative. The Calhouns were a fine family, as were the Winterbornes. Victoria simply didn’t understand the motivation for the current no-holds-barred merger. Why couldn’t they just get along and do what had to be done within the business of refining oil without involving blood?

“This is very important to me,” Edgar interjected solemnly. “As much as I want this deal to happen, I want my daughter to be safe and happy.”

“I’m certain you do,” Victoria allowed for lack of anything else to say. Arranged marriages just weren’t heard of anymore. Certainly not in the United States of America. That either of the participants would be willing still amazed her. Then again, money could be a powerful motivator. She sincerely hoped it would prove to be about more than the money. Marriages fell apart everyday with partners who considered themselves to be in love. What hope could there be for a couple who hadn’t even met? She prayed they would work those details out before children were brought into the picture.

A child didn’t need that kind of uncertainty. Victoria knew that all too well. Children needed love, nurturing and support. Anything less left a permanent mark. She had been robbed of the opportunity to protect and nurture her own son. But he was back now and she intended to make up for every moment they had missed.

“I’ll be happy to have a copy of the report delivered to your home this afternoon,” she said, interrupting Edgar’s rambling about the price of crude and how it would take a strong American alliance to end this country’s dependence on foreign oil.

“That would be splendid. We’re planning on spending a few days down in Texas starting this evening,” he told her. “I’d like to take a look at that report before we leave.”

“I’ll have it delivered straight away then,” Victoria offered. “I’m sure Regina is looking forward to the trip.” Regina was Edgar’s daughter, the one whose life was about to change vastly. From all reports the young woman was quite a handful. She’d dropped out of three different colleges before completing her education. Her father had bailed her out of numerous financial scrapes and unsavory liaisons with ex-boyfriends. Victoria wasn’t certain for whom she felt the most sympathy, Regina Winterborne or John Calhoun, her prospective groom.

“I appreciate that, Victoria,” Edgar said. “I can always count on the Colby Agency.”

And that was the bottom line as far as Victoria was concerned. The Colby Agency always came through. “Thank you, Edgar. Have a pleasant trip to Texas.” With that the call ended and Victoria pressed the buzzer for Mildred. “Ask Amy to step into my office, please.”

“Will do,” Mildred returned pleasantly.

Victoria’s brow furrowed with worry as she waited for Amy’s arrival. Mildred had been her secretary since the Colby Agency’s inception. She did not want to lose her, but Victoria had a feeling that as Mildred’s relationship progressed with her current beau, Dr. Austin Ballard, that possibility became more and more likely. Dr. Ballard had already retired and turned his pharmaceuticals company over to his daughter Jennifer. His one desire now was to enjoy each day and to travel—with the new love in his life, Victoria feared selfishly. She considered asking Ethan Delaney, one of her top investigators, to talk to Jennifer. After all, she was his wife. He’d rescued both Jennifer and her father from the evil that had threatened them not so long ago. It was at Ethan and Jennifer’s wedding that Mildred had met Dr. Ballard. Maybe, Victoria reflected, she’d have a little chat with Ethan later today.

Just then Amy Wells entered the room, her smile bright, her expression eager. As always her appearance was professional yet very hip. She wore a pair of hip-hugger khakis and a slim-fitting navy sweater that just met the wide leather belt accentuating the low-riding slacks as well as her slender hips. Her long dark hair looked silky, the straight style quite youthful. But it was her brown eyes that shone above all else. Amy was bright and always, always polite.

Though Victoria considered Amy an asset to the agency, somehow she just couldn’t see her as Mildred’s replacement should that necessity arise. It wasn’t for lack of ability, Victoria knew. Amy’s heart just didn’t appear to be in the world of clerical duties. Though she always did an outstanding job, whether she was filing or interacting with the clientele, still, something was missing.

Inspiration, Victoria decided. Amy was not inspired by her work and that troubled Victoria. They would have to talk. Soon.

“How are you today, Amy?” she said, forcing away the lines of concern with a heartfelt smile.

“Fine, Victoria. How can I help you?”

Victoria studied her for one moment more before she relayed her needs. There was a hopefulness about her that gave Victoria pause. Maybe they should have that talk now. But, she remembered, Edgar Winterborne needed the report right away—in time to review it before leaving for Texas.

Her usual keen focus fractured, Victoria shuffled the pages of the report together and slid them into a large white envelope. After penning Edgar’s name and address on the front, she pressed the clasp into place and offered the closed envelope to Amy.

“Mr. Winterborne is waiting for this report. I’d like you to hand-carry it to his residence. Deliver it personally to him.”

Amy nodded. “Sure. Anything else?”

Again that hopeful flicker of something just beneath the surface. Concern drew a new line between Victoria’s eyebrows. “Is there something we need to discuss, Amy?” Despite the shortness of time, she simply couldn’t send her away without asking.

A mask of uncertainty instantly claimed the young woman’s features. “Everything’s fine, ma’am,” she said hesitantly. “Was there anything else you needed?”

Confident there was more, but, considering the shortness of time, willing to let it go, Victoria nodded. “That’s all.” She watched Amy hurry away. It was past time she got to the bottom of this. With the possibility of Mildred taking an extended leave or worse, Victoria couldn’t afford to have Amy unhappy. She was the only person at the agency who knew the many secrets of how Mildred accomplished her numerous and varied tasks. No way could Victoria risk losing them both, and she certainly couldn’t stand in the way of true love.

The blessing—or curse depending upon the way one looked at it—of true love without fail found her investigators one by one. No matter how they tried to evade it, it always homed in on its target. Case in point, Trevor Sloan. Now there had been a man who definitely was not looking for love—true or otherwise. But it had located him just the same.

Victoria exhaled a long sigh of defeat. Why fight it? It was inevitable. Sometimes she lost a valued employee, sometimes she gained one. It all evened out in the end, she supposed.

Besides, who was she to fight true love? It certainly had found her—twice in her life. Lucas Camp, her beloved husband, immediately came to mind, sending a stir of heat through her. Though James Colby, her first husband and father of her son, would always hold a special place in her heart, Lucas made her incredibly happy. If only all couples contemplating a future together could find what she and Lucas had discovered…true love firmly based on absolute trust.

The Wild Horse Ranch…near Runaway Bay, Texas

JOHN ROBERT CALHOUN, IV, sat astride his mount in the middle of a wide-open pasture and watched the beautiful horses graze. Shiny brown and black coats, a few dappled and mottled whites, all with perfect proportion and carriage. The Wild Horse Ranch was lucky to have such an awesome herd. He blinked and looked out over the endless sea of green pasture. But it wasn’t horses that made the Calhoun name the respected one it was. Nope. It was the thousands of acres of oil fields that lay beyond what the eye could see. It was the crude pumped every day from deep within the earth. Black gold. In Texas, oil equated to royalty.

“God Almighty,” John muttered. Did it really need to be this way?

“I understand your misgivings, John,” the solemn voice said from next to him.

Nathanial Beckman, Nate, had followed him out here. The man, his father’s closest confidant, wasn’t going to let go until he was sure John intended to do his father’s bidding once again. Nate had been with the family for forty years and, to John’s knowledge, he had never failed in any endeavor.

John lifted his hat and plowed a hand through his hair. “I don’t think you do.” He settled the Stetson back on his head and shook it slowly from side to side. “He’s asking too much this time.”

“John.” Nate moved his own mount a little closer, his tone more urgent now. “You have to know what a huge step this is, not just for Calhoun Oil but for the whole country.”

There he went again with the guilt trip. If Calhoun Oil and Winterborne Industries merged, the country’s dependence on foreign oil could be greatly reduced. Both companies stood to gain tremendously and, for the first time in three or four generations, the families would be united. Just what he needed, the weight of the country’s oil future as well as the family’s one opportunity to set the past to rights resting squarely on his shoulders. Was it his fault that more than a hundred years ago the two families had been torn apart by war and greed and that the rift hadn’t been fused to this day?

No it wasn’t.

But his father had slam-dunked him with that very burden.

“I know how big it is,” he growled, wishing like hell that Nate would find himself something to do while John thought over this whole mess. It wasn’t as if it would go away. He had to deal with it…but he needed time to come to terms with what his father wanted him to do.

Marriage.

He bit back a curse. It wasn’t that he wanted never to get married. He did. Eventually. But he’d scarcely turned thirty. Why did it have to be now? And to a woman he had never even met?

To seal the merger of a lifetime.

That’s what his father would say. The only way that the Winterbornes and the Calhouns would ever be reunited was with a marriage and the co-mingling of blood. In other words—kids. He not only had to marry this woman, he also had to have children with her—posthaste.

This time John did swear. Nate flinched but didn’t run away as John wished he would. Instead, he remained steadfastly by, waiting to plead his case once more if need be.

But John didn’t have to hear it again. He knew the deal.

Regina Winterborne, twenty-four, had been in more trouble than he could shake a stick at. She was attractive and she wore her highbrow upbringing like a badge of honor. In other words, she was a snob. One who spent a small fortune on designer clothes and who’d had more short-term relationships than even John had. And that was saying something.

Money aside, John had been blessed with an excellent blend of his mother’s beauty and his father’s rugged features; he knew he was good-looking. How could he not? Women flocked to him as though he was the latest motion picture heartthrob. Most of the time he didn’t mind. But occasionally he did. How the hell was he supposed to know the real thing when it came along? Would he really know when a woman cared about him simply for him rather than for his looks or his money? Probably not.

That was one thing he wouldn’t have to worry about anymore if he went through with his father’s “deal.” He would know that the union was about money and the question would be moot. But what kind of life was that? How would children fare with a mother and father who had only married to combine their companies? Not too well, he imagined.

But it wasn’t as if he had a lot of options. Though John had recently turned thirty, he had never once in his life disobeyed his father. Not a single time had he ever even considered going against his father’s wishes. And, the truth was, he wasn’t stupid. He fully understood how important this merger was, on a professional level as well as on several others.

It was the opportunity his father had hoped for, as had his own father and grandfather before him. Not once had they gotten this close. Now the road to reuniting the two most powerful oil companies in the nation lay directly in front of John. Turning away from it was out of the question.

“When will she be here?”

“I’m leaving in half an hour to personally escort the Winterbornes to Texas. We should arrive by five this evening,” Nate said proudly. “A quiet dinner at the house has been arranged. Some free time will be available for you and Miss Winterborne since your fathers will be attending the poker game in Runaway Bay later tonight.”

The poker game. Not a Friday night had passed in John’s lifetime that his father hadn’t attended the poker game in Runaway Bay. No less than half a dozen players, all oil barons, showed up for the game each week. John wondered vaguely how the good old boys from Texas would tolerate a Yankee in their midst. A grin tugged at his lips. Maybe this weekend would be worth the trouble after all.

And that easily the decision was made. John would not stand in the way of progress. Nor would he be responsible for another hundred years of antagonism between his family and the Winterbornes. Nope. If a wedding was what it took to pull off this coup, then he’d suit up for the challenge. He wasn’t a quitter, and he damn sure never shirked his duty. As the one and only heir of the Calhoun name, he was it. There was no one else to do what had to be done, and another heir was necessary to carry on the family business.

But about one thing he would have his way. The woman who was to be his wife would be his wife. His alone. There would be no illicit lovers on the side, no trysts…no cheating whatsoever. It would be the real thing. In and out of bed.

He blew out a mighty breath. “All right, Nate. Let’s make this thing happen.”

John turned away from the beauty of the horses and the lush pasture and set his sights on something far less attractive—coming to terms with his impending marriage.

Back in Chicago…

AMY MANEUVERED her ancient but reliable car through Chicago’s Friday-afternoon traffic more quickly than she’d anticipated and headed to the country estate of Edgar Winterborne. She relaxed her tense shoulders and settled in for the drive once on the open road. All she had to do was deliver this report. She glanced at the white envelope lying on the seat next to her. Then she could call it a day. Mildred had told her not to worry about coming back to the office. Amy could start her Fourth of July weekend early.

She heaved a discontented sigh. Why hadn’t she answered Victoria’s question truthfully? How was she ever going to work up the nerve to say what she really wanted? It was so simple. It wasn’t as though the possibility of her becoming a full-fledged investigator was beyond the scope of comprehension. She knew she could do it.

All she had to do was prove it somehow.

But there was nothing she could do about it today. It was Friday and Monday was a holiday. She might as well put it out of her mind and enjoy the long weekend. Maybe between now and Tuesday some sort of epiphany would hit and she would know just what to do. Or maybe some handsome stranger would move into the empty apartment across the hall and invite her to help him settle in.

Yeah, right.

The envelope Victoria had given her snagged her attention once more. She looked at her watch. The trip to the Winterbornes would take at least another hour, she might as well make a fuel stop. Then she’d have a chance to take a look at that report. Why not? She read all the Colby Agency reports. No one had told her she couldn’t.

Banishing the guilt factor to the farthest corner of her mind, she pulled into the lot of the next gas station and parked near the pump. Once the nozzle was in place and the gasoline filling her tank, she climbed back into her car and opened the clasp on the envelope containing the report.

John Robert Calhoun, IV. She surveyed the picture of the Texas cowboy and her mind immediately dredged up the list the glamour magazine poll had compiled. Tall. Mm-hmm. Broad-shouldered. Yep. Well-muscled. She studied the pictures that had been taken without the subject’s knowledge. He sat astride a horse and was, apparently, rounding up a herd of horses. Holy-moly—he was gorgeous. A little shiver went through her, awakening a long-slumbering libido. Now there was a real man.

She remembered hearing Victoria tell Mildred that his ranch was called the Wild Horse because he took in the wild animals from all around the country to keep poachers from harming them. A hero. Hmmm. Compassionate and definitely well-muscled, she decided after studying his image awhile longer. And sinfully handsome without a question. His blond hair and blue eyes contrasted sharply with his deeply tanned skin.

He looked like the kind of cowboy who could make any woman swoon. The perfect man. Oh, yeah. Amy sighed wistfully. Lucky Regina Winterborne. He was all hers.

She shook her head and shoved the report back into the envelope. What did she care about hard-bodied cowboys anyway? Focus. She had to stay focused. Right now she had one thing on her mind and one thing only: becoming the next Colby Agency investigator.

Regrettably, she didn’t have time for anything else…even fantasizing about a rugged cowboy who was promised to another woman.