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Deception

Deception
Donna Hill

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This novel is dedicated in loving memory of my

grandmothers: Clotilda Braithwaite and Mary Hill.

You both are always with me.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Epilogue

Prologue

Oh what a tangled web we weave,

when first we practice to deceive.

—Sir Walter Scott, Marmion

(1808) stanza 17

“Just stay calm. Getting all worked up isn’t going to solve anything,” Terri muttered to her reflection as she partially wrapped her shoulder-length dreadlocks atop her head. Cool brown eyes stared back at her, revealing none of the turmoil that had precipitated her three-month leave of absence from her self-named corporation.

To look at thirty-year-old Terri Powers, no one would imagine what the past two years had done to her. Her New York–based public relations and advertising company had skyrocketed since its inception five years ago. With a minimal staff she had almost carried the company single-handedly. Because of that, she would always blame herself for the miscarriage of her baby. That trauma was compounded by the disintegration of her four-year marriage to photographer Alan Martin.

She took a breath and slipped long silver earrings into her lobes. The reality was, her marriage to the flamboyant Alan Martin was over long before the divorce. She’d just been unwilling to see it. She and Alan were a disaster waiting to happen. Even now she questioned her attraction to him. She’d been young, eager for love and eager to have someone love her back. She had been captivated by his charm, his vision and exuberance. His looks and his blatant sexuality only added to the total facade. So much so that she overlooked and made excuses for his flaws—which, she finally had to admit, were too numerous to mention. Her collapsed marriage she’d begun to deal with. The loss of her baby was something else entirely. A topic which she did not discuss with anyone. Losing her baby had resurrected too many painful memories, and her hopes for a family of her own had died with her child. Although her losses were more than a year behind her, the aftereffects had finally taken their toll and drained her spirit over the months. Pretending that everything was wonderful and right with the world took all that she had left, she thought sardonically.

It was to that end that she’d hired her vice president, Mark Andrews, at a time when her world seemed to be slipping beneath her feet. His résumé was outstanding. He was charming, had a razor-sharp mind, was exceedingly good-looking and had brilliant ideas for company growth. The fact that he vaguely struck some familiar chord within her only endeared him all the more to her.

Over time, she’d given Mark more and more responsibility as the events of her life and the pressures of the job slowly overwhelmed her. Terri finally realized that for her own good and the good of the company, she needed to take a break. Now it was time to go back and reclaim the reins.

Terri frowned as she lightly coated her bow-shaped lips with a soft orange lipstick. Mark had crossed the line and deliberately ignored her instructions. If it hadn’t been for her director of promotions, Stacy Williams, informing her of Mark’s activities, the whole deal would have gone down without her knowledge or consent.

As things stood now, her company was in the midst of negotiations with a man that she wouldn’t give the time of day. Clinton Steele. Everything that she’d ever read about the man set her teeth on edge. He was in the business of buying small African-American companies on the verge of collapse and turning them around for his own profit. From everything that she’d read, he paid the owners nothing near what the companies were worth. He called himself a businessman. Humph! She considered him nothing more than a predator—one whom she would have nothing to do with. To think that he wanted her company to run an ad campaign for him had her head spinning.

Terri strutted down the short foyer and slipped into her heels. Wouldn’t they be surprised to see her returning to work three weeks earlier than scheduled. She smiled. If Mark Andrews and Clinton Steele thought that they would be dealing with the Terri who was haunted by her past, they were wrong. This was Terri Powers—new and improved, rested and rejuvenated. And someone had a lot of answering to do.

Chapter 1

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

Sultry was the only word that stroked all of Clint’s senses when the distinctly feminine voice, coated with just a hint of a Caribbean accent, pervaded the low rumble of male conversation.

“Terri.” Her vice president, Mark Andrews, looked up and rose in greeting, as did his client Clinton Steele. “We were just going over Mr. Steele’s proposal,” Mark added, slipping back into his discarded charcoal-gray suit jacket, in an effort to camouflage his surprise at her unannounced return.

Terri stood in the doorway, taking the moment to assess the man who towered head and shoulders above the six-foot-tall Mark, and was in sharp contrast to Mark’s light cocoa complexion.

Clinton Steele’s reputation preceded him, and from all appearances he confirmed Terri’s image—from the expensive tailor-made suit to the formidable persona. But maybe it was those eyes. They seemed to have a way of mesmerizing you, she thought, feeling herself pulled into the bottomless inky pools that seemed to dance with dangerous lights. But then a flicker of something deeper flashed through those coal-black orbs. An involuntary shudder ran up her spine. Then just as quickly the look was gone and replaced with what Terri believed to be condescension.

She’d seen that look before. Most men were either intimidated or mystified by her ethnic appearance, as though she either withheld or could unlock some great ancestral secret. Her shoulders straightened as she walked into the room.

Clint was immediately taken aback by the quiet power Terri exuded. Her shoulder-length, glistening ebony dreadlocks were not what he perceived to be the coiffure of the cosmopolitan woman. Rather hers was the image of a woman awakened to their nubian ancestry and determined to flaunt it in the most exotic of displays. Her obvious sense of cultural pride intrigued, yet put him off, his own sense of roots having been buried beneath years of equal-opportunity rhetoric, stirring only periodically into the light.

The instant observation, combined with her cool appraisal of him, rubbed him the wrong way and nudged him off balance. His thick lashes lowered to shield his eyes, and his jaw involuntarily tightened.

Mark moved from around the table and stood between Terri and Clint, breaking through the tension-filled silence.

“Terri Powers, this is Clinton Steele, CEO of Hightower Enterprises.”

Clint stretched out his large hand and enveloped Terri’s petite one.

“Mr. Steele,” Terri responded with a slight incline of her head, observing his perfectly clipped nails.

For one crazy moment Clint wanted to say, “Your Majesty,” and he knew that if he opened his mouth, he’d say something equally ridiculous.

As a result he held her hand a moment longer than necessary, and Terri felt the tingling warmth spread through her fingers and glide up her arm. The sensation nearly caused her to snatch her hand away, but her inherent good manners interceded. Slowly she removed her hand, letting it fall casually to her side.

Terri raised her eyes to meet Clint’s, and he quickly discovered that they were a fascinating shade of brown that seemed to darken or brighten with the play of light from the window.

“I’ll leave the two of you to get acquainted,” Mark interjected into the torrid air. “I’ll be back shortly, and we can go over the details.” He quickly exited the office, leaving Terri and Clint to face each other.

“I understand that we have business to discuss,” Terri said, her low melodic voice again caressing him.

He watched her graceful movements as she moved to a leather chair at the head of the long oak conference table. Her sheath of golden linen barely shadowed the curves beneath, Clint realized with a twinge in his loins. He took a seat to Terri’s right.

“Mark has informed me that you’re interested in using our advertising services to promote your…new cable stations, Mr. Steele.” She folded her hands in front of her.

Did he detect a note of sarcasm in her voice or was it just his imagination? “That’s right.” He rubbed a hand across his bearded chin. “Your agency comes highly recommended from everyone here in New York. And from all that Mark has told me so far, I believe Powers Incorporated will do an excellent job.”

Clint leaned back in his seat and boldly surveyed her sculpted mahogany features, letting his eyes drift down her long neck to the tempting V in the front of her dress.

Terri felt a hot flush spread throughout her body from the intensity of Clint’s appraisal. But she would not let his daring looks distract her.

“I’m sure that Mark also told you that I’ve been out—” she swallowed back the memories “—away for the past three months?” She raised a naturally arched eyebrow in question.

Yes, and what happened to cause that haunted look in your eyes? “He mentioned it.”

Why did his voice seem to pump through her like an overactive pulse? “I’m sure what he didn’t tell you, Mr. Steele, is that I have very firm beliefs about who I do business with.”

The hairs on the back of Clint’s neck began to tingle. “Don’t we all?”

“In other words, Mr. Steele, I would appreciate it if you took your business elsewhere.”

Clint’s eyes creased into two dark slits. He leaned dangerously forward and the scent of his cologne raced to Terri’s brain, quickening her heartbeat.

His voice lowered to a deep rumble. “Let me get this straight. I’ve been working my butt off in negotiations with your partner—” he pointed an accusing finger at Terri “—and now you’re gonna tell me you don’t want my business?”

Pure unadulterated anger flared in his black eyes and hardened the velvet voice. “What in the hell is going on around here? Is this some kind of game?”

“Had I been here, Mr. Steele,” Terri answered calmly, not intimidated by the vehemence in his voice, “these talks would not have gone beyond the first phone call. Mr. Andrews is well aware of my policies. I’m sure that his…oversight was not intentional. However, my decision stands.”

Terri rose regally from her seat, and Clint had the overwhelming sensation of being dismissed like a common errand boy by this very self-centered, arrogant—

“I’m sorry,” Terri said gently, the soft sincerity of those two simple words mysteriously calming his fury. “I’m sure that this inexcusable situation has cost you a great deal of time and energy. I only wish that I could offer more than an apology.”

Why did even her refusal sound so pleasant to his ear? “Have you at least looked over the proposal?” Clint found himself inexplicably yearning for her approval. The revelation pissed him off, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I’m certain that it will be a great campaign.”

“I have looked it over. However, there’s—”

“Is it money? You don’t think it’s adequate?” Now she was annoyed. Why did they all think that money was the answer to everything? What about integrity?

“This has nothing to do with money,” Terri answered, forcing a steady calm into her voice. “It wouldn’t matter if your offer were ten times the amount. It’s you, Mr. Steele, that I have the problem with. You and your business practices. I cannot in good conscience allow this company to be associated with Hightower Enterprises.”

Clint felt as if all the wind had been kicked out of him. All of his work, his sacrifices, his dreams and accomplishments, came to a grinding halt with just those few callous words. Did she have any idea what he’d been through…did she…? Slowly he shook his head. Of course she didn’t. No one did. That was the way he’d wanted things. Now, for the first time, he was paying for that choice.

Clint rose from his seat, looking at her with a mixture of regret—that she’d fallen prey to the things that had been said about him—and disappointment. He’d begun to look forward to working with this tempting woman against all of his reservations.

Terri held her breath as Clint’s powerful body rose and spread before her. His dark blue suit fit the massive shoulders and long, muscular legs to exquisite perfection. She dared to steal a glance at the short wavy black hair that capped his proud head. For one dizzying moment she wondered what it would feel like to run her hands across it.

Had this been any other time…other circumstances…maybe… But she still had wounds to heal, emotions to mend, and unfortunately the darkly handsome Clinton Steele represented everything that she had grown to resent.

Terri extended her hand and the warmth of his grip shot through her again. Steadily her eyes held his.

“Perhaps my director of promotions, Stacy Williams, can give you some referrals, Mr. Steele. I could—”

“Believe me, you’ve done enough already.” He shook his head, looked at her from beneath silken lashes, a sheepish grin tipping his lips. “I mean, I’m sure that I can find another agency.”

Terri nodded her head and made a move to turn away. Clint’s intentionally intimate tone stopped her.

“Regardless of what you may think of me, Ms. Powers, I still feel that you’re the…that your agency is the best one for the job. If we can’t be business associates, at least let’s be friends. You can call me Clint.”

The radiance of his smile washed over her like morning sunshine. Her heart thumped.

“Thank you for the compliment. However, in reference to your last statement, I must apologize again. Our association ends here, Mr. Steele. Good day.”

She turned and walked from the office, leaving a fuming Clint and the heady scent of her kush body oil lingering behind.

Stepping out into the corridor, she forced her breathing to slow down to normal. What had happened to her in there? Taking a deep breath, she continued down the hallway, just as Mark left his office, to the conference room. Terri stopped short.

A feeling of disaster spread through Mark. “How did it go? I think this is one great deal, Terri,” he said a bit too enthusiastically.

Terri glared at him. “We’ll talk later. Right now I think you’d better soothe Mr. Steele’s ruffled feathers. There’s no deal, Mark. Understood? When you’re through, I’ll see you in my office.”

She turned on her heel, leaving Mark to throw daggers at her back. She’d screwed him. Dammit!

Quickly Mark made his way down the hallway and rushed into the room just as Clint was putting the last of his notes in his briefcase.

“Clint,” Mark began apologetically, spreading his hands in a plea. “I had no idea that she was going to react this way. I can assure you that everything was set,” he lied. Actually, he had no idea that she would return to work three weeks early. He’d planned to have this deal signed and sealed before she returned.

Clint threw him a glowering look over his shoulder.

“I just need some time to talk with her,” Mark added. “I’m sure I can get her to—”

Clint turned to Mark. “I don’t beg for anything, Andrews. Boss lady has her reasons—fine. The hell with her. You should have known better than to waste my time.”

“Listen, Clint,” Mark implored, grasping at straws, “Terri’s just being difficult. She’s probably on a hate-all-men campaign. She’s recently divorced, and she lost her baby. Today’s her first day…”

Mark’s voice droned on as Clint absorbed the implications of what was being said. My God, what she’d been through was enough to floor anyone. Yet she’d stood there resolute and determined, only once letting emotion seep through that picture-perfect demeanor. His defenses weakened. How could you not admire a woman like that? He felt that he understood her. He knew all too well about pain and loss. That part of him wanted to soothe away the hurt that still lingered behind those mysterious brown eyes.

The snap of Clint’s voice cut off Mark’s litany.

“Try to see if you can get Ms. Powers to change her mind, and keep me posted.”

Mark hid his surprise behind a wall of conversation. “I won’t disappoint you, Clint. This deal is important to me, too.” You just don’t know how much.

Mark’s calculating mind went into overdrive. He’d have to pull this off and soon, or… No. He refused to think about the possibilities.

“Will you be attending the reception tonight at Tavern on the Green for the producers?” Mark asked.

Clint picked up his briefcase. “I hadn’t planned to. Why?”

“Well, I’ll talk to Terri again. I’ll be escorting her tonight. Maybe she’ll be in a more receptive frame of mind,” he concluded, giving Clint a sly grin.

Clint pursed his lips, considering what Mark had said. He generally shied away from formal affairs, believing them to be frivolous. But if it gave him the chance to see Terri again, he’d make an exception.

“I never confirmed my invitation,” Clint said slowly, “but I don’t think it should be a problem.”

“Great. So I’ll see you tonight.”

Clint reluctantly shook Mark’s hand and strode purposefully from the conference room.

There was one thing that bugged Clint more than anything else—a brownnose. And Mark Andrews fit the bill, he thought, as he waited for the elevator. But there was something else about Mark that disturbed him. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. At least not yet. But he would. Maybe he’d just let Steve check him out.

Terri plopped down onto the overstuffed, cream-colored couch that stood against the far wall of her office. Waves of apprehension swept through her. She wasn’t sure if what she was feeling was the stress of first-day jitters or the eruption of buried feelings that Clinton Steele had inadvertently dug up.

Adrenaline pumped through her limbs, forcing her body into action. She sprang up from her seat and paced the floor, crossing and recrossing the earth-toned-print area rug covering the parquet floor. Absently she stroked the polished wooden artwork and the array of greenery that adorned strategic locations throughout the tropiclike office. Clinton Steel disturbed her. There was no other word for it. Without effort, he’d made her think and feel things that she’d promised herself she’d never fall prey to again. Her husband, Alan, had been enough.

Terri shut her eyes and wrapped her slender arms around her waist as if to ward off some unseen attacker, momentarily reliving the months of agony. The knocking on her office door jarred her back to the present.

She spun toward the door, blinking back the visions to focus on Mark standing in the doorway.

She cleared her throat. “Mark. Come in.” She took a seat behind her desk.

“I think you’re making a big mistake here, Terri,” Mark began as he crossed the room and sat down, handing her a stack of documents to be signed.

She gave them a cursory glance and turned her attention back to Mark. “You know perfectly well how I feel about Hightower Enterprises.”

“Your opinion is archaic!” he snapped. “You left me in charge, and I’ve been doing a damn good job of running things around here. At least give me the courtesy of believing that I know what I’m doing. Do you honestly think that you can get anywhere in this world being a Goody Two-shoes? Be for real, Terri.”

Slowly she rose from her seat, her anger shielded behind her veil of serenity.

“You seem to have forgotten that this company is where it is today because we have values—whether you believe them to be legitimate or not.” Her eyes locked onto him.

Mark heaved a sigh and ran a finger around his shirt collar. Alienating her was not the answer. “Listen,” he said, forcing calm into his voice, “at least think about it. Three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at. Maybe this one time we could make an exception.”

“I doubt it. But I will give the proposal the benefit of another look.”

Mark’s hopes lifted. “That’s all I ask.” He headed for the door, then paused. “Do you still want me to pick you up this evening?”

“What? Oh, I’d almost forgotten. Yes, thanks. Is eight o’clock good?”

“I’ll be there,” he said, opening the door.

Watching his hasty departure, Terri realized that something was very wrong.

The swish of Terri’s black satin-and-chiffon gown blended delicately with the soft music and laughter that wafted from the ballroom.

Mark, clad in an elegant-fitting tuxedo, dutifully took Terri’s elbow and escorted her down the carpeted corridor of Tavern on the Green. Stopping briefly to check Terri’s stole, there were many who gave them a second look as the two made their way down the hall.

Bowing his close-cropped curly head, Mark whispered in Terri’s diamond-studded ear, “Are you ready for your grand entrance?”

“No way,” she whispered back as they neared the open ballroom. “And don’t you dare leave me, Mark Andrews,” she threatened. “You know how self-conscious I get in crowds. You’re going to take your share of wet kisses and damp handshakes like a man,” she teased.

“Thanks, I can’t wait,” he answered drolly, rubbing his index finger across his mustache.

At the entrance Terri was awestruck and took a moment to absorb the magnificence of the glittering room. Crystal chandeliers, lit by hundreds of candles, gave the room a dramatic, effervescent shimmer. The round dinner tables were covered with gold linen tablecloths, and crystal goblets stood as the centerpieces. The enormous buffet table was laden with every delicacy imaginable, the aromas taunting the senses.

The main ballroom opened out onto two huge rooms that led to enclosed balconies, giving a sweeping view of New York City. Complementing it all was the array of designer gowns and tuxedos that moved with the wearers like a second skin.

Mark felt Terri momentarily stiffen as the patrons turned to look at them as they stood in the archway. He gave the hand that held his arm an encouraging pat.

“Are you ready?”

Terri gave a tiny nod. Taking deep breaths and putting on their best smiles, they made their entrance.

Within moments Terri was separated from Mark and swept up in a flurry of greetings. Between hugs, handshakes and rapid-fire conversation, Terri tried to peer over the sea of heads to locate Mark.

Finally she spotted him on the far side of the crowded ballroom, apparently in deep conversation with a striking-looking woman.

With her hopes of imminent rescue dashed, she continued to make conversation and field questions about her next endeavor.

“So, what’s next, Ms. Powers?” asked Gordon Burke of Columbia Studios.

“This current project with the McPhearson Group and the networks will take up a great deal of time and energy,” Terri confessed. “But I do have some proposals that have been submitted for our consideration.”

“Would you care to elaborate?” asked a reporter from the Times.

“I don’t think that would be fair to my prospective clients,” she said, flashing an indulgent smile. She knew when she was being put on the spot, and her standard response was always a sure out.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Mark was finally standing alone. Seeing a way out from the probing questions, she made her excuses.

“If you all will excuse me—” she lifted her chin in the direction of Mark “—I see my partner over there.” She made her getaway, breathing a sigh of relief.

Shaking a few hands and giving smiles of acknowledgment along the way, she eventually made it across the packed room, only to be greeted by a look of pure enjoyment from Mark.

“You think this is all very funny, don’t you?” Terri asked, twisting her full lips.

Mark smiled broadly. “Why, of course. Where else could a single man have the opportunity to be entertained by so many fabulous single women?”

“You are behaving yourself, aren’t you, Mark Andrews?” she warned with a sparkle in her nut-brown eyes.

“That all depends on what you mean by behaving.” He grinned and took a sip from his wineglass and wondered where Clint was.

Terri tapped Mark playfully on the arm while walking around him to the buffet table.

On the far side of the room, Clint made his entrance, accompanied by his vice president, Melissa Taylor. His six-foot-plus height cut an exquisite figure, bedecked in a black Armani tuxedo.

His arrival instantly caught Terri’s attention, and an inexplicable heat rushed through her body. Her eyes were drawn to him like a magnet, totally oblivious to the shimmering female form that stood at his side. Terri quickly looked away. When she furtively looked back in his direction, she was shocked, yet thrilled, to find that his eyes were locked on her, openly assessing her, even as his stunning companion clung possessively to his arm.

He gave an almost unnoticeable nod of acknowledgment in her direction.

Flustered by the intensity of his stare, she nodded back and silently prayed that she wouldn’t humiliate herself by dropping her food all over the thick carpet.

Holding on tightly to her plate, and with as much grace as she could summon, she walked across the room to her table, not daring to look back. Yet somehow she felt those warm eyes burning through her exposed back.

Clint had zeroed in on Terri almost immediately, and he couldn’t help but admire the way the black gown seemed to float over her slender body. Or how her deep brown skin glowed radiantly, tantalizing the viewer with teasing peeks of bare flesh as the dress flowed with her movements.

He had an almost uncontrollable desire to run his fingers through the locks of ebony hair that she’d wrapped magnificently on top of her head. Unconsciously he squeezed his companion’s arm to stifle the urge to touch her. There was no way that he could deny the instantaneous attraction he felt toward Terri. The powerful sensation unnerved him. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known. He’d always been attracted to women like his wife, Desiree. Women who were needy, women who… Desiree was dead, he reminded himself. And it was his fault.

“Is something wrong?” Melissa asked, sensing the change in Clint’s mood.

“No. Nothing’s wrong,” he answered offhandedly, as they moved into the center of the room.

Melissa cut her eyes across the room to where Clint’s gaze rested, then back to him in time to catch the look of longing in his eyes. “Why don’t we find a table and get something to eat? I’m starved,” Melissa said, a bit put off.

“You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you later. There are a few old friends that I want to speak with first.”

He gently eased her arm from his and crossed the floor, quickly engaging himself in a group discussion before she had a chance to protest.

For several moments Melissa stood alone, disappointed. Her hope of spending an elegant evening with Clint dissolved. But it was rare that she allowed her true feelings to show. And right now she needed something to soothe her injured ego. Putting on a practiced smile, she straightened her bare shoulders and began to do what was second nature—making men’s heads turn.

Terri made a valiant effort to focus on the food in front of her while keeping up with the conversations of the movie executives that flowed abundantly. But her mind kept wandering back to Clint. What was he doing here? She dared not ask her dining companions, knowing that her true interests would be obvious. Perhaps she would have a chance to find out before—

“Would you care to dance?”

The rich rumble of the voice seemed to shimmer down her spine and arrest her heart. Instinctively she knew it was him and was almost afraid to look up. But the large warm hand gently held her shoulder, and a surge of heat swam to her head, clouding her judgment.

She turned to look up at him and the most devastating smile assaulted her, causing her breath to catch in her throat.

Terri felt hypnotized by the intensity of his dark, heated gaze. She didn’t know whether or not she had even answered him before she was gently eased onto the dance floor. In a matter of seconds her body was pressed next to his as he artfully moved with the slow, pulsing music of the band.

The scent of his cologne enveloped her senses, and she felt an overwhelming urge to snuggle closer to the hard lines of his broad frame. Their bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, like pieces of a puzzle, each dip and curve matching the other, she mused. How long had it been since she’d been held in a man’s arms?

Why did she have to feel so good? Clint wondered, his mind running in circles as he held her slender waist in one hand. He wanted to pull her fully against him, but dared not. He was sure that his untimely arousal would be evident.

The music drew to a conclusion, but he continued to hold her, searching for something to say, not yet ready to let her go.

She looked inquisitively up at him, a tentative smile lighting her face.

Finally he found his voice. “Can I get you something from the bar?”

“A glass of tonic water with lime would be perfect.”

The melodic cadence of her voice floated to his ears. It almost didn’t matter what she said as long as she would continue talking.

He placed his hand on the small of her back and ushered her toward the bar. “Two tonic waters with lime,” he instructed the bartender, his eyes never leaving Terri’s face.

Clint handed her the glass. “So we meet again,” he stated, his eyes boring into hers.

“I wasn’t aware that you would be attending.”

“It was a last-minute decision.” He took a sip of his drink, and his voice dipped intimately. “You look fabulous.”

Terri lowered her eyes at the unabashed compliment.

“I hope there won’t be any acceptance speeches tonight,” he added, rescuing her from her apparent uneasiness.

“No,” she breathed, thankful for the change in topic, “not tonight. This is more of a who’s-who gathering than anything else, Mr. Steele.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “My friends call me Clint. I wish you would.”

“You seem to have a lot of those,” she commented.

He grinned slyly, his eyebrow lifting. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

A hot flush of embarrassment seared her cheeks.

“Don’t be uncomfortable,” he said smoothly, as though reading her mind. “I’ve been watching you, too.” His eyes trailed over her curvaceous form, and she felt her heart begin to race.

“So where is your escort—boyfriend…husband?” he probed in the hope that she would reveal or confirm what Mark had said.

Terri smiled, melting Clint’s heart. “Sorry, none of the above. I came with Mark, who seems to have vanished. What about you? I thought I saw you with someone earlier.”

He knew good and well that she saw him, but he was more than happy to play along. At least there were no stray boyfriends or husbands to contend with. “That was my business associate, Melissa Taylor, who seems to have made quite an impression on Mark.”

Terri followed Clint’s gaze across the room to see Mark and Melissa laughing intimately.

“Mark does have a way with women,” she stated, a wry smile tilting her lips.

“Let’s dance,” Clint suggested in a low, urgent voice, taking her hand before she could deny him.

“I catch a faint accent in your voice,” Clint whispered in her ear as they moved easily across the dance floor. “It’s absolutely delicious.”

Terri’s pulse fluttered. “Barbados,” she answered softly.

“Hmm,” he hummed into her hair. “Don’t ever lose it.”

The hours seemed to float away as Terri and Clint became enamored of each other’s company. They talked of the places that they had traveled, the current economy and its effects on business. But whenever Terri directed questions to Clint about his line of work, he was subtly evasive.

“Let’s not talk about work.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Not tonight. I’d rather hear about you.”

“There’s really not that much to tell,” she breathed as they walked side by side out to the balcony. “I came to the States when I was eight. I went to New York University and studied advertising and public relations. My business has been in existence for five years. That’s basically all there is.”

“I find that hard to believe. There has to be some life behind all of those facts and figures.” He smiled encouragingly at her.

Terri stiffened. “I suppose there is,” she said softly, “but I don’t care to discuss it.” She turned her head toward the skyline, wishing that the pain would somehow go away.

He raised a hand to touch her, wanting her to know that he’d be willing to listen, but he knew that she wouldn’t give in. At least not yet.

“I know we got off to a bad start this afternoon,” he began, pacing his words and her reaction. “I’d like the opportunity to change that.”

Terri turned to him, the haunted look in her eyes stunning him with its intensity. She absently ran her hands down the sides of her gown, and Clint’s insides went haywire with the motion. He forced himself to look at her eyes instead of those delicious hips.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“I mean,” he said, taking a step closer, “I want you to see the real me.”

“Why would that be important?”

“Because it’s important to me,” he stated simply.

Terri swallowed and placed her hand on the balcony railing. She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “What is it that you think I need to know?”

“That I’m not such a bad guy—and that I’m sure you’ve heard and read a lot of things about me that aren’t true.” He leaned against the railing, inching closer to her. “I’d like to correct that.”

“Is this account that important to you?”

“It has nothing to do with the account.”

“Your ego, perhaps?”

The implications riled him, but he remained unruffled, realizing the truth of her words. He chuckled and ran a hand across his beard in a sensuous motion that rushed through Terri in waves.

“You do have a lovely way of stepping on a person’s ego,” he answered lightly.

Terri lowered her long, sooty lashes and gave in to a grin that Clint wanted to kiss away. “Believe me, it’s not my intention.”

“That’s good to know.” He leaned closer. “Can we just forget about business for a minute?” Terri nodded.

“I’d like to get to know you—outside of the office.” His steady gaze held her, and she felt her pulse begin to pick up its pace.

“I’ve always been a man who speaks his mind,” he continued, his voice dropping to a soothing beat. “And you interest me.”

“In other words, you want to satisfy some curiosity?” she tossed back.

“Maybe.”

Terri jutted her chin forward. “I’m not a curiosity piece, Mr. Steele,” she said, emphasizing the word piece.

Clint took the barb in stride. “You also have a way of twisting my words around.”

Terri sighed. “What’s your point, Mr. Steele?”

“I’d like to take you to…lunch.”

Her heart thumped. “I don’t think…”

“Dinner?” He flashed her a taunting grin. “I’d love to prove you wrong,” he challenged.

Terri knew her fragile emotional state was not yet equipped to handle a relationship, especially not one with a man who effortlessly made her senses go crazy. Yet she couldn’t deny that she was just as interested. Maybe a night out was the medicine she needed after so many months of loneliness. And she was never one to back down from a challenge.

She looked boldly up at him. “How about tomorrow? I finish about seven.”

His voice stroked her. “I’ll meet you out front.”

“I’ll see you then. Good night, Mr. Steele.” She made a move to leave in search of Mark, when Clint’s captivating voice stopped her.

“It’s Clint,” he said, throwing her a heated look that turned her center into liquid fire.

Her voice wrapped around him in invitation. “I’ll try to remember that.”

Chapter 2

The following morning was filled with chaos. There were press releases to go out, writers to interview and an assortment of trivial things that taxed the brain.

Yet even in the midst of the confusion and harried schedule, Terri could not shake Clinton Steele from her thoughts.

How could a man whose unsavory reputation preceded him evoke in her such warm feelings of desire? Terri had found herself lying awake the previous night reliving his touch, the depth of his voice, the scent of him that had clung to her hours after she’d left the reception.

She just found it difficult to believe that a man who could be so warm, so charming, so sensual would have done the unethical things that had been associated with him. Could she have been wrong?

The ringing of the phone intruded on her thoughts. She snatched up the receiver from its cradle.

“Terri Powers,” she said, her mind snapping back to business.

“I thought I’d wait at least twenty-four hours before I called.”

She swore that her heart stopped beating. A rush of heat flooded her body.

“Who is this?” Her fingers gripped the receiver—knowing.

His tone was lightly teasing. “I guess I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous to think that you’d remember me.” He paused a heartbeat of a second. “It’s Mr. Ego.”

She leaned back in her seat, took a silent deep breath and smiled. “Mr. Steele. What can I do for you?”

“Ah, so you do remember.”

Terri laughed outright. “You’re not an easy man to forget.”

“Then I guess that means we’re still on for dinner.”

His voice gently caressed her, and she trembled as if she’d been stroked by fire and ice.

“Yes. Of course. Did you have anyplace special in mind?”

“Why don’t I surprise you?”

“All right. Just as long as it’s not a late night. I have a very heavy schedule on Saturday.”

“What might that be? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Well, if you must know—” she pretended to sound annoyed but she was proud of her work, and it came through in her voice “—I teach African dance to a group of kids in my building on Saturday morning.”

Clint was impressed. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Are your students any good?”

Laughter bubbled in her voice. “Let’s just say they have potential.”

“In that case, I promise to get you home early.”

“Then I’ll see you at seven.”

Terri gently hung up the phone and tried to suppress the exhilaration that had taken control of her body. Then reality struggled for the upper hand. What in the world was she doing? She’d been divorced for only a year, although her marriage had been over before then—and now she was considering another man. A man who she had serious concerns with regarding his principles. Was it too soon? Well, maybe tonight she could put her unsettling feelings to rest.

The cheerful greeting from her friend and employee wrestled her away from her musings.

“Girl, it’s good to have you back,” Stacy declared as she hurried over and gave Terri a warm hug. “You have definitely been missed,” she added in her North Carolinian drawl.

“Thanks.” Terri chuckled, returning the embrace. “I feel as though I’ve been away forever instead of three months.”

“It felt like forever.” Stacy groaned as she took a seat on the sofa and slid her shoulder-length blond hair behind her ear with the tip of her finger. “With mad Mark Andrews in charge, I thought I’d go stark ravin’ outta my mind.”

Terri smiled knowingly. “He can be a bit much at times, but he’s one of the best advertising men in the business. Unfortunately we don’t always see eye to eye.” A slight frown creased her otherwise smooth mahogany brow.

“I can tell by that look that you’re not too pleased with that deal he’s been working on with Hightower Enterprises,” Stacy said. “I just got wind of it myself when I got back from vacation. I knew you’d want to know, and I was pretty sure that Mark hadn’t breathed a word to you about it.” Her green eyes, fringed with long black lashes, widened in question. “Am I right?”

Terri slowly crossed the airy office and took a seat behind her desk, twirling one of her ebony locks between her slender fingers.

“That’s an understatement. Mark knew perfectly well how I felt about Hightower Enterprises and its head honcho, Clinton Steele, in particular.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“We met yesterday, and I initially told Steele to find another agency. However, I’m considering taking another look at the proposal. But there’s some investigating I want to do on my own about Mr. Steele before I make my final decision.” She paused a moment. “We’re having dinner tonight.”

Stacy looked at her quizzically. “Really? That’s not usually your style.”

Her eyes held a faraway look as she spoke. “Mr. Steele is a very unusual man.”

“Do you want me to tag along?”

“No. I’m sure I can handle it. I suppose I could use the stimulation of a good debate to get my thoughts back in focus.”

Stacy heard the emptiness that filled the usually rich voice that she had come to know so well. She spoke softly. “Terri…I know that the divorce and then losing the baby right on top of it has been hell. But, well, if you want to talk, you know I’m always here.”

Terri forced a weak smile. “I know. But it will be a while before I can talk about it.” She lowered her thick lashes. “I really just want to put it out of my mind, Stacy. At least I won’t have to run into my ex anytime soon,” she added cynically.

“I heard through the grapevine that Alan is in L.A.”

Terri nodded, the acute pain of betrayal seizing her. “I can only hope that he finds what he thinks I couldn’t give him.”

Her turbulent four-year marriage to Alan Martin ran through her brain in a kaleidoscope of images. Everyone said that they made such a beautiful-looking couple, but that opposites must certainly attract. Terri, with her exotic natural beauty, had a sense of purpose rooted in the age-old philosophy of family and work for the common good. While Alan, with his playboy good looks, lived for the fast life, the quick money and personal gratification.

It was a marriage almost doomed to fail, but Terri had loved Alan unselfishly almost to the point of losing a part of herself in the process. But after the first blush of passion began to fizzle, Terri saw how unalike they truly were.

Involuntarily her hand stroked across her empty stomach—a place that not long ago had been filled with budding life. Terri blamed herself for the breakup with Alan, feeling that she could not be the kind of woman that he wanted. She’d never allow herself to be that vulnerable to anyone again.

“Terri,” Stacy called softly.

Terri shook her head, dispelling the visions, and focused on Stacy.

“Are you all right?”

“Sure,” Terri answered absently. “I’m fine.” She took a shaky breath and put on her best smile. “Now, if I’m ever going to get back in gear, I’d better get busy with the contracts for McPhearson. We’re scheduled to meet in a few days.”

“I have the promotional campaign almost all mapped out. I’d like you to take a look at it before I put on the final touches,” Stacy said.

“You’ve done a great job on it so far. I can’t see how they won’t love it. If you’re not busy this evening, maybe you can drop it off at my apartment. I’ll go over it during the weekend.”

“I’ll try. If not, it’ll be ready for you on Monday. But do you think you’ll be up to it after a night on the town with Mr. Steele?” she teased.

Terri shook her head in amusement. “Very funny.” She pushed herself up from her seat and walked Stacy to the door.

“Thanks for caring, Stacy.” She gave her a warm look. “It means a lot.”

Stacy patted Terri’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Anytime.”

Terri flashed a fleeting smile as Stacy left the office.

“Mark,” Terri called.

He stopped and waited for her near the elevator.

“I’m going out to lunch. I was expecting a call from McPhearson’s secretary. She hasn’t called yet. If she calls while I’m out, I’ve told Andrea to pass the call to you.”

She slipped into her lightweight, copper-colored trench coat.

“Do you want me to set up the meeting time?”

“Yes. Just check my calendar. I think any day next week will be fine.”

“No problem. I’ll take care of it. Oh, by the way, these need your signature.” He angled his head to the pile of folders under his arm. “I’ll leave them in your office.”

“Have you reviewed them?”

“With a fine-tooth comb.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I really don’t have the time to go through all of them. I’m swamped.”

“I figured as much.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mark.” She started to walk away.

Mark gave a derisive laugh that stopped her. “You’d do just fine. You have so far, haven’t you?” he challenged, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

Terri frowned. The cynicism of the remark grated on her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“All it means is what I said. You’d…do…just…fine.” His jaw clenched.

“Is everything all right, Mark? You seem…”

“Listen.” He sighed. “I apologize.” He fingered the collar of his shirt and looked away. “I’m just a little tired—the pressure. That’s all.”

Terri noticed his nervous gesture. “Pressure never seemed to bother you before.”

“Well there’s a first time for everything,” he snapped, his expression growing hard. “Have you had a chance to go over the Hightower proposal again?” he asked, quickly shifting the direction of the conversation.

“I’ll get to them sometime next week,” Terri answered warily.

“Then I’ll check back by the middle of next week.” He turned to walk away. “Mark.”

He turned to face her, his eyes widening in question.

“We need to make some time to talk.”

“Really? About what?”

“About us.”

“Us?” He tossed his head back and laughed. “You flatter me. I didn’t know there was an us.”

Terri cocked her head to the side and placed her hand on her rounded hip. “You know perfectly well what I mean. You’ve been on edge ever since I’ve been back.”

“I think you’re overexaggerating, Terri.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I have work to do, and you have to do lunch.” He turned and strode down the corridor, leaving her completely bewildered by his behavior.

Mark returned to his office, his agitation barely held in check. He reached for the phone, tapping his fingers impatiently on the desktop as he waited. Finally the line was answered.

“Melissa Taylor,” said the low, controlled voice.

“Hi. This is Mark. I promised to call.”

“How are you, Mark?”

“Fine. But I’d be even better if you’d have dinner with me.”

Exiting the building, Terri turned left onto Lexington Avenue, ignoring the rush of lunch-goers as she strolled aimlessly down the busy street. Thoughts of her conversation with Mark unbalanced her usually light nature.

Something wasn’t right. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that Mark was jealous. Immediately she discarded the notion. She and Mark had worked side by side for nearly a year. She trusted him. She just couldn’t imagine—

“You look lost.”

She stopped short, a breath away from running into hard, muscular chest. Her heart thumped when she looked up into those eyes and down to the smile that spilled sunshine across her face.

“Clint…I mean…”

“You got it right the first time.” His eyes roamed slowly over her. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Her eyes briefly focused on her beige suede shoes, and her only wish at that moment was that the tiny crack in the sidewalk would open and swallow her.

“I was on my way to grab a bite and decided to take a stroll,” he said. “Are you out to lunch or just doing the window-shopping thing?”

Her eyes flashed at the last comment until she saw the laughter in his eyes. She couldn’t stop the smile that matched his.

“That’s better,” he said, his voice enveloping her like a cocoon. “I’m not into the shopping part, but could I interest you in something from—” he quickly scanned the busy avenue “—Original Ray’s?”

Her eyes followed his to the famous pizzeria across the street and her stomach gave a hungry twist at the mention of her favorite treat.

“Now don’t tell me you don’t eat pizza. That’s almost un-African-American.”

This time she laughed outright, and he memorized the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed and the high sculpted cheekbones that gave credence to her Caribbean heritage.

Hesitating a moment, she sucked in her bottom lip, looking at him then across at the pizzeria.

“Okay.” She held up a slender manicured finger tipped with soft orange. “But just one slice. I have to get back to the office.”

“And,” he said intimately, “I wouldn’t want you to ruin your appetite for dinner.” Then, like a conjurer, he took her proffered hand and it magically disappeared in his. Before she had the presence of mind to react, he was walking her across the street. As much as she hated to admit it, her hand felt fantastic in his.

“I guess you’ve heard all of the ugly rumors about me?” he asked, tearing off a piece of the steamy pizza and looking at her questioningly.

Terri took a deep breath. “Maybe. The question is, are they true?”

He smiled without humor. “That all depends. If you’ve heard that I’m a tough businessman, then it’s true. If you’ve heard that I make it my business to take what I want in life, then that’s also true.” He shot her a penetrating look that made her avert her gaze.

“Beyond that—” he shrugged his broad shoulders “—I’m just your regular guy.” He took a napkin and wiped his full lips, waiting for her response.

“You make it sound so matter-of-fact.”

“I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Terri noticed the momentary flash of pain that hovered behind those dark eyes. Then it was gone. Briefly she wondered who or what had pierced the impenetrable armor.

“You’re a very complex man, Clint.”

He laughed a deep soul-stirring rumble. “I’ve been called worse. Coming from you, however, I take it as a compliment.”

She took a nibble at her pizza and returned it to the paper plate.

“So have you changed your mind about me? My offer still stands.” Hope filled his dark eyes.

Instead of a direct answer, she toyed with him. “I very rarely change my mind once it’s made up. But I’m always open for discussion. If I have reason to listen.”

His voice lowered to a deep whisper, his response rattling her feigned poise. “Then we have a lot more than business to talk about.”

For several breathtaking seconds, their eyes held. “I’ve got to be getting back to the office,” she said, smoothly disguising her shredded composure. “I’ll see you later.”

Without another word, he rose from his seat, rounded the table and helped her on with her coat. The nearness of him set her heart racing and she knew she had to get away—fast.

“Thank you.” She looked up at him one last time. “I’ve got to go,” she breathed.

With that she made a hasty exit, darting in and out of the flow of traffic, the sensation of Clint nipping at her heels as eagerly as the fall breeze.

Terri massaged her temples. The figures just didn’t seem to make sense. She shook her head. Maybe she was just tired. It was past six-thirty and she had been going over the books and comparing dates for hours. Clint would be downstairs waiting. Her pulse quickened at the thought.

Closing the huge ledger, she reached into her desk drawer for her purse just as Andrea, her secretary, tapped on the door and entered.

“Present for the boss,” Andrea said, her face hidden behind long-stemmed flowers.

Terri eyed her secretary with skepticism. Andrea’s arm was laden with what looked to be more than two dozen Casablanca lilies. Quickly she got up from her desk to help with the burden.

“Where on earth did these come from?” Terri asked.

“They just arrived.”

Terri gently searched through the huge bouquet.

“There’s no card, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Terri frowned. “Are you sure? How did they get here?” She placed the flowers on the desk and selected a vase from the credenza large enough to accommodate them.

“A messenger just brought them up. All I did was sign for them. They were addressed to you.”

Terri was puzzled. “I don’t understand. These are my favorite flowers,” she said in a wispy voice. She pressed her face against the bouquet and inhaled the heady aroma. “But who knows that?”

“Obviously someone does.” Andrea smiled. “I’ll put these in water and bring them right back.” She picked up the lilies and the vase and left the office.

“Thanks,” Terri answered absently.

For several moments she paced the room, trying to figure out who could have sent the flowers. The only people who knew of her passion for lilies were her adoptive parents, and she was sure that they hadn’t sent them. They were hundreds of miles away and weren’t the type of people who sent gifts just to be thoughtful. If it wasn’t an act that would get them a blurb in the society column, they didn’t bother. She’d probably mentioned it to several people, but to no one who would have gone to this extravagance. Clint?

She shook her head and smiled. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” she whispered, remembering her nana’s favorite line. Then she chuckled to herself, wondering for the zillionth time what in the world was a gift horse anyway?

Moments later, Andrea returned with the lilies safely deposited in the crystal vase.

“Where should I put these, Ms. Powers?”

“On the small table by the window. That should give them just enough light.”

“I’m all finished out front. If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to go home.”

“Of course, Andrea. I didn’t mean to keep you here so late. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Good night, Ms. Powers.”

“Good night.”

Left alone in the room Terri took one last look at her beautiful bouquet. It had been a long time since someone had sent her flowers. And she was going to enjoy every minute of it. She closed the door gently behind her.

Terri exited the building and was greeted by a cold burst of wind. October was a mysterious month. There was no telling what Mother Nature would send. The temperature had already dropped considerably since the afternoon, and she was thankful that she had decided to wear her trench coat. Her only wish was that she’d put in the lining.

Pulling the trench tightly around her trim body, she took a quick look up at the cloud-filled sky and wondered how far off was the first snowfall.

She checked her watch, noting that it was seven on the dot, and approached the curb to wait for Clint. Just as she neared the curb, a black Mercedes-Benz pulled up in front of her. Annoyed that the car had stopped and blocked her view of traffic, she started to walk to the corner just as the driver got out.

Leaning over the hood of the car, a look of pure mischief on his face, Clint held out one Casablanca lily between his fingers. “Can I take a few dozen lilies off your hands in exchange for dinner?”