The Millionaire's Revenge Page 3

  “Good thing it’s turtleneck weather.” She touched his fingers with hers and emitted a nervous laugh. She avoided looking at him and stared into space.

  “You got one look at this”—he drew his hands down his body—“and well…rational thoughts flew out the window.”

  “Not full of yourself, are you…” She chewed the edge of her bottom lip as her face went from white to pink.

  Having Cyrus for a father, he would have thought she’d be better at the bullshit thing. Then again, this innocent spiel might be part of her act. He needed to keep that in mind if he started to get sidetracked.

  “How about I fix us some coffee while you…” get naked “…relax.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’m going to go into the bathroom and check the damage you’ve inflicted.” She smiled. “I’ve got both decaf and regular. You choose.”

  He had to remember why he was here—to get something on her father…and her. And soon. He couldn’t afford to lose any more projects, have his reputation questioned, see any more neighborhoods destroyed through Cyrus’s cheap building standards. There had to be a tie between Cyrus and the city planners.

  In a cabinet, he found an exotic mix of coffees from Café Vita to Blue Bottle to Peets Uzuri African Blend. He grabbed the Café Vita, threw it in the upscale combination coffee grinder/brewer, and turned it on. Cabinets wouldn’t yield any clues, though. It was a kitchen, and it wasn’t like she’d stash evidence of her complicity in one of the cabinets or the freezer. Then he heard the bathroom door close and went into the living room to search in earnest.

  A laptop lay open on the desk, but he suspected he wouldn’t have the time to get past her password. Her date book lay next to the computer, but he didn’t hold much hope for that, either. Most people he knew used their smartphones, but he shuffled through nonetheless.

  To his surprise, a couple of names were written on a piece of paper stuffed inside. None of them rang a bell, but he noted them in his phone so he could check on them later.

  Once he heard the sink turn on in the bathroom, he rushed into the kitchen, found a serving tray, poured two cups of coffee, added spoons, cream, and sugar, and set it all down on the polished mahogany coffee table. When he realized he’d left her address book open next to her computer, he scrambled over, nearly knocking down a fancy vase in the process. As the door to the bathroom clicked open, he stayed where he was and pretended to be eyeing her music collection.

  “You have pretty eclectic tastes.” He smiled and hoped she didn’t notice he was slightly out of breath.

  “I had kind of a strange upbringing.” She shook her head. “But that’s another whole story. Let’s say I enjoy a wide range of music. Studied dance since I was very little, running the gamut from ballet to hip-hop until I finally said enough when I was eighteen and went off to college. First Brown then Harvard for my MBA.”

  “I’m suitably impressed.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t be. I had to work my ass off.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. “Me, too.”

  “Where did you go to college?”

  “I went the night school route at City University of New York earning a degree in accounting.”

  She giggled. “An accountant gave me a hickey on a first non-date. That’s got to be a first.”

  “Checked it out while you were in the bathroom, huh?”

  “Gotta say, it’s a whopper. Better steer clear of my dad for a while. There’d be all sorts of explanations necessary.”

  “You see your dad a lot?” Fishing might be the best way to get this done as quickly as possible.

  She shook her head, clearly avoiding the topic altogether. “Enough about him. Let’s pick out some music to listen to, unless you’d rather watch a movie.”

  “Music sounds good.” Based on what happened on the dance floor and just ten minutes ago, he was taking a calculated risk putting on music with her in the vicinity, but he needed to figure out a way to gain her trust.

  No matter what it took.

  Chapter Four

  Before she had a chance to lift her way-too-heavy head from her pillow, her cell started ringing. Excitement dimmed as quickly as it came. It couldn’t be Luke.

  In keeping with her whole new way of thinking and being in charge, Grace hadn’t given him her phone number. If she was going to play to win on her terms, this was the only way to make it happen. Now, if she were truly thinking like an estrogen-laden teenager, she’d decide on the best time to call—or if she’d call him at all. Yep, she went off the rails yesterday and veered slightly from her TSD—Test, Screw, and Dump—mindset. Had to be because she hadn’t accepted a date with anyone in a long time.

  She glanced at the readout. Crap. Not who she needed to talk to at the moment, but she picked it up anyway. “Dad.” If she was going to have a conversation with him, she needed liquor, but she’d settle for caffeine.

  After throwing back the covers, she slipped on her robe to ward off the morning chill in her century-old townhome and padded down the stairs toward the kitchen.

  “Good morning, kitten.” Why he insisted on calling her some endearment from an old 50’s movie, she’d never understand.

  “What’s up?” A chill wormed along her spine. Never one to beat around the bush, she couldn’t help but wonder why he called her at the crack of dawn—okay, it was really ten, but Luke hadn’t left until four a.m. Damn, that man was fine. He could kiss like a dream, had a body that would put even Channing Tatum to shame, and had scruples—well, at least he pretended to. The truth had yet to be seen.

  “Meet me for lunch.”

  As usual it wasn’t a question, but an imperative. Lunch? She wanted to sit around and fantasize about Luke for a bit longer, not kowtow to her father’s impulsivity. But if she said no, she’d have to explain why and it wasn’t worth the effort. She ran her finger through her messy hair. “What time and where?”

  “Certe at one o’clock.”

  “Is there any special reason?”

  “I want to show you the architectural drawings for my new development.”

  She nearly squealed as hope shimmied through. “Hudson River? The one where you were going to incorporate mixed-income units? With the focus on affordable housing spots, I knew adding the mixed-income units would help you secure the deal.”

  She’d brought the property to her father’s attention a month ago and made some suggestions on how to set up the units, including several spots for people who couldn’t afford the million-dollar price tags. There was fierce competition from someplace called LRM Real Estate Development, but of course the great Cyrus Whitaker had been victorious in the end. Just like in everything else. And he never could resist telling her about it, either.

  “You know me, I’m always the winner.” Yep, she’d called that.

  “I didn’t realize you’d closed the deal?”

  “They’ve chosen my proposal. We’ll close in about a month.”

  She grabbed a slice of bread from the counter and sprinkled some olive oil on it before taking a bite. “I’m meeting the gals at Bloomingdale’s soon, so I need to go.” With nothing more to say, she hung up.

  Flashes of Luke’s lips tunneled through her brain. She walked to the hall mirror and admired the love bite he’d left on her neck. If he hadn’t left definite proof, she might have suspected a dream was responsible for this uncharacteristic tingle. Maybe she should do what Felicia had said and indulge in a personal pleasure device. The idea sounded more than a little tempting as memories from last night moved front and center in her mind.

  Good thing he’d stopped before the inevitable happened, although she’d thought of him way too much in the interim. What kind of spell had he cast on her?

  Maybe he’d slipped some kind of aphrodisiac into her drink, because this heightened sensuality didn’t make a whole lot of sense. TGTBT. Too good to be true. That pretty much described Luke to a T. She needed to refocus and go through the steps as she’d planned to test him.


  Maybe she’d call him. Maybe she wouldn’t.

  She glanced at the note he’d affixed to the mirror on his way out the door. Subtle it wasn’t. SOAS—Luke—followed by his number.

  Just as she ripped the Post-it note off the mirror, the doorbell rang. Reflexively, she glanced in the mirror.

  Smudges under her eyes, lips swollen, hickey the exact size of his lips adorning her neck like a wayward trajectory to her heart, hair a mess of craziness. Since she could do little else, she finger-combed and peeked through the peephole.

  Nothing.

  She wrapped the robe belt tighter around her waist and tentatively opened the door, leaving the chain firmly in place. A dozen or more red peonies lay nestled in a bed of green paper in a white box. A white piece of paper was affixed to the box, with SOAS across the top.

  When she bent down to pick up the flowers, she noticed a tube stuck between the layers of paper. She couldn’t help but smile as she read the label: heavy-duty cover-up cream. When she giggled, her neighbor Mrs. Harrington stepped through her front gate and commented, “I guess somebody is looking for a little action.”

  If the woman only knew. “Good morning to you as well.” She waved and went back inside.

  As soon as she got out of the shower and dressed, she scooted out the door and caught a cab to meet up with her friends. Late fall temps chilled the air as the swirl of leaves comingled with the city’s dirt and whipped around the buildings on Third Avenue. Bell ringers had already set up their stations, anxious for the holiday giving season to begin. She scooted inside and found her friends surrounded by boxes and a very patient salesperson.

  “Have you heard from Captain Gorgeous?” Tess asked as she zipped up a pair of boots. “What do you think of these?”

  “The heel’s too chunky.” Grace didn’t try to hide her smile. “And as for the good captain, he had flowers delivered this morning.”

  “He didn’t stay the night? Does that mean we won’t be able to get the details of how it went down?” Felicia smiled.

  The two of them stopped mid-boot-try-on to stare at her, waiting for more info.

  “He didn’t even get to first base…well…he had his hands on my naked butt, but that’s only because I was wearing a thong and my skirt went sky-high.”

  Tess held out her hand, unable to speak for a few moments. “Are you shitting me?”

  Before she could respond, Felicia said, “You went that far and didn’t complete the deal?” She shook her head. “I have no words.”

  “He gave me a nice little hickey as a memento, though.” She pulled down the top of her sweater to reveal the mark at the base of her neck.

  Both women sat back in their seats, waving off help from the salespeople. It seemed she’d found the magic way to make them speechless without even knowing—and apparently stop their shopping fetish as well.

  Finally, Tess spoke. “That took willpower. Or was he a bad kisser?”

  Felicia added, “I knew there had to be something wrong with him. He was too perfect to be true.”

  “He was amazing. I mean he kisses like a man who not only knows what he’s doing, but knows what he wants.”

  “But shouldn’t what he wanted have been you?” Tess asked with a hint of suspicion in her voice.

  Grace tried to not let her friend’s skepticism spoil the feel good she had going on. “I had a moment of sanity, and he agreed we needed to take it slower.”

  Felicia slipped on her boot and pulled up the zipper. “So what’s the next step in your new mission to transform your life?”

  “I was thinking of the perfect plan to test whether he makes it to step two.”

  “Does it involve nakedness?” Tess asked. “Girl, you two need to get naked to find out if you’re compatible.”

  “One test at a time.” The alarm went off on her phone. “Crap. I’ve got to go meet dear old daddy for lunch. Wish me luck.” Without a chance to try on a pair of boots, she headed out the store to catch a cab.

  The one thing her father expected was promptness, ironic considering it took him nearly eighteen years before he even acknowledged her as his daughter.

  She rushed into Certe at five minutes past one o’clock and spotted her father looking at his watch. To make up for being late, she kissed him on the cheek. “Traffic was horrible.”

  “Or you and your friends got lost on Madison Avenue.” He sipped his coffee and patted the roll of architectural drawings off to the side. “I have a meeting with the city at two, so I took the liberty of ordering for you.”

  He had to be frickin’ kidding. “All right then, why don’t you show me the plans.” She unrolled the papers and spread them on the table as best she could. “Only two units on the top? The subsidized units are the same size as the others?” Her smile was genuine when she looked at him. “But the drawings are wow…”

  It wasn’t like her father to be so generous or to recognize the needs of others, but clearly, he’d taken her passion for those less fortunate to heart.

  He nodded, a seldom seen smile on his face. “The ones on top are penthouses, with rooftop terraces. They have exposed brick walls, exposed ductwork, and twenty-foot ceilings. The other units have similar features, but these top two are spectacular.”

  She glanced over the blueprints, feeling the same excitement she felt when she’d originally spotted the old warehouse near the Hudson. Although not trained in architecture, she’d been dragged to enough of her father’s job sites over the last few years to know a diamond in the rough when she saw one. Once she did some research and found it was open for bids, she asked her father to jump on it. As it was smaller than his normal project, he seemed reluctant, especially when she suggested he make the project mixed income and work with the existing structure rather than tear it down. But within a couple of weeks, he’d been all-in.

  Emotion clogged her throat, and she felt it bubble through. Tears formed in her eyes. “It’s everything I imagined it would be when I spotted the property. The architect you used not only is fast, he’s unbelievable.”

  …

  Luke’s control had slipped last night. For once, he wondered if he’d bitten off more than he could chew. That had never happened before despite the numerous gambles he’d taken over the years.

  He had to get his head in the game. Just because he was flirting with taking down the big dog didn’t make this any riskier. He only had to be more delicate in his approach.

  Underestimating Cyrus Whitaker, and his daughter, would be a huge mistake. Right now, the man didn’t know who ran LRM Real Estate Development, and he’d like to keep it that way. That meant time was of the essence. There was also that troublesome thing about his attraction to Grace.

  Visiting his attorney, Sal, and getting him to file paperwork to prevent the closing was the next step. The move would be a temporary stopgap, but would buy him enough time to get charges filed, once he had definitive proof about Whitaker’s bribery of government officials and misrepresentation of intent.

  “Do you have something for me?” Sal shook his hand and sat back behind his desk.

  Luke sat across from him and pulled out his phone. “I found two names in her appointment book. Maybe they mean something. Maybe they don’t.” Although he’d felt a little uncomfortable snooping through Grace’s things, there was no other way to get the job done quickly. He handed his cell to Sal. “I did a Google search but didn’t find anything.”

  “I know you want to bring Whitaker down and get your property back, but I’m not sure romancing his daughter is the way to go about it. We’re working on a short timeframe, and I doubt she’d turn over the goods on her father. Especially if they implicate her complicity.”

  Luke smiled. “I can be very persuasive when I set my mind on something.”

  Sal shook his head. “If it were me, I’d say drop it and find another building. Cyrus Whitaker is not a guy you want to cross.”

  “I’m not backing down. This one is mine.” He sucked i
n a breath to temper his pulse as he thought about losing this building. “Do those two names mean anything to you?”

  “Looks like she’s called a guy by the last name of Gage. Probably the one working in the permits department of the city. Never heard of anybody named Prentiss. I can check around and see what I find out.”

  “Permits. I knew it. I’m betting this whole thing is going to get pretty messy before things swing back my way.”

  “That’s why you should let me do what I can—”

  Luke held up his hand to stop him when his phone rang. He read the name and grinned. “Hey, beautiful.”

  “How did you know it was me?” She sounded so innocent, even after what he’d just learned. All an act.

  “A number I’ve never seen on my phone before. Just hoping you weren’t a telemarketer.”

  She laughed in a way that, if he didn’t know better, made her sound naive. He never saw her photographed on anyone’s arm in the society pages. No boyfriends he’d been able to unearth, either. Could it be true she hadn’t dated much, probably because guys were always after her money or to get in with her father? Nah. Her contrived innocence had to be a perfected strategy to steal guys blind before they realized it.

  “That could have been embarrassing, especially if it was a man.”

  Because it was woven into his DNA to be suspicious, he couldn’t help but envision putting the screws to her—and not in a good way. Whatever it took to get the job done.

  “Get my gift?”

  “Sure did. I wanted to thank you. Most guys would have gone for the standby of roses, so how did you know peonies were my favorite?”

  “Lucky guess.” As well as spending a crapload of time sifting through data on both her and her father.

  “Do you want to do a movie night at my place on Wednesday?”

  “I guess you’re saving the weekend for somebody special, huh?” Sal made a gagging motion by sticking his finger into his mouth. Luke scowled at him.

  “Something like that.”

  “Just for clarification purposes, is this a Netflix and Chill kind of movie night or a real movie marathon?”