Fortune's Heirs: Reunion Page 18

  Crystal Green lives in San Diego, California, where she writes for Special Moments™ and Blaze®. When she isn’t penning romances, she loves to read, overanalyse movies, pet her parents’ Maltese dog, fence, do yoga and fantasise about being a really good cook.

  Whenever possible, Crystal loves to travel. Her favourite souvenirs include journals – the pages reflecting everything from taking tea in London’s Leicester Square to wandering the neon-lit streets of Tokyo.

  She’d love to hear from her readers at: 8895 Towne Centre Drive, Suite 105-178, San Diego, CA 92122-5542, USA. And don’t forget to visit her website at www. crystal-green.com!

  To Nancy: Here’s to the true love you deserve.

  Chapter One

  No more man temptation.

  Christina Mendoza repeated her mantra yet again as she poised a pen over her ink-scrawled legal pad and fixed a cool, all-business gaze on Derek Rockwell.

  Her boss. A man she had met only in passing before he had invited her into his office today.

  Silence hummed while he perused her report—an analysis based on her observations of Fortune-Rockwell, his company. As sunlight glinted off his dark brown hair, she noticed that his cut—longer on top, shorter on the bottom—was a touch military.

  Conservative, demanding.

  Hmph. Mr. Rockwell’s hair shouldn’t be so fascinating to her, Christina thought, waiting for him to finish torturing her with the whole report-card-reading power play. And she shouldn’t be thinking about the way his crisp suit accentuated those broad shoulders, either. And, really, while she was at it, the same should go for the slant of those high cheekbones, which were balanced by a strong nose and chin. And as for those brown eyes…

  All right. She might as well admit it. No man temptation notwithstanding, she was checking the guy out, just as thoroughly as she had upon briefly meeting him on her first day of work.

  Especially his mouth.

  While he was still occupied, she took a moment to appreciate his lower lip in particular. It hinted at a possible soft spot his gaze didn’t reveal.

  Fascinating.

  Could he be more handsome? Because if there was one thing Christina didn’t need, it was a boss who was muy guapo. She’d already learned that hormones and office relationships didn’t mix.

  Learned that quite well.

  Besides, she and her sisters had a pact: none of the Mendoza girls—Christina, Gloria nor Sierra—would get involved with men for a year. After Mama had called them back to Red Rock a month ago in order to reconcile the family, the siblings had mended their misunderstandings.

  In the flush of reunion, they’d promised each other to put family first, since males had been at the root of all their problems anyway.

  And if any of them fell to man temptation before the year was up…oh-oh. It would mean humiliation. Heinous work.

  Already, Christina’s younger sister, Gloria, had blown her promise to stay away from men. She’d fallen in love with Jack Fortune, the son of the Big Boss—Patrick Fortune.

  In fact, Gloria was carrying Jack’s child.

  Something tugged on Christina’s barely used heart. At the age of thirty-two, she was finally going to be an aunt.

  Tia Christina. A soft little baby to hold and cuddle. A sign of great love. Of joining with someone who had touched your soul.

  She found herself smiling like a romantic dope, but vanquished it just before Derek Rockwell glanced up from the analysis. Never releasing her from eye contact, he sent the papers wafting to his desk.

  Christina didn’t spare him a blink. In fact, without even looking at the notepad, she scribbled: Man temptation = bad.

  “Very astute, Ms. Mendoza.”

  His voice was a low, lazy drawl that couldn’t have been cultivated in New York, where he’d been heading up the East Coast branch of Fortune-Rockwell Investments before his former business partner had summoned him here.

  That’s right. Patrick Fortune was counting on Rockwell to whip the struggling San Antonio offices back into shape, and that’s why she’d been hired, too.

  If she could manage to stop drooling over her notes long enough to concentrate.

  “Thank you, Mr. Rockwell.” Her own tone was removed, detached, striking a professional line between her and the boss. Just because he had requested this touch-base meeting didn’t mean they had to be office pals. Soon, he’d no doubt go back to working behind a closed door, shutting the rest of the company out. Then she could be relieved of all this hormonal discomfort, all this…distraction.

  Christina cleared her throat and shifted in her chair as Rockwell ran a slow gaze over her crossed legs, her skirt-covered knees, her Ann Taylor jacket and her upswept hair. Her pulse quickened and followed the trail of his deliberate inspection.

  She thought of Gloria again. How she seemed so happy after working things out with Jack. How she’d fulfilled her end of losing the bet by cleaning Christina’s and Sierra’s houses while dressed in a French maid uniform.

  Oh, the price to pay for love.

  Christina must have been clenching her teeth—a bad habit—and making a goofy face, because Derek Rockwell was grinning at her. Relaxing back in his chair while a bluebonnet March sky framed him through the window.

  His vast walnut desk lent distance, intimidation. Even the sparse decorations—a few exotic musical instruments, such as an Asian-flavored lute and an African-inspired drum—were more statements of taste than personal revelations.

  Except for the one picture on his desk. A colorfaded photo of a short-haired woman who was hugging two little Maltese dogs.

  His mother?

  “Now that you’ve gotten your bearings here, we’ll be working closely together,” he said, smoothly turning the picture so that it faced away from her. “Since Patrick brought you on as our business analyst, I haven’t had the chance to talk with you, Christina. To take your measure.”

  He’d emphasized Patrick. A clear sign that just because she’d been hired by the older man, it meant nada.

  “Mr. Rockwell—” the use of his last name was a statement all in itself “—if you’re not pleased with what I’ve done so far, I’d be happy to discuss it.”

  “Oh, I like what I see. A degree in business from Texas A&M. Solid references. A good feel for what Fortune-Rockwell needs to get out of the red. I’m just wary. Especially after what the last analyst did to this place.”

  “So you’ve got no qualms about Patrick bringing me on?” Might as well get the truth out in the open.

  That sidelong grin curved Rockwell’s lips, and Christina’s heartbeat wavered.

  When he leaned forward, his movement fluid and rough all at the same time, she could see why Patrick had told her yesterday that she’d now be working with “my predatory pride and joy.”

  “I could be slightly put out because Patrick didn’t consult me before he hired you. I usually like to have a say in who I work with, Christina.” As he raised an eyebrow, there was a mildly wicked spark in his gaze. “Or my notable lack of amusement could just be me testing your mettle. It’s hard to keep up with me—to be a part of my vision for this company.”

  Christina bristled at what Derek was no doubt thinking: Patrick was doing the Mendoza family a favor by giving her a job.

  “Just in case you’re wondering,” she said, “I’m not here because of charity. I’ve earned this opportunity.”

  Rockwell narrowed his eyes, but settled in to listen.

  Encouraged, Christina continued. “While Patrick was getting to know my sisters and me at a reunion, he sensed opportunity. Being a great businessman, he funded Gloria’s jewelry business, Love Affair. He had a good feeling about its potential—just like he did about mine.”

  “So I’ve heard. Patrick’s told me a few things about you and your family, and I listened to him. I trust the man implicitly. He’s a great judge of character.”

  Rockwell stared at her intently, but there was something about the way he did it. Something that made
Christina’s breath catch. Something that made her want to soften and bat her eyelashes at him.

  Oh, brother.

  “Then why don’t you trust Patrick’s judgment in bringing me on?” she asked. “He made a good choice, Mr. Rockwell.”

  There went that grin again—half carefree flirt, half wolf in designer clothing. “I have to admit that if you impress me half as much as you did him, I’ll be appeased.”

  Blushing, Christina glanced down at her notes. There it went. Shyness mode. It’d never been easy for her to take a compliment.

  “However, keep this in mind,” Rockwell added. “I’m not real easy to impress.”

  “Then let’s get to work on that now.” Christina cleared her throat, sat up straight, chasing the modesty away with her expertise. As usual. “Patrick mentioned that you want to rubber-stamp my new ideas.”

  “Wait.” He made a nonchalant show of loosening his tie. “We’ll get to your spiel in a second. I kind of like to be comfortable with my co-workers before talking numbers.”

  Unable to control her inner fantasy machine, Christina thought, Comfortable, you say? Well, then let me undo my own figurative tie and we’ll go from there.

  Oooo. Bad. Very, very bad. Office relationships meant big trouble, whether you asked for them or not.

  Awful, naughty thoughts.

  He continued, clearly unaware of her chica-in-heat struggles.

  “You grew up around San Antonio?” he asked.

  Could she relax a little? Giving him a tiny bit of information wouldn’t be an impropriety. And besides, Patrick, a family friend, could give Rockwell all the gossip he wanted. What would be the harm in some chatting?

  Still, she fidgeted in her seat. “Yes, I did. My family’s home is in Red Rock. My parents live just down the road from the Double Crown Ranch, which belongs to Patrick’s brother, Ryan.”

  “I’d like to see it someday. Patrick tells me you had to quit your job in California to come back home. That must’ve been tough.”

  Okay, this she didn’t want to talk about. How, years ago, she and Gloria had experienced a falling-out because of a former co-worker. How sister had betrayed sister. How Sierra, the baby of their family, had been torn between Gloria and Christina. Their petty arguments. Their bickering.

  Things had gotten so uncomfortable that Christina had eventually moved to Los Angeles, fleeing her family in a flurry of shame and distrust. Gloria had moved to Denver.

  Sierra had stayed home, too preoccupied with everyone else’s lives to really have one of her own.

  Even now, guilt consumed Christina. It’d taken a panicked—yet false—phone call from Mama to bring her back to Red Rock.

  Papa has chest pains, she’d said. Please come to see him.

  Gloria had gotten the same call, but it was only after Mama had locked all three of the sisters into a room to hash out their problems that they’d learned their orchestrating matriarch had been exaggerating about Papa’s sickness.

  An anxiety attack. That’s what it was.

  But, in all honesty, Christina’s own heart had always been in Red Rock. She’d just needed a good excuse to return to it.

  She doodled the loving shape on her note pad. “It wasn’t so hard to come back here at all.”

  A beat of silence separated the conversation into two halves: the subject of Red Rock and the expectation that Christina would ask about his personal life, in return.

  When she didn’t pursue the opening, Derek took the hint.

  Damn, she was a cold one. He’d even gotten that feeling during their first how-do-you-do last month, before he’d buried himself in work and the soothing pattern of forgetfulness.

  But, when all was said and done, he wouldn’t have told her squat even if she’d asked.

  Sure, he would’ve given her the usual platitudes: deceased mother and father, de facto son of the heart to Patrick Fortune, who’d plucked Derek from college and mentored him straight into an ultrasuccessful business career.

  Hell, with a bit of small talk, Christina Mendoza might even be an easier conquest than she appeared to be. He’d seen it happen before.

  But…nah. She was emanating those stay-away vibes, and he could respect that. Business was more important than his enjoyment of a good time anyway. It was hard to get good employees, yet not so hard to snag one-night stands.

  He held back a smile. Women. He loved the silhouettes of their bodies, the purr of their voices, the softness of their curves.

  And Ms. Christina Mendoza was hiding it all, with her stoic, brown linen suit. The gold of her studded earrings and simple necklace. The ivory, sun-shaped clip that captured her cocoa-brown hair.

  But her demure chignon revealed something that must’ve been an oversight. A sexy whisper of what was surely underneath all that quiet wrapping…

  A graceful, slender neck.

  In a flash of pure lust, Derek could imagine the taste of her pulse, her rosy skin, as he dragged his mouth up her throat. He would kiss his way up to her jaw, over her delicate cheekbones, to the tilt of her hazel eyes.

  In response, those long, toned legs of hers would wrap around his body, allowing her to lean back—maybe even over the expanse of his office desk—then to press into the ever-awakening beat of his arousal.

  Derek’s pants had gotten pretty tight, just thinking about what wouldn’t happen with his employee. He changed position in his stuffed leather chair, hoping to tuck away his hunger and get on with business.

  His movement attracted her attention away from that notepad of hers.

  You’d think she’d written out the solution to world peace from the way she stared at those scribblings, he thought.

  Derek opened his mouth to make more conversation, to relax her—or was it to relax him? To let her know that she could count on him to keep to his “boss” role—or was he only convincing himself?

  But that’s when he spied Jack Fortune through the office window, strolling past the assistant’s desk and toward the door. Great.

  With his black hair and tall frame, Jack didn’t exactly cry out, “Patrick’s son!” Oddly enough, his dad was a redhead, and no one in the family could explain where the coloring had come from.

  “Hope I’m in time to hear Ms. Mendoza reveal her big new plans for Fortune-Rockwell,” Jack said, standing by Christina’s chair and extending his hand in greeting.

  Not surprisingly, Christina perked up. Jack was almost a part of her family, what with him getting one of the Mendoza sisters pregnant.

  Careless.

  She shook Jack’s hand. “Congratulations on taking over Patrick’s holdings,” she said. “And on my little niece or nephew.”

  “Thank you. I guess you deserve kudos yourself.”

  Christina smiled. “Why is that?”

  “You managed to get Gloria to clean your house. A masterstroke of genius.”

  “Well, it wasn’t as incredible as your successes with Fortune, TX, Limited, Jack. I’m eager to hear what you have in store for Fortune-Rockwell Investments, too.”

  Derek arranged his features into a neutral mask. It wasn’t smart to let Jack see how much it rankled that Patrick had recently transferred all his business holdings to his son. Derek and Patrick had been a great team, so why had his mentor gone into semiretirement and given Jack control?

  True, Derek and Jack worked well together, too, even with the tension between them. But, still, Derek already missed strategizing with his surrogate father on a daily basis.

  Jack folded his lean body onto the leather couch, still talking to Christina. “We’re hoping to see better results with you, Christina. You know about the damage this branch sustained from the last business analyst.”

  “I know he recommended massive layoffs,” Christina said, reciting her knowledge as if she were briefing the Pentagon. “And even though his ideas increased bottom-line profits for the short term, they resulted in poor employee morale. You fired the analyst after the layoffs backfired.”

 
“Someone’s up on current events,” Jack said.

  Hey, Fortune-Rockwell was Derek’s baby. So why the hell was Jack doing all the talking?

  Standing, Derek moved to the front of his desk, right in front of Christina. He leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “We’ve got the layoffs and two new bosses breathing down the employees’ necks,” he said, “and that makes matters even worse.”

  Efficiently, Christina dug into a briefcase resting near her fashionable, yet practical white-and-brown pumps, then produced two bound reports. She rose to her feet, presenting Derek with one and Jack with the other.

  “Don’t worry. You hired me to come up with ways to increase employee productivity, and that’s what I’ll do.” She stood in the center of the room, a hand braced on one hip, cocky as you please. “These are some statistics and research for you to look over before we go any further.”

  Damn, she had such great legs. Long, trim…

  The sound of Jack flipping open his report redirected Derek’s wandering focus.

  But that didn’t keep him from casting one last glance at her gorgeous figure before devoting himself to the numbers.

  The cover read, “How to Tell the Employees They’re Important: Providing Personal Growth Opportunities to Improve Morale.”

  Perfect. Touchy-feely, la-di-da solutions to a serious problem.

  She was already launching into her pitch. “As you can see from the graphs, tables and charts, many studies show that when employees have the perception that the corporation cares, they want to do well for the company. Their sense of loyalty increases. Many even look forward to coming to work. I’d like to explore ways to get our employees into the company spirit again, whether it’s through personal growth classes, recreation options or even day care for families.”

  Derek was just about to ask how much money this would cost when Jack spoke up.

  “Classes. I like that. The employees would see right off the bat that we’re here to make some positive changes. Best of all, their new skills might even transfer over to their jobs in some way. Christina, if you concentrate on that aspect first, how soon can you have a presentation ready?”