From the desk of Emerald Larson, owner and CEO of Emerald, Inc.

To: My personal assistant, Luther Freemont

Re: My newly discovered grandsons, Caleb Walker, Nick Daniels and Hunter O’Banyon

The time has come to implement the plans I have for my grandsons. You are to take the corporate jet to collect them for a meeting here in Wichita a week from today. Needless to say, I will not tolerate refusals or excuses of any kind. Once I tell my grandsons who they are and what I expect of them, Caleb will be the first to receive his assignment. I already have a man in place at the financial consulting firm to report back to me on his progress. If Caleb is as intelligent and resourceful as I suspect, he should have no trouble taking over the reins of Skerritt and Crowe and turning it into a profitable venture.

As always, I am relying on your complete discretion in this matter.

Emerald Larson

Engagement Between Enemies
Kathie DeNosky

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KATHIE DENOSKY

lives in her native southern Illinois with her husband and one very spoiled Jack Russell terrier. She writes highly sensual stories with a generous amount of humor. Kathie’s books have appeared on the Waldenbooks bestseller list and received the Write Touch Readers’ Award from WisRWA and the National Readers’ Choice Award. She enjoys going to rodeos, traveling to research settings for her books and listening to country music. Readers may contact Kathie at: P.O. Box 2064, Herrin, Illinois 62948-5264 or e-mail her at kathie@kathiedenosky.com.

This book is dedicated with deepest appreciation to Kristi Gold, Roxann Delaney, Mary Gardner and my editor, Tina Colombo. Without their encouragement and unwavering support, this book would not have been possible.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Prologue

Caleb Walker sat at the small round table in the corner of a downtown Wichita, Kansas, hotel bar, staring at the two men seated across from him. Not even the blond waitress giving him an interested smile and the fact that he hadn’t had sex in a month of Sundays diverted his attention from the matter at hand.

All of his life, he’d been a man without siblings and with no idea who his father was. But not more than an hour ago, in a plush executive office at the corporate headquarters of Emerald, Inc., all that had changed. Caleb had learned that his father was none other than globe-trotting playboy and heir apparent to the Emerald, Inc. empire, Owen Larson. The late Owen Larson. Now Caleb was having to come to terms with the fact not only that he knew who his father was, but that the man had gone and gotten himself killed in a boating accident off the coast of France before Caleb had had the chance to confront him for making Caleb’s mother pregnant and leaving her without so much as a by-your-leave. He’d also learned that his grandmother was the indomitable Emerald Larson and that the two men sitting across from him were his half brothers.

“I can’t believe we’ve been under that old bat’s surveillance all of our lives.” A muscle jerked along Hunter O’Banyon’s tanned jaw. “She knew everything there was to know about us and didn’t do a damned thing to fill us in on the big mystery until now.”

“That ‘old bat’ is our grandmother. And I’d say she’s done plenty.” Nick Daniels took a swig from the long-necked bottle in his hand, then set it on the table with a thump. “Hiring P.I.s to report our every move from the time we were out of diapers while keeping us in the dark about it takes balls.”

“The size of watermelons,” Caleb added. His gut still churned with anger that Emerald Larson, founder and CEO of one of the nation’s most successful female-owned and operated conglomerates, had denied them all the right to know who they were for so long. “I’m having a problem with her blackmailing our mothers with the threat of cutting us out of inheriting any part of Emerald, Inc. just to keep them silent about her worthless son being the jerk who got them pregnant.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’ll give her this much, the old gal’s a master at manipulation.”

Nick nodded. “I can understand why our moms went along with her. They were hoping to ensure a better life for us. But they paid a hell of a price for it.”

“I don’t give a damn about inheriting any part of Emerald Larson’s little self-made empire.” Hunter shook his head. “Hell will freeze over before I dance to her tune.”

“So you’re going to turn down her offer?” Caleb asked.

If they accepted Emerald’s conditions, they’d each be given one of her companies. She’d assured them there were no strings attached and she wouldn’t interfere with the way they ran the businesses. But Caleb wasn’t fool enough to believe it. It looked like his brothers weren’t either.

“I haven’t flown a chopper in the past five years.” Hunter’s mouth thinned to a menacing line. “What business would I have trying to run an air medevac service?”

“Well, it makes more sense than sending a desk jockey to run a cattle ranch in Wyoming.” Nick’s scowl deepened. “I’ve lived in a condo in St. Louis for the past twelve years. The closest I get to any kind of livestock these days is the Clydesdales when they pull a beer wagon down Market Street during a parade.”

Caleb had to agree that what Emerald Larson was asking them to do was ludicrous. He’d excelled in the business courses he’d taken in high school, but that had been a good number of years ago. He didn’t particularly like the idea of making a fool of himself when it became apparent he was in way over his head.

“Well, how do you think I feel?” He shook his head at the thought of what the old gal had in mind for him. “I’m a Tennessee farmer with nothing more than a high-school education. Emerald couldn’t have come up with anything more ridiculous than me taking over a financial consulting firm.”

Hunter reached for a pretzel from the bowl in the middle of the table. “You can bet that old girl has more up her sleeve than giving us part of Emerald, Inc. out of the goodness of her heart.”

“No doubt about it,” Nick said, nodding.

Caleb wasn’t sure exactly what Emerald Larson had in mind, but he knew just as surely as the sun rose in the east each morning that whatever it was, she’d purposely chosen the business she wanted each of them to run. “It’s my guess she wants us to prove something.”

Nick looked surprised. “Like what? That we don’t know what we’re doing?”

“Beats me. But you can bet Emerald Larson has a reason for everything she does.” Caleb shrugged as he swallowed the last of his beer. “The way I see it, we have two options. We can either turn the old gal down and walk away, making the sacrifices our mothers made to ensure our futures a total waste of time. Or, we can accept Emerald’s offer and show her that she doesn’t know beans from buckshot about who we are and where our talents lie.”

Hunter looked thoughtful. “I kind of like the idea of showing up the high-and-mighty Mrs. Larson.”

“It would serve her right when we all fall on our faces,” Nick said, still looking reluctant.

“But if we’re going to do this, we at least have to give it our best shot.” Caleb stood up and tossed a couple of dollar bills on the table. “It’s not in me to do anything half-assed.”

“Me neither,” the other two said in unison as they rose to their feet and added money to pay for their drinks.

“Then I guess all we have left to do is give Emerald our answer.” Caleb suddenly felt as if he was about to step out onto a tightrope without a safety net.

But as he led the way out of the bar and down the street toward the corporate offices of Emerald, Inc., he couldn’t help but feel a bit of nervous anticipation begin to build. He’d always enjoyed a challenge. And as unbelievable as it was, he was actually looking forward to taking over Skerritt and Crowe Financial Consultants. His only regret was that he didn’t have the education or the slightest idea of how to go about doing the job right.

One

Approaching the reception desk outside the executive offices of Skerritt and Crowe Financial Consultants, Caleb plastered on the professional smile he’d been practicing for the past week. “I’m here to see A. J. Merrick.”

“Do you have an appointment, sir?” the older, gray-haired receptionist asked as he started toward the doors behind her desk.

“I’m Caleb Walker.” He gave her a conspiratorial wink. “I believe Merrick is expecting me.”

“Hold it right there, Mr. Walton,” she said, rising to block his way.

“Walker.” He frowned. Hadn’t Merrick let the other employees know about his taking over as president of the firm?

The woman shrugged. “Walker, Walton, it doesn’t matter what your name is. You’re not going in there without an appointment.”

Apparently, no one had bothered to inform this woman. “Tell you what—” he glanced at the nameplate on her desk “—Geneva. After I talk with your boss, I promise I’ll come back and introduce myself.”

“My boss is busy and doesn’t want to be disturbed.” Geneva pointed to a row of chairs lining the wall across the room. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll see if I can work you in.”

At six feet four inches tall, he towered over the woman by at least a foot, but she wasn’t acting the least bit intimidated by it. From the look on her face, she was just as determined to keep him out of the office as he was determined he was going inside.

It was all he could do to keep a straight face. Geneva reminded him of a little banty hen his grandpa used to own—all bluff and ruffled feathers. And if her defiant expression was any indication, he had no doubt that he’d be sitting in the reception area until hell froze over before she picked up the phone and announced his arrival.

“There’s no need to go to all that trouble, Geneva.” Chuckling, he sidestepped the woman as he reached for the polished knob on the mahogany door with A. J. Merrick engraved on a brass plaque. “Take my word for it, Merrick is going to want to meet with me right away.”

“I’ll call security,” Geneva threatened, rushing over to the phone.

“You do that,” Caleb said, nodding. “I’d like to meet with them, too.”

“Oh, you will, buster,” she promised, stabbing her finger at the phone’s keypad.

Without waiting to see if Geneva reached the security desk, Caleb opened the door and stepped into the spacious office. His gaze immediately zeroed in on the young woman seated behind a huge walnut desk in front of a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.

With her dark auburn hair pulled back in a bun tight enough to make his grandma Walker proud and a pair of oversize black plastic-framed glasses, she looked more like a headmistress at one of those hoity-toity private all-girl schools in Nashville than a modern corporate secretary. And if her disapproving expression was any indication, she was just as unyielding and strict about rules and protocol as one of those overly uptight teachers, too.

But as he sauntered over to stand in front of the desk, he thought he saw a hint of uncertainty about her—a vulnerability that, considering the image she was obviously trying to project, he hadn’t expected. “Excuse me. I’m looking for A. J. Merrick.”

“Do you have business here?” she asked, her voice cool enough to freeze ice.

Rising to her feet, she pushed her glasses up her pert little nose with a delicate hand, inadvertently drawing attention to her brilliant blue eyes—eyes that sent him a look that would have probably stopped a lesser man dead in his tracks. It didn’t faze Caleb one damned bit. On the contrary. He wasn’t sure why, but for some reason he found something quite intriguing about her intense blue gaze.

“I’m—”

“If you’re looking for personnel, it’s down the hall,” she said, cutting him off before he had a chance to introduce himself. Pausing, she arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Was Mrs. Wallace at her desk?”

The woman’s no-nonsense tone couldn’t quite mask the soft, melodic quality of her voice and had Caleb wondering why the sound seemed to bring every one of his male hormones to full alert. Wondering what the hell had gotten into him, he decided it had to be the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman in the better part of a year. That alone was enough to make any normal, healthy adult male feel as though he was about to jump out of his own skin. It also made him overly conscious of every move a woman—any woman—made.

Satisfied that he’d come up with an explanation for his interest in the less-than-friendly secretary, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “As far as I know, Geneva’s still out there.” He chuckled. “Although I’m not real sure she didn’t break one of her fingers punching in the number for security.”

“Good.”

“Good that she might have broken a finger? Or good that she was calling security?” he asked, grinning.

“I didn’t mean—” Frowning, she stopped short and it was clear that for a split second, he’d thrown her off guard. “Good that she’s summoning security, of course.”

“Hey, lighten up. Life is too short to be so uptight.”

The woman rounded the end of the desk, her expression anything but welcoming. “I don’t know who you think you are or why you’re here, but you can’t just walk in and—”

The sound of the door crashing against the wall stopped the young woman in midsentence.

“That’s him.”

Caleb glanced over his shoulder to see the receptionist charge into the office with a defiant glare. Two middle-aged, potbellied uniformed men followed close behind.

“I see you got hold of the security guards, Geneva.” He glanced at his watch, then nodded his approval. “Their response time wasn’t bad, but I think we could work on improving it, don’t you?”

Geneva managed to look down her nose at him despite the difference in their heights, then turned her attention to the woman with the remarkable baby blues. “I’m sorry, Ms. Merrick.” She eyed Caleb like she didn’t think his elevator went all the way to the top floor. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. This was A. J. Merrick?

Interesting. She definitely wasn’t what he’d expected. Emerald had led him to believe that Merrick was a stodgy old gent, not a twentysomething woman with incredible blue eyes.

As they stared at each other like opponents in a boxing ring, his neglected libido noticed that A. J. Merrick wasn’t dressed like most women her age. Instead of her black suit caressing her body and showing off her assets, it hung from her small frame like an empty tow sack. But if her delicate hands, slender neck and what he could see of her long, perfectly shaped legs were any indication, he’d bet his grandpa’s best coonhound she was hiding some pretty incredible curves inside all that baggy black linen.

“It’s all right, Mrs. Wallace.” Ms. Merrick treated Caleb to a triumphant smile that did strange things to his insides and made him feel as if the temperature in the room had suddenly gone up ten degrees. “I’m sure you’ll understand that applying for a job now would be a waste of time for both of us.” To the guards coming to stand on either side of him, she added, “Please show this gentleman to the parking lot.”

“That’s mighty unfriendly of you,” Caleb said, shaking his head.

Allowing the men to demonstrate how they would handle the situation if he’d been a real threat, Caleb almost laughed out loud when they clumsily grabbed his arms and attempted to pull them behind his back. He immediately decided that they not only needed to work on their response time to a situation, but could both benefit from a refresher course in methods of restraint. If he’d been of a mind to, he could have broken their hold without doing much more than flexing his biceps.

“I’m not here to apply for a job.” He smiled. “I already work here.”

“Oh, really?” Ms. Merrick tilted her head curiously. “Since I do the final interviews for all new employees, would you care to refresh my memory and tell me what your name is, when we hired you and just which area of Skerritt and Crowe you think you work in?”

“I got the job a week ago and I intend to work in the office next to yours.” Chuckling, he decided he was going to enjoy sparring with A. J. Merrick. “The name is Walker. Caleb Walker.”

He could tell from the widening of her baby blues behind those ridiculous glasses that his answers were not what she’d expected. But she quickly recovered her composure and motioned toward the two guards. “Mr. Norton, Mr. Clay, please release Mr. Walker immediately.”

“But Ms. Merrick—”

“I said, let him go,” she repeated. She lifted her stubborn little chin a notch. “Mr. Walker is the new president of Skerritt and Crowe.”

From somewhere behind him, he heard Geneva gasp at the same time as the two guards dropped their hold on him.

“Sorry about that, Mr. Walker,” one of the men said, clumsily trying to straighten Caleb’s shirtsleeve.

Silence reigned for several tense seconds as Caleb and the woman in front of him stared at each other. In a lot of ways she reminded him of another woman and another time.

He took a deep breath. That had been a while back and he’d learned a lot in the few years since. He was no longer a naive farm boy with lofty dreams and a trusting heart. He was a grown man who’d learned his lessons well.

“If you’d give Ms. Merrick and me a few minutes, I’d surely appreciate it,” he finally said as he continued to meet her intense gaze. When he heard the quiet click of the door being pulled shut behind the three, Caleb smiled. “What do you say we start over?” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Caleb Walker. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Merrick.”

When she hesitantly placed her hand in his, the feel of her soft palm against his sent a shock wave all the way to his toes. She apparently felt the same jolt of electric current because she dropped his hand faster than the high-school football captain’s pants hit the floor on prom night. He barely managed to keep from laughing out loud.

“I know I’m earlier than you all expected, but don’t you think it would have been a good idea to inform the employees about me? After all, Emerald Larson called you several days ago to tell you I’d be here at the end of this week.”

“Mrs. Larson indicated that you’d be here on Friday.”

“I’m only a day early,” he said, breathing a bit easier when A.J. didn’t refer to Emerald as his grandmother.

He’d purposely asked Emerald not to mention their relationship when she called Skerritt and Crowe, and it appeared that she’d respected his wishes. He didn’t want or need the added prejudices of being the owner’s grandson when he took over.

“It was my intention to introduce you to everyone tomorrow at the directors’ meeting,” she said, sounding extremely efficient.

“Well, I can guarantee you the cat’s out of the bag now,” he said, grinning. “I’ll bet Geneva and her two sidekicks are spreading the word like fire through a hay field.”

To his amazement, she didn’t even crack a smile. “I’m sure they are.”

Her calm demeanor had Caleb wondering if A. J. Merrick ever let herself lose control. Something told him that it didn’t happen often. But he also sensed that when she did let go, it would be a hell of a sight. What he couldn’t figure out was why he’d like to be there to see it when she did.

She waved her hand at one of the burgundy leather armchairs in front of her desk. “Please have a seat, Mr. Walker.”

Sitting down, he watched her walk around the desk to lower herself into the high-backed executive chair. “Since we’re going to be working together, why don’t we ditch the formalities?” he asked, wondering what made A. J. Merrick tick. “Call me Caleb.”

“I’d rather not, Mr. Walker,” she said, straightening some papers on her desk.

“Why not?” He wasn’t at all surprised by her insistence on formalities. However, he was dismayed by his own persistence in getting her to let down her guard.

She stopped fussing with the documents to give him a pointed look. “It will only complicate things when the time comes for you to let me go.”

Now where had that come from? To his knowledge, he hadn’t given her any reason to feel threatened or to believe he’d be firing her, or anyone else for that matter. But she was acting like it was a done deal.

He sat forward. “Where did you get the harebrained idea that I’d be letting you go?”

“Any time there’s a change in upper management, the result is always the same. The new president or CEO brings in his or her own people for the top positions and the old regime is history.” She shrugged one slender shoulder as she met his gaze head-on. “Since I’m the operations manager over all the departments here at Skerritt and Crowe, mine will be one of the first heads to roll.”

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he detected a slight tremor in her voice. But as she continued to stare at him like he was lower than the stuff he scraped off his boots after a trip through the barnyard, he decided he’d imagined the sound. A. J. Merrick was way too professional to show the slightest bit of emotion. What shocked him more than her steely control was his sudden desire to see what lay beneath that cool facade, to discover what she was so obviously trying to hide.

“Let me put your fears to rest right here and now. I’m not getting rid of you or anyone else,” he said, forcing his mind back to the matter at hand. She had no way of knowing, and he wasn’t about to tell her that he didn’t have a clue about running a firm of financial consultants or that he’d have to rely heavily on her and others’ experience in order to keep from falling on his face. “Your job is just as safe today as it was before Emerald, Inc. bought this firm.”

She pushed her glasses back up her nose with a brush of her hand. “You say that now, but it’s a well-known fact that within six months of any takeover there’s always a shake-up.”

“That might happen with a hostile buyout, but Emerald Larson bought this company with Frank Skerritt and Martin Crowe’s blessings. They both wanted to retire, but neither of them had family members who wanted to take the reins of the firm.”

As he watched her nibble on her lower lip while she considered his words, he found himself wondering if her perfectly shaped lips were as soft and sweet as they looked. Swallowing hard, he decided that he’d better keep his mind on business and off the fact that Ms. Merrick had the most kissable mouth he’d seen in a very long time.

“I’ll be—” he stopped to clear the rust from his throat before he continued “—making a few small changes here and there. But as far as I’m concerned, the only way any of the employees will lose their job is if they up and quit.”

“We’ll see,” she said softly.

Her expression was completely neutral and gave no indication of what she was thinking. But Caleb knew she wasn’t buying his assurances for a minute.

Deciding that he’d probably have more luck convincing a pack of wolves to become vegetarians than he would getting A. J. Merrick to believe her job was secure, Caleb took a deep breath and stood up. “I think I’ll mosey on out of here and introduce myself to a few of our people.”

“But what about the meeting I have set up for tomorrow morning at ten, Mr. Walker?” she asked as she rose from her chair.

Was that a hint of panic he detected in her wide blue eyes?

Interesting. It appeared that any break with tradition threw A. J. Merrick for a loop. He’d have to remember that.

“The name’s Caleb.” He shrugged. “The meeting is still on. I’ll just use it to outline a few of the policy changes I intend to make and explain my plan of action.”

He noticed the white-knuckled grip she had on her ink pen and, without thinking, reached across the desk to place his hand on hers in a reassuring manner. But the moment his palm touched her satiny skin, a charge of electricity zinged up his arm and quickly spread throughout his chest. Her startled gasp told him that she felt it, too.

Quickly moving his hand, he tried to appear nonchalant about the gesture. But considering his insides were still tingling like he’d grabbed hold of a 220-volt wire, that was mighty damned hard.

“Relax, Ms. Merrick,” he said, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. Surely he didn’t need to get laid so badly that he’d started getting turned on by merely touching a woman’s hand. “Not only do you have my word that your job’s safe, I promise that what I have in mind will improve employee morale and increase productivity.”

At least, that’s what he hoped to accomplish. Considering he didn’t know beans from buckshot about running this or any other company, he’d just have to operate on the trial-and-error system, refer to the management manual he’d picked up at a bookstore and hope for the best.

She defensively folded her arms beneath her breasts and simply stared at him. “I suppose I’ll have to take your word on that.”

“I guess you will,” he said, walking toward the door. He needed to put some distance between them in order to regain his perspective. He was here to take over the consulting firm, not try to figure out why this woman’s reluctance to believe him bothered the hell out of him. Or why he was starting to get turned on by staring into her pretty blue eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Ms. Merrick.”

“C-Caleb?” She stumbled over his name, but the sound of it on her soft voice did a real number on his neglected hormones.

His hand on the doorknob, he turned back to face her. “Yes, Ms. Merrick?”

“I suppose since you insist that I use your first name, you might as well call me A.J.”

“Okay, A.J.” He smiled. Maybe they were making progress after all. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

A.J. watched the door close behind Caleb Walker a moment before her trembling legs folded and she collapsed into her leather executive chair. Why was her heart racing? And why did her skin still tingle from his touch?

She removed her glasses and buried her face in her hands. What on earth had come over her? She never had been, nor would ever be the type of woman who let a handsome man divert her attention from what was important. At least not since the fiasco with Wesley Pennington III. He’d taught her a valuable lesson, and one that she couldn’t afford to forget—mixing business with pleasure was a fool’s game, one that ultimately led to disaster.

Normally, it wasn’t even an issue. Since losing her heart, her virginity and her first job due to her naiveté, she’d made it a point to do everything she could to appear as professional as possible. It kept things simple and helped to reinforce her strict policy of keeping coworkers at arm’s length. And it had worked well.

Most people, and especially men, were put off by her all-business demeanor and didn’t bother taking a second glance at her. And that suited her just fine. But Caleb Walker had not only looked twice, he’d focused his disturbing hazel gaze on her from the moment he’d walked into her office.

A tiny tremor coursed through her. He had a way of looking at her that made her more aware of her femininity than she’d ever been in her life. And that was what made him dangerous.

Shaking her head, she tried not to think about the wild fluttering in her lower stomach that she’d experienced when Caleb had smiled at her, and concentrated on the fact that he was her new boss. He was here to take over Skerritt and Crowe and eventually replace her with one of his own people. And even though he’d assured her that wasn’t the case, she knew better. Everything she’d worked to achieve in the past five years was about to go down the drain and she was powerless to stop it.

She put her glasses back on and swiveled the chair around to stare out the plate-glass windows. Blindly watching the late-June sun bathe downtown Albuquerque with its warm afternoon rays, she fought the urge to cry. She had a feeling that Caleb Walker was going to turn her structured, well-ordered world upside down. And there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop him.

There was no telling what kinds of changes he intended to implement or just how quickly he’d decide she was dispensable. And the most upsetting aspect of all was the fact that all she could think about was how intense his hazel eyes were, how his light brown hair hanging low on his forehead made him look more like a rebel than a businessman. And how the combination of his deep baritone and sexy Southern accent made her insides hum.

“Don’t be a fool,” she muttered, turning back to her desk.

She wasn’t interested in Caleb Walker any more than he was interested in her. But as she stared at the documents on her desk, she couldn’t stop thinking about how broad his shoulders looked in his chambray shirt, how his jeans fit him like a second skin or how her hand still tingled where he’d touched her.

When a tiny moan of frustration escaped, she quickly stuffed the pile of accounting reports she’d been reviewing into her briefcase, grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer of the desk and headed for the door. “I’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day,” she told Geneva as she rushed past her.

A.J. didn’t wait for the startled receptionist’s reaction to her atypical behavior. She didn’t have time to worry about that now. She needed to get to her apartment before the cool persona she’d perfected over the years slipped away and she revealed what only her parakeet, Sidney, knew about her.

Alyssa Jane Merrick wasn’t the cold, emotionless automaton everyone at Skerritt and Crowe thought her to be. She was a living, breathing woman who collected whimsical figurines, shed buckets of tears over sentimental or touching moments, and feared failure more than anything else.

As she walked across the parking lot, she quickened her steps and trotted the distance to her sensible black sedan. She was less than a split second away from doing one of two things. She was going to either let loose with a scream loud enough to wake the dead or start crying like a baby. Neither one was acceptable behavior for her professional image.

Unlocking the driver’s door, she threw her briefcase inside, slid behind the steering wheel and closed her eyes. She counted to ten, then twenty as she struggled with her emotions. For the first time in five years, she was close to losing the tight grip she had always held on herself whenever she was at work. And that was something she simply couldn’t afford to let happen.

She had never, nor would she ever allow any of these people to see her lose control. Not only would it be a serious breach of her professionalism, but her late father would come back to haunt her for doing something so typically female.

From the time she’d been old enough to listen, her career-military father had stressed how important it was not to let her enemies see any sign of weakness. And there was no doubt about it, Caleb Walker posed a serious threat to her professional demeanor. But he was also the best-looking enemy she’d ever seen.

Two

“The first thing I want to do this morning is assure all of you that your jobs are secure,” Caleb said, addressing the directors and department managers. He made it a point to look directly at A. J. Merrick. “Contrary to standard corporate practice, I have no intention of letting anyone go in favor of bringing in my own people. The only way you’re going to lose your job is if you make the decision to quit.”

The doubt he detected in her blue gaze stated quite clearly that she still didn’t believe him. What he couldn’t figure out was why it mattered to him that she trust him. If their collective sigh of relief was any indication, the rest of the occupants in the room did. What made her opinion of him so damned important?

Deciding not to dwell on the mystery of why her doubts bothered him, Caleb turned his attention back to outlining his plans for the company. “I’ve reviewed the quarterly reports for the last fiscal year and although growth is slow, it has been steady.” He grinned. “And as my grandpa Walker always said, ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’ That’s why I won’t be making changes in the daily operations of the company.” At least not until I can take a few business courses and figure out what the hell I’m doing.

“I like the way your grandpa thinks,” Malcolm Fuller said, nodding.

Caleb chuckled. “I’m glad that meets with your approval, Malcolm.” He’d met the older man the day before and they’d instantly hit it off. Malcolm reminded Caleb of Henry Walker, his late grandpa—filled with country wisdom and more than willing to speak his mind.

When Caleb noticed several raised eyebrows and the exchange of curious glances between the other department heads seated at the big oval conference table, he frowned. Apparently all of the employees at Skerritt and Crowe were as unaccustomed to the laid-back, informal approach to management as A. J. Merrick was.

Taking a deep breath, he figured there was no time like the present to shake things up and see how receptive the management team was to the changes he did have planned. “Although I don’t intend to adjust the operating procedures, I do plan to make a few improvements to the work atmosphere around here.”

“What did you have in mind, Mr. Walker?” Ed Bentley asked, looking more than a little nervous.

“The first thing we’re going to do is drop the formalities.” Caleb gave them all a smile he hoped would put their minds at ease. “Don’t you think it’s pretty silly to work with someone eight hours a day, day in and day out and not use their given name?” Before they could react, he went on. “We’ll naturally continue to give our clients the respect they deserve and address them in a formal manner. But I want you all to feel free to be on a first-name basis with me, as well as each other.”

The men and women at the table began to smile. Everyone, except A.J. Her clasped hands resting on the table in front of her had tightened into a white-knuckled knot, indicating that she strongly disagreed with his decision.

Why would she object to doing away with an outdated tradition? Hadn’t she learned in college that a more relaxed environment encouraged teamwork and raised productivity? Hell, he’d found that little tidbit of information on the Internet, so it couldn’t be that big a secret.

“You want us to call you Caleb?” Maria Santos asked hesitantly.

Grinning, he turned his attention to the director of the payroll department. “That’s my name, Maria.”

“What other changes do you have planned…Caleb?” one of the other men asked.

“Effective immediately, there’s an open-door policy between upper management and the workers on the floor.” He paused to let them digest his statement. “I want every employee we have, no matter what their position, to feel comfortable with bringing problems and complaints to our attention, as well as sharing ways to improve morale and bring in new clients.”

“You’ve got a lot of good ideas,” Joel McIntyre, the head of the billing department, said, nodding his approval. “Is there anything else?”

“As a matter of fact there is, Joel.” Caleb smiled. He was sure the last couple of changes he was about to announce would be welcomed by everyone, including A. J. Merrick. “Since most of our business is conducted over the phone and through the Internet, I don’t see any reason why we can’t relax the dress code around here. I’ll still expect you to dress accordingly when you meet with one of our clients, but from now on you’re all free to wear whatever you like.” He chuckled. “That is, as long as it’s decent and doesn’t look like something you’d put on to clean out the barn.”

He laughed out loud when several of the men immediately reached up to remove their ties and unfasten the top button of their shirts. “I guess this means everyone is in favor of doing away with the dress code.”

When he glanced at A.J. his smile faded. Well, almost everyone.

“Is that all?” she asked tightly. She stared straight at him and it was as clear as a cloudless sky that she wasn’t happy.

None of the other department heads seemed to notice that the operations manager was even in the same room with them, let alone less than enthusiastic about his ideas. But Caleb had been aware of her presence from the moment she’d sat down in the chair at the far end of the conference table. He’d hoped that once she heard what he had planned she’d find his ideas to be innovative or at least be open to giving them a chance.

Unfortunately, she looked even more unhappy than she had yesterday afternoon when he’d walked into her office and announced who he was. But more troubling than her lack of enthusiasm was his reaction to her reluctance. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to walk over to her, take her in his arms and reassure her that the changes he planned to make would be of benefit to everyone.

He shook his head, as much to dispel his disturbing thoughts as to let her know he had more plans in the works. “I have one more announcement before I let you all get back to work.” Tearing his gaze from A.J., he forced his attention to the others seated around the table. “On Monday, there will be a seminar for all managers to learn team-building techniques. Then, once a month, the firm will pick up the tab for you and all of the people in your department to take a Friday off and put what you’ve learned into action.”

“This is where we go on picnics, play golf and things like that to build communication skills and encourage interaction with our coworkers, isn’t it?” Joel asked, sounding excited by the possibilities.

“That’s the plan,” Caleb said, nodding. At least others could see his objective, even if A.J. couldn’t. “There’s no reason we can’t have fun while we develop a tight, efficient team.” Smiling, he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. He’d given them enough to digest for one day. In the next week or so, he’d shake things up a little more. “Now, what do you say we all get back to work and make some money.”

As the meeting broke up and her coworkers surrounded Caleb to express their enthusiasm for the changes he’d be making, A.J. escaped to the sanctuary of her office. Closing the door behind her, she leaned up against it as she struggled to breathe. She felt as if she were about to suffocate on the myriad of emotions racing through her. In less than an hour, Caleb Walker had single-handedly destroyed every reason she had for working at Skerritt and Crowe. And he didn’t even realize it.

He thought he was doing everyone a favor by improving the quality of their work atmosphere. And she had to admit that what he planned would probably motivate the employees and breathe new life into the firm.

But she’d purposely chosen to accept the position with Skerritt and Crowe, instead of at a more modern financial group, because of the formalities and old-fashioned approach to management. It enabled her to focus all of her attention on her job and kept the people she worked with at a safe distance.

Pushing away from the door, she walked around her desk and sank into the high-backed leather chair. Although she wasn’t antisocial by nature, she’d learned the hard way to keep her coworkers at arm’s length. It was the only sure way to guard herself against betrayal and the emotional pain that accompanied it.

But what frustrated and confused her more than anything else was her reaction to Caleb. The entire time he’d been outlining the ways he intended to destroy her safety net, all she’d been able to think about was how handsome he was and how his deep Southern drawl made her insides hum.

Barely resisting the urge to let loose with a scream that was sure to send Geneva Wallace into cardiac arrest, A.J. turned to her computer screen and opened the file containing her résumé. There was no longer any question about it. Her days as operations manager at Skerritt and Crowe were numbered and she’d do well to start looking for another job.

“A.J., could you come in here?” Caleb’s voice invading her office through the intercom caused her stomach to flutter wildly. “I have something I need to talk over with you.”

What could he possibly want now? Hadn’t he done enough in the past hour to turn her world upside down?

Sighing, she depressed the talk button. “I’m working on something at the moment. Could we postpone the discussion until this afternoon?” He didn’t need to know that she was updating her résumé or that she planned on finding another job. When silence reigned, she pushed the button again. “Mr. Walker? Caleb?”

She gasped when the door connecting their offices opened and he strolled into the room.

“Sorry if I startled you, but I’m a face-to-face kind of guy,” he said, grinning. “I like to look a person in the eye when I’m talking to them.”

The sound of his voice and his sexy grin sent a shiver streaking up her spine and had her wondering what else he liked to do face-to-face. Her breath caught and she did her best to hide her shock at the direction her wayward thoughts had taken.

“What did you want to discuss, Mr.—”

He raised one dark eyebrow at the same time he cleared his throat.

Resigned, she closed the computer file containing her résumé. “What did you want to discuss…Caleb?”

He smiled his approval. “I think I’ve come across another way to improve employee morale.”

Just what she wanted to hear, she thought disgustedly, another cockamamy idea that would no doubt increase her anxiety level.

She trained her gaze on his forehead to keep from looking directly into his startling hazel eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m thinking about turning the break room into a ‘family room.’”

A.J.’s mouth dropped open and her gaze flew to his. “Excuse me?”

“Better watch that.” He chuckled. “You might catch a fly.”

She snapped her mouth shut. Didn’t he take anything seriously?

“Would you care to explain what you mean when you use the term family room?” she asked, rubbing at the sudden pounding in her temples.

“I’m thinking couches, coffee tables and a big-screen TV,” he said, looking thoughtful. “When our employees take their breaks, they should be able to relax and enjoy the few minutes they have away from the job.”

“If you make it too comfortable, they’ll go to sleep,” A.J. said before she could stop herself.

She hadn’t meant to be so blunt. But facts were facts and he might as well be aware of them right up front.

He grinned. “Nothing wrong with a little power nap now and then. Studies have shown that it gives most people a second wind.”

She’d seen the research and couldn’t argue with the findings, but that didn’t mean she agreed with them. “Are you wanting to know what I think of the idea?” she asked cautiously.

“Not really.” He gave her a smile that warmed her all the way to her toes. “But I would like your help putting the project into action.”

Her first inclination was to refuse his request. But to her amazement, she found herself asking, “What do you want me to do?”

“I’d really appreciate your input on what colors and style of furniture to use.” His expression turned sheepish. “I’m not real up on this decorating stuff.”

Oh, he was good. He knew just when to turn up the wattage on that smile and use his boyish charm to get exactly what he wanted. Fortunately, she was immune to such tactics.

“What makes you think I’m any better?”

“I don’t.” He shrugged. “But I need a woman’s perspective. The room needs to be comfortable for both men and women. If I try to do it entirely on my own, it’ll end up looking like a sports bar.”

“Why don’t you get Mrs. Wallace to help you?” A.J. hedged. “I’ve heard her say she never misses that television show where friends redecorate each other’s rooms.”

“I have Geneva busy heading up another project,” he said, grinning.

“You do?” Good Lord, what on earth had he charmed their stodgy sixty-year-old secretary into doing?

“I’ve given her a five-thousand-dollar budget for uniforms and equipment and put her in charge of organizing our sports teams.”

A.J. couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Nope.” His smile intensified. “Depending on the amount of interest among the employees, we’re going to have bowling and volleyball teams this winter and a softball team next summer.”

“You do realize this consulting firm is comprised of accountants and financial analysts, don’t you?” She shook her head in disbelief. “That’s not exactly the material jocks are made of.”

He shook his head. “I don’t care if we have winning teams. I’m more interested in creating an overall sense of unity among the employees.” Rising to his feet, he stretched and started walking toward the door to his office. “You’ve got the weekend to give some thought to what we can do to the break room, then we’ll go over your ideas next week.”

As she watched him close the door behind himself, A.J. groaned. From the time she’d been old enough to understand, her father had preached the military mantra of structure and order. He’d said they were essential for a successful life. Captain John T. Merrick had believed it, had lived by it and had insisted that his daughter adhere to it. He’d even chosen the boarding school she’d attended after the death of her mother because of its strict code of conduct and rigid set of rules. And the one and only time she’d deviated from the path her father had set her on, she’d ended up in the middle of a humiliating workplace scandal.

But she’d survived because that’s what her late father would have expected her to do. It had been extremely difficult, but she’d picked up the pieces of her shattered pride, became a born-again virgin and found her present job at Skerritt and Crowe. And she’d been—if not happy—content for the past five years.

Unfortunately, it seemed that contentment had come to an end with the arrival of Caleb Walker. When he’d strolled into her office yesterday afternoon with his good-old-boy attitude and devastating good looks to announce he was taking over the firm, she felt as if she’d been tossed into a vortex. He represented everything in life she’d been taught to approach with caution, if not avoid altogether. He was innovative in the way he approached management and his ideas were unorthodox and, unless she’d missed her guess, for the most part spontaneous.

So why did her pulse pound and air feel as if it were in short supply whenever they were in the same room? Why did his sexy Southern drawl send sparks of electric current over every nerve in her body? And why did the sight of his wide shoulders and slender hips cause her body to hum with a restlessness like she’d never known before?

Biting her lower lip to stop its trembling, she hastily reopened the computer file containing her résumé. There was absolutely no question about the matter. She had to find another job as soon as possible or risk losing what little sense she had left.

The following Tuesday afternoon, Caleb sat at his desk, wondering what on God’s green earth Emerald Larson had gotten him into. He didn’t have the vaguest idea of how he was supposed to deal with one of Skerritt and Crowe’s best clients. His night classes at the University of New Mexico weren’t scheduled to start until the end of next month. He somehow doubted the business administration courses he’d signed up for would start out covering the interaction with clientele, anyway.

He drummed his fingertips on the desk’s polished surface. He hadn’t been able to find anything on conducting meetings with clients in the management manual, either. The damned thing only covered supervising employees and ways to improve their work environment. It was completely useless for learning how to deal with clients.

But whether Caleb knew what he was doing or not, it didn’t change the fact that Raul Ortiz wanted to meet with him. Caleb had taken over running the financial consulting firm that had helped Ortiz Industries create one of the best employee investment plans in the state, and he suspected that Ortiz wanted to make sure Caleb passed muster.

When he heard A.J.’s voice through the door connecting their offices, Caleb’s spirits lifted. The woman might be driving him crazy trying to figure out what made her tick, but he’d read her personnel file. She really knew her stuff when it came to financial planning and marketing analysis. He’d also discovered that she’d graduated from high school at the age of fifteen and had acquired her master’s degree in investment banking and business administration by the time she was twenty.

If he took her with him when he drove down to Roswell, surely the meeting with Ortiz would work out. He was good with people and A.J. was a whiz at anything to do with accounting and financial planning. Together they should make a hell of a team.

Caleb took a deep breath and rose to his feet. He hated feeling inadequate at anything. But he had decided up front that he was going to have to rely on the people working for him until he took courses and got a basic understanding of the business Emerald had given him. It looked as though that reliance was going to have to start sooner than later.

Opening the door between their offices, he smiled when A.J. glanced at him over the top of her computer screen. “I just got a call from a man down in Roswell,” he said, walking over to slump into the chair in front of her desk. “He claims to be our most satisfied client.”

“That would be Mr. Ortiz,” she answered, nodding. “He’s one of our most valued patrons.”

“That’s what he said.” Caleb chuckled. “I get the idea he’s also one of our most outspoken clients.”

“I’ve never known him to mince words,” she said, pushing her glasses up her pert little nose. The action drew attention to her remarkable eyes and Caleb had to remind himself that he’d entered her office for a reason other than staring into her baby blues.

“So you’ve dealt with him before?”

She nodded. “Mr. Skerritt took care of Ortiz Industries’ employee investment program, but he assigned me to advise Mr. Ortiz on his own personal retirement package. Why do you ask?”

“He wants me to drive down to Roswell tomorrow for a get-acquainted meeting.” Trying to sound nonchalant, Caleb added, “I’ve decided I’ll take you with me.”

“Me?” Her eyes widened behind her oversize glasses and the panic he saw in their depths reminded him of a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Was the thought of spending time with him that upsetting?

“Is there a problem, A.J.?”

“Why? I mean, I can’t possibly—” She suddenly closed her mouth and simply stared at him.

As he returned her gaze, Caleb did his best to keep his attention on the issue at hand and off her perfectly shaped lips. “I realize this is on the spur of the moment, but I don’t see that we have any other choice. Since I’ve just taken over here, I don’t know diddly-squat about Ortiz or our business with him. And until I’m up to speed on the individual accounts of our clients, I’d rather not run the risk of losing them.”

His argument made sense to him. He just hoped it sounded reasonable to her.

Watching her nibble on her lower lip as she mulled over what he’d said, it was all he could do to keep from groaning. Why did he suddenly find her mouth so damned fascinating? Hadn’t he learned a damn thing about professional, career-minded women?

“What time is the meeting?” she asked.

Was it his imagination or was there a slight tremor in her voice?

“Ortiz wants to give me a tour of the manufacturing plant tomorrow afternoon, then have dinner around six or seven.”

“It would be too late for us to drive back tomorrow evening and I have two phone meetings early the next morning.” She sounded extremely relieved when she added, “I’m sorry, but I really think my going with you would be impossible. We’ve been courting these potential clients for several months and there’s the possibility of losing them if I reschedule the calls.”

He wasn’t about to give up that easily. “Where are they located?”

“Mr. Sanchez is in Las Cruces and Mrs. Bailey is in Truth or Consequences.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“If I remember my high-school geography, those two places aren’t that far from Roswell,” he said, thinking fast. “Call and tell them we’ll be in their area day after tomorrow and that we’d like to meet with them in person. It’ll show that we’d really like to work for them, as well as free you up to go to Roswell with me. Then we’ll drive back after dinner Thursday evening.” Deciding to beat a hasty retreat before she could find another excuse, he headed for the door. “I’ll come by your place around ten in the morning.”

“Th-that won’t be necessary,” she said, stopping him. When he turned back, she added, “I have to come in tomorrow morning to tie up a few loose ends. We can leave from here.”

Caleb could tell she wasn’t happy, but that couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t particularly proud of having to rely on her expertise to keep from looking like a fool in front of a client.

“Fair enough,” he said, nodding. “I’ll have Geneva make a reservation for tomorrow night in Roswell.”

“That should be reservations—plural—as in two rooms.”

“Of course.”

Heading out the door to speak with their secretary, Caleb couldn’t help but grin. He clearly made A. J. Merrick as nervous as the parents of a four-year-old talking to the preacher after Sunday services.

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