Private Parts

Bestselling author Tori Carrington introduces PRIVATE SCANDALS, a new series filled with lust, betrayal … and scandal like you’ve never seen it!

When Troy, Ari and Bryna Metaxas realize their business—and family—is on the brink of ruin, how far will they go to save them?

Find out in …

Private Sessions

(October 2011)

Private Affairs

(November 2011)

Private Parts (December 2011)

About the Author

Multi-award-winning, bestselling authors Lori Schlachter Karayianni and Tony Karayianni are the power behind the pen name TORI CARRINGTON. Their more than forty-five titles include numerous Blaze® novels as well as the ongoing Sofie Metropolis comedic mystery series with another publisher. Visit www.toricarrington.net and www.sofiemetro.com for more information on the duo and their titles.

Private Parts

Tori Carrington

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader,

Our PRIVATE SCANDALS series was inspired by Homer’s epic poem, The Iliad; the three stories a modern retelling of age-old conflicts, where love is the ultimate prize … and battles are fought in the bedroom, as well as the boardroom. And nowhere is that truer than in this final book …

In Private Parts, the last thing hot businessman Troy Metaxas wants is a sexy woman custom-made to drive him mad with desire. He’s been so focused on his goal of bringing his hometown of Earnest, Washington, back from the brink of ruin that his personal life has gone long neglected. Kendall is Troy’s match in every way, fueling his appetite for her lush body with every kiss. The problem is, the more time he spends in bed with her, the less focused he is on business. Especially when he discovers that she is the Trojan horse sent to bring him down …

We hope you enjoy Troy and Kendall’s bone-melting journey toward sexily-ever-after. We’d love to hear what you think. Contact us at PO Box 12271, Toledo, OH 43612, USA (we’ll respond with a signed bookplate, newsletter and bookmark), or visit us on the web at www.toricarrington.net.

Here’s wishing you love, romance and HOT reading.

Lori & Tony Karayianni aka Tori Carrington

We dedicate this book to every man who believes himself immune to love—and every woman who’s endeavored to prove him wrong … And to our magnificent editor, Brenda Chin, who feels it necessary every now and again to warn us to be careful about boundaries, even as she wholeheartedly cheers us on while we push against them!

1

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK he’s not just asking us to bend over so he can stick it in and break it off?”

Troy Metaxas stared at his younger brother across the diner table, his cup halfway to his mouth. Trust Ari to phrase the question that way.

He put his coffee down and sat back in the red leather booth. The Quality Diner was decked out for the coming holidays, with the struggling owner partial to the more whimsical themes of snowflakes and icicles, probably because they saw so little of either here in the Pacific Northwest. A white, papier-mâché angel hung above their booth, lazily spinning first one way and then the other.

He’d be lying if he said the possibility that Manolis Philippidis was planning to do just as Ari was suggesting hadn’t crossed his mind. It had. At least a thousand times a day. But ever since the wealthy Greek businessman had reestablished contact with him a week ago, offering an olive branch on top of the contract that Troy had been trying to close … well, he’d been forced to listen.

He knew what he was getting into. But this project was important to him. After the family lumber mill closed over four years ago, he’d felt responsible for providing the town of Earnest with another employer. Then luck had met persistence and he’d come across an idea worth pursuing in emerging green technology. The solar panels the new company would produce would not only revolutionize the industry by capturing a wider array of the sun’s rays, the thin-film method was also cost-saving, meaning more could afford the product.

A win-win situation all the way around.

He considered his brother. “So long as we finally get the project off the ground, what does it matter?”

“So your advice is to smile and take it?”

“That would be exactly my advice.” He leaned forward. “Take a look around you, Ari. The unemployment rate in Earnest has risen to nearly thirty-five percent. And that doesn’t count the residents forced to leave because they’ve lost their homes or had to relocate to find work.”

He watched his brother look around the interior of the diner. It was a Wednesday morning and there were only a few people inside where once it would have been full of lumber mill workers catching breakfast before heading to work. Hell, five years ago, the midnight shift would just be knocking off and doing the same before going home.

“Half the businesses outside this diner have closed, with another quarter in danger of doing the same,” he said. “Don’t you think the town’s worth a little discomfort?”

He didn’t mention the exact reason for the collapse in negotiations between Philippidis and the Metaxas brothers six months ago. He didn’t have to. Because the reason sat across from him. Ari’s seduction and then stealing of Philippidis’s bride on the evening before their wedding was the reason why the vital business arrangement had gone awry.

Even though it all seemed like yesterday to him, he had to keep in mind that Ari was now engaged to Elena Anastasios, and that she was entering into her third trimester with their child. No longer Philippidis’s stolen bride, but Troy’s soon-to-be sister-in-law and mother to his niece or nephew.

Ari shook his head now, as if in answer to his unsaid thoughts. “Considering all that no good SOB has done to us over this past half year, I would think the last thing we would want is to get into bed with him.”

Troy didn’t blink.

Ari raised his hands as if in surrender. “Okay, bad analogy. But you know what I mean. Who’s to say this isn’t just another set-up? That he’s not going to string us along, get us to invest the few cents we have left, and then pull the rug out from under us again?”

“Who’s to say he is?”

Ari remained dubious.

“Look, we’ve exhausted every other possibility. It’s either this or we give up on the project altogether. That’s not an option for me.” Troy sipped from his coffee, the unsweetened liquid bitter against his tongue. “Anyway, we know who we’re dealing with this time. And we’re prepared for anything he can possibly throw our way.”

Ari looked at his watch. Troy was as anxious as he was for the other three men scheduled to join them for breakfast to arrive. Because it meant that they were that much closer to the meeting they were to have with Philippidis at the mill offices later that morning.

The old cowbell above the door clanged. Troy glanced over his shoulder. It wasn’t any of their three breakfast mates. It was a woman in black, close-fitting running pants and an oversize University of Oregon sweatshirt, looking more fit than he felt, her blond hair twisted into a knot at the back of her neck. She stripped the sweatshirt off, revealing the clingy tank she wore underneath.

Troy’s gaze drifted over her nicely outlined curves. From her calves, up past her firm thighs, her rounded hips and then to where her breasts were two perfect half-globes under the damp fabric.

“Good morning!” Verna called out from the kitchen window. “Take a seat anywhere.”

The latest addition was slightly out of breath as she voiced her thanks and chose the booth behind Troy, causing his seat to jostle a bit. He nearly spilled the coffee he was holding.

“Sorry,” she said.

“No problem.”

Troy looked to find Ari grinning at him.

“What?”

His brother shook his head. “Did I say anything? Because I don’t think I did.”

Troy grimaced. Since when had it become a crime to appreciate a woman’s form? Especially seeing as it had been so long since he’d allowed himself the luxury. That and there hadn’t been much opportunity. When you lived in the same small town you’d grown up in, and knew just about everyone, it was hard to stare at a woman’s breasts and think of anything having to do with sex. It seemed a bit too … incestuous somehow, considering you knew her husband and kids and her parents and grandparents, not to mention that she used to wear braces or had a habit of drinking one beer too many on Friday nights at the pub.

Although he did have to admit he’d found himself doing exactly that lately, ogling the locals. How long had it been since he’d been on a proper date? Screw proper, when was the last time he’d lost himself in the scent of a woman’s neck? Buried himself in her sweet flesh? Far longer than he cared to admit. And his body was apparently no longer willing to allow him to ignore it.

Just as soon as he got this contract nailed down, he’d dust off his little black book and call up a willing female or two in Seattle and go out on a date, he promised himself.

“Oh, you are in a sorry state, aren’t you?” Ari asked. “How long has it been, anyway?” His dark brows rose high on his forehead. “Please don’t tell me since Gail.”

Troy squinted at him and leaned forward, indicating that he should lower his voice. With so few customers in the place, there was little doubt the woman behind him had heard what his brother had said.

“Later,” he muttered.

“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it, bro? It’s always later with you.” Ari leaned forward as well, but he didn’t lower his voice. “Face it, you need to get laid.”

The woman coughed. Troy looked to find her in the middle of sipping a glass of water, the contents of which she nearly spewed across the table in front of her.

“Cute,” he muttered. “Very cute.”

“Just sayin’,” Ari said with a shrug.

Diner owner Verna Burns, who was also serving as the waitress, approached the woman’s table and offered her coffee from the pot she held. Judging by the sounds, the woman accepted.

“Oh, Ari?” Verna said. “Thank Elena for that platter of baklava for me, will you? It was gone within a blink. Everyone loves it.”

Before his brother could tell her he would pass on her sentiments to his fiancée, the telephone began ringing in the back of the diner. Verna hurried off to answer it with an apology.

“Elena’s making baklava for the diner?” Troy asked.

Ari’s grin disappeared. “She’s still interested in buying the place.”

“And apparently you’re still against it.”

“We’re going to have a baby in three months. How is she going to handle that and this place?”

“Women have been balancing both since the beginning of time, Ari.”

“Yeah, well.”

Troy felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to look into their neighbor’s amused face. Her green eyes were bright, her cheeks brushed with color, her mouth full and smiling. “I’m sorry. Can I bother you for a little sugar?” she asked.

Oh, he’d like to give her a little sugar, all right.

“Sure.” Troy picked up the container and handed it to her, noting that her nails were neat and manicured, white half moons on the tips.

“Thanks.”

He refused to look at Ari as he turned back, but couldn’t ignore his quiet chuckle.

“Not a word,” he muttered.

“Pardon me?” the woman asked.

“What? Oh. I’m sorry. I was talking to my brother.”

“I see. I’m sorry to bother you again, but is that fresh cream there on your table? If it is, it’s much better than this powdered stuff.”

It took Troy a moment to process her request. When he reached for the cream, Ari was holding it out for him. He took it and nearly spilled the contents on the woman because he wasn’t paying attention.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No harm, no foul,” she said with that same knowing smile.

“Good going, hot shot,” his brother said.

Troy glared at him.

The woman again. “I suppose since we’re having coffee together, I might as well introduce myself.” She held out a slender hand. “Kendall Banks.”

He shook her hand. “Troy Metaxas. This is my brother Ari. Although I’m considering disowning him.”

She laughed as she shook Ari’s hand, as well.

“Ah, the famous Metaxas brothers. Nice to meet you both.”

“Are you from here?” Ari asked, much to Troy’s chagrin.

“No, no. Just visiting your fine town.”

“Staying at Foss’s Bed and Breakfast?”

“Yes. How did you know? Oh. Never mind. It’s probably the only place in town, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Where are you from?” Ari asked.

“Portland.”

Troy wanted to reach across and stuff a paper napkin in his brother’s mouth, anything to keep him from continuing the conversation.

“I’ll let you two get back to your breakfast. Oh, wait.” She held out the cream and sugar. “You can have these back. Thank you.”

“Sure,” Troy said, putting them back on the table.

Something outside the window thankfully caught Ari’s attention. “Is that Palmer?”

Troy followed his gaze to see Palmer DeVoe, one of the three due to meet them for breakfast, along with Caleb Payne and Graham Johnson, the company’s longtime attorney, coming out of Penelope Weaver’s shop. He was grinning and shaking his head as he stopped on the sidewalk. Then he glanced in the direction of the diner and began crossing the street.

Palmer came inside and Troy stood to greet him, shaking hands with the man he’d once played varsity football with, but more recently had been his business adversary. Until Palmer had closed down his operation and offered to come on board with them.

Troy was convinced that the latest of Philippidis’s key players to jump ship was to credit for the Greek’s about-face. Well, that and the fact that Caleb Payne’s mother, whom Philippidis had recently been dating, had reportedly dumped him when her son objected to the union.

Whatever the reason, Troy was glad for the chance to reunify with the Greek. The way he saw it, it was better to have him as a wary friend than an angry enemy. Philippidis had thrown up so many roadblocks in their efforts to secure funding to convert the lumber mill into a manufacturing plant that would produce solar panels, he’d almost abandoned all hope.

Then Philippidis had contacted him and asked for a meeting to see if they couldn’t finally work things out.

The offer couldn’t have come at a better time.

Palmer nodded toward the woman behind Troy as he sat down in the booth next to him.

Ari grinned. Troy grimaced.

“Where are Caleb and Graham?” Palmer asked, taking the hint.

“They should be here any minute.” There was a glint of sunlight off metal. “Speak of the devils. I think they just pulled up.” “Good,” Troy said.

The sooner they were on with this, the better …

2

THREE HOURS LATER, TROY stood in his office, the telephone plastered to his ear. He was trying to convince a supplier to wait one week longer for the go-ahead on an order he’d placed half a year ago.

Barely visible to him were his surroundings.

He’d grown up in the old lumber mill. Had hid under the metal desk to his right that once belonged to his father and his grandfather before him. Had pressed his nose against the glass walls on three sides of the office, and written his name in the fog circle of condensation from his breath on the multi-paned windows through which thick forests could be seen. Had played on the iron-wrought catwalk and stairs that overlooked the open mill space below—a large area that used to buzz with activity but was now quiet, the old equipment kept more for sentimental reasons than any real use.

Every now and again Troy would catch the scent of wood chips, reminding him of times gone by. But mostly he was too focused on the future to notice it or much about his surroundings.

“I’m going to have to go up on the price,” the sales rep said.

Troy rubbed his closed eyelids. When he opened them back up, his gaze fell on the Christmas card he’d received in today’s mail. From his ex-girlfriend, Gail. And his ex-best friend, Ray. Who were now a married couple sending out holiday cards together.

“Look,” he said into the phone. “My secretary is motioning me into a meeting. Let me get back to you later today or early tomorrow …”

He quickly wrapped up the call and stood for a long moment trying to regain his bearings while he stared at the Christmas card. Lately, his days were full of like phone conversations. And they were beginning to take a toll on him. He’d talked his way around, out of and into so many corners he’d considered investing in a sledgehammer.

“You ready?” Ari asked from the open doorway, standing alongside Patience, his secretary.

Troy glanced through the glass. The conference room was at the far end of the wide elevated walkway, five glass-walled offices in between, while another five lay on the other side of his own office. Meeting participants were milling around, getting coffee and talking to each other. He hadn’t even noticed them come in. Which was saying something, because they would have had to walk by his office.

His gaze went to Manolis Philippidis, who was the only one sitting. He was drumming his fingers against the table and looking at his watch.

Troy tossed the unopened greeting card into the wastebasket, accepted a file from Patience and followed his brother to the meeting room.

After greeting everyone else, he finally stood in front of Philippidis. He extended his hand, half expecting the Greek to ignore him. Instead, he was surprised when he got to his feet and returned the handshake.

“Let’s do business,” Troy said, feeling twenty pounds lighter as he took his seat at the head of the table.

“Sorry I’m late,” a female voice said from the doorway.

Troy looked up to see a beautiful, leggy blonde enter the conference room. A familiar beautiful, leggy blonde.

He nearly fell into his chair as the woman who had introduced herself as Kendall Banks earlier at the diner shook hands with Philippidis and then the rest of the table before presenting herself to him.

Outside of her name, it was the sexy smile that linked her to the woman he’d met earlier. Otherwise, she looked completely different. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, a warm, golden blonde.

She wore makeup that accentuated her green eyes and complemented her naughty mouth, but didn’t overwhelm her pretty face. And she’d exchanged her running pants and tank for a plum-colored suit with a short skirt, her long legs made longer still by the black heels she wore.

Troy found himself tugging at his collar as he took her hand.

“Hello again,” she said with the hint of a smile.

Suddenly, his collar wasn’t the only item of clothing that had grown tight.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said to the room at large, tugging her gaze from his and walking around the table to the only free seat. “I was pulled over by your local sheriff for speeding and … well, afterward I really needed to speed, but didn’t dare.”

Chuckles and laughs.

“Did Barnaby ticket you?” Ari asked.

Kendall’s smile was wide and unapologetic. “Of course not.”

Philippidis cleared his throat. “Miss Banks will be the point man … or woman, rather, in putting this deal together. Seeing as my regular point men—” he looked over at Palmer and Caleb “—are now working for you.”

Troy couldn’t seem to take his gaze away from Kendall’s face where she’d taken the seat at the far end of the table. The brief arch of her right brow told him she hadn’t known about the little detail her boss had just shared. Did that mean she was also in the dark about the history behind their business dealings?

Ari was the one to clear his throat this time. “Troy?”

He blinked and stared at his brother.

“Oh, yes. Right.” He opened his file and his secretary took her cue and began handing out the notes he’d had printed up. “If you’ll refer to page two, paragraph four …”

THREE HOURS AND A CATERED working lunch later, Kendall lingered at the conference table rewriting notes that didn’t need rewriting while the other meeting attendees left one by one.

Finally, she and Troy were alone in the room.

She slowly closed her leather-bound notebook and sat back in her chair, watching as he walked from the door where he’d just seen off his brother to the window overlooking the grounds to her right.

“Did this used to be a mill?” she asked, appreciating the fit of his navy blue suit, rather than their surroundings.

When they’d met earlier at the diner, she’d been instantly struck by how hot Troy Metaxas was. Intensely so. And his conversation with his brother before the others had arrived had amused her to no end.

So there was no one currently in Mr. Troy Metaxas’s life then? Good news for her. Because there was no one in her life, either. Not after her last boyfriend had taken a powder, saying something about her being too forward for him, too outspoken.

How was she supposed to know that his mother hadn’t been aware that he’d lost his job three months ago?

Well, she did now. And Kendall was currently without a boyfriend. But seeing as they’d only dated for four months, she wasn’t really crying in her chardonnay.

“Yes.” Troy finally answered her question as he turned from the window. “My family owned this lumber mill for nearly a century before closing it for good four years ago.”

She nodded. “I like that you’re holding on to the history.”

She’d moved her chair back from the table and slowly crossed her legs. Troy stood to her right, giving him a bird’s-eye view of her suggestive movements.

He didn’t disappoint as he leisurely took in the line of her legs. She worked hard on them, tried to run at least three miles, four times a week, so she knew they were fantastic. And wasn’t averse to using them to their full advantage.

“So how long have you been working for Philippidis?” he asked.

She raised her brows. “How long? Well, that’s a complicated question.”

He waited.

“You see, I don’t actually work directly for Manolis. He brought me on board especially for this project.”

She didn’t understand his grimace. “And you’ve known him for … how long?”

She rubbed the front of her shoe against the back of her opposite calf. “I’ve been familiar with him for, oh, about eight months or so. He helped my father out with our law firm in Portland.”

“He owns it,” he stated rather than asked.

“Yes. Manolis currently owns it. But my father’s hoping to buy it back at some point.”

“I’d tell him not to hold his breath.”

“Oh, the hostility.” She put her notebook into her briefcase. “I picked up on it during the meeting. What’s the history here?”

Troy scrubbed his hair back from his forehead. The telltale sign made him all the more attractive to her. “It doesn’t matter.”

He looked at her again, but she couldn’t tell if it was because he was interested, or if he’d rather she’d left.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

He gestured toward the table. “I don’t mean to cast a shadow on your qualifications, but—”