Escape for Valentine's: Beauty and the Billionaire / Her One and Only Valentine / The Girl Next Door

Sinclair shook her head.

“The deal would have been lost before they even lined up the legal team.”

“Did you explain that to them?”

He shot her a look. “That was my plan. Until you stepped in.”

“Sorry,” she said again, knowing it would never be enough.

“I know you are.” But he didn’t sound angry. He sounded resigned.

Cars whizzed by on the narrow street, while a contingent of Japanese businessmen amassed on the sidewalk nearby.

“What will you do now?” Sinclair asked.

“That’s entirely up to you.”

“You’re seriously willing to keep this up?”

He nodded. “I am. There may be a lot of yelling from Jack and Gramps over the next few days, but I want to finish what we started.”

“I can handle yelling.”

“Good. You know anything about ballroom dancing?”

“Not much.”

“Then that’s next on our list.” His expression softened. “You are going to take their breath away.”

A knot let go in Sinclair’s stomach.

“Flower for the pretty lady?” came an old woman’s gravelly voice. She held a white rose toward Hunter, her bangles and hoop earrings sparkling against colorful clothing and a bright silk headscarf. “I will tell her fortune.”

Hunter accepted the flower and nodded.

The old woman clasped Sinclair’s hands, her jet-black eyes searching Sinclair’s face. Then she smiled. “Ahhh. Fertility.”

“I’m going to be a farmer?”

The woman revealed a snaggle-toothed smile, her gaze going to Sinclair’s stomach.

Sinclair sure didn’t like the implication of that.

“Trust your heart,” said the old woman.

“I’m not pregnant,” Sinclair pointed out.

The old woman released Sinclair’s hands and touched her chin. “I see wealth and beauty.”

“That’s a whole lot better than fertility,” Sinclair muttered.

Hunter laughed and reached for his wallet.

Sinclair caught the numbers on the bills he passed to the woman. Both hers and the old woman’s eyes went wide.

The woman quickly hustled away.

“Did you know her or something?” Sinclair asked.

“I once knew somebody like her.” Hunter tucked his wallet into his pocket and handed Sinclair the rose.

She held it to her nose and inhaled the sweet fragrance. Hunter wanted her to stay. The relief nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“Somebody like her?” she asked Hunter, inhaling one more time. “I once burned down a gypsy’s tent.” Then he smiled gently at Sinclair.

He swiveled his coffee mug so the handle was facing him. “When I was a teenager, a gypsy at the local circus told my fortune. She said I’d fall for a redheaded girl and have twins.”

Sinclair reflexively touched her hair.

“The thought of twins freaked me out, too. I wanted to be a rock star.”

“So, you burned down her tent?”

“She also said Jack would marry a woman he didn’t trust, and we’d buy a golf course.”

“But, you burned down her tent?” Sinclair repeated.

“It was an accident.”

“You sure?”

He rocked back. “Hey, is there anything about me that strikes you as vindictive?”

“I guess not,” she admitted, a small smile forming on her lips. Heck, he wasn’t even kicking her out for ruining his life.

“It was an accident. And Gramps compensated her fairly. But, I guess I’ve always felt a little guilty.”

“Have you been giving money to random gypsies ever since?”

“It’s not like I come across a lot of them. Alhough …” He pretended to ponder. “I suppose a charitable foundation wouldn’t be out of order.”

“I’m sure they appreciate it.”

Sinclair’s cell phone chimed.

She opened her purse to check the lighted number. “Kristy.”

It chimed again under her hand.

“Better answer it,” Hunter advised. “She’s probably worried.”

“So was I,” Sinclair said over the sound.

His hand covered hers for a brief second. “We’ll talk more.”

Sinclair pressed a button and raised the phone to her ear. “Hey, Kristy.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“And Hunter?”

Sinclair looked at him. “He’s had better mornings.”

“What was he thinking?” There was a clear rebuke in Kristy’s tone. “Going out on his own. Jack says that Hunter was being dangerously cavalier with the family fortune.”

Some protective instinct leapt to life within Sinclair. “He was thinking it was a good deal.”

Hunter shook his head, mouthing the word, “Don’t.”

Sinclair ignored him. “And they might want to look closely at it before they decide it’s a bad risk.”

Hunter stood to lean over the table, but Sinclair turned away, protecting the phone. The least she could do was come down on his side.

“Are you defending him? Did he try to make this your fault? It wasn’t your fault, you know. You were being honest. He was being underhanded.”

“He was being smart.”

There was a shocked silence on the line.

“Are you sleeping with him again?” Kristy demanded.

“None of your business.”

“That’s it. I’m coming to Paris.”

Hunter lunged forward and grabbed the phone from Sinclair’s hands.

“Goodbye,” she quickly called as he snapped it shut.

“Have you lost your mind?” asked Hunter.

“She said you were being underhanded.”

“You can’t fight with your sister over me.”

Sinclair folded her arms over her chest and blew out a breath. “Sure, I can.”

Hunter handed back the phone. “No. You can’t. She’s your sister. Keep your eye on the long game.”

Meaning Hunter was the short game?

“And she loves you,” he said.

“She’s coming to Paris.”

“You want to go to London?”

Sinclair grinned. “We couldn’t.”

Hunter sighed. “You’re right. We couldn’t.”

She caught a figure in her peripheral vision, turning to see Jack pulling up a chair at their table.

“You okay?” he asked Sinclair.

“You’re as bad as Kristy,” Sinclair responded. “What exactly do you think he’d do to me?”

“What did he do?”

“He invited me to go ballroom dancing. We’re getting ready for the Valentine’s Day ball on Thursday.”

Jack shot his gaze to Hunter. “That true?”

“What if it is?”

“I just had a call from Kristy,” said Jack.

“She’s coming to Paris,” announced Sinclair.

Jack nodded. “That’s what she said.” He was still eyeing up Hunter suspiciously. “You’d better sign us up, too.”

After the day they’d had, Hunter wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and hold Sinclair tight in his arms. He’d discovered he hated fighting with her. And he hated that her family and his had decided to protect her from him. Even now, across the floor in the Versailles Ballroom, Kristy was scoping them out, staring daggers at him.

A private jet had whisked her across the Atlantic in time for dinner.

Part of him wanted to thumb his nose at the lot and haul Sinclair away so they could be alone. Another part of him recognized they had legitimate concerns. His efforts to help her had gotten all mixed up with his desire for her.

He didn’t want to hurt her, but he might in the end. The Lush Valentine’s Day ball was only a few days away. He’d make sure she was a smash hit there, but then what?

She’d still work for him. Could they possibly keep sleeping together? Could they keep it a secret? And what did that say about them if they did?

As he guided her through a simple waltz, he considered the possibility that Kristy was right. After all, who would have Sinclair’s best interests at heart more than her twin sister? A twin sister whose thinking wasn’t clouded by passion?

God knew his was clouded by something.

Sinclair had dressed for the evening in a brilliant-red strapless satin gown. When he glanced at her creamy shoulders, the hint of cleavage, and her long, smooth neck, his thoughts were definitely on his own best interest. And that best interest was in peeling the gown off inch by glorious inch to reveal whatever it was she had, or didn’t have, on underneath.

The bodice molded gently over her breasts, it nipped in at her waist, then molded over her bottom, while the full skirt whispered around her gorgeous legs.

“How am I doing?” she asked as the music’s tempo changed.

“Fine,” he told her, forcing his thoughts back to his job as dance instructor. “Ready to try something more?”

She nodded, blue eyes shining up at him, making him wish all over again that he could whisk her away.

He led her into a turn. She stumbled, but he held her up, tightening his hand in the small of her back, filing the sensation away in his brain.

“Sorry,” she told him.

“No problem. Just pay attention to my hand,” he reminded her, demonstrating the touches. “This means left. This means right. Back, and forward.”

He tried the turn again.

She stumbled.

He tried one more time, and this time she succeeded.

But, while she grinned, she fumbled the next step.

He tried not to smile at her efforts. “I can see this is going to take practice.”

“You’re too sudden with your signals. And why do you get to call all the moves?”

“Because I’m the man.”

“That’s lame.”

“And because I know how to dance.”

“Okay, that’s better.”

Someone tapped Hunter on the shoulder. He turned to see Jack, looking to switch partners. Before he knew it, Kristy was in his arms.

“Hello, Hunter.” She smiled, but he could see the glitter of determination behind her eyes.

“Hello, Kristy.”

“I see you’ve spirited my sister away to Paris.”

“I’m helping her out.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“What’s another?” he challenged, keeping half an eye on Jack and Sinclair.

“Why don’t you tell me what your intentions are?”

To have sex with Sinclair—the most amazing woman I’ve ever met—until we can’t see straight. “I don’t know what you mean?” he stalled.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

He did. And that was the problem. His interests and Sinclair’s did not coincide.

“I have no intention of hurting her,” he told Kristy honestly.

“You think Jack intended to hurt me?”

“I think Jack was insane to marry you.”

Kristy’s eyes flashed.

“You know what I mean. He went into it for all the wrong reasons.”

“Unlike you and Sinclair?” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. “She’s going to fall for you, Hunter. You’re wining her and dining her and she’s thinking she’s become a fairy princess. How could she help but fall for you?”

“Point taken.” Hunter tried a turn with Kristy, and she easily followed his lead. But it wasn’t the same as dancing with Sinclair. It was nothing at all like dancing with Sinclair.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“For tonight—” Hunter took a deep breath and made up his mind “—I’m going to switch rooms with you and Jack.”

Kristy and Jack were on a different floor of the hotel. And Hunter knew deep down in his heart that the adjoining door with Sinclair would prove too much of a temptation.

“You’re a good man, Hunter,” said Kristy, her eyes softening.

“Can I have that in writing? It might sway your husband.”

“I’m talking about your moral code, not your business savvy.”

“Nice.”

“But that’s none of my business.”

“The push and pull has been going on a long time,” said Hunter. “Jack, Gramps, the investors gripe and complain, but they take the dividends all the same.”

“Your investments make dividends?”

“And capital gains, each and every one of them.”

Kristy shook her head in obvious confusion. “Then why—”

“Because they think the odds are catching up with me, and they’re sure I’m taking the entire flagship down one day.”

“Will you?”

“Not planning on it.” He danced her toward Jack and Sinclair. He might not be able to hold Sinclair in his bed tonight, but he could at least hold her on the dance floor until the clock struck midnight.

Nine

When Hunter had squeezed her hand in front of Kristy and Jack, down in the lobby and said, “See you in the morning,” Sinclair knew it was all for show. So she brushed her hair, put on fresh perfume, and changed into the purple negligee from La Petite Fleur. She’d even touched up her face with a few of the Luscious Lavender cosmetics.

So, when the knock came from the adjoining hotel room, she was ready. Pulse pounding, skin tingling, anticipation humming along her nervous system, she opened the door.

“Hey, sis,” sang Kristy. Then she tossed a command over her shoulder, “Avert your eyes, Jack.”

Sinclair’s jaw dropped open.

“I brought a nice Chardonnay.” Kristy waved an open bottle in the air. “You got some glasses?”

Kristy breezed past her, and Sinclair met Jack’s eyes.

“Jack,” Kristy warned.

“Sorry,” he called, lowering his gaze.

Sinclair turned to her sister. “What on earth—”

“You might want to shut the door,” said Kristy.

“Where’s Hunter?”

“We traded rooms.”

Sinclair swung the door shut, battling her shock. “I can’t believe you would—”

“It was his idea. He asked me to do it.”

Why would Hunter ask to trade rooms? “Did you threaten him?” Sinclair asked suspiciously.

Kristy poured two glasses of wine. “Yeah. I did, so he backed off. Does that sound like Hunter?”

“No,” Sinclair admitted. Hunter refused to back down from Jack and his grandfather. He sure wasn’t going to back down from Kristy.

Kristy rounded the small coffee table and flopped down on one of the armchairs. “He traded rooms, because he doesn’t want to hurt you. I admire that.”

“He’s not going to hurt me.” Hurting was the furthest thing from what would happen between Hunter and Sinclair tonight.

Kristy took in Sinclair’s outfit. “Well, he’d sure be doing something with you dressed like that.”

Sinclair glanced down. “What? So we bought a few things at La Petite Fleur.”

Dressed in a snazzy workout suit, Kristy curled her legs beneath her.

“And where do you see this thing going?”

“I haven’t thought about it,” Sinclair lied. She’d pictured everything from an “hasta la vista, baby” to a tear-stained goodbye, to a white dress and a cathedral.

“You work for him.”

“I know. Don’t you think I know?”

“Reality check,” said Kristy. “Hunter’s not a one-woman man.”

“Reality check,” Sinclair countered. “I’m not a one-man woman.”

“Not before now.”

“Do you honestly think I’ve fallen in love with him?” She hadn’t.

“Not yet,” said Kristy. “But you’re taking an awfully big risk. You’ll have to work with him afterward no matter what. With all the money he’s invested in Castlebay, he’s going to have to spend one heck of a lot of time at Lush Beauty. He needs this to work. And if your past becomes a problem, guess who’s going to be gone?”

“You think Hunter would fire me?” Talk about extrapolating facts to the worst-case scenario.

“I think he might have to make a choice.”

Sinclair took a long swallow of her wine, hating the fact that the scenario was possible.

She spun the stem of her glass around her fingertips. “What does Jack think?”

“Jack thinks Hunter’s playing with fire. He’s been reckless and impulsive before.”

Sinclair tipped up the glass for another swallow. Reckless and impulsive, everybody seemed to agree on that, including Hunter.

“And it was his idea to switch rooms with you?” Sinclair confirmed.

Kristy nodded.

Sinclair played around with that little fact. Switching rooms meant Hunter thought it wouldn’t last. Chivalrous of him to back off, really. Telling, but chivalrous.

“Did you get my message from last night?”

“I did.”

Sinclair couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice. “Why didn’t you call me?” At least then she would have known to give Hunter a heads-up.

“I’d already told Jack what you said.”

Sinclair watched her sister closely. “And Jack told you not to call me.”

Kristy hesitated, then she gave a nod. It was her turn to drain her glass.

“Men coming between us,” said Sinclair. “Who’d have thought?”

“He’s my husband. And Hunter’s his cousin. And this was family business.”

“And I’m not family.”

“Not the Osland family.”

Sinclair nodded. “Not the Osland family.”

Kristy tucked her blond hair behind her ears. “You sure you’re not in love with him?”

She wasn’t. Of all the things going on here, that, at least, wasn’t an issue. “We’ve known each other a week. We’ve slept together exactly twice.”

“I fell for Jack in a weekend.”

“Are you trying to talk me into loving Hunter?”

“I’m wondering if you should come back to New York with me tomorrow.”

“My makeover’s not done yet.”

She wouldn’t run away. But she could keep it professional. They’d finish the dance lessons, take the planned tours of Castlebay locations, then she’d return to the U.S. and normal life. Her career would get back on track, and Hunter would go out and make more millions.

No big deal. No huge goodbye. They’d settle into their respective lives, and he’d forget all about her.

The next morning, as arranged, Sinclair entered the hotel dining room for a goodbye breakfast with Kristy. The maître d’ recognized her and escorted her through the maze of diners, around the corner to a huge balcony overlooking the atrium.

There, the entire contingent of Oslands sat at a round table, heads bent together, talking rapidly and earnestly, frustration clear on Jack’s and Cleveland’s faces.

When Jack spotted Sinclair, he touched Cleveland’s arm. The man looked up and stopped talking. Hunter and Kristy caught on, and all four shifted back. Forced smiles appeared on their faces.

She’d never felt so much like an outsider in her life.

Kristy stood. “Morning, sis.” She came forward for a quick hug, gesturing to a chair between her and Cleveland.

Sinclair pointed to the way she’d come in. “I can …”

“Don’t be silly,” said Kristy. She shot a glance to the men.

They all came to their feet, talking overtop of one another as they insisted she stay.

She looked at Hunter, but his gaze was guarded. The intimacy was gone, and she couldn’t find a clue as to whether she should be here or go.

Hunter moved around Cleveland to pull out her chair.

Sinclair sat down.

“Where were we?” asked Kristy. “Oh, yes. We were talking about the cruise.”

Jack smoothly picked up on his wife’s cue. “Can you be ready tomorrow afternoon?” he asked. “The captain could wait in port until Tuesday morning, but it’s best if we keep the ship on schedule.”

Cleveland sat in sullen silence.

“Do you think I should pick up a few sundresses before we go?” Kristy chirped. “Or maybe do a little—”

“This is ridiculous,” said Sinclair.

Everyone looked at her.

She started to rise. “I’m going back to my—”

Reaching behind Cleveland, Hunter grabbed her arm. “You’re not going anywhere.”

She stared at him, then included everybody. “You have things to talk about. And it’s not Kristy’s sundresses.”

Jack spoke up. “I happen to have a passionate interest in Kristy’s sundresses. More so in her bikinis.”

“Sinclair’s right,” barked Cleveland.

“Thank you,” said Sinclair.

He swiveled in his chair to face her. “But she doesn’t have to leave.”

Sinclair didn’t know what to say to that. The hollow buzz of voices from the atrium washed over her while his piercing eyes held her in place.

“I understand you were involved in the Castlebay acquisition.”

“Gramps,” warned Hunter.

“Well?” Cleveland pressed. “Were you or were you not?”

Sinclair struggled not to squirm under his probe, excruciatingly aware that this man held controlling interest in Osland International, which held controlling interest in Lush Beauty Products, and he could end her career with the snap of his fingers.

“Yes,” she answered. “It was my idea.”

“It was my idea,” said Hunter.

“But—”

“Sinclair may have mentioned something about a single spa in New York. But I approached Castlebay. I did the research. I agreed to the price. And I signed the check. So, back off on Sinclair.”

Cleveland turned to Hunter. “I’m interested in how much influence she has over you.”

“None,” said Hunter. “It was a business decision, and it was a good one. You read the reports.”

Sinclair tried not to react to that statement. Of course it was a business decision. And she never assumed she had any influence over Hunter. But, somehow, his words hurt all the same.

Cleveland nodded. “I read the reports. The problem is cash flow.”

“I just told you, borrow against the Paraguay mines.”

“With currency fluctuations and the political instability? Do you want Osland International to fall down like a house of cards, boy?”

“Jack could give up the cruise ships he’s just acquired,” said Hunter.

“Jack cleared the cruise ship with the Board of Directors,” Jack drawled.

Sinclair was afraid to move. She wanted to speak up, to explain. But couldn’t summon the words.

Kristy leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Relax.”

“We have options,” Hunter spat.

“Are you kidding?” Sinclair hissed to her sister.

“They do this all the time,” said Kristy.

“Castlebay is going to turn Lush Beauty into a gold mine,” said Hunter with grim determination. “And that’s what you sent me to do there.”

“I sent you there to apologize to Sinclair.”

Sinclair couldn’t hold back. “He doesn’t need—”

“You don’t want a piece of this,” Hunter warned her. Then he set his sights back on his grandfather. “Next time you have a problem with my behavior, talk to me.”

“Why? You never listen.”

“And where the hell do you think I might have inherited that trait?”

“Insolent young pup,” Cleveland muttered.

“Wait for it,” Kristy whispered.

Cleveland squared his shoulders. “Don’t you forget who built this company from an empty warehouse and a corner store.”

“And you took exactly the same risks as me back then,” Hunter practically shouted. “You didn’t check with the Board of Directors, and you didn’t convene a thirty-person legal panel with six months’ lead time. You flew by the seat of your pants. That’s how you built this company.”

“Times have changed,” said Cleveland.

“Maybe,” Hunter allowed.

“And our current cash position is appalling.”

“I’m not returning the cruise ships,” said Jack, his arm going around his wife. “Kristy’s buying a sundress.”

“You’re not returning the cruise ships,” Cleveland agreed. “Hunter’s going to fix this.”

Hunter stared stonily at his coffee mug.

“I think we can join one of the ships in Fiji by the day after tomorrow,” said Kristy in a perky voice that was completely at odds with the conversation.

Jack stroked her hair. “You’ll look great on the beach,” he cheerfully told her, clearly picking up on her lead.

Kristy elbowed Sinclair.

“Uh … What color bikini?” Sinclair tried, unable to take her eyes off Hunter.

“Purple,” said Kristy. “And maybe a matching hat.”

“Did you put any hats in the spring collection?” asked Cleveland. “I think we should start a new trend.”

Hunter drew a deep breath. “Hats were up across the board at Sierra Sanchez last fall. Gramps may have a point.”

Jack took a drink of his coffee and signaled for the waiter to bring refills, while Cleveland picked up his menu.

Sinclair glanced from person to person in complete astonishment. That was it? The blowup was over, and they were all having breakfast?