High-Powered, Hot-Blooded / Westmoreland's Way

“Instead of chocolate? No.”

She stood there in a shapeless blue sweater that matched her eyes and a patterned skirt that went to her knees. Her feet were bare and he could see she’d painted little daisies on her toes. Aside from that, Annie McCoy was strictly utilitarian. No makeup, no jewelry to speak of. Just a plain, inexpensive watch around her left wrist. Her hair was an appealing color. Shades of gold in a riot of curls that tumbled past her shoulders. She wasn’t a woman who spent a lot of time on her appearance.

Which was fine by him. The outside could easily be fixed. He was far more concerned about her character. From what he’d seen in the past ten minutes, she was compassionate, caring and led with her heart. In other words, a sucker. Happy news for him. Right now he needed a bleeding-heart do-gooder to get his board off his back long enough for him to wrestle control from them.

“You haven’t answered my question,” he reminded her.

Annie sighed. “I know. Mostly because I still don’t know what you want from me.”

He pointed to the rickety chairs pushed up against the table. “Why don’t we sit down.”

It was her house—she should be doing the inviting. Still Annie found herself dragging her chair over to the table and plopping down. Politeness dictated that she offer him some of her precious store of M&M’s, but she had a feeling she was going to need them later.

He took a seat across from her and rested his large arms on the table. “I run a company,” he began. “Patrick Industries.”

“Tell me it’s a family business,” she said, without thinking. “You inherited it, right? You’re not such a total egomaniac that you named it after yourself.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I see the chocolate gives you courage.”

“A little.”

“I inherited the company while I was in college. I took it from nothing to a billion-dollar empire in fifteen years.”

Lucky him, she thought, thinking she had nothing to bond with. Scoring in the top two percent of the country on her SATs was hardly impressive when compared with billions.

“To get that far, that fast, I was ruthless,” he continued. “I bought companies, merged them into mine and streamlined them to make them very profitable.”

She counted out the last M&M’s. Eight round bits of heaven. “Is that a polite way of saying you fired people?”

He nodded. “The business world loves a success story, but only to a point. They consider me too ruthless. I’m getting some bad press. I need to counteract that.”

“Why do you care what people say about you?”

“I don’t, but my board of directors does. I need to fool people into thinking I have a heart. I need to appear…” He hesitated. “Nice.”

Now it was her turn to smile. “Not your best quality?”

“No.”

He had unusual eyes, she thought absently. The gray was a little scary, but not unattractive. If only they weren’t so cold.

“You are exactly what you seem,” he said. “A pretty, young teacher with more compassion than sense. People like that. The press will like that.”

She’d been with him, right up until that last bit. “Press? As in press?”

“Not television media or gossip reporters. I’m talking about business reporters. Between now and Christmas I have about a dozen social events I need to attend. I want you to go with me. As far as the world is concerned, we’re dating and you’re crazy about me. They’ll think you’re nice and by association, change their opinion of me.”

Which all sounded easy enough, she thought. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to actually act nice? This reminds me of high school when a few people worked really hard to cheat. They could have spent the same amount of time studying and gotten a better grade without any risk. But they would rather cheat.”

His dark eyebrows drew together. “My reasons are not up for debate.”

She picked up another M&M. “I’m just saying.”

“If you agree, then I’ll arrange for your brother to enter rehab immediately, under the conditions we discussed. He’ll get the second chance you seem to think he deserves. However, if you let on to anyone that our relationship isn’t real, if you say anything bad about me, then Tim goes directly to jail.”

“Without collecting two hundred dollars.”

“Exactly.”

A deal with the devil, she thought, wondering how a nice girl like her got into a situation like this. Of course, her being a nice girl was apparently the point. She sighed.

The sense of being trapped was very real. As was the knowledge that while she was expected to take care of her cousins, Tim and apparently even Duncan Patrick, no one ever bothered to take care of her. Or worry about her.

“I’m not lying to my family,” she said. “My cousins and Kami have to know.”

Duncan seemed to consider that. “Just them. And if they tell anyone—”

She nodded. “I know. Off with their heads. Have you been through any seminars on teamwork or communications? If you worked on your people skills, you might…”

The gray eyes turned to ice. She pressed her lips together and stopped talking.

“You agree?” he asked.

Did she have a choice? Tim needed help. She’d tried to talk him into getting it before, but he always blew her off. Maybe being forced to spend some time in a safe place would make a difference. As the alternative was him being charged with a felony, she didn’t see that she had a choice.

“I will,” she began, “act as your adoring girlfriend between now and Christmas. I will tell anyone who will listen that you are kind and sweet and have the heart of a marshmallow.” She frowned at him. “I don’t know anything about you. How am I supposed to fake being in a relationship?”

“I’ll get you material.”

“Won’t that be happy reading.”

He ignored her comment. “In return, Tim will get the help he needs, fifty percent of the debt will be forgiven and he’ll have a reasonable payment plan for the rest. Do you have an appropriate wardrobe?”

She nibbled on the last M&M. “Define appropriate.”

He looked at her with a thoroughness that left her breathless. Before she could react, he’d scanned her battered kitchen, his gaze lingering on the warped vinyl flooring.

“Someone will be in touch to arrange a session with a stylist,” he said. “When the month is over, you can keep the clothes.” He rose.

She stood and trailed after him. “What kind of clothes?”

“Cocktail dresses and evening gowns.” He paused by the front door and faced her.

“I have the dress from my prom.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be comfortable wearing it at one of these events.”

“Is this really happening?” she asked. “Are we having this conversation?”

“It is and we are. The first party is on Saturday night. My assistant will call you with the information. Please be ready on time.”

He dwarfed her small living room, looking too masculine for the floral-print sofa and lacy curtains. She would never have imagined a man like him in her life, even temporarily.

“I’m sorry my brother stole from you,” she said.

“He’s not your responsibility.”

“Of course he is. He’s family.”

For a second Duncan looked like he was going to say something, but instead he left. Annie closed the door behind him and wondered how she was going to tell her cousins and Kami what she’d gotten herself into now.

Saturday morning both Jenny and Julie stared at Annie with identical expressions of shock, their green eyes wide, their mouths hanging partially open. Kami looked just as surprised.

“What?” Julie asked. “You did what?”

Annie had put off telling them as long as she could. She’d hidden the binder that had been delivered on Thursday, sliding it under her bed, then pretending it didn’t really exist. Her first “date” with Duncan was that night, so she was going to have to read it sooner rather than later.

“I agreed to go out with Tim’s boss for a month. We’re not really dating each other,” she added hastily. “We’re pretending until Christmas. I’m supposed to help his image.”

But she still wasn’t clear on how that was supposed to happen. Did Duncan expect her to give interviews? She wouldn’t be very good at it. She could easily stand up in front of a room of five-year-olds, but a crowd of adults would make her nervous.

“I don’t understand,” Kami said, blinking at her. “Why?”

Jenny and Julie exchanged a look. “This is all about Tim, isn’t it?” Jenny asked. “He’s in trouble.”

“Some,” Annie admitted. “He, ah, embezzled some money. But Duncan is going to get him into rehab and that will help.”

“Him, not you.” Julie tucked her light brown hair behind her ears. “Let me guess. Tim somehow threw you under the bus on this one. What did he tell his boss about you?”

“It wasn’t me, specifically. It was…” She cleared her throat. While she didn’t want to tell her cousins what had happened, she believed in speaking the truth. Well, except when it came to her secret M&M stash.

She quickly explained about the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, how Duncan would forgive half the debt and allow Tim to make payments on the other half when he got out of rehab and was working again.

Julie sprang to her feet. “I swear, Annie, you’re impossible.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“Gave in. Let Tim do this to you again. You’re always getting him out of trouble. When he was seven and stole from the mini market by the house, you took the fall and paid them back for the candy bars. When he was in high school and cutting class, you convinced the principal not to suspend him. He needs to face the consequences of what he’s done.”

“He doesn’t need to go to jail. How will that help?”

“If the pain’s big enough, then maybe he’ll learn his lesson.”

Jenny nodded, while Kami only looked uncomfortable.

“He needs help,” Annie said stubbornly. “And he’s my brother.”

“All the more reason to want him to grow up and be responsible,” Julie said.

Annie sighed. “I promised.”

When her mother had been dying, she’d made Annie swear she would look after Tim, no matter what.

The twins exchanged another look.

“There’s no getting around that,” Kami told them. “You know how Annie gets. She always sees the best in people.”

Annie stood and touched Julie’s arm. “It’s not that bad. I’m dating a really rich guy for a month, going to fancy parties. Nothing more.”

All three girls looked at her. Annie felt herself starting to blush.

“Nothing,” she repeated. “No sex, so don’t even go there.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t have told you except I’ll be gone a lot and eventually you’d notice. In the meantime, I kind of need your help. Duncan is sending a stylist to take me shopping for cocktail dresses and a couple of formal gowns. I won’t need them after this month, but I get to keep them. So I thought you three might want to come along and give me your opinions. What with you being able to borrow them when I’m done.”

As she expected, there was a general shrieking as all three of them jumped up and down, yelling.

“Seriously?” Jenny asked.

“Uh-huh. The stylist is due here any second and we’re going shopping. So you want to come with me?”

They’d barely had time to agree when the doorbell rang. Jenny and Julie ran to open the door.

“Dear God,” a man said. “Tell me Duncan isn’t dating twins. Although you two are gorgeous. Have you thought about going into modeling?”

The twins giggled in response.

Annie went out into the living room where a tall, thin blond man stood looking over her cousins.

“Love the hair,” he said, fluffing Julie’s ends. “Maybe a few more layers to open up your face and give your hair volume. Try a smoky eye. You’ll be delish.” He looked past them to Annie and raised his eyebrows. “Now you look exactly like a stereotypical kindergarten teacher, so you must be Annie. What were you thinking, agreeing to help someone like Duncan? The man is a total ruthless bastard. Sexy, of course, not that he would ever notice me.” He smiled. “I’m Cameron, by the way. And yes, I know it’s a girl’s name. I tell my mother it’s the reason I’m gay.”

He glanced over her shoulder as Kami came in the room and he sighed. “I don’t know who you are, honey, but you’re giving these beauties a run for their money. Yummy.”

Kami laughed. “Get real.”

“I am real. The realest.”

Annie introduced the girls. Cameron sat on the worn sofa in the living room and pulled out a couple of folders.

“Come on, little teacher,” he said, patting the cushion next to him. “We have to go over the schedule. Duncan has fifteen social events between now and Christmas. You’ll be with him at all of them.”

He passed her one of the slim folders. “You got the background information, didn’t you?”

She nodded, although she’d only read the basic bio. “Impressive. He put himself through college on a boxing scholarship.”

Cameron’s hazel eyes widened slightly. “You sound surprised.”

“I was. It’s not traditional.”

“His uncle is Lawrence Patrick. The boxer.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Julie said. “He’s, like, old, but he was really famous.”

Annie had heard of him, as well. “Interesting family,” she said.

“Duncan was raised by his uncle. It’s a fascinating story, one I’ll let him tell you himself. You’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”

Not something Annie wanted to think about as she took the second folder Cameron offered. This one contained a questionnaire she was to fill out so Duncan could pretend to know all about her.

What had she been thinking, agreeing to this craziness? But before she could even consider backing out of the deal—not that she would—Cameron had ushered them all to the stretch limo waiting to take them shopping.

Five hours later, Annie was exhausted. She’d tried on dozens and dozens of dresses, blouses, pants and jackets. She’d stepped in and out of shoes, shrugged at small, shiny evening bags and endured a bra fitting from a very stern-looking older woman.

Now she sat with foil in her hair, watching pink polish dry on her nails. When they’d moved from shopping to a day spa, she’d been relieved to know she could finally sit down.

Cameron appeared with a glass of lemon water and a fruit-and-cheese plate.

“Tired?” he asked sympathetically.

“Beyond tired. I’ve never shopped so much in my life.”

“People underestimate the energy required to power shop.” Cameron settled in the empty salon chair next to her. “Getting it right takes effort.”

“Apparently.” While she’d thought all the outfits had fit okay, he’d insisted the store seamstress tuck and pin until they were perfect.

Cameron handed her a sheet of paper. On it was a list of the outfits, followed by the shoes and bags that went with each. She laughed.

“You must think I’m totally inept, although I’ll admit I’m not sure I could remember this myself.”

“I couldn’t stand for you to clash. Putting a look together requires a lot of skills. It’s why the good stylists make the big bucks.”

“So you’re famous?” she asked.

He smiled modestly. “In my world. I have a few celebrity clients I keep happy. Several corporate types like Duncan, who want me to keep their wardrobes current without being trendy. Not that Duncan actually cares what he wears. He’s such a typical guy.”

“How did you meet?”

Cameron raised his eyebrows. “We were college roommates.”

If Annie had been drinking her lemon water, she would have choked. “Seriously?”

“I know. Hard to imagine. At least we never wanted to hook up with the same person. I was an art history major back then. I lasted a year before I realized fashion was my one true love. I moved to New York and tried to make it as a designer.” He sighed. “I don’t have the patience for creating. All that sewing. So not my thing. I took a job as a buyer at an upscale department store. Then I started working with the store’s really exclusive customers. The rest, as they say, is history.”

Annie tried to imagine Duncan and Cameron sharing a college dorm room, but she couldn’t get her mind around the idea.

“What about you?” he asked. “How did you get involved with the big bad?”

“Is that what you call him?”

“Not to his face. He might hit me.” But Cameron was smiling as he spoke and there was affection in his tone. “So what happened?”

She told him about Tim and the money. “I couldn’t let my brother go to jail,” she said. “Not when there was a chance to save him.”

“Honey, you are too nice by far. Be careful Duncan doesn’t chew you up and spit you out.”

“You don’t have to worry. This is business. I’m not interested in him personally.”

“Uh-huh. You say that now, but Duncan is very charismatic. A friendly word of advice. Don’t be fooled by the polite exterior. Duncan’s a fighter. You’re not. If there’s a battle, he’s going to win.”

“You’re sweet to worry, but don’t. Even if I did fall for him—” something she couldn’t begin to imagine “—he wouldn’t respond. Seriously. I can’t imagine that I’m his type.”

“You’re no Valentina.”

“Who?”

“Valentina. His ex-wife. Stunning, in a scary girl-snake kind of way. Cold. Remember that line from Pretty Woman? About being able to freeze ice on someone’s ass? That’s Valentina.”

She was surprised to hear that Duncan had been married, although she probably shouldn’t be. He was successful and in his thirties. It made sense that he’d found someone.

“How long have they been divorced?”

“A couple of years. She scared me.” He shivered. “So enough about Duncan. What about you? Why isn’t a nice girl like you happily married?”

She reached for a strawberry. A question for the ages, she thought glumly. “I’ve had two serious relationships. Both times the guy left, each claiming he saw me more as a friend than as the love of his life.”

She spoke lightly, as if the words didn’t matter, as if she wasn’t still hurt. Not that she missed either one of them. Not anymore. But she was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with her. Something missing. The two relationships had lasted a total of four and a half years. She’d been in love, or so she’d thought. She’d been able to imagine a future, marriage, children. Those men were the only two she’d slept with and for her, the sex had been fine. Maybe not as magical as she’d heard it described by friends or in books, but still very nice.

But it hadn’t been enough. Not the sex or her heart or any of it. Both of them had left. And that they’d said practically the same thing had her wondering.

“I don’t want to be the best friend,” she whispered fiercely.

Cameron patted her hand. “Tell me about it.”

Annie was grateful beyond words that Hector, the genius at the salon, had styled her hair for the evening. He’d blown out her usually curly hair into a sleek cascade of waves that fell past her shoulders. Hector’s assistant had done her makeup as well, so all she had to do was pull on the dress and step into the right shoes. Cameron had suggested a cocktail dress for the event. Now Annie stared at it and wondered if she had the nerve.

The dress was simple enough—sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline. Fitted, although not tight, and falling midthigh. It was the latter that made her want to squirm as she stared at herself in the mirror above her dresser. If she kept the mirror straight, she looked fine. Of course she could only see herself from the waist up. If she tilted the mirror down, she could see to her ankles and there was way too much leg showing.

Telling herself that by many standards, the dress wasn’t even that short didn’t help. She was used to skirts that fell closer to her ankles than her thighs. Of course, that was in the classroom where she was constantly bending over small desks or sitting on the floor. This was different.

Unfortunately the girls weren’t around to ask. They’d gone out to the movies, leaving her to decide on her own. She could always change her clothes, but she didn’t know what else would be appropriate for the party.

Before she could decide what to do, the doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock radio on her nightstand. Duncan was about ten minutes early. She would be wearing the dress she had on.

She stepped into her high heels, teetered for a second, then walked into the living room. Not sure what Duncan was going to have to say or what to expect from the evening, she drew in a deep breath and pulled open the door.

But the man standing there wasn’t her date and he didn’t look happy.

“What the hell did you do?” Tim demanded as he pushed past her into the house. “Dammit, Annie, you don’t have the right to force me to go to one of those places.”

“I see you finally decided to talk to me,” she said coolly. “I’ve been leaving messages for three days.” Ever since she and Duncan had made their deal.

Her brother faced her, his blue eyes flashing with anger. “You had no right.”

“To do what?” she asked, feeling her own temper rise. “Help? You got into this, Tim. You stole money from your boss. How could you?”

He shifted slightly and dropped his gaze to the floor. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m sure that’s true. You have a problem. It’s either rehab or jail.”

“Thanks to you,” he said bitterly.

She put her hands on her hips. “This is not my fault. I’m not the one who gambled and I’m not the one who told Duncan Patrick this house was yours. You stole and lied, Tim. You were willing to risk everything on a roll of the dice.”

“I play cards.”

“Whatever.”

He glared at her. “You’re my sister, Annie. You’re supposed to help me, not throw me into some institution. What would Mom say?”

A low blow, she thought, more resigned than angry. “She would think you’re a big disappointment. She would tell you that it was time to grow up and take responsibility.”

Tim didn’t even flinch. “It doesn’t have to be like this,” he said. “You could mortgage the house. It’s half mine, anyway.”

“It was half yours. I bought you out, remember? I’m tired of this, Tim. Tired of you expecting me to bail you out. I’ve always taken care of you and you’ve never been grateful or tried to change.”

“You owe me.” Tim moved closer. He was a lot bigger and taller. “You’re going to mortgage the house, Annie. One way or the other. Do you hear me?”

She was too surprised to be afraid. Before she could figure out what to do next, Duncan walked through the half-open door.

“McCoy,” he said.

Tim spun to face his boss. “What are you doing here?”

“I have an appointment with your sister.”

Tim swung back to Annie, then looked her up and down. “You’re going out with him?”

She nodded.

Tim’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “Figures. I’m getting screwed and you’re going on a date. Nice. Talk about ignoring your family.”

The accusation burned down to her belly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered. “This is about saving our family, something you don’t care about.”

Duncan grabbed Tim’s arm. “She’s right. As we discussed, you’ll report to the treatment facility by nine tomorrow morning or there will be a warrant for your arrest.”

Tim looked between them. “You’re in this together. You’re selling me out with this bastard? Dammit, Annie.”

Duncan stepped between them. “Enough, McCoy. It’s time for you to leave. Remember, by nine in the morning.”

“Why wait?” Tim asked bitterly. “I’ll go now.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

Tim shook off Duncan’s hand, then walked to the door. He paused and glanced back at her. “Do you even care?”

Annie pressed her lips together and refused to answer. Tim would manipulate her if she gave him the chance. She’d never been able to stand up to him, but maybe it was time to start learning how.

She squared her shoulders. “Good luck, Tim. I hope this works.”