Executive Seduction

Executive Seduction

Kristi Gold

MILLS & BOON

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To my wonderful daughter, Lauren Ashley,

who wears the chef’s hat in the family, and

who has brought me much joy over the years.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Coming Next Month

One

What a cowardly way to say goodbye.

In total disbelief, Corinna Harris stared at the Dear Jane letter resting on the pink marble vanity in her dressing room, a nice little missive that had been couriered to her only minutes ago. She shouldn’t be surprised that her erstwhile fiancé had chosen this method to break it off. After all, Kevin O’Brien was a journalist, well-versed with the written word, although this particular correspondence was simple, and to the point.

Thanks for everything, Corri, but it’s time to end it. Feel free to keep the ring. It’s been fun.

Fun? After an eight-month sham of an engagement, one would think he might actually have had enough courtesy to tell her in person that it was over. Not that she was at all surprised. Not that she wasn’t angry.

Corri yanked the one-carat diamond off her finger and hurled it across the room like a missile, where it hit the wall and landed somewhere in the thick blue carpet. If it happened to get sucked up in a vacuum by the cleaning staff, then too bad. She wanted absolutely no souvenirs of a relationship that had basically been a lie.

The rap at the door jolted Corri back into the reality of what she had to do—her job. “Five minutes,” one of the crew called.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Was she really ready? Could she actually step in front of an audience and pretend nothing had happened? And today of all days, during her first live performance, a show centered on preparing the perfect holiday meal for lovers. Six days before Christmas.

Of course she could do this. Kevin might have temporarily screwed up her life, but she refused to let his careless disregard screw up her career.

After slipping on her favorite white chef’s smock, the one covered with tiny wooden spoons, Corri did another quick check of her makeup and tightened her ponytail. A few tears threatened behind her carefully painted eyes, but she wouldn’t allow them to fall. Instead, she got mad. Clung to the anger as tightly as a bank robber clutching his pilfered booty.

That alone sent her out to face the crowd, a fake smile carefully in place. She glanced toward the control booth and immediately spotted Aidan O’Brien, AOB Productions’ owner, and Kevin’s older brother. Since the day she’d taped her first show, Aidan had always been there, serving as her champion and friend. And at a good six foot three, he wasn’t easy to miss. But it wasn’t only his imposing height that earned attention. He had his Armenian mother’s thick brown hair and olive complexion, his Irish father’s incredible green eyes, and an air of concrete confidence that made some men cower—as well as an undeniable sense of mystery that made women long to know his secrets.

Speaking of secrets, Corri briefly wondered if Aidan had known about Kevin’s plan. Of course not. He would have told her. At least she thought he would. He’d served as her confidante on more than one occasion, and they’d had more than their fair share of conversations, even if she’d done most the talking. Even if she hadn’t been totally honest with him about her relationship with his brother.

Corri had the strongest urge to run to Aidan, cry on his broad shoulder and curse Kevin’s bad timing. Not a banner idea. She had to weather this storm alone, and the first step entailed going out and giving her best to her fans.

“Thirty seconds,” the stage manager called, and when he reached ten, counted down the seconds one by one, keeping time with Corri’s erratic heart.

“Ladies and gentleman. Please welcome Houston’s sweetheart of the stove, Corinna Harris, the star of Hot Cooking with Corri!”

Corri strode to the evergreen-bedecked stage on legs as stiff as wooden spoons, trying to take comfort from the rousing applause. But she felt only numbness, until, she considered that every time she’d walked onto this set for the past few months, she’d talked about Kevin. Then the anger returned. She’d pretended that their relationship had been made in heaven, when, in fact, he’d given her a lot of hell.

And right then she decided that several ways to exact revenge did exist. Nothing like a woman scorned behind a stove.

The minute he saw her walk onstage, Aidan knew something was wrong with Corri. She was a tall, leggy, powerhouse blonde with as much appeal as the meals she served up to her audience, and for the past year, he’d scheduled his meetings around her popular weekly show. In that time he’d learned to gauge every move she made, every detail of her body language. Every detail of her body, period.

He probably should feel guilty that he spent a good deal of time studying Corri’s finer points, particularly since she was engaged to his brother, but he didn’t. No one knew he fantasized about her frequently. No one would ever know that he regretted introducing her to Kevin. But back then, he’d been in a relationship and by the time it had ended, Kevin and Corri had become a solid couple. So solid that they’d become engaged in a matter of weeks. For months he’d watched her talk about his brother during the show, and while her fan base had welcomed it, Aidan hadn’t. In fact, at times he’d hated it.

Still, he firmly believed mixing business with pleasure could lead to problems in the workplace. But there had been days when he’d wondered about what might have been. Right now, he still wondered over Corri’s mood. She made it through the first three-quarters of the show without a hitch, but she’d sounded overly cheerful. Normally she cracked a few jokes, connected with the audience, but today she looked as if she only wanted to get it over with. Probably a solid case of nerves brought on by the live telecast.

Following the final commercial break, Corri resumed her show to conduct the usual question-and-answer session. But instead of calling on an audience member, she said, “We’re going to do something a little different today in the time we have left.”

She moved behind the island workstation and propped both palms on the edge. “Now that we’ve discussed a holiday meal guaranteed to jingle your partner’s bells, we shouldn’t forget those who don’t have a lover during the season. Particularly the unfortunate few who have been jilted by some jerk at the worst possible time.”

When Corri grabbed two hot pads, Aidan noticed the stage director standing offstage, flipping through the script and looking altogether confused. Corri pulled a pan from the oven, turned and slammed it down onto the butcher-block counter. “I suggest you go ahead and make this chocolate soufflé because you’re going to want to eat the whole thing, and that’s okay. But for the sake of your health, I also suggest you make a salad first.”

After she tossed the hot pads aside, Corri turned to the refrigerator, and the production assistant muttered, “What in the hell is she doing?”

“Don’t panic, Parker,” Aidan said. “Corri’s a professional. Let her go.”

The control-room director didn’t appear to care for that answer. “We can’t just let her go when we don’t know where she’s going on live TV.”

Aidan held up a hand to silence everyone when Corri returned to the counter with an armload of vegetables that she dropped onto the surface, seeming not to care when a tomato rolled onto the floor.

She held up a large cucumber. “Let’s start with this. Just remember, it’s not anatomically to scale, even if most men would have you believe it is.”

Parker shot a forlorn look at Aidan. “She didn’t just say that.”

“Yeah, she did,” the sound engineer said.

And something told Aidan she wasn’t quite done.

Following a spattering of laughter, Corri slapped the cucumber onto a cutting board, then picked up a nearby cleaver. “When you’re thinking about the idiot who’s left you high and dry, just imagine this is…” She looked up and grinned, and that’s when Aidan saw the hint of tears. “Well, you catch my drift.”

Then she began hacking away at the vegetable with a vengeance, leaving the studio’s occupants stunned and the director demanding a fade-out.

But before the commercial could be cued, one young woman called out, “What are you and Kevin doing for the holidays, Corri?”

Corri looked up, cleaver still in hand, and sent the lady a withering look. “I’m not doing anything with Kevin over the holidays, because the jackass dumped me.”

For someone who prided herself on composure, Corri had just hit an all-time low on the no-self-control scale. She didn’t know what had gotten into her, why she’d perhaps let Kevin’s little stunt ruin the best job she’d ever had. With several whacks of a cleaver, she’d shredded any possibility of a wider syndication beyond the region. And when the knock came at the dressing-room door, she expected to find a band of studio executives swooping down on her like a flock of hungry hawks.

She snatched a tissue from the holder and removed what she could of the mascara smudges beneath her eyes. “Come in.”

“What’s going on with you?”

Corri wasn’t all that surprised to see the mirrored reflection of Aidan standing at the door. He was in charge of the studio, which meant he was in charge of her.

She spun around on the stool and shrugged. “I just made a total fool of myself.”

He strolled into the room, hands in pockets, and stood there, silently studying her. “Go ahead, Aidan,” she said. “Tell me I’m fired. Tell me you’re going to cancel the show. Tell me a team of censors is waiting outside to wash my mouth out with soap. Just say something.”

He took a couple of slow steps toward her and stopped, as if he feared she might go after him with the metal nail file set out on the vanity. “First, you tell me what Kevin did to you.”

She slid the letter off the counter and offered it to him. “This came about ten minutes before the show.”

Aidan took the paper and scanned it before muttering, “Son of a bitch.”

Corri pulled the band out of her ponytail and began to brush her hair with rapid strokes. “I knew this was inevitable. I just didn’t think he’d handle it this way.”

Aidan laid the letter down and leaned a hip against the vanity. “You two been having problems?”

She tossed the brush into a drawer, which she slammed a little harder than necessary. “Our entire relationship has been one big problem, Aidan. But I really don’t want to talk about that now. I want to talk about the repercussions I’m going to suffer because of my behavior.”

“We won’t know for a few days,” he said. “Whatever happens, I’ll handle it.”

She had no doubt he would, or at least try. “And that means determining what segment of my audience was most offended. The more conservative viewers, or the men.”

“I’d say your male viewers. Every man in the control booth crossed their legs simultaneously when you went after that cucumber.” He topped off the comment with a half smile.

She had to love him for trying to lighten the mood. “It was definitely not one of my finer moments, but I was so furious at Kevin I couldn’t think straight. I’m sorry.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not happy with him, either.” He folded the letter and slid it into his inside jacket pocket. “Do you know where he is right now?”

Corri knew where she’d like to send him—some-place without the benefit of air conditioning or any of those high-dollar hair products that Kevin so loved to use. “If my memory serves me correctly, he should be about to leave for the airport. He has a six o’clock flight to Baltimore to do a feature on some football player for the magazine.”

Aidan checked his watch and pushed away from the vanity. “It’s four o’clock, and Kevin’s never on time. If I leave now, I might be able to catch him at the apartment. If not, I’ll drive to the airport.”

That plan didn’t sound particularly wise to Corri. “What are you going to do, Aidan?”

“Have a talk with him.”

She slid off the stool and realized how fragile she felt standing across from Aidan. She was five feet, nine inches tall, and not many men made her feel so delicate. “If you think you’re going to somehow change his mind about breaking off the engagement, don’t bother. It’s been doomed from the beginning.”

“I’m not going to try to talk him out of anything. As far as I’m concerned, you’re better off without him.”

Obviously the familial blood between them was running thin. “He is still your brother, Aidan.”

“And his behavior impacted one of the studio’s most valued commodities.”

Corri appreciated his support, although she wasn’t sure how she felt about being known as a commodity. Corri the Commodity. That fit. That was exactly what she’d been to Kevin. “If I can’t talk you out of confronting him, then promise me you won’t do anything stupid. I’ve done enough stupid things for both of us today.”

“I’ll be sure to make certain all sharp objects are out of my reach.” He leaned over and swept a soft kiss across her cheek. “Now go home. I’ll call you later.”

After Aidan left the room, Corri touched her fingertips to the place where his lips had been only moments before, totally taken aback by the gesture. Aidan had never been a cheek-kissing kind of guy. He wasn’t prone to random bouts of affection. He wasn’t the type of man who openly displayed any emotions unless it involved disapproval. Even then he used a hard, controlled tone and cutting looks as his weapon of choice, although he’d never really practiced those on her. He’d never had any reason to…until today. Yet he’d kissed her cheek instead.

And then she remembered that day last March. Remembered another kiss. For months now, she hadn’t let herself think about it. But she thought it about it now.

It had all started with that silly, I’m Not Irish, But You Can Kiss Me Anyway T-shirt she’d worn to Lucine and Dermot O’Brien’s house for their annual St. Patrick’s Day party, right after she and Kevin had started going out. She’d received a few friendly pecks on the cheek from the O’Brien brothers—except for Aidan. She’d ended up with him in the kitchen—his mother’s kitchen, no less—alone.

And then it had happened. The kiss. Unplanned, unexpected and anything but innocent. Corri had felt so guilty, she’d practically sprinted back into the living room to join Kevin, then she’d feigned a headache so he would take her home. The following weekend, she’d accompanied Kevin to Jamaica and returned engaged, for reasons unbeknownst to everyone. And later, she’d learned that Aidan and his long-time girlfriend had called it quits, for reasons she still didn’t know.

One thing she did know. Overtly sexy men meant only one thing—trouble. Aidan O’Brien definitely fell into that category. And the last thing she needed was more trouble.

Fortunately for Aidan, Kevin’s car was still parked in the garage at his condominium. Unfortunately for Kevin, Aidan was in no mood for socializing. He wasn’t exactly sure what he would say to his brother, but he could guarantee it wouldn’t be pleasant.

He rapped on the door three times before Kevin finally answered, looking disheveled and shirtless, as if he’d just crawled out of bed. Considering the clothes strewn all over the room at his back, he probably had.

Kevin ran a fast hand through his hair. “Hey, big brother, what are you—”

Aidan shoved him aside, walked into the living room and pulled out the letter. “What in the hell were you thinking?”

Kevin eyed the paper then collapsed onto the couch. “Corri sent you.”

Aidan strode to the sofa and loomed over him. “Corri didn’t want me to come. But I’m here now, and you have some explaining to do, so you damn sure better get to it.”

After propping his bare feet on the coffee table, Kevin leaned back and stacked his hands behind his head. “I don’t have a lot of time to get into this. My flight leaves in three hours, and I’ve already had to change it once due to another appointment. Besides, this isn’t any of your damn business.”

Aidan would wager that his brother’s so-called appointment wasn’t at all work-related. “I’m making it my business, Kevin. You could have been man enough at least to end it in person.”

“I don’t like messy goodbye scenes,” Kevin said. “It’s a lot easier to make a clean break without having to face someone.”

That only angered Aidan more. “You’re a coward, Kevin. You don’t deserve Corri. You never have.”

Kevin smiled, a smug one. “I guess you’re going to tell me that you deserve her.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do, Aidan. You’ve always wanted her, and for months now, you’ve been royally pissed off because I got there before you did. But now she’s all yours, if you don’t mind having my leftovers.”

Aidan hung on to what was left of his composure, and tempered his tone when he said, “I’m not even going to justify that with a response.”

Kevin came to his feet. “And I’m not going to ignore what Corri said about me on her show today. My boss’s wife was watching, and she told him about it. I’ve just received a promotion to senior staff reporter at the magazine. If my position’s in jeopardy because of Corri, I’m going to sue her and the studio for slander and defamation of character, I don’t care if you do own the place.”

Right when Aidan started to say that you couldn’t defame a man with very little character, something caught his attention. Something that looked a lot like a cheerleading costume draped over the back of one dining-room chair. He crossed the room and picked up the sweater, noting it held the insignia of a professional basketball team. “Unless you’re trying to get in touch with your feminine side, I’d say the owner of this is probably behind your bedroom door.”

Kevin came at him quickly and grabbed the sweater away. “Get out, Aidan.”

Aidan fisted his hands at his sides, resisting the urge to plant a left hook in his brother’s jaw. They’d had the normal scuffles growing up, but not once had he slugged any of his brothers. Always a first time for everything. Then he considered something more effective. Something that could hurt Kevin worse, a direct blow to his professional reputation. “If you make any more noise about suing Corri, I’ll have a talk with your boss myself. I’ll let him know that you’re more interested in screwing the pep squad than in doing your job.”

Aidan didn’t wait for Kevin’s response before he was out the door, opting to nix the elevator and take the four flights of stairs in order to blow off steam. He hoped his threats worked, otherwise Corri could be in for a legal battle with her fiancé. Ex-fiancé, Aidan amended. That was the only good thing that had come out of this day.

Corri was no longer with Kevin, and that meant she was free to do as she pleased, and he would have no problem helping her get over his brother. He could make the fantasies a reality, even if it meant taking it slowly. Otherwise, she could run away again before he had his chance.

Two

For three hours, Corri wandered aimlessly around her apartment, picking up the clutter she’d ignored for several weeks. She’d never been a domestic goddess, although her kitchen was always spotless. Her bedroom was another story altogether. Her clothes tended to stay where they’d landed until she’d gathered them up to do laundry. Several pairs of shoes could be found lying in various places, some beneath her bed. She’d grown up in such a sterile environment, with everything always in its place, that she enjoyed the freedom of making a mess whenever she wanted, until she couldn’t stand it any longer. And right now she couldn’t stand it. She needed some order in her life. She felt as if she’d been strapped into a roller coaster, with no way to get off the chaotic ride.

Fortunately for her, on the few occasions Kevin had visited her apartment, he’d never left any real reminders. For all intents and purposes, it was as if he’d never been there at all. Or even been in her life to any degree. Probably because he really hadn’t.

When the doorbell buzzed, Corri worried it might be Kevin coming by to make amends at Aidan’s insistence. If it did happen to be him, she would gladly take the opportunity to toss him out on his butt, as she should have done months ago. Yet, when she peered through the peephole, she didn’t see Kevin. She saw his brother standing on her porch, and that was quite a surprise. Aidan had never paid her a visit before.

Corri opened the door, immediately regretting her unkempt state. “What are you doing here?”

He held up a brown paper bag. “I brought some wine. I thought you could use a drink.”

She could. Several, in fact. “By all means, come in.”

Aidan followed her into the living room and shed his jacket. “Nice place. Kind of a long drive from downtown.”

“I like the quiet neighborhood.” She liked the way he looked right now with his navy sweatshirt, well-worn jeans and loafers. Not that she’d seen him ever look anything but great. “You know, I’m so used to you in a suit, it’s almost always a shock to see you in casual clothes.”

“I guess we’re even then,” he said as he tossed his jacket over the back of one chair. “I’ve rarely seen you without all the stage makeup, or your hair down.”

Her hand immediately went to her stringy hair. She hadn’t bothered to dry it when she’d left the shower. In fact, she didn’t remember brushing it. Not to mention, her T-shirt and sweats would qualify as too ratty to exist. “I’m a mess.”

“You look great.”

Considering the appreciation in his tone, she might actually start to believe it. “Thanks. Now come have a seat. I was just about to make something for dinner. Have you eaten yet?”

“No.” He dropped down on the sofa and set the bottle on the table. “But you shouldn’t have to cook. We could have Chinese delivered. Or pizza.”

“Believe me, it’s nothing fancy,” Corri said on her way to the miniscule kitchen. Not unless he considered hot dogs fancy, because that’s exactly what she’d planned to have. Nuked hot dogs. She’d gone to the grocer’s on the way home and stocked up on junk food—major junk food, including double fudge cookies, and Italian soda. Tomorrow she could go to the gym and attempt to reverse the damage.

Corri microwaved three hot dogs, one for her and two for Aidan, and after gathering all the fixings and silverware, placed them on her nice teakwood tray. She opened the cabinet and took out the gold-rimmed wineglasses Kevin had brought her from Pamplona back in July, an attempt to make amends for missing her twenty-ninth birthday. If they weren’t so pretty and ornate, she would happily throw one against the wall just as she had the ring.

After slipping a corkscrew in her pocket, and tucking the bag of chips under her chin, she carried the tray into the living room and slid it onto the coffee table. “Here you go. Franks à la Corri.”