The Wealthy Ransomes

It was after three in the morning before he fell asleep, but within thirty minutes, the ringing of his phone awakened him. Immediately alert, Nick stretched out a long arm and picked up the receiver. His first thought was that something might have happened to his dad, whose health wasn’t the greatest.

“Nick.”

He heard Tyler’s voice. “Is Dad okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry. I’m not calling about your family.”

Relief swamped Nick and he flopped down in bed again. “That’s good. What are you calling about?”

“There was an explosion on one of our rigs in the Gulf. Now there’s a fire.”

“Dammit!” Nick swung out of bed. A tight knot of anger curled in his stomach. “Was anyone hurt?”

“Two men have been evacuated to a burn center.”

“Get the helicopter to meet me in Galveston. I can be there within the hour,” Nick said, grabbing jeans.

“Just hold tight and I’ll keep you posted. You don’t have to be out there fighting the fire. That’ll just worry your dad more. You’re going to have to break the news to him because he’s going to hear it in the morning anyway.”

“Tyler, you find out exactly what happened, down to the tiniest detail,” Nick said, anger burning him. “If there is anything that points to the Holcombs, I’m going to sell off that company of his bit by bit and wreck what I can’t sell.”

“I’ll get back with you.”

“I’ll call Dad in the morning. He doesn’t get up as early as he used to. The more casual I can be about it, the less concerned he’ll be. Maybe by that time, you’ll know more.”

“I’ll keep you posted.”

Nick replaced the receiver, staring at the phone speculatively. He stepped out of bed, because sleeping again was impossible. Remembering clearly Julia’s and Rufus’s threats, Nick doubled his fists. Had she been behind the destruction? Or had her grandfather?

At eight o’clock the next morning, Nick’s intercom buzzed and he listened to his secretary’s voice. “Julia Holcomb is on the phone and would like to see you today, if possible. Your calendar is clear in an hour and at two this afternoon.”

Surprised, he stared across his office and seethed with anger.

“I’ll see her in an hour,” he said flatly, his mind racing over what he wanted to do while he was curious about what she intended. He picked up a remote, switched on the news on the flat-panel television mounted on a wall across the room, and looked at images of what had been a productive Ransome oil rig only twenty-four hours earlier.

He stared while his anger climbed. Switching off the television, he tossed down the remote, picked up his phone and dialed Tyler’s cell number. In seconds, Tyler answered, static crackling.

“Any more news?” Nick asked.

“The fire expert is looking into the cause.”

“Remember that offer of a bet? Is it still on?”

“Bet?” Tyler sounded perplexed momentarily. “Ah, the horse and the car.”

“You’re on,” Nick snapped. “If the Holcombs want a fight, they’ll get a fight. If I seduce Julia within two weeks, I win your prize car.”

“And if you don’t, I want your horse,” Tyler replied, his voice fading.

“Keep me posted.”

“What? I’m losing you, Nick.”

Nick replaced the receiver and stared at the door, not seeing his office, but remembering Julia Holcomb’s blue eyes, her long legs. Revenge would be sweet. Seduction would be just the beginning.

As his appointment with Julia Holcomb approached, Nick glanced around, hoping that his office was bigger, finer and more intimidating than her own. Immediately, he had to laugh at himself. Never in his life had he felt that way with anyone, much less someone he was going to destroy.

He looked at the walnut paneling, the thick oriental carpet in muted colors, the oversized, polished mahogany table that served as his desk and brown leather furniture. The walls of his office held original oils by famous painters, art acquired on his trips to Europe. He was located on the eighteenth floor of the Ransome Building in downtown Dallas. He knew Holcomb Drilling was in a ten-story, suburban brick building that had been built about twenty years earlier to replace the old offices in downtown Dallas.

The intercom buzzed, and his secretary announced Julia’s arrival.

As the door closed behind Julia, he rose to his feet. She was as beautiful as he remembered. He hoped his features were as impassive as hers, but he couldn’t resist an appreciative head-to-toe glance. Taking in her tailored black suit and blouse, her blond hair coiled and pinned on her head, he wanted to tangle his fingers in that neat hairdo and watch those silky locks fall.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling at her. “Welcome to the wolf’s den.”

Two

“Good morning. I’m surprised you admit it,” Julia said, smiling as she crossed the room and extended her hand to shake Nick’s.

“Why wouldn’t I think this is a good morning?” he asked, something flashing in the depths of his dark eyes.

“Since I’m paying a call,” she answered.

In a long-legged easy stride, Nick came around from behind his desk. His charcoal suit added to his dark, handsome looks which she tried to avoid thinking about as much as she tried to ignore her excitement at the sight of him. She loathed dealing with Nick and beneath what she hoped was a cool, collected facade, she fought a rising panic over what Nick was about to do to her grandfather and what she could not stop.

When she shook hands with him, his fingers closed around hers, warm and firm, in a contact that sizzled to her toes. How could she be so physically drawn to him when emotionally she viewed him as a ruthless competitor? She withdrew her hand swiftly.

“Won’t you be seated,” he said, motioning her to a leather chair. He pulled another chair around to face her and sat only a few feet away. His brown eyes bore into her and she tried to remain cool.

She crossed her legs and noticed his gaze drifting down to her ankles. Just a look from him made her tingle. She was accustomed to having control of most aspects of her life and she was chagrined to discover her reaction to Nick Ransome today was as volatile as her response during the first few minutes in the restaurant parking lot.

“I know you won’t make this easy for me,” she said.

“I’m damned astounded you’re here,” he admitted with a frankness that took her by surprise.

Unable to avoid noticing how thickly lashed his dark eyes were, she stared back at him. “I thought we ought to get on better footing than we were last night.”

“I find that also amazing,” he added. He looked relaxed, sitting in the chair, one ankle on his knee, but she had a feeling that he was holding back fury. His dark brown eyes sparked with fire. His curly, dark brown hair softened his features slightly.

“I know we parted on a bad note last night—”

“That’s rather an understatement.”

“I thought perhaps I should try again to persuade you to let go your intentions to acquire Holcomb Drilling.”

“My objectives have been reinforced since dinner.”

“Your hostility has grown,” she said, wondering about his barely banked fury. “Maybe there’s no point in this visit.”

“Are you aware that one of our rigs burned in the night?”

“No, I didn’t know that.” She didn’t try to hide her surprise and then guessed the reason for his smoldering anger. “That’s what you’ve been referring to—”

“An explosion of an unknown origin caused the fire.” His words were clipped and his eyes blazed with anger.

“You’re blaming us?”

“Did Rufus hire someone to do it?” Nick cut in with a voice as cold as ice.

“No!” she exclaimed, furious that he would jump to conclusions without proof. “Granddad would never stoop to something like that. Or risk the lives of people who have nothing to do with the fight between the two of you. Never!”

“I’m afraid it’ll take more than your denial to convince me,” Nick said in what she thought was an annoying stubbornness to lay blame on her family.

“If there was an explosion or fire since we were together last night, aren’t you being premature in jumping to conclusions about the cause?” she asked. “I think it often takes time to discover what starts a fire.”

Something flickered in the depths of his dark eyes. “You’re right, of course,” he said pleasantly, his anger vanishing as if she had waved a magic wand. “Until I hear from the arson experts, I’ll hold my judgment about the cause.”

“That’s the only sensible thing to do,” she replied.

“In the meantime, what brings you to my office?” he asked in a pleasant tone, ignoring her sarcasm.

He smiled and waited. She gazed back steadfastly, her anger with him rising and becoming a tight, knot inside. She didn’t trust his friendliness for a second. He had turned it on like switching on a light, and the warmth in his voice couldn’t conceal the fiery anger in his eyes. Determined to not let him know how disturbed she felt, she concentrated on being civil and hiding her fury.

“I want to meet with you again, informally as we did last night, and see what we can work out,” she replied, hoping she sounded as relaxed and friendly as he had. “We both have old companies that were family-owned for many years. There aren’t many of those around any longer. I want to keep our company intact as long as Granddad is living. This company has been his whole life.”

“Perhaps your granddad shouldn’t have spread himself so thin,” Nick remarked dryly.

Banking her annoyance, she nodded. “Maybe, if you’re willing to try, we can work something out that will be to your satisfaction and ours. You surely will be reasonable enough to discuss the matter informally before the lawyers take charge tomorrow.”

She hoped she looked and sounded amiable, far from how she felt. She loved her granddad and if the company were taken from him, she was afraid it would be the end of him. He had devoted his life to it and now to see it in precarious straits kept her sleepless at night. The problem was compounded by the fact that it was Nick who was after Holcomb Drilling. The Ransomes and Holcombs were old enemies, forever business competitors. She stared into Nick’s brown eyes; his bland gaze belied the chemistry between them. Her breath caught. She couldn’t move or speak or think, and he was doing nothing except look at her. She was caught and held, her heart pounding loudly enough that she wondered if he could hear it. She hated her reaction, to him, yet she couldn’t prevent it.

“All right,” he agreed. “We’ll keep it informal. You and your granddad like boats and the water. I have a twenty-footer, give or take a few feet, that sleeps six. It’s docked in Galveston Bay. We can fly down there and spend the weekend on the water.”

Startled, she stared at him while she mulled his offer. “A weekend together? I had dinner in mind.”

He shrugged. “You wanted a casual, friendly meeting. A weekend on the water—we can stay out of each other’s way or talk, whatever we want to do. The weekend would be casual—and we’ll get to know each other and what each one of us wants,” he said pleasantly.

Her mind raced. She had never expected several days with Nick Ransome. Yet this might give her the chance to win him over and talk him into leaving Holcomb Drilling untouched. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. “What if I come without Granddad?” she asked, “I’d like to be able to speak freely without worrying him.”

“Fine,” Nick said, something again flickering in the depths of his eyes. “I think the weather is supposed to be good, so we should have a calm time.”

“The two of us together—a ‘calm’ time? I don’t think it’s possible.”

He gave her a taunting, crooked smile. “Then if not calm, interesting.”

“If we’re not at each other’s throats, it’ll be a smashing success,” she said. He touched the corner of her mouth, she tingled from the contact.

“There would be only one reason for me to be ‘at your throat,’” he drawled in a husky voice.

“Now you’re flirting,” she accused.

“Don’t sound so surprised. You’re a beautiful woman.”

“I rather distrust your motives for turning on your charm.”

“I meant what I said,” he insisted.

“Very well. A weekend on the water,” she said, not feeling the relief and satisfaction she had expected to feel if he agreed to getting together. “Since we’re going to talk more about the company, can we postpone tomorrow’s meeting and let our lawyers get together next week?”

“It’s fine with me to move the meeting. Make it a week from Friday,” Nick replied, flashing her a smile that curled her toes. His white teeth were a contrast with his dark skin; creases bracketed his mouth and heightened his appeal. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow about four and we can fly to Galveston,” he said, getting up to go around his desk for pen and paper. “Give me your address.”

“Write out where to meet you at the dock. I don’t mind the drive to Galveston and I have an errand to run on the way,” she said, not wanting to fly with him. She watched his well-shaped hands as he wrote an address. She stood and he moved beside her to show her what he had written.

He stood close enough that his shoulder and arm brushed against her. She could detect his enticing aftershave, feel the warmth from his body. Her drumming pulse was impossible to control.

There was no denying the reaction she had to Nick. Was she making a wise move to spend the weekend on Nick’s boat—just the two of them, plus his crew in the background? Yet it was the only way she could see to try to win Nick’s friendship so that he would at least listen to reason when they were ready to negotiate.

As it stood now, she and Nick were at loggerheads, and that would do nothing to win Nick Ransome over to doing what she wanted.

On the other hand, to be shut away with Nick for the weekend on a boat sent her heart racing into overdrive. She reassured herself that she and Nick wouldn’t really be alone, and they would be together only for the weekend.

As Nick gave her directions, she struggled to listen. He turned to face her, and they stood only inches apart.

“If you prefer, I’ll send a car to pick you up tomorrow—about four and you can still do your errands.”

“Thanks, but I’ll drive myself,” she replied, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a wicked grin.

“Scared to leave transportation behind?” he asked.

“Of course not, or I wouldn’t have suggested coming by myself,” she replied, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Taking the directions from his hand, she picked up her purse and headed for the door. Suddenly he was there in front of her, reaching around her. Instead of opening the door, he stepped closer and blocked her with his hand on the knob, his arm a barrier. She turned to look up at him.

“So is it going to be all business this weekend?” he asked in a husky, seductive voice that created a honeyed warmth in her.

“Probably not,” she replied breathlessly, wishing she could wrap him around her little finger and get what she wanted from him. Nick leaned closer and his gaze lowered to her mouth.

Her lips parted, tingling, but she moved around him and placed her hand over his on the knob. The instant she touched him, another fiery current simmered from her fingers to her toes.

She looked up at him. “I need to open the door.”

With a smile, he swung the door wide and then he followed her into the reception area. “Tomorrow afternoon about five or six.”

“Fine,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him. At the outer door, she looked back to find him still watching her. The minute she was in the hallway, her smile vanished. “What have I done?” she asked herself as she stepped into the empty elevator. “The only thing you could do,” she answered herself, butterflies still fluttering in her stomach, her palms sweaty from spending the past few minutes with Nick.

No man had ever disturbed her the way Nick had and that worried her most of all because she was usually in control of her responses.

All the rest of the day and far into the night, she weighed the pros and cons of spending a weekend with him. Yet she had to do something to try to get a satisfactory settlement, or even better, get Nick to back off and leave Holcomb Drilling unscathed.

The next afternoon, as she drove over the arching causeway to Galveston and looked below at sparkling blue water, she asked herself the same question worrying her constantly since leaving his office. Would this weekend help save Holcomb Drilling?

Could she resist Nick’s sex appeal? She reminded herself that all she had to do was remember what he intended to do to her heritage and future.

She shook her shoulders as if she banished a problem. How easy it was to think his appeal diminished when she was miles away from him!

“Be polite, professional,” she reminded herself, glancing at the rearview mirror. She wanted something from him and there was no hope of getting it if she exposed her fury.

In minutes she parked at the Galveston Yacht Club. She slipped her backpack and her purse over her shoulder and picked up her briefcase. Taking a deep breath as if going into a battle, she circled the yacht club and strolled down to the wharf to look for the slip with his boat. She spotted him in cutoffs, a T-shirt and wraparound sunglasses. He and another man were in a motorboat. When Nick saw her, he sprang to the dock and came striding forward to meet her.

It was warm and she’d worn cutoffs, a cotton shirt, deck shoes and sunglasses and she suspected that behind his dark glasses, he was giving her a quick, thorough assessment. An appraisal that she gave him in return while her pulse thudded. His T-shirt molded sculpted muscles, the short sleeves stretched by thick biceps. His chest tapered to a narrow waist, flat stomach and well-muscled legs. The cutoffs were brief and tight. She should have guessed that beneath those elegant suits he wore, he had muscles.

The same mixture of attraction and dislike gripped her. She hated his intentions to destroy her family’s business but, as a woman, she responded eagerly to Nick.

“You really intend to work,” he said, taking her briefcase from her.

“Certainly. That’s the whole point of getting together this weekend.”

“I thought my personality enticed you.”

She had to laugh at him. “With the lifelong differences between us? I don’t think so.”

“When you weren’t here half an hour ago, I thought you’d changed your mind about sailing with me,” he said.

“No. Just a slight delay,” she said, startled that he guessed that she’d almost canceled the weekend. Duty urged her to do what she could and spend time with him, so she was going to follow her conscience.

“Great,” he said, taking her arm. He waved her briefcase slightly. “I’ll make a bargain with you. In the interest of getting acquainted and laying some groundwork for keeping things civil between us, no business discussions until twenty-four hours from now. That way, we’ll have a pleasant weekend, get acquainted and get down to the nuts and bolts maybe tomorrow this time. How’s that for a deal?”

“Fine with me,” she said, looking into his unfathomable brown eyes and wondering what was behind his suggestion. Was he laying the groundwork for seduction? The mere speculation thrilled her in a way she hated.

“Good,” Nick replied cheerfully. “Come meet my captain, Luis.”

Nick jumped into the motorboat, causing it to rock slightly. He set down her briefcase, took her backpack and purse. Then his hands closed around her waist and he swung her into the boat. He lifted her easily and they gazed into each other’s eyes while he held her. Her hands rested on his forearms, where she detected the flex of solid muscles. Each contact heightened her reaction to him. He held her a fraction longer than necessary and she stood with her hands on his forearms when she could have stepped away. As she looked into his brown eyes, she knew he wanted her. He released her and turned to a man standing in the boat.

“Julia, this is Luis Reyna. Luis, this is Miss Holcomb.”

She greeted the tall black-haired man and then she sat in the front of the boat. She watched Nick’s muscles ripple and flex as he unfastened the line and pushed away, and in seconds, they chugged slowly from the dock.

“So where are we headed? I know we’re not spending the weekend in this,” she said, looking at a number of yachts and sailboats at anchor.

“There’s my boat, For Ransome,” he said, pointing to the southwest.

She followed his gaze to see a large, sleek yacht. “Give or take a few feet,” she said, repeating what he had told her about his boat. “It has to be over forty feet long,” she said, eyeing the white yacht that had teak accents and a thin gold stripe on the hull. Nick smiled and shrugged.

When they were alongside, a man dropped a ladder over the side. Nick took her backpack and purse and scrambled up, turning to help her, leaning down to circle her waist with his arm and swing her to the deck.

This time, he released her immediately. “Julia, this is Dorian Landry. Dorian, meet my guest, Miss Holcomb.”

She greeted the man and then walked away while the two men talked. Nick’s luxurious yacht exceeded her family’s large, comfortable sailboat, reinforcing her awareness of Nick as a powerful, formidable opponent no matter how sexy and appealing he appeared.

“Let me show you your cabin,” he said, catching up with her. She followed him down a companionway to a spacious starboard cabin with a cream berth in beige and white decor.

“Want to come above while we head out? We’ll travel along the coast. I’ll give you the official tour of my boat later.”

“Sure,” she said, setting down her things, aware that in spite of the roominess, Nick dominated the cabin with his height and presence. When they went above, to her surprise, Nick took the wheel and she glanced around. “Where’s Luis? And Dorian?”

“They’re headed back,” Nick said with a jerk of his head.

Startled, she frowned at Nick. “We’re alone?”

“Yes. I thought that’s what we agreed,” he replied, looking at her and his eyes narrowing. “Changed your mind? I can take you back.”

“No,” she answered, questions tumbling in her mind. Could they be civil to each other through the entire weekend? Would she be able to resist his charm? Could she cope with him alone for hours on end?

“Of course not,” she replied, hoping her voice sounded cool and composed and far from giving away mild panic. “I was just surprised that you didn’t keep a crew on board.”

“No need,” he answered easily, gazing ahead as if his thoughts were more on navigating than on her. “I like handling the boat and I’m sure you don’t want every minute of my time,” he remarked dryly, turning to meet her gaze. Electricity sparked between them and she couldn’t look away. Silence stretched, crackling with tension.

His dark chocolate, thickly lashed bedroom eyes could nail her and she wondered how much he saw. He was fit, handsome and she had to admire his drive and energy, which she wished he had directed somewhere besides at her family.

Did he know how she truly felt toward him, that the weekend was a sham? She wanted something from him and she intended to get it.

She inhaled, but she still couldn’t look away. Then his cell phone rang, breaking the spell. To give him privacy, she started to leave, but Nick motioned her to remain while he listened to his call.

“No, we’re not losing that property, Tyler. Go as high as you need to, but you see that we’re the buyers,” Nick said and then was quiet again. “I don’t care. Just acquire the leases, whatever you have to pay.” Another moment of silence. Wind had tangled his curly hair, and unruly locks just added to his handsome looks.

“We’re losing the connection, Tyler. You’ve got your authority and instructions.” Nick turned off the phone and set it down.

As she listened to him, descriptions materialized in her thoughts—sexy, ruthless, driven, handsome, good, bad and irresistible. His hands moved lightly over the wheel and he glanced at her. “I don’t exactly see approval in your expression.”