скачать книгу бесплатно
“The Steele and Mikkelson families’ new charity foundation is looking for more ways to make a difference at the hospital. One of those ways is to provide children with new books, volumes they can keep so there’s no risk of germ cross-contamination with shared materials.”
How could she find fault with that plan? She couldn’t. “That’s really thoughtful. I’m sure the children and parents will be very grateful.”
Finances could become strained with long-term hospitalizations, so much so that even buying books was a luxury.
“Today’s package for each child included a copy of the story they just heard.” A half smile tugged on his mouth, those signature Steele eyes full of promise.
It had been a riveting tale, no question, especially when read by a larger-than-life cowboy. “You said ways—plural—of helping here. What else is the foundation doing?”
She was curious, yes. But she also needed to know where to avoid him so she didn’t keep testing her resolve where he was concerned.
“The vote was taken yesterday, so technically, it’s okay for me to share now even though the press release won’t go out until tomorrow.” His smile widened and her stringent resolve waned.
“Okay, I’ll admit it. You’ve got my interest—on a professional basis only.”
His brows shot up almost imperceptibly. “Of course.” His smile was confident—and sexy. “We’re making a donation to the oncology ward in honor of my niece. They’ll be renaming it, to be made official at a dinner for the hospital board of directors and the charity foundation board.”
His words sunk in. This wasn’t a simple book drop-off or some quickly concocted plan to bump into her in passing. He and his family’s charitable foundation had a genuine, vested interest in being a part of this hospital’s financial landscape.
Realization filled her with the inescapable truth—and she couldn’t deny a shiver of excitement. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”
Stetson in hand, Conrad watched Felicity walk away in a huff down the hospital corridor.
He was definitely getting under her skin, and that was a good thing. Damn straight, he wasn’t going anywhere. He had wanted her since the first time he’d seen her. He’d worked to win her over since then, not an easy task as she was still stinging from her divorce. But then, he wasn’t one to shy away from a battle.
Letting his gaze linger on her, he stepped away from the vending machines and back into the flow of foot traffic in the wide corridor, winter coat over his arm. Felicity’s sleek brown hair was pulled back into a neat French twist, midday sunlight through the window reflecting off honey-colored streaks.
Her pin-striped skirt was both professional yet also appealing in an understated way as it hugged her curves, sweeping down to touch the top of her knee-length leather boots. The ruffles on her blouse drew his eyes to her neck and wrists. Not that it took much to bring his attention to her.
He was selective, dating professional women who weren’t interested in a walk down the aisle. He’d had a brief marriage and a near miss, having been left at the altar by his fiancée. His attempts at happily-ever-after had left him gun-shy.
Then when his older brother had lost his wife and child in a plane crash, seeing his brother’s unrelenting grief had cemented Conrad’s resolution to stay single. He’d devoted himself to helping bring up his nieces and nephews. He loved kids. It hadn’t been a hardship to lend a hand to his overburdened big brother, Jack. Conrad was fifteen years younger and had energy and time to spare. He couldn’t help wondering, though, if the fact that his brother’s kids were grown now attributed to some restlessness on Conrad’s part.
His gaze zoned back in on Felicity as she stepped into an elevator. She certainly had his attention and he imagined she would have at any time in his life. He’d hoped things would go a little more smoothly today, but he also enjoyed a good challenge.
He started toward the elevators just as the double set of electric doors opened, a blast of cold air gusting inside. A familiar face stopped him short. Marshall. His nephew. The middle child in Jack Steele’s brood, Marshall was a bit of a recluse, preferring to oversee the original homestead ranch. He’d never voiced an interest in the day-to-day operations of the family’s oil business.
They’d all had to step up, though, when Jack Steele had become engaged to the widowed matriarch of their corporate rival, the Mikkelson family. Shortly after that, Jack had suffered a fall from a horse that could have killed him, but didn’t. Still, it had left him with a recovery from spinal surgery that had lasted months.
Even though Jack had married Jeannie Mikkelson, the family had still been in turmoil at a critical juncture in the merger into the combined companies that became Alaska Oil Barons Inc., with stock prices fluctuating as a result. They needed to provide a unified, stable front. Hopefully the charity foundation—with both the Steeles and Mikkelsons at the helm—would help blend the families while also reassuring investors.
Marshall closed the last few feet between them, shaking snow off the brim of his hat. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
“Everything’s fine.” They were all still a little jumpy after Jack’s accident, and then Shana Mikkelson’s aneurysm. A larger family meant more cause for concern as well as happiness. “I was delivering the books to the children’s ward, am just finishing up reading one.”
“Seriously? I suspect a different agenda here.” Marshall’s brown eyes narrowed, the quiet perception in the depths so like the gaze of Marshall’s mother, who’d died in a plane crash. “Felicity’s working here full-time now, isn’t she?”
“I recall reading to you when you were a kid,” Conrad dodged neatly.
“As I recall, you were doing it then for extra credit for your high school English class.”
He waved dismissively. “Two birds with one stone. I’m a multitasker.”
“Ah, like today.” Marshall held up a hand. “No worries if you don’t want to talk about Felicity. I’m here to pick up Tally and take her to lunch. Are you still coming by tomorrow with Nanuq and Shila?”
He’d been housing a couple of horses for Marshall since one of his two barns had burned and he needed some flex space for his animals while the rebuilding was under way. The aesthetics weren’t complete, but the stalls were secure and warm. Nanuq and Shila, which meant white bear and flame, were ready for transport.
“Absolutely. See you then.”
In fact, he could use a ride to work out the tension he would no doubt feel after the impending confrontation with Felicity. Before the day was out, she would learn just how closely they would be working together.
Striding down the hospital corridor toward her office, Felicity wished it was as easy to haul her thoughts away from the first-floor lobby and one big sexy distraction in a Stetson.
But then her nerves had been a mess since she’d bumped into Conrad. She needed to get herself together before the meeting with her new boss. Felicity wove by a nurse with a vitals cart and a cluster of visitors lost in their conversation.
Her new supervisor had been cryptic about the reason for the meeting other than to say it was about a way for Felicity to make a mark in her job. Her interest was piqued. She couldn’t get there fast enough. Looking down to pull her notes from her portfolio bag, she nearly slammed into someone—
Tally Benson, waving at her.
“Hello there,” her friend exclaimed in surprise. “I’m just finishing up volunteering. I thought I wasn’t going to see you today. How’s the new job?”
“I’m excited about the opportunity.” The words sounded hollow in Felicity’s mouth, making her wonder why she bothered faking emotions with her friends. Back in high school, she’d briefly tried out for a school production of King Lear because her foster mom loved Shakespeare. During the course of her tryouts, Felicity had realized masking her feelings required a lot more work than actors onstage and on-screen made it out to be.
Strangely, during her work, she’d never had to fake an emotion she didn’t feel. Her deep well of empathy supplied her strength as she moved through the difficult spaces of social work.
Today, she felt like that high schooler reading lines. The words didn’t match her body’s articulation of apprehension, intrigue.
“Then why are you frowning?” Tally scrunched her nose.
Felicity adjusted her lanyard, unable to resist asking, “Did you know that Conrad is reading to the kids in pediatrics?”
She opted to dodge the question that had too much of a matchmaking vibe. “I’ve heard the family’s charitable foundation has big plans for the hospital.”
And that level of donation couldn’t be a simple romantic ploy. Renaming a wing involved a significant amount of money. She felt small for having accused him of reading to the kids for show.
Felicity forced a smile. “The hospital is lucky to have such a generous benefactor.”
“To be honest, I’m a little overwhelmed by the family. There are so many of them.” And the redhead would certainly know that since not too long ago she’d been hired to help Marshall around the house while he recovered from a broken arm. Now they were a couple. “But the charity foundation has been a rewarding way to get to know them.”
When the Steele patriarch had married his rival’s widow, the business world had been full of reports about the merger of their two companies and there had been fluctuations in the market with concerns about who would take the helm. There still hadn’t been an official announcement of who would be the CEO for the newly formed Alaska Oil Barons Inc., but she’d heard rumblings they were closing in on a choice.
“Oh,” Felicity remembered, reaching into her portfolio bag, “I have your letter of recommendation ready.” She had convinced Tally to apply for a scholarship to pursue a degree in social work. The woman was a natural.
Tally’s smile beamed, her eyes watering. “Thank you.” She took the envelope, sliding it carefully into her purse. “Your support and encouragement means the world to me. I’m afraid to get my hopes up that I’ll get in, much less receive the scholarship.”
Hope was a scary thing, no question. Felicity remembered too well how difficult it had been to trust in a positive future after her divorce. “I’m rooting for you. Let me know the minute you hear.”
“I will,” Tally promised, giving her a quick hug. “I should let you go. Let’s do lunch soon and catch up. My treat.”
“Sounds great. Let’s keep in touch...” Felicity backed away with a smile and a wave before spinning toward her new office. She lifted her key card and swiped her way into the space—all hers with a window of her own. She could see the snowy mountains and make the most of what little daylight there was during an Alaska winter. She still had boxes stacked in the corner, but had started unpacking the most important items first. Starting with a bulletin board of thank-you notes from parents and newly adopted clients, along with a few childishly drawn pictures she’d framed. These meant more to her than any accolades, seeing how her work made life better for children who were helpless.
She understood the feeling too well.
Swallowing back a wad of emotion, she searched through the stack of files on her desk until she found the one she was looking for under a brass paperweight, a Texas buffalo. She glanced at the clock and gasped. She needed to get moving.
She locked her door, then raced down the hall toward the elevator bank, her leather boots scuffing against the tile floor in her speed. Just ahead, an elevator door began to slide close.
“Wait,” she called. “Please hold that elevator.”
A hand shot out and the doors bumped back open. Sighing in relief, she angled through sideways.
“Thank you,” she said breathlessly. “I’m running late for a meeting.”
A masculine voice chuckled from the other side of the packed elevator.
A familiar masculine voice.
She closed her eyes. “Hello, Conrad.”
What were the odds?
Gathering her composure, she opened her eyes to find him standing next to a young nurse who was making no effort to hide checking him out. And he gave no acknowledgment to the flirtatious behavior, which Felicity had to admit moved her. He dated widely, but she’d never heard a negative word about him from other women.
Damn it. She didn’t need these thoughts. “Fifth floor, please.”
She made a point of reviewing the proposal she wanted to give her boss about a new playlist of music and movies for the children in oncology during treatment time.
The elevator slid open again and the cluster of occupants departed, leaving Felicity alone with Conrad. It must have been too much to hope for that he would leave too and make this easier on her. Another part of her whispered that his presence shouldn’t bother her this much.
He stepped up alongside her. “Would you like to go out to dinner?”
She tucked her papers away. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”
“Don’t you want to know more about the foundation’s plans for the hospital?”
She looked up sharply, her gaze colliding with his. A shiver rippled through her as the spicy scent of his aftershave filled her breaths in the small confines of the elevator. Quite simply put, he was yummy, and also offering information she craved.
“I’m intrigued. But I have to say no thank you to dinner.”
He chuckled softly.
“Laughing at me certainly isn’t going to win me over.”
“Trust me, I’m not laughing at you. You do amuse me, but it’s your wit, which I admire and find sexy as hell.” He grinned at her. “Am I doing better?”
Sighing, she searched his face, his too-damn-handsome face. “I don’t understand why you’re still pursuing me.”
“You’re just that amazing.” His eyes held hers again, stirring more of those tingles up and down her spine, making her imagine what it would be like to lean into him, just a hint.
The elevator doors slid open, the movement and people on the other side jarring her out of her daze. Securing her bag, she stepped forward. There was no denying the attraction between them. That had never been in question.
Even now, she could swear she felt the warmth of him just behind her. Because she did.
He’d followed her out of the elevator, on the very floor of her meeting with her boss about an exciting new opportunity. On the very day Conrad had mentioned his family’s charity foundation beginning new endeavors at Anchorage General. With the children. Foreboding swelled through her.
Gesturing forward, Conrad smiled. “It’s going to be a pleasure working together.”
Two (#uc1827e3b-03a2-5f39-b80d-7343adb70074)
Conrad knew better than to push his luck.
He held the door open for Felicity on their way back out of her boss’s office an hour later. Follow-up meetings had been scheduled for brainstorming potential initiatives for the Steele-Mikkelson charity foundation, to best utilize their donations. They just needed to coordinate with Isabeau Mikkelson for times that worked for her as well, since she was the foundation’s official PR person.
Their primary goal? To have a prospectus in place to unveil at the banquet for the board next month. The next four weeks would offer the perfect opportunities to win over Felicity.
And if she still said no after that? He didn’t want to believe that would happen. But he also wasn’t a jerk. It wasn’t like the two of them had fallen in love at first sight.
Still, he was certain they could have one hell of an affair.
He stopped at the elevator, the set of her shoulders telling him he’d pushed his luck far enough for one day. He pulled out his phone and stepped away from the sliding doors. She shot a surprised look his way and he stifled a smile, surfing his emails by the window to check for updates before heading back to the office.
An hour later, he strode down the corridors of the Alaska Oil Barons Inc.’s corporate offices. He served on the board of directors for his brother’s company, while maintaining an investment business of his own.
Windows along the length of the corridor overlooked the frozen harbor. The other wall was lined with framed artistic photographs of the Alaskan countryside. This building had been the Steele offices, and since the merger, it was the primary headquarters. The Mikkelson tower was still open and filled to capacity, and the styles of the two offices had begun to merge. The chrome decor of the Steele building now sported some metal-tipped teak pieces.
Conrad opened the conference room door. The lengthy table was already more than halfway full. At the head, his brother, Jack sat, beside his new wife, Jeannie Mikkelson-Steele, whose influence extended well beyond changes to the furniture.
Jack leaned back in his seat, waving his brother into the room. “We’re just waiting for Naomi to arrive. How did things go at the hospital?”
Conrad rolled a chair away from the table and placed his briefcase on the sleek, polished wood. “The kids were grateful for the books and the story time.”
Jack smiled slowly. “I was talking about the meeting with Felicity Hunt, her boss and the hospital’s PR director.”
Taking his seat, Conrad used the excuse of pulling out paperwork to delay answering the question. The last thing he needed was an overeager family spooking Felicity.
From his briefcase, he pulled an extra copy of the children’s book he’d read at the hospital. He passed the paperback to Glenna Mikkelson-Steele—Jeannie’s oldest daughter. “I brought this for Fleur.”
To everyone’s surprise, Glenna had married Jack’s oldest son, who many had thought would assume the family helm. But Broderick had held firm to his position of splitting the CFO duties with his wife so they could focus on their growing family. Everyone in the family was stretched thin, and the acting CEO had moved to North Dakota for a less taxing position so he could spend more time with his wife and start a family.
The board was in final talks trying to lure Ward Benally from the competition. Landing him would be a coup. He worked for a rival company and was a respected—and feared—leader in the oil industry. Benally was also a tough negotiator—which made hammering out a contract a challenge, but it would be a boon if they pulled it off.
Conrad was doing his best to help his family through the transition of the merger. He slid another copy to the far end of the table where Trystan Mikkelson—black sheep of the family—sat with his very pregnant wife. The company’s PR consultant, Isabeau Mikkelson, rested one hand on her very pregnant stomach and her other hand on her service dog’s head. The Labrador retriever assisted in alerting to Isabeau’s diabetes, especially important with a baby on the way.
Jack snagged an extra copy from his brother’s briefcase, fanning through the pages. “And your meeting?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Conrad evaded while pulling his tablet from his briefcase. “I attended. We discussed data and look forward to having Isabeau at the next meeting.”
“And Felicity was okay with being the point person with you when Isabeau’s unavailable?” Jack pressed.