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She fished out her phone with the booster signal and dialed up her oldest brother, Broderick. With their dad in the throes of new love and planning a wedding, Broderick had become the de facto head of their family with orders from their father to make peace. Their dad had demanded that the Steeles and Mikkelsons unite as a family and a company. Get along—or sell their shares and move on.
Broderick had been charged with aligning the finances of the two companies, along with rival CFO Glenna Mikkelson. They’d surprised everyone by resuming their brief college romance...and now they were engaged and raising Glenna’s daughter together.
If Broderick and Glenna could balance romance and work, why couldn’t her father and his new “girlfriend” tend to the business angle, or at least participate more in the transition? The rest of them were barely treading water keeping up with the abrupt changes, keeping board members calm—and watching their backs as siblings on either side of the merged family jockeyed for top-dog position. The only Mikkelson son who seemed to be out of the running was Trystan, who managed their family’s ranch and insisted he wanted no part of anything that required a suit.
Naomi kept one ear on the shower and another on the phone. The call rang and rang, then went to voice mail. She tried again with no luck.
Looking at the one bar of connectivity, she knew her chance to phone out could be limited. Sighing, she quickly dialed her sister Delaney. She wasn’t as in-your-face as their brother about the business. But Delaney had a stubborn streak a mile long, especially when it came to ecological protection.
Perhaps her sister should have been her first call instead of Broderick.
Two rings in, Delaney picked up. “How’s it going?”
Naomi wandered to the curved sofa lining part of the igloo wall for a better vantage point to monitor the bathing area for the second Royce stepped out. “I’m getting to know him. But he’s not chatty. His dog’s a better conversationalist.”
Her sister laughed lightly. “But you’re talking to the great Dr. Royce Miller. That’s more than anyone else has managed to accomplish. I’m impressed.”
“I’ve got crazy-good lawyering skills.” She injected punch in her tone, more than she was feeling. She was fading fast energywise. What a strange, unexpected turn her expedition here had taken.
“That you do.”
“Was that an actual compliment?” Naomi teased, relaxing into the familiarity of a normal conversation with her sister. She was lucky to have a large family, three brothers and a sister. They were such a great support.
And as she thought of her family, she couldn’t help but think of her mother and her sister Brea, who were gone. Losing them had left such a hole in her heart—and a need for stability.
“Hey, was that insecurity, Naomi?” Delaney’s tone was anything but teasing. More like stunned.
Few knew that shy Delaney had far more fight in her than Naomi did. Delaney chewed up corporate types who showed disregard for the environment. Delaney’s latest target for scathing letters to the editors had been bigwig investor Birch Montoya, which did prove a bit problematic since the family business could use his financial endorsement, especially if they were to take on something as big as making Royce Miller’s style of changes.
If Naomi won Royce Miller.
“Insecurity?” Not that she would admit. “Never. It’s just nice to hear affirmation.” Especially at a time when she was questioning herself. So many changes. So many hormones. And she still had to face telling her family about the pregnancy. “Things are strange in the family right now. How were Dad and Jeannie at dinner last night? Sorry to have crashed early.” Pregnancy had made her so sleepy.
“Dad and Jeannie are the same. They’re like teenagers planning their wedding. Not that they’re waiting on the ceremony. That day Glenna and Broderick found them in the shower togeth—”
“Stop,” Naomi said fast, half laughing. “My brain is on fire with the image.”
“Imagine if we’d actually been there.” Delaney chuckled softly, then the sound dwindled. “The thing that’s starting to get to me though...if this was our mom and dad, we would think it was romantic. Granted, no one needs the full Monty.”
“Can you please stop with the naked references?” Her eyes drifted back to the shower area. To Royce. There was a sauna there too. Oh, the possibilities heated her thoughts.
Her warm forehead rested against the cool glass wall. Lights around the property barely pierced the blizzard.
“I never would have pegged you for a prude.”
Ouch, that stung, not that she intended to let Delaney know. “Well, it’s not like you’re in the middle of some torrid affair, either.”
Silence stretched between them.
Putting Naomi on alert. She straightened. “Are you?”
“My love life is tame. I’m too busy with work. You’re just imaging things after all that time you spent helping your friend revamp online dating profiles.”
Naomi sensed something in her sister’s voice beyond the simple teasing, but with a crackly cell phone reception, perhaps now wasn’t the best time to push on personal stuff. Though she couldn’t deny she was curious. “How’re things going with smoothing Birch Montoya’s ruffled feathers?”
“I’m working on it. It’s just...not that simple for me. I feel like we would be taking money from the devil, given his stance on protecting the environment.”
“Then that makes it all the more important for me to bring Royce on board to balance things out.” Naomi chewed her lip for a moment before adding, “It’s all so complicated.”
“The business as much as the family.” Delaney’s words carried a hefty sigh. “It’s not that I don’t want Dad to move on. I’m just having trouble with him choosing a life with her.”
And from all indications, Jeannie Mikkelson’s kids were having a difficult time with the shocker romance, as well. Sure, Jeannie’s husband had been dead for two years—of a heart attack. But the families had been at war for so long. So many harsh words and character assassinations had taken place. And the gossip. Someone went so far as to hint the Mikkelsons had played a part in the fatal plane crash that killed Brea and their mother—completely unsubstantiated and unbelievable. But investors were going to find it tough to overlook divisions so deep and public.
Naomi toyed with a lock of her hair. “Broderick is marrying a Mikkelson. Are you saying that’s a problem?”
“I’m just saying it’s not easy.”
Back in college, Broderick and Glenna had indulged in a poorly hidden brief affair, then split up. Glenna had married someone else and become a widow before reuniting with Broderick very recently.
“And now they have a precious baby.” A baby conceived when Glenna’s husband had an affair shortly before he came down with pancreatic cancer and died. And yet, Glenna and Broderick still loved Fleur unconditionally. They were in the process of making the adoption official after the baby had been abandoned by her mother.
Naomi’s hand slid over her stomach and she wondered if her child would have a father’s love someday.
“Fleur’s pretty awesome.” The smile in Delaney’s voice was unmistakable. “You should see her wave her fists. I’m certain she’s bumping my fist on purpose.”
“Of course she is,” Naomi joked right back. “Sing her an extra lullaby from Aunt Naomi.”
“You can’t carry a tune.”
“That’s why you’re going to sing it for me.” The shower silenced in the bathroom. Naomi’s heart did a flip against her rib cage. She really needed a game plan for dealing with the sexy scientist before he emerged. “Gotta go now. Love you.”
She thumbed her phone off fast and bent over to shove it in her backpack, making sure the security code locked the screen. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, as if she was being watched. She checked the dog, but Tessie was sound asleep and snoring which could only mean...
Naomi straightened slowly and turned to find Royce. Big and awake and sexy, he stood in low-slung sweatpants, towel-drying his hair. He watched her with so much heat in his eyes, she barely resisted the urge to drag a finger down the glass windows to check for steamy condensation.
* * *
Delaney Steele had a secret.
Sliding the cell phone into her coat pocket, she hoped what she’d been doing—was about to do again—wouldn’t wreck her sister’s plan with Royce Miller.
But she just couldn’t bring herself to tell Naomi.
Stepping out of her SUV into the snowy parking lot, Delaney braced herself for the walk into the Steele family headquarters. Wind whipped hard off the mountains, bringing a frosty bite against her cheek until she yanked up the deep hood of her parka.
Maybe Delaney was too adept at keeping things hidden, until it just became instinct. Such as how she wasn’t as shy as she pretended to be. Or how she’d kissed her sister’s boyfriend in high school. Or that she was scared of everyone’s dogs, but didn’t want to hurt their feelings.
Or how she fought survivor’s guilt every day of her life.
She’d pretended to have the flu before the fateful flight that had shattered her family. Her mother had discovered the faked fever. Delaney had begged her mom not to go. Silly really. She’d just wanted her to stay to go shopping for makeup. Naomi had offered to accompany Delaney instead. Case closed.
Their mom and sister, Brea, had left for the flight—late. If they’d been on time...
What-ifs could rule a life.
Messenger bag tucked under her arm, Delaney put her head down and trudged forward, boots crunching through the icy crust that no amount of salting and shoveling could clear on mornings like this one. Forward was the only way she knew, after all.
These days, with so many regrets, she lived each day determined to grasp what she wanted and not add a single new item to that list. So hell no, she wasn’t even close to being the crusader, the good girl her family believed. She’d only wanted to somehow make a mark, somehow help other families not suffer the pain hers had experienced.
She just hoped her current secret didn’t torpedo all of Naomi’s careful plans. Because Delaney was in so deep now, she wasn’t sure she could stop herself if she tried.
Three (#uc2a845e6-38b8-5e2e-8e66-a088f32b2a8a)
Royce never would have imagined silk thermals on a woman could look sexier than any lingerie.
Not that he could think of any woman other than Naomi at the moment. This one was filling his every thought.
Which wasn’t a wise idea when they would be sharing a one-room studio igloo-cabin for an undetermined amount of time. It wasn’t like he could jog off his pent-up sexual tension outside. The snowstorm was still raging. Even getting his dog to make the requisite “nature’s breaks” outdoors was tough. Tessie bolted out into the igloo tunnel, had her moment and sprinted back into the shelter in record time. She shook snowflakes off her shaggy coat, creating a mini flurry indoors.
Too bad they couldn’t all just hibernate.
Last night, he’d kept his eyes averted when Naomi had come out of the restroom, because just the sound of her movements, the scent of her, was distraction enough. And yes, once he’d given up and stretched out on the sofa, he’d watched her sleep. The covers had been pulled up to her shoulders, but the moonlight had played over her face.
It had been a long time since he’d slept with a woman. More than a year. There were offers, but lately work had consumed his life. He didn’t have time for a relationship. This was a turning point in his research, everything coming together at just the right time.
To be honest, he was racing to finalize his work because the Alaskan pipeline production through Canada and into the Dakotas would ramp up sooner rather than later. If anything, the Steele-Mikkelson merger had accelerated the program since their major Alaskan competitor, Johnson Oil United, was sending signals of speeding their plans while the Steele-Mikkelsons were preoccupied with the merger.
And the more the businesses raced against each other, the more Royce worried. This wasn’t the type of industry to rush, and the Johnsons already showed some hints of corner cutting. Even minuscule miscalculations could prove deadly or leave long-lasting contamination concerns. He couldn’t afford distractions.
And no question, this woman was a major distraction.
There was something about Naomi...something he couldn’t identify that tugged at him, a feeling that he couldn’t shake. That there was more than met the eye with her. In a good or bad way? He didn’t know.
Although he did know he needed to be on his toes around her until he figured her out.
He looped the towel around the doorknob and reached for his Massachusetts Institute of Technology—MIT—sweatshirt, mulling over the best way to learn more about her. He needed to find a chink in that spunky facade, to see who she was on the inside and discover if a quirk of fate had truly brought her here. Or if there might be another reason she was holed up with him. Regardless, she intrigued him.
Tugging on the thick fleece, he stepped deeper into the room, aware of her sharp, analytic eyes. “So, you grew up in Alaska?”
“I did.” She curled her toes in her socks and sat on the edge of the sofa.
“Could you have handled that bear on your own?”
“Maybe. Okay, probably,” she said, smiling, her nose crinkling, knees bouncing nervously. “But I enjoyed watching you take over.”
“How magnanimous of you.” His dry tone cut her smile. She exchanged it for a wink before readjusting on the couch, a shift that revealed her curves more fully.
“Your ego seems solid.” She looked at him squarely, but her twitching increased.
He dropped to sit at the end of the sofa, searching her deep brown eyes. “What’s really going on here with you showing up?”
She stared back for a solid, sparking sixty seconds or so before shooting to her feet. “I have to go to the restroom.”
And just that fast, she bolted away, the bathroom door slamming and locking behind her.
* * *
Naomi had never been so glad to take advantage of a pregnancy symptom.
She had to use the bathroom at least twice as often these days, which made the one-facility situation here a tricky element she hadn’t considered in driving up to the secluded cabin. But as Royce had pressed her with questions, she’d been glad for the excuse to leave the room.
Brushing away morning breath went a long way too in clearing her sleep-fogged mind. Now that she’d had time to fully wake up, she had a plan.
She had decided to take a calculated risk.
Royce was a man of logic, a scientist. So, she intended to throw him for a loop, knock him off balance. Opting for outrageous remarks had worked well for her in the past in getting people to say things they might not have otherwise. And then with laughter and the sharing of even a little secret, they relaxed, revealing more as the rapport strengthened.
Such a tactic might well work in her favor now.
Naomi left the bathroom cubicle and leaned against the archway leading into the studio area. Royce moved efficiently in the kitchen, cooking bacon, sausage, and popping large slices of fresh wheat bread onto a toaster slab that fit in the fireplace.
Her mouth watered and her senses tingled on high alert. Because of her pregnancy or because of the man?
She reminded herself of her mission. She tugged the hem of her boring thermal shirt and asked, “Wanna play strip poker? I’ll trade you clothes for first dibs on that food.”
He glanced over his broad shoulder. “Do you always proposition strangers?”
“Only you.” She fluffed her dark hair, a seductive challenge in her subtle moves.
He turned his attention back to the meal at hand. Unfazed. A low, rumbling chuckle. “Ah, you’re being outrageous to get me to stop thinking and reveal—something?—to you.”
He was smart, quick-witted, not easily fooled. “Very insightful.”
“So sarcastic.” Facing him, she couldn’t help but notice the solidity of his chest beneath his MIT sweatshirt.
“But you’re talking to me now rather than hiding behind your computer.” He raised one brow and for a moment, almost too brief to register, a flicker of amusement danced across her face, smiling, bowing in...interest?
Dragging his attention from her back to the breakfast food seemed to be no easy task. He scrambled and flipped the eggs once more. His hands moved with such precision, the mark of a man with an ingrained attention to detail. Her mouth dried up at the vision of those hands paying precise attention along her body.
“True enough.” He stalked quietly toward the kitchen area, pulling out plates for each item.
His eyes met hers, and there it was—that pop of electricity, something warming her to her core. The fluttering in her stomach intensified. Not pregnancy related, but a reminder of what her future held.
Royce dumped the sausage links and bacon onto a plate, arranged them neatly in a row. He fished out the four pieces of freshly toasted bread. The yeasty smell mixed with the savory smell of bacon and sausage.
He met her gaze, held it before he spoke. “Keep your clothes. I could stand a big breakfast too. What do you want to discuss?”
Naomi scratched just behind her ear, collecting her cool after spending even more time drooling over the man than the food. Deciding her strategy as he set out fresh jams on the small counter in front of her. The spread was vast, especially given their minimalist setting.
