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Three
Sage had her personal assistant, Will Bailey, reschedule her afternoon appointments. She was buried in work, but the most important thing she had facing her right now was the upcoming deal with the Saudis. Today, Jake Cantrell had caught her unprepared, and that wasn’t going to happen again. She skipped lunch and had Will bring her a ham sandwich off the meal cart that circled the floors every day.
For most of the afternoon, she sat in front of her computer, poring over Middle East business protocols and reading every article she could find on the customs of Saudi Arabia. The more she read, the more she discovered she didn’t know. And the more disturbing she found the information.
She had always been independent. It was hard to imagine living under the oppressive restrictions a Saudi woman was forced to bear.
Sage reminded herself that these people were from another country, another part of the world, and she had to respect their values and lifestyle. They were here as Dumont family guests and she would treat them accordingly.
She finished reading one last article on the screen, feeling even more exhausted than she had before. She had half an hour before Cantrell was due to pick her up. Allowing herself a brief respite to recover a little of her energy, she closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair.
“Napping, Ms. Dumont?”
She shot upright in her chair, nearly launching herself across the desk. She blinked, her gritty eyes focusing on the imposing man standing in front of her.
“I was working. I—I must have nodded off.” Why was it he always caught her off guard? Damn the man for his timing, among other things.
“Maybe eating something will help.”
“I had a sandwich earlier off the cart,” she said a little defensively.
Cantrell looked at her as if sizing her up. “That’s not much. You ready to go?” He wasn’t wearing the suit he’d had on earlier, but a pair of faded jeans that hugged his long, powerful legs, and a dark blue T-shirt. The T-shirt stretched over a chest that was ridiculously wide and banded with muscle. She had to tear her gaze away.
“I need to make a quick trip to the washroom,” she said, “then we can leave.” There was a private bathroom in the office, one of the privileges of being a VP. Grabbing her purse, she darted inside, made a toilet stop, brushed her teeth, applied a little fresh lipstick. She straightened her ivory suit jacket as she walked back out the door.
Cantrell was waiting, taking up far more of her spacious office than most men did. She felt those blue eyes on her, assessing her in some way, and a little curl of heat settled low in her belly. She wondered what those perceptive eyes saw when he looked at her.
He followed her to the door, but it opened before she reached it, and her fiancé walked in. Immaculately dressed in an Italian designer suit, six feet tall and lean, with blond hair, hazel eyes and darkly tanned skin, Phillip looked as if he had just stepped off a Ralph Lauren billboard.
His gaze went to Cantrell, then returned to Sage. “I thought we were going to dinner.”
“I’m sorry, Phillip. Didn’t you get my message?” She sighed. “Ian hired Mr. Cantrell to help me learn the protocols before the Saudis arrive. We have to work on that tonight.”
“I see.”
“Phillip Stanton, this is Jake Cantrell.”
Phillip extended his hand. Jake shook it and stepped away, clasped his hands in front of him and splayed his legs, going into bodyguard mode. Phillip eyed him sharply. Sage caught a hint of disdain. Clearly, Phillip wasn’t happy that she would be working with Jake.
“Ian mentioned you,” he finally said to Cantrell. “He told me you would be providing protection for Sage while the sheik and his family are here.”
“That’s right.”
“Ian can be ridiculously protective.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he’s just being smart.”
A muscle tightened in Phillip’s lean cheek. He was better-looking than Cantrell, Sage decided, but the bigger man was far more imposing. She tried not to draw a comparison, which Cantrell would surely lose. Phillip held an MBA from Princeton. He knew classical music, appreciated art and ballet. Things they enjoyed together. Cantrell was a marine who knew how to fire a gun.
Which, she noticed as he turned to the side, probably explained the lump in the waistband of his jeans beneath his T-shirt. Surely he didn’t think it was necessary to carry a weapon. She made a mental note to broach the subject as soon as they were alone.
“Are you sure you can’t put this off until tomorrow?” Phillip asked her, positioning himself between her and Jake.
“I wish I could. You know how important it is to me, Phillip.”
“Of course, darling.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek, flashed a look at Jake. “Take care of her, Cantrell.”
Jake’s mouth edged up. “I plan to.”
There was something in the way he said it that made her feel like blushing. Phillip cast him a last hard glance and walked out of the office.
Sage waited long enough for Phillip to reach the elevator, hoping to avoid any more of the subtle tension swirling between the men. Then, slinging her leather bag over her shoulder, she started once more for the door.
“There’s a Chinese Express just down the block,” she said. “We can go there.”
“I’ve got a table for us at Bella’s Cusina. It’s only a few blocks farther.”
She glanced back at him. It was a power play, pure and simple, a move to let her know she might be a Dumont, but he was the one in charge.
“You won’t be on the job,” he reminded her.
“So you’re the boss tonight, is that it?”
“Exactly.”
She blew out a breath. What did it matter? It was only dinner. Besides, she had to admit there was a tiny part of her that liked when a man took charge.
It didn’t happen often. And it wouldn’t last long.
“Italian sounds great. If you want to know the truth, I’m starving.”
Cantrell smiled. It was the first real smile she had seen and it made her breath catch. This wasn’t good.
Walking together across the reception area, they stepped into an elevator and headed downstairs. There was a security guard at the desk in the lobby. He came in after closing and stayed until midnight, then someone else took over till the company opened in the morning.
“We’ll be back a little later, Marvin,” she said to the guard, a big, pudgy black man with a kindly face. “By the way, this is Jake Cantrell. He’s providing security for the next few days. It’s all right for him to go in and out whenever he needs to.”
“That’s what Mr. Dumont said.”
She should have known her grandfather would make it easy for Cantrell to do his job. Ian wanted her safe. He was determined.
“Your grandfather gave me a parking pass,” Jake said. “My Jeep’s in the executive lot. With those shoes, maybe you’d better ride.”
She looked down at her Jimmy Choos. Riding would be good. “Might be hard to find a parking space at the restaurant.”
“I don’t think so. Not this time of night.”
He led her to a fancy black Jeep that seemed the perfect fit for him, having big wide tires with chrome rims and a roll bar that would show when the top was down. Which, thankfully, it wasn’t. As hot as it was, she was glad to get in out of the heat.
He helped her climb inside, which wasn’t that easy in a snug skirt and high heels. As she snapped her seat belt into place, Cantrell rounded the car, then slid in behind the wheel and cranked the engine.
It didn’t take long to reach the restaurant, and since most people in the downtown area went home after work, there were parking places in the lot. The maître d’, a little man with slicked-back black hair, greeted them effusively. Clearly, he knew Cantrell.
Or maybe he was just afraid of him. Sage hid a grin.
“Mr. Cantrell, it’s good to see you. I have your table ready, if you’ll come this way?”
“Thanks, Mario.” A big hand settled at her waist as Jake guided her to a table with a red-checked cloth and a little red candle in the middle. Typical Italian, but the place seemed downright homey. Sage liked it right away.
She sat down and picked up a menu. When the waiter arrived, she ordered the pasta primavera with extra vegetables.
“I’ll have the lasagna, and bring us a couple glasses of Chianti.” Jake glanced over at her. “Unless you’d like something else?”
“I’d love a glass, but I wasn’t planning to drink. I need to have my wits about me.”
“You don’t have to finish it.” He nodded at the waiter and the man disappeared, returning a few minutes later with the wine.
Sage took a sip, glad Jake had ordered it, after all. She felt suddenly nervous as she looked across the table at the handsome man.
“So you’re going to marry Phillip Stanton,” he said, taking a drink of his wine.
“That’s right. We thought maybe sometime next year.”
“But you don’t live together. Your grandfather mentioned that when we discussed some of the security issues.”
“No. Phillip spends a great deal of time out of the country. In fact, the day after tomorrow he’s returning to his office in Edinburgh.”
“Makes things a lot easier.”
She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that, especially when she noticed the way those blue eyes slid over her.
Cantrell turned his attention to business, pulling folded sheets of paper out of his back pocket. “First, I’ve got a couple of questions.”
“Fire away.”
“How long will the Saudis be here?”
“The trip is open-ended. I’m hoping not more than a week. They arrive on Tuesday. I figure we should give them Wednesday to relax, then bring them into the office on Thursday and begin the negotiations.”
With a faint smile, Cantrell started shaking his head.
Sage knew right then it was going to be a very long night.
* * *
Jake leaned back in his chair. He had a nice view of a very pretty woman, all smooth skin, golden eyes and softly curling dark brown hair. For several long moments he allowed himself to enjoy it, didn’t even fight the hardening of his body beneath the table. Unfortunately, his relationship with Sage Dumont was strictly business. He intended to remind himself of that on a daily basis.
“To start with, Thursday and Friday are going to pose a problem,” he said. “That’s more or less a Saudi’s weekend. They’ll expect you to entertain them on Thursday, then Friday is a day of relaxation and meditation. Like our Saturdays and Sundays.”
Jake caught Sage’s exasperated sigh as she set her wineglass on the table. “The office is closed on the weekend. That means we’ll have to wait until Monday before we even start.”
“You might as well resign yourself. The Saudis take everything slowly. They’ll need to get to know you before they even begin to think about negotiations.”
“I read that, but I didn’t think it would mean losing almost a week.”
The waiter arrived just then with their food. Jake let the conversation drift while they dug into their meals. The lasagna was damn good, as always. Bella’s was a personal favorite of his in the area. From the look of pure pleasure on Sage’s pretty face, he figured she was enjoying it, too.
“This is wonderful,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I can’t remember when I’ve had a chance to do more than grab a snack here and there.”
Jake was beginning to think maybe Annie was right, and Sage had climbed the corporate ladder with a lot of hard work. Not that being a Dumont hadn’t opened the door.
“Okay, what else?” she asked.
“You’ll need someone you work with to attend the meetings with you. He’ll be the one who asks most of the questions.”
“But I can handle that.”
“If you do, they’ll think you’re a lackey. They’ll figure they should be speaking to someone else, someone who has the actual authority.”
Sage shook her head. “I spent half the day reading up on all this, and I still don’t have a clue. I hate to say it, but I’m glad you’re here to help.”
Jake’s eyebrows went up. He hadn’t expected to hear those words, at least not so soon.
“There is one thing,” she said.
He swallowed the bite of lasagna he had taken. “Which is…?”
“I don’t like the idea of you carrying a gun. I assume that’s what you’ve got clipped to your belt. Do you think it’s really necessary? I mean, as big as you are, and with the training you’ve had, surely you can handle any problem that might come up without shooting someone.”
“Probably.” He took a drink of his wine. “The problem is, if the other guy is carrying and I’m unarmed, then you and I are both in deep shit.”
Sage sat up a little straighter. “I think we should wait and see if a gun is really something you’ll need.”
“No.”
Her lips tightened. “I don’t like handguns.”
“Noted.” He returned his attention to his food. Sage fumed in silence, but the smell of the delicious pasta was nearly irresistible and pretty soon she was eating with the same gusto as before. She nearly cleaned her plate, and ate at least two pieces of toasted garlic bread. Jake enjoyed food, lots of it. He liked that she wasn’t a priss about eating.
They carried on with their work, and he was impressed that she seemed to know more than he’d thought. When the meal came to an end, he paid the bill, which would go on his expense account, and they rose from the table.
“We’ll need to brief your people,” he said. “And you have to get those Saudi names. I’ll be in at nine in the morning. That’ll give you a little time.”
She nodded, but he could tell she wasn’t looking forward to seeing him.
“We got a lot done tonight,” he said as they drove back to the office. “More than I thought we would. Your research really helped. Now you need to go home and get some sleep.”
She shook her head. “I’ve still got a few things to do here at work.”
