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While intimidation tactics were not yet off the table, he had a feeling using the instant attraction between them would be more easily effective.
Walking into the restaurant a few minutes later, he was once again struck by the clarity of her gray eyes as they met his across the roomful of diners in the upscale steak house. Even in the subdued lighting of the restaurant, the gray orbs glowed. Miranda was sitting with Andreas Kostas and another woman with eyes the exact color and vibrancy of Miranda’s, declaring her the sister.
Basilio allowed the maître d’ to lead him across the restaurant to the linen-clad table for four. Appetizers and bread were already on the table, indicating the Kostases had been there for a while.
Miranda stood up. “You made it.”
Basilio nodded, finding her enthusiasm almost charming. There was such an innocence about this woman, he found it hard to believe she had plans to blow his family’s peace right out of the water. She did not look or behave like someone who would go on a talk show to spite them, particularly after committing such a heinous act as hitting a small child with her car.
But he had it on good authority that Miranda Smith, for all her airs of innocence, was exactly that kind of woman.
He could not afford to forget that fact.
“This is my sister, Kayla Kostas, and her husband, Andreas.” Miranda indicated the other two people with one hand, nearly knocking over a filled water goblet.
Her brother-in-law saved the table from getting doused with a discernible lack of impatience.
Basilio inclined his head to the married couple. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Randi said she met you on the street?” Kayla asked as Andreas sat down, clearly wanting more information.
Miranda had dropped back into her chair across the dining table from him. She smiled shyly at him, her cheeks tinged with color. Was she embarrassed she’d allowed him to pick her up?
He winked at her and watched the color darken along her lovely cheekbones, then turned his head to meet Kayla’s eyes. “We bumped into each other.”
“More like I mowed him down in my rush to be on time.”
The twinge he felt that she was taking responsibility for the collision he had orchestrated was odd, and Basilio ignored it. “You were in a rush to get here, I believe.”
“I was late.”
“I guessed.”
She ducked her head. “Yes, well...”
“Do you make a habit of picking up women you bump into on the street?” Andreas asked, his tone cynical.
“Having dinner with a beautiful woman is never a hardship.” Basilio met the assessing green gaze steadily.
He’d spent years rebuilding his father’s company and the Perez name in business circles. Basilio had learned long ago not to allow anyone else’s opinion of him, or his actions, to disconcert him.
Andreas Kostas was not the only dangerous business shark in the room.
“You didn’t answer my question.” The other man was not easily fobbed off.
Basilio didn’t mind. “I did not.”
He was going to leave it that way until he noted the uncertainty clouding Miranda’s expression. His plans required her trust.
So he spoke to her, not the nosy Greek sitting to Basilio’s left. “I have never picked up a woman I met on the street. I did not pick you up like a lost puppy. I asked you for drinks. You suggested dinner and I was pleased to accept.”
“If that’s not the definition of a pickup, I don’t know what is,” Kayla inserted.
But Miranda looked happier and that was all that Basilio was worried about. She smiled at him. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Be assured you are not one of many.” She was, in fact, the only woman who could give his family what they so desperately needed: peace.
Miranda let out a small gasp, but the sound that came from her brother-in-law was far more cynical.
Basilio gave him a dry look. “How do you like venture capitalism? Different from digital security?”
“You meant to run into Randi!” Kayla exclaimed. “You wanted to meet Andreas. You know who he is.”
Miranda’s head jerked, and her beautiful gray eyes filled with hurt.
This was getting ridiculous. Basilio frowned at the sister. “While I applaud your concern for Miranda, please stop putting such negative thoughts into her head. I assure you, if I wanted to meet your husband to discuss a business venture, he would take my call.”
Andreas narrowed his gaze. “Don’t glower at my wife. She’s just looking out for Randi.”
“As I said, laudable, but unnecessary.”
“What does he mean, Andreas? Do you know something about Basilio?” Kayla asked.
Andreas’s jaw hardened, like he’d just realized who Basilio was. “Basilio Perez is the president of the worldwide real estate and hotel consortium known as Perez Holdings. He has fingers in more pies than Sebastian Hawk.”
“You are?” Miranda asked, looking pale.
“I am. That does not change your desire to dine with me, does it?” he teased, knowing it wouldn’t. He’d never met a woman not drawn to his power and position.
She looked like she wasn’t sure of her answer, though. “I’m not in your league.”
“I’m not looking for a baseball team to dine with, just one quirky, charming woman and her very suspicious relatives.” Not that they had nothing to worry about in her regard, but their concerns were in all the wrong directions.
While Basilio dated his fair share of women, he was by no means a womanizer. And he was not looking to use her for her family business connections.
“Oh, that’s kind of sweet,” Kayla said.
Miranda nodded. “It is.”
Andreas was still watching Basilio with suspicion. However, after they ordered their food and the evening progressed, the other man thawed some. Basilio found himself actually enjoying conversation with the somewhat socially awkward Kayla, her very business-savvy husband and the unexpectedly sweet Miranda.
“So, are you here looking at an acquisition?” Andreas asked at one point.
Basilio put down his glass of very good scotch after taking a sip. “That’s not something I can discuss.”
“Why not?” Miranda asked, pausing with the bite of steak she had been about to eat dangling on her fork.
“If word got out I was looking at a property, the sale price would increase immediately.”
“Because you have deep pockets?” Miranda asked, sounding like she was trying to understand.
“Exactly.” He was, in fact, looking at a property, a historic hotel that had closed down and would need extensive remodeling and updates before it could be opened again.
But the property was beautiful and the bones of the hotel were strong. He hadn’t made a decision about the purchase yet, though.
“So, property acquisition is your thing?” Kayla asked.
“Sometimes.” He had too much to do running Perez Holdings for him to be a full-time acquisitions manager. “I enjoy it.”
“Then maybe you can help Randi find the property for our expansion house.”
“Expansion house?” he asked, like he didn’t have all the details in his report on the family back in his hotel suite.
“I run Kayla’s for Kids.” Miranda smiled, her tone saying how much satisfaction her job gave her. “It’s a shelter for children and youth.”
“Not their parents?”
Miranda’s smile did not dim. “If their parents are around, we have services to help them, but our focus is the kids. The number of homeless teenagers and children in need of a safe place after school is greater than the facilities available to serve them.”
“And you want to help these children?” Was she looking for absolution in service after what she’d done five years before?
“I do.” Miranda’s eyes darkened to molten silver. “Children deserve the best we can give them, but just as important, they are the beginning of change. If we give them hope for now, a chance to learn and grow, there’s no way of knowing how much each child will touch and influence the world in their lifetime.”
“So it starts with giving them a place to play games after school?”
“And experience art, a place to read a book in peace, a place to be safe.” Her passion was damn near addictive.
Could he believe she was that committed to the welfare of children and still be the woman willing to tear his own nephew’s life apart with media interest?
“You are adding on another shelter, then?” he asked.
“Yes, where the rate of homeless teens is one of the highest.” She named a western suburb of Portland. “But I don’t expect you to help me find the building. I’m sure you’re way too busy.”
“On the contrary, I would be happy to help you.” Doing so would give him the excuse he required to spend time with her.
“Really?” she asked, her lovely face covered in delight.
“Yes.”
“That’s great. I’m supposed to look at properties tomorrow.”
“Send me a list of the properties and your requirements for the shelter. I’ll vet them and see what else I can find for you.”
“Seriously? You’d do that? I’ve got a Realtor working with me. She’s going to donate her commission to the shelter, but doesn’t seem to understand the concept of a budget and long-term running costs.”
“Send me her name, as well, and I will make sure she understands your requirements, or I will find a Realtor who will.”
“Oh, I don’t want you intimidating her. Like I said, she’s generously donating her commission to the shelter.”
“That donated commission could end up costing you quite a bit more in the long run.”
“I tried to tell both Kayla and Randi this.” Andreas gave both women a speaking look. “But they’re convinced that anyone willing to donate their income is as committed to the best interests of the shelter as they are.”
“Give me her name and I will make certain.”
Miranda bit her lip. “I really don’t want you scaring her.”
“You think I would?”
“Um, just sitting at dinner with you is a little intimidating. Being under your scrutiny in a business setting?” Miranda gave an exaggerated shiver. “That would be downright frightening.”
“And then some,” Kayla said with a firm nod.
Andreas looked just a little horrified at his wife’s honesty, but Basilio merely laughed, not offended in the least. He filed away the knowledge that Miranda was quite a bit more discerning than he’d given her credit for.
She might even recognize on some subconscious level that he was a danger to her. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t understand just how ruthless he really was.
No man got to where he was in the business world without being an apex predator.
CHAPTER TWO (#u789dfcc6-03d2-56f6-83f3-94cdf48f0faa)
RANDI CAUGHT HER breath as Baz put his arm around her waist to walk to the piano bar.
He was so virile and strong. Rich and gorgeous.
An overwhelming example of the male species, and that was no exaggeration.
She was having a hard time understanding what he was doing with her. She wasn’t hideous. Or embarrassingly awkward company, but that didn’t mean she was the usual sort of date for a man like Basilio Perez.
Randi knew who and what she was. A usually shy, moderately pretty woman, who found the company of children easier to navigate than most single men.
She didn’t date a lot, especially after the accident five years ago. Unable to deal with the media frenzy and social media ostracization, the man she’d thought she was going to marry had broken things off. Then Randi had been tricked into dating a reporter who wanted the inside scoop on the woman accused of destroying a family with her carelessness.
Each defection had devastated and demoralized her, the loss of friendships and even her university scholarship only adding to her sense of betrayal. She’d learned not to trust quickly or easily, not with new friends and particularly not with possible boyfriends.
She never allowed strange men to talk her into dinner and drinks.
But Baz wasn’t exactly some random stranger. He was the president of a multibillion-dollar conglomerate. No way did he have a hidden agenda. Randi had nothing the man could want.
However, that didn’t make this date any less bewildering, not to mention disturbing. The more time she spent with him, the more her attraction to him grew. She’d never felt anything as powerful. She wanted him. Seriously, deeply.
His arm around her waist was not helping her sense of self-control, either.
That simple point of contact ratcheting up the unexpected, unfamiliar and yet incredible sensations of desire coursing through her.
“So, um, do you come to Portland often?” She nearly winced at her gauche question. It sounded like she was fishing for the future and she was too smart to think they had one of those.
“This is my first time.”
