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“You should have said no.”
“That’s what Shannon told me.”
“Shannon—your sister?”
“Right.” Kane cursed to himself, wishing he understood the complex emotions on Beth’s face. Usually women were easier to classify, but he didn’t know what to make of Beth Cox…or his reaction to her. For some reason he kept looking at her small breasts and slim body far more than the situation warranted. If nothing else, she was too young and seemed far too innocent. He had a policy about innocence—no playing around with someone who could get hurt.
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, having you turn the date down…it’s bad for the radio station. I’d give Patrick whatever he needs, but he’s determined to make it happen without my money. He got into some trouble as a teenager—after our father died—and he’s never really forgiven himself for it. I think this is his way of proving to himself that he’s changed.”
Beth sighed. “I’m sorry about your brother, but I don’t see how me going could make any difference. Just tell him to pick someone else for the prize.”
With an effort, Kane kept from exploding. “It doesn’t work that way. Advertisers are particularly sensitive to public relations issues, and listeners can be fickle, too. They’re already asking questions and wondering if the contest was rigged.”
He could tell Beth was troubled by the whole thing; she obviously was a caring person. The newspaper article had said she was active in various local charities—the Crockett Family Crisis Center in particular—so making a donation might convince her it was to everyone’s advantage to play along.
“All right,” he said slowly. “How about a donation to that crisis center you’re trying to get going?”
“A what?”
“A donation in exchange for you going on the date.” He pulled out his checkbook and began scribbling. Now that he thought about it, this was the best solution for everyone. No matter what people said, money did solve problems, and he had plenty.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Not to me,” he said in a grim tone. Between the damaging consequences to Pat’s radio station and the embarrassment of being publicly refused, he’d be delighted to get the whole thing behind him. “So we’ll go on our date, and you can give the check to the crisis center. Just tell them to keep it private,” he added. “I’ve postdated it so it’ll look like I made the donation after our date.”
Annoyed, Beth looked from Kane O’Rourke’s face to the slip of paper he was holding out. “You’re trying to buy me off.”
“I’m trying to do my best to take care of everyone. Besides, I don’t think spending the weekend with me is such a terrible fate.” When she didn’t move, he put the check on the kitchen table. “We’re supposed to go to Victoria next week. I’ll have someone call with the arrangements.”
He walked out and she clenched her fingers.
“I’m trying to do my best to take care of everyone,” she mimicked, thoroughly annoyed. She didn’t need anyone taking care of herself; she did just fine on her own.
Beth snatched the check to tear it up—and practically fainted. There were a whole lot of zeroes at the end of the number. It would answer all the money problems the crisis center was having, and then some. Still, men like Kane O’Rourke were too accustomed to getting what they wanted, buying and selling people without a second thought.
The paper crumpled in her fingers and she dashed onto the porch as Kane O’Rourke reached the end of the walk.
“Mr. O’Rourke, you’re forgetting I didn’t say yes.”
He walked back to the porch. “You want more money?”
“You…oh. You just snap your fingers and expect everyone to go along. Well, I am not one of your employees, and I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.”
Kane barely kept from grinning. Beth was like a rumpled kitten with its hackles raised, practically spitting in his face. He might not be used to hearing no, but their date would be anything but boring.
“You’ll go,” he said confidently. “You’re intelligent and you care about the community. In the end you’ll decide the money will do too much good and that it’s worth a weekend to get it.”
She let out a wordless shriek. “You’re an impossible, arrogant, overbearing tyrant.”
“Yeah, but I’m a lovable tyrant,” he agreed mildly. His family had accused him of tyranny too many times for it to bother him now.
“I could just keep the check and not go,” she threatened.
This time he laughed. He couldn’t help it. Beth was the first spice he’d encountered in longer than he cared to remember; he’d forgotten how exciting it was to have someone—other than his family—defy him. In simpler circumstances they might have become friends, but he lived in Seattle, she lived in Crockett, and his life was too crazy for normal people.
“You should take me seriously,” she warned.
“I always take women seriously. Besides, I have good instincts about people, and my instincts say you’re too honest not to go on our date.”
She looked ready to argue, so Kane leaned close and gazed into her brandy-wine eyes. He was having trouble remembering he shouldn’t kiss her. Honestly, he couldn’t understand why she interested him so much. He’d known plenty of women more beautiful and better endowed than Beth, but none of them had gotten to him so quickly—at least not since he was an overeager teenager with a thirst for curvy cheerleaders in tight sweaters.
He tugged on the end of her braid. “Someone will be in touch, Beth. With the arrangements.”
Her chin lifted a fraction of an inch and a devilish expression crept into her eyes. “Call yourself. I have no intention of being ‘staffed-out.’ If I hear from anyone but you, the deal’s off.”
She meant it, too, and admiration stole through Kane. Beth was holding a check for a pretty sum in her hands—enough money to solve a truckload of problems—and she still had the nerve to lay down terms.
Damned, if he didn’t like this woman.
Chapter Two (#ulink_9570c273-6f8e-5b15-af78-3c4e5f06afe3)
Billionaire Charms “No” Into Maybe?
“I didn’t know you were that charming,” Shannon announced as she walked into Kane’s office late Monday morning and threw a newspaper on his desk.
Kane sighed. “I’ve seen it.”
Another bold title, this time with art.
Beneath it was a picture of him looking intently into Beth Cox’s face, his hand hovering in the vicinity of her chest. To say the least, it was highly suggestive, because you couldn’t tell from the photo that he was reaching for the braid that tumbled over her shoulder. His only consolation was knowing the article had been printed in the Lifestyles section of the newspaper, rather than the front page.
The buzzer on his desk rang and Kane pushed the intercom button. “Yes?”
“Mr. O’Rourke, there’s a Miss Cox here to see you.” His assistant’s voice held a wealth of amusement and Kane groaned to himself.
Great. Not only were his employees laughing their heads off, but Beth had to be upset about the invasion of her privacy. Not that he blamed her. He didn’t enjoy the notoriety that accompanied his success, either. All too often there were photographers in places meant to be private, and prying questions from people who didn’t have any business knowing the things they were asking.
“Tell Miss Cox to come in.”
His sister grinned broadly. “I can’t wait to see this. A woman with the guts to tell Kane O’Rourke ‘no’ has to be something else.”
“Shannon, leave or you’re fired.”
“You won’t fire me, you practice nepotism, remember?”
She didn’t leave and Beth walked in, her face stormy. “It wasn’t good enough to hand me a big check, you had to set everything up with a photographer and newspeople to save your pride.”
“That isn’t what happened.”
“Sure it isn’t.” She flung a handful of confetti at him. “Keep your money. We don’t need it that badly.”
Kane rounded his desk, instinctively realizing he had to deal with her on a more personal level. The truth was, he should have called the minute he saw the newspaper article, but he hadn’t known what to say. Or how she’d react.
“I swear, I didn’t know there was a photographer out there. I was leaving the house—how would I know you’d follow me?”
Beth hesitated. He looked sincere. Darn. All her life she’d struggled with a tendency to overreact. She’d thought it was under control, then she’d seen the newspaper and come unglued. Maybe she should have thought things out before charging into Seattle and making accusations.
“Much as it pains me to say this, I believe him,” announced the woman sitting on the couch.
“Who are you?” Beth asked, though she hardly needed to ask—the resemblance to Kane was unmistakable.
“Shannon O’Rourke,” the woman said. She rose gracefully and stuck out her hand. She nodded her head toward Kane and gave Beth a comradely grin. “That big goon is my brother, and I’m his public relations director. Please don’t be too hard on him, he’s had a rough week. It isn’t easy being publicly turned down for a date.”
A groan came from the “big goon,” but he didn’t say anything, apparently accustomed to his sister’s lack of respect. Beth stared at Shannon and wondered if everyone in the O’Rourke family was gorgeous, sophisticated, and larger than life. She was a small town girl; she didn’t know anything about designer suits and silk blouses.
“I didn’t intend it to be public,” Beth said finally. “But the newspaper sent someone out and they kept asking questions. I finally said I didn’t plan to go and the reporter made a big deal of it.”
“Which is exactly what they did with that picture…taking it without us knowing,” Kane interjected. “Let’s have lunch and talk it over.”
“Great idea,” Shannon said enthusiastically. “I’m starved.”
“You’re not invited. Besides, didn’t I just fire you?” he asked.
Beth’s jaw dropped, but Shannon just laughed. “Don’t worry, I get fired at least once a week,” she said. “It was nice meeting you. We’ll have to get together some time and share horror stories about my brother. He can be a pill, can’t he?”
“Brat. You aren’t helping,” Kane growled.
Shannon waved an unconcerned hand and strolled from the room, leaving a faint trail of expensive perfume. It was obvious from Kane’s expression that he adored his sister, no matter how much she exasperated him, and Beth swallowed a pang of envy.
What would it be like to belong like that?
The thought wasn’t new and she impatiently shoved it away. She’d learned a long time ago that wishing for the moon was pointless.
“Would you like to eat at the Space Needle, or someplace else?” Kane asked. “McCormick and Schmick’s has great seafood.”
The question brought her back to earth in a hurry. “There isn’t any need for lunch. I’m sorry for overreacting.”
“You have to eat.”
“I’m not dressed to go out. I’ll get something later.”
“You look fine, but we can eat here in the office if you prefer. It’ll give us a chance to discuss plans for our trip to Victoria, and you did insist I talk to you directly.” Kane lifted the phone. “Please have that deli place deliver a couple sandwiches to the office…yes, the usual for me.” He covered the receiver and looked at Beth. “Any preferences?”
She tried not to roll her eyes. The man didn’t listen to anything that didn’t go the way he wanted. It was probably a good way to make money, but she wasn’t so sure about friends.
“Swiss cheese and turkey,” she said, plunking herself down on the couch.
Apparently they were going to eat lunch together whether she wanted to or not, so she might as well eat what she wanted. He hung up the phone after uttering a terse order to rush the delivery.
“You always get what you want, don’t you?” Beth asked thoughtfully.
“Not always,” Kane protested, then a sheepish smile crossed his face. “Well, most of the time.”
She couldn’t help being charmed. In a single instant he’d disarmed her, which was quite an accomplishment considering how angry she’d been over the newspaper. Her life was pretty ordinary; she wasn’t used to having her picture in print, or having people whisper and gossip about her.
What had really set her off that morning was the crowd of women visiting the Mom and Kid’s Stuff clothing store she co-owned. Her partner had laughed and said it was good for business, but the loaded questions and raised eyebrows made Beth uncomfortable. And she had to admit, she was suffering from a shred of wounded pride—everyone was surprised Kane had made such an effort to change her mind. She certainly hadn’t felt like explaining it had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with saving his brother from embarrassment.
“So, am I forgiven?” Kane asked.
Beth shrugged. She might be charmed, but she wasn’t letting him off that easy. “I’m thinking about it.”
“You’re a tough little cookie, aren’t you?”
Though he plainly didn’t mean anything by the comment, she stiffened. A kid raised in indifferent foster homes either got tough, or didn’t survive. Over the years she’d learned to stick up her chin and never count on anyone. The only time she’d let down her guard was with Curt, and when he died she’d been wounded more than she’d ever imagined possible. Curt had pulled her out of her protective shell, making her that much more vulnerable when the world fell apart.
She couldn’t let it happen again.
“Yeah, I’m tough,” she muttered. “And don’t you forget it.”
Confusion replaced the teasing look in Kane’s face. “What did I say?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Exasperated, Beth glared at him. “What’s wrong with you? In polite society when people say ‘nothing’ you’re supposed to pretend it’s really nothing and start talking about something else.”
“Is that what I’m supposed to do?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Kane chuckled, grateful Beth’s bleak expression had been replaced with irritation. He wondered if she realized how much her face reflected her emotions. A man might not always understand what was going on inside her head, but he’d have an interesting time guessing.
“My family calls me a human steamroller,” he said. “But they don’t understand.”
“Ever think they might be right?”
“I just like to get things done—efficiently, without wasting time. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
She rolled her golden-brown eyes in disgust. “Not unless you’re the one getting flattened with all that efficiency.”
“I don’t flat—”
A knock on the door interrupted his defense, probably saving him from annoying her all over again. Really, he didn’t understand why people like Beth and his family were so stubborn about things. He had more money than he’d ever be able to spend, why shouldn’t he take care of their problems?
Their sandwich order was brought in and Kane suggested they eat at his desk. He tried to get Beth to sit in his chair because it was more comfortable, but she gave him another one of her are-you-crazy looks and sat where she wanted.
“I can’t believe you eat regular deli food,” she commented as he handed her the container with her turkey and Swiss. “Isn’t this a little mundane for a billionaire?”
