Twice the Temptation Page 3

  Rhett knew he had Denise on the ropes when he saw her shoulders slump. And, like a shark drawn to the smell of blood, he went in for the kill.

  “You give me the next three and a half months of your life and I’ll offer you a two-year lease with a ten percent increase.”

  “Make it three years and six percent,” she countered.

  “Three years, eight percent, and that’s my final offer.”

  Denise felt as if she’d won a small victory. Picking up her flute, she extended it. “Deal,” she crooned, touching glasses. She took a sip of champagne. “Why me, and not some other woman?” she asked, seeing his smug expression.

  Rhett lowered his gaze, staring at the back of his left hand. “I don’t have time to tutor someone about social etiquette and protocol.”

  “How often will I have to stand in as your hostess?”

  “Every weekend.”

  “Every weekend?” she repeated. “You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not kidding you, Denise. We’ll either entertain here in D.C., or on Cape St. Claire.”

  The waiter’s sudden appearance to take their order was the only thing that stopped Denise from spewing the acid-laced response poised on the tip of her tongue. She narrowed her eyes, glaring at Rhett when she wanted to wipe the smirk off his face. Crossing her arms over her chest, she counted slowly in an attempt to control her temper.

  “It can’t be every weekend,” she said when they were alone again.

  Rhett angled his head. “Is your business open on the weekend?”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “No.”

  “It can’t be because of a man, because you said you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Boyfriend or not, I still have other obligations.”

  Rhett glanced up, annoyance and frustration welling up within him. If he wasn’t careful, his plan would backfire and that was something he wanted to avoid, given the risks he’d taken to exact revenge from Denise Eaton for turning his world upside down. His most ruthless business foes hadn’t been able to affect him the way she had.

  He’d designed his retribution as carefully as he studied a company on the brink of bankruptcy before he stepped in to take it over. Rhett had been hard-pressed not to shout at the top of his lungs when his investigator uncovered that Denise had opened a child care center in D.C., and on property his company had recently purchased from a developer who’d been forced to abandon his plan to revitalize four square blocks of commercial real estate after the housing market bottomed out. He’d paid the developer a little more than half the fair market value for the property, and the developer took the check and thanked him profusely.

  His game plan included seducing Denise back into his bed, then walking out on her as she had walked out on him. The only difference was there wouldn’t be a woman waiting for him as there had been for her years ago.

  “What type of other social obligations?”

  “I have two fundraisers—one in June and the other in August. I’m also involved in planning my cousin Belinda’s baby shower.”

  Belinda Eaton-Rice was due at the end of the month and the family had decided that a get-together over the three-day weekend would provide an opportune setting for a baby shower.

  “Does she know about the shower?”

  Denise smiled for the first time since she’d agreed to go along with Rhett’s unorthodox proposal. “No. My parents are supposedly hosting the get-together, and that will give Griffin time to drive Belinda to Philly while the rest of us decorate their house in Paoli. Once they arrive, Griffin will have to come up with an excuse why they have to return to Paoli.”

  Rhett lifted his eyebrows a fraction. “I must say I was quite surprised when I’d heard that Griffin Rice had married Belinda Eaton.”

  It was Denise’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “How did you hear about it?”

  “Keith Ennis.”

  “You know Keith?” Denise asked. The Philadelphia Phillies ballplayer was a sports superstar. As Keith’s agent, Griffin had helped the naturally gifted athlete from a poor Baltimore neighborhood to superstar status with a five-year multimillion-dollar contract, along with high-profile endorsement deals.

  “We’d shared a table at a Baltimore fundraiser, and I overheard him tell someone he was going to be a groomsman in his agent’s wedding. When I heard him mention Belinda Eaton I knew then it was your cousin.”

  “Griffin and Belinda shocked everyone when they announced they were getting married,” Denise said, smiling. “I’d always thought they couldn’t stand each other.” She sobered. “Griffin losing his brother and Belinda her sister brought them closer together after they became guardians for Donna and Grant’s twin daughters.”

  “I’ve always liked your family, Denise.”

  She nodded, scrunching up her nose. “I kind of like them, too. In fact, Chandra asked me about you.”

  “And what did you tell her?”

  “She’d asked if I’d run into you now that I’m living in D.C. and I told her I hadn’t.”

  Rhett leaned closer. “That is, until now,” he said softly.

  Denise stared at Rhett. There was something in his eyes that communicated he was mocking her. A sixth sense wouldn’t let her feel comfortable about their reunion. It wasn’t coincidental that he’d happened to purchase the building where she’d set up New Visions Childcare. His reputation as a ruthless corporate raider had earned him the reputation as one of thirty under thirty rising stars in Beltway Business Review. At twenty-eight, Garrett Fennell was touted as the Warren Buffett of his generation. She knew there was only one way to find out what he was up to, and that was for her to play the same game.

  “Do you have anything planned for the Memorial Day weekend?”

  Rhett drained the flute. “I have an invitation to a neighbor’s cookout on Sunday. Why?”

  “Belinda’s shower is scheduled for Saturday afternoon, and I’d like you to come with me. After that, I’m all yours for the rest of the weekend.” Denise knew she’d shocked Rhett with her suggestion when he stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. “You want me to hang out with your family?”

  “Of course,” she said flippantly. “I’m certain they’ll welcome you back with open arms.”

  A beat passed before Rhett spoke again. “What did you tell your parents about our breakup?”

  Denise closed her eyes, recalling the meeting with her parents. She’d managed not to break down when they’d asked when she and Rhett were getting married.

  She opened her eyes, her gaze fusing with the man. Despite her silent protest, she still loved and would always love him. He’d deceived her with another woman and she still couldn’t hate him.

  “I told them the truth.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I said I’d fallen out of love with you.”

  Reaching across the table, Rhett took her hand, increasing the pressure when she tried to escape him. “Do you hate me, Denise?” The second hand dial on his timepiece made a full revolution as they stared at each other.

  “No, Rhett, I don’t hate you.”

  Exhaling a breath at the same time he let go of Denise’s hand, Rhett stared at a spot over her shoulder. “If that’s the case, then I’ll go with you to Belinda’s baby shower.”

  Chapter 3

  Denise unlocked the door to her apartment, tossed her keys and handbag on the side table in the entryway and kicked off her shoes. In her stocking-covered feet, she headed for the bedroom.

  Rhett hadn’t driven her home, because she’d only drunk half a glass of champagne. However, he’d walked her to her car, waited until she’d maneuvered away from the curb and turned the corner.

  She was angry and annoyed. Her anger was directed at Rhett for using what amounted to blackmail to get her to do his bidding. His excuse that he needed her to double as his date and hostess was so transparent she had almost laughed in his face.

  She was annoyed at herself for inviting him to her cousin’s bab
y shower. His presence would literally open a Pandora’s box of questions to which she had few or no answers.

  The blinking red light on the telephone console on the bedside table indicated she had a message. Reaching for the cordless receiver, she punched in the numbers to retrieve her voice mail. The voice of Chandra Eaton-Tucker came through the earpiece:

  “Denise, this is Chandra. Please call me when you get this message. I don’t care how late it is when you get in. Call me.”

  Denise dialed the Philadelphia area code, then Chandra’s number. The phone rang twice before there was a break in the connection. “This is Chandra.”

  “Hey. I hope I’m not calling too late.”

  Denise walked over to the window and drew the drapes. She sat on an off-white upholstered chair, and propped her feet on a matching footstool. She’d decorated the bedroom as a calming retreat. A bay window had become a seating area with the chair, footstool and off-white silk drapery and sheers.

  A queen-size bed with white and beige bed linens, a padded bench covered with silk throw pillows in shades ranging from chocolate to cream was set up for an alcove that had become a second seating area. The stenciled floral design on the double dresser and lingerie chest matched the area rug.

  “Preston has been locked in his office for the past two days revising his latest play.”

  “Does he come out to eat?”

  “Rarely,” Chandra said. “I usually don’t intrude when he gets into what he calls the ‘zone.’ Now, back to why I called you. I got a set of keys from Griffin today, so we’ll be able to let ourselves in.”

  “What time do you want me to meet you?” Denise asked her cousin.

  “Meet me in Paoli any time before ten. I know that means your leaving D.C. early, but I want to get everything decorated before one o’clock.”

  “There’s something you should know,” Denise said after a pause.

  “What, Denise?”

  “I’m bringing someone with me.”

  “Good! The more the merrier.”

  “You don’t understand, Chandra.”

  “What’s not to understand, Denise? You have a date.”

  An audible sigh filled the room as she stared at the lighted wall sconce in the sitting alcove. “What if my date is Rhett Fennell? Are you still there, Chandra?” she asked when silence came through the earpiece.

  “I’m here. When did you start seeing him again?”

  “Tonight we had dinner together.”

  Denise knew she had to alert Chandra that she was coming with Rhett, because not to would prove embarrassing to all involved and knowing Chandra she knew she would tell the other family members that Rhett was back in her life. Although it was just for the summer, he would still be a part of her life until she fulfilled the terms of their business arrangement.

  “Do you want me to tell the others that he’s coming?”

  “There’s no need to send out an APB.”

  Chandra laughed. “I’ll try to be subtle.”

  It was Denise’s turn to laugh. “You wouldn’t know subtle if it stood on your chest, Mrs. Tucker.”

  “You know you’re wrong, Denise Eaton.”

  “Hang up, Chandra.”

  “Good night.”

  Denise ended the call, pressed her head to the back of the chair and closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to be victimized by a man who held the future of her business venture in his grasp. Rhett knew the importance of reliable and quality day care. He’d grown up with latchkey kids who were left home alone because their parents had to work and couldn’t afford to pay someone to look after their children. Social workers from children’s services made regular visits to his neighborhood to follow up on complaints stemming from abuse and neglect of children who were unsupervised at night and into the early morning hours. Rhett had been one of the luckier children because his aunt babysat him until he was school-age.

  She opened her eyes, struggling not to let the tears filling her eyes spill over. She’d accused Rhett of blackmail and sexual harassment, while he’d called it negotiating. The only saving grace was they wouldn’t sleep together. Making love to Rhett Fennell was akin to smoking crack. The addiction was instantaneous.

  Forcing herself to rise from the comfy chair, Denise went through the motions of undressing. Then she walked into the en suite bathroom to remove her makeup. Twenty minutes later she touched the switch, turning off the wall sconce and floor lamp. Her eyelids were drooping slightly when she pulled back the comforter and slipped between cool, crisp sheets. Reaching over, she turned off the lamp on the bedside table, and this time when she closed her eyes she didn’t open them again until a sliver of light poured in through the octagonal window over the sitting area.

  Rhett massaged his forehead with his fingertips as he compared the bottom line for three years of profit and loss statements for Chambers Properties, Ltd. A steady decline in profits was an obvious indicator that the company was ripe for the picking.

  After reuniting with Denise Eaton, he’d thrown himself into his work with the voracity of a starving man at a banquet. Work and more work had not diminished his anxiety at being unable to get her out of his head.

  During the walk back to the hotel, after having made certain she was safely in her car, Rhett had replayed the two hours they’d spent together. Even when he’d executed what some had called his “sucker punch” takeover, he hadn’t felt as ashamed as he had now. His quest for revenge had gone beyond what he deemed ethical. He’d used his money and the power that went along with it to intimidate and bully a woman who’d sacrificed her time and money to provide essential services to a low-income and working-class community.

  Although he’d threatened to double the rent for the child care facility, Rhett knew he never would’ve gone through with it. After all, he wasn’t that far removed from his humble roots to ignore the importance of adequate child care. He was luckier than most of the children from his neighborhood because his maternal aunt had looked after him while his mother worked long hours waiting tables.

  When he was six years old, Geraldine Fennell had enrolled him in Marshall Foote Academy, a prestigious boarding school in northern Virginia, where he’d returned home during the summer months and holidays. He’d studied harder than any other boy at the prep school, and after a year his mother had been able to qualify for financial aid. For every grade of ninety and above, the tuition for that term had been waived.

  Rhett had learned early in life that he was smart. But he hadn’t realized how smart he actually was until it had come time for exams. One of his instructors had accused him of cheating because he’d written verbatim the answer he’d read in his textbook. It was only after Geraldine had been summoned to the school for a conference with the teacher and headmaster that they had become aware of his photographic memory. He was able to recall whole paragraphs from textbooks without thinking about it.

  It had been the first and only time he’d seen his mother lose her temper. And it had been the only time he’d forgotten some of the words she’d flung at the red-faced men. Once they’d apologized profusely, Geraldine had returned to D.C., Rhett had been escorted back to his dormitory and the headmaster had chastised the instructor for embarrassing him and jeopardizing the academy’s reputation with unsubstantiated allegations when he’d accused their best student of cheating.

  Attending the academy had afforded him the opportunity for a quality education. He’d also managed to escape the social problems that plagued his poor urban neighborhood.

  Yes, he’d made it out and he’d made a difference. But the differences were quiet, subtle. And with every company he took over, Rhett always looked after the employees. Those who wanted out he offered a generous severance package. Those who didn’t, he created positions for them—even if he had to reduce their salaries. The rationale was at least they had a paycheck.

  The buzz of the intercom interrupted his reverie. “Yes, Tracy.”

  “Yo
ur uncle is here.”

  Rhett smiled. “Tell him I’ll be right out.” He took a quick glance at the clock on his desk. “I’ll probably be gone for the rest of the day. Take messages and if there’s anything you can’t handle, then call me on my cell.”

  “No problem, Rhett,” said his executive assistant.

  He’d hired Tracy Powell when his office had been nothing more than a twelve-by-twelve second bedroom in his apartment after he’d earned an MBA from Wharton business school. He’d purchased two used desks, installed a telephone line separate from his personal one and he and the part-time bookkeeper/secretary/receptionist grew a company from two to fourteen employees.

  After two years, Rhett rented space in an office building in downtown D.C., and now he owned a four-story town house blocks from Dupont Circle. The first three floors were occupied by his various holding companies. And when renovations on the fourth floor were completed Rhett would move into what would become his private apartment. His decision to live in the same building where he worked was because he’d found himself spending more time there than he had at his condominium. He’d sold the condo and had temporarily moved into the hotel while the contractor renovated the space.

  What he constantly reminded himself was that other than his mother, he had no family. His grandparents were dead and so was the aunt who’d looked after him. There was only he and his mother, who’d found happiness with a sixty-year-old widower who adored her.

  Rhett knew his reluctance to settle down with a woman stemmed from his relationship with Denise Eaton. The first time he’d slept with her he knew he wanted her to be the only woman in his life. What he hadn’t known at the time was that she wouldn’t be. There had been women after Denise—more than he’d willingly admit—to fill up the empty hours or to slake his sexual frustration.

  Then everything had changed when a woman had accused him of leading her on, that she’d expected a commitment that would eventually lead to marriage. He’d made a decision not to date or sleep with women. It was during this time that he’d been forced to reexamine his wanton behavior and acknowledge his selfishness.