Ten Ways To Win Her Man. Beverly Bird
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I saved them, too, at a lake atop Junipero Sierra Peak five years ago.”
“You’re a regular Birdman of California, aren’t you?”
“I’m an environmental lobbyist.”
“And environmental issues are Stanley J. Roberson’s platform. What a coincidence.”
“Not really.”
That surprised her. He was honest. She liked it. “Maybe you should tell him to stick to the state budget.”
“I can’t save that for him and I never promised I would.” Maxwell finally left her desk and strode across the room, back to the model.
Danielle looked down into her glass. Somehow it had gotten into her hand again and now it was empty. She had probably consumed more scotch in the last half hour than she had in the previous three years combined.
And Max Padgett was looking better by the mouthful.
“This is absurd,” she muttered, not sure if she was speaking of the birds or the way his grin softened his mouth, the way he had her reacting.
“You won’t end up thinking so.”
She looked up again quickly. “Is that a threat?”
“More or less.”
“With what? I’m legal! That sight is clean, totally permitted, ready to go!”
“But it won’t go because deep in your heart you know I’m right about this.” He paused and looked at her steadily. “Take a step back, Dani. Think it over. If you proceed, you’ll have a substantial fight on your hands. This was a courtesy call. After this, things get ugly.”
“You can’t seriously think I’ll accommodate you on this. It makes absolutely no fiscal sense, and I have board members to report to!”
“It was worth a try.”
“So was looking for life on Mars but no one seriously thought they’d find it there.”
“Call me a dreamer.”
And wouldn’t that go with those blue eyes. Danielle shook her head as something soft tried to fill it. “My answer is no.”
“So it’s on to round two then. But Dani.” He trailed off and moved to the door, opened it and looked back at her. “Don’t take anything that happens from here on in personally. Just for the record, it turns out that I like you.”
“That’s m’lady to you.” Her intelligent, calculating, CEO knees nearly buckled.
He chuckled, a sound that was rich and warm and golden, then he stepped through the door again and was gone.
Danielle’s stomach jittered. It felt as if it had suddenly filled with a hundred fluttering…well, plovers. She’d read somewhere—probably in all that literature he’d sent her—that they darted after their food when they were hungry. Her nerves were darting. She sank back down into her chair again, dazed.
What had just happened here? Pure, sizzling, instant chemical attraction, she answered herself. It scared her to death. She didn’t know quite what to do with it.
But she liked it.
Chapter Two
“He wants you to call off the resort because of those birds?”
Danielle’s secretary stood openmouthed in the center of her office early the next morning. Angelique was a stunning, statuesque and shrewd blonde who proved that looks didn’t necessarily preclude brains or vice versa. When Richard had first hired her, Danielle had felt the requisite kick of wifely alarm. Then she had gotten to know her.
Three years ago, when Richard had passed on, Danielle had moved her own lackluster secretary into the PR department and had kept Angelique on to work for her. Over time, they’d become friends, eschewing all Richard’s whispered warnings in Danielle’s head that it wasn’t wise to become overly intimate with the staff. The business was all Danielle had. There was no one outside it for her to confide in, worry with, to clap for her victories. Without Angelique, Danielle knew she would be isolated in her ivory tower.
Maxwell Padgett’s words shot back to her. And you’re alone now. She shook them off.
“Actually, I think it’s all political.” Danielle sipped papaya juice. Twelve hours after the scotch, she still had a headache. Twelve hours after Maxwell Padgett had made his departure, her insides still hummed.
Angelique thought about that and nodded. “Senator Roberson promised something during his campaign about preserving that area of coastline.”
“Yes.” And the public knew that with Maxwell Padgett and his coalition in his corner, Roberson could deliver on such promises. It had gotten Roberson elected by a narrow margin. What he’d had over his opponent was his close relationship with the powerful lobbyist who could be trusted to push through the legislation Roberson wrote.
Still, Danielle had stood tough against both of them for months. But now she had actually met Maxwell Padgett and that put a different spin on things. Her blood shivered again.
“How do you do it?” she asked suddenly. “How do you draw men like bees to honey?” It was one of Angelique’s gifts. Longevity in relationships was not.
Angelique poured herself a mug of coffee and frowned at her. “Why do you want to know?”
Just for the record, it turns out that I like you. Remembering Max’s words, she recalled the skitter of excitement that had gone through her. She wanted to feel more of that, Danielle thought, whatever had been going through her blood since twenty past six last night. “I’ve decided I want one.”
Angelique went still. “But you were married to Richard.” Angelique rarely made such inane observations which, Danielle supposed, only showed how much she’d surprised her. And what did that say for the state of her life?
“Of course I was,” Danielle said. “Three years ago. You’re the one who keeps telling me that you think I need to get out more.”
“I know. I did. I do.” Angelique drank from her mug. “I guess I meant…with friends. I seem to have this image of you and Richard still welded together, in the back of my brain.”
“He’s gone now,” Danielle said quietly. And, she thought, she had never felt like this with Richard. Not once, not for a second or a minute or an hour. She’d met him during her last year in graduate school when he’d lectured to one of her classes. He’d invited her for a cup of coffee afterward, and they’d eased into a comfortable, steady courtship that had turned into a comfortable, steady marriage. It had lasted for seven quiet years until he had died. He’d taught her, praised her, admired her…and yes, in many ways he’d welded her to his side where nothing or no one could do her harm or touch her too closely.
This was different.
This was…lust, Danielle thought. It was chemistry, with a zing here and a wallop there. It was fireworks on the Fourth of July going off in her brain. It was possibility—open, endless possibility—a feeling of being utterly alive. Maxwell’s hands! And that grin. His eyes! Her heart rolled over.
She’d been in awe of Richard from the first moment she’d met him, but he had never once made her forget herself and drink two scotch and waters. Their marriage had been a placid pond compared to a churning ocean. Max Padgett was tidal waves, and she had only just realized that she didn’t know how to swim.
“Okay, I can deal with this,” Angelique mused. “You are, after all, still a young woman.”
Danielle glanced at her. “Well, thank you for that.” She was only thirty-six.
“Are we talking about any specific man here?”
“Maxwell Padgett.”
Angelique’s