Hot on Her Heels. Susan Mallery

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Hot on Her Heels - Susan Mallery


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What had gone wrong? “He’s smart. Maybe smarter than we gave him credit for. We have to find his vulnerable spot. No target is off-limits.”

      “First we have to find one,” Brock grumbled.

      “We will. In the meantime, we have to buy back shares. He owns too much of the company.”

      “There’s no money.”

      “We’ll find it. Borrow it, whatever. I want to start buying back shares from anyone who will sell.”

      “If word gets out,” Brock began, then shook his head. “No one can know, Jed. People will think the company’s in trouble and that’ll start a stampede of shareholders trying to sell. Any panic will drive down the price of stock.”

      “Then we’ll keep it to ourselves.”

      “We’ll need a bunch of cash. I don’t know where we’re going to get it. Unless you’re willing to start selling some of your assets.”

      Something Jed had always refused in the past. There were dozens of choices but only a few worth tens of millions. His racehorse farm, the shipping company and Glory’s Gate, the family home.

      It was all about winning. Defeating the upstart bastard who was trying to take him down.

      “This is war,” Jed said at last. “Sacrifices have to be made. Start making discreet inquires about potential buyers. But remember, this isn’t a fire sale. I want top dollar.”

      Brock stared at him for a long time. “It may not be enough.”

      “Then we’ll figure out something else. I don’t care what it takes to beat Garth. I want him crushed and swept up with the trash.”

      DANA DID HER BEST to sit quietly in the lobby of Garth’s condo. Usually she enjoyed a good stakeout. She found it relaxing. It gave her time to think. But today her brain was not her friend, not when it kept racing from subject to subject, the most annoying of which was the anticipation she felt at the thought of seeing Garth again.

      She was actually worried about what she was wearing. She’d thought about changing her clothes. Worse, she’d gone home and put on mascara, which happened to be the only makeup she owned. Mascara. Like she was a sniveling teenaged girl nervous about a date.

      This wasn’t a date—it was surveillance, dammit.

      She shifted on the comfortable bench, thought about leaving, then tensed when the elevator doors slid open and Garth stepped into the foyer of his condo building to pick up his mail.

      He looked good. The stubble on his jaw, the slightly loosened tie all suited him. There was a weariness in his eyes, as if it had been a long day. She felt a definite quiver low in her belly and did her best to ignore it. She wasn’t the type of woman to quiver for any man and if she pretended it wasn’t happening, eventually it would go away. At least that was the plan.

      “Hope you like Italian,” he said, holding up two shopping bags.

      He’d stopped for dinner. One part of her brain said it was no big deal. He wasn’t the kind of man to cook for himself and he’d known she would be here. The other part of her brain wanted to know if he’d bought dinner with her in mind. If he’d thought about what she might like. As if this were…

      Nothing. It was nothing. He was nothing, they were nothing. That’s the way it was going to be.

      She stood and walked toward him without saying anything. Garth collected his mail, then walked back to the elevator. She took the food from him and followed. George wished them a good night.

      The elevator ride was silent. When they reached his floor, he pulled out his keys and they stepped into his condo. She collected plates while he chose a bottle of wine. She set the table, he flipped on a CD. Their actions were familiar, which should have been comfortable but instead made her nervous. It was only the second night. There was no way she could be comfortable around Garth.

      Finally they sat across from each other. He poured the wine, then toasted her silently before taking a sip.

      He watched her, as if assessing her. She felt the weight of the mascara on her lashes and wondered if he’d noticed. If he thought it was about him, which it was, but she would rather die than have him know. Which made her feel like a girl. Time to get the attention back on him.

      “Where’s your girlfriend?” she asked. “I’ve been here two nights in a row. Aren’t I getting in the way of something?”

      “If you’ve done your homework, you know there isn’t a girlfriend.”

      “Just a string of willing beauties,” she said, remembering what she’d read. “You favor smart and pretty, but if you have to pick just one, you go with pretty. Typical and a little disappointing.”

      He pulled out covered containers from the bags and passed her one. “Be careful, Dana. Do you really want to talk about our personal lives? I’m not the only one with a string of easy conquests. What about the men you date?”

      Touché, she thought, refusing to apologize for her romantic choices. Maybe she did like men who weren’t especially powerful or challenging. Maybe she did find them just a little boring. But that was her business, not his.

      “I gave the information to Lexi,” she said, to change the subject. “She wasn’t happy.”

      “Neither is Jed, if that’s any help,” he said as he opened a carton of salad and passed it to her.

      He’d brought lasagna and salad. The delicious scent made her stomach growl.

      “I’ve been buying up stock,” he continued. “Large blocks of stock. It’s all legal.”

      “Are you sure? You love the gray area.”

      He smiled. “More than most, but not this time. I’ve filed the paperwork. The only thing I haven’t done is announce what’s going on. But word will get out and the other stockholders will get nervous.”

      “Is that your plan?”

      “Yes. I’m going to back Jed into a corner and force him to do something stupid.”

      “He’s a dangerous man when cornered.”

      “I’m dangerous all the time.”

      “You forgot modest,” she said before taking a bite of the lasagna. It was so good, she nearly moaned.

      “I don’t care what people think of me. I want to win.”

      This wasn’t a moment she could have predicted—having dinner with Garth in his penthouse. She could see all the lights of Dallas glittering around them. The meal was excellent, the man more interesting than she could have imagined. If his dark eyes seemed to see too much, she would just have to learn to keep herself disguised.

      “What happens if Jed starts to buy back stock himself?” she asked.

      “To do that, he’ll need cash and right now he doesn’t have any.”

      “Do I want to ask how you know that?”

      “Not really.”

      “Okay. So he’ll sell something to raise…” She got the big picture. “That’s what you want. Him selling off assets. Then you’ll buy them, one by one.”

      “A Titan yard sale.”

      She thought about Jed Titan’s holdings. Which would Garth covet most? The shipyards? The oil field? “You want Glory’s Gate,” she said. “It’s been in the family for generations.”

      “I’m family.”

      His sisters had grown up there. It was home to them. Well over a thousand acres of prime pasture and cattle. A huge house and all the prestige that went with owning it.

      “Jed will never risk Glory’s Gate.”

      “You


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