Intimate Seduction. Brenda Jackson
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the managing body of SC. Chance, at thirty-eight, was CEO. Sebastian, whom they fondly called Bas, was thirty-six and held the position of SC’s problem solver and troubleshooter. Morgan was thirty-four and headed research and development. His cousin Vanessa worked for the company as head of PR. The board of directors included, in addition to his parents, his aunt and his two cousins, Taylor and Cheyenne.
The Steele family was huge and close-knit. In addition to the Steeles living in Charlotte, there were a number of other Steeles spread out all over the country. They enjoyed getting together every two years for a family reunion.
When Donovan heard the vacuum cleaner start up, he decided to make the peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich after all. He may have been overtaken by lust but in no way did he plan to starve over it.
He reached out to open the pantry at the exact moment his cell phone rang. Pulling it off his belt, he checked the ID screen and saw it was Kylie, his sister-in-law. He immediately clicked on the phone. “Tell me you’re calling to invite me to dinner.” Kylie loved to cook.
She chuckled. “You don’t need an invitation to dinner, Donovan. You know you’re always welcome. That’s not the reason I called. I need a favor.”
He smiled. “Anything for a slice of your apple pie.”
“Um, I wasn’t going to bake a pie tonight, but I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Okay, then, what’s the favor?”
“My assistant has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, and there’s this huge delivery I need to take over to the hotel and arrange for a business meeting on Wednesday morning. Any other time I would close down the shop while I’m gone, but one of my suppliers needs to deliver some more vases in the afternoon. Chance is picking up the baby when he gets off work, so I don’t want to bother him about coming here and covering for me, especially with Alden. You and I know my son’s a handful. Since you have to pass here on your way to the Racetrack Café, I wondered if you’d be willing to make a pit stop here and hold down the fort for about an hour or so?”
He’d done so before, last year when she’d been in a crisis. “Hey, that’s no problem. What time do you need me there?”
Everyone in the family knew he arrived to work at six in the morning and left at three o’clock, unless some sort of emergency came up. He worked hard but liked playing even harder. The Racetrack Café was jointly owned by several drivers on the NASCAR circuit, including Bronson. It was a popular bar and grill in town and one of his favorite places to eat and hang out. It was customary for him to drop by there every day after work before heading home.
“Around three-thirty.”
“I’ll be there,” he said, already tasting her mouthwatering apple pie.
“Thanks, Donovan, you’re a jewel.”
“Of course I am. And before you hang up I need to place an order of flowers to be delivered tomorrow to my housekeeper. She’s recuperating from an ankle injury.”
“Sure. What’s her name?”
“Earline Darwin. Hold on while I get her address right quick.”
“No need. I’ve delivered several flowers to her already. Evidently she’s a well-liked lady. I’ll make sure these get out tomorrow,” Kylie promised.
“I’d appreciate it, and will see you tomorrow.”
He smiled thinking his brothers had struck gold with his sisters-in-law. Kylie was extra special because not only did she cook mostly every day—and he knew he could drop in for a free meal—but she had made his oldest brother an extremely happy man. The family had all but given up on Chance, who had lost his first wife to cancer and had remained single after Cyndi’s death for more than seven years. But he and Kylie had gotten together, had married and now—in addition to Chance’s son, Marcus, who was away at college and Kylie’s daughter, Tiffany, who had graduated from high school a couple months ago and was currently traveling out of the country with her grandparents—they had Alden, their active two-year-old son. Like most kids his age, Alden kept his parents on their toes. Nowadays, there was never a dull moment at Chance and Kylie’s house.
Donovan finally noticed the vacuum cleaner was no longer running when he heard the sound of Natalie’s footsteps. He glanced over his shoulder. She stood in the middle of the kitchen with her purse slung over her shoulder, ready to go.
“I’ll be leaving now, Mr. Steele,” she said in a very professional tone.
He turned to her and smiled. “I’m Donovan. Say it.”
He saw the frown that lit her eyes. “I think it’s best to keep things strictly business between us, Mr. Steele.”
If she was trying to grate on his last nerve, he would not let her. Her attitude only made him even more determined to one day hear his first name flow passionately from her lips. “Okay, but business or otherwise you can still call me Donovan.”
“I prefer not.”
He moved away from the pantry to come and stand directly in front of her. “Then I plan on working hard to change your mind, Natalie. And I will succeed.”
Natalie opened her mouth to give him a blistering retort, to tell him he would fall right on that nice-looking tush of his, but paused. If keeping her mouth shut meant retaining him as a customer for her aunt then she would overlook his arrogant attitude. Instead she said, “I’ll discuss your request for increased service with my aunt and determine the days that will work for us and for you.”
She turned and headed for the door, fully aware he was right on her heels. Before she reached her destination, he said, “I’ve thought about it, and I prefer Fridays if that day is available.”
She paused and then turned around. “I’ll check my aunt’s schedule, and I’ll get back with you later this week.” She knew her tone of voice suggested she wasn’t looking forward to doing so.
“Fine, and I’ll look forward to receiving your call. And here.”
She glanced down at the twenty-dollar bill he was holding out to her. “What’s that for?”
He chuckled. “It’s your tip. I usually leave it on the kitchen table for your aunt, but since you’re the one who cleaned up the place today, it’s yours.”
She backed up, refusing to take it. “That’s not necessary. We bill you monthly for your cleaning service.”
“I’m aware of that, but I believe in tipping, as well. Take it.”
She started to refuse it again but changed her mind. She wouldn’t keep it for herself but would pass it on to her aunt. “Thank you,” she said, taking the money from his hand.
Their fingers touched, and the main thing she hadn’t wanted to happen did. Sensual energy released in her body, rousing her senses. It had been bad enough to deal with the vibes that had been radiating between them. An actual touch was downright dangerous.
She tried ignoring the reaction and hoped he did, as well, since it wouldn’t get either of them anywhere. Unfortunately, she could interpret the look in his eyes. Whereas she intended to ignore it, he planned on doing no such thing. Not only was the man arrogant but he was a rebel as well.
She fixed him a chilly look. “Like I said earlier, I’ll get back with you later this week.”
“I look forward to your call.”
She just bet he did. Fighting back the temptation to say something smart, she turned—without saying another word to him—opened the door and left.
“How was your first day, Nat?”
Natalie smiled as she looked across the room into the questioning eyes of her aunt. When she’d gotten home after taking care of her last client for the day, she’d found Aunt Earline taking a nap. Natalie had taken the time to prepare something for dinner before