Big-city Bachelor. Ingrid Weaver
to stroke his fingertips along those tender hollows. How would she react if he did? Would she freeze him with a look, the way Tiffany used to? Would she slap him with a harassment suit?
Or would another blush spread across her cheeks? Would those devilish green eyes sparkle with interest? Would her incredibly expressive mouth move into another smile?
What was the matter with him? It must be stress. The future of the company, the security he’d planned for his children, it all depended on his ability to persuade Lizzie out of her shares. Whether she knew it or not, she was his adversary.
So he simply wouldn’t allow himself to be affected by her smile or her legs or her wholesome attractiveness. Right. Discipline and control, that’s what was necessary to keep the company running smoothly. That’s what kept his life running smoothly.
The only aspect of Miss Lizzie Hamill that he could consider attractive was the fifty percent of his company that she owned.
And the only part of her body that he was concerned about was the hand that would sign over her shares.
Chapter Two
“And this is my office,” Alex said, holding open a door.
Lizzie stepped inside eagerly, knowing this was the culmination of her guided tour of Whitmore and Hamill. Maybe now they would get down to business and she’d learn what her responsibilities in this company would be. Besides lending her name to the letterhead, that is.
For the past hour or so Alex had ushered her around the entire complex layout of the thirty-sixth floor. They had progressed from meeting rooms to the tape editing rooms and the layout studio and then on to an array of individual offices ranging from windowless cubbyholes to spacious corner rooms.
As Alex had introduced her to the rest of the staff, she’d been astounded by the number and the variety of the people who worked here. She met a few fashion plates who could have been clones of Pamela the receptionist, and she also met some genuinely friendly people who had claimed to have been very fond of her uncle. It had been a pleasant experience, since overall the staff had treated her with the same polite hospitality that Alex had been displaying.
Their last stop had been the office her uncle had used, but there had been little to see there—Alex had already explained that Roland hadn’t been involved with the company for a few years. Lizzie had lingered, hoping to find some clue to the character of the man she’d never known, but the shelves and the desk were bare, giving away nothing that could begin to satisfy her growing curiosity.
Walking into Alex’s office now, Lizzie admitted to herself that her uncle wasn’t the only partner of Whitmore and Hamill that she was curious about.
“Why don’t you relax for a while?” Alex suggested, pausing beside the door. “I’ll ask Rita to make us some coffee while we wait for Jeremy.”
Lizzie smiled and agreed, pleased that her tongue seemed to have recovered fully from its initial paralysis.
Alex slipped out of the office with the same animal grace that characterized all his movements. His voice drifted back through the doorway as he spoke quietly with the dour, middle-aged woman he’d introduced as his secretary. Even though Lizzie couldn’t make out the words, she tilted her head, simply enjoying the sound. No matter how often she heard him speak, his words still evoked thoughts of spells and fairy tales.
She might never get used to his appearance, either. What normal woman would? Especially one whose last suitor had considered a ripped-out cedar tree to be romantic.
Hold on there, girl, she cautioned herself. This was her business partner. Their association had happened literally by accident. Just because she had trouble keeping her imagination in check didn’t mean that she had to let him know about it. Prince Charming. Lordy, he’d think she was a complete fool if he ever knew the thoughts she’d been entertaining about him.
Lizzie turned from the door and walked slowly around the room, pausing to read the framed certificates that attested to awards of excellence that the company had won. Her company. Whether it was deserved or not, she felt a surge of the same kind of pride she’d felt on seeing the plaque with her name.
It’s yours. For once in your life, you have something that’s just for you.
Well, it wasn’t all hers. Fifty percent of it was Alex’s. Clasping her hands behind her back, she moved toward the massive L-shaped oak desk that dominated the spacious office. There was a computer set up on one side and an area for paperwork on the other. No clutter marred the polished surface, though. Everything was neatly aligned, from the gold pen set and the leather-trimmed blotter to the telephone that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a space shuttle. Even the picture frame was angled so that it was parallel to the pen set.
Picture? After a quick glance at the empty office doorway, Lizzie moved closer and picked up the frame to get a better look. To her surprise, it was a photograph of a pair of boys. Brothers, perhaps even twins, judging by the smiles that were reflections of each other. They both had black hair and dimples and were completely captivating. Almost as captivating as…
Who? Their uncle? Their father? What relation were these children to Alex? They had to be related somehow. There was a strong resemblance to him, not only in their coloring but in their expressions. Even though the boys appeared to be no more than five years old, there was a definite twinkle in their eyes that would probably develop into full-blown charm by the time they grew up.
Lizzie felt herself smile in response.
“Rita reminded me it’s getting late,” Alex said, striding into the office with two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. “We’ll try to wrap up our business with Jeremy as quickly as possible.”
“That’s fine with me.” She glanced up. “Who are these adorable kids?”
He hesitated when he saw what she was holding. “They’re my sons.”
“I can see the resemblance. What are their names?”
“Jason and Daniel. Jason’s the one on the left.”
“They really are adorable. How old are they?”
“They’ll be five in a few months.”
Her smile grew. “Twins. I figured that. We have a pair of twin girls in the day care center where I work. They’re always full of mischief, but they’re only three so the mischief isn’t that hard to contain.”
“You sound as if you enjoy your work.”
“I love it. I’m a sucker for kids, always have been.” She replaced the photograph on his desk and reached to take the cup he was holding out to her.
He moved the photo she had replaced, realigning it so that it was parallel to the pen set, then guided Lizzie to the sitting area in front of the corner window. He waited until she had settled comfortably into one of the deep burgundy armchairs before taking the matching one across from her. “So, how long have you worked in the day care business, Lizzie?”
“Almost four years now.”
“And before that?”
“Oh, I worked at the Packenham Dairy and then helped my stepbrother Benjamin at the cheese factory.”
He sipped his coffee slowly, watching her over the rim of his cup. “Cheese,” he repeated.
She nodded. “Pedley Cheese. He couldn’t afford to keep me on, so that’s why I started up the day care center.”
“That’s an interesting switch. What made you decide on day care?”
“It seemed to come naturally. Like I said, I’m a sucker for kids. Probably because of my family.”
“Oh? I thought you were your uncle’s only surviving relative.”
“I mean my stepfamily. When my father died, my mother remarried, and her new