The Billionaire Renegade. Catherine Mann
could become strained with long-term hospitalizations, so much so that even buying books was a luxury.
“Today’s package for each child included a copy of the story they just heard.” A half smile tugged on his mouth, those signature Steele eyes full of promise.
It had been a riveting tale, no question, especially when read by a larger-than-life cowboy. “You said ways—plural—of helping here. What else is the foundation doing?”
She was curious, yes. But she also needed to know where to avoid him so she didn’t keep testing her resolve where he was concerned.
“The vote was taken yesterday, so technically, it’s okay for me to share now even though the press release won’t go out until tomorrow.” His smile widened and her stringent resolve waned.
“Okay, I’ll admit it. You’ve got my interest—on a professional basis only.”
His brows shot up almost imperceptibly. “Of course.” His smile was confident—and sexy. “We’re making a donation to the oncology ward in honor of my niece. They’ll be renaming it, to be made official at a dinner for the hospital board of directors and the charity foundation board.”
His words sunk in. This wasn’t a simple book drop-off or some quickly concocted plan to bump into her in passing. He and his family’s charitable foundation had a genuine, vested interest in being a part of this hospital’s financial landscape.
Realization filled her with the inescapable truth—and she couldn’t deny a shiver of excitement. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”
Stetson in hand, Conrad watched Felicity walk away in a huff down the hospital corridor.
He was definitely getting under her skin, and that was a good thing. Damn straight, he wasn’t going anywhere. He had wanted her since the first time he’d seen her. He’d worked to win her over since then, not an easy task as she was still stinging from her divorce. But then, he wasn’t one to shy away from a battle.
Letting his gaze linger on her, he stepped away from the vending machines and back into the flow of foot traffic in the wide corridor, winter coat over his arm. Felicity’s sleek brown hair was pulled back into a neat French twist, midday sunlight through the window reflecting off honey-colored streaks.
Her pin-striped skirt was both professional yet also appealing in an understated way as it hugged her curves, sweeping down to touch the top of her knee-length leather boots. The ruffles on her blouse drew his eyes to her neck and wrists. Not that it took much to bring his attention to her.
He was selective, dating professional women who weren’t interested in a walk down the aisle. He’d had a brief marriage and a near miss, having been left at the altar by his fiancée. His attempts at happily-ever-after had left him gun-shy.
Then when his older brother had lost his wife and child in a plane crash, seeing his brother’s unrelenting grief had cemented Conrad’s resolution to stay single. He’d devoted himself to helping bring up his nieces and nephews. He loved kids. It hadn’t been a hardship to lend a hand to his overburdened big brother, Jack. Conrad was fifteen years younger and had energy and time to spare. He couldn’t help wondering, though, if the fact that his brother’s kids were grown now attributed to some restlessness on Conrad’s part.
His gaze zoned back in on Felicity as she stepped into an elevator. She certainly had his attention and he imagined she would have at any time in his life. He’d hoped things would go a little more smoothly today, but he also enjoyed a good challenge.
He started toward the elevators just as the double set of electric doors opened, a blast of cold air gusting inside. A familiar face stopped him short. Marshall. His nephew. The middle child in Jack Steele’s brood, Marshall was a bit of a recluse, preferring to oversee the original homestead ranch. He’d never voiced an interest in the day-to-day operations of the family’s oil business.
They’d all had to step up, though, when Jack Steele had become engaged to the widowed matriarch of their corporate rival, the Mikkelson family. Shortly after that, Jack had suffered a fall from a horse that could have killed him, but didn’t. Still, it had left him with a recovery from spinal surgery that had lasted months.
Even though Jack had married Jeannie Mikkelson, the family had still been in turmoil at a critical juncture in the merger into the combined companies that became Alaska Oil Barons Inc., with stock prices fluctuating as a result. They needed to provide a unified, stable front. Hopefully the charity foundation—with both the Steeles and Mikkelsons at the helm—would help blend the families while also reassuring investors.
Marshall closed the last few feet between them, shaking snow off the brim of his hat. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
“Everything’s fine.” They were all still a little jumpy after Jack’s accident, and then Shana Mikkelson’s aneurysm. A larger family meant more cause for concern as well as happiness. “I was delivering the books to the children’s ward, am just finishing up reading one.”
“Seriously? I suspect a different agenda here.” Marshall’s brown eyes narrowed, the quiet perception in the depths so like the gaze of Marshall’s mother, who’d died in a plane crash. “Felicity’s working here full-time now, isn’t she?”
“I recall reading to you when you were a kid,” Conrad dodged neatly.
“As I recall, you were doing it then for extra credit for your high school English class.”
He waved dismissively. “Two birds with one stone. I’m a multitasker.”
“Ah, like today.” Marshall held up a hand. “No worries if you don’t want to talk about Felicity. I’m here to pick up Tally and take her to lunch. Are you still coming by tomorrow with Nanuq and Shila?”
He’d been housing a couple of horses for Marshall since one of his two barns had burned and he needed some flex space for his animals while the rebuilding was under way. The aesthetics weren’t complete, but the stalls were secure and warm. Nanuq and Shila, which meant white bear and flame, were ready for transport.
“Absolutely. See you then.”
In fact, he could use a ride to work out the tension he would no doubt feel after the impending confrontation with Felicity. Before the day was out, she would learn just how closely they would be working together.
Striding down the hospital corridor toward her office, Felicity wished it was as easy to haul her thoughts away from the first-floor lobby and one big sexy distraction in a Stetson.
But then her nerves had been a mess since she’d bumped into Conrad. She needed to get herself together before the meeting with her new boss. Felicity wove by a nurse with a vitals cart and a cluster of visitors lost in their conversation.
Her new supervisor had been cryptic about the reason for the meeting other than to say it was about a way for Felicity to make a mark in her job. Her interest was piqued. She couldn’t get there fast enough. Looking down to pull her notes from her portfolio bag, she nearly slammed into someone—
Tally Benson, waving at her.
“Hello there,” her friend exclaimed in surprise. “I’m just finishing up volunteering. I thought I wasn’t going to see you today. How’s the new job?”
“I’m excited about the opportunity.” The words sounded hollow in Felicity’s mouth, making her wonder why she bothered faking emotions with her friends. Back in high school, she’d briefly tried out for a school production of King Lear because her foster mom loved Shakespeare. During the course of her tryouts, Felicity had realized masking her feelings required a lot more work than actors onstage and on-screen made it out to be.
Strangely, during her work, she’d never had to fake an emotion she didn’t feel. Her deep well of empathy supplied her strength as she moved through the difficult spaces of social work.
Today, she felt like that high schooler