Matchless Millionaires: An Improper Affair. Elizabeth Bevarly
Ryan’s chest had been dappled plains, his biceps pronounced and his legs all corded muscle—as if he worked out but wasn’t obsessive about it.
There hadn’t been an inch of excess on him. Well, except for, perhaps, under the white towel riding low on his hips and serving as a startling contrast to the warm tone of his skin.
She heated at the thought, then stopped short.
She had to remember who Ryan was and who she was.
She could not be attracted to Ryan Sperling.
She wasn’t like her mother. She wasn’t looking for a quick roll in the sack with a rich guy who’d throw a few trinkets her way and then toss her aside without a second glance. She’d built her life refusing to be that stupid, that careless … that promiscuous.
And even if she were to be, it would be unwise for her to get involved with Ryan Sperling, the son of her mother’s former lover and a man who clearly disdained her.
She hated Ryan’s contemptuous attitude.
What had he said? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
He knew nothing about her. Nothing about how hard she’d worked and how far she’d come.
And anyway, if she was mired in mud, so was he. He was the son of a consummate adulterer.
Added to that, she’d caught the momentary flare of attraction in his eyes when he’d spotted her today. Even knowing who she was, he hadn’t been able to contain it.
Her lips curved without humor. Ryan Sperling was attracted to her, as much as he might hate the fact. Her feminine intuition told her so.
With that thought, she headed toward the unfinished bedrooms. She spent the next half hour measuring the rooms and their respective bathrooms.
She already had some idea of the pieces she’d use to furnish the rooms, but she needed to make sure they’d all fit. She hadn’t had time to take measurements on her cursory walk-through with Meri.
When she was done measuring, she stood in the middle of the last room, contemplating.
She knew she’d use Woolrich wool plaid for the curtains and some of the upholstery, accenting and contrasting with some flower and solid prints. She also needed an accent piece or two and had already thought of a deep red leather chair for this particular room.
The house, with its polished wood walls and multiple fireplaces, needed warm tones. Big, comfy furniture would add the finishing touch to its inviting feel.
Her planned theme would fit with the decor in the other rooms of the house, as well as be in keeping with local tastes. Though it wasn’t the style she favored for Distressed Success, which had a more feminine appeal, it wasn’t a big leap for her creatively, either. She’d lived in Tahoe for several years and become familiar with the local styles.
When her cell phone rang she responded absently. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Erica said. “Just wanted to touch base. How are you doing?”
“You’ll never believe who’s staying here,” Kelly responded, her voice lowering. The walls were thick, but she didn’t want to risk Ryan overhearing her conversation.
“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Erica said with a laugh. “I have two kids at home. I may not live to see tomorrow.”
“Ryan Sperling.”
“What?”
“Under the circumstances, I think I can claim the shorter life expectancy,” she said with morbid humor. “It’s going to kill me to work here with him around.”
Ryan had loved Hunter like a brother, but that didn’t prevent him from cursing his old friend over the next few days.
He was holed up in the master suite, trying without success to ignore the noises coming from other parts of the house.
If Kelly hadn’t been here, he would have been talking to his longtime lawyer, Dan Etherington, from the great room downstairs. Or while lounging on the outdoor deck. Or while ensconced in the office loft.
Instead, he was organizing a clandestine operation out of his temporary bedroom.
“Will he sell?” he said into the phone.
His father’s cousin Oliver had been the last holdout among the family members he’d approached with an offer to buy their shares in Sperling retail stores for an outlandish amount.
The others had gone quietly, tempted by a payday that would permit them to live out their days on a perpetual holiday in Saint-Tropez. They knew Webb Sperling’s inflated ego would never permit him to take the family company public, allowing them to each make real money from the sale of their ownership stakes. A sale to another family member—even an estranged black sheep such as Ryan—was the only type of transfer that wasn’t restricted by the bylaws of the corporation.
“He’s finally been persuaded, it seems,” Dan replied.
Ryan laughed mirthlessly. “Must be my charm.”
Oliver had lived a life devoted to fast cars, fast women and fast cash for all of his fifty-nine years. The only thing that set him apart from Webb Sperling was the lack of a managerial position in the family company.
“The charm of your greenbacks is more like it,” Dan responded drily.
With the acquisition of Oliver’s share in Sperling department stores, Ryan would have finally and quietly acquired enough shares for a controlling interest.
Enough shares, he thought with a rush of triumph, to oust Webb Sperling.
His hand tightened on the receiver. He could taste victory and the flavor was sweet. Still, years of playing corporate hardball had taught him to rein in his emotions—and not count on anything until he was ready to spring the trap.
Though other family members, aside from Oliver, were already on board, Ryan was waiting to take the final step in purchasing their shares until he could count on Oliver’s. He wanted to make sure Webb Sperling remained in the dark until the last possible moment, when he’d be presented with Ryan’s ownership as a done deal.
He was also counting on the fact that there was no love lost between Webb and other family members to keep Webb clueless.
“People want to sell while they can,” Dan went on. “You’re benefiting from the impression among family members that Webb Sperling is content to sit on his laurels and isn’t doing much to keep Sperling stores ahead of competitors.”
“My father has been mismanaging things since he took the helm of the company a decade ago,” Ryan responded. “For things to be different, he’d have had to show a discipline he’s never possessed.”
Webb Sperling had become CEO and chairman of the board of Sperling department stores upon the untimely death from a heart attack of his older brother—Ryan’s uncle—who’d succeeded Ryan’s grandfather.
The general impression in the corporate world was that Webb was an absentee CEO and that much of the work and decision making was done by those lower in command.
“Well, you finally hit the magic number for Oliver,” Dan noted.
“Everyone’s got his price,” Ryan said cynically. “Now that Oliver’s given us his verbal okay, I want the transfer of shares done ASAP. The last thing I need is for him to change his mind.”
“I’m sending the paperwork to his attorney as we speak,” Dan replied.
After ending his call with Dan, Ryan glanced around the room.
A noise from downstairs alerted him to the fact that Kelly was still in the house.
Damn it.
He felt trapped. It