Conquering King's Heart / Montana Mistress: Conquering King's Heart. Maureen Child
in the background.
Bella had seen stars.
Jesse had seen just one of the crowd.
She’d actually gone to see him the following day, in the harsh glare of sunlight. She’d wanted to talk to him about what had happened.
He’d said, “Good to see ya, babe,” and walked right past her. He hadn’t even remembered having sex with her. She was too stunned to even shout at him. She’d simply stared after him as he walked out of her life.
Bella looked at him now, and remembered every minute of their night together and the humiliation of the day after. But even that hadn’t been enough to take away the luscious memory of lying in his arms in the moonlight.
She hated knowing that one night with Jesse had pretty much ruined her for other men. And she really hated knowing that he still didn’t remember her. But then, why would he?
But not her.
At least, not again.
Everyone made mistakes, but only an idiot made the same mistake repeatedly.
Inhaling sharply, Bella told him, “Look, there’s no point in arguing anymore. You’ve already won and I have a business to run. So if you’re not here to tell me you’re evicting me, I really have to get back to work.”
“Evicting you? Why would I do that?”
“You own the building and I’ve done nothing but try to get rid of you for months.”
“Yeah,” he said, “but as you pointed out already, I’ve won that battle. What would be the point of evicting you?”
“Then why are you here?”
“To let you know about the coming rehab.”
“Fine,” Bella said. “Now I know. Thanks a bunch. Goodbye.”
He grinned again and Bella’s stomach pitched wildly.
“You know,” Jesse said, “when a woman doesn’t like me, I’ve just got to find out why.”
“I’ve already told you why.”
“There’s more to it than that,” he said, his gaze fixed on her. “Trust me when I say I will figure it out.”
Chapter Two
Jesse couldn’t figure out why he was still thinking about Bella. Why the scent of her still clung to him. Why one badly dressed woman with magic eyes was haunting him hours later. Clearly, he told himself, he’d been working too hard.
“According to research, women’s beachwear outsells comparable styles for men two to one,” Dave said.
Jesse’s train of thought cut off as he leaned back in his desk chair. The fact that he actually had a desk chair hardly bothered him anymore.
“Dave,” Jesse said, as patiently as he could, “I’ve told you already. I don’t have any interest in catering to women—in the stores at least,” he added with a smile.
“You’re missing out on a gold mine, Mr. King,” the short, balding man said hurriedly. “And if you’ll just give me one more moment of your time, I could show you what I mean.”
Dave Michaels was the head buyer for King Beach and was constantly trying to push Jesse into expansion. But Jesse had a firm policy. He only sold products he knew and used personally. Products he believed in. Growing up as a King, he’d learned early on that success meant loving what you did. Knowing your business better than anyone else.
But he realized that Dave wouldn’t give up until he’d had his chance to make a pitch.
“Fine, let’s hear it.” Jesse stood up, though, hating the feeling of being trapped behind a desk. Even though his desk was a sleek combination of chrome and glass, it always called up memories of his dad behind a mahogany desk the size of an aircraft carrier, waving at his sons, telling them to go and play, that he was too busy to join them.
Irritated at the memory, he turned his back on Dave to wander the perimeter of his office. Absently, he noticed the shelves filled with the trophies he’d won over the years. On the dark blue walls, there were framed photos of him in competitions, seascapes of some of his favorite beaches and assorted shots of his family. His lucky surfboard was propped up in one corner and the windows behind his desk offered a view of Main Street and the ocean beyond.
As if he needed that connection with the ocean he loved, Jesse moved to the windows and fixed his gaze on the water. Sunlight glinted off the surface of the sea and seemed to spotlight the lucky bastards waiting for the next ride atop their boards. That’s where he should be, he thought wryly. How had he come to this, he wondered, not for the first time. How had he ended up exactly in his father’s place?
His brothers were probably laughing their asses off just thinking about it.
“There’s a store here in town with the kind of products we should be carrying,” Dave was saying.
Jesse hardly heard the man. He was willing to do the job that he’d created for himself, but that didn’t mean it would ever be his life’s blood. Unlike the rest of his family, Jesse considered himself the anti-King, he thought with a half smile. He liked the money, liked the way he lived his life, liked the perks that being successful gave him. So he did the job, but it wasn’t who he was. The job was simply that.
Work.
He did what he had to do so that he could do what he wanted to do. Enjoy life. Surf. Date gorgeous women. He wasn’t going to end up like his dad—a man who’d devoted everything to the King family dynasty and never really lived.
“If you’ll only look at these photos, I’m sure you’ll see that her products would be a perfect fit to King Beach’s apparel line.”
“Her products?”
“I know, I know,” Dave countered quickly, holding up one hand to forestall Jesse’s objections. “You don’t want to add women’s sportswear to the line, but if you’ll just look…”
Jesse laughed shortly. “You just don’t give up, do you Dave?”
“Not when I’m right.”
“You should have been born a King,” Jesse told him and reluctantly took the photos Dave was holding out to him. The sooner he finished work, the sooner he was out there in the sunlight.
“What am I looking at here?” Jesse asked, flipping through the stack of color photos. Bikinis. Sarongs. Beach cover-ups. All pretty, he supposed, but he didn’t understand Dave’s excitement. Nice enough swimsuits, Jesse thought, though he preferred his bikinis wrapped around gorgeous blondes.
“These suits,” Dave said, “are growing in popularity. They’re custom-designed, handcrafted with all ‘green’ fabrics, and the women who buy them swear there’s nothing else like them.”
Jesse suddenly had a bad feeling.
“There was a write-up in the Sunday magazine section of the newspaper last month and from the reports I’m getting, her sales are going through the roof.”
Oh, yeah. That bad feeling kept getting…worse.
Jesse studied the photos more carefully. Some of them looked familiar. As in, he’d seen one of them just yesterday, tacked up to a wall in a crumbling shop on Main Street. “Bella’s Beachwear?”
“Yes!” Dave grinned, pointed at one of the photos and said, “That one?” A cherry-red bikini. “My wife bought that one last week. Said it’s the most flattering, comfortable suit she’s ever owned and she wondered why we didn’t offer something like it.”
“It’s nice that your wife’s happy with her purchase,” Jesse started.
“It’s not just my wife, Mr. King,”