Snowbound with a sexy stranger...
Will sharing his bed destroy her plans or lead to forever?
Naomi Steele knows it’s sneaky to sleep with Royce Miller without revealing her true identity. So is neglecting to mention she’s pregnant. Still, being stranded with the reclusive scientist provides the perfect opportunity to convince him to work for her family’s company. Yet once the snow melts and the truth is revealed, Naomi could be dealing with double the trouble...
USA TODAY bestselling author CATHERINE MANN has won numerous awards for her novels, including both a prestigious RITA® Award and an RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award. After years of moving around the country bringing up four children, Catherine has settled in her home state of South Carolina, where she’s active in animal rescue. For more information, visit her website, www.catherinemann.com.
Also By Catherine Mann
One Good Cowboy
Pursued by the Rich Rancher
Pregnant by the Cowboy CEO
The Boss’s Baby Arrangement
His Secretary’s Little Secret The
Baby Claim
The Double Deal
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk
The Double Deal
Catherine Mann
ISBN: 978-1-474-07629-6
THE DOUBLE DEAL
© 2018 Catherine Mann
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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To my sisters, Julie and Beth
“A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life.”
—Isadora James
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Epilogue
Extract
Extract
Prologue
Naomi Steele wasn’t naive.
Her life had brought enough challenges to make her wise—if not jaded. She’d expected pregnancy to bring changes too. Yes, hormonal upheaval. But also miraculous transformations, full of shimmering emotions and realized dreams.
She just hadn’t expected to feel such a ferocious internal roar—a primal drive—to protect her child at all costs.
Or possibly children. Plural? Twins ran in her family and having used in vitro increased her odds of fraternal twins. A wave of nerves—and nausea—hit her.
Breathe. Breathe. Focus.
With a report from the private investigator to her left and her computer screen to her right, she compared notes on the world-famous research scientist who could bring her the business coup—the security—she needed for her child. Sure, she had a large, wealthy family, and she lived in the confines of their estate outside of Anchorage, Alaska. Her suite was large. The enclosed balcony offered her magnificent views of both the bay and the mountains.
But none of that helped her feel as though she had a real stake in the family business. A legacy to share with her child. And since her pregnancy had been accomplished by in vitro fertilization with a sperm donor, she was utterly on her own to create that legacy. That lasting piece of the Steele portfolio that couldn’t be taken away.
Her family was in a state of upheaval. Her father’s upcoming marriage to a former business rival and the resulting merger of their two oil empires meant everyone in both families were fighting for roles in the new company—Alaska Oil Barons, Incorporated. Naomi needed to contribute to the business in a way that was undeniably hers.
And research scientist Royce Miller was her ticket to making that happen.
She let the corners of the private investigator’s report brush over her thumb like a flip book, information she already knew about Royce Miller, PhD, by heart. She let her gaze fall on her computer screen, where a rare image of him filled the space. He was a brilliant man, a reclusive genius. He was all compelling eyes and brooding good looks, his intelligence as evident as his strong shoulders.
She needed him to cement her value in the family business.
Was the anonymous father of her child half that smart? Half that strong? All moot musings. She’d chosen her path as a single parent, on her own.
Up to now, that independence had suited her just fine.
Since her battle with cancer as a teenager, she’d lived her life for herself, and with abandon. She’d embraced her competitiveness. In play, and later in her work as an attorney for her family’s Alaskan-based oil business. She preferred no strings in all her dealings, outside the connection to her widowed father and her siblings.
Now, she was still going her own way, but the stakes were higher than ever.
She had seen often enough how quickly a successful company could crash. And with the tumultuous merger of the Steele oil holdings with the Mikkelson oil family—thanks to her father’s surprise engagement to the Mikkelson matriarch—Naomi was more concerned than ever about the future of the business. Their competitor, Johnson Oil United, was hot on their heels, hoping to use the uncertainty during the merger as a chance to surge ahead in the market.
Naomi couldn’t grow complacent. She couldn’t back down.
Right now, her private detective and crazy good internet skills were her best advantages in tracking down her ace in the hole.
Finding the scientist and persuading him to bring his research on ecological advancements in oil pipelines to her family was paramount. At the very least, she needed to locate him and sneak a peek at his research. Aside from the benefits to her family’s company, his research could be the key to reducing environmentally based cancers, a passion she shared with her ecologist sister Delaney. Doubling the stakes, really.
After tireless searching for Dr. Miller, Naomi finally had a lead on the sequestered scientist. He’d retreated to the mountains to work on his research in an isolated but luxurious glass igloo.
Now that she’d found him, she just needed to come up with a plan to meet him. Hang out with him. And use her creative maneuvering to wrangle an afternoon together where she could work her way into his good graces and secure the deal of a lifetime.
One
Research scientist Royce Miller didn’t have a problem shifting from cerebral to alpha mode to save a woman from a hungry Alaskan grizzly that should have been hibernating.
But he needed to put on some clothes first.
Royce gathered up his jeans, boots and a parka to go over his boxers and T-shirt. Beyond the thick paned glass of his remote getaway, a shaggy brown bear stalked toward an SUV. Parked in his snow-piled driveway, the driver—someone in a blindingly pink parka—honked the horn repeatedly. The blaring would have alerted a couple of city blocks, except this happened to be the only cabin for nearly a hundred miles.
Well, not a cabin exactly.
Renting this insulated glass igloo out in the middle of nowhere had given him the irresistible opportunity to soak up some rare Alaskan rays this month as he immersed himself in developing new safety measures for oil pipelines. Not that he gave a damn about a tan, but vitamin D from sunshine was in short supply this far north and crucial for bone health, muscle mass and strength. All of which could come in handy once he stepped outdoors to say howdy to the massive grizzly closing in on the SUV holding his unexpected guest.
The “guest”? An issue he would deal with later.
Just because he valued his privacy as highly as his vintage Pascal’s calculator, that didn’t mean he could let the angry bear take out the dainty woman behind the wheel of the four-wheel drive. Her pink hood bobbed left and right, fast, as if she searched for options. Or help.
At least she was in a vehicle. That gave him a few precious moments to prep rather than bolt out there in the buff.
Bolting away from the glass wall, he sidestepped his Saint Bernard. “’Scuse me, Tessie.”
Tessie, as in short for the scientist Nikola Tesla.
The two-year-old shaggy dog lifted her block head off her paws and tipped it to the side. She was worn-out from their time playing in the yard earlier, a long outing to stretch her legs since he’d known a blizzard was imminent. Was that why this driver had stopped here? Stranded on the way back to Anchorage? Spring was just one breath from winter up here.
His Saint Bernard narrowed her eyes, studying him intently. Sniffing the air, the dog let out a low whine, standing. Perhaps catching the scent of the bear. Not good.
“This isn’t the time for curiosity, girl.” Urgency pumped through him as he tugged on his jeans, pausing only to turn off his computer with a brisk click on his way by. Sensitive data secured.
From the bear and a lost tourist? Not likely.
Still, never could be too careful given the nature of his work. Patent-worthy research if all played out as he suspected. And when it came to his job, he was never wrong. The stakes were too high. Too personal.
His father had worked the old-school oil pipelines, like most of the population in the small Texas town where Royce had grown up. It had been a tight community. A loss of one sent ripples throughout that touched them all.
When his former fiancée’s father had died in an explosion, Royce’s world had been blown apart too. Then his fiancée miscarried their baby and left the country. Left him...
Shaking off the past, Royce dressed with methodical speed, shrugging into a fleece-lined flannel shirt, then tugging on a parka, and stepped into boots on his way to the door to deal with the massive curveball thrown at his day. This would have been the perfect secluded afternoon for productive thinking. He’d come to the wilderness retreat for peace, a slice of time with no distractions. No question, creating a safer, ecologically friendly oil pipeline was personal.
Corporations vied to get him on their payroll, but he preferred to work solo and, thanks to selling off a few patents, he had a multimillion-dollar cushion to innovate on his own terms. Such as working here. Alone.
So much for that plan.
Thinsulate gloves were all he could afford to wear and still use the tools at his disposal to rid them of the bear’s threat. A flare gun and, as a last resort, a shotgun.
“Tessie,” he said firmly, “stay.”
She huffed in apparent irritation at being kept inside, but she didn’t budge.
“Good girl.” He tossed the words of praise over his shoulder.
Bracing himself, he unlocked the door that opened into a short igloo-style tunnel. A blast of frigid air whipped inward hard and fast, damn near freezing his breath in his chest. A painful breath, as the cold air crackled in his lungs. Steeling himself, he pressed into the howl of the blizzard wind, the blaring horn roaring almost louder than the bear.
Royce pushed forward into the full slam of storm winds. If he could steer the bear away before it reached the driver, or distract the bear long enough for the woman to bolt inside...
The grizzly ambled faster toward the SUV idling beside Royce’s dual cab truck. Now that he was outside, he could see the SUV spewing sludge from the back wheels as the vehicle worked—in vain—to reverse out.
With a flying leap and roar, the beast pounded on the hood of the woman’s vehicle, enormous paws taking swipes at the windshield. Even through the thick swirls of snow mixed with sleet, Royce could see the glint of long, lethal bear claws.
The time for finesse had ended.
Royce shouted, “Hey, you, teddy bear, check me out.”
His voice got lost amid the car horn blending with the unforgiving blizzard. The grizzly’s ears twitched but still he—or she—continued to rock the SUV, chunks of slush clotting in the shaggy coat. The blizzard dumped its fury faster and faster from the sky, wind carrying the flakes sideways in stinging icy bullets. Royce raised the flare gun and popped a flaming missile into the air, careful to avoid the frosted branches.
With a roar, the bear’s massive head swung around.
“Yeah, Paddington, now we’re in business,” Royce shouted, gripping part of his unbuttoned parka and spreading it wide, making himself appear as big as possible.
Bears usually preferred easy prey, so looking large could help scare him off. But he wasn’t counting on it. He kept the shotgun in hand even as he held his coat open. “Yeah, you. Back off, Baloo.” Who knew there were so many jolly bears in literature? Kids should be taught to steer clear of them, not cuddle the creatures. “There’s no food in my trash, and that little lady there isn’t going to be dinner.”
Or an appetizer, or canapé even, given the woman appeared to be more of a wiry sort.
The car horn pierced the air, long and loud, as the woman pressed the hell out of it. She had some serious mojo. No diving under the dashboard in fear for herself. She revved the engine, puffing thicker exhaust into the cold.
As the driver’s side window eased down, a head peeked out. That pink parka shone, hood up, but a coal-dark ponytail trailed free along her shoulder. “I’m trying to back up, but either the tires are stuck or the bear weighs too—”
“Get back in there before Winnie the Pooh takes off your head with one swipe of the paw,” Royce barked. Quick calculations told him he needed to get that bear away from the SUV within the next two to three minutes or the windshield would almost certainly shatter. The grizzly was big, but not too big to climb through the busted front glass.
“Of course I’m going to stay in the car,” she shouted back. “I just wanted to know if you can think of something I should be doing differently. I have no intention of budging until Winnie-the-Pooh bear trundles back off into the Hundred Acre Wood—”
The bear’s paw swiped off the side mirror, inches from her face. Fat snowflakes quickly piled on top of the shattered mirror, covering it in a testament to the power and fury of the Alaskan storm. Also, a reminder that Royce was up against more than just a grizzly.
Squealing, the woman tucked back into the SUV as the bear rolled off the vehicle and landed on the ground. On both back feet, wobbling but not down and not retreating.
No more playing around.
Royce raised his shotgun.
Aimed.
The SUV lurched backward, then forward, snow spewing. Apparently, the bear’s weight had been keeping it in place, after all. Royce’s shot went wild and the four-wheel drive skidded on the icy ground inches past him. The gleaming silver SUV was on a fast track to bashing into his igloo hideaway.
Royce launched to the left, out of the vehicle’s path, while keeping eyes on the grizzly. The bear lumbered off into the tangle of slick trees. Clearly Teddy-Baloo-Paddington-Winnie thought better of tangling with that pink parka.
Speaking of which.
Royce checked right and—thank God—found the SUV at a stop in a puffy snowbank, the horn silent at last. The driver? Already climbing out from behind the wheel. Apparently unscathed.
And not as wiry as he’d originally thought. She was petite, alright, but with just the right kind of curves showcased in ski pants and a parka cinched at the waist.
A cute-as-hell—but still unwelcome—vision.
Now that the bear was gone, suspicion burned more than the frostbite threatening his face. Royce had to wonder. What was this woman doing out here in the middle of nowhere?
And what did she want with him?
* * *
Naomi Steele resented playing the wilting flower for any man.
She’d been born in Alaska, was a quarter Inuit on her dead mother’s side. Growing up, she and her sisters had learned about survival in her harsh and magnificent home state right alongside her brothers. She could have handled the bear on her own with the flare gun in her survival kit.
But letting Royce Miller save her offered a golden opportunity to slide under the man’s radar.
Shading her eyes against the fast-setting sun, Naomi watched the ornery grizzly hike back into the woods and out of sight. She turned slowly, careful to give her boots traction on the snow.
And...whoa, sexy snowman.
She’d seen press releases about Royce Miller during her internet search. She’d even sat in on one of his lectures a month ago, knew about his work from her background check on him prior to driving to his remote getaway. But no portfolio full of head shots, data or even back row auditorium viewing could have prepared her for his up close charisma. He was so much more than broodingly handsome good looks. The appeal was more than his leanly muscle-bound body on display in that open parka. And yeah, he got bonus points for the thick dark hair a hint too long like he’d forgotten to get a haircut, tousled like he’d just gotten out of bed.
All enticing. Sure.
But it was his eyes that held her. Those windows to the soul. To the man. A man with laser-sharp intelligence in his deep brown gaze that pierced straight to the core of her and seemed to say, Bring it, woman. I can keep up.
Raw sexual attraction crackled so hot in the air she half expected icicles to start melting off the trees.
Normally, she would have welcomed the draw, the challenge. But talk about poor timing. She needed to focus on her mission to wrangle a way to use that brilliant mind of his for her family’s company.
And she happened to be two months pregnant. Those teenage years fighting cancer had seemed surreal at times, but she’d frozen some of her eggs before treatment, just in case. Her oncology specialist had called on a counselor to help her through so many decisions during that frightening experience.
Now she was ready to be a mother. She was through waiting around for a mythical Mr. Perfect. She’d started this journey with her career as a lawyer and her connections to her family as a solid foundation, but she’d since had her world turned upside down. With her father’s engagement and the two rival companies merging, everyone was fighting for a place. And just as she had when she was a child, she needed to prove her place. For her child. For her sister who’d died. She blinked back tears.
Pregnancy hormones.
Of course. That must be the explanation for her off-the-charts reaction to a total stranger.
That stud muffin stranger adjusted his hold on the shotgun. “Let’s get inside to talk before the bear comes back—or we’re buried in a snowdrift.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” Another second staring at him and she could well have drool freeze to her face. She needed a level head to stay one step ahead of him. Royce wasn’t just smart. He was genius smart—and eccentric.
Locating the recluse at all had taken Herculean detective work, employing the best of the best private investigators she’d used in her legal practice.
Detectives known for their discretion.
If the search gained her access to his pipeline research, it would be worth every penny. If she could somehow accomplish the unimaginable and persuade this lone ranger researcher to sign on with her family’s oil company, well, that coup would be worth more than any amount of money.
She would finally win her family’s full approval by contributing more than her legal advice to the business. She needed this for herself and for her child, a stable future. Strategy mattered more.
Royce opened the door to the glass igloo—and a beast of another kind came bounding out. A huge Saint Bernard leaned into him, sniffing, taking in all the surroundings. The air was heavy with scents of pine, the lingering smell of the spent flare gun still carried on the blizzard breeze.
“Tessie,” Royce commanded in a soft rumble, “inside, girl.”
Panting, the Saint Bernard shifted away from the front stoop and let them enter.
Bracing a hand against the door frame for balance, Naomi glanced around the space and found it much like ones her family had vacationed in over the years. God, those were amazing memories, a time before her mother and sister had died in a plane crash. Before Naomi had gotten cancer. A time she’d innocently thought could last forever. But those times had ended prematurely, like a short Alaskan day.
She looked upward, tipping her face toward the sun’s rays. The igloo’s glass dome let in the last beams of light. Only one wall was opaque, a wall with a platform bed against it, and almost certainly the bathroom and closet tucked cubicle-style behind.
Half the room had a long, curved sofa along the glass. Tessie had taken up residence on the couch, watching Naomi and Royce with wide brown eyes. The rest of the room held a kitchenette and dining table that was currently being used as a computer desk. No doubt, the keys to his research kingdom were inside that computer. Not that she expected him to have anything less than the best security.
“So?”
Royce Miller’s voice pulled her back around.
“Yes, well...” She searched for the right words. She’d spent so much time figuring out how to find him and get here, she hadn’t given much thought to being here. With him. Alone. “Thank you so much for saving my life.”
He unloaded the shotgun with a swift efficiency that shouted his Texas upbringing, and pocketed the ammo. “What in the hell coerced you to venture out in this storm?”
“Whoa, hostility check, big guy. Is that any way to speak to the person who brought your supplies?” she asked with the charm that had won over dozens of tough-as-nails juries. “Without my trek up here, you could have starved, not to mention run out of deodorant.”
“Supplies?” He eyed her warily, shrugging out of his parka and shaking the snow onto the doormat.
He made flannel look good.
But she ignored that and kept talking. “Yes, that’s what I said. You have contracted a delivery service for your supplies while you’re isolated up here.” And she’d slipped the driver a hefty tip to let her bring the supplies up to her supposed boyfriend. The driver had been an old softie, a real romantic, and was easily persuaded. Lawyer skills with word craft came in handy out of the courtroom too. “And I’m here to restock your pantry. I thought I’d left in time to beat the storm, but it came on faster and heavier than expected. And, well, here I am.”
Sure, she’d quibbled, insinuating she worked for the rental company’s supply business. Truth be told, she hadn’t outright said so. She could talk her way around that equivocation later. Because if he knew she was a part of the oil mogul Steele family, he would have likely left her to the bear.
“And you are?”
“Naomi.” She said just her first name carefully, toying with her parka zipper. Then catching the nervous twitch, she stopped. No outright lies to backtrack from, she reminded herself.
She studied his face closely to see if her name sparked even a hint of recognition. Nope. Nothing. She didn’t doubt her read of him. She’d been top of her law school class and had yet to lose a courtroom battle.
“Naomi, thank you for the supplies that you drove here in the middle of a blizzard,” he said tightly, “but what do you expect to do now?”
“I expect for us to unload the supplies in my car before things freeze.”
Sighing, he reached for his parka and started toward the door. “Have a seat. I’ll get everything.”
She raised a manicured hand. “Don’t forget the flare gun in case our ‘friend’ returns.”
“Got it.”
“I can back you up with the shotgun if needed,” she added, already sensing he would insist no, no and hell no.
He paused at the door, hand on the knob. “I’ve got it,” he repeated, then stepped outside.
Ah, and just as predicted, he’d assumed she was as defenseless as she looked. For a smart man, he had a weakness and she’d found it fast.
He coddled women.
Some would think that rocked, and soak it right up. But she valued her independence. Her strength.
Her health.
She’d fought hard for her life, battling cancer as a teen, then battling all over again to elbow free of her family’s overprotective ways. And yes, she’d gone overboard at times asserting herself, pushing through boundaries, which gained her a wild child reputation. She’d been bold. She’d partied and lived every day to the fullest. And she’d let her reputation become larger than life, more risqué than reality.
A choice that was coming back to bite her now that she genuinely gave a damn about being a part of the family business.
Speaking of which, she needed to get her butt in gear before Royce returned. This window of time while he was unloading the supplies was precious. She could recon his cabin. She would need every clue at her disposal to get past his defenses.
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