Kitabı oku: «Conquering King's Heart / Montana Mistress»

Conquering King’s Heartby Maureen Child

“It’s you.”

She staggered a little. “What?”

“You. On the beach. Three years ago.”

She blinked up at him, rubbed her fingertips across her mouth and then drew in a long, shaky breath.

“Congratulations,” she said at last. “Finally you remembered.”

“You knew?” he demanded, bracing his legs wide apart as he folded his arms over his chest. “You remembered and didn’t say anything to me?”

“Why would I?” she asked, gathering up the fabric she’d dropped when he was kissing her. “You think I’m proud of that night?”

“You ought to be,” he told her sharply, “we were great together.”

“We were strangers. It was a huge mistake.”

Montana Mistressby Sara Orwig

“I want to make you an offer,” Chase said.

Laurel stepped out of his embrace. Trying to gather her wits, she picked up her champagne flute to take a sip, thinking he was taking unfair advantage by kissing her senseless before talking business. “Go ahead,” she said.

“You want to sell your hotel,” he stated.

“Yes, you know that. That’s what this is all about.”

“That’s part of what this is about,” he replied. “It’s what you want.”

“All right, Chase,” she said warily. “What do you want?”

He took her glass from her hand, setting it on the mantel beside his and holding her hand in his. “I want you, Laurel. I want you so much that I’ll buy your hotel for your full asking price, plus half a million dollars – if you’ll be my mistress for a month.”

Available in June 2010
from Mills & Boon^® Desire™

Conquering King’s Heart by Maureen Child & Montana Mistress by Sara Orwig

The Billionaire’s Fake Engagement by Robyn Grady & Man from Stallion Country by Annette Broadrick

The Illegitimate King by Olivia Gates & Friday Night Mistress by Jan Colley

Conquering
King’s Heart

By

Maureen Child
Montana
Mistress

By

Sara Orwig

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Conquering
King’s Heart

By

Maureen Child

Dear Reader,

Thanks to all of the letters I received asking for more KINGS OF CALIFORNIA books, I’m happy to offer you the first book in a new Kings mini-series – with more to come, I promise!

Conquering King’s Heart is about Jesse King, a former world champion surfer. Jesse is the youngest of four brothers, and in the next few months you’ll be seeing more of them as well.

But for now, let’s talk about Jesse. He’s travelled all over the world, living life his way. Now he’s retired from competition and has settled down in Morgan Beach – a place that haunts his memory thanks to the “mystery woman” he met one night three years ago.

Bella Cruz is that mystery woman and she’s not happy that Jesse has moved into her home town, changing everything she loves about the place.

When these two meet again, the fireworks are well worth watching!

The KINGS OF CALIFORNIA will continue in August and October with stories about Jesse’s brothers Justice and Jefferson. Then, of course, there’s still Jericho to be heard from.

I hope you have as much fun reading this story as I did writing it. I love hearing from my readers! E-mail me at maureenc@maureenchild.com or send via post to PO Box 1883, Westminster, CA 92684-1883, USA.

And please visit my website at www.maureenchild.com.

Until then, happy reading!

Maureen

Maureen Child is a California native who loves to travel. Every chance they get, she and her husband are taking off on another research trip. The author of more than sixty books, Maureen loves a happy ending and still swears that she has the best job in the world. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two children and a golden retriever with delusions of grandeur. Visit Maureen’s website at www.maureenchild.com.

To Patti Canterbury Hambleton.

For years of friendship and laughter.

For shared memories and too many adventures to count.

For always being a touchstone in my life.

I love you.

Chapter One

Jesse King loved women.

And they loved him right back.

Well, all except one.

Jesse walked into Bella’s Beachwear and stopped just inside the store. His gaze wandered the well-kept if decrepit building and he shook his head at the stubbornness of women.

Hard to believe that Bella Cruz preferred this ramshackle building to what he was offering. He’d arrived in Morgan Beach, a tiny coastal town in southern California, nine months ago. He’d bought up several of the run-down, eclectic shops on Main Street, rehabbed some, razed others, then built the kind of stores and offices that would actually attract shoppers to the downtown district.

Everyone had been happy to sign on the dotted line. They’d accepted his buyout offers with barely disguised glee and most of them were now renting retail space from him. But not Bella Cruz. Oh, no. This woman had been working against him for months.

She’d spearheaded a sit-in campaign, getting a few of her friends to plant themselves in front of his bulldozers for an afternoon. She’d held a protest march down Main Street that consisted of Bella herself, four women, two kids and a three-legged dog. And finally, she’d resorted to trying to pull off a candlelight vigil in memory of the “historic” buildings of Morgan Beach.

There had been five people standing outside his office holding candles the night the first big summer storm had blown in. Within minutes, they were all drenched, the candle flames drowned out. Bella was the only one left standing in the dark, glaring up at him as he looked at her through his office window.

“Why is she taking this all so personally?” he wondered. It wasn’t as if he’d come to town to deliberately ruin her life.

He’d come here for the waves.

When professional surfers stopped riding competitively, they settled in a place where they could always find a good ride year-round. Most ended up in Hawaii, but, as a native Californian, Jesse had decided on Morgan Beach. His whole family still lived in the state and Morgan was close enough that he could keep in touch and far enough away from his three brothers that he wouldn’t trip on them with every step. He liked his family. A lot. That didn’t mean he wanted to live right on top of them.

So he was building himself a little kingdom here in this small town and the only thing keeping it from being absolutely perfect was Bella Cruz.

“The evil landlord stops by to gloat,” a low, female voice said from somewhere nearby.

He turned around and spotted his nemesis, crouched behind the counter, rearranging a display of sunglasses, flip-flops and tote bags. Her dark brown eyes were fixed on him with the steely look of a woman about to spray a roach with Raid.

“You’re not armed, are you?” he asked, walking toward her slowly. “Because you look as if you’d like to put me out of my misery.”

“Out of my misery is more like it,” she answered wryly. Then she stood up and Jesse took in her latest outfit.

Bella stood about five foot eight, which was good, because he liked his women tall enough that he didn’t get a crick in his neck when he kissed them. Not that he was thinking about kissing Bella. It was just an observation.

She had wavy black hair that fell to the middle of her back, huge chocolate eyes and a lusciously full mouth he had yet to see curved into a smile. Pretty, he thought. Except for the clothes.

Every time he saw her she looked as if she were about to pose for the cover of Amish Monthly: loosefitting cotton tops and full, floor-length skirts. Probably just as well, he told himself. He liked his women curvy and by the look of her, she had all the curves of a box. Seemed strange to him, though, that a woman who made her living designing and selling women’s swimwear looked as if she’d never worn one of her own garments.

“What do you want, Mr. King?”

He grinned deliberately. He knew the power of that smile. Enough women over the years had told him just what his dimples did to their knees. Bella’s knees appeared to be rock solid. Oh, well. He wasn’t interested in seducing her anyway. Or so he kept reminding himself.

“I wanted to tell you that we’re going to start rehabbing this building next month.”

“Rehabbing,” she repeated and screwed up her face as if even the word itself were distasteful. “You mean knocking down the walls? Tearing up the hardwood floor? Getting rid of the leaded windows? That kind of rehabbing?”

He shook his head. “What is it exactly, that you have against well-insulated buildings and sound roofs?”

She crossed her arms under her breasts and Jesse was distracted for a moment. Apparently, she did have at least one good set of curves.

“My roof doesn’t leak,” she told him. “Robert Towner was an excellent landlord.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard,” he said with a sigh. “Repeatedly.”

“You could take lessons from him.”

“He didn’t even bother to repaint the outside of your shop,” Jesse pointed out.

“Why would he do that?” she demanded. “I painted it myself three years ago.”

His mind boggled. “You actually chose to paint your business purple? On purpose?”

“It’s lavender.”

“Purple.”

She inhaled sharply and gave him another glare that should have set his hair on fire. But Jesse was made of sterner stuff. He was a King. And Kings didn’t cave for anybody.

“You won’t be happy until every building on Main Street is beige with rust-colored trim, will you?” Shaking her head, she gave him a pitying look now, but it was wasted on Jesse. Kings didn’t need anyone’s pity. “We’re all going to be Stepfords. Will we all march in lockstep, do you think? Dress alike?”

“Please God, no,” he said, with a glance at her ensemble.

She colored briefly. “My point is, there’s no individuality here anymore. Morgan Beach used to have personality.”

“And wood rot.”

“It was eclectic.”

“Shabby.”

“You’re nothing but a corporate robot,” she accused.

Jesse was stunned that anyone would describe him that way. He’d never set out to be a corporate anything. Hell, he’d gone out of his way to avoid the trap that all Kings eventually landed in. The business world. In fact, the King name had been a pain in his ass for most of his life.

His father, brothers, cousins—all Kings everywhere—seemed to be locked into offices. Didn’t matter to Jesse if those offices were luxurious penthouse suites. He’d never wanted anything to do with that world.

He’d watched his three older brothers slide into the family business concerns as if they’d been molded for the task. Even Justice, on his ranch, was a businessman first and foremost. But Jesse had broken away. Become a professional surfer and damn if he hadn’t loved the life. While his brothers and cousins were wearing suits and running meetings, he was traveling the world, looking for the perfect ride. He did things his way. Lived his life the way he wanted to. He didn’t answer to anyone.

Until his favorite surfboard maker went out of business a few years ago. Jesse had bought up the company because he wanted access to the boards he favored. He’d done the same thing when he’d found the perfect wet suit. And the ideal swim trunks. Pretty soon, he’d actually done what he’d always insisted he wouldn’t. Become a businessman. Not just a drone, either—the head of King Beach, a giant, diversified company that centered around life on the beach. Ironic that the thing he loved had eventually turned him into what he’d never wanted to be.

“Look,” he said quietly, shaking away thoughts that were too troubling to focus on. “We don’t have to be enemies.”

“Oh, yes, we do.”

Damn, she was stubborn. For ten years, he’d been at the top of his sport. He’d won hundreds of competitions, been featured in magazine ads, partied with the most glamorous celebrities and last year had even been named California’s Sexiest Bachelor. He had money, charm and all the women he could possibly want. So why was he torturing himself by standing here listening to Bella Cruz harp at him?

Because she intrigued him. Whether it was her obvious enmity for him, or her sheer hardheadedness, he wasn’t sure. But there was something about Bella that got to him. Felt somehow…familiar.

Jesse pulled in a deep breath, leaned both hands on the counter and looked at her. “It’s just some walls and windows, Ms. Cruz—or can I call you Bella?”

“No, you cannot, and it’s not just walls and windows.” She held out her arms as if physically trying to hug the ratty old building. “This place has a history. The whole town did. Until you showed up, that is.”

She gave him a look that was heat and ice both at the same time. Impressive. She was practically vibrating with banked rage. He’d always found a way around a woman’s temper. Until now.

For months, he’d been trying to worm his way into her good graces. It would have made life easier if she’d agreed to an easy working relationship. She had friends in Morgan Beach. She was successful—in her own, cottage-industry kind of way. And dammit, women liked Jesse King.

“The town’s history is still here,” Jesse told her, “along with buildings that won’t collapse at the first sign of a stiff breeze.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, “you’re a real humanitarian.”

He laughed. “I’m just trying to run a business,” he said and nearly winced at the words. When had he become his brothers? His father?

“No, you’re trying to run my business.”

“Trust me when I say I have zero interest in your company.” Jesse glanced behind her to where one of her custom-designed swimsuits was tacked to the wall.

Jesse’s company catered to men. He knew what a guy was looking for in a wet suit, bathing suit or whatever. He had no idea what women were looking for and wouldn’t expand until he knew. Though his stockholders and managers were after him to expand to women’s gear, Jesse was standing firm against them. He had no idea what to stock for women, yet; he’d rather focus on what he did best. Bella Cruz could have the female share of the market.

“Then why are you here?” she asked, and he heard the toe of her shoe tapping against the floor. “My rent’s not due for another three weeks.”

“So warm. So welcoming,” he said, giving Bella another smile. It bounced off her like bullets off a tank. Woman was determined to hate him. Jesse shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki slacks and walked off to study the racks.

“I’m very welcoming. To customers,” she said.

“Yeah, the store’s so packed I can hardly walk.”

She huffed out a breath. “Summer’s over. Sales slow down a little.”

“Funny, everyone else says business is great.”

“Worried about your rent?” she asked.

“Should I be?”

“No,” Bella said quickly. “I have a small, but loyal clientele.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re impossible,” he thought he heard her mutter. Jesse smiled to himself. Good to know he was getting to her as thoroughly as she was getting to him.

Beyond the plate-glass window, Morgan Beach was going about its day. It was late morning and the surfers were packing it in for the day. He knew all too well that the best rides were just after dawn, before the water was crowded with kids and moms and wannabes with their little belly boards.

People were wandering the tidy sidewalks, sitting at sidewalk cafés and, in general, enjoying the day. While he was standing in a women’s-wear shop talking to a female who practically hissed when she saw him. Jesse stifled a sigh of impatience.

He shifted his gaze to the interior of Bella’s place. Pale, cream-colored walls were dotted with handmade swimsuits tacked up beside framed posters of some of the best beaches in the world. And Jesse should know. He’d surfed most of those beaches. For ten years, he’d hardly been out of the water. He’d snatched up trophies, endorsement deals, nice fat checks and plenty of attention from the surf bunnies who followed the circuit.

Sometimes he really missed that life. Like now, for instance.

“So, since I’m your landlord, why don’t we play nice?”

“You’re only my landlord because Robert Towner’s kids sold you the building after he died. He promised me that they wouldn’t, you know,” she said, regret tingeing her voice. “He promised that I could stay here another five years.”

“But that wasn’t in his will,” Jesse reminded her as he turned around to meet her hard gaze. “His kids decided to sell. Hardly my fault.”

“Of course it was your fault—you offered them a small fortune for the building!”

He smiled. “Good business.”

Bella smothered a sigh. What good would it do? Facts were facts and the fact was, Jesse King was now the owner of her building, despite Robert’s promises.

Robert Towner had been a sweet old man, a surrogate grandfather to Bella. They’d had coffee every morning, dinner at least once a week. She’d seen him far more often than his own children had and she’d hoped to actually buy the building from him one day. Unfortunately, Robert had died in a car accident nearly a year ago. Despite his assurances, he hadn’t made any provisions for Bella in his will.

A month or so after Robert’s death, his children sold the building to Jesse King and Bella had been worried about her future ever since. Robert had always kept the rent low enough so she could afford this great location. But she knew that Jesse King wouldn’t be doing the same.

He was making “improvements” right and left and would soon be raising the rents to pay for them. Which meant that Bella would have to look for another shop to rent. She’d have to leave Main Street and relocate farther inland, losing at least a quarter of her business, since many of her customers were drop-ins off the beach.

Jesse King was going to ruin everything. Just as he had three years ago.

Not that he remembered. The bastard.

Bella really wanted to kick something. Preferably her new landlord. Which was so far out of her character, she blamed that notion on him, too. Jesse King was the kind of man who expected the world to roll over and beg whenever he crooked his finger. The trouble was, it usually did.

He looked over his shoulder at her and grinned. “I really irritate you on a personal level, don’t I? I mean, this is more than me buying up Main Street, isn’t it?”

Yes, it really was. Bella stiffened instinctively. The fact that he didn’t even know why she loathed him was just infuriating. She couldn’t tell him what he’d so obviously and embarrassingly forgotten.

“What do you want, Mr. King?”

He frowned a little. “Bella, we’ve known each other too long to stand on ceremony.”

“We don’t know each other at all,” she corrected. He was going to call her Bella whether she wanted him to or not, it seemed.

“I know you love your shop,” Jesse said, moving back to the counter. And her.

Why did he have to smell so good? And did his eyes really have to be the deep, dark blue of the ocean? Did his smile have to cause dimples in his cheeks? And why had the sun bleached out lightercolored streaks in his dark blond hair? Wasn’t he gorgeous enough?

“You’ve got some nice stuff in here,” he said, looking down into the glass display case at the sunglasses, flip-flops and tote bags. “Good eye for color, too. We’re a lot alike, you and I. My company makes swimwear. So do you.”

She laughed.

He scowled. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said, bracing her hands on the glass countertop. “It’s just that my suits are handmade by local women from custom-woven organically sound fabrics and yours are stitched together by children hunched over dirty tables in sweatshops somewhere.”

“I don’t run sweatshops,” he snapped.

“Are you so sure?”

“Yeah, I am. I’m not some Viking here to pillage and burn,” he reminded her.

“Might as well be,” she muttered. “You’ve changed the whole face of downtown in less than a year.”

“Andretail shopping is up 22 percent. I should be shot.”

She simmered like a pot about to boil over. “There’s more to life than profit.”

“Yes, there’s surfing. And there’s great sex.” He grinned again, clearly waiting to see if she’d be affected.

Bella would never let him know just how much that smile and his dimples did affect her. Or the casual mention of great sex. Women came too easily to Jesse King. She’d learned that lesson three years ago, when she’d been a card-carrying member of that adoring throng.

The World Surf competition had been in town and Morgan Beach partied for a week. Bella had been on the pier, watching the waves, when Jesse King had strolled up. He’d smiled then, too. And flirted. And teased. He’d kissed her in the moonlight, then taken her to the small bar at the end of the pier where they’d toasted each other with too many margaritas.

She could admit now that she’d been flattered by his attention. He was gorgeous. Famous. And, she’d thought back then, really a very nice guy underneath all the glamour.

That night, they’d wandered together along the sand, until the crowded pier and beach were far behind them. Then they stood at the ocean’s edge and watched moonlight dance on the waves.

When Jesse kissed her, Bella was swept away by the magic of the moment and the heat and the delirious sensation of being wanted. They’d made love on the sand, with the sea wind rushing over them and the pulsing throb of the ocean whispering 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,” Dave interrupted, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. “Since we moved the business to Morgan Beach, all we’ve heard about is Bella’s. She’s got women coming in from all over the state to buy her suits.”

Dave kept talking. “One of our guys in accounting did a projection. If we added her line to ours, the sky would literally be the limit on how well she’d do. That’s not even saying how her line would influence King Beach sales.”

Jesse shook his head. Though he was King enough to appreciate the thought of higher profit margins and headier success, he had his own plan for his business and when he branded women’s wear, he would do it his way.

Dave told him flatly, “She’s carved out a slice of the consumer pie that no one had really touched on before. We’ve checked into her and she’s had other offers from major sportswear companies to buy her out, but she’s turned them all down.”

Intrigued in spite of himself, Jesse leaned back against the edge of his desk, folded his arms over his chest and said simply, “Explain.”

Warming to his theme, Dave did. “Most swimsuits in this country and, hell, everywhere else, are designed and created for the so-called ‘ideal’ woman. A skinny one.”

Jesse smiled. Skinny women in bikinis. What’s not to smile about? Although he usually preferred a little more meat on his women.

As if he could read Jesse’s mind, Dave said, “The majority of American women don’t meet that standard. And thank God for it. Most women are curvy. They eat more than a lettuce leaf. And thanks to most designers, their needs are overlooked.”

“You know, Dave, I like curves on a woman as much as the next guy,” Jesse told him, “but not all women should wear a bikini. If Bella wants to sell to women who probably shouldn’t be wearing suits anyway, let her do it. It’s not for us.”

Dave grimaced, then reached into his pocket for another photo. “I thought that would be your reaction,” he said tightly. “So I came prepared. Look at this.”

Jesse took the photo and his eyebrows lifted. “This is your wife.”

“Yeah,” Dave said, grinning now. “Normally Connie bans all cameras when we go swimming. Since she bought this suit, I couldn’t get her to stop posing.”

Jesse could understand why. Connie Michaels had given birth to three children over the last six years. She wasn’t skinny, but she wasn’t fat, either. And in the swimsuit she had purchased from Bella, she looked…great.

“She’s really beautiful,” Jesse mused.

Instantly, Dave plucked the photo from his hand. “Yeah, I think so. But my point is, if Bella’s suits look this good on a normal-size woman, they’d look great on the skinny ones, too. I’m telling you, Mr. King, this is something you should think about.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it,” Jesse told him, more to get Dave to drop the subject than anything else.

“Her sales are building steadily and I think she’d be a great asset to King Beach.”

“Asset.” Jesse murmured the word, remembering the look on Bella’s face that morning during their “conversation.” Oh, yeah. She’d already turned down offers from other companies. He could just see how pleased she’d be with his offer to buy out her business. Hell, she’d probably run him down with her car.

Not that it was going to be an issue because, “We don’t sell women’s wear yet.”

Dave took a breath and said, “Word is Pipeline is looking to court Bella’s Beachwear.”

“Pipeline?” Jesse’s major competitor, NickAcona, ran Pipeline clothing and the fact that neither of them surfed anymore didn’t get rid of the rivalry. If Nick was interested in Bella—that was almost enough to get Jesse involved.

“He says the way to increased sales is through women,” Dave told him.

Jesse gave his assistant a hard look. He knew exactly what Dave was up to. And it was working. “I’ll consider it.”

“But—”

“Dave,” he asked, “do you like your job?”

Dave grinned. He’d heard that threat before and didn’t put much stock in it. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

“Right.” The man gathered up his notes, his research and the photos and headed for the door. “You did say you’d think about it, though.”

“And I will.” The truth was he knew he should expand into women’s beachwear. He just hadn’t found any he’d believed in enough to stock. Until now. The challenge would be in convincing Bella to come on board—before Pipeline got their hooks in her.

When Dave was gone, a spot of color caught his eye and Jesse bent down to pick up off the floor a photo Dave had left behind. A sea-green bikini with narrow straps on the halter top and silver rings at the hips, holding the bottom together.

Jesse caught himself trying to imagine Bella wearing that suit. He couldn’t quite bring it off, though, and that was irritating, too. She wore those big, blousy tops and shapeless skirts, deliberately hiding her figure. Was it a studied plan to drive a man nuts?

Smiling to himself, Jesse tossed the photo onto his desk, turned around and looked down Main Street to Bella’s place. He couldn’t seem to get her out of his head. He kept remembering the battle-ready glint in her eye. Even if she dressed like a disaster refugee, there was something about her that…

Nope, forget it. He wasn’t interested in Bella Cruz.

But there was a certain woman in Morgan Beach he was looking for. His mystery woman.

Narrowing his gaze on the sea, Jesse thought back to one night three years ago. He didn’t remember much about that night or her…He’d won a huge competition that day and he’d been doing a lot of celebrating before he ran into her. Then there was more celebrating and finally, there was sex on the beach. Amazing, completely staggering, sex.

She’d been at the edges of his mind ever since. He couldn’t recall her face, but he knew the sizzle of her touch. He couldn’t remember the sound of her voice, but he knew the taste of her.

Oh, it was more than the waves that had brought him to Morgan Beach. His mystery woman was here. Somewhere. At least, he hoped so. She could have been in town for the competition, he supposed, but he liked to think that she lived here. That sooner or later, he’d run across her again.

And this time, when he got his hands on her, he wouldn’t let her go.

His phone rang, thankfully silencing his thoughts. Automatically, he turned to snatch it up. “King.”

“Jesse, it’s Tom Harold. Just checking with you on the photo shoot scheduled for tomorrow.”

“Right.” More photos. But this was for a national campaign advertising King Beach and its end-ofsummer sale. He might not have wanted to become a businessman, but now that he was, the King blood in his veins refused to let him be anything but a success.

“Yeah, we’re set, Tom.” He turned back to the window and stared out at the ocean. “The models will arrive first thing in the morning, and you can do the shoot on the beach. The mayor’s cleared it for us to rope a section off.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there.”

Jesse hung up, sat down at his desk and shoved thoughts of Bella out of his mind. There was plenty of paperwork—the one sure way to keep his thoughts too busy to wander.

“For Pete’s sake, Bella,” Kevin Walters told her over dinner that night, “stop antagonizing the man. Do you want him to end your lease?”

Kevin, with his dark red hair, tanned skin and blue eyes was Bella’s best friend. They’d known each other for five years, ever since Bella had moved to Morgan Beach and rented her house from him. She could talk to him as she would any girlfriend and he was usually willing to give her the guy’s point of view when she needed it. Tonight, however, she’d really rather he saw things from her perspective.

“No, I don’t,” she said quickly. She still had two months left on her lease and if Jesse King tossed her out, she’d have to sell suits out of her rental house; she didn’t think Kevin would be thrilled with that solution. Which was just one more reason to be mad at Jesse King.

“You know, another couple of years in my location and I could have bought my house from you—”

He held up one hand. “I’ve offered to make you a deal.”

“I don’t need special deals, Kevin. You know I want to do this myself.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Reaching across the table to give his hand a pat, Bella said, “I really do appreciate that you want to help me buy the place, Kevin. It’s just that it wouldn’t really be mine if I didn’t do it all myself.”

“Right. Like that shirt you’re wearing?” He pointed to the heavily appliquéd, long-sleeved yellow muslin shirt that she wore with her best black skirt. “That’s yours, right? So what? You did the weaving yourself? Stitched it all together and did the little flowers around the collar?”

“No…”

“So houses and shirts are different?”

“Well, yeah.”

He shook his head and sighed. “Fine. Good. You want to buy the house and if you make King mad enough, he’ll end your lease and then no house. So why continue to piss him off?”

Bella used her fork to poke at her vegetarian lasagna, then gave it up and dropped the fork to her plate with a clatter. Folding her arms atop the table, she looked at Kevin. “Because he doesn’t even remember me. It’s infuriating. Humiliating.”

She’d confessed all one night during a monster movie marathon. And Kevin had immediately told her that she should have reminded Jesse of who she was when she’d run into him the following day. Of course he had. He was a guy.

Kevin shrugged and took a bite of his zucchini and potato casserole. “So tell him.”

“Tell him?” Bella just stared at him. “You know, maybe I’d have been better off with a girl for a best friend. I wouldn’t have to explain to another woman why telling Jesse that we’d slept together was a bad idea. She would know that instinctively.”

Grinning, Kevin said, “Yes, but a girl best friend wouldn’t come next door at ten at night to unclog your shower drain.”

“Good point,” Bella said. “But you’ve got a blind spot when it comes to Jesse.”

“God, women always make everything harder than it has to be,” Kevin muttered with a shake of his head. “This is why the battle of the sexes exists, you know. Because you guys are always on the battlefield ready for war and we’re standing around on the sidelines saying, ‘What’s she mad about?’”

Bella laughed at the irritation in his gaze, which didn’t appease him much.

“Let me guess,” Kevin said with a tired sigh. “This is one of those If-he-doesn’t-know-why-I’m-mad-I’m-sure-not-going-to-tell-him things, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. And it’s not a ‘thing’, it just is. He should know,” Bella snapped and reached for her wineglass. “For Pete’s sake, are there so many women in his wake that we’re all just blurs to him?”

“Bella, honey,” Kevin said, leaning back in the red leather booth, “you know I love you. But that is so female it has nothing to do with the world of man.”

He was right and she knew it. Men and women came at the whole sex thing from completely different mindsets. Even though she’d had too many margaritas that night, Bella had made a conscious decision to sleep with Jesse. And it hadn’t been because he was rich or famous or gorgeous.

But because they’d really talked to each other. She’d felt a connection to him that she’d never felt before to anyone. That was the only reason she’d done what she did. Jesse, though, she realized by the next day, had only had sex with her because she was there. Willing. There’d been no meaning in it for him at all.

“If you wanted more from him than one night, you should have said something the next day,” Kevin told her. “Made him remember. But no. Instead, you went all female on him and left him in the dark.”

“I didn’t put him in the dark,” Bella reminded him.

For at least the tenth time, Bella went back over her conversation with Jesse King that morning three years ago. He’d looked right at her. Given her all his most practiced moves and never once remembered that they’d had sex! The man had had so many women, she’d been lost in the crowd from the moment she gave herself to him.

“Look, I know you don’t like the guy, but he’s here now and he’s not going away,” Kevin pointed out around another bite of his dinner. “He’s moved the corporate offices here, he’s opened his flagship store in town. Jesse King is here to stay, like it or not, and no protest is going to change that.”

“I know,” she grumbled.

“So if you’re going to live in the same town with him, tell him what’s bugging you. Otherwise, you’re gonna drive yourself insane.”

“You know,” Bella told him, “I wasn’t really looking for logic, here. I just wanted to enjoy my rant.”

“Ah. Okay then, rant away. I’m listening.”

“Sure, but you’re not agreeing,” she said, smiling.

“Nope, I’m not.” Kevin shrugged. “I’m sorry you hate him and everything, but he seems like a nice enough guy to me.”

“That’s only because he bought that gold-andemerald necklace from you.” Kevin’s store stocked work by local artists and jewelry designers, so he was always happy when he made a big sale.

He smiled and sighed. “Yeah, gotta say, a guy who spends a few thousand on a custom-made necklace without batting an eye? My kind of customer.”

“Fine, fine. You’re happy. The town’s happy. Jesse’s happy.” She shoved her lasagna around on the plate. “I wrote a letter to the editor of the local paper.”

“Uh-oh,” Kevin muttered. “What kind of letter?”

She winced, regretting now what she’d done, but it was way too late to call it back. “Something about the corporations of America ruining small-town life.”

He laughed. “Bella…”

“They probably won’t even run it.”

“Of course they will,” he said. “Then you can expect another visit from Jesse King.” Kevin paused, tipped his head to one side and looked at her. “Or is that what this is all about? You actually want him coming around, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t,” she argued, wishing Kevin were just a little less observant. Could she help it if every time Jesse King walked through her door she felt a zing of something amazing? It wasn’t her fault that her hormones reacted when he was in the room. Heck, every female in America suffered from the same symptoms when it came to Jesse King.

And the very fact that he affected her so much was exactly why she was so bent on making him miserable. She probably should stop antagonizing him, as Kevin said, but she just couldn’t bring herself to.

Bella had fought Jesse’s takeover of Morgan Beach with everything she had. And still, she’d lost. He’d moved in, bought up property and immediately started ruining the only place she’d ever called home.

An only child, Bella had lost her parents at seven, gone into a series of nice, if impersonal foster homes and when she turned eighteen, she was out on her own. She didn’t mind it so much, though the pangs for family never quite left her.

She’d put herself through college by making clothes for the girls who didn’t have to worry about saving every cent. She’d sewn and knitted and crocheted her way to an education. Then she’d taken her first vacation ever, stumbled across Morgan Beach and never left.

She’d been here five years and she loved it. The tiny coastal town was everything she’d always dreamed of in a hometown. Small, friendly and close enough to big retail she could always indulge in a fun shopping trip when she felt the need. Even better, the close-knit feeling of the community fed that lack of family she’d always felt. People here cared about each other.

Now, with Jesse here, her beloved small town felt almost claustrophobic.

“Sell it to somebody else, Bella,” Kevin said laughing. “Every time you say the guy’s name, your eyes go all soft and shiny.”

“They do not.” Did they? Well, that was embarrassing as all get-out.

“Oh, yeah, they do, and I’ll prove it. Look out the window.”

She turned her head to glance out the window onto Main Street and was just in time to see Jesse King walking by. His dark blond, sun-streaked hair was too long. His blue jeans were faded and molded to his long legs and the white long-sleeved shirt he wore only accentuated his tan.

She sighed.

“Gotcha,” Kevin said.

“You’re so evil,” Bella told him, but couldn’t tear her gaze away from the man who was still occupying far too much of her thoughts.