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  A bald, strikingly handsome man stood at the head of the table. Looking into the intense glare of Pierce Randall, her heart took a submarine dive between her toes.

  She whispered a less-than-lady-like, “Oh, shit.”

  Ten

  “Ms. Raven Armand,” Pierce drawled in a voice that was as husky with promise as it was all business. “How nice of you to join us today.”

  Raven nervously checked out the rest of the people in the room, noticing the sudden change in everyone’s expressions, and stopping only when her gaze reached him again.

  She wet her lips with a smooth brush of her tongue. Her breathing became more and more shallow. Atta girl! Pierce thought. Rein that temper in.

  The air became charged with something she couldn’t quite name. His employees glanced cautiously at him, then back at Raven as though something was wrong.

  “Everyone please give us a moment. Alone.”

  The room cleared faster than a classroom on the last day of school. Each person greeted Raven on the way out. She acknowledged them with a nod, but didn’t take her gaze off Pierce.

  Ava Davidson promptly grabbed her things before turning to join those filing out of the room.

  Raven’s hand snaked out and latched onto her lawyer’s arm. “Where the hell do you think you’re going, heifer?”

  She shrugged off Raven’s hand, a smile playing about the corners of her lips. “Out. He wants to talk with you, alone.”

  Raven slowly turned her back toward Pierce. “But that’s…him.”

  Ava spread her hands out innocently. “Him who?”

  “Him!” Raven said through clenched teeth. “You know, release party, arrogant—”

  “Oh, that him.” Ava cleared her throat before declaring, “Well, if you’d given me a name—”

  “Kiss my—”

  “Temper, temper.” Ava wagged her finger as she hurried toward the door. “You’ll be fine. Pierce Randall is actually a perfect gentleman.”

  Pierce chuckled inwardly at the exchange, and was glad that he had chosen the conference room where the acoustics carried—even whispers. He pulled out the chair next to him. “Have a seat.”

  “I prefer to stand.”

  “Then I guess we’ll start when you prefer to sit,” he snapped back, leaning forward and putting both hands on the conference table. “I have no intention of talking to you from way over there.” He stood erect again and picked up the stack of documents in front of him, ignoring her, but at the same time watching from hooded eyes.

  A bored sigh escaped her lips. Raven walked to the front of the conference room and took the seat he offered.

  “Thank you.” He slipped into the chair at the head of the table.

  A long hard look was her only reply.

  Pierce placed the papers in front of her. “We’d like to make sure you’re pleased with the final product. We want you involved with the project from beginning to the end. You’ll have a say in everything, from script approval to actors to the final cut.”

  She took several moments, scanned the papers, then ventured a look at him, lingering on his lips a moment longer than necessary. “Why?”

  He leaned back in the chair, eyes narrowing at her. “Because this is new territory for us and we’d like to get it right the first time. We’re hoping that by giving you more input, and putting out a dynamic movie each time, you’ll give us the rights to your other books.”

  “How do you know you’ll even want the others?”

  “I’ve read them. All of them.”

  She blinked twice, then arched her eyebrow. “You’ve read them?”

  Pierce’s expression remained solemn. “Yes, you know, one word after the other, something I learned in grammar school that got me through high school, college—”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know,” he replied softly, placing his hand over hers. “I’m trying to put you at ease.”

  She snatched her hand away. “At ease would mean that I wouldn’t be here at all.”

  He took something from the bottom of his stack, and slid the clutch toward her, opening to the small yellow tablet. “None of your other books are as good as this,” he replied softly. “When this is finished, hopefully sometime soon, I’d like to do this next.”

  She glowered at him so long he thought she’d gone statue. “You read this?”

  Pierce swiveled the chair smoothly in her direction. “You left me no choice. I was hoping it would point me to who you really were or how to find you. You just disappeared on me. Twice!”

  Raven took a deep breath, steeling against her anger. “Aren’t there enough women in New York to keep you amused?”

  “Unfortunately, none exactly like you. And there’s nothing amusing about you.”

  “So this whole thing,”—she pointed at the documents in front of her—”buying the movie rights, was just a ploy to get me here?”

  “The movie is strictly business. My request to speak with you in person, I must admit, is personal.”

  Raven’s lips twitched, matching the throb of her temple vein. “The nerve of—”

  “I had to get to know the woman who writes with such passion.”

  She blinked, her mouth clamped shut.

  “A woman who can inspire passion just by being mysterious, sexy, and warm…”

  Raven’s anger disappeared almost as quickly as it flashed.

  Then he threw her totally off guard with, “There’s a common uplifting theme in your stories.” He pointed to the stacks of her books in the center of the table, a look of sincere admiration on his face. “I enjoyed each one. So did my staff. And just when I thought you couldn’t get any better, you’d do just that in the next book.”

  Pierce stood and began to walk the length of the conference room. “Strong women with painful pasts…and flexible ethics and morals,” he held up a hand to ward off her stunned look, “search for answers to painful questions and spiritual understanding. They cross paths with men on equally troubling journeys. The men aren’t perfect, have had some tough times and a few rough edges, but they’re not bitter or weak. By the time they come together and find the strength that is already inside them, the stories take on the redemptive quality of the best movies I’ve seen. Yet, they’re unique.”

  Raven remained silent, staring openly at him.

  “I didn’t want to read them at first. I thought they’d be all mush and fluff.” She pushed her chin forward, slid away from the table, and crossed her legs. He was now mere inches away but refused to look down.

  “What’s wrong with mush and fluff?”

  “It’s overrated and unrealistic,” he countered.

  “Totally not true,” she answered, still trying to avoid looking directly at him, at the way the suit draped over his gorgeous body. “Romance is the staple of the publishing industry. People need an escape from everyday stress. Romance novels make up sixty percent of the female readers’ market.”

  Pierce’s eyebrow lifted. “You don’t say?”

  She smiled. “It’s my business to know.”

  He nodded after a moment. “You have a little romance in your books—the realistic kind. But I like the spiritual theme in your books. Subtle, but not like you’re trying to cram religion down the reader’s throat. It’s just enough to know your characters are flesh and blood, and that something, a force greater than themselves, is driving them.”

  Her eyes softened and shoulders visibly relaxed. “Isn’t that what everyone believes?” she asked in the mildest tone he’d heard from her yet. “It’s not all about religion or doctrine. Everyone’s path is different.”

  “What I can say for sure is that I believe there is a higher power—but I can’t say that religion does it for me,” he said. “Hell, my partner and his she-cat mother are church-going people. I’m certain Satan is very amused.”

  Raven gave a little laugh and reached for a glass. He lifted the pitcher and poured water for her. Pierce studied her a moment as h
e set the pitcher back down. “And the sex scenes are off the meter.”

  She almost spit out that first sip. “Somewhere in there is a compliment, right?”

  “All of it is a compliment. Even after I finished the books, the characters stayed with me. Their lessons became my lessons. I thought about what might happen to them next. That’s what makes your work special.”

  Seconds passed before she turned to him. “Thank you for noticing.”

  Pierce bent down and rested his hands on the back of her chair. “Now will you stop treating me as if I stepped on your favorite pair of sunglasses?”

  “I wasn’t…I didn’t…I…” she stammered, withering under his intense stare. “Fair enough.”

  Pierce straightened, extending his hand to her. “Come. Let me give you a tour.”

  “But, the meeting, and…I…I…I have plans, and…”

  “I’ll make sure you get to wherever you need to be,” he replied in a low tone.

  She paused a few seconds longer before placing her delicate hand in the center of his, allowing him to lead her out of the conference room. Instinctively, she glanced back at the tablet on the table as though it were a long-lost friend.

  “It’ll be safe there, Raven.” He pulled her close. “And you’ll be safe…with me.”

  Her lips parted slightly. Pierce leaned in, pressed his lips to hers. Heat shot through her so fast, she had to close her eyes to brace herself. Moments later, she circled her arms about his neck and returned his kiss with as much fervor as she could manage.

  Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled away. Having none of that, Raven pulled him to her and kissed him again. His fingers laced through her hair before trailing downward to stroke the small of her back. He brushed a kiss along her temple, causing her to tremble involuntarily.

  Pierce tipped her chin so that she was looking directly up into his intense gaze. “Raven, know one thing…”

  Her eyes searched his.

  “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you get away a second time.”

  Eleven

  Ava paced in a quiet area not far from the conference room. Raven was going to have her head on a platter served cold, with a dash of salt and pepper. She should never have gone along with Eric and this ridiculous plan. But oh, the look on Raven’s face had been priceless. Absolutely priceless! Pierce seemed to be holding his own and making all the right moves. The fact that he had hunted the woman down showed exactly how serious he was. Yes, she might pay for it later, but it would be worth finally having the right to say, “I told you so.” She felt like doing one of Eric’s little happy dances.

  The phone vibrated on her hip. She stopped pacing and flipped it open when she saw the number.

  “Auntie Avie, I’m not going to make it to dinner either.”

  “Boy, your mother’s going to have a cow if you don’t.”

  He hesitated a few moments before saying, “Marie’s afraid to meet her.”

  Ava’s gaze focused on the flutter of activity in the boardroom. “Who?”

  “Marie…my girlfriend. She says parents don’t seem to like her. And she’s heard that Mom can be…tough.”

  “She’s got a point.”

  “Hey, whose side are you on here?”

  “Mine.” She inched toward the boardroom, thought better of it and high-tailed it in the opposite direction.

  “Figures,” he said dryly. “Just like a lawyer.”

  “Watch it, young man, or I’ll lower your spending limit.”

  Eric groaned.

  Ava walked toward the elevator. Wait a minute—did he say girlfriend? “And tell me about this girlfriend of yours.”

  “She’s smart.”

  “Okaaaay…?” she edged.

  “And beautiful.”

  She passed the awards display and pressed the down button to call the elevator. “Aaaaaand…?”

  Eric didn’t pick up the bait.

  “Okay, Eric, what high school does she go to?”

  He let out a long, slow breath. “She’s in college.”

  Ava’s heart slammed in her chest. “How much in college?”

  “Uh…ah…second year. “

  Ava swallowed hard. “What? Say that again!” she demanded as the doors opened.

  “She’s nineteen, Aunt Avie,” he whispered.

  “Nineteen!” A few heads turned in her direction. She moved away from the elevator, allowing the first car to go on without her. “Nineteen?” Ava ambled to a corner with a sliver of glass giving a tiny view of New York City. She pictured Eric at six months, all gums and slick hair stuck to his scalp, bright smile and full of energy. Then she pictured him at a rambunctious five, then seven, then at ten—all wisps of curly hair, glasses, with his nose pressed into a book.

  “She’s only two years older than me,” Eric added. “I mean, I’ll be in college in the fall, remember?”

  “Your mother’s going to cream you. Hell, she might have to stand in line!”

  “She’s a friend, Aunt Avie,” he replied confidently. “She listens and she doesn’t care about my money or anything. She loves…I mean—likes me for me.”

  Ava pictured him at twelve during his first book signing; at fifteen, sixteen—receiving his high school diploma in the principal’s office. She had deliberately skipped over the image of him lying in a hospital bed waiting for his next round of tests, but the image pushed its way back, and her eyes welled up. Why was God so unkind to put so much into such a beautiful soul and let all these murderers, pedophiles, rapists, and drug dealers live for what seemed like an eternity?

  She quickly cleared her thoughts of Eric in the hospital to hone in on the latest pictures taken of him for his new novel. The young man looked more like twenty-one than almost eighteen. And now some gold digger had sunk her claws into him!

  “Eric, this is too much. We’re already in enough hot water.” She had made it back to the waiting area. The moment she saw a shadow come toward the door, she whipped around in the opposite direction, scampering for cover. “Oh Lord!”

  “What’s happening?” Eric asked.

  Ava lowered her voice to a mere whisper as she peered around the corner to the conference room. “Pierce cleared the room. He wanted to talk with your mother alone.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  Her heels clicked along the marbled tile. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “So why did you leave? You were supposed to stick around and get some details!”

  Ava didn’t tell him she’d made the fastest U-turn in history, especially when she saw the look on Raven’s face. “He didn’t have any unfinished business with me.”

  “Mom won’t see it that way.”

  “She’ll get over it,” Ava replied with slightly more bravado than she felt.

  “Won’t save your tail, though,” he said with a light snicker.

  “You’re right, my star client.” She dropped her attaché into the nearest chair. “But if I get burned on this one, your little twenty-two million-dollar behind is going to have a seat by the fire right next to me.”

  Eric gasped. “You’d serve me up like that?”

  “ ‘Trust me, Aunt Avie,’ “ she replied, using the same tone and words from a few months earlier. “ ‘She’ll neeeeever know we had anything to do with it.”

  “Awwwww, see! Why you gotta bring up old stuff?”

  Ava laughed at his whiny tone. “Hopefully, she’ll be too preoccupied with…other things to remember that I left her hanging.”

  “So where are you?”

  Ava scanned the area again. “Right outside the conference room. I can’t see through the frosted glass, but they were both still standing when I left. No one’s moving in there now.”

  “Stay right there. I’ll come get you and bring you down here. Maybe Marie won’t be afraid to meet you. We’ll go somewhere to eat, then you can let Mom know that Marie’s cool.”

  “Now that’s why you need to stay out of grown-folks’ business.”
Ava inched forward, cracked the door and peered into the room, whispering, “Pulling me into Raven’s love life when you can’t manage your own.”

  “And what’s your point, caller?”

  “Arrrrgh!” she said, shaking her head. “They’re not in the conference room! They must’ve slipped past when I turned my back. Damn! Damn! Damn!” She started pacing again. “Come to think of it, we’d best keep your girlfriend a secret from your mother just now. I’m not sure she can handle another shock. And where are we going, anyway?”

  “How about one of Simeon’s restaurants? I get an employee discount.”

  She stopped pacing. “I come all the way to New York and you want to be cheap!”

  “Hey! I have to watch every dime,” he countered. “It was my lawyer who put me on a budget.”

  Her stomach rumbled at the array of delicious snacks in the boardroom she’d missed out on. Food had been the last thing on her mind at the time. “Is Simeon’s food any better than his music?”

  “It serves the purpose. Eat, drink, and major trips to the bathroom. So I guess the answer’s…no.”

  Ava’s tummy grumbled in protest. “I want something with a New York flair that will stick to my ribs, not to everything else.”

  “How about Amy Ruth’s? They serve up good, old-fashioned soul food.”

  “That’ll work, but I’ll meet you downstairs. I don’t want Pierce to see us together—he might suspect something.”

  Eric released a long, weary sigh.

  “And you’re using protection, right?”

  He choked out, “Aunt Avie, I’m not—”

  “Boy, don’t mess with me!”

  “Yes,” he said in a defeated tone. “When we finally get to that point, we’ll use protection.”

  She placed a single hand over her heart. “This trip is giving me entirely too much to worry about.”

  “Don’t say that! I’m being careful! We’re taking things slow. And I love this woman.”

  Woman being the operative word. This chick could probably run rings around Eric—who was a hopeless romantic, through and through. “You’ve only known her for what, three months?”