The Double Deal Read online

  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.

  Two

  Head ducked into the wind that was picking up speed and throwing icy dartcicles, Royce carried the last box inside—his fifth trip. This Naomi was one hell of a delivery person. He had enough to make it through an apocalypse. Or thereabouts.

  Frankly, the hauling—while done on a day colder than the coldest day in hell—had given him a chance to air out his thoughts regarding this unexpected turn of events at a time when he needed unwavering focus.

  A visitor at his private retreat. A woman.

  A drop-dead gorgeous woman.

  He stepped back inside, his dog there to greet him with a nudge of the nose and wag of the tail. Wide brown eyes seemed to ask about this new addition to their haven. Royce didn’t have an answer yet. But he would.

  “Hey,” he said, “last box.”

  “Sorry the weather stinks so badly.” She stood at the kitchen cabinets with the other boxes at her feet, unloading canned milk.

  Naomi’s parka was long gone and...damn, she was a sight for hungry eyes in formfitting jeans with silver studs and a red fuzzy sweater that all but shouted, I’m soft—touch me. Her dark ponytail swished in a silky glide as she reached upward to slide the can in place, then ducked back down to unload a jar of granola.

  Eyes off her ass.

  He set the last box on one of the two kitchen chairs, cushioned with leather for comfort and the kind of chair that could be used in his office or in the living area. Everything in the space was efficient and multipurpose. “Isn’t someone going to be worried when you don’t return?”

  “I texted one of my brothers while you were outside.” She wriggled her toes in thick socks, stacking cans to make room for the granola container.

  Texted? “How did you manage that? The signal up here sucks.”

  Sure, he could call out and email, but his equipment was top-of-the-line with a portable minisatellite dish.

  “I have a really good phone,” she answered simply over her shoulder, inky-black ponytail stroking along her back in a way that made him consider what it would feel like to trace her hair’s path, then test the texture in a gentle fist.

  “That’s advanced tech equipment for a delivery person.”

  Stepping down, she faced him, smile bright, her full lips glistening with fresh gloss. “My family’s generous. And, um, I was helping a friend by making the delivery since they were overwhelmed with storm purchases.” She tugged at the hem of her red sweater, a slight flush staining her cheeks. “I don’t actually work for the supply shop.”

  “You’re a good friend, then, to make a trip in this weather.” He still wasn’t sure why he couldn’t accept she was here to bring his supplies. It just seemed off that the store would send a woman out alone in this crazy-monstrous spring blizzard to deliver paper towels and canned goods. He should call, just to verify, which he would as soon as the supply offices reopened tomorrow...or after the storm.

  A deep, shining smile plumped her cheeks, eyes dancing in the warm light. “We all have our reasons for doing things. Friendship is a treasure—and a hefty motivator.”

  “True enough.” His parents and their next-door neighbors had been best friends, like family.

  They’d been thrilled when Royce had started dating their friends’ daughter, the girl next door, whose father worked alongside his. His parents hadn’t been as excited when she got pregnant, since a baby would have changed his plans for a PhD. However, wedding preparations ensued...until a pipeline explosion rocked the town. His fiancée’s father died.

  Then his fiancée miscarried the baby.

  Before Royce could process the grief over losing his child, Carrie Lynn had broken the engagement and left. For good.

  Life fell apart for him. He didn’t give himself over to emotion easily. It wasn’t in his nature. Figuring out how to recover from that loss ten years ago had been tougher than anything he’d faced in his life.

  But Royce had pieced himself back together with an unwavering focus on work and a dedication to reducing the chances of a pipeline tragedy happening to any other family again. Hell, he was better off doing what he did best.

  Dealing with science and facts, not emotions and feelings.

  His passion for his work had cost him relationships, but damn it, he wasn’t interested in changing himself or his values for anyone.

  Take him as he was. Period.

  So, in reality, this woman wasn’t a threat beyond being a physical temptation.

  Reassured for the moment, he stepped out of his boots, his wool socks much like hers. Except his weren’t purple.

  Naomi closed the cabinet and settled in an empty chair, crossing her legs, purple-socked foot swinging. “Are you vacationing?”

  “Working.” A fact that shouldn’t require elaboration.

  She laughed lightly. “You don’t look like a professional ice fisherman.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then what are you working on?” she asked, drumming her fingers on his laptop computer, his abacus key chain resting beside on the table. “Your memoirs of life in the Alaskan wilds fighting bears?”

  “Nosy much?” He moved the final box of supplies to the floor and sat in the other chair, eyeing her.

  “I’m just making polite conversation. Unless you’re going to cue up Netflix, we have time to kill waiting out the storm.”

  Damn, she was funny and sassy as well as hot. How long was this storm supposed to last?

  “I have an extensive library on my tablet. You’re welcome to browse. Make yourself comfortable over there on the sofa.”

  Out of his workspace and far enough away so that he wouldn’t be breathing in the crisp scent of her, something like—he sought an intellectual answer to such an elemental scent—like the water, the ocean. Icy salt air. Did they make that into a perfume or was it just the scent of her? He focused back in on her words.

  “While you work at...”

  “I’m a science professor.” He tossed out his generic answer, a truth. He did give the periodic guest lecture series.

  “So, you have papers to grade?” she pushed without budging from her seat.

  “Hmm...” He pulled his tablet out of his computer bag and cued up the library, while making sure the rest of his data was tightly password protected.

  “You’re not the chatty sort.”

  “Nope.”

  “You were talkative earlier, with the bear.” She toyed with her ponytail, shiny black strands gliding through her fingers.

  “Adrenaline.” A chemical currently pumping through his body again as he watched her play with her hair. Was it his imagination or was she flirting?

  And if she was, did he want to take her up on that offer?

  Hell, yes.

  She reached across the small teak table. “Is the offer for that tablet full of reading material still available?”

  * * *

  Three hours later, stars glinting overhead and a fire crackling in the stone hearth, Naomi curled up with a blanket and throw pi
llows, pretending to be engrossed in a mystery novel on the glowing tablet. She’d already read it a week ago, so if Royce asked questions, she would be able to answer. Meanwhile, she could study him and figure out how best to proceed.

  Upon reflection, Naomi wasn’t so sure this plan had been her best. After receiving the investigator’s report, she’d moved quickly. Usually a strength of hers. Fast decision-making.

  But given the upheaval in her family lately, she had to admit, she wasn’t at the top of her game.

  She’d rushed up here without considering all the outcomes.

  Gathering a look at Royce’s data would be easier said than done, and a few notes here and there would only have short-term benefits. Persuading him to join forces with the Steele and Mikkelson family businesses, which were merging into Alaska Oil Barons, was going to be a challenge. Especially with the tumultuous press her family had been generating since her dad had announced his surprise engagement to the Mikkelson widow—Jeannie. Stock prices had dropped.

  Then her brother had gotten engaged to a Mikkelson and they were parenting a baby together.

  Boom. No warning.

  Stock prices dipped again. The board of directors rumbled there was too much chaos, too much emotional fallout and not enough strategy. They weren’t sure how the merger would play out, and the board hated uncertainty.

  She wasn’t so sure she disagreed with them. She trusted her family. But the Mikkelsons? She’d been raised to consider them the enemy. Had that feud ended just because their patriarch had died? Could the entire contentious atmosphere be blamed on one person?

  Not likely.

  She needed to solidify her role in the company. She was keeping a close eye on things from a legal perspective, but she’d need to win as many allies as possible to act on any discrepancies she found. She didn’t know how the rival companies would be blended or how leadership positions would be divided. Nabbing Royce Miller for her family’s team would go a long way in garnering loyalty and upping her professional profile.