Taming the Tycoon

chapter Ten


“These selling well?”

Addie looked up from the stack of mail on the shop counter she’d been neglecting for the last couple of weeks. A fresh bouquet of flowers wafted sweet perfume her way.

She’d sent Tiffany to lunch and Nathaniel had just delivered a batch of alpaca woolens as his grandmother, in what Addie could only assume was a priceless bit of matchmaking, insisted on sending them to him to be personally delivered.

Addie nodded absently. “A few a week.”

“You do know you could make much more on these than you are, right? I know for a fact that Grandy sells these for twenty quid each at the market and you’re paying them fifty quid each and then selling them for only seventy.”

Addie quirked an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting I rip off your grandmother?”

“No. I’m suggesting that healthy profit margins are good for business and I’m betting you don’t have much of a markup on the rest of the stuff you sell, either.”

She shrugged. “Times are hard for people out there, Nate.”

He shook his head and Addie wondered if taking off her shirt would avert the lecture she felt sure was coming. Anxiety reared its ugly head—it had been a few weeks and while Nathaniel certainly seemed to be enjoying the benefits of their arrangement, the blinders were still firmly attached to his eyes.

He still thought and acted like a businessman first, and the last two times she’d bought up the garden, he’d cut her off short.

She stretched her neck from side to side. She hadn’t meditated since he’d become a fixture in her life—being kept up all night, every night, was making her too bloody tired—and she could feel the buildup of bad energy and stress.

“It’s not the way to run a business. What profit do you make on the shop?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know the latest figures. That’s why I have an accountant.”

“Addie.”

She despaired at the exasperation in his voice. He really struggled with her casual attitude to money. “It breaks even. The online organic food is the profitable arm of the business.”

“And you outsourced the management of that, too, right?”

She bristled. “I hired some good people to run it for me, once it was established, yes.”

“You’re very trusting.”

Addie gave a brittle laugh at the way he said it. Like it was a bad thing. She guessed that was the difference between them—she took people at their word, he was naturally suspicious.

“You should try it some time,” she said testily.

He snorted. “My father would roll in his grave.”

She blinked. It was the first time he’d mentioned his father, and she was intrigued, despite her annoyance. She leaned her elbow on the top of the counter propping her chin on her fisted palm. “Maybe if your father had trusted more people, he might still be alive.”

His eyes turned arctic and Addie felt the chill all the way across the room. Too bad. She wasn’t here to back away when things got uncomfortable. She wasn’t one of his yes-women. And if he was going to be critical of her, then he could take a little heat himself.

Frankly, this whole conversation was setting her teeth on edge.

“You don’t know the first thing about my father.”

“I know he had a reputation for shady deals. I know he died at forty-five from a heart attack under a huge black cloud. I know you idolized him.”

Nathaniel crossed his arms. “He grew up dirt poor, being pushed from pillar to post, living on the streets half the time. He learned very early not to trust anyone. And despite that, he was a brilliant, hugely successful businessman who made a lot of money. What’s not to idolize?”

“Doesn’t it matter how he made it?” She was damned if she’d let Nathaniel romanticize his father’s less than salubrious dealings.

Nathaniel dropped his gaze and she watched as he started to prowl around the shelves, picking up crystals and inspecting them.

“He was a street kid, he didn’t have anyone to hand him down a moral compass, Addie. Yes, he pushed the envelope sometimes, but he did the best he could with what he had and never did anything illegal.”

Addie folded her arms. Just morally questionable.

“He certainly wouldn’t have put up with the crap over the St. Agnes rose garden that I have.”

She didn’t doubt it for a minute. “I guess he just would have bulldozed it into the ground in the middle of the night, huh?”

Nathaniel looked at her and she could see the stubborn set of his jaw. “And he would have had every right to do so.”

“So why haven’t you?” she asked softly.

He snorted. “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.”

“But you haven’t,” Addie insisted, “because you do have a moral compass.”

A crystal clattered from Nathaniel’s hand onto the glass shelf and she watched as he righted it. He didn’t say anything for a moment and she wondered if he was reflecting on his mother’s influence. Eventually, his blue eyes swept over her like a lighthouse beacon, a sardonic smile on his beautiful mouth.

“Or maybe I just want to keep getting into your pants?”

Okay. Obviously he’d talked about his father as much as he was going to.

Addie swallowed at the calculating look in his predatory gaze and the deliberately coarse turn of phrase. She really shouldn’t be turned on so much now and the fact that she was didn’t sit easily.

Where was her pride and self–respect?

She’d spent weeks telling herself that she was doing this for Nathaniel, to save him from himself, but he casually mentioned destroying the garden and instead of being outraged as he slowly advanced toward her with sex in his eyes, she was practically melting into a puddle.

“Yes,” she murmured as he drew nearer, his broad shoulders filling her vision. “Bulldozing the garden would certainly not be conducive to getting into my pants.”

Nathaniel stood on the opposite of the counter and leaned in. Addie shifted back. She couldn’t think when the man was so damn close.

“What if I offered to look over your books? Give you some business advice, see if I can help the shop become a better earner for you?” She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hands and she let him continue. “Just advice, you don’t have to take it. Would that earn me some brownie points?”

Addie considered refusing, but maybe he was right—there wasn’t anything wrong with efficiency, was there? Maybe there was a better way she could be doing it? She’d made her business a success by being smart and taking good advice—why should she reject his out of hand?

And the truth was, there was a small part of her that was relieved he was actually interested in more than just sex. So far, their relationship had been pretty much a one-way street. One where she gave, gave, gave, and he took, took, took.

And that was fine—she’d known what she was getting herself into. But maybe, just maybe, she was making headway?

“Okay,” she said, shrugging.

His face broke into a broad grin and Addie’s belly flopped and she knew for her own sake there was no way she could just give in without trying to get a concession from him. If he knew how easy she was becoming, he would be ruthless.

“But I want you to stop shaving on the weekend.”

Nathaniel frowned. “What?”

“You heard me. You shave that fabulous jaw of yours into strict compliance twice a day. Every day. It’s too much.”

“Why?” he demanded.

Addie suppressed her irritation at his petulant child act. She’d given up on finding her center—that had been lost a long time ago—but she still believed that you caught more flies with honey. She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear.

“Because I like the way it scratches on your way down.”

She smiled at his very distinct swallow.

…

Another week passed. The Indian summer ended, replaced with a fresh autumnal crispness as the nights started to draw in. Addie took Nathaniel to Madame Tussauds, to do a brass rubbing at St. Martin’s in the Field church, and dragged him out into the cold night air to watch the bascules being raised on Tower Bridge to allow a ship through.

She was particularly happy with her choice for this chilly Friday lunchtime. She’d been planning on taking Nathaniel to St. Aggie’s rose garden for a while, but hadn’t wanted to do it straight up. To be so obvious. But she hadn’t been to the garden since the day of the protest and she usually visited once a week, often with Penny.

It was another routine in her life that had fallen by the wayside since her campaign to tame the tycoon had begun.

And now that Dave’s vision had been investigated and he’d finally admitted to being intoxicated at the time during a rather hilarious press conference, the unprecedented number of pilgrims had fallen off and it was once again peaceful green space instead of Wembley Stadium.

Would it make him uncomfortable? Maybe, but too bad. If he was hell-bent on destroying something so amazing, the least he could do was experience it first.

“Where are we going?” Nathaniel asked as they came out of the Tube station.

“For a picnic.”

But as they got closer to their destination, he looked at her and said, “Seriously?”

She shrugged. “Best place in London for a picnic.”

Nathaniel stopped mid-stride. “I’ve heard all the rhetoric, Addie, and I’ve spent all morning dealing with your cronies’ latest efforts to derail the development. I do not want you in my ear about it while I’m supposed to be relaxing.”

Addie snorted. It was good to know he associated their sessions with relaxation, but he still had a way to go. “I won’t say a word,” she promised as she tugged on his hand.

Penny was waiting outside the garden with a picnic basket in hand. She nodded politely at Nathaniel, but Addie could tell she still didn’t approve. From his forced smile, it was obvious Nathaniel could sense it. Hating to be so at odds with her best friend, she gave Penny a fierce thank-you hug before dragging Nathaniel into the garden.

Instantly, Addie’s flagging spirits revived. Nathaniel could be hell on her generally upbeat mood, but this garden knew how to work magic.

She took a deep breath, her eyes drinking in the neat rows of rose bushes penned in by the aged beauty of an ancient brick wall covered in ivy. The late summer heat had kept them mostly in bloom, but the cold snap this week had seen the flowers start to drop and the grassy paths between were strewn with rose petals.

Old, gnarly trees at each corner provided ample shade for the bench seats that lined the perimeter of the garden, but Addie chose to wander along the rows with a silent Nathaniel until she was dead center. She passed him the blanket Penny had included and he looked at her for a moment before spreading it on the ground.

She plastered a smile on her face and sat, conscious of him joining her as she pulled the feast out of the basket.

“So we’re just going to sit here and look at the roses and eat?” he asked. “You’re not going to launch into an agenda?”

She handed him his still-warm bacon sandwich. “Nope.”

He looked at her skeptically, but accepted the offering and they munched in silence for a couple of minutes.

“Hmm, that was good,” Nathaniel said as he wiped his hands and face on a napkin.

Addie had to agree. She’d started eating bacon again recently. Her vegetarianism had been a health choice rather than a philosophical one, and it had been too damn hard to smell it cooking that first Sunday morning in his apartment and not succumb to its lure.

Going without the last few years had been easy enough when it was never in her fridge to entice her, but having it cooked for you by a gorgeous man in his underwear who could tempt the devil—and she just hadn’t been that strong.

Even now, he’d missed some bacon grease on his upper lip and Addie had to stomp down hard on the urge to lick it off him. She shook her head and just looked at him. The man was sitting on a picnic rug in a suit.

“What?” he asked warily.

She shook her head. “Here.” And she reached for his tie, pulling at the knot.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Addie, Addie, Addie, you’ll wear me out.”

Addie snorted. “Like that would ever be possible.”

Nathaniel frowned. He placed his hand on hers. “Leave it.”

Addie glared at him as a tangle of irrational emotion rose in her chest. “You’re at a picnic, Nate. At least try and look the part.”

He dropped his hand and she undid his tie, zipping it out from his collar. Her fingers went for his buttons next, undoing the top three.

“Now at least you look like you know how to relax,” she said, satisfied with his more casual appearance.

He was framed by rose bushes, and that irrational feeling returned as she realized that she was looking at the current stakes in her life and didn’t like the choices. Nor did she like or even understand how he could make her so damn mad and yet still want to push him down on the ground and have her way with him.

Addie flopped back onto the blanket and shut her eyes. It blocked out both problems and stopped her from reaching for him. She concentrated on finding her center somewhere in the swirling abyss of emotion.

Slowly, the numbers came, trickling in at first, the prime numbers she knew so well seemingly lost in her turmoil but gradually they came, faster and faster, and she mentally grabbed hold, uttering them silently, desperate for their comfort.

Nathaniel looked down at her. Beneath her bubble jacket, she was in low-slung jeans and a button-up skivvy. She’d stuffed her hair into a funky woolen cap that he recognized as one of Grandy’s creations and pulled it down over her ears.

She was also obviously wearing her cranky pants.

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now, but he knew what he wanted to do with her all stretched-out horizontal beside him, and it definitely involved getting her out of those cranky pants.

He lay back instead, pretty sure she would not be receptive to his advances. The deep purple petals in his peripheral vision seemed to mock him. He drummed his fingers on the blanket, conscious of the seconds, the minutes ticking by.

Remembering the report waiting on his desk about a new property he was looking at acquiring. Going over the briefing notes in his head that Margaret had handed him this morning for his two p.m. meeting.

“Stop thinking.”

He rolled his head to the side at the grouchy command. “I’m not good at being idle.”

“Look at that,” she said and his gaze followed her finger as she pointed at a plane flying overhead. “Don’t you ever wonder where they’re going?”

Nathaniel frowned. “No.”

Addie’s arm dropped to the ground as she muttered, “Of course not.”

“It’s just a plane, Addie,” he said to her closed-eyed demeanor. He didn’t have time in his life to daydream about flight destinations. “A machine that gets you from A to B.”

She opened her eyes and shook her head at him. “It transports people’s dreams. People coming and going to holidays or weddings or reunions, or moving to other countries, or just coming home again. I love how palpable the anticipation is on planes.”

Nathaniel was usually head down in work on a plane, so he couldn’t say he’d ever noticed, but she was in a strange mood and he wasn’t going to poke a stick at her in this garden of all places, because he had a feeling it was the surroundings that were making her moody.

He looked back to the sky. After a moment or two, he said tentatively, “So…I’ve gone through your books.”

He sensed rather than saw her eyes open. “Oh?”

“I have some suggestions, if you want to hear them.”

There was movement beside him and Addie sat up, hugging her knees, her back to him. “Or I can just give you the report I prepared when we get back to the office.”

Addie’s head turned and she blinked down at him. “You prepared a report?”

“I thought it would be easier for you to have a hard copy for easy reference.”

Addie looked away and said, “Just give me the dot points.”

Nathaniel sat, too, his arm brushing hers. “I think there are some very easy places you could make some savings. You could have a bigger markup on your products. The Docks has a reputation for expensive quality goods, so you have a lot of leeway. You could run the shop yourself, negating the expense of a staff member with the added advantage of being more in touch with what’s happening there. And you could stay open later and consider opening on Sundays as well. You also buy your crystals from UK suppliers who charge like wounded bulls. There are cheaper options you could explore.”

She didn’t say anything for a while and she was so still he started to wonder if she was stroking out at his very sensible suggestions.

“Addie?” he prompted.

She turned her head. “You think I should sack Tiffany?”

“It’s one of the options you have.”

“She helps supports her family because Burt, her dad, is out of work due to a back injury.”

“There are other jobs,” he said gently.

“She’s dyslexic.”

Addie’s big gray eyes bored into his. She had a way of making him feel lower than a snake’s belly, and he hated feeling like a criminal just because he’d pointed out where she could be more efficient with her business.

He especially hated that she looked so wretched he wanted to pull her into his arms and take it all back. But he was making sound business sense—any manager would tell her the same—and he wouldn’t apologize for that.

Even if she was looking at him like he’d ripped every rose bush in this garden out by the roots.

He scanned his surroundings. He couldn’t hope to be given a fair hearing with them sitting in the middle of their metaphorical battleground. “I think I should go,” he said, standing.

“You’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re really going to knock this all down. Pave paradise.”

Her bleak words cut deeper than any screeched insult from a megaphone. “I know that you were hoping to change my mind, but I need the garden, Addie.”

Addie hugged her knees. “You don’t need it. You want it. I need it.”

“Addie—”

“Don’t come tonight.” She cut him off without even bothering to looking at him.

Nathaniel steeled himself against the quiet rejection. The thought of not sharing her bed for the first night in weeks hit him like a sledgehammer, but he wasn’t going to grovel. And he wasn’t going to ditch a deal that would cost him precious time and money and derail a goal sixteen years in the making. This thing, whatever this thing was, had obviously just run its course.

And that was good.

It had taken up way too much of his time. He could get back to concentrating on the things that were important in his life.

Sex he could get anywhere. Uncomplicated sex, to boot. With women who didn’t get in his head.

He didn’t need Addie in his head.

And he didn’t need her anywhere near his heart, either.