Heart of Stone. Lenora Worth

      “Part of it is swamp,” he said, reverting back to business with a smooth swipe of his hand through his too long hair. “We’ll have to haul in dirt and rock, build restraining walls, sea walls. We’ll have to build up the foundation, make sure we don’t build half-a-million dollar homes in a flood zone. That’s going to cost a pretty penny.”

      “But you still want the land?”

      He gave her a long, appraising look. “Yes, I still want the land.”

      “Why have I never heard of you? Why didn’t Chad ever mention you?”

      He shrugged again. “Your husband and I never actually met each other. Griffin Smith, who I believe you’ve been working with, acted on my behalf with your husband. I prefer working as a consultant for other companies, like a troubleshooter, behind the scenes.”

      “So you can use underhanded tactics?”

      He didn’t even flinch. “I use wise business tactics. I advise people on how to buy and sell vast amounts of property, and I do the same myself. That’s how your husband found me—he needed to unload a few buildings, some warehouses out on the river.”

      Tara knew about that property—she’d already spent part of that money, too, to pay off some of the charge cards.

      “And so you graciously helped him, for a small fee?”

      “Actually, it was a rather large fee, which I’ve never collected.” He looked down then. “We sold the property right before he died, so I held off on collecting my cut. And look, I’m sorry—”

      She cut him off with a hand in the air. She didn’t need his sympathy. “So that’s when you came gunning for me, right?” She had to wonder if he’d been watching her all along, and just waiting for the right time to strike.

      “I knew of your situation, yes. Then I did some research.” He stopped, rubbed a hand down his chin while his eyes searched her face. “I didn’t know…about you—that you were Ana’s sister. I only knew Chad was married.” He waited a beat, then added, “Tara, I only see what’s on paper.”

      Deciding that statement clearly summed him up, she inclined her head. “So you heard about the land, saw a good opportunity—on paper—then bided your time until you knew I couldn’t hold out any longer. Is that why you finally agreed to meet with me?”

      He shifted, and sighed. “I agreed to meet with you because you were being stubborn. Griffin could have handled the contract, but you kept digging, wanting to know about the company trying to buy your land.”

      “You mean Hidden Haven Development Company? Is that just a name you pulled out of a hat or does it have some sort of subliminal meaning?”

      “No, it’s legitimate. A subsidiary of Stone Enterprises.”

      “And you are Stone Enterprises, of course. That much I do know.”

      He nodded. “Normally, I prefer to remain anonymous. It just makes things easier in the long run.”

      She nodded. “Easier for you. That way you don’t have to face the people you’ve bullied and taken advantage of.”

      “I take advantage of situations, not people,” he said, and she could see the fire of that conviction in his slate-colored eyes. He actually believed that baloney.

      “Oh, good. I feel better already.”

      “Look,” he said, impatience and irritation coloring his words. “Can we just get on with this? Do you want to sell me the property or not?”

      Crossing her arms again, she asked in a defiant, split second decision, “What if I’ve changed my mind? What if I say the deal is off?”

      And then, he did it. He pounced.

      Pulling her across the table with a hand wrapped around her wrist, Stone brought Tara’s face close to his, his shimmering eyes moving over her hair and lips. “Oh, no, darling. It doesn’t quite work that way. Because you see, now, I want much more than that land, Tara.”

      “You’re going to have to explain that,” she said, her face inches from his. “What else could you possibly want?”

      Stone stared at the woman he was holding, his thoughts going back to yesterday, when he’d first met her. That particular encounter had kept him awake most of last night. He’d come so close to calling her in the middle of the night to prepare her, but around 3:00 a.m. had decided it wouldn’t matter. He’d probably never see Tara Parnell again after this sale was finalized.

      If it was finalized. By the look in her cornflower-blue eyes, that might not be happening anytime soon.

      But he wanted to see her again.

      And what he wanted right now, right this very minute, was to kiss her. But Stone refrained from that particular need. He had to play this cool. He had to forget about how attracted he was to Tara Parnell and remember the real prize.

      He wanted that land. And her. But he couldn’t tell her that, of course. Not yet, anyway.

      “I want us to talk about it,” he said, hoping she would stick around long enough for that, at least. “We need to have a calm, rational discussion.”

      She yanked her arm away, as if disgusted with him. “I am not calm and rational right now. And I want to get as far away from you as possible.”

      He didn’t blame her. Stone knew he had her cornered. It was how he worked. He negotiated through his lawyers and managers, then he sat back and waited, always silent, always low-key, and always one step ahead of the rest of the pack. It drove people crazy, but it worked. But strangely, today’s victory didn’t bring him the usual rush of adrenaline he normally got when closing a deal. “I did try—”

      Her finger in the air stopped him. “Do not tell me again how you tried to warn me. Nothing could have prepared me for this.”

      “I’m willing to explain it to you,” he said, wishing he could explain his need for more money and power, his need to be successful at all costs. “If you sit down and let me bring my people back in, I can show you why this is a fair offer.”

      She paced the floor, giving him ample time to enjoy the way her crisp suit fit her slender, petite body. He also enjoyed the way she tossed those thick, blond bangs out of her pretty eyes.

      Except those eyes were now centered on him.

      “Okay,” she said, the one word calm and quiet. “Get them back in here. Where do I sign?”

      Her defeat floored Stone. Literally. He sank down in his own chair, ran a hand through his long bangs, then glanced up at her. “What? No fight? And to think, I was so looking forward to sparring with you.”

      She turned then and he would never forget the look in her eyes. Forget disgust. She hated him. Stone could feel it to his very soul. And nothing had ever burned him so badly.

      “I don’t have any fight left,” she said, her words devoid of any emotion. “I have to consider my children.” She turned away again.

      Don’t let her cry, Stone silently pleaded. Although he wasn’t sure to whom or what he was pleading.

      But she didn’t cry. She just wrapped her arms against her stomach, as if to ward off being sick, then turned to face him. “Since you know so very much about my late husband, and me, too, for that matter, Mr. Dempsey, then you probably know that I can’t hold out any longer. I’ve used up most of my assets to pay off the credit cards and the other bills. I’ve used some of the life insurance to make the house payment, and while I’m trying to sell the house, I still need to buy groceries and clothes for three growing girls, not to mention school supplies and health insurance, so I’ve sold off everything I could to have some sort of cash flow. But soon that will be dried up, too. And my salary, as nice and cushy as it might seem, won’t begin to cover the debts my husband left because my company has threatened downsizing