Intent To Seduce. Cara Summers

man as an enemy.

      A rustle of paper broke the silence as Vincent turned over the final page of the contract. Glancing up, he met Lucas’s eyes squarely. “If I sign this, I will own Lansing Biotech outright. Wainright Enterprises gives up any right it may have had in the past to patents or future research results. You’re being very generous.”

      “I want the break between us to be fair but clean. This deal severs all connections between your various other businesses and mine.”

      “Ah yes, there is that. And the fact that I will no longer sit on the board of Wainright Enterprises.”

      “That’s correct.”

      The older man smiled slowly. “You’ve done a thorough job of systematically cutting me out for the past four years. I admire your technique. And today, inviting me here to your home to end our business relationship over a drink…” Pausing, he glanced around the room. “It’s a nice touch. Very classy. Your grandfather would be proud of you.”

      Lucas was careful to keep his expression impassive. He hadn’t wanted to invite Falcone to the Wainright estate. He’d never lived here himself. It was the place his father had lived with his last three wives. If it hadn’t been for Sophie’s birthday celebration, he would have worked as he usually did on the weekends and the contract would have been signed at his D.C. office.

      “I would have enjoyed meeting your sister. I hear she is very beautiful.”

      Lucas didn’t let his gaze waver, and for a moment neither man spoke.

      With a slow smile, the older man raised a hand. “Another time perhaps. If I could borrow your pen?”

      Lucas picked up a pen and handed it to him without a word.

      Seconds later, Falcone rose and placed the signed contract on Lucas’s desk. “It’s a shame that you felt it necessary to terminate our business connections.”

      “You have certain interests that I do not want Wainright Enterprises involved in.”

      “Your father was not so particular.”

      Saying nothing, Lucas rose from his chair and, after a moment, Vincent Falcone continued, “The connection between our families is still close. Like this.” Raising his hands, he clasped them together tightly. “For that reason, our paths will cross again.”

      “It’s very unlikely,” Lucas said as the man turned away and allowed Tracker to escort him from the room. The moment the door closed, he sat down in his chair. It had gone smoothly. Too smoothly, perhaps? Closing his eyes, he began to run the entire event over in his mind, turning over every word, every nuance in his mind. He stopped only when he heard Tracker reenter the room.

      “Nice job, boss.”

      “It was too easy.”

      Tracker’s eyebrows shot up. “The four years of work and sacrifices that went into accomplishing this weren’t easy. And you chose the right time to make your move. Vincent Falcone has troubles of his own right now. There are factions in his other, less legitimate business interests who require his attention.”

      “I don’t like that he mentioned Sophie’s name. He’s quite capable of exacting some kind of revenge for this on my family.” Rising, Lucas moved to the window, but he didn’t focus on the sweep of lawn that ended at the tennis courts. “I have a feeling that Falcone is plotting something.”

      When Tracker didn’t reply, Lucas turned to face him. “You think I’m overreacting, don’t you?”

      Tracker grinned. “You’re not going to get me to say that, boss. You’re worried about your little sister. It could be because you’ve been going through a rough time with her. But in my experience, a man had better pay attention to his hunches or they’ll come back to bite him.”

      “I don’t like that you saw her with Falcone’s son.”

      “Sophie only met Sonny once for a casual drink in a Georgetown watering hole. She hasn’t seen him since.”

      Lucas shook his head. “She knows nothing about the Falcone family and certainly nothing about the fact that my father was doing business with them. But if I try to warn Sophie off, she might take it in her head to get really serious about him. She’s in rebellion mode right now.”

      “And you even end up with a black eye this time,” Tracker said.

      Lucas rubbed his jaw, where his sister had landed him a pretty decent right cross. “You may be right about that. Sophie got past you last time.”

      “She’s got some good moves. And she was pretty upset about that information you dug up on Bradley Davis.” Tracker’s grin widened as he moved to the small built-in refrigerator near the windows. Opening it, he took out two beers, twisted off the caps and handed one to Lucas. “She’s smart too. I think she may suspect she’s being followed. She tried some evasive tactics the other day when she left her shop.”

      “Did she lose the tail?” Lucas asked with a frown.

      Tracker nodded. “For about a half hour. My man picked her up coming out of a restaurant. I have two men on her now. Another two are keeping tabs on Sonny Falcone.”

      “Good. I’ll feel a lot better when she’s down in the Keys with me. I’ll send the plane for Sophie on Wednesday. She claims she can’t get away before then. And I didn’t want to push.” He rubbed his jaw again. “Once you’re sure she’s on my plane, you can devote all your attention to both Falcones.”

      “You want me to continue to keep tabs on your aunt and stepbrothers?”

      “For the time being.” Lucas frowned as he turned and led the way through the open French doors to the balcony. Beyond a row of flowering shrubs, an Olympic-size pool gleamed in the late-afternoon sun. His younger siblings were engaged in an intense water-polo match with their aunt, and at the far end of the pool he spotted Sophie seated on the edge of a chaise lounge talking to MacKenzie Lloyd.

      “I think you ought to put someone on Dr. Lloyd. She’s been Sophie’s best friend for years. They live about three blocks apart in Georgetown. Falcone may try to use her to get to Sophie.”

      “I’ll get right on it, boss. You want me to run a background check on Dr. Lloyd?”

      Lucas considered for a moment. He’d been thinking of MacKenzie Lloyd off and on quite a bit in the last few hours. When she’d fallen out of that tree into his arms, she’d called up the memory he had of the little waif in jeans and a T-shirt whom he’d met at the opening of Sophie’s shop two years ago.

      There’d been something about her that day that had caught his attention. At first, he’d thought he’d imagined the tug of desire that he’d felt. But each time he’d found her framed in the viewfinder of his camera, the pull had grown stronger. Later, he’d studied the photos he’d taken, trying to put his finger on just what it was that had drawn him.

      She wasn’t anything like the women he usually dated. His taste ran to tall, leggy brunettes and blondes. She was small, and she wore her red hair pulled back into a bun. But her eyes… Even in the representation on film, they were the incredible color of golden amber.

      Today her hair had seemed lighter and looser—a reddish-gold explosion of color as he’d stared up at her in the tree. His body had reacted to her the moment he’d seen her, hardening, tightening. And when she’d been lying on top of him…for a moment he’d forgotten everything—where they were, who was watching. If Sophie hadn’t spoken, he might have rolled her beneath him and taken her right there beneath the branches of the elm tree. Frowning, he pushed away the image.

      It had been years since he’d been tempted to be that reckless with a woman. He’d put it out of his mind during the tennis game, chalked it up to putting in too much overtime on the Falcone deal.

      Then she’d beaten him.

      Oh, Sophie had made some good plays, but Lucas was fully