Young man? “What happened to Mr. Garrison?”

“Sweeping that innocent girl off her feet.”

Alex sat forward. “Wait a minute-”

“Did you send her the usual hothouse bouquet? Take her to Tradori’s? Book your suite at the Manhattan?”

“Whoa.” How did Mrs. Nash know about his suite at the Manhattan? “I’ve been completely up front with Emma.”

“Ha. The poor woman didn’t have a ghost of a chance. Her father only recently passing.”

Now that just plain wasn’t fair. Alex rose to his feet. “She had every chance.”

Mrs. Nash shook her head. “Alex, I love you dearly. You are like a son to me.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know your weaknesses.”

“I know my weaknesses, too.” And they certainly didn’t include lying to women in order to steal their property.

They might involve misleading a competitor to cinch a business deal, or lying to the world at large in order to merge two hotel chains. But those were completely separate issues. And defensible ones.

Not that he had to explain himself.

Of course he didn’t have to explain himself.

Unfortunately, something in her expression triggered a psychological remnant of his childhood. And he couldn’t seem to bring himself to disappoint her.

He made a split-second decision to bring her into the circle. “Emma knows why I’m marrying her.”

Mrs. Nash’s expression changed. “She knows it’s for her hotels?”

He nodded. “I offered her a financial bailout, and she took it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting.”

He stripped off his shirt, stepped out of his sandals to head across the deck.

Mrs. Nash followed on his heels. “A marriage of convenience, Mr. Garrison?”

“Yes, Mrs. Nash. A marriage of convenience.” It wasn’t like he was breaking the law.

“Well, we both know where that leads.”

“To profitability and an increase in our capital asset base?”

“To misery and a cold, lonely death.”

A stillness took over Alex’s body. He hooked his toes over the edge and gazed into the still, clear water. “I am not my father.”

“You are more like him than you care to admit.”

“I’m nothing like him.”

She clicked her teeth, and he could feel her shaking her head.

“I know what I’m doing, Mrs. Nash.”

“Due respect, Mr. Garrison. You haven’t a bloody clue.”

Yeah. That was respectful all right. Alex tamped down the urge to engage in the debate. He was out of patience, and he was out of time. He drew a strangled breath, tensed his calf muscles and dove into the pool.

Five

It was three minutes past eight by the time Alex found a parking spot and strode up the wide staircase into the DreamLodge headquarters lobby. The airy, open room was impressive-quiet, understated and classy. But then Clive Murdoch hadn’t built his empire on stupidity and poor taste. He was Alex’s number one competitor for good reason. The man wasn’t to be taken lightly.

Briefcase in hand, power suit freshly pressed, and his hair trimmed right to his collar, Alex scanned the floor directory next to a bank of elevators. The executive suite was on number thirty-eight.

He pressed a button and one of the doors immediately slid open.

The ride up was direct and smooth. And on the top floor, he emerged and introduced himself to the receptionist, hoping name recognition would get him in to see Clive Murdoch without an appointment.

“I’ll see if he’s free, Mr. Garrison.” The young woman smiled behind a discreet headset and punched a number on her phone.

“Alex?” The sound of another woman’s voice sent a ripple of warning up his spine.

He quickly blinked the surprise from his expression and turned to face Emma. Then he took a few steps forward to put some distance between them and the receptionist. “Emma,” he crooned. “Right on time, I see.”

“What are you-”

“I was worried you’d be late, sweetheart.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead, while his mind scrambled for a contingency plan.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“What are you doing here?” he returned. “And why aren’t you wearing your ring?” A good offense? It might work. He sure hadn’t come up with any better ideas in the past fifteen seconds.

“I have an appointment,” she said.

“So I heard,” he bluffed.

“Heard from who?”

He quickly grabbed an answer for that one. “The hotel business is a tight-knit community.”

She frowned. “It is not.”

“Yes, it is.” He frowned back at her, pretending he had a right to be annoyed. “I can’t believe you’d book a meeting with Murdoch without me.”

And, quite frankly, he couldn’t believe she’d agree to meet Murdoch on his own turf for a negotiation. Didn’t she understand the home court advantage?

“It’s still my company,” she said.

“And I’m a player in it. Where’s your ring?”

She curled her left hand and tucked it behind her. “We haven’t signed a thing.”

They’d talk about the ring later. He had a lot to say about the damn ring. “You said yes in front of five hundred people.”

Her complexion darkened a shade. “And we are definitely talking about that one later.”

He should hate it when she used that tone of voice. But he didn’t. It energized him instead of annoying him. It made him look forward to later.

“Fine,” he said, keeping his tone deliberately flat. “But for now we have a meeting.”

“I have a meeting.”

He gave her a cold smile. “Sweetheart, your last solo business meeting was yesterday.”

“Why, you-”

He cut her off with a quick kiss on her taut, tender lips. Then he drew back and dared her with his eyes, all the while raising his voice so the receptionist would hear. “Don’t worry about it. We can pick up the ring after lunch.”

“I’m going to kill you,” she muttered under her breath.

“Later,” he whispered. “After you give me hell for proposing to you.” Then he took her hand and turned to the friendly receptionist. “Is Mr. Murdoch ready to see us?”

Emma couldn’t believe Alex had crashed her business meeting. How had he found her? How had he even known to look for her? And didn’t he have his own business to run on a Monday morning?

She felt like a fool traipsing into Clive Murdoch’s office half a step behind him. She looked like a fool, too, if Clive’s expression was anything to go by. He’d called last week to say he’d been working on a deal with her father. He wondered if she’d be taking over from here on in.

She’d said, “absolutely.” She’d said she was at the helm, making decisions, running the company. And here Alex had cut her off at the knees.

“Clive,” Alex greeted brusquely, sticking out his hand.

“Alex.” Clive nodded, offering a guarded handshake.

He looked to Emma. “Ms. McKinley?”

“Soon to be Mrs. Garrison,” said Alex, a definite edge of aggression in his tone.

Emma shot him a glare. What did he think he was doing?

“Good news travels fast,” said Clive.

Alex pulled out a chair at the round meeting table, gesturing for Emma to sit in it.

She thought about rebuffing his offer, but his expression wasn’t one to mess with. So she took the chair. She’d set him straight on business protocol later.

“Yet,” said Alex, still standing, that same thread of steel in his tone. “You made an appointment with my fiancée anyway.”

“Alex,” Emma interrupted.

“I made the appointment last week,” said Clive. His shoulders were tense, his voice hard-edged.

“Things have changed since last week,” said Alex.

“Mr. Murdoch,” said Emma, trying to calm things down.

“Call me Clive,” said Clive.

“Don’t,” said Alex.

Emma stared at him in total shock. “Will you stop this?” Then she looked at Clive. “We’re here to listen.”

Alex’s hands closed over the back of one of the chairs. “We’re here to make a point.”

She glared at Alex. “You don’t even know-”

“McKinley assets are not for sale. Not now. Not ever. None of them.”

For sale? Clive hadn’t said anything about a sale.

“You haven’t even heard my offer,” Clive stated, the word sale obviously no surprise to him.

Emma stilled. How had Alex known they were talking about a sale? She hadn’t even known they were talking about a sale.

“We don’t need to hear your offer,” said Alex. Then he reached out a hand to Emma. “In fact, we don’t need to be here at all.”

Emma glanced back and forth between the two men as they stared each other down. What had she missed? What did Clive want to buy? Why wouldn’t Alex consider it?

“Can somebody please-”

“I’m your contact,” Alex informed Clive, tossing a business card on the table. “You think you have any more business with McKinley, you call me.”

Clive didn’t touch the card. “You walk out that door, the offer’s closed.”

Alex shrugged, and it occurred to Emma he might be negotiating. Was this how it was normally done? Did he expect Clive to follow them to the lobby and up the ante?

Clive smirked. “The offer was way above market.”

“It was chump change, and we both know it.”

Wow. Emma could never have been that gutsy. She did wish she knew what they were talking about, but it seemed to make the most sense to play along.

She took Alex’s hand, and they left the office.

“What now?” she asked as they waited for the elevator.

Alex glanced down at her. “Now, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “So, will he follow us?”

Alex looked behind them. “I doubt it.”

“But…”

“But what?”

The elevator door slid open.

“I thought he’d follow us out and up the offer.”

Alex gestured for her to precede him. “He didn’t make an offer.”