Synopsis
He lost her once. Is this their second chance?
Transforming a vision for Belle Cove Resorts into reality is a breakout move that could take Dakota Carson's image specialist company to the next level. But it means teaming up with the man who broke her heart. Soon enough, Dakota's overwhelming desire for the gorgeous entrepreneur reawakens. But giving in to passion could cost her way too much.
Years ago, Logan Montague walked away from everything, including the woman he loved. Now CEO of his family's international resort chain, he won't risk losing Dakota another time. With his matchmaking aunt's blessing, he and Dakota are united in business—and pleasure. And so Logan embarks on his scheme of seduction, sweeping Dakota away to an exotic Jamaican hideaway. With both their professional and personal futures on the line, can they learn to trust and love each other…again?
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
That old letch should've been grateful that all I dropped over his bald head was a tureen of minestrone. It should have been a brick!
Dakota Carson was still steaming about the previous evening's turn of events. If someone would have told her that her perfect day would end with her pouring a bowl of hot soup on a business colleague and threatening him with bodily harm, she would have thought them insane. But it occurred nonetheless.
Roger Thompson had leveraged their business dinner into a ploy to get her into bed. Dakota accepted the dinner meeting because he had something that she wanted—his connection to Amadeus Rothschild, a new designer who specialized in sheets that were elegant and pleasurable to the touch. The fact that he only used a design once made them unique. Since he was the elusive owner of a company called Sheet Music in New England, Dakota had no doubt that he would soon be a household name. The problem was that he only sold his sheets through Roger.
When her client's wife, Nancy Janson, had seen a set on display at Thompson's Textiles, she flipped. She wanted them for her St. Charles, Illinois, bed-and-breakfast, and nothing else would do. Since Roger was local, and Dakota had a good relationship with him, they discussed it over dinner. He promised to supply them for her project, but soon it became evident why an evening appointment was better suited for their discussion. The moment his intentions were clear, she turned him down flat. When Roger refused to take no for an answer, Dakota left money to cover her portion of the bill and bid him good-night. When she walked past him, Roger's arm ensnared her like a vise grip. His mistake.
"Release me," she had demanded.
"Wait, Dakota. Don't leave yet. We can come to an arrangement that will benefit both of us. I have what you want, and you have something I want." Roger had tried to reel her in.
"I don't think so," she had countered smoothly. "In fact, you either remove your hand from my arm right now, or I'll rip that toupee off your head, and then stomp on it like a Flamenco dancer."
He'd complied immediately, but continued to proposition her. That did it. Dakota's answer to his vile suggestions was to pour soup on his head. Roger's toupee cascaded off his dome, along with the soup. She'd chuckled. It had been a sight to see.
"We're done, Roger. Step through my office door again, and you'll regret it."
Her alarm blared into the silence. Stunned at the offending noise that ricocheted off the walls, Dakota almost bolted from her bed. The memory of Roger and his tumbling hairpiece was pushed aside. She had bigger problems.
Last night had caused a hiccup in her plans. Roger's store was a good source of upscale home goods, and he had lots of connections. Now she needed a plan B, and her colleague was now regaled to the Trouser Snake category of people that Dakota had severed all ties with. She knew he would never give up Rothschild's contact information. She was desperate to make her client happy, but was not about to play games, or to sleep her way into opportunities. She took her career very seriously, and if somebody didn't like it, that was their misfortune. That went for the few men she had dated, too.
When Dakota turned on her cell phone, her voice mail icon, email and text message notifications all dinged, buzzed and chirped respectively. Three were from Norma Jean Anderson.
"Now I know you can't possibly be so busy that you can't return my phone calls," Norma Jean said in one message. "It's obvious that you're avoiding m—"
Delete. Dakota felt no shame.
"Dakota Carson, I know your grandmother didn't raise you to—"
Delete. Again.
"Girl, if you don't call me, I'm coming to see you."
She pondered that one, then pressed delete.
Norma Jean and her husband, Heathcliffe, lived a few doors down from her grandparents' house in Chicago. Since the age of thirteen, Dakota considered Norma Jean the neighborhood mom. The woman knew everyone's name, brought homemade meals when people were sick and wouldn't hesitate to give a neighbor whatever she had. Norma Jean had become her rock when she desperately needed someone in her corner, and for that Dakota owed her a lifetime of gratitude. Norma Jean Anderson was an amazing humanitarian. But a horrible matchmaker.
Dakota loved Norma Jean, affectionately called Ms. Jeannie, to death, and would do anything for her, but the woman was driving her insane. She was more focused on Dakota's love life than Dakota was, and had been for years. Personal relationships did not work out for Dakota. An occasional date was one thing, but she wasn't getting serious—with anyone. She learned the hard way long ago that men came and went, but work was constant. She had governed her life by that simple observation, and she wasn't about to change now.
Logan and his cousin, Adrian Anderson, sat in his aunt's kitchen eating the most delicious cinnamon roll he had ever tasted. He took a sip of coffee. "Aunt Jeannie," he said slowly. "I appreciate everything you do for me, but I'm not going out with your bowling mate's sister's niece—no matter how many times you ask. Adrian already warned me about her, and as much as I love you, I'm not taking the bait."
Indignant, Norma Jean let out a frustrated breath and pinned her son, Adrian, with a withering look. "This is all your fault."
"Oh, no, you don't," Adrian replied between bites of his breakfast. "Fou are the one who doesn't know when to leave well enough alone. I told you two weeks ago that Logan wasn't interested in being set up. Apparently, you turned down your hearing aid."
"I don't wear a hearing aid," she snapped.
"Well, then you played deaf, because you didn't listen. He's been back in town three days, Mom. Let him get acclimated first before you whip out the little black book—or your love-broker encyclopedia."
"Watch it," she replied. Getting up from the table, she started clearing away the dishes. She tried to grab Logan's, but he batted her hand away. "Well, this is a pickle. It's already been arranged."
Logan regarded her with determined purpose. "Then unarrange it. Aunt Jeannie, I haven't even unpacked all my boxes yet, so I definitely don't have time to date. There's no way I'm wasting two hours of my evening trying to make small talk with a woman I've never met, and that I'm not remotely attracted to."
"How do you—" Norma Jean stopped and cut her eyes over to Adrian. "You showed him her picture?"
A wide grin shot across his face. "Yep."
"Adrian," she chided. "Logan deserves happiness, too. Milán is an incredible woman, and an even better daughter-in-law. She'll make a wonderful mother, too. That is, whenever you get around to—"
"We're not having this conversation again," Adrian interrupted.
"We wouldn't have to if you'd made good on the promise of giving me grandbabies."
"Mom, it's been two years, not ten. Cut us some slack. We're practicing as much as we can."
Logan burst out laughing, and patted his cousin on the back.
Norma Jean rolled her eyes. "Do I look amused?"
"Aunt Jeannie, it may not seem like it, but I'm perfectly capable of finding my own dates."
"You don't say? Is that why you're still single?"
"I haven't found the right girl yet," he countered.
"Hmph. Seems to me you had the possibility of the right girl, but you let her go."
His expression darkened. Like he needed a reminder of his ruined relationship with Dakota, or the tense circumstances surrounding why he had left in the first place. Finishing the last of his meal, Logan stood up and put his plate in the dishwasher. "As much as I love these family get-togethers, and reminiscing about subjects I'd prefer not to talk about, I really have to get going. I'm leaving for Jamaica tomorrow."
Norma Jean frowned. "How long will you be gone?"
"Just a few days."
"Have you seen Dakota yet?"
"No. At some point I plan to, but I'm not sure how well that'll go."
"Tread lightly," Norma Jean cautioned. "Time has a way of changing folks. Life happens, Logan. She's not the same girl you left behind years ago."
He looked at her. "What does that mean?"
Norma Jean shrugged her shoulders. "I'm just saying…things change…people change."
"Look, I know you mean well, but as far as renewing my friendship with Dakota…I don't even know if that's possible. The last few times I've been back haven't gone so well."
"What did you expect? You haven't exactly leveled with her, Logan."
"Aunt Jeannie, I know your heart's in the right place, but can you just let it go? Right now the water is still, and I'd like to keep it that way." He kissed Norma Jean's cheek. "Thanks for breakfast. It was…interesting."
Norma Jean handed him a plastic container with more cinnamon rolls. "Anytime, sweetie." She returned the kiss and tapped him on the chest with her index finger. "We're not done talking yet. Remember what I said, and there's always time to right a wrong, Logan. You and Dakota were the best of friends and I—"
Logan headed out of the kitchen. "You're beating a dead horse that ain't coming alive."
Adrian kissed his mother and then fell into step beside his cousin. "At least you didn't get fixed up with one."
"I heard that," his mother called out from behind them.
Logan and Adrian continued to laugh and compare notes as they walked out.
Retrieving his car keys from his pocket, Logan glanced at him. "Well, that was brutal. Remind me again how I got on her radar? I've only been back three days."
"Quit complaining. That was two days longer than my friends and I wagered on. I lost fifty bucks on you. Though I may still have a chance. The second bet is that you'll be off the market by Christmas. Which, by the way, is just three months away."
"Save your money. I have no intention of being caught up in Aunt Jeannie's machinations."
Adrian aimed the remote at his vehicle. "Yeah, that's what we all said."
Logan got in and started his car. He glanced at his phone. The ringer was turned down. He had missed several calls, one of them from his mother. There was no way Aunt Jeannie could have called her that fast. Turning the engine off, he decided to get it over with.
"Hey, Mom," he said when she picked up. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, honey," Beverly Montague replied with excitement. "How's Chicago? Are you settling in okay?"
"Yep. The condo is fine. I'm still unpacking, but I should be done by the weekend."
"I'm glad."
"How are things going without Dad? Are you lonely?"
"No, indeed," she said quickly. "Don't get me wrong. I love and miss my husband, but your father and Heath-cliffe are having a ball fishing. I get daily…sometimes more often…reports on what they're up to." She laughed. "It's great to hear them sounding like a bunch of young guys out on a weekend pass."
Logan chuckled. "Considering it's Dad we're talking about, that's shocking. He's not exactly the sit-back-and-relax type of guy."
"You'd be surprised. Ever since you took over at Belle Cove, he's only had to focus on running Montague International. He's got a solid executive team in place, so he's been learning to slow down. Personally, I think retirement is the best thing for him, but I know he'll never let go one hundred percent. Still, your taking over the resorts has been a tremendous help, honey. I know it wasn't easy, but you have exceeded our expectations. You've fit in wonderfully, and made solid contributions to the company since you started. I'm so proud of you, Logan. We both are."
He felt a surge of gratification. "Thanks, Mom. That means a lot to me. So what are you doing while they're gone?" he said, changing the subject. "Something tells me you're not at home crocheting."
"Heavens, no," Beverly said quickly. "The ladies and I have been having a fun time with our charity projects…and a few excursions."
The way she said it tipped Logan off that his mother was indeed making good use of his father's being away. He was not worried, though—his parents loved each other and had for over thirty-five years. As for his aunt and uncle, they were the most solid couple he knew, next to his parents.
"Do I even want to know the details?" he joked.
"Uh, no. That way, if your dad asks you for the particulars, you can answer him honestly."
Logan let out a robust laugh. "Gotcha."
"Enough about me. What's this I hear about you blowing off a date your aunt set up for you?"
The smile slid right off his face. Apparently, Aunt Jean-nie had made the rounds. His mother had heard about the potential date and promptly sided with her sister-in-law. Normally, his uncle Heathcliffe would temper his aunt's plotting, but since he and his father were silver-salmon fishing in Alaska, he was on his own.
"Mom, now isn't the best time to worry about my love life. I'm in the middle of some transitional things at Belle Cove, and that has to be my primary focus."
In addition to the corporation, the Montagues owned three resorts in Ocho Rios, Jamaica, Sanibel Island, Florida, and St. Simon's Island, Georgia. When he took over as CEO of the resorts months before, Logan's focus was to increase their bottom line, and to position the business for the future to ensure that Belle Resorts stayed competitive. Eventually, Logan realized that to accomplish the goals he had set for himself and the company, he would need to take a different approach. He would need to go outside the confines of the company to get the expertise needed in order to successfully effect a change.
"Are you listening to me?"
"Huh?" Logan realized he'd missed something his mother had said. "I'm sorry, Mom, what did you say?"
"I said, I know you're finding your way at Montague, but try not to lose sight of the things in life that really matter, honey. Work is constant, and God willing, will always be there. Your personal life can pass you by in the blink of an eye if you're not careful."
"Well, that's an about-face. I seem to recall years ago you both saying that there was nothing more important than business, and it was my personal life that had to take a backseat."
"Logan, that's the way it had to be at that time. I know you still blame us for what happened with Dakota, and I'm truly sorry for that. I just assumed that you'd be able to fix everything when you came home."
"That's not how it worked out, is it?" Logan said bitterly.
"No. No, it's not. And your father and I are saddened by it, but at that time, Logan, it was extremely important for you to learn the family business. That was the priority then, but it doesn't have to be now. You'll find happiness, sweetheart. I know it. Which is why you should give Jeannie a chance to—"
"Not happening, Mom. Now isn't the time for me to be navigating Aunt Jeannie's blind-date circuit. I've still got a lot of work to do."
"Okay, but you need to find a balance between the two," she warned. "Oh, Jeannie also mentioned you'd hired Dakota to give the place a facelift. How's she doing? I heard her new company is doing well, and that she's sure to be a big help revitalizing Belle Cove. I can't wait to see the finished product. I really miss her. It's a shame you two weren't able to reconnect over the years, but maybe now you'll be able to catch up."
"I haven't hired her yet. I'm planning to discuss it with her soon. Hey, I've got to run, but I'll call you later. I love you."
"Love you, too, Logan. And don't think I don't know a redirect when I see one," she said sweetly.
He hung up the phone and leaned back in his seat. Logan was not good at admitting that he needed help of any kind, but there was more at stake here than just his pride. That was battered and bruised enough, thanks to the choices he had made over the years. Still, coming back to Chicago after such a long absence was bittersweet. It was great being in close proximity to his family again, but that wasn't the main reason he decided to come back.
"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.
