High Stakes Read online

“At the moment, I’m trying to figure out how much damage you’ve done.”

  He continued toward her, imposing in his best man tux. “What are you talking about? What damage?”

  As he grew closer, she was glad to be wearing three-inch heels.

  Drawing herself up, refusing to be intimidated, she folded her arms across her chest and nodded at the wine rack. “Take a look at that.”

  Before focusing on the wine rack, Derek’s gaze stopped for a moment on the empty doorway, a puzzled frown forming on his face. Then he moved on. “I don’t see any damage.”

  The muscles in the back of her neck tensed, and her voice went up an octave. “Of course you don’t. Because you have no clue what we’re doing here.”

  “I know exactly what we’re doing here. We’re renovating my restaurant.”

  Candice stepped closer to the wine rack, gesturing to the base with an open hand. “Are you trying to waste money?”

  “I’m trying to save money.”

  “False economy.”

  Derek’s full mouth curved up in a cynical grin. “How many millions do you suppose have been wasted using that logic?”

  “You have trust issues, you know that?”

  “I trust people.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “As long as they’re within my sight.”

  Candice pointed at him and then pointed to her chest. “You lied to me, remember?”

  “And you threatened to waste my money.”

  “Because you’d told us you were Derek Reeves—”

  “I am Derek Reeves.”

  “Being Derek Reeves is quite different than being Derek Reeves-DuCarter.”

  “You never fessed up to being Candice Hammond, either.”

  Candice had to admit, it was odd they’d gone two weeks without realizing each other’s identity. She’d heard about the Reeves-DuCarters all her life, had known they were in competition with her father, had even met Derek’s father at a party or two. Still, she hadn’t put it together.

  “I never lied about who I was,” she said.

  “No,” Derek agreed. “It was Tyler that kept that little tidbit to himself.”

  “So pick on your brother, and leave me alone.”

  “I can’t leave you alone.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re mad enough to waste my money.”

  “I’m also professional enough to fix your mistakes.”

  Derek shook his head, coughing out a cold laugh.

  Candice shimmied into a crouch position, pointing to the base of the wine rack to prove her point. “You know the marble top’s precut?”

  He crouched beside her. “So?”

  “So, exhibit A, you had them build the base two feet off. That’s false economy, because we’re going to have to rip it out and start over again.”

  “That’s faulty logic. Because I just moved the wine rack. I didn’t change the dimensions.”

  “If you’d bothered to read the plans, you’d know we have to recess it into the wall.”

  “I did bother to read the plans. They told me you wanted to rebuild an entire wall for the sake of two feet.”

  She raised her eyebrows. There was a master plan at work here. Details mattered. Something Derek obviously didn’t grasp. “Your point is?”

  He straightened and held out his hand. “You’re scary, you know that?”

  She ignored his unspoken offer. But halfway up, her toe caught on the hem of her dress and she stumbled. He caught her arm to steady her.

  The feel of his calluses against her skin sent an instant shock wave through her body. She gritted her teeth against the sensation. “You’re the scary one.” What with his drive-by style of executive interference, and…

  She shook off his hand.

  “Because I catch you when you fall?” His deep voice rumbled close to her ear.

  She took a quick step away from him, remembering the last time he’d touched her, spoken to her in that vibrating, intimate tone that made her blood dance. It was three months ago, on that silly carnival ride, the Tunnel of Love. It was the day she found out he was a fraud. The day they’d found out Tyler was spying on Jenna.

  She shook off the memory, rubbing his touch away from her bare arm. “Do you want a five-star restaurant or a diner?”

  “Oh, definitely a diner,” he drawled, cocking his head sideways.

  “Well, you’re well on your way.”

  “You are so melodramatic.”

  “You are so naive.”

  His eyes widened at that one.

  She began counting off on her fingertips. “We have an artist on retainer. We’ve consulted on the marble pattern. We’ve already bought paintings for the recessed wall. The lines on the marble will flow perfectly toward the pillars, emphasize the mini atrium and the windows—”

  “You may have a heady, artistic vision, but I have an obligation to the other shareholders.”

  “To ruin the renovation?”

  “To make sure Reeves-DuCarter worldwide share prices don’t plummet when the financial markets hear how much you’re spending on a wine rack.”

  “It’s the focal point of the entire room—”

  “Hey, Derek.”

  Candice clamped her mouth shut and drew back at the sound of Tyler Reeves’s voice.

  “There you are,” said Derek. “I thought you’d died in the hallway.”

  “Can I borrow your cell phone?” asked Tyler.

  Candice glanced from man to man. Both were tall and broad shouldered, with short dark hair and those startling blue eyes. Tyler was slightly slimmer, and he always looked a whole lot happier.

  “Did the reception move up here?” she asked.

  It was one thing for her to duck out on Erin and Striker. She was just another wedding guest. But Derek and Tyler were in their brother’s wedding party.

  “I just need to check on something,” said Tyler, holding out his hand for the phone.

  Derek looked confused, but he reached into the pocket of his tux jacket. “Yeah…Sure…”

  “Thanks,” Tyler nodded, taking Derek’s phone and heading back out the door.

  “No problem,” said Derek.

  Candice wondered why Tyler hadn’t used a house phone downstairs. There had to be a hundred of them.

  While she puzzled over his presence, he paused in the doorway. Then turned back to face them, tapping the phone against the bottom of his chin. His expression shifted from affable to stern.

  “You two are upsetting my wife,” he said.

  “Upsetting Jenna?” asked Candice, instantly worried. Jenna had been fine when she’d left her ten minutes ago. It couldn’t be that important to her that Candice get a date.

  Tyler reached for the two doors. “And I’ve decided you need some time alone together to work things out.” He quickly pulled the doors shut and clicked the dead bolt into place.

  “What the hell?” Derek was at the doors in three long strides. “Tyler? My phone!”

  “Jenna suggested a time-out,” came Tyler’s muffled voice from the other side of the solid oak.

  “Time-out from what?” called Derek.

  “Like in kindergarten. You two kids see about settling your differences before the crew shows up on Monday.”

  2

  SETTLE THEIR DIFFERENCES? Candice darted a glance at Derek’s rock-hard jaw and narrowed eyes. “What does he mean Monday?”

  Derek’s lips thinned, but he didn’t answer.

  She quickly turned her attention to the dead bolt. It was keyed from both sides, and she didn’t have a key.

  Tyler had locked them in the restaurant.

  “Tyler?” she asked hopefully, moving up against the oak, testing the knob. “Uh, Tyler?”

  No reply.

  Derek let out an exasperated curse. “I don’t think he’s out there.”

  “He’ll be back,” she said, nodding confidently, stepping back and gazing up at the oversized doors. “This has to be a joke.
”

  “I didn’t hear Tyler laughing.”

  “Jenna won’t let him leave us here.”

  “What makes you think he’ll tell Jenna?”

  “Well…Because…” Candice hated to admit it, but that was a good question.

  Brushing past her, Derek tested the knob, then he rattled the doors. “I sincerely doubt he’ll tell her.”

  “She’s his wife. Isn’t there something in the wedding vows about honesty?”

  Derek stepped back beside her to survey the doors. He let out a hard sigh, shaking his head in pity, voice dropping to that intimate timbre. “Candy, Candy, Candy—”

  “I asked you not to call me that.”

  “Tyler thinks he’s saving Jenna.”

  “Well, that would be your fault.”

  Derek held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “How is it my fault?”

  “Jenna’s frustrated, because you keep picking fights, undermining my instructions—”

  “I do have veto power.”

  “Over the stain color? The wainscoting? The positioning of the wine rack?” If Derek would just let her do her job, they wouldn’t be in this fix. She was really quite easy to get along with.

  “Over any little thing I want,” he said.

  “You have taken things way beyond the spirit of the contract.”

  “Your threatening to bankrupt me takes things beyond the spirit of the contract.”

  “I did not threaten bankrupting you.” Candice folded her arms across her chest. “I am a professional.”

  He gave a dry chuckle. “You said, and I quote, ‘I have a contract for three-point-five million of your dollars, and I intend to spend every cent.’”

  Candice shifted uncomfortably. “I was upset.” It hadn’t been the most professional moment of her career. But, Derek did that to her.

  He ran his fingers around the seams of the doors. “The true measure of a professional isn’t what she does when things are going well.”

  “You don’t think you and Tyler lying to us, conspiring against us, hiding your identities amounts to extraordinary circumstances.”

  “Tyler was working undercover.”

  “Tyler was also sleeping with Jenna.”

  “She seems to have forgiven him.”

  “He deserved to be forgiven.”

  Derek stared at her in silence for a moment. “Unlike me.”

  “You’re still a problem, Derek.”

  “We’re still locked in a restaurant, Candy.”

  “It’s Candice.”

  He grinned.

  “Okay, fine. You’re right. Let’s table it for now.”

  He nodded in agreement. “We can always pick up the fight after we’re free.”

  She nodded in return. “Deal. So, did you bring your master key?”

  “Won’t fit this lock.”

  “It’s a master key.”

  “The door and the lock are old. And unique. We haven’t locked it in years.”

  Candice eyed the carved oak slabs. “You think you could break it down?”

  “It’s solid oak. Besides, isn’t it pivotal to the flow of the room or something?”

  “True.” It was a feature she’d planned to use. They’d refinish it, replace the brass. Maybe change the lock in case this kind of thing ever happened again.

  It would be a shame to break it. But she was starting to feel claustrophobic. Not that the room was small. In fact, it was huge. It was just that Derek took up so darn much of it.

  Suddenly, inspiration hit. The kitchen. She headed across the dining room. “There’s a door through the kitchen.”

  “Blocked by the new refrigeration unit,” Derek called after her.

  “We should at least check it out.”

  “Waste of time,” he said, but he followed.

  “Pessimist,” she countered.

  “Realist,” he corrected.

  “Cynic.” She stopped in front of the crated refrigeration unit. It was huge. She suspected even former linebacker Derek wouldn’t be able to budge this thing.

  “Jenna will be here soon,” Candice said with more confidence than she felt.

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m sure she’ll notice we’re missing.”

  “She’s probably got her mind on her Tyler right now. I hear weddings make women feel romantic.”

  Candice had to admit, Derek had a point. For some women. “Not me.”

  “Why does that not surprise me?”

  Candice lined her hands up against the rough wooden crate and pushed as hard as she could. “I am not staying in here until Monday. I have things to do, places to go.” She had the library redecorating proposal to finish this weekend. The deadline was Wednesday and there were still a hundred details to check.

  “Are you hinting that I don’t?”

  “Well you’re not acting like it.” She pushed harder. For a big-time international conglomerate executive, he seemed pretty blasé about losing a huge chunk of his time.

  “Candy—”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  Derek leaned back against a butcher’s block. “It weighs a ton.”

  She glared at him as she peeled off her high heels. “Wimp.”

  He straightened and opened one of the drawers under the counter, pawing through the contents. “I’m speaking literally. It weighs two thousand pounds. Sometimes you have to accept defeat.”

  “How’d you ever get to be a millionaire with an attitude like that?” She turned her back on the crate and tried pushing it butt first.

  “How do you manage to keep clients with an attitude like yours?”

  “I’m an extremely reasonable person.”

  “You’re trying to push a two thousand pound refrigeration unit in your stocking feet.”

  She clamped her jaw on a small smile and stopped pushing. “That’s not unreasonable.”

  He held up a carving knife, flexing the blade. “You weigh what, a hundred? It defies at least one law of physics.”

  She eyed the sharp edge. “Have I annoyed you that badly?”

  He frowned and tossed the knife back into the drawer. “None of these will work on countersunk screws. We may be stuck.”

  “How stuck?”

  “Real stuck.”

  “As in you and me? All night long?”

  He shot her a look that sizzled right down to her toes. “Candy—”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Don’t leave yourself wide-open like that.”

  Raw energy pulsed between them for a long second. Candice felt her skin prickle and her heart rate speed up. She was suddenly short of breath.

  “Derek?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We have got to get out of here.”

  NOW THAT WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT. Never mind the fact that Derek had piles of work waiting on his desk, or the fact that Ray Yamamoto was about to have a cell phone conversation with Tyler, Derek and Candice were inches short of combusting at the best of times. Leave them alone for thirty-six hours and anything could happen.

  She was drop-dead gorgeous in that tight purple dress. Despite himself, it wasn’t the first time he’d felt an attraction to her. She was smart. And she was feisty. And she made him stop and think, and feel, and want….

  Spending the night alone together was foolish at best, suicidal at worst.

  “I’ll go look for some tools,” he said, determined to exhaust every possibility before giving in.

  “Tools?” She stepped back from the crate, her stocking-covered feet slipping against the tiled kitchen floor.

  “Maybe we can take the door off the hinges,” he elaborated.

  Her green eyes brightened in surprise. “That’s a good idea.”

  “A compliment, Candy?”

  She frowned again at the nickname, but didn’t correct him this time. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  Derek chuckled as he headed back into the dining room. Candy was definitely a misnomer, given he
r tart personality. But he got a kick out of the way the name made her bristle.

  He glanced around the dining room. Plywood, two-by-fours and sheets of foam insulation were stacked against the walls. The floor was littered with sawdust and shavings. And the dining tables were clustered in one corner, protected by a canvas tarpaulin.

  The carpenters were half done, the plumbers had moved in last week, and the electricians had cut holes in everything that didn’t move.

  Although it looked like the tools had been cleaned up for the weekend, Derek was hoping somebody had left something behind. He headed toward the new bank of windows overlooking the hotel boardwalk and the marina on Lake Washington. He’d definitely give Jenna and Candice points for discovering the big arched window openings. The view alone was going to increase the Lighthouse’s customer base.

  He peeked under a couple of tarps and moved some plywood, hoping for an air ratchet or a stray Phillips head screwdriver. He found nothing. The tradesmen were obviously neat and well organized.

  “Any luck?” asked Candice from the kitchen doorway. She’d left her shoes behind.

  He wasn’t sure which was worse, the way her sleek little calves had curved down toward the skinny straps and spiky heels, or her sexy stocking-clad feet. The strapless dress revealed her smooth shoulders, and it was tight enough to prove that, despite the hard edge to her arguments, she had a body that was soft in all the right places.

  Her blond hair was done up in swirls and curls, but the long evening was beginning to show on it. Wisps had worked their way free to tickle her temples and the base of her neck. She oozed tousled sensuality, and he had to drag his attention away.

  “Nothing so far,” he said.

  She began hunting from the other end of the room. “Why would Tyler do something this drastic?”

  “He’s protecting Jenna.” Derek was trying to be charitable toward his brother, but he had to admit it was tough to keep from plotting his demise.

  “He doesn’t need to protect Jenna from me. I’m her partner, her friend. I was her maid of honor for goodness’ sake.”

  He lifted the last tarp, checking a makeshift construction table underneath. Sawdust, a measuring tape, a plumb line and a carpenter’s pencil. Nothing of any value to their current plight. “It’s your relationship with me that’s the problem.”

  Candice stepped carefully around a couple of saw-horses. “I don’t have a relationship with you.”