Sweet Fortune (16 page)

His hold on Jessie Benedict, however, was still far too tenuous.

He stared at the scarlet lily and remembered the expression on Jessie's face when she had climaxed in his arms.

E
ric Jerkface did not win first place at the science fair. When the award was handed out it went to a grinning Elizabeth benedict. Her father was standing proudly beside her when the film crew took the shots for the evening news. Jessie was so excited she could hardly contain herself. Constance, looking sophisticated in a white suit that clung to every full curve, smiled with delight.

“Are you going to tell me how you pulled off this little miracle?” Constance murmured in Jessie's ear under cover of a round of applause. “I can't believe you got Vincent here. He made that business down in Portland sound more important than the Second Coming.”

“Don't thank me, Connie. We owe this one to Hatch.”

“He did it for you, didn't he?” Constance slid her a speculative glance.

“Who? Hatch? Umm, yes. I believe he did.”

“You don't sound overly thrilled. It was a lovely gesture, Jessie.”

“The thing is, Connie, men like Hatch don't make lovely gestures unless there's a price tag attached.”

“Such cynicism is unbecoming in a young woman, my dear. It's only us tough old broads who get to indulge in that kind of thing.”

“What do I get to indulge in?” Jessie asked.

“Safe sex, if you're lucky. And if you would stop being so damn picky. Your mother's starting to worry about you, you know. Lilian says she did not raise you to go into a convent.”

Jessie felt herself turning a vivid shade of red as memories of the previous night on Mrs. Valentine's sofa burned through her mind again. “For heaven's sake, Connie.”

“Well, well, well.” Constance gave her a warm, approving glance. “Congratulations. I assume we have Hatch to thank for that blush too?”

Jessie fought for composure. “As I said, Connie, when men like Hatch make lovely gestures, there's usually a price tag attached.”

“Take some advice from a tough old broad. Pay the price. By the way, speaking of the cost of doing business these days, I know this isn't exactly the time or place to ask, but have you had a chance to talk to Vincent about another little loan for ExCellent Designs?”

Jessie groaned silently. “No, not really. I've been a little busy lately, Connie. I'll say something to him as soon as I get a chance.”

“Thanks.” Constance smiled at her in gratitude. “Lilian and I would approach him ourselves, but those kinds of conversations always turn into screaming matches between the three of us. You know your father when it comes to money. He won't give it out unless there are strings attached. He likes to control people that way. You're the only one who seems to be able to talk him into being reasonable on the subject.”

“Only because I go on screaming longer than you or Lilian,” Jessie pointed out morosely.

The film crew was hovering over Elizabeth as she did her best to explain her chemical analysis of a toxic-waste dump to a reporter who wanted it summed up in a thirty-second sound bite. Jessie rushed forward as soon as the reporter was finished and hugged her sister tightly.

“I knew you'd do it, kid. You were fabulous. Wasn't she, Dad?”

“Damn good job, Lizzie.” Vincent gazed down on his younger daughter with genuine paternal pride. “I can't say I'm surprised, though. You are one smart little cookie, aren't you? I'll bet it comes from my side of the family.”

Elizabeth turned pink and her grin grew wider. “I knew you'd be here today, Dad. Mom said you might not be able to make it at the last minute, but I knew you'd be here.”

Constance Benedict gave her daughter a hug and then stood on tiptoe to brush her ex-husband's cheek with a quick, affectionate kiss. “Thanks for coming, Vince,” she murmured.

Vincent caught Jessie's eye. “Wouldn't have missed it,” he said heartily. Jessie gave him a cool smile in return and turned back to congratulate her sister again.

Fifteen minutes after the conclusion of the awards ceremony, Elizabeth scurried off to admire a friend's project and Constance stopped to chat with an acquaintance. Vincent came up beside Jessie, who was watching a small robot buzz around a tabletop.

“Still mad at me?” he asked, his eyes on the robot.

“Let's not talk about it, okay? You're here. That's the bottom line, as they say in the business world.”

Vincent exhaled heavily. “I'm sorry, Jessie. I wanted to be here. I'd planned on it. You know that. It was just that we ran into problems down in Portland.”

“I know, Dad. Forget it. Like I said, you're here.”

“Only because you sicced Hatch on me.”

“I didn't sic him on you. He took it upon himself to make you show today.”

“Hell, you got what you wanted. I can understand why you're a little upset with me, but why don't you sound more thrilled with Hatch?”

Jessie watched the robot roll to the edge of the table and halt as if by magic. “Probably because I know how his mind works. He'll figure I owe him for this.”

“Maybe you do. There's a price tag attached to everything in this world.” Vincent followed her gaze as she watched the robot make a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn and scoot to the other side of the table. “Tell me the truth, Jessie. How do you really feel about the man?”

“What have my feelings got to do with it? All you care about is marrying me off to him so you can keep the company in the family and watch Hatch take it big-time, right? Don't go all paternal and concerned on me now, Dad. We know each other too well for that kind of nonsense.”

“Goddammit, you may not believe this, but I want you to be happy, Jessie. The thing is, I think you and Hatch can make a go of it. There's something about the two of you. When you're in the same room together I can almost see the sparks.”

“That's probably just the two of us sharpening our knives for battle.”

“Come on, Jessie. This is your old man, remember? I know you well enough to be sure you aren't exactly indifferent to Hatch. I'll never forget the day he fired you. You came out of that office looking shell-shocked, like you'd just done ten rounds with a lion.”

“Shark,” Jessie corrected. “And it wasn't that big a deal. I've been fired before, Dad.”

“Hell, I know that. You've made a career out of getting fired. But somehow in the past you've always come out of it looking as if you were the one who had fired your boss, instead of vice versa. This was the first time I'd ever seen you look like you'd actually lost a battle. That's when I knew for sure it could work between you and Hatch.”

Jessie gritted her teeth. “You're not exactly the world's leading authority on what it takes to create a successful long-term relationship, Dad.”

“You don't have to spell it out. I know damn well I haven't been a good role model in the husband-and-father department. Who knows how I would have turned out if Lilian or Connie had been more like you? They both gave up on me, you know. Lost patience somewhere along the line. But you, you're a fighter. You keep after what you want. And you've got Hatch while he's still young. You can work on him, can't you?”

“Young? The man's thirty-seven years old.”

“Prime of life. I'll tell you something, Jessie. From where I stand these days, thirty-seven looks damn young. And he's got the guts and the brains it takes to make Benedict Fasteners very, very big.”

“What makes you so sure he's got what it takes?”

Vincent grinned. “Partly my own instincts and partly his track record.”

“I figure the instinct part is based on the fact that he's a lot like you.”

“Now, Jessie, that's not true. Fact is, our management styles are damn different. Hatch has got all kinds of ideas for the company I'd never have approved if he hadn't talked me into them. He's got what they like to call
vision
, if you know what I mean.”

“Vision?”

“Yeah, you know. He's aware of new management stuff like concurrent engineering and design. He knows how to deal with foreign markets. He thinks big. Me, I'm a more basic kind of guy. Hatch says I get bogged down in the details, and he's right. Takes vision to pull a company into the big time.”

Jessie gave him a speculative glance. “So what makes his track record so impressive?”

“Well, for one thing, he's come up the hard way. No one ever gave him a handout. He's tough. A real fighter. The kind of guy you like to have at your back in a barroom brawl, if you know what I mean. Should have seen what he did to a company called Patterson-Finley a few years back.”

Jessie got an odd sensation in the pit of her stomach, although she had never heard of Patterson-Finley. “What, exactly, did he do to it?”

“He was a consultant to one of its smaller rivals. Engineered a takeover bid for them designed to gain controlling interest in Patterson-Finley. It was brilliantly handled. Patterson-Finley never knew what hit 'em. Put up one hell of a fight, naturally, but Hatch sliced 'em into bloody ribbons. When it was all over, Patterson-Finley damned near ceased to exist. It was a wholly owned subsidiary of the smaller firm.”

“I think I know why people call him a shark.”

“Damn right,” Benedict said proudly.

“Tell me, Dad. If you had it to do over again, would you have allowed some woman to work a few changes on you back when you were thirty-seven?”

“Who knows?” Vincent's eyes rested on Elizabeth's brown head and his expression softened slightly. “Sometimes I think maybe I missed some of the important stuff with you.”

“Ah, well, I wouldn't waste too much time worrying about it, if I were you. After all, it couldn't be helped, could it?” Jessie smiled sweetly. “You had a business to run.”

“Better watch it, Jessie,” Vincent retorted. “Men don't take kindly to sharp-tongued females. You're liable to end up an old maid if you aren't careful.”

“That's a thought.” Jessie deliberately widened her eyes in innocent inquiry. “Think I can scare Hatch off with my sharp tongue?”

“No, but you might piss him off. And that, my darling daughter, you might seriously regret. Say, are you sure that all this interest in ecology isn't going to turn Elizabeth into one of those damn radical tree-huggers?”

“Dad, I've got news for you. We're relying on tree-huggers like Elizabeth to save the world.”

*  *  *

When the downstairs door buzzer sounded at one o'clock that morning, Jessie came awake with a start. She sat blinking in the darkness for a moment, orienting herself. The buzzer screeched again and she pushed back the covers.

Barefoot, she padded out of the bedroom and into the living room. “Who is it?” she asked, pressing the intercom button.

“Jessie, it's after midnight. Who the hell do you think it is?”

“Hatch. What on earth are you doing here at this hour?”

“You know damn well what I'm doing here. Let me in. It's cold out here and I'm likely to get mugged any minute.”

Jessie tried to think clearly, failed, and ended up pushing the release button. Then she rushed back into the bedroom to grab a robe.

She was running a brush through her short hair when the doorbell chimed. Aware of a dangerous sense of anticipation mingled with a curious dread, she went to answer it.

Hatch was standing in the hall, looking as if he'd had a long day followed by an even longer drive. He was in his shirtsleeves and he was carrying his jacket and a bulging briefcase. His eyes gleamed at the sight of her in her robe and slippers.

“So how did we do at the science fair?” he asked as Jessie stood staring up at him.

She forgot her trepidation entirely and gave him a glowing smile. “We won. Elizabeth was thrilled. Dad was thrilled. Connie was thrilled. I was thrilled. Everyone was thrilled. Reporters came and they even took film of Elizabeth and Dad for the evening news. I saw it at five-thirty. It was wonderful. Elizabeth looked so happy standing there with her father beside her as she accepted the award. You made her day.”

“Good. Glad it all worked out okay.”

“Okay? It was much better than
okay
. It was wonderful.” Without stopping to think, Jessie threw herself impulsively against Hatch, wrapped her arms around him, and brushed her mouth lightly over his. “Thank you. We owe it all to you.”

“You're welcome.” Hatch dropped the suitcase at his feet and clamped his hands around Jessie's waist. His palms slid warmly up her back, holding her tightly to him while he took advantage of the situation to deepen the kiss.

Jessie told herself she should probably struggle. She did not want Hatch getting the idea that he could show up on her doorstep at any time of the day or night and expect such a warm welcome. But somehow she could not bring herself to fight him off tonight. His mouth felt too good on hers, deliberate and sure, with a controlled eroticism that set her nerves tingling. He wanted her and, heaven help her, she wanted him.

It was Hatch who broke off the kiss. “I'd better get in out of the hall before one of your neighbors decides to see what's happening.” He released her with obvious reluctance in order to pick up the briefcase and move on into the room.

Jessie stepped back, quashing the tide of sensual longing that he had elicited with his kiss. She searched frantically for something appropriate to say. She just knew he had read far too much into that greeting at the door. He was already making himself at home, hanging his jacket in the closet and stowing the briefcase on the floor beneath it. When he sat down on the couch and started to take off his shoes, she panicked.

Out of hand
, she thought. Things were definitely getting out of hand. Give Hatch an inch and he clearly felt he could take a mile. And she had given him a great deal more than an inch, she reminded herself.

“How did things go in Portland?” she managed to ask politely while she clutched the lapels of her robe and wondered what to do next.

Hatch gave her a hooded glance as he unlaced his other shoe. “Under control again. We're back on schedule.”

“Oh. Good.” She glanced over her shoulder into the kitchen. “Uh, did you want a cup of coffee or anything?”

“Nope. All I want is bed. It's a four-hour drive down to Portland. I left at four this morning. Spent the whole day until nine o'clock this evening chewing on everyone involved in that project and then I got into my car and drove four hours to get back here.” He stood up and started toward her, unbuttoning his shirt en route. “I'm beat.”