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“Loud and clear indeed,” Genevieve agreed with a smirk. The only thing getting caught here was a greedy, devilish, gorgeous billionaire who needed to be taught a lesson. And she would be the teacher.
CHAPTER FOUR
Genevieve Summers. The name rolled through his mind and brought back fond memories. Brunette hair that shined when the sun touched it and eyes that held the beauty of the stars.
Tasting her, holding her, hell, touching her again was Heaven.
Back years ago, it tore his heart out to walk away from what they shared in the manner that he had. His father had grown ill and as the oldest, he had to step in and take over. Of course, that meant not following through with his plans with Genevieve of moving across the country with her and starting their own lives. He’d been set to propose, but the girl he was in love with wasn’t cut out for his world of rules. She’d been a free spirit that wanted to live life, not be confined into a world where everyone watched every move and judged every action.
So, he let her go. He’d been young and stupid, really, by letting others dictate his life instead of setting his own rules back then. Now no one dictated a damn thing to him.
Over the years he’d done his duty as a devoted son, went to college, learned the whiskey business and built his own corporate development company from the basement up before turning twenty-nine. No one would label him an entitled trust-fund baby. He worked long and hard for every cent in his bank accounts and managed to keep the family name as prestigious as his father would have liked.
Before the long hours behind a desk and years of business school, he’d made a personal vow to one day return to Pinegrove if only to see what became of ex.
He kept that promise, but he never imagined he would find the strong, independent beautiful brunette woman he had wrapped around him today. Recognition hit the second she slipped from her car and as he watched the whole debacle unfold with her pug, he fell all over again for the girl that stole his young heart. Gone were the glasses, but he smiled when he caught sight of the freckles she tried to conceal with powder and whatever else a woman used.
To him, she looked perfect in either way.
Arguing in the background lured him from his thoughts.
Whiskey pinched the bridge of his nose while the other board members discussed prices of building materials and bottom lines. Part of him wished he could switch off the large screen TV that linked him to his corporate offices back in London. But this particular project he held dear. It would affect a lot of people and he wanted to spearhead it. Pinegrove was a close-knit town of beauty and peace. But, make one wrong move and its people would make you toe the line until you gave answers. He needed to tread lightly no matter if his family was from here or not. Big changes didn’t come easy to a town this old and what he had instore for Morgan and Holdings would make a lot of good people nervous. Starting with the Summers and every other family who still had their businesses in the old building.
When this project for one of their Pinegrove holdings came across his desk, he took a personal interest. The first in over a year. Selfish as it might sound, deep down he hoped like hell it would somehow bring Genevieve back into his life.
Personal feelings aside, business was business. Emotions didn’t come into play when board members and stockholders held you accountable. Something he learned hard and fast at the knee of his father long before he stepped in as CEO.
“Gentlemen.” He stood from behind his desk and buttoned his jacket, considering his words. “There’s no need to argue and bicker. We have suitable architects under contract. I’ve delivered the last of the notices to the occupants. We begin within the week and wewillstay on budget. That I promise.” The words weighed on his heart more than he wanted to recognize.
“I still don’t see why we are bothering with such a small town in nowhere New York.”
Whiskey returned to rubbing the spot between his eyes. Four months of this and the conversation still revolved back to the same goddamn argument.
“We care because it’s part of Morgan and Holding, large or small. This town is growing and I don’t think I need to repeat the basic rule of thumb when it comes to making money and growth. We’re not fucking children here.” He tried to keep it civil but a man had his limits.
A feminine voice carried through the open door of the conference room, catching him off guard.
“I don’t care if he’s in a meeting, I’m not done telling him exactly what I think of his low-down, slimy, backstabbing moves. Now let me through.”
A whoosh of air burst through the room followed by a loud crunch of wood against stone.
Whiskey’s brows jacked up his forehead at the sight of Genevieve all fiery and lit up with a wave of anger he’d never seen in the woman before. She stood in all of her beauty in his doorway. Flip flops, Daisy Dukes and a different T-shirt that read: FUELED WITH FLOWER POWER.
Spunky and funny. God, he wanted to spread her out on his desk and lose a few hours wrapped in her and make them both forget about all this shit.
Dark strands of hair slipped from a ponytail he remembered as being neatly secured ten minutes ago. As if she ran all the way to Town Hall and up the three flights of stairs.
The fire in her eyes had his cock throbbing and his mouth watering for another taste of her. “Genevieve, it’s good to see you again. If you needed to see me, all you had to do was call. I would have stopped by. What can I do for you?” He kept it professional and no mention of just making her cum all over his fingers and hand less than thirty minutes ago.
The friendliness he’d seen shining in her eyes at her flower shop was nowhere in sight now. In its place was icy disdain. He couldn’t blame her.
She threw a disbelieving laugh his way before she turned her wrath toward the people on screen. “Assholes. How can you all sit up in your fancy offices half a world away and plan other people’s lives?”
Whiskey straightened his shoulders and waited. He didn’t remember her as a girl that held her opinion to herself. Glad to see she hadn’t changed. This ought to be good. These cold-hearted bastards didn’t care about anything but their bank accounts and he couldn’t remember the last time any of them cracked a smile or had their asses handed to them. Having a full-on emotional Genevieve Summers to deal with should prove to push someone’s buttons.
“Does it make you feel good when you add another zero to your bank accounts from the grief of others?”
Right on cue all twelve of them started fumbling with their pens and shifting in their seats under her heated glare.
