Catherine Mann - Acquired - The CEO's Small-Town Bride

Off to one side in the distance, small stucco houses like hers nestled into a community. On the other, a handful of mansions filled exclusive beach lots.

She’d heard Rafe bought a three-and-a-half-million-dollar condo on the exclusive side of town. How did he feel, finally standing inside Worth Industries and claiming it as his own?

A sentimental corner of her couldn’t help cheering for all he’d accomplished. He may have broken her heart, but she’d also loved him. She would let those softer feelings for the boy he’d been help control her temper through this meeting.

She knew he was aware of her entrance even though he didn’t turn, so she waited for his next move. And she had to admit, it was nice to have a second to study him without worrying about him picking up on the attraction she fought so hard to hide. His shoulders filled out the black suit, the fabric so obviously fine she could feel the softness from across the room. Everything from his engraved cuff links to his smooth leather shoes shouted elite, expensive.

And understated.

He might be showing off his wealth for all of Vista del Mar, but he was classy about it.

Finally, he extended an arm and waved her over. Those nerves in her stomach double-timed as she slid into place beside him. Her simple sandals looked so out of place next to imported leather on the Aubusson carpet. There’d been a time when they’d danced barefoot on the beach together.

A million years ago.

She cleared her throat and her mind. “I want to apologize for the way I acted at the Tennis Club. I shouldn’t have dumped tea in your lap. I would offer to pay for your dry cleaning, but the Rafe I remember wouldn’t let me pay for so much as a soda.”

Still, he didn’t look at her, just kept staring out over their hometown. “You’re apologizing for how you acted but not what you said?”

He wasn’t making this easy for her. Once upon a time, she would have just reached for him, threading her fingers through his tawny hair until he shook off his mood and turned toward her.

She tried again. “I’m sorry that I shouted at you in front of a roomful of people.”

“Interesting to note that you still haven’t taken back what you said, only the way and place you said it.”

Okay, so much for the dignified approach. Less than a minute together and he was already making her angry. “Why have you ignored me since you returned to town?”

“I didn’t think you would want to speak to me,” he said simply. “Isn’t that what you said the last time we spoke? Something like, ‘I’m going to get out of the car now and I do not want you to follow me. I’m going to call my grandmother for a ride. And I mean it. I don’t want to see you again.’”

That was exactly what she’d said. Verbatim. That he remembered after all this time, that she remembered, rocked her. Too much.

“I was an eighteen-year-old girl in the middle of a drama queen meltdown.” She’d issued ridiculous ultimatums out of fear, and also out of a certainty that he would follow her. She’d been wrong. “We’re both adults now.”

“You’re right.” Turning, he faced her. His features might look familiar but the calculating gleam in his blue eyes was new and unsettling. “You came here for a reason, now let’s get to it.”

She tipped her chin and refused to let him intimidate her. “I want to make it up to you for how I behaved. How about a home-cooked meal?”

His blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You are asking me to dinner?”

“For old time’s sake.” Because she needed to help her family. And because she couldn’t deny she needed some of that peace for herself when it came to how they’d left things between them after graduation. “An olive branch in the interest of declaring a truce.”

“At your place?”

“Seven o’clock at my house, yes.” Where she’d lived with Quentin Dobbs. No man other than relatives had set foot in her home since he died. She swallowed down a swell of emotion. “I’m not a five-star chef by any means, but I grill a great steak and my backyard atmosphere can’t be beat. For old time’s sake,” she repeated.

Impulsively, she thrust out her hand and then felt silly standing there while she waited for him to take it.

Or worse yet, waiting for him to reject it, reject her.

His hands slid from behind his back and enfolded hers in his. His fingers closed over where she wore her wedding band on her right hand these days, since she’d lost Quentin. Was it her imagination or did Rafe’s thumb press harder against the silver band?

She’d loved Quentin, deeply. Yes, that love had been different from what she and Rafe shared, different but still special. She missed Quentin and the simple life they’d built every single day.

So why did she ache to squeeze Rafe’s hand and tug him closer? Something flashed in his eyes, but skittered through so fast she didn’t have time to analyze it before it was gone.

The heat of his skin warmed her for an instant before he let go.

“I’ll see you at seven o’clock then.”

“Great.” She backed away, reaching behind her for the door. “We’ll finally have a chance to talk and catch up on everything.”

Her grip closed around the doorknob and she exhaled hard with relief. She’d made it through this encounter easier than she’d expected. Maybe talking to Rafe tonight wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

“Sarah?”

His voice stopped her dead and made her skin tingle with nerves. She glanced back over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“Skip the steak. I’d rather have a cheeseburger.”

His arrogant grin told her he knew full well the reference would bring reminders of that first night he’d climbed through her bedroom window, and other stolen moments of picnic meals and frantic make-out sessions. Rafe may not have spoken to her since he returned to Vista del Mar, but it was clear he hadn’t forgotten the past any more than she had. Fourteen years ago she’d trusted Rafe not to hurt her and he’d trampled all over her feelings and dreams.

This time, she wouldn’t be so naive.

She recognized the light in his eyes too well. The same blue-hot flame had blazed over her whenever he’d vowed he wanted nothing more than to bury himself heart-deep inside her. And though she felt the same passion coursing through her veins, she’d held back then, even when she’d loved him.

She would sure as hell hold back tonight.

Rafe leaned against his desk as Sarah made tracks out of his office. She may have invited him to her place for supper, but he suffered no delusions that she wished to rekindle their old flame.

Business instincts blared that she wanted to convince him to leave what remained of Worth Industries intact. And she would fail. She couldn’t succeed in diverting him from revenge now any more than she had in the past. But he was still curious just how far she would go to persuade him.

Sundress swishing around her slim legs, she angled sideways out the door being held open by Chase on his way in. His stepbrother nodded politely, then turned his attention toward Rafe. Chase didn’t even bother hiding his curiosity as an eyebrow shot up.

At least he waited until Sarah stepped into the elevator before speaking.

Turning back, Chase asked, “What’s she doing here? Sounded to me like she said her piece back at the restaurant yesterday.”

Rafe closed the office door again, the floral scent of Sarah lingering in his space. “Apparently not.”

“At least you managed to stay dry this time.” Chase dropped into a black leather chair by the sofa, sliding a portfolio onto the coffee table. “Does this mean the two of you are rekindling the old flame?”