Chapter 2
~Daniel~
I’m leaning back in my leather office chair, twirling a pen around in my hand and staring blankly at a pile of paperwork on my glass-top desk. I’m supposed to be analyzing the development proposals in front of me. It’s unlikely I’ll approve any of them, but I still have to review each one. Company policy and all that. Since I took over as CEO from my dad three years ago, I’ve seen firsthand just how many scumbag developers want to worm their way into Harlson.
It’s the last thing I’m gonna allow to happen.
For one thing, it would kill my dad. It would also ruin the small town atmosphere. God knows, there aren’t a lot of those remaining. The big time retailers have moved into too many former quaint little towns and completely wrecked any sense of character that they’d once possessed.
My father, Alfred Alder, started Harlson. Our family owns most of the local businesses here. We’re all for welcoming newcomers, but not the city fat cats. No one’s going to usurp us. Alder Assets is the only big corporation in this town and that’s how it’ll always be. Damn city fuckers.
Just like that woman I met earlier today. Emma. I still can’t believe she drove away from me like that. She has no idea how much effort I was exerting to hold back with her. I’m not usually that restrained when I hit on a woman. If I want pussy, I get it. I barely need to make any effort to have a woman spreading her legs for me. I’m not even being cocky. It’s simple fact.
But I’d noticed Emma’s anxiety right away, so I’d held back. If I’d known things were going to end the way they had, I wouldn’t have bothered.
I don’t make a habit of hitting on women pulled over on the side of the road.
At first the whole thing had been completely innocent. I was just being a good citizen. I’d thought her car had broken down on the side of the road and I’d intended to help her out.
But then I’d seen her.
Holy shit. She was a definite ten. Absolutely gorgeous.
Mmm…and I’ve always had a thing for blondes. Not fake blonds. Natural blondes. Those big, expressive eyes of hers sent a jolt of desire through me. And her thighs should be outlawed. I’m a definite thigh man. Sure, she had a nice set of tits. They were so deliciously perky. But those thighs of hers in that skirt were what did it for me.
The thing that’d really drawn me in, above all else, was the strong submissive vibe I’d sensed from her. It was a major turn on. I’d love to dominate her. It looked like she needed it too. When I’d kissed her hand I’d seen just how responsive she was to that slightest touch. It was her noticeable tremble, the way her breath had caught in her throat.
I can’t believe she drove away from me. It was beyond rude. Maybe that kind of shit passes in the city, but in Harlson we try to maintain a certain level of cordiality.
I’m not sure that’s really what I’m mad about. She turned me down. That never happens to me. Never. She’s stuck in my fucking head now. I’ve been sitting here for the last hour, thinking about what went down and how it went down. I need to find out what her deal is.
I’m startled out of my thoughts by the sudden entrance of my assistant, Alison.
She’s my saving grace. The way the woman manages my schedule is a miracle in itself. In her late fifties, she’s been with the company for years. She was my dad’s assistant too. She knows Alder Assets inside and out. She always dresses the part and exudes a high level of professionalism at all times. She’s old school, through and through.
“Mr. Alder,” she greets me. I’ve told her so many times to just call me Dan, but she won’t.
“Alison,” I return, smiling and giving her a polite head nod.
“I’m giving you your fifteen-minute reminder for your meeting with Harlson Construction at 10:00am today, regarding the permit for the proposed bed and breakfast on the edge of town.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
She turns to leave, but that’s when something occurs to me.
“What do you know about an Emma Spencer?” I ask her. Today is the first I’ve heard of Emma. Usually, I get to know all newcomers, but she must have kept herself off the radar. The only reason I know she lives here and wasn’t just passing through is because of her reference to going into town for groceries. No one shops for groceries far from their home. She has to be local. Alison knows all the locals. To call her a busybody would be an understatement.
She smiles and I see a glint in her eye. I know what that means. She thinks I’m asking out of personal interest. All right, I am. But that’s for me to know, not other people. Word spreads like wildfire around this small town. It’s the last thing I need getting out. I like to keep my personal life as private as possible, especially since I’m such a recognizable public figure around here.
“She moved here about three months ago, I believe. She bought that old house on the edge of town. That fixer upper on Brook Road that struggled to sell for years. I’m surprised it’s even livable as she hasn’t called in any help to fix it up. Rumors are that she’s a recluse. Never leaves her house. No one’s ever seen her in town. I Googled her and it turns out she’s an author.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Oh, and she’s not married,” Alison adds, grinning, before making a quick exit.
I roll my eyes at her.
As she closes the door to my office behind her, I slump back against my chair.
Mmm…there’s much more to Miss Spencer than I’d realized. Very intriguing. There’s nothing I love more than a challenge. And it seems she’s going to be just that.