Clinton Steele’s reputation preceded him, and from all appearances he confirmed Terri’s image—from the expensive tailor-made suit to the formidable persona. But maybe it was those eyes. They seemed to have a way of mesmerizing you, she thought, feeling herself pulled into the bottomless inky pools that seemed to dance with dangerous lights. But then a flicker of something deeper flashed through those coal-black orbs. An involuntary shudder ran up her spine. Then just as quickly the look was gone and replaced with what Terri believed to be condescension.
She’d seen that look before. Most men were either intimidated or mystified by her ethnic appearance, as though she either withheld or could unlock some great ancestral secret. Her shoulders straightened as she walked into the room.
Clint was immediately taken aback by the quiet power Terri exuded. Her shoulder-length, glistening ebony dreadlocks were not what he perceived to be the coiffure of the cosmopolitan woman. Rather hers was the image of a woman awakened to their nubian ancestry and determined to flaunt it in the most exotic of displays. Her obvious sense of cultural pride intrigued, yet put him off, his own sense of roots having been buried beneath years of equal-opportunity rhetoric, stirring only periodically into the light.
The instant observation, combined with her cool appraisal of him, rubbed him the wrong way and nudged him off balance. His thick lashes lowered to shield his eyes, and his jaw involuntarily tightened.
Mark moved from around the table and stood between Terri and Clint, breaking through the tension-filled silence.
“Terri Powers, this is Clinton Steele, CEO of Hightower Enterprises.”
Clint stretched out his large hand and enveloped Terri’s petite one.
“Mr. Steele,” Terri responded with a slight incline of her head, observing his perfectly clipped nails.
For one crazy moment Clint wanted to say, “Your Majesty,” and he knew that if he opened his mouth, he’d say something equally ridiculous.
As a result he held her hand a moment longer than necessary, and Terri felt the tingling warmth spread through her fingers and glide up her arm. The sensation nearly caused her to snatch her hand away, but her inherent good manners interceded. Slowly she removed her hand, letting it fall casually to her side.
Terri raised her eyes to meet Clint’s, and he quickly discovered that they were a fascinating shade of brown that seemed to darken or brighten with the play of light from the window.
“I’ll leave the two of you to get acquainted,” Mark interjected into the torrid air. “I’ll be back shortly, and we can go over the details.” He quickly exited the office, leaving Terri and Clint to face each other.
“I understand that we have business to discuss,” Terri said, her low melodic voice again caressing him.
He watched her graceful movements as she moved to a leather chair at the head of the long oak conference table. Her sheath of golden linen barely shadowed the curves beneath, Clint realized with a twinge in his loins. He took a seat to Terri’s right.
“Mark has informed me that you’re interested in using our advertising services to promote your…new cable stations, Mr. Steele.” She folded her hands in front of her.
Did he detect a note of sarcasm in her voice or was it just his imagination? “That’s right.” He rubbed a hand across his bearded chin. “Your agency comes highly recommended from everyone here in New York. And from all that Mark has told me so far, I believe Powers Incorporated will do an excellent job.”
Clint leaned back in his seat and boldly surveyed her sculpted mahogany features, letting his eyes drift down her long neck to the tempting V in the front of her dress.
Terri felt a hot flush spread throughout her body from the intensity of Clint’s appraisal. But she would not let his daring looks distract her.
“I’m sure that Mark also told you that I’ve been out—” she swallowed back the memories “—away for the past three months?” She raised a naturally arched eyebrow in question.
Yes, and what happened to cause that haunted look in your eyes? “He mentioned it.”
Why did his voice seem to pump through her like an overactive pulse? “I’m sure what he didn’t tell you, Mr. Steele, is that I have very firm beliefs about who I do business with.”
The hairs on the back of Clint’s neck began to tingle. “Don’t we all?”
“In other words, Mr. Steele, I would appreciate it if you took your business elsewhere.”
Clint’s eyes creased into two dark slits. He leaned dangerously forward and the scent of his cologne raced to Terri’s brain, quickening her heartbeat.
His voice lowered to a deep rumble. “Let me get this straight. I’ve been working my butt off in negotiations with your partner—” he pointed an accusing finger at Terri “—and now you’re gonna tell me you don’t want my business?”
Pure unadulterated anger flared in his black eyes and hardened the velvet voice. “What in the hell is going on around here? Is this some kind of game?”
“Had I been here, Mr. Steele,” Terri answered calmly, not intimidated by the vehemence in his voice, “these talks would not have gone beyond the first phone call. Mr. Andrews is well aware of my policies. I’m sure that his…oversight was not intentional. However, my decision stands.”
Terri rose regally from her seat, and Clint had the overwhelming sensation of being dismissed like a common errand boy by this very self-centered, arrogant—
“I’m sorry,” Terri said gently, the soft sincerity of those two simple words mysteriously calming his fury. “I’m sure that this inexcusable situation has cost you a great deal of time and energy. I only wish that I could offer more than an apology.”
Why did even her refusal sound so pleasant to his ear? “Have you at least looked over the proposal?” Clint found himself inexplicably yearning for her approval. The revelation pissed him off, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I’m certain that it will be a great campaign.”
“I have looked it over. However, there’s—”
“Is it money? You don’t think it’s adequate?” Now she was annoyed. Why did they all think that money was the answer to everything? What about integrity?
“This has nothing to do with money,” Terri answered, forcing a steady calm into her voice. “It wouldn’t matter if your offer were ten times the amount. It’s you, Mr. Steele, that I have the problem with. You and your business practices. I cannot in good conscience allow this company to be associated with Hightower Enterprises.”
Clint felt as if all the wind had been kicked out of him. All of his work, his sacrifices, his dreams and accomplishments, came to a grinding halt with just those few callous words. Did she have any idea what he’d been through…did she…? Slowly he shook his head. Of course she didn’t. No one did. That was the way he’d wanted things. Now, for the first time, he was paying for that choice.
Clint rose from his seat, looking at her with a mixture of regret—that she’d fallen prey to the things that had been said about him—and disappointment. He’d begun to look forward to working with this tempting woman against all of his reservations.
Terri held her breath as Clint’s powerful body rose and spread before her. His dark blue suit fit the massive shoulders and long, muscular legs to exquisite perfection. She dared to steal a glance at the short wavy black hair that capped his proud head. For one dizzying moment she wondered what it would feel like to run her hands across it.
Had this been any other time…other circumstances…maybe… But she still had wounds to heal, emotions to mend, and unfortunately the darkly handsome Clinton Steele represented everything that she had grown to resent.
Terri