“Let’s refocus on my plan, shall we?”
“How successful your plan will be depends on what kind of resources Dartmoor has to carry it out.”
She wondered what was going on behind the polite mask he’d worn ever since he greeted her, but the face she’d once been able to read like a book was closed to her.
“That’s why I included the audit. It’s out of date, but the numbers can give you a rough idea of our current financial situation.”
“‘Rough’ describes your situation pretty well.”
She swallowed a sharp retort. She’d expected him to be a little gentler in his comments. He’d called the meeting, after all. It was as if just being near her irritated him, the same way being near him made her nerves dance along the jagged edge between grief, anger, and desire.
He set the papers aside. “Remind me of how much money you want, exactly.”
She took the tablet and shuffled through her slideshow to the screen with the final figures, then gave it back to him.
“With that I could do the most important updates at one of our stores. Once it’s clear the updates can make it profitable again, we can obtain more financing from our usual sources to roll them out in our other locations.”
“Your mother must have other assets she can sell to raise the capital you need.”
Here it came. Madison squared her shoulders and shifted back in her chair.
“My father dug himself in deeper than you think. He’d been quietly selling mother’s other assets over the last few years to balance the books at Dartmoor. Shortly before he died, he even sold the condo here in town and moved in with his mistress-slash-CFO.”
Jake swore, quietly but colorfully. She didn’t blame him.
“Your mother had no clue?”
“Mother left my dad right after…when he stopped speaking to me. She didn’t have any say in what he did as long as she stayed married to him, in any case. Grandfather Moore left everything in a trust, with my father as trustee.”
“Which would explain why your mother didn’t divorce him.”
“That, and the fact that she never stopped loving him.”
Jake swore again. He knew enough about unhappy marriages from his own parents’ to understand why Madison’s eyes clouded over with a lifetime of little sorrows.
He scrolled through the presentation and pretended to go over the numbers again while he wondered what he’d gotten himself into and how to get himself out of it. In his eagerness to solve Madison’s problem for her, he’d made two major miscalculations.
The first was that Dartmoor’s financial situation was much worse than he’d expected. He saw no way to justify a direct loan for Dartmoor to the Board at Carlyle’s. He’d be as bad as her father if he based it on nothing more than his feelings for Madison, whatever those feelings were. And he didn’t have enough liquidity to raise the cash from his other holdings for a personal loan. He hated it that he couldn’t help her.
His other big mistake was underestimating how strong his feelings for Madison still were. Their dinner together had been about closure, moving on with his life. He’d quickly learned what a stupid illusion that had been. He doubted now there was any way in the world to get this woman out of his system.
Even now his body hummed with wanting her, despite the opposite-of-sexy conversation, but the last hour had reminded him of all there was to how he felt about her besides sex. The delicate scent of her perfume calmed him at the same time it aroused him. He wished he was able to drink in the sound of her voice so he could hear it when she wasn’t there. Her every move, the shape of her hands, her rare smiles intoxicated him.
Not to mention the psychic slap to the head he’d gotten once he realized how clever her plans for Dartmoor really were. She was damned good at what she did.
Absently he flipped through the screenshots. A stray fact he’d missed caught his eye.
“Why does my mother own ten percent of Dartmoor?”
Madison gave a rueful laugh. “My father talked your father into buying it while you and I were engaged. At one point my dad owned a small share in Carlyle & Sons, too. I guess your dad held on after we didn’t…” She gestured vaguely with her ringless left hand.
Something clicked in Jake’s brain. Madison’s mother owned sixty percent of the company. Madison held another ten percent, as did his mother and two other shareholders.
The pieces fell into place – how he’d be able to help Madison. How he’d be able to have her back in his bed, in his life, which, he saw with stunning clarity, had been his goal all along.
How he’d be able to do it all, have it all, without letting her know how much her desertion had hurt him, or how badly she could hurt him again.
It was a gamble, a big one, but one he was willing to take.
“I'm sorry,” he said, “but there isn’t enough here to justify a loan from Carlyle’s.”
Instead of slumping back in defeat as he’d expected, she sat straighter and leaned toward him. “If you can loan me half the amount, I might be able to raise the rest from friends.”
“No.”
“A personal loan?”
He shook his head. “Not possible.”
A momentary wave of grief crossed her face, but she quickly hid it. Methodically she closed her tablet and gathered her papers, then put them neatly into her briefcase. She looked at him one last time, as if to gauge whether to say more, but he kept his feelings carefully masked. She pushed her chair away from the table.
Timing, keeping her slightly off-balance, was vital. She was half out of the chair when he allowed his voice to soften and said, “Madi.”
Madison sat down and lifted her chin. She didn’t trust the expression on Jake’s face.
“There might be a way.”
Now she really didn’t trust his expression. “How?”
“What if I bought two-thirds of your mother’s shares in Dartmoor?”
He cited a number that made her tense her jaw to stop it from dropping open.
“That should give you the capital to update two or three of the stores,” he added.
“I thought you couldn’t come up with that kind of money.”
“Not as a loan. But as an investment it would be worth borrowing against some of my other holdings.”
“But what if you lost it all!”
He looked as surprised as she was at her reaction, then gave her a slow grin.
“I'd still be, as you put it before, ‘filthy rich’.”
She cringed at the reminder while her pulse raced. There might be a way to save Dartmoor after all!
But the expression on Jake’s face still worried her. She ran through the numbers in her head and found the trap.
“Two-thirds of Mother’s share is forty percent of Dartmoor. With your mother’s share, you’d own fifty percent.”
He chuckled. “That gives me a lot more control over what my mother does than I’m likely to have. Besides, you, your mother, and the other current shareholders will have fifty percent, too.”
“Which might lead to a deadlocked board.”
He leaned closer and put his hand over hers. She resisted the urge to pull away, but his touch sent a shockwave of need through