Natural Blond Instincts

6

THAT NIGHT, Kenna stayed up late, working in her fancy hotel room. From her little foray into the records department, she’d discovered something interesting. The projected analysis on the renovations, salaries, expenses, everything, had been carefully filled out, and yet there’d been no follow-up since adding this hotel to the Mallory fleet. Because of that, no one could see at a glance how things had gone.

Had they overspent on the renovations done so far? Underspent? What? No way to tell.

Employee contracts were up for renewal, but how could management go into negotiations without seeing how the last contracts had benefited them and not benefited them?

So she spent the next two hours burning the midnight oil, working on her little laptop that kept freezing up-the poor thing was so old it could scarcely handle the spreadsheets and reports-working until she came up with articulate and concise thoughts on the matter.

Only then did she get into bed, satisfied that for one day at least, she’d earned her keep.

But one thing Kenna had never been able to do was turn off her brain. She lay there in her frou-frou room with the antique Queen Anne bed, staring at the ornately decorated ceiling painted in elegant cream and thought about what she’d done.

Committed to six months in this place.

Sure, the numbers and accounting would be fun, and so would torturing Serena with her presence, and maybe even a little torture thrown Wes’s way as well, but no doubt, being here would also take its toll.

Although Wes had actually, genuinely made her laugh tonight. Shocking. She’d always had a thing for a guy who could make her laugh, and she had a sinking feeling that beneath Weston Roth’s fancy dark suits beat the heart of a sharp cynic.

Call her sick, but she liked that, too.

Okay, forget sleep. It just wasn’t going to happen. Tossing aside her covers, she looked around, wondering how to amuse herself. For the first time in recent memory she actually had luxury at her fingertips and she was just lying around. What a complete waste of her time.

She drew herself a bubble bath in the decadent bathtub. Sinking into the hot water was heaven, and she lay back, wondering what tomorrow would bring, if people would appreciate her report…

And if Wes was going to wear a color tomorrow.

When she finally tried sleep again, slightly more relaxed now, she fell quickly. Unfortunately, somewhere near dawn, or what felt like it, the phone rang.

“Okay, listen up, cousin,” Serena said when Kenna managed to get the phone to her ear. “We have a few things to discuss.”

She blinked at the clock. Eight. In the morning. “Oh God.” She leapt out of bed. “I’m late.”

“Well, duh.”

“I didn’t want to be late.” She grabbed up the clock radio, which indeed had been set for the proper time, and had indeed gone off, and was at this very moment spilling out soft-rock music.

Too soft-rock, apparently, as it hadn’t come close to waking her. She tossed the thing down and looked around. Clothes. She needed clothes.

“Look, cuz, stay on page with me now. This call is about moi. Okay? So listen up. Stay away from him, he’s mine.”

Kenna eyed a skirt hanging off the back of a chair that probably had seen the eighteenth century. “Stay away from who?”

“Don’t be coy. Wes has the best ass ever. He’s a catch and I already have the catcher’s glove on.”

“Weston Roth?”

“Wake up, would you? Slap yourself, pinch yourself, something.”

“I am awake.” Now, anyway. What to go with the skirt? “You make him sound like a piece of meat.”

“Do I?”

Kenna stopped in the act of stripping. “You’re serious. You’re going after him because he’s got a great ass.”

“Why else?”

Um, because he was smart. Because he had a job.

Okay, because he had a great ass.

But a good ass did not a good man make. Kenna required far more. Her cousin could have him. “How does he feel about this?”

“Oh, please.” Serena scoffed. “If you’d thought of it first, you’d use him, too.”

“I have no desire to use him. Or anyone.”

“God, you are so sanctimonious, you know that? I know damn well-hell, the entire family knows damn well-you have this little secret fantasy of fitting in, of being like the rest of us. Now that chance is being dangled out in front of you like a carrot with this job, so don’t pretend you don’t care. You want Uncle Kenneth to see you, to see the real you, and be proud of that woman. And if Wes turns out to be able to help you with that, you’ll use him in a heartbeat. So. I’m telling you now. Back off.”

“You’re insane.”

“Fine. You don’t want to back off. Then may the best woman win.”

“I’m not going to play that game with you, Serena.”

“Whatever you say. But he’s going to be mine. Good luck today, cuz. Ta-ta.”

When the dial tone rang in her ear, Kenna hung up and shook her head. Good luck? She was going to need it, but not for the reasons Serena thought. Yes, Wes was way too into Mallory Enterprises and all it entailed, but he was entitled to be the man he wanted to be, just as she was entitled to be herself.

This wasn’t personal. She wouldn’t use him, not to fit in, not to do her job, not for anything.

She was going to do this on her own.

Hence the need for good luck.

Hopping around, she shoved her legs one at a time into her skirt, imagining Wes checking his fancy watch. Well, at least she didn’t have to take the time to make her bed, she actually had maid service for that. Her heels were lower today, but not by much, as exceptional height gave her confidence. Her skirt was longer, too, but tighter, making long strides difficult if not a detriment to her health. The blouse, however, she prided herself on. It wasn’t exactly business-like with its sheerness, but the camisole beneath was a definite antique, and soft and creamy against her skin. In the ensemble she felt pretty and sexy, and when she was pretty and sexy she knew she could take on the world.

So world, here she came.

She left her room and got on the elevator, where she watched the glowing numbers descend, until she stepped off on the corporate floor, which opened into a large, fancy reception area decorated as the rest of the hotel was-sophisticated and refined.

The air buzzed with activity. Everywhere she looked, well-dressed, darkly dressed employees went about their day doing…actually, she still wasn’t clear on that part because she hadn’t studied the organizational charts and job descriptions yet. But she would be.

Her cousin Serena, looking extremely Mallory in her perfectly fitted navy-blue business suit, stood next to one of the front desks. It was occupied by a man in his early twenties whipping his fingers across a keyboard.

“So what, you’re swamped,” Serena said to him, practically hanging over his shoulder. “This is your job, Josh, and my uncle-”

“Yeah, yeah, we all know who the uncle is.” He shot her an annoyed look. “Now, if you’d quit downloading porn from the Internet, maybe you’ll stop freezing your computer up.”

“It’s not porn. All I wanted was that firefighter calendar.”

“How can you tell they’re firefighters?” Josh clicked a few keys and a full body shot of an almost-naked hunk filled the screen. “The only equipment he’s got is his-”

“Just fix it, computer boy.”

“Right.” Josh’s tie was loose, his sleeves shoved past his elbows. With his lean body, hunching shoulders and frowning features, he looked quite tense but then Serena tended to do that to a person.

“What is it with firefighters anyway?” he muttered. “I could look that good in suspenders, no shirt and a fire hat, too. Want to see it?”

“Not in this lifetime,” Serena said, then she caught sight of Kenna and affixed a superior smile to her mouth. “Well, look who decided to show up for work. Uncle Kenneth told me to make you right at home in a special office, so I picked one out, just for you.” The smile she sent Kenna put her on full alert. “Last one on the left. You’ve got meetings all day, starting…” She checked her diamond-studded watch. “Oops. Ten minutes ago. The first one is a meet-and-greet in Conference Room A. Come on, I’d better take you.”

“I can find it.”

“Probably, but it’ll be far more fun to watch you muddle your way through your first real job.”

“You’re so incredibly sweet first thing in the morning,” Kenna said. “It’s touching.” They moved down yet another fancy hall with marble floors that made her wonder how her father kept from being sued right and left with broken ankles incurred by walking on the high-gloss surfaces.

Serena opened a set of floor-to-ceiling double doors with an extremely smug expression on her face. The room had a table larger than the apartment Kenna had left in Santa Barbara, and the chairs surrounding it were filled.

Wes came toward her with a smile on his face that didn’t meet his eyes behind his glasses. She wondered if he’d forgotten to eat his Cheerios for breakfast but didn’t have time to ask him before he started introducing her to staff-marketing director, sales director, customer service director-you name it, she met them.

“So, tell us, Kenna.” Serena gave her a sweet smile after the intros. “How do you intend to make your mark here?”

Kenna looked around in surprise. Everyone looked at her right back.

Including Wes, who raised a challenging brow that made her want to smack him. She lifted the reports she’d worked on in the middle of the night. “Well, I plan on taking an interest in how our projected budgets line up with the finished projects outcome. I noticed that on the renovations, for instance, we’ve gone way over-”

“Honestly, Kenna.” Serena’s laugh tinkled throughout the room. “You’ll have enough to do in the present without worrying about the past.”

“The past is quite important to any corporation’s present or future.” Kenna looked around her, but oddly enough, few met her gaze.

Except Wes. He cocked his head and studied her, the only one in the room to do so directly. “You have paperwork to back up your thoughts?”

Did she have paperwork? She loved paperwork.

“Yep.”

“It sounds extremely interesting.”

“It is extremely interesting.”

He wiggled his fingers toward her. “May I?”

Kenna looked around again. Suddenly everyone was meeting her gaze. What a bunch of suck-ups. “Sure.” She tossed him the reports.

He caught them with ease, tucked them under his arm and looked around him. “Thanks. Okay, people, here’s how the VP positions are going to work.” He then outlined how the division of duties would affect them, and what it meant to each department, while Kenna used the time to take stock of the fact that dark conservative clothing prevailed.

Except for Wes and his red tie, that is. She nearly grinned at that. Besides the tie, her turquoise skirt was the bright spot in the room.

When he finished, she shook a lot more hands. There was Mr. Bad Tie, Ms. Needs Highlights and so many others she hoped like hell she remembered their names later. In the midst of the can’t-wait-to-work-with-you speeches, Kenna caught Serena’s go-to-hell expression. Kenna knew from past experience that Serena was officially out to make her life miserable. Great. Just what she needed. Kenna escaped as soon as possible, looking forward to finding her office and digging into more work. On the way out, she grabbed Serena’s arm. “Which office did you say was mine?”

An unholy gleam came into her cousin’s eyes. “Fifth one on the right past the desk you saw me at earlier. Later.”

Yeah. Hopefully not.

Kenna followed the directions, counting the doors, and had just put her hand on the handle when she heard someone clear their throat.

Already she knew that sound, as the man it belonged to was a bundle of contradictions-cool and aloof, and yet capable of unpredictable bouts of quick wit and good humor. She’d told herself to ignore him, but deciding it and doing it were two entirely separate things.

Slowly she pivoted and faced one most definitely not-ignorable Weston Roth.

His smile was pure trouble. “Next round,” he said, and lifted a stack of papers and files in his hand. “These are for you.”