Page 486 of The Christmas Wife

"Takeover?" I stiffen. "Who’s talking about a takeover?"

“It’s the only way I’d consider investing in your business.”

“I only need help,” I say through gritted teeth.

“That’s putting it mildly. I reached out to the bank you took the loan from?—”

“You reached out to my bank?” I burst out.

“You don’t think I’d be here without due diligence?—”

I cut in, “The terms of my deal with them are confidential.” I lock my fingers together.

“Not when you’re about to go bankrupt. When they realized the Davenport group was considering an acquisition?—”

“An investment; a loan; that’sallI’m looking for. Something to tide me over and buy me some time until I get back on my feet.”

“Keep fooling yourself. You might be a good baker?—”

“So you did like my dessert?” I declare in a triumphant voice.

“—but you’re not a businessperson, by any stretch of imagination.”

Oh, my god! What I wouldn’t give to wipe that smug look off his face.

“There are ups and downs in any business.” I lock my fingers together. “Things will bounce back.”

“There are ups and downs, and then, there are downs and more downs,” he drawls.

Anger thuds at my temples.I will not lose my temper. I will not.

He slides his hand into his pocket. “Not that I don’t understand your reluctance to sell out.”

“You do?”

“Of course. You’ve invested your sweat and blood, and likely, your entire savings into the venture. Too bad, you didn’t have a financial person advising you.”

Of course, he’d say that. Nate’s always been a numbers whiz. I heard that from Ben. It’s why, even when they were in the navy together, Nate was quickly put in charge of strategy. He was the person coming up with the game plan, while Ben was always on the front lines. And Nate’s sharp brain helped him always stay ahead of the enemy. He saved Ben’s life many times, or so my brother informed me over the years. Too bad, his best friend’s temperament leaves much to be desired.

“I would be willing to consider a merger instead of an acquisition of your little business.” His gaze flicks about the place and back at me.

“Littlebusiness?” I curl my fingers into fists.Breathe, count back from ten. Do not give into the impulsive need to throw a pie in his face.

He wipes his thumb under his lip, a considering look in his eyes. “Of course, I don’t have to do anything. But given you’re Ben’s little sister, and he wouldn’t want me to leave you in the lurch, I might have a proposition that could help both of us.”

“Of course, you do.”

My sarcasm is lost on him, for he looks me up and down. “Marry me.”