Connor shook his head.What in the hell-fuck was he doing thinking about an opponent’s daughter?Picturing her in a submissive pose would lead to nothing other than a hard-on.
Shoving thoughts of her aside and determined to keep his focus, Connor followed his typical predawn ritual by heading for the bathroom to take a one-minute cold shower.
Wide-awake, invigorated, he dragged his fingers through his wet hair then dried off before pulling on a pair of compression workout skins.
Silence surrounded him as he went into one of the loft’s spare bedrooms.He’d set up a television and a couple of pieces of cardio equipment for the times he didn’t want to take advantage of the building’s fitness facility.
He grabbed a bottle of water from the small refrigerator and downed all twenty ounces before cranking up 1980s rock music.Then he turned on the wall-mounted television and pushed the mute button.
Focused on the hour ahead, he settled onto the seat of the rowing machine and reached for the handle.As he pulled, he concentrated on his breathing until he reached the cadence he wanted.
Occasionally, he glanced at the television screen, noting what was happening with the world’s financial indexes.He’d only been ten when his grandfather had started instructing him on the importance of understanding how each market was connected to another, explaining that a hiccup overseas could cause disaster in the Donovan portfolio.
Connor had paid attention.How could he not?The man was affectionately known as the Colonel.Even though he’d never risen higher than the rank of captain in the army, he’d married Libby Sykes and had become honorary patriarch of the family and its fortune.He’d worked damned hard to increase the family’s wealth, and he constantly reminded his descendants of their obligations.Connor had dutifully taken it all in, even filling notebooks with the man’s wisdom.
His father had been killed in a horrific car accident.Connor’s half-brother, Cade, had survived—physically, at least.Guilt at being the driver continued to gnaw on him.
Connor had returned home to work alongside his grandfather at Donovan Worldwide.Four years ago, at the age of twenty-three, Connor had accepted the mantle of president, two decades earlier than expected.Like all trials he’d been presented with, he’d conquered it.
There was nothing that made his blood flow more than a challenge.The bigger the challenge, the greater the reward.He’d known acquiring BHI’s communications division would be difficult.But they had a number of patents that he wanted, patents that would give Donovan Worldwide a greater international platform.When he’d asked his younger brother, Nathan, to gather as much information on the Bertrands as possible, Nathan had said Pernell would never agree to it.
That didn’t stop him.
Like the generations before him, Connor realized that he had to take risks—calculated ones—to grow.Hell, even to remain relevant.
He spent many hours each day performing risk assessments.He carefully considered all ideas that made it past his Aunt Kathryn, his grandfather or his brothers.The ones really worth pursuing, he studied in depth, for weeks, even months.He didn’t rush the process.By the time he acted, he did so with complete confidence.
Little caught him off guard.
Connor had a reputation for dealing with issues straight up.At times, his forthrightness took others by surprise.BHI Communications was prime for a takeover.Rumors had been out there for months.Pernell should have been looking to sell or at least merge.
When Connor had arrived at BHI, he’d expected to meet with the board of directors—Pernell and Lara at the least.Connor had been prepared with an offer, willing to talk, open for negotiation.
Instead, Pernell had been in his office, alone.He hadn’t even stood to greet Connor.The older man was as stubborn as his Cajun roots were deep.Without even looking at the offer, he had told Connor to get out and not to come back unless he tripled the upfront cash.
No doubt Pernell considered himself to be cunningly brilliant.But for Connor, the strategy hadn’t worked.With a tight smile, he’d responded that the offer was no longer available.
He’d watch as BHI’s various communications holdings withered, just like some hotel investments had.Then Donovan Worldwide would pick at the remains.The problem was the damned patents.They were potentially worth more than the whole deal.And he wanted all of them, not just a few of them.
Which brought him back to Lara.
He missed a beat.With determination, he resumed his smooth rowing motion.He tried telling himself that his unusual reaction had been because he’d been shocked by Pernell’s behavior.
Somewhere deep inside, he knew that wasn’t true.
He had never experienced that kind of visceral reaction to a woman.
He’d been captivated by her the first night they’d met, when Erin had introduced them at the cocktail party.Holding Lara’s coat for her in the lobby had been natural.He’d been strangely disappointed when she’d refused his offer of a ride home.
Last night, near the elevator, her surprise at running into him had been genuine.
Attraction had sent a ragged surge of energy through him.It had made him forget his own anger.
He’d wanted to spend more time with her.
The rower’s timer sounded, and he eased off with a loud exhalation.As he slowed his workout, he reminded himself that he exercised to clear his mind.Obsessing over the brunette beauty wouldn’t get him anywhere.
He headed into the kitchen for a mug of coffee.He guzzled that while he sliced veggies for an omelet.As that bubbled in a satisfying amount of olive oil, he checked his email, looked at his calendar and scanned the agenda that Thompson had prepared for the monthly family business meeting.
