Dynasties: The Danforths - Maureen Child Mills & Boon M&B

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me just ask you this,” he said, his voice smooth and deep and edged with amusement, “if I said the wage was irrelevant, would you hire me?”

      Her first instinct was to say yes, but Tina knew it would be wasting her time and his to give him false hope or continue this interview. “No.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because—” she hesitated “—for one thing, you’re…a little older than most of our applicants.”

      Irritation narrowed his eyes. “I’m too old for you?”

      “Of course you’re not too old for me,” she said, then quickly tried to sidestep. “I mean, you’re not too old.” Oh, hell. She’d certainly gotten herself into a corner on this. There were laws against age discrimination. “It’s just that we mostly hire teenagers and college students, that’s all.”

      “You wouldn’t hire me because I’m not a teenager or college student.” He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her. “So what else is wrong with me?”

      “It’s not that there’s anything wrong with you.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Exactly.”

      He lifted a brow. “Exactly?”

      “Well, there’s also my sister, Sophia.”

      “What about her?”

      “She is easily—” Tina searched for the right word “—distracted by good-looking men and vice versa.”

      “So you think I’m too old and too good-looking,” he said dryly. “What else?”

      When he repeated it all back, Tina knew it sounded absurd. She cursed herself for not having had him just fill out an application and leave. “You’re overqualified.”

      “How do you know that?”

      “You’re obviously educated,” she said. “You speak well, exude confidence, and you look like you just stepped off the cover of Fortune 500 or—”

      It felt as if a lightbulb had flashed on.

      Danforth. Of the Savannah Danforths. Shipping magnates. Big estate. Lots and lots of money. There’d been rumors that Abraham Danforth would be running for the Senate.

      Everyone who lived in Savannah, and most everyone who didn’t, had heard of the Danforth family.

      Unable to speak, Tina continued to stare at Reid. That’s why he looked so familiar. He had been on the cover of a magazine, Savannah Business. The issue Reid’s face was on had been sitting in the customer magazine rack of the bakery for the past three months.

      “You—” her voice was a ragged whisper “—you’re…Abraham Danforth’s…”

      “Son,” he finished for her, and stuck out his hand again. “Reid Danforth. I’m here to rent the building next door.”

       Two

      Reid let the words hang between them while the woman digested her mistake. Her eyes had widened behind her glasses, and her cheeks bloomed a pretty shade of pink. She hadn’t even released the breath she’d inhaled when she’d realized who he was.

      He supposed he could make the situation easier by simply shrugging it off and assuring her there was no harm done. A simple misunderstanding. No big deal at all. It would certainly be the gentlemanly thing to do.

      But, hell, it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.

      He decided he would enjoy watching her squirm for a minute or two. Something told him that Tina Alexander was used to being composed and in control, and he rather liked the idea of ruffling this woman’s feathers.

      Especially after the crack about him being old. Dammit, thirty-two was not old!

      But when she continued to stare at him with alarm in her eyes, he began to feel a little guilty. He just wanted to rattle her a bit, not humiliate her.

      He opened his mouth with the intention of easing her embarrassment, but when the breath she’d been holding came rushing out like an icy snowstorm, he realized it wasn’t embarrassment on her cheeks but annoyance.

      “You knew perfectly well I was interviewing you for a job,” she said tightly. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

      Well, well, he thought, raising a brow. The kitten definitely had her back up now.

      “I suppose it was like watching a train wreck,” he said with a half grin. “I just couldn’t seem to tear myself away.”

      It was also refreshing not to be recognized, he realized. He’d always hated that people treated him differently when they knew he was a Danforth, either turned extremely helpful or absurdly friendly.

      Though at this moment friendly would hardly be a word to describe Tina Alexander, Reid thought. The mouth he’d thought so soft only a moment ago now pressed into a thin line.

      He wondered for one insane moment what those lips would feel like under his own.

      “I’m glad I’ve given you a few minutes of entertainment.” She crumpled the application under her fingers into a ball and tossed it into a trash can beside the desk. “Since you’re obviously not here looking for a job, is there something else I can do for you?”

      Well now, that was a leading question, Reid thought, but certainly not one he could honestly answer without getting thrown out of the office. “I’m here about the space next door.”

      She glanced up sharply. “What about it?”

      “My real estate broker spoke to a man named Ivan Alexander about leasing it.”

      “Ivan is my father.” Tina’s eyes narrowed cautiously. “But there must be some mistake. That space isn’t for lease.”

      “That’s odd, since I was told to stop by today so I can look at the inside and pick up a key.”

      “But—” Her voice faltered, broke. “That can’t be.”

      “I’ve already put a deposit down, Miss Alexander.”

      “A deposit?” she repeated, her cool tone now one of disbelief.

      “My broker gave your father a check yesterday.” Reid couldn’t help but wonder why it should matter to Tina one way or the other who rented the space. “Is there a problem?”

      Is there a problem? Tina stared at the man sitting across from her, felt a bubble of hysteria lodge in her throat. This can’t be, she told herself. Surely her parents would have told her if they’d rented the space.

      Her space.

      But it was true. She knew it in her heart. Reid Danforth would not be sitting here if it weren’t.

      Slowly she slipped her reading glasses off, then spread her hands on the desk and rose. “Will you excuse me a minute?”

      Without waiting for him to answer, Tina walked stiffly from the room, then headed directly for the double doors of the kitchen entrance. Her father was bent over a work table, frosting the bottom layer of what was going to be a three-tier, whipped cream, strawberry shortcake.

      Hands on her hips, she faced him. “How could you do this?”

      “Very easy,” he said without glancing up. “Slice the strawberries very thin and just the right amount of gelatine in the whip cream. Perfect every time.”

      “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” She snatched up the bowl of whipped cream sitting on the counter and held it away from him. “When the antique store moved out next door, you promised to rent the space to me.”

      “I make no promise.” Frowning, he straightened and

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