Daisey scrambled off his lap and moved closer to look at them. “Did you make ’em?”

  “I did. I watched a video,” she said. “Try it. It’s pretty good but messy.”

  “I like messy,” Daisey said, taking one half and trying to take a huge bite. Whipped cream came out the end and got on her hands, but she didn’t mind and just kept eating.

  “What about you, Nolan?” Delaney asked.

  “I like messy too,” he said, taking one of the sandwiches. But he meant more than this treat she’d made. He was already thinking of the messy situation that he was going to have if he didn’t stop lusting after Delaney Alexander. Although he wasn’t a man to deny himself, he had always thought he was smart about the relationships he’d had since Merri had died. But he was beginning to understand that those women hadn’t tempted him. Not like Delaney did.

  Daisey wiped her messy hands on the leg of his khakis, and he just shook his head. “Go see Mrs. Hobbs and ask her to get you ready for bed.”

  “Daddy!”

  “Daisey, it’s already past your bedtime,” he said firmly. “And you need to wash up. I’ll be in to say good night.”

  “Fine,” she huffed. “Good night, Delaney. I hope you can come again.”

  She walked into the house without looking at him, the little scamp. He couldn’t help smiling at the way she’d just done what she wanted. There was no denying his daughter was like him in that respect. He’d talk to her later.

  Turning to Delaney, he asked, “You said you play chess?”

  “I do, why?”

  He’d always found that he learned a lot about a person based on the way they played. And he needed some answers to the mystery that was Delaney.

  “Fancy a game after I put Daisey to bed?”

  “Sure. You know most guys don’t ask me to play chess,” she said with a wink.

  “Probably because they are scared of you,” he responded.

  * * *

  Delaney realized quickly that Nolan was a pretty serious chess player when he led her into his den and gestured to the board and chairs that were already set up.

  She glanced down and noticed that all of the pieces were not in their proper places. “Daisey play with you recently?”

  “Yes. She loves the board and she doesn’t like the rules of chess, so we play one round of chess and one round of Daisey’s game.”

  “Sounds fair. We can do the same thing if you are too good for me,” she said.

  “I doubt I will be. You seem like a wily opponent at most things.” He pulled out her chair and gestured for her to sit down.

  “Do you really see me as your opponent?”

  “I’m not entirely sure yet,” he admitted. “You are my business rival’s ex. So I’m being cautious.”

  “I can understand that. And then there’s the whole me breaking into his place thing,” she said.

  “About that...”

  Oh, ho. He wanted details. That wasn’t good. Why had she brought that up? What was she going to say? That she broke back in to get some dirt on him and had found more than she bargained for? No, she wasn’t going to admit that.

  “Whoever captures the first piece can ask a question and the other will answer it. Deal?” she suggested. She played chess with her father since it was the one game he played regularly, and had on occasion beaten him. If nothing else, it would give her a few extra minutes to figure out what she was going to reveal to Nolan tonight.

  “Deal. But you should know I was all-state.”

  “In chess? Even I know that there isn’t all-state in chess,” she said with a laugh.

  “No, in football. Just figured I’d toss in some humble bragging to turn your head,” he said.

  “You don’t have to brag to do that,” she admitted.

  He arched one eyebrow at her.

  “I told you I liked you in the wings. I think it’s only fair to say I like you without them too,” she said.

  “Noted.” He flashed her a grin. “You can go first.”

  She moved her pawn two spaces and he moved his one. They went back and forth, and since she wanted to know more about his rivalry with Quell Aerospace, she captured a pawn first.

  “Well played,” he murmured.

  “Why, thank you.” She gave him a coy smile. “Now, I believe the first question is mine.”

  “It is,” he agreed.

  She jumped right in. “Why are you rivals with Quell Aerospace?” she asked.

  “Because we both want to be the predominant provider of living space on Mars,” he said. “Just healthy competition.”

  “Is that all there is?”

  “You’ll have to take another piece before I answer your question,” he said, making his move and taking her pawn. “You left yourself open for that.”

  “I did,” she admitted. “So you still want to know about me breaking into Malcolm’s? Or something else?”

  “I’ll stick with the B and E.”

  She took a deep breath. She couldn’t reveal the stuff she knew about Malcolm’s business dealings without accidently saying too much again. “Malcolm dumped all my stuff on his front porch when we broke up. I couldn’t find a bracelet my grandmother had left me, and since he wasn’t answering my texts and said he was out of town, I broke in to look for it. That’s it.”

  She hoped that satisfied Nolan. It had worked for her dad, and even Malcolm was pacified with that explanation. She’d never mentioned the safe or the fact that she’d seen the documents in it. She’d guessed that Malcolm was doing something shady to get ahead of his competition based on the secretive meetings he’d had late at night and the calls she’d overheard. But she’d been surprised to see the evidence with her own eyes.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “That’s it?”

  “Yup.”

  “I think there is something you aren’t telling me,” he said.

  “There’s definitely a lot I’m not telling you, and you’re keeping things to yourself too,” she pointed out.

  “Am I?”

  “Yes. Like the real reason for your rivalry with Quell.”

  He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I’ve been in the boardroom of Quell Aerospace, and a photo of that man is on the wall,” she said, pointing to the portrait on the sideboard in among pictures of Daisey and Nolan. The man who she was only now realizing must be Nolan’s father.

  The famous test pilot who died piloting an experimental craft for Quell Aerospace.

  “My father,” he said, then stood and walked over to the portrait. “He died when I was twelve, and no one from Quell came to the funeral. I do want to beat him. It’s personal to me. But then I think all business should be.”

  “I agree with that. That’s why I started IDG with Olive and Paisley. We know that no matter how much people say it’s just business, it’s never impersonal. Everyone has a stake in it, and what better way to show the world how you feel than to use yourself in branding.”

  He lifted a brow. “Are you trying to sell me on your company? We’ve already contracted with you.”

  “No, just trying to distract you from thinking about losing your dad,” she said. “I never knew my mom since she died hours after I was born. But sometimes, even though I’ve lived my entire life without her, I still miss her. And feel an emptiness when I talk about her.”

  He turned toward Delaney, looking down at her with that intense gaze of his. “I still can’t figure you out.”

  “Does that matter?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” he said, leaning across the table, lowering his head to kiss her.

  Eight

  She tasted of whipped cream and summer strawberries, and though he’d told himself he wasn’t going to go down this route, he no longer remembered why. The chessboard was between them so the kiss should have been restrained, but she stirred something in him that was anything but low-key.

  He lifted his head and when he looked over at her, she licked her lips and wriggled her eyebrows at him.

  “How do you get better at kissing each time?” she asked.

  He realized that she used her words as a shield, keeping her opponent off guard and guessing. But the thing was that he wasn’t sure they were opponents.

  “Maybe if you win, I’ll tell you,” he said teasingly, leaning in closer to her. As much as he knew he had to watch himself around her, he couldn’t help himself sometimes. There was the business part that made it imperative that he use caution, as well as Daisey’s attachment to her. But then there was this intense attraction he felt for her that took him by surprise. Still, she was hard to get a read on and in his experience that meant that she was hiding something.

  But what?

  In his mind the only thing coming up was her connection to Quell Aerospace. “So you saw a portrait of my father at Quell?”

  “Wow, that’s a big leap in topics,” she said.

  “You’re not the only one who can do it.” He needed some answers before he let this go too far. And he wasn’t going to pretend that he was unaffected by her. His skin felt too tight as arousal took control. He wanted to push the table out of the way, pull her into his arms and make filthy hot love to her on the floor of his den.

  But he wasn’t a boy who had no control over himself and his desires. He would have her. There was no question in his mind, but first, he needed to know what she was hiding or at least the effect of whatever it was on him, his family and his business.

  “Yes, I saw your dad’s portrait there,” she said. “Malcolm also has a moon rock and photos of himself with every famous astronaut. There is a portrait—oil on canvas—I think of Malcolm’s father with Charles Lindbergh, as well. They call it the hall of heroes.”

  “Hall of heroes. You’d think if my dad meant that much to them, someone would have come to his funeral.”

  “You’d think. But I find businessmen seldom care about the people who make them money.”

  “You know I’m a businessman, right?” He lifted one eyebrow at her.

  She nodded and blew him a kiss. “I do. I’m not sure where you stand yet. You could be the exception that proves the rule, or you could be...”

  “Just like Malcolm Quell?”

  “Him or H. Baxter Alexander or hundreds of other CEOs who are so busy trying to beat the competition they lose sight of why they started.”

  “Am I about to get an ethics lesson from society’s bad girl heiress?” he asked drolly. A little surprised at the fervor in her voice since she normally worked so hard to seem unaffected by everything and everyone around her. He liked seeing this side of her.

  “No, that’s it. Stepping off my soapbox.”

  But it was clearly a hot-button issue for her. Her quibbles weren’t just with Malcolm, but with her father. Interesting. He had no idea what that meant at this moment, so he tucked that away for later.

  She took her move in the game, leaving her king vulnerable and he moved to check. She quickly moved to block and the game continued in silence for a few intense minutes. It dawned on him that she was testing his defenses. Her movements seemed erratic, but she was watching carefully to see how he played.

  Nolan hadn’t played against someone like Delaney before, so he was tempted to abandon his normal strategy to see what would shake her up. He debated a moment if winning or knowledge was more important, and since this was only a game and he needed to figure out her motives in the real world, knowledge won as it often did with him.

  He shifted his strategy, making seemingly careless mistakes to see if she would take advantage of them.

  She didn’t.

  “What are you up to?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “You’re not a careless player, Nolz. So why are you suddenly putting opportunity in my path?”

  He wasn’t someone that people called by nicknames. He was always Nolan. To his parents, coworkers, friends. The fact that she’d shortened his name in that way caught him off guard. Which was another thing she did. When things changed around her, she seemed to try to get under his skin. Was it simply so she could regain her own footing? He wasn’t sure.

  “You tell me, Delz.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Don’t like nicknames?”

  “I think you might be the first to attempt to use one with me,” he admitted.

  “Why is that? My friends call me Dellie, by the way,” she said.

  He leaned back in his chair, knowing he wasn’t going to tell her that he’d always been too serious and focused on his path. He wanted to reclaim the legacy that he felt had been lost when his father died. To that end, he wanted Cooper to be the name in aerospace and on this Mars mission to honor his father. So he’d never been one to chum around at school. He focused on his studies and then college and then running the business.

  “Dellie? So, tell me, who are your friends?” he asked.

  “Olive and Paisley,” she said. “They are my business partners too. They aren’t into the whole party scene, so they usually aren’t photographed with me.”

  “So they are part of your real life?” he asked. “I mean, the party scene isn’t who you really are, is it?”

  She tipped her head to the side and studied him for a long time. He had no idea what she was looking for, but she seemed to find it because she chewed her lower lip for a second before shrugging. “No, it’s not. That’s mainly to irritate my dad—yes, I know it sounds juvenile, but I can be petty.”

  * * *

  Delaney knew that Nolan was trying to pick apart her image and find out what was real and what was for show. She was telling him bits of the truth, but she wasn’t sure how much more she would give him. Because, in all honesty, she’d never really trusted any man and wasn’t sure she could start now.

  “It’s not juvenile,” he said.

  His response surprised her. “Maybe not, but I doubt you’d make the same choices I have.”

  “Why would I? We are two different people. And your life has shaped you, Delaney. Don’t sell yourself short,” he told her. “But also don’t take shortcuts.”

  “Is it your massive height that makes you focus on the diminutive?” Once again, she was deflecting. But she knew he was right. She had been shaped by her life. The only time her father interrupted his busy schedule for her was when she was in crisis. So she got into mischief at boarding school. Drank and did drugs to gain his attention. Slept with men she shouldn’t have and did things that were labeled bad or dangerous. But it had become a habit, and it was the only time when he focused on her.

  “It is. I really have a hard time with tiny things except my daughter,” he said.

  Yes. That was true. He had shown himself to be the kind of father that Delaney hadn’t realized existed, and she was curious how he did it and why. Was it Daisey who made the difference? Was she somehow a better child than Delaney had ever been?

  “You are particularly close to Daisey. Why is that?” she asked with more bluntness than she’d meant to.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” he countered.

  “I am just trying to understand your dynamic, that’s all. On the surface you and Daisey are very similar to me and my dad and yet...very different.” She huffed out a breath. “Never mind. Let’s just finish this game. I need to be going soon. I left Stanley at home alone, and he is probably getting worried.”

  He furrowed his brow at her. “Stanley?”

  “My sweet French bulldog.” She shot him a sassy look. “Did you think I had a boy toy stashed at home?”

  “If you did, I doubt his name would be Stanley,” he said dryly.

  “What’s wrong with Stanley?”

  “Nothing, I guess. Just doesn’t give off boy toy vibes.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Interesting.”

  “Is Stanley your first dog?”

  “Yes,” she said. Not sure what else to add. Her therapist had suggested she get a pet a few years ago, so she’d gone to the humane society and fallen in love with Stanley. He’d been a bit of a handful at first, but she’d taken him to training sessions and soon came to realize that her therapist had been right. Having someone to care for had forced her out of several of her destructive habits.

  It had also led her to think seriously about starting a long-term relationship, which had led to her affair with Malcolm. And that hadn’t ended well. Maybe she should have stuck to dogs instead of men.

  “You don’t strike me as the pet type,” he remarked.

  She had been about to move her bishop and put him in check when he said that.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  He shrugged, then gestured for her to move. But she didn’t.

  She tried to think of something positive that he could have meant when he’d said that, but it eluded her.

  “Come on, spit it out. What did you mean?”

  “That you just don’t seem like someone who’d want to take care of a dog. I mean, it’s a 24/7 job, sort of like parenting.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that,” she said. She moved her bishop and put him in check before standing up. “One of the things that growing up with my father taught me was how not to be a good parent, so with Stanley I just do the opposite. That’s check and I think mate. Good night, Nolz. It’s been interesting.”

  Delaney turned and started to walk to the door, but the heel of her sandal got caught in the hem of her dress and she stumbled but righted herself. She’d never been good at making a dramatic exit. But she just kept walking. The important part was to make her escape. Get out of the room before she let him see that his words had hurt her.

 

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