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High Stakes
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High Stakes

“Would you like some more?” asked Derek

Candice shook her head and leaned away from the sparkling dinner table. “Wish I could.”

“So?”

“What?” She feigned confusion, hoping that he’d forgotten their bet of a kiss for every point out of ten that he earned with this meal.

“How many points are we talking?” He cocked an eyebrow and grinned.

“I could…give you a zero.”

“You could.” He gazed at her knowingly.

“Oh, man.” Candice closed her eyes and raised a hand to her forehead. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this. Her nemesis, her archrival, and she was going to have to…pay him a compliment, not to mention—

“Zero to ten,” Derek said softly.

“Ten,” she whispered, and puckered her lips.

Note from the editor…

An Evening To Remember… Those words evoke all kinds of emotions and memories. How do you plan a romantic evening with your guy that will help you get in touch with each other on every level?

Start with a great dinner that you cook together. Be sure to light several candles and put fresh flowers on the table. Enjoy a few glasses of wine and pick out your favorite music to set the mood. After dinner take the time to really talk to each other. Hold hands and snuggle on the sofa in front of the fireplace. And maybe take a few minutes to read aloud selected sexy scenes from your favorite Harlequin Temptation novel. After that, anything can happen….

That’s just one way to have an evening to remember. There are so many more. Write and tell us how you keep the spark in your relationship. And don’t forget to check out our Web site at www.eHarlequin.com.

Sincerely,

Birgit Davis-Todd

Executive Editor

High Stakes

Barbara Dunlop


www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Dear Reader,

Here’s the final story of the Reeves-DuCarter brothers. From the moment brother Derek appeared in Next to Nothing! to give his baby brother hell and his middle brother sage advice in Flying High, I’ve known that when Derek’s turn came, he was going to fall fast and he was going to fall hard.

Sure enough, Candice Hammond, the daughter of his archenemy, rocked Derek’s world. He’s used to being in charge, yet she challenges him at every turn. The woman is his intellectual and emotional match, and she’s going toe to toe with the millionaire entrepreneur until he gives her everything she wants. Which is also everything he wants, though he doesn’t know it yet.

I truly hope you enjoy the Reeves-DuCarter brothers. They’ve been a delight for me to live with and I’m thrilled to be able to share them. I’d love to hear from you at www.barbaradunlop.com.

Best,

Barbara Dunlop

Books by Barbara Dunlop

HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

848—FOREVER JAKE

901—NEXT TO NOTHING!*

940—TOO CLOSE TO CALL

1006—FLYING HIGH*

HARLEQUIN FLIPSIDE

22—OUT OF ORDER

HARLEQUIN DUETS

54—THE MOUNTIE STEALS A WIFE

90—A GROOM IN HER STOCKING

98—THE WISH-LIST WIFE

To Dad.

With appreciation, admiration and love.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

1

YOU’RE ALWAYS THE BEST MAN, but never the groom…. ” Derek Reeves’s brother Tyler propped his elbows on the terrace guardrail outside the ballroom of the Quayside Hotel. Orchestra music and muted laughter from their middle brother, Striker’s, wedding reception wafted through the open French doors into the clear September night.

Derek grinned to himself. He’d admit to feeling a little smug about being the Reeves family’s sole remaining bachelor. He turned his back on the rose garden, the marble fountain and Lake Washington and imitated his brother’s pose. “Jealous?” he asked.

Tyler’s gaze strayed through the open doors to where Jenna, his wife of three months, chatted with the other bridesmaids. There was a thread of incredulous laughter in his voice. “Not hardly.”

Derek took a swig of his ice water. He had to admit that Jenna was great. So was Erin, Striker’s new bride. But they were still wives. They had needs, demands and agendas. Derek was planning to be his own man for a long time to come.

Tyler nodded at the water. “You the designated driver or something?”

Derek shook his head. “I’m expecting a call from Tokyo.”

“You brought your cell phone to your brother’s wedding?”

“I turned it off during the ceremony.”

“We have got to get you a life.”

“By life, I’m assuming you mean a ball and chain of my own? Misery may love company, little brother, but I don’t think so.”

Tyler raised his glass of Scotch in a mock toast. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”

The wind picked up off the lake, bringing with it the scent of roses, as Derek slid his brother a skeptical gaze. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m perfectly happy on my own.”

“How do you know?”

Derek frowned. “What kind of a question is that?”

“When’s the last time you had a steady girlfriend?”

“Define steady.”

“Longer than eight hours.”

The frown turned to another grin. It had been a while. Which meant Derek’s life was ticking along exactly the way he liked it. “Few months. Maybe a year.”

“We need to find you a nice girl to bring home to Mom.”

Derek let out a chopped laugh at the sappy expression on Tyler’s face. “There’s nothing worse than a reformed bachelor.”

“Hey, I’m being serious here.”

“So am I. If I want a woman, I’ll find a woman. No offense, bro, but I don’t need your help on the romance front.”

Tyler snorted. “Romance? I think they’re called one-night stands.”

“And your point is…”

“My point is, you’re hanging out with the wrong kind of women.”

“Well, the right kind of woman sure isn’t going to hang out with me.”

Derek had been in Europe three times this month. He had to be in Japan on the fifth. And if he didn’t figure out a way to salvage that electronics deal they’d just lost to Hammond Electronics, he’d be drumming up wireless business in rural Brazil. He somehow suspected most nice girls would insist he spend at least half his life on the North American continent.

“You never know,” said Tyler, making a show of sizing Derek up. “They might be able to get past your looks.”

“Nice try, pretty boy.”

Tyler laughed.

“The rest of you shareholders should be grateful I’ve stayed single.”

“Why?”

“The minute I have a little woman at home, the bottom line’s going to suffer.”

Tyler clicked his teeth, shook his head and gave Derek a pitying look.

“Don’t get sarcastic with me,” said Derek. “Women dilute a man’s focus. They want him to cater to their little whims, bring home presents, talk about their feelings.”

“Not all women are like that. Jenna’s not like that.”

“Yeah? When’s the last time you two spent an evening apart?”

Tyler glanced toward the ballroom again.

“A week?” asked Derek. “A month? Anytime since the wedding?”

“It’s not because I can’t—”

“Right,” Derek drawled, knowing he’d easily won the round. Time to move the conversation along. “So while you were busy cuddling and whispering sweet nothings, did Jenna happen to say anything about the Lighthouse renovations?”

The Lighthouse Restaurant was a showpiece on the top floor of the family-owned Quayside Hotel. It was being renovated by Jenna and Candice Hammond’s company, Canna Interiors.

“She says you and Candice have been fighting again,” said Tyler.

“How could I fight with Candice? I’ve been in London for the past three days.”

“Candice obviously didn’t notice you were gone. She kept right on fighting.”

“Only way she can win,” Derek muttered.

“You do realize that you two are driving Jenna nuts.”

“So get Jenna to talk to Candice.” It wasn’t Derek’s fault that Candice was impossible.

“Candice says you’re micromanaging.”

Like hell. “I’m making sure Candice Hammond doesn’t blow three and a half million of my dollars.”

“They’re a reputable company.”

“She’s out for revenge.”

“Why?”

“Because you and I lied to them.”

“Jenna and I are happily married. Candice isn’t mad anymore.”

“She may not be mad at you, but she’s still plotting against me.”

“You’re paranoid.”

Derek took another swallow of his water. Paranoia was a highly underrated quality in a corporate executive. It had saved Derek’s ass more than once. “Just because I’m paranoid, doesn’t mean she’s not out to get me.”

“GET IT, CANDICE!” cried Jenna as Erin tossed the bridal bouquet over her head toward the middle of the Quayside ballroom.

Candice cringed when she realized it was coming in her direction. She faded to the back of the pack, vowing to thank Jenna later for calling even more attention to her single, relationship-less, dateless status. Cream-colored roses and pale orchids arced gracefully toward the domed ceiling, far above the heads of young women who’d gathered in a cluster.

That Erin had some arm on her.

Candice took another step back, then another and another. The women in front of her stretched up, their fingertips just missing the ribbon streamers as the bouquet’s trajectory brought it back toward earth.

They were all missing, turning, frowning…

Candice’s eyes widened in disbelief. Who would have thought Erin could toss that puppy thirty-five feet? Despite her efforts to avoid it, the huge bouquet zeroed in on her like radar. It plunked against her chest, and her arms automatically went around it.

Jenna dashed over from the sidelines, cheering madly in her apricot bridesmaid dress and high heels. Tiny sprigs of baby’s breath jiggled in her upswept hair. “Great catch,” she sang.

“Gee, thanks.”

Jenna laughed. “Now all we need to do is find you a man.”

Candice quickly shifted the bouquet to one hand, lowering it and tucking it behind her thigh, trying to shake the feeling that all eyes in the room were on her. Why didn’t somebody just write up a big Loser sign and paste it to her forehead?

It wasn’t that she had any particular interest in getting married. It was more that the world at large seemed to think twenty-seven was too old to be single. Like she was some kind of wrinkled spinster.

Jenna scanned the room. “Let’s see. Not too tall. Somebody with good career prospects. We want patience and a good sense of humor, since you can be—” She abruptly snapped her mouth shut.

“Since I can be what?” asked Candice, eyeing up her friend and business partner. Even wearing a satin gown and baby’s breath, Jenna still managed to look calculating.

Jenna didn’t answer.

“Are you suggesting I’m grumpy?” asked Candice.

“Testy.”

“Testy?”

The single men lined up for the garter toss, and Jenna took Candice by the arm, pulling her aside. “Only sometimes.”

Candice was more than happy to vacate center stage. She looked around for a nearby table to abandon the bouquet. If she was lucky, one of the eager, single ladies would steal it. “I’m never testy,” she said.

Jenna patted her arm. “I’m thinking about you and Derek.”

Candice rolled her eyes at the mention of Derek’s name. She and Jenna had been working on the Lighthouse Restaurant renovation for three months now, and he’d been her shadow—like she couldn’t be trusted. Well, she had news for him. He’d lied to her, not the other way around.

“He’s the testy one,” she said to Jenna.

“Only when you’re around.”

Oh, sure, like it was Candice’s fault. “He’s arrogant, overbearing, bossy and conceited.”

Jenna smiled. “Yeah. But in a good way.”

A roar rose from the crowd of men as Erin’s garter sailed through the air. A hand shot up and snagged it. The successful man let out a whoop and made a big show of twirling it around his index finger. At least somebody was happy about being publicly tagged as next.

Jenna tilted her head and checked out the garter catcher. “Maybe you just need to get laid.”

Candice wasn’t sure she’d heard right. “Excuse me?”

“After three months of marriage, I can highly recommend it.”

“Over-sharing,” said Candice.

Jenna grinned, nodding toward the group of men. “I bet any one of them would be willing—”

Candice took a backward step. “Think I’ll go up and check on the Lighthouse.”

“What’s to check? You’re off duty, and we’re setting you up here.”

There was no way in the world Candice was hanging around while Jenna set her up. She tried to pull her arm from Jenna’s grasp. “I want to make sure the paneling was delivered.”

Jenna’s hand tightened. “It’s not like you’ll be able to do anything about it before Monday.”

Candice reached out to disentangle Jenna’s fingers. “I’ll sleep better if I take a quick look. You go ahead and scope out prospects while I’m gone.”

Jenna brightened. “Really?”

“Sure. Why not?” Since Candice had no intention of coming back to the wedding reception, Jenna could scope to her heart’s content. Candice wasn’t even planning to go up to the restaurant. Just as soon as she was out of sight, she was heading for the main door of the lobby and grabbing a taxi.

“See you later.” She started in the direction of the express elevator that serviced the rooftop restaurant. As she walked, she kept an eye on Jenna to gauge the best moment for her escape.

Not quite yet. Tyler had appeared out of the crowd, and both he and Jenna focused on Candice. They exchanged a few words, and then Tyler’s eyes lit up. They both waved happily.

Jenna had obviously enlisted his aid. How humiliating.

Candice gave them a brittle smile and waved back, making a show of pressing the elevator button. Unfortunately, the elevator was parked on the ballroom floor, and the doors immediately opened. She had no choice but to step inside.

Then the doors slid shut behind her, blocking out the orchestra and the buzz of conversation. She sighed in relief as she leaned against the cool wall, resting her hands on the metal rail, tipping her head back. It was nice in here.

The elevator rushed smoothly upward. Through the outer glass wall, Candice could see the black lake, the stars and the lights of Seattle.

She loved the Quayside. As the major shareholder, Derek was a major pain, but the building was beautiful. It was a stunning example of mid-twentieth century red brick and terra-cotta.

She and Jenna’s decorating business, Canna Interiors, was just getting established in Seattle, so they were taking every job they were offered. But Candice hoped they’d be able to specialize in historic buildings like the Quayside. They were the city’s heart and soul.

The doors slid open on the fortieth floor, and she decided she’d better kill a little time before going back down to escape. She left the elevator, and her footsteps echoed on the raw plywood as she made her way down the hall.

The entire floor was closed for renovation. The paneling had been delivered, but then she’d already known that. Sheets of plywood, stacks of wood paneling and cans of paint were clustered against the foyer walls.

She passed through the big, antique double doors that led into the dining room. The wallboard had been peeled back to reveal arched window openings, and the glaziers had just finished installing new windows. The view of the city was spectacular.

Abandoning the bouquet on a sawhorse, she squinted around the room, picturing antique light fixtures, turn-of-the-century paintings, white tablecloths, hurricane lamps and fine china. Her gaze caught and held on the half-finished wine rack, apprehension sliding through her stomach. Something wasn’t right.

She started toward it.

Lifting the plans from the raw wood top, she read the hand-scrawled note stapled to one corner. She stifled the urge to scream. She’d given specific instructions on the placement and the dimensions of the wine rack. But Derek had undermined her authority, yet again.

She crumpled the note in a tight fist. He might be the reason she and Jenna had this job in the first place, but she had to put a stop to the man’s meddling. Forget cutting out on the reception, maybe she’d go back to the ballroom and track him down. Track him down, corner him and set the ground rules once and for all.

As she formulated a scathing lecture, the elevator doors down the hall whirred open. Measured, masculine footsteps headed along the passageway toward her. Perfect. Jenna had sent up a date. Could the evening get any worse?

She started toward the double doors, intent on sending the hapless man away. But when Derek appeared, she stopped short.

Tall, broad-shouldered and athletic, his strong chin, aristocratic nose and piercing blue eyes combined with his wealth and power to give him anything he wanted in life.

But not this time.

Not with her.

He froze, hitting her with a narrow-eyed, suspicious gaze. “What are you doing up here?”

“At the moment, I’m trying to figure out how much damage you’ve done.”

He continued toward her, imposing in his best man tux. “What are you talking about? What damage?”

As he grew closer, she was glad to be wearing three-inch heels.

Drawing herself up, refusing to be intimidated, she folded her arms across her chest and nodded at the wine rack. “Take a look at that.”

Before focusing on the wine rack, Derek’s gaze stopped for a moment on the empty doorway, a puzzled frown forming on his face. Then he moved on. “I don’t see any damage.”

The muscles in the back of her neck tensed, and her voice went up an octave. “Of course you don’t. Because you have no clue what we’re doing here.”

“I know exactly what we’re doing here. We’re renovating my restaurant.”

Candice stepped closer to the wine rack, gesturing to the base with an open hand. “Are you trying to waste money?”

“I’m trying to save money.”

“False economy.”

Derek’s full mouth curved up in a cynical grin. “How many millions do you suppose have been wasted using that logic?”

“You have trust issues, you know that?”

“I trust people.”

“Uh-huh.”

“As long as they’re within my sight.”

Candice pointed at him and then pointed to her chest. “You lied to me, remember?”

“And you threatened to waste my money.”

“Because you’d told us you were Derek Reeves—”

“I am Derek Reeves.”

“Being Derek Reeves is quite different than being Derek Reeves-DuCarter.”

“You never fessed up to being Candice Hammond, either.”

Candice had to admit, it was odd they’d gone two weeks without realizing each other’s identity. She’d heard about the Reeves-DuCarters all her life, had known they were in competition with her father, had even met Derek’s father at a party or two. Still, she hadn’t put it together.

“I never lied about who I was,” she said.

“No,” Derek agreed. “It was Tyler that kept that little tidbit to himself.”

“So pick on your brother, and leave me alone.”

“I can’t leave you alone.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re mad enough to waste my money.”

“I’m also professional enough to fix your mistakes.”

Derek shook his head, coughing out a cold laugh.

Candice shimmied into a crouch position, pointing to the base of the wine rack to prove her point. “You know the marble top’s precut?”

He crouched beside her. “So?”

“So, exhibit A, you had them build the base two feet off. That’s false economy, because we’re going to have to rip it out and start over again.”

“That’s faulty logic. Because I just moved the wine rack. I didn’t change the dimensions.”

“If you’d bothered to read the plans, you’d know we have to recess it into the wall.”

“I did bother to read the plans. They told me you wanted to rebuild an entire wall for the sake of two feet.”

She raised her eyebrows. There was a master plan at work here. Details mattered. Something Derek obviously didn’t grasp. “Your point is?”

He straightened and held out his hand. “You’re scary, you know that?”

She ignored his unspoken offer. But halfway up, her toe caught on the hem of her dress and she stumbled. He caught her arm to steady her.

The feel of his calluses against her skin sent an instant shock wave through her body. She gritted her teeth against the sensation. “You’re the scary one.” What with his drive-by style of executive interference, and…

She shook off his hand.

“Because I catch you when you fall?” His deep voice rumbled close to her ear.

She took a quick step away from him, remembering the last time he’d touched her, spoken to her in that vibrating, intimate tone that made her blood dance. It was three months ago, on that silly carnival ride, the Tunnel of Love. It was the day she found out he was a fraud. The day they’d found out Tyler was spying on Jenna.

She shook off the memory, rubbing his touch away from her bare arm. “Do you want a five-star restaurant or a diner?”

“Oh, definitely a diner,” he drawled, cocking his head sideways.

“Well, you’re well on your way.”

“You are so melodramatic.”

“You are so naive.”

His eyes widened at that one.

She began counting off on her fingertips. “We have an artist on retainer. We’ve consulted on the marble pattern. We’ve already bought paintings for the recessed wall. The lines on the marble will flow perfectly toward the pillars, emphasize the mini atrium and the windows—”

“You may have a heady, artistic vision, but I have an obligation to the other shareholders.”

“To ruin the renovation?”

“To make sure Reeves-DuCarter worldwide share prices don’t plummet when the financial markets hear how much you’re spending on a wine rack.”

“It’s the focal point of the entire room—”

“Hey, Derek.”

Candice clamped her mouth shut and drew back at the sound of Tyler Reeves’s voice.

“There you are,” said Derek. “I thought you’d died in the hallway.”

“Can I borrow your cell phone?” asked Tyler.

Candice glanced from man to man. Both were tall and broad shouldered, with short dark hair and those startling blue eyes. Tyler was slightly slimmer, and he always looked a whole lot happier.

“Did the reception move up here?” she asked.

It was one thing for her to duck out on Erin and Striker. She was just another wedding guest. But Derek and Tyler were in their brother’s wedding party.

“I just need to check on something,” said Tyler, holding out his hand for the phone.

Derek looked confused, but he reached into the pocket of his tux jacket. “Yeah…Sure…”