“Bed-hopping” as Frank, the douche bag, had called it during the meeting. Whether Reese agreed or not, the perception was there and wasn’t going anywhere. As long as the shareholders remained puritanically dated and the board handed them their balls—female board member Lilith’s included, because Reese would bet aces to assholes she had them—Reese was going to have a problem. Which meant he had to change his nefarious ways.
On the outside.
“I have to alter that perception,” Reese said. “Go from a man who enjoys the company of many women to a man who enjoys the company of one woman.”
“Can you even do that?” Tag smirked.
Smart-ass. Reese ignored him and continued. “Once they see me settled, snuggled into a routine, they’ll pay more attention to my achievements. The press will have to report on the woman who tamed me rather than the women I discard.” That wasn’t how he operated, but there was no convincing the outside world. The women he dated knew the score, enjoyed their time spent, and moved on. But reporters were vampires. They wanted blood and amicability didn’t make for interesting headlines.
It was the run-in with Merina that started Reese’s gears turning. She was fiery and passionate but also elegant and intelligent. If he were involved with someone like her, the local rags would have no choice but to take notice. One relationship for show could fix all of his problems. It was almost too simple.
He told his brother and father as much, finishing with, “Merina is the whole package.”
She’d fit into Reese’s world—into his plan—seamlessly. At the mention of package, he pictured her again. She’d been a study in opposites: stylish in understated matching jewelry, high-end name-brand shoes and clothing, yet she’d been borderline unhinged. Soaked to the bone and in complete disarray.
Her honeyed blond hair had begun to dry—the ends curling against her shoulders, while her silk shirt was plastered to her body, her breasts in particular, nipples erect and staring him in the face. But her fantastic tits didn’t have his undivided attention. Through her shirt, he’d been able to see the outline and a dab of color on what appeared to be a tattoo.
A tattoo.
It’d taken Herculean willpower to return his gaze to her strongly arched brows and frowning full lips. And even more willpower to keep his mind from wondering what bit of ink she’d permanently etched onto her skin. A butterfly? A teddy bear? A pair of hearts? Merina was a beautiful woman. Seeing her disheveled and learning that under her prim-and-proper exterior there lived a wild woman was…fascinating.
It’d been a long time since anyone had fascinated him.
“You. Settled?” One of Tag’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “With Merina Van Heusen?”
“That’s the gist.” Reese nodded.
“How? She has to hate you for trying to disassemble the VH.”
“A minor setback.”
Tag laughed so hard, he nearly toppled off his chair. By the time he righted himself, he was swiping moisture from his eyes and shaking his head. “Good luck with that, brother.”
Reese felt his mouth tug at the corners. He saw no other way. This would have to work.
“Merina sounds like the perfect option,” Alex interjected, and Reese breathed a sigh of relief. His father, his hero. If Alex saw this working, it would. They shared a brain for business, for negotiating. “She’ll do anything to keep her family’s legacy intact. And she’s tough enough to handle the press.”
“No kidding.” Reese grunted. In the short time he’d seen her, she’d barreled into his office unannounced, given his dinner date from last week an icy glare, and called him a suited sewer rat. Plus—
“She used the term horseshit,” Reese said, drawing the attention of the other men. “Who says that?” As he asked that question, he felt the corner of his mouth lift in amusement. When she said the word shit, her upper lip canted to one side, just a tad. Thanks to the rain that had washed away some of her makeup he’d noticed there was a tiny pale freckle at the corner of her mouth.
Sexy.
“Merina is tough, but also soft,” he said, dragging his thoughts back on course. “She dresses like a lady, handles herself like a woman, and doesn’t allow anyone to boss her around.”
“Including you,” Alex added. “But if you have her cooperation, sounds like she could smooth out your rough edges in the public eye.”
“Agree to what? What are we talking about here?” Tag, who was grinning in confusion, shook his head. “You going to demand she date you?”
“I’m going to ask her to marry me,” Reese stated, and his brother’s smile erased.
Alex smiled proudly. “Brilliant.”
“For six months,” Reese said. “An agreement that will end as soon as I’ve established my CEO status. Then we can quietly divorce, and I’ll sign over the Van Heusen.”
Jaw ajar, Tag looked from his father to his brother. “You’re both insane.”
“I’m desperate,” Reese said. It was the truth. “If I don’t convince the board to give me Dad’s position, they will appoint a CEO outside of this family.”
“That can’t happen.” Tag looked appropriately upset. None of them wanted anyone other than a family member running Crane Hotels.
“No,” Reese agreed. “It can’t.”
Alex was retiring in six months. He wouldn’t put off his retirement, a move that Reese supported a million percent. His father wouldn’t let the board bully him. “Start showing weakness, Reese,” he’d said, “and they’ll pick at your carcass the rest of your reign. We need them. But they need us more. We just have to make them see it.”
It was an irritating corporate chess game, but Reese was learning to toe the line when necessary. He planned on growing Crane Hotels to twice the size his father had, and to do that, he couldn’t be a lone wolf. He needed the support of the people who made decisions: the board.
Since his work ethic preceded him and they still didn’t trust him, the wolf would have to put on sheep’s clothing to make them believe he was one of the herd. A family man. A husband intent on keeping up squeaky-clean public appearances.
Win the press, win the board.
Win the board, win CEO.
But Reese also knew his weaknesses. He needed someone who was his opposite yet equal. He needed someone who could handle pressure elegantly, even while using the word horseshit.
He needed Merina Van Heusen.
“I have a dinner date,” Alex announced, standing from his chair.
“Who is she?” Tag teased.
Big Crane’s sons had all taken after him, none of them planning on settling down—well, until just now. But Reese’s would be a marriage on paper—totally different. His father had loved their mother, and after she died, he never found another to fill her shoes. Alex was in his sixties and neither the board nor the media cared if he dated. No, that magnifying glass focus fell on Reese, who was the next in line as heir to the Crane throne. Tag’s dating was overlooked because he was the party guy and it was expected. Eli was a nonissue since he was overseas. Maybe when he came home, the press would care who he was fucking.
Reese doubted it. The media had their hooks into him. He was the easy target—the man who’d made tawdry headlines because of the number of women he spent time with—and never spent time with more than once.