The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad: The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad. Marie Ferrarella

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      But more importantly, Savannah had hit the biggest issue on the mark. If the situation were reversed he’d want more than facts and figures thrown at him. Despite any concessions tossed his way, he’d want to know Sullivans’ Jewels was more than a second choice. After all, they weren’t just talking about the lease of space; they were talking about partnering brands to broaden their demographics.

      The insight made him stop and question himself. Had his goal become more important than the process? Was he rushing his decisions to meet his self-imposed deadline? If that were the case, he needed to stop now and reassess.

      He kept his mind open to the possibilities as they toured the space with Crosse. His first impression was of the size. It was smaller than any of their other stores. But the prime location, right on the lobby, and accessibility to the old vault one story down were strong factors in its favor.

      Because he agreed with the strategy, he heeded Savannah’s advice to avoid talk of the proposal except for renovations and contractors in general because Crosse brought them up. By the time they completed the tour, including visits to the spa and coffee store, he’d made a decision. The process and the goal were both right-on.

      “Albert, thank you for your time.” He shook Crosse’s hand. “They say all things happen for a reason and in this case I need to agree. I originally went with Emerson because I thought their traditional image was a closer match for Sullivans’ Jewels. After staying here and talking with you and your sons, I see I was wrong.

      “We’re both family-owned and family-run companies. And our styles are very similar—'comfortable chic,’ Savannah called it last night.”

      With nothing to lose, Rick spoke from the heart. “I know you’re hesitant about going forward with the project, but I hope you decide in our favor. The fact is we fit very well indeed. And I’m excited about the prospect of working together. I think I can learn a lot from you.”

      “Hmm.” Albert stood with his arms crossed, nodding. They were totally mixed signals: one said he was closed off, the other that he was listening. He turned to Savannah, who had drifted to the background during the tour. She’d asked a few questions but had mostly followed quietly as the men wandered and talked.

      “Beautiful lady, what am I to make of this bloke? Upstairs he is cold and calculating, so serious with the numbers. But down here he comes alive, and shows passion and heart. Which is the true man?” Albert asked.

      Savannah smiled. “Both, of course. Upstairs he’s looking forward to what could be. He knows his business and the numbers tell of the possibilities. Here—” she spread her arms to indicate the vacant space they’d returned to “—it becomes real. He can see his store, feel it, breathe it. And, yes, he’s serious about his business. He is the heart of Sullivans’ Jewels.”

      Crosse angled his head at Rick. “Beautiful and loyal. You are lucky, Rick, to have someone who believes in you so strongly.”

      “Yes.” Truthfully her response had surprised Rick. He knew he’d been tough on her from the beginning, yet she’d nailed him with that comment. He found it more than a little disconcerting.

      “I have much to think about,” Albert stated. “I’ll have my assistant contact you regarding a time when we can meet tomorrow.”

      “Is it all right if we view the other London properties as time allows?” Rick requested.

      “I see no harm in that,” Crosse agreed.

      Rick inclined his head. “We’ll be waiting for your call.”

      Happy to be out of the snow and cold, Savannah crawled into the back of a taxi, scooting over to allow room for Rick. As she settled into the worn leather seat, her relief at being out of the weather shattered as her hand came to rest against Rick’s muscular thigh on the bench seat.

      Immediately the heat of his body warmed the backs of her icy fingers. For the thousandth time that day she rued forgetting her gloves at home.

      Rick’s head whipped around. It took every ounce of poise she possessed to meet the awareness in his blue gaze with a semblance of calm professionalism.

      Unfair. Unfair. What a cosmic joke if she had to fight him as well as herself to keep their relationship on a business level.

      She racked her mind for something to distract his attention from her. A street sign caught her attention. “Buckingham Palace. It must be close, can we drive by?”

      He looked over his shoulder at her with lifted brows, but he leaned forward and spoke to the driver.

      “Thank you.” She’d seen some lovely sights as they made their way through town to the Crosse properties—St. Paul’s Cathedral, the Millennium Bridge. Seen but not experienced.

      “I know we’re here on business, but please tell me we’ll get some free time to actually visit some of these beautiful sights.”

      She saw him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “I suppose you deserve something for your interference today,” Rick conceded. “You were right about Crosse. He needed reassurance. You saw that and quite possibly saved the deal.”

      “I hope so.” She shifted so she faced him. Watched as he lifted a hand to smother a yawn. The muscles in his throat worked and her mouth watered. “I liked Crosse.”

      “He liked you, too.” That was the second time in two days he’d said a man liked her. Knowing she shouldn’t go there, she couldn’t prevent the question from popping out.

      “Do you?” she asked.

      “Yes. I was being honest with him. I really do think I can learn from him.”

      “No,” she corrected, “do you like me?“

      His profile froze before he slowly turned and shot her a harassed glare. “What do you mean?”

      “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” What was she thinking asking such a personal question? Other than that somehow his answer mattered a great deal to her.

      “What are you talking about?” he asked, genuine puzzlement in his tone. “Everyone likes you.”

      “So you seem to think.” Stop this now, she pleaded with herself. But she didn’t care about everyone; she cared about him. “But what about you? I know you think I talk too much.”

      “You do,” he said with casual ease. “But I’m getting used to it. I even learn things, like ‘comfortable chic.’”

      She grinned. His announcement had both surprised and pleased her. “I noticed how you used that.” And how he’d skipped over her question.

      “I meant what I said. You changed the direction of the meeting today. Thank you.”

      “I’m sure you would have noticed before it was too late.”

      “Don’t start lying to me now, Savannah. I like to think I would have caught on eventually, but you don’t think so or you wouldn’t have interrupted.”

      “Well, you were overexcited—”

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