THIRTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
FINN MCKENNA wanted one thing.
And she was standing fifteen feet away, completely unaware of what he was about to do and definitely not expecting the question he wanted to ask her. He watched the woman—tall, blonde, leggy, the kind any man in his right mind could imagine taking to dinner, twirling around a dance floor, holding close at the end of the night—and hoped like hell his plan worked.
If he was his grandfather, he’d have been toting the McKenna four-leaf clover in his pocket, knocking three times on the banister and whispering a prayer to the Lord above. Finn McKenna’s ancestors were nothing if not superstitious. Finn, on the other hand, believed in the kind of luck fostered by good research and hard work. Not the kind brought about by leprechauns and rainbows.
He’d put enough time into this project, that was for sure. Turned the idea left, right and upside down in his head. Done his research, twice over. In short, reassured himself as much as one man could that the lady he was going to talk to would say…
Yes.
“You’re insane.”
Finn turned and shrugged at his little brother. Riley McKenna had the same dark brown hair and sky-blue eyes as the rest of the McKenna boys, but something about Riley, maybe his grin or his devil-may-care attitude, gave those same features a little spin of dashing. Finn had inherited the serious, hard lines of his workaholic father, where Riley had more of their free-spirited mother’s twinkle. “I’m not crazy, Riley. It’s business. Risks are part of the job.”
“Here.” Riley handed him a glass. “I talked the bartender into pouring you and me some good quality Irish ale.”
“Thanks.” Finn sipped at the dark brew. It slid down his throat with smooth, almost spicy notes. The beer was dry, yet robust, the kind that promised a memorable drink in a single pint. A thick head of foam on top indicated the quality of the ale. Good choice on Riley’s part, but Finn wasn’t surprised. His little brother knew his brews.
All around him, people mingled and networked over several-hundred-dollar-a-bottle wines and martinis with names so fancy they needed their own dictionary. In this crowd, a beer stuck out like a dandelion in a field of manicured roses, but Finn McKenna had never been one to worry much about breaking the rules or caring what other people thought about him. It was what had fueled his success.
And had also been a part of his recent failure.
A temporary state, he reminded himself. Tonight, he was going to change all of that. He was going to rebuild his business and he was going to use Ellie Winston, interim CEO of WW Architectural Design, to help him do it.
She just didn’t know it yet.
Eleanor Winston, known by those close to her as “Ellie,” the new boss of WW, her father’s company. Henry Winston Sr., one of the two Ws in the company name, had retired suddenly a couple weeks ago. Rumor was he’d had a major heart attack and would probably not return to the chair. The other W, his brother, had walked out in a family dispute eleven years prior, but his name remained on the masthead.
Finn ticked off what he knew about Eleanor Winston in his head. Twenty-nine, with a master’s in design from a reputable college, three years working at a firm in Atlanta before moving to Boston shortly after her father’s illness. Her design work was primarily in residential housing—the McMansions much maligned by the architectural world—and Finn had heard she was none too pleased to be spending her days designing hospitals and office supertowers. All the more reason for her to accept his offer with gratitude. He’d scoped out his competition for several weeks before deciding WW Architects was the best choice. A fledgling president, overseeing a sprawling company with multiple projects going at any given time—surely she wanted a…helping hand. Yes, that’s what he’d call it. A helping hand. A win-win for her and him.
“So this is your grand plan? Talking to Ellie Winston? Here? Now?” Riley asked. “With you dressed like that?”
Finn glanced down at his dark gray pinstripe suit, crisp white shirt and navy blue tie. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
“Hey, nothing, if you’re heading to a funeral.” Riley patted his own shirt, as usual unbuttoned at the neck and devoid of a tie. “Make a statement, Finn. Get your sexy on.”
Finn shook off that advice. Riley was the more colorful McKenna brother, the one who always stood out in a crowd. Finn preferred his appearance neat, trim and professional—the same way he conducted business. Nothing too flashy, nothing too exciting.
“This is the perfect environment,” Finn said, nodding toward the woman. “She’s relaxed, maybe had a couple glasses of wine, and best of all—” he turned to his brother “—not expecting the offer I’m about to make.”
Riley chuckled. “Oh, I think that’s guaranteed.”
Finn’s gaze centered on Ellie Winston again. She laughed at something the guy beside her said. A full-throated laugh, her head thrown back, her deep green eyes dancing with merriment. Every time he’d seen her, she’d been like that—so open, so exuberant. Something dark and deep stirred in Finn’s gut, and for a split second he envied the man at her side. Wondered what it would be like to be caught in that spell. To be the one making her laugh and smile like that.
Damn, she was beautiful. Intriguing.
And a distraction, he told himself. One he couldn’t afford. Hadn’t he already learned that lesson from one painful mistake after another?
“A woman like that…” Riley shook his head. “I don’t think hardball is the right way to play it, Hawk.”
“I hate when you call me that.”
“Hey, if the nickname fits.” Riley grinned. “You, big brother, spy the weak, pluck them up and use them to feather your nest.” He put a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “But in the nicest way possible. Of course.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” A magazine had dubbed Finn “the Hawk” a few years ago when he’d done a surprise buyout of his closest competitor. Then six months later, his next closest competitor. He’d absorbed the other businesses into his own, becoming one of the largest architectural firms in New England. At least for a while. Until his ex-girlfriend’s betrayal had reduced his company to half its size, taking his reputation down at the same time.
Now he’d slipped in the rankings, not even powerful enough to make any lists anymore. Or to merit any other nickname other than “Failure.”
But not for long.
A waitress came by with a tray of crudités and offered some to Finn and Riley. Finn waved off the food, but Riley picked up a smoked salmon–topped cucumber slice and shot the waitress a grin. “Are these as delicious as you are beautiful?”
A flush filled her face and she smiled. “You’ll have to try one to see.”
He popped it in his mouth,
