Impulse Control (2 page)

Russ’s stomach jumped. Was he serious? “Five million.”

“I won’t give you the money, but I bet donations will pour in when viewers find out you’re working for free—and why. You may have all those Emmys, but I have a huge reach. You can do a lot with Media Life Networks backing you. Say yes, and I’ll put trailers on every hour and take a film crew down to Washington with me for the gala.” His smile was smug. “You know I wouldn’t miss it.”

Currently, his parents handled fund-raising, but they wouldn’t live forever. An endowed chair would guarantee Lance’s legacy and maybe even find a cure for the cancer that had killed him. Russ couldn’t say no. Every extra penny he made went into the endowment fund, but it was slow going when he also needed to invest in the production company so he could keep making money. “Yes.”

Susannah gasped and then lifted her chin. “Respectfully, sir, this is a catastrophe waiting to happen. I appreciate your faith in my show, but Mr. Donovan and I just met, and we haven’t said a civil word to each other.”

Sitting, she was just a little bit of a thing. All her height must have come from those sexy pink shoes. Did she own hiking boots? He hoped so, but he’d happily pack those pink heels into the mountains if she’d be willing to wear them in the tent at night. Adrenaline slid into his veins. He was ready to go right now.

Bergman shrugged, attention back on the tablet in front of him, and Russ felt sorry for her. She didn’t seem to know she was fighting a losing battle. Bergman’s mind was clearly made up, and he was very good at tightening screws. “Frankly, Susannah, the worse it goes, the better it will play on TV. Some of the most famous on-screen couples couldn’t stand each other. You don’t have to be friends to have great chemistry.”

She looked appalled. “We don’t have chemistry.”

Russ draped an arm along the back of her chair. “Aw, gimme a chance, sweetheart.” Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad for his image. He looked twice as wild standing in her froufrou kitchen, and keeping her alive in the forest or wherever they wanted to film would make him look even tougher.
Hello, ratings. Good-bye, leukemia.
Double win.

She scooted to the edge of her seat, away from his arm. “Impossible. I have a family, and I can’t take off into the woods at a moment’s notice. That’s why my show is so popular. I stay
at home.
”

Bergman finally looked up from his tablet. Russ tensed at the steel in his eyes.
Here it comes.
“Ms. Stone, you have the top-rated show on this network, but you didn’t get there without help—my help. I suggest you get with the program. If you absolutely cannot work out a solution for your family so that you can go on a short camping trip next weekend, then I can’t guarantee your star will continue to rise at Media Life Networks. I need to back a winner. Are you my winner or not?”

Susannah’s gaze dropped and then flashed over to meet his. He had no idea what was going through her mind, but her shattered expression knocked the wind out of him. Bergman was taking this to the mat, but had chosen different techniques to pin them. He was dangling a carrot in front of Russ, and threatening Susannah with a stick. It wasn’t like Bergman to be such a dick, so there must be more at stake than he was letting on. Was the network in trouble?

Russ took her hand and squeezed it. If Bergman truly needed help, Russ couldn’t let her say no. “No worries, Rich. We’ve got our Wild Woman right here. Just leave her to me.” He tightened his fingers in warning. She squeezed back, harder, before her hand slid out of his. He was glad for his sturdy shoes when her spike heel ground into his instep.

She had her game face back on when she gave Bergman a tight smile. “When you put it that way, I’m feeling wilder by the minute. I assume turnabout’s fair play? Mr. Donovan looks wonderful in my kitchen. I’d love the chance to teach him some useful domestic skills, and my mind is spinning with ways to smooth his rough edges. I’m thinking we’ll start with a revitalizing cucumber-and-oatmeal facial for all that sun damage. His hair could use some TLC, too.”

He barely stifled a shudder.

Her smile filled with malice. “Perhaps we’ll prepare an elegant black-tie dinner for some celebrity guests to show off your new look. Oh, and my viewers are a sucker for a man who isn’t afraid to change a diaper. You’re not afraid, are you?”

Absolutely terrified, but he’d swim through Arctic water before he’d admit it. She wanted to play dirty? Fine with him. “Bring it on, Susie.” There was no way anything she threw at him could be rougher than what he could plan for her.

…

Susannah fumed all the way home. She’d planned to give Donovan a piece of her mind after they left Mr. Bergman’s office, but he’d stopped to flirt with Holly on the way out.
Of course he had.
Holly’s flaming red hair and killer curves attracted men like ants to a dropped potato chip.

Stamp, stamp, stamp…stop it!
If she were a single man, she’d flirt with Holly, too.

It was better not to start more trouble, anyway. She had enough of her own waiting at home with a teething toddler, broken garbage disposal, custody fight papers under the fruit bowl on the dining room table, bathroom renovation in progress, and now she had to find someone to take care of Billy for three days while she went on a camping trip in winter. She shivered as the cold in her frozen toes seeped into her bones. Ethan was the most logical choice, but he’d never wanted a baby in the first place. The only reason he was appealing the custody decision was to punish her for leaving him. He didn’t want to take care of a baby, especially one with purpling gums that kept him up all night, drooling and feverish. She couldn’t imagine Ethan spending a night sleeping in a recliner with sweaty baby plastered to his chest, not that Billy would want his father anyway.

She pulled into the driveway, and the front door swung open. Was she late? No, right on time, but Kim was waiting in the doorway holding Billy. The college student had been a godsend, especially since the divorce. Susannah rushed out of the car and picked her way through the ice, glad she’d salted and shoveled before she left this morning or her stupid shoes would send her sprawling.

“Everything okay, Kim?”

“Yes, indeed, but this guy wants his momma.”

Susannah shucked her coat, hung it on the hook, and reached for him. As soon as his little hands settled around her neck and sank into her hair, her frustration eased, and she sighed. “His momma wanted him, too. Thanks for coming at the last minute.”

“No problem. The usual for Monday?”

“Yes, and I have a favor to ask. I got thrown a curveball at work. Are you available to stay with Billy next weekend?” Susannah could tell the answer was going to be no by the regret that clouded Kim’s blue eyes.

“I’ve got two soccer games and a hot date, but I’m free the weekend after that. Can you shift it?”

“Tragically, no.” There were a limited number of people she trusted with Billy. At fourteen months, he was a handful, into everything and full of mischief. “Don’t worry about it. You’re always my first choice, but I’ll figure out something. Have fun, kick ass, and use a condom. Otherwise you’ll end up with one of these…” She grabbed Billy’s hand and made him wave at Kim.

They both cracked up. Kim leaned in to hug both her and Billy at the same time. “He’s a walking advertisement for unsafe sex, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I can’t say I’m sad he’s my hot date tonight.”

“No Holly? I thought you two were happy hour-ing it.”

“Shiny new man caught her eye.” Any minute she expected to get a text canceling, which would be fine. Well, not really. Selfishly, she hoped Holly didn’t start something with Donovan. Susannah had a feeling she was going to need a sympathetic and completely biased friend during this
At Home in the Wild
fiasco. Camping? In late January? In the mountains?
Kill me now.
She saw Kim to the door and carried Billy upstairs so she could dive into a comfy pair of yoga pants, sports bra, long-sleeved T-shirt, and her favorite purple fleece. The underwire in her bra had been digging into her side all day, her feet were freezing in her shoes, and her suit felt like a full-body straitjacket.

She’d gotten spoiled doing
At Home
. Her viewers didn’t want to see a well-dressed woman whipping out five-course meals. They wanted to see a real one. Real she could do. New York City dog-eat-dog businesswoman? If today were any indication, she’d lost her ability to fake it—on every level.

Anxiety rose at the memory of this morning’s meeting. She’d frozen at the thought of losing her show, and Donovan had rescued her. If he hadn’t taken control, Mr. Bergman might have moved on to the next rising star on his list, and then what would she do? She counted her blessings every day that she’d been able to turn her homemaking skills into a career. Busy working parents were eager to learn how to keep the home fires burning while living their fast-paced lives and, regardless of Russ Donovan’s opinion, her job wasn’t easy.

Her gratitude toward him shriveled. The concern she’d seen in his gaze when he took her hand hadn’t been for her. He obviously didn’t want to lose the chance to endow his pet charity, and he’d been worried she was going to blow it. She wasn’t going to blow it, but also wasn’t going to make the mistake of thinking they were in this together. It was ridiculously easy to fall into her old patterns, and she needed to be vigilant. Her tendency to please combined with her attraction to egotistical jerks was a recipe for misery, a lesson she didn’t need to learn more than once.

She caught Billy just as he nudged the bedroom door open and made his move for the stairs. “Oh, no, you don’t.” She took his hand, and they inched their way down together, step by slow step. As they reached the bottom, the door opened, and Holly burst into the house. “Jesus Christ, it’s freezing out there.”

Despite the swirl of icy wind, warmth spread through Susannah. “What are you doing home? I thought you’d be out on the town with the Wild Man.”

Holly threw off layers and hung them on hooks. “The call of your nachos, a stiff drink, and a good snuggle with Billy is a whole lot stronger than the lure of the Wild Man’s wicked body. Let’s not forget I’m no sweet young thing anymore.”

Susannah rolled her eyes. “You’re thirty, not ninety, Hol.”

“I know.” She drew the last word out into a long sigh and then giggled. “Which is why it was a hard decision. I was itching to see his sexy tattoo up close and personal.”

“What tattoo?”

“The one on his back. Haven’t you seen it on his show?”

Susannah shook her head. “I’ve never seen any of his shows.”

“I’ve got to get you out from under your rock, sister. Maybe we should have a
Wild Man
marathon after dinner. Or kick it old school with
In the Wild.
I could stare at that man all night.” She made a catlike growl and swiped the air in front of her with pretend claws.

“He was right there in front of your desk, Hol. You could have had him.”

“He didn’t want me,” Holly said cheerfully. “He was fishing for information about you.”

A frisson of something she refused to name shot through her. “No way.”

“Way.” Holly held out her arms, and Billy reached for her. She picked him up and kissed his cheek with a playful squeak, making him giggle. “Squeaky kiss! Squeaky! C’mon, let’s go in the kitchen, so your momma can make me a drink.”

“What did he want to know?” Susannah asked, trying to sound casual as she followed her friend into the kitchen.

“Subtlety is not his strong suit. I couldn’t decide whether to play dumb or tell him we’re BFFs. I wasn’t sure which approach would further my goal.”

Susannah paused with her hand on the cocktail shaker. “You have a goal?”

“Getting you laid properly, duh.”

A hot chill made her shudder. “Don’t even think about it. He’s not my type, and if you said anything to make him think he is, I’m going to kill you. I know where you sleep.” She put her hands on her hips. “You’re not getting a margarita until you tell me what you said.”

A grin tilted Holly’s full lips. “I told him he wasn’t your type.”

“Good.” A surge of disappointment startled her. She masked it with a firm nod and then hurried to the fridge to get her homemade sweet-and-sour mix and fill the ice bucket. Methodically, she rimmed glasses with salt, filled them with ice, measured liquor and sour mix into the shaker, shook, and poured. After garnishing each drink with a candied lime wedge, she placed them on coasters and slid one across the island to her friend. Holly was still grinning, and it made her nervous.

“Why do you look so happy with yourself?”

“Because reverse psychology was invented for men like him. I could almost see him trying to figure out which tools in his survival kit would get him into your pants.”

Susannah groaned. “He reminds me of Ethan.”

Holly shook her head emphatically. “Not every confident, successful, take-charge sex god is a cheating jerk.” Billy began to struggle, so Holly set him on his feet and stood to follow him around the kitchen, glass in hand. “Some of them genuinely like women and are fantastic in bed. The Wild Man would be good for you. You don’t have to keep him. Just let him boost your confidence so you’re ready to get back in the game.”

Holly followed Billy out into the hall, saving her from the need to respond. Russ Donovan might be a sex god, but she was the opposite of a goddess. Ethan had been very clear about her sexual inadequacies even before she’d caught him cheating, and the idea of anything like that happening between her and Russ made her feel sick. She didn’t brand every strong-willed man with her ex-husband’s flaws, but she knew her own defects intimately. She had lost herself trying to please Ethan, and Donovan tripped all her triggers. She wasn’t going to lose herself again.

Her heart raced at the thought of being alone with him for three days, and she took a deep breath to quell the panic. Holly didn’t understand what was going to happen next weekend. Donovan wasn’t interested in boosting her confidence; he was going to do his best to make her look like an idiot on television. She’d be lucky not to break an ankle or get frostbite. Where would they sleep? What would they eat? How on earth would they pass the time?