CHAPTER 5: HIS HALF SISTER
962 Words
Family is family, and it will always remain and be regarded as such with dignity and respect, no matter what.
She sensed something hideous had happened between them to cause such a serious rift.
She took an immense interest in whatever was going on between them. But she felt it was none of her business.
"I'm not selling it, Kate, and that is the final. Your mother sold the property to me, and if you are not happy with her decision, I suggest you take it up with her, not me."
He paused, took a deep breath, and then continued. "I hope you will get that straight and never call me to discuss this with me."
"Thanks for your understanding. I hope you find everlasting peace with that," he said.
A wintry smile swept across his face. "At least you and my brother—excuse me, half brothers—can comfort yourselves knowing it is still in the family, even if it is the illegitimate branch."
With that, he hung up. Though he appeared calm and collected on the surface,
She observed a raw quality gnawing at the edge of his restraint, a ferocity struggling for expression.
He focused his inky gaze on her, and she met it head-on. Slowly, the anger eased, and when he spoke, it was with impressive composure. "Why don't we start over and do this the right way?"
He held out his hand. "I'm Stark Juvenile."
She hesitated for a brief second. Unable to help herself, she offered him a hand in return. "Isabella Johnson."
He captured me in his grasp, and suddenly the spacious conference room became a suffocating box.
Everything about him overwhelmed me. His grip. The dichotomy of callused fingers and palms attached to the hand of a white-collar executive
His size and his innate power—even the crisp, masculine scent that clung to him—invaded her senses and threatened to rob her of her will.
It became hard to breathe, let alone think, especially when he stood so close to her.
She shouldn't have this sort of physical reaction to a complete stranger, especially when that stranger is her worst nightmare.
Unfortunately, he'd just proven beyond all doubt that she had no control whatsoever over her visceral response to him.
Maybe it would have been easier if he weren't so drop-dead gorgeous on occasion in the past, but one small problem tripped her up when she walked up to this man.
The face.
This particular face was organized into a masculine toughness, the sort that had most men maintaining a wary distance while women stumbled over themselves to get closer. It also happened to be the most attractive—not to mention dangerous—of all the faces she'd encountered.
Worse, underpinning his toughness was a blatant appraisal, almost s****l in nature, that challenged her on some instinctive level.
What had she been told about this man? Black eyes, black hair, and a black heart
Why, oh why, hadn't anyone warned her about the equally black desire she could arouse with one simple touch?
He continued to hold her hand in his. "Let us start from the top," he suggested.
"I want to buy Slytherin Ranch."
What will it take to make that happen?"
The question freed her from his spell and had her tugging her hand from his grasp.
She managed to resist the urge to wipe her palm against her jeans and took a swift step backward to give herself some breathing room.
She didn't care if her retreat gave him a slight edge.
Whatever game he had set in motion The distance was more important right now than gaining a negotiation advantage.
"I'll make it easy for you, Stark; I won't sell." She said it bluntly.
He swept her claim aside as though it were inconsequential.
Maybe in his book, it was.
"I don't think you understand. I win. Always. No matter what it takes, Anything."
"I don't want to know the extent or extra mile I have to cover to achieve anything. The point is that I always win. I don't lose." Stark declared.
A chill shot up her spine, and she fought to keep the apprehension from showing in her expression. "Not this time."
"Every time." He folded his arms across his chest.
"Now explain it to me. Why are you being so stubborn? I've offered you a generous price, haven't I?" He asked.
She stared at him in disbelief.
She whipped off her hat in a 'getting down to business' gesture. She tossed it toward the empty conference table, where it landed with a soft thud.
"This isn't about money! That land has been in my family since California became a state. The only reason I think might warrant me releasing the land is... "
She tilted her head to one side.
"Is what?" He asked with immense interest what she had in mind.
Without taking too long, she provided him with the only answer she got: "Inside a box so that people like you would never have any reasons to come near it. Not even the thought to do so."
Stark kept his eyes on her and burst out. He laughed with his mouth wide open.
Unlike most guys in the streets who have their anterior teeth placed anterior to the alveolar ridge, second molars placed over tuberosities, and teeth midline shifted to the left side compared with anatomic landmarks (incisive papilla and mid-palatine suture), Stark had a perfect tooth arrangement that she couldn't ignore, but that wasn't enough to get her derailed.
"Is that how you plan to steal it away from me, Stark? Do your goons take matters that far, or are they limited to simple threats and warnings?" She asked angrily.
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