Ringing in Love Read online

  Ringing in Love

  Peggy Bird

  Avon, Massachusetts

  Copyright © 2014 by Peggy Bird.

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

  Published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

  10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

  Blue Ash, OH 45242. U.S.A.

  www.crimsonromance.com

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-7042-6

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-7042-1

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-7043-4

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-7043-8

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © iStockphoto.com/8213erika

  Acknowledgments

  When I started this journey as an author I had no idea that one of the benefits would be meeting so many remarkable women along the way. It’s about time I thanked them. First, Jennifer, Julie, Jess, and Tara, the editors (past and present) at Crimson Romance who made my dreams come true and my books make sense. Next, my Crimson Romance Sisters. Thank you for friending, liking, sharing, tweeting, posting, voting, reading, and reviewing whenever I’ve asked. You are the most awesome support group anyone could have. Last, the amazing Lisa at Tasty Book Tours and Amy at Unwrapping Romance. (Dominic is for you, Amy.) Thank you all for your support and encouragement!

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance

  Also Available

  Chapter 1

  “Damn it, Melody,” Catherine Bennett said as she slammed into the dolly loaded with banker’s boxes her assistant was supposed to be pulling. “You can’t stop like that. This thing has no brake lights to warn me.” As she steadied the pile of teetering boxes, she followed Melody’s gaze to see what had distracted her. She should have known. A man. Dominic Russo, to be precise. And he was definitely a distraction. Mister Dark and Dangerous. Man candy. A professional bachelor with a reputation for notching his bedpost with a new name every few weeks. Name a cliché describing a sexy male, and he fit it. Hell, he owned it.

  He also owned one of the most successful public relations firms in Philadelphia and was Catherine’s biggest competitor.

  “Damn is right,” Melody said. “Hot damn.”

  Catherine bent and rubbed the shin that had borne the brunt of the collision. “You might want to add an ‘ouch’ in there.”

  Melody whipped around as quickly as she’d stopped. “Oops. Sorry, Catherine. Are you okay? Didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just admiring the scenery.” She returned her attention to the man who was now almost at the elevator bank. “Look at those shoulders! And the way he moves. I bet he’s a great dancer—and you know what that means. He is definitely sex on legs. Wonder who he is?”

  “Your encyclopedic knowledge of Philadelphia gossip is failing you. The ‘scenery,’ as you put it, is Dominic Russo. The Russo Group has offices on the fifteenth floor.”

  “Of course! Shoulda looked at his face instead of his ass.” Melody started toward the elevator again. “If you’d told me my days in our new office building would be brightened by sightings of the sexiest man in the city, I’d have been happier about moving here.”

  “I’d have used it, believe me, if I’d known it would have stopped you from complaining about all the work it took to move the office.”

  “You know how much I hate change and loved the old building.” Melody looked across the lobby again. “Although the old building never offered us something like that to look at. On the other hand, now that we’re in the same building as our competition, we’ll always have to be careful what we say when we’re …”

  The service elevator door began to close, and Catherine interrupted Melody’s latest reservations about the new office arrangements to yell, “Hold the elevator!” to her staffer Tom.

  But before Tom could hit the “door open” button, Dominic Russo made a graceful move to his left and grabbed the door.

  “Thanks,” Catherine said as she and Melody pushed the dolly into the elevator.

  “Happy to help. Moving’s hard enough without having to wait endlessly for elevators.” He smiled and the temperature in the lobby spiked. “You’re Catherine Bennett, aren’t you? I’m Dominic Russo.”

  “Of course. We’ve actually met …”

  He nodded. “After you spoke at the business roundtable about your firm’s approach to socially responsible marketing and business practices. You had so many people trying to talk to you that day, I didn’t know if you’d remember me. I enjoyed your presentation. When you get settled, maybe you’d consider repeating it to my staff. I don’t imagine I did it justice when I tried to relay the information.”

  Not remember meeting him? Was he kidding? He was impossible to forget.

  If the rumors were to be believed, most of the women in the city would agree. Interesting, because he wasn’t handsome in a classic, young god kind of way. His jawline was a bit too strong and his nose a bit too aquiline for the perfect image of the divine. The bits of silver beginning to show in his thick, dark hair and the lines around his eyes and mouth put him out of the age range of most Hollywood hotties.

  But all that was unimportant compared to the devastating smile currently aimed at Catherine and the deep, dark, espresso brown eyes that seemed to say he knew everything worth knowing about a woman merely by looking at her. Any woman he turned that look on would have her knees melted in two seconds flat with the rest of her quickly following.

  And then there was the body Melody had drooled over. Not to mention the wrapping it came in. Even in Philly’s humid summer heat Mister Sex on Legs looked cool and unruffled. The dark suit he wore fit as if he had grown it like skin, not had it tailored. The accompanying white shirt was crisp and unwrinkled, the dark gold and black paisley print tie in a perfect knot, the matching pocket square precisely placed.

  Catherine, on the other hand, was both ruffled and wrinkled. Her long hair was mostly pulled back into a messy ponytail; her jeans and T-shirt were rumpled and dusty. There were, she was sure, tracks of perspiration running down her neck and arms from helping to load the dolly with the boxes of client records she didn’t trust to the movers. To top it off, she must reek; she hadn’t showered yet today.

  Naturally, Dominic Russo not only looked good, he smelled good. Like a gingerbread man.

  Right. The hot guy smells like Christmas cookies. Nice, Catherine. Not some sensuous fragrance. A kid’s holiday treat. You’re really out of practice, aren’t you?

  She would prefer to think she was relying on food imagery because she’d skipped breakfast, but in truth she was out of practice. Unless he was a client, staff member, or sub-consultant, she hadn’t thought about, dated, or otherwise paid attention to any man,
sexy or otherwise, for a long time. With a business to grow and a teenaged son to raise, she didn’t have time for a social life. At least, that’s what she told her family and friends. What she admitted only to herself was she hadn’t recovered from having her ex-husband leave her for another woman. She wasn’t about to take the chance of having her ego battered again by a man who would use her for what he wanted then move on to the next female who crossed his path.

  Although even at her best, she would have known better than to waste her time thinking about Dominic Russo in any capacity except as someone who did the same thing she did for a living. He was like the statues of perfectly formed men in the art museum. She might like looking at them, but they were blind to women like her, used to lots of attention, and off limits to the masses. He wasn’t for amateurs.

  Come to think of it, though, he was paying attention to her at the moment, waiting for a response to his request. Which was what she should be thinking about instead of mentally concocting some weird thought mixture of art museums, marble statues, and Christmas cookies. If she didn’t say something soon, he was going to think she was an idiot.

  Finally she got out, “I’d be happy to talk to your staff. But you’re right; it’ll have to be after we get ourselves settled.”

  “Not to worry. We’ll be here when you’re ready.” As he let go of the door, he flashed another of his heat-inducing smiles, which Catherine was sure could not only melt knees but also the hooks on a bra. Lord, even her perfectly straight copywriter Tom was blushing from its high wattage. And Melody was speechless, for the first time in all the years Catherine had known her.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake, she wanted to say to her staff as the elevator began to rise to the tenth floor. We don’t have time for this. We have an office to get set up and clients to attend to.

  • • •

  Dominic hadn’t been in his office more than fifteen minutes when Edie Martin, his creative director, stormed in.

  “What were you thinking, Dominic, letting The Bennett Group lease space in our building? Do you really think it’s wise to have that group of newbie pretenders eavesdropping in the elevator every day when they’re the biggest threat to our business?”

  “It’s Bennett and Associates, Edie. If you’re going to complain about them, at least get the name right. And I’d hardly call them ‘newbie pretenders.’ They’re one of the up and coming PR firms in the city. Everyone in the industry is talking about their approach as cutting edge.”

  “Why are you letting them in our building where they can spy on us and steal our clients?”

  “It’s not ‘our’ building. It’s my building.” He took the papers she’d been waving around as she spoke. “Catherine Bennett’s firm has all the qualifications to be a good tenant, and I’ve had a hard time filling the space the engineering firm left when it moved. Besides, we already have several other threats to our business, as you describe them, in the building and we’ve been fine.”

  “But the other communications firms aren’t—she’s the one—they’re the people who’ve been getting too much of the work we should have gotten.”

  “We have more than enough clients to keep us busy. And we’re on track to have the most profitable year in a decade. I’m not worried Bennett and Associates will listen in on our plans through the HVAC system and we’ll go under.” He could see she was not responding to his attempts to make light of her concerns. “Why don’t you think of it another way—now we have all our strongest competitors in one place so we can watch them.”

  Edie’s face brightened a bit. “Oh, I never thought of it that way. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s a brilliant plan. I hope so, Dominic.”

  “Now, other than to bitch about Catherine Bennett what brought you to my office this lovely Monday?”

  When Edie left, the thought of Catherine Bennett didn’t go with her. Dominic’s morning encounter with Ms. Bennett had been a welcome start to the day. In spite of being a bit sweaty and in clothes miles away from the stylish suit she’d worn the first time he’d met her, she was stunning. Her olive skin and her dark chocolate brown hair and eyes, which didn’t fit with her WASP-y name, had intrigued him from the first. Still did, even though now he knew from a little background research that her coloring was from an Italian heritage as deep as his own. And there wasn’t a man alive—well, a straight one—who wouldn’t fantasize about the luscious curves even moving-day clothes couldn’t hide. She wasn’t some stick-thin model who served as a hanger for the latest designer’s ideas of fashion. She had the body of a real woman. A real woman with considerable ability and the drive to take her firm all the way to success. It was quite a combination.

  Dominic had wanted to get to know Catherine Bennett ever since he’d seen her give her presentation. Mostly he’d wanted to see if she was as smart and interesting one-on-one as she’d sounded on the dais. And he wouldn’t mind finding out if she was as sexy in a more intimate situation as she was when she walked across a room in her pencil skirt and stilettos. He was bored to tears with the business dates he’d been stuck with for what seemed like an eternity. Catherine Bennett looked, sounded, and acted different.

  And it wouldn’t hurt to size up the woman who was making such a splash in his industry. Mixing business and pleasure was what he did on a regular basis. Most of his recent social life, including the women he escorted to the theater or dinner, had been more about marketing his business than about anything personal. At least if he were doing the mixing with Ms. Bennett, he might actually enjoy what he felt he had to do to keep his company on top.

  A fixture in public relations and advertising in Philadelphia for more years than Dominic cared to think about, The Russo Group was the biggest, the most highly regarded, most sought after communications firm in the city. Catherine Bennett had only been on the scene for a half dozen or so years, but she’d made a name for herself in a niche he’d never thought about—marketing and advertising for socially responsible companies who wanted to do more than make a profit at any price. He admired someone who could find a new facet to a business he thought he knew cold and owned outright.

  He’d told Edie the truth about how he viewed Bennett and Associates—there was plenty of business for both of them. But the fact was, relocating to the building where the big boys played meant Catherine Bennett was moving up in his world. It wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on her.

  Or was he making business excuses to do what he wanted to do for personal reasons? And did it matter anyway?

  • • •

  “Ah … Catherine, someone’s here to see you.” Melody’s voice sounded confused or nervous. Something. Certainly not like her usual self.

  “I don’t have anything on my calendar, do I? Who is it?”

  “He’s not on your calendar. And he’s on his way back now.” The call ended abruptly. Very unlike her usually efficient office administrator. And why was she working the phones anyway?

  Catherine put down the phone and looked up as Mister Sex on Legs sauntered into her office. That explained it.

  “Mister … ah … Dominic. What a nice surprise. What can I do for you?” Catherine tried to be more calm and collected than Melody had been. All she could really be was grateful she had an important client meeting later in the day and had worn her favorite cobalt blue suit, the one she knew was flattering to both her figure and her coloring. Because to hold her own in the same room with this visitor who always looked like he’d stepped out of GQ took the best she had.

  Dominic Russo must have a closet the size of Rhode Island. In the two weeks she’d been in the building, she couldn’t remember seeing him in the same suit twice. Not that she was keeping track. Okay, yes, she was keeping track. She didn’t know why, but she was.

  Today’s suit was a navy pinstripe number with a white dress shirt and a light blue patterned tie that looked like a William Morris print. A white pocket square peeked out of the pocket over his well-toned pecs. The man knew how to dress. And call attention
to his assets.

  Oh, for God’s sake. Pay attention to something other than his body, Bennett. What is wrong with you, anyway? You don’t behave like this.

  She forced herself to stop staring at his chest and glanced around the room, hoping her office made a good impression. It looked tidy, at least. Although her artwork hadn’t been hung yet, all the furniture was in place: her glass-topped desk and small conference table, the cozy little couch covered in a bright red fabric, the Herman Miller Aeron chair for her, and a visitor’s chair next to her desk.

  “I wanted to make sure you’d gotten settled,” Dominic said. “Although from looking around, I’d say you’ve done more in the past two weeks than many people manage to do in a month. Your artwork in the reception area is stunning, by the way, especially the image of the woman. I like it. Local artist?”

  “Yes, a woman named Jamie Lutz. Thanks for noticing.”

  “I hope everything about the space was the way you wanted it to be when you moved in.”

  His interest puzzled her. “Does the building owner hire you to check on all the new tenants this way?”

  “You didn’t know I’m the building owner?”

  She was sure her surprise was visible. “I thought the owner was DR Investments Limited.”

  He said nothing, seeming to wait for the penny to drop.

  Which it did. “Oh, DR. Dominic Russo. Dear God, how could I have been so obtuse.”

  “You’re anything but obtuse. I’m sure there are other tenants who don’t know. The management company that handles all the transactions doesn’t advertise it, and neither do I.”

  “But if I’d done my due diligence, I’d have found out. I didn’t dig very deep, obviously. When the agent showed me the space and told me the price, I was so excited I didn’t do much other than talk to some of your other tenants. All of them, by the way, raved about the building and the management, in case you wondered.”

  “Good to hear. And I’m happy you’re settling in so well.” He motioned to the chair next to her desk, which she took to be asking if he could sit.