Life is good for Lauren Taylor.  Her company, recently listed on the stock exchange, is sought after for its unique innovations and she is becoming recognized in business circles.  After nine grueling years, everything she's worked for has come together...until Sean Coleman threatens to take it away.

But Sean Coleman wants more than the Taylor Company--he wants Lauren.  And he's a man used to getting what he wants.

Lauren Taylor lifted her chin. "Look at him. We'll never pull this off."

"It'll work," her vice president, Ashley Carmichael, assured her with her usual overconfidence.

"What? Lying?" Lauren peered through the mirrored window into her own conference room of Taylor & Company. Soft lights with dark green leaded glass were lit at each corner. The carpet's understated floral pattern was more representative of an old fashioned library than a place of business. It was a serene pleasant atmosphere that Lauren had worked hard to maintain.

But now the air was charged with tension. At the polished mahogany table sat lawyers and staff from her own company and from that of Coleman Enterprises. Others stalked the room.

"Stalling for time," Ashley said. "That's all we need today, just a little time to regroup."

Lauren thought they'd need more than that but kept that to herself.

They both watched in silence the way the president of Coleman Enterprises towered above his staff as he leaned against the wall, hands thrust deep in the pockets of his designer trousers. Lauren's last scrap of confidence dissolved as she studied the man noted for his ruthless takeovers, because the next company he had chosen to target was hers.

"He looks dangerous," Ashley murmured then frowned.

Lauren nodded. She could see it for herself. His crisp white shirt contrasted nicely with ebony hair that was expertly cut and combed smoothly off his face. She would bet he left nothing to chance.

"It could be worse," Ashley said. "Look at the tall blond, the one who looks more like an athlete than a business man?" Her gaze lingered on him. "He looks amused."

"How is that worse?"

"I don't know. I'm reaching."

Lauren groaned. "I know he'll recognize me." Though it had been just one day and so long ago, she remembered well the feel of strong arms sweeping her up, carrying her safely into the house.

"You were eleven years old," Ashley said. "I doubt you made much of an impression."

Lauren tugged at the hem of her power business suit. "Let's hope I didn't so he doesn't make the connection. But the man's not stupid. Even if I succeed in holding my own today, he'll eventually figure out that I was the little girl he rescued that day."

Ashley tucked a strand of thick blond hair behind one ear. "Actually, that may work in your favor, may evoke some empathy. That is, if the man has any. And your company is probably of little consequence to him anyway, simply a paper transaction."

"That's what I don't get. Why is he even at such an insignificant meeting?"

Lauren sighed. She hated this. Give her a spreadsheet and data, a nice statistical analysis, and she could come up with a viable plan in hours, but place her wits against a live human being and she was lost.

She turned back to her adversary and studied the way his eyes roved, staking out his territory, awaiting the kill; just the type of man she'd always avoided socially. But this was much worse. If he bought fifty percent of her stock, he would be her partner in business. She'd be no match for him. She held her breath, warding off the wave of hiccups threatening to erupt.

"What's important," Ashley said, "is that you remain professional. You're good, Lauren, damned good - when it comes to business."

Lauren flicked lint off her skirt in rapid clicks.

Ashley grabbed her hands. "You can do this, Lauren."

Now even Ashley, who Lauren could always count on to keep her cool, was panicking.

But it was no wonder. It had been a week of hell.

Lauren glanced down at the postcard discarded on her desk. It had arrived Monday from her sister, Jessica. Milan, Italy, this time. Along with her usual greetings, she mentioned that she was selling her half of their inherited retail company.

Dumfounded, Lauren and Ashley, nevertheless, had managed to get Coleman's representatives to agree to a preliminary meeting before the sale went through. They never expected Coleman himself to show up.

"Look at me." Ashley took Lauren by the shoulders. "You've got to show him you're a force to be reckoned with, not someone who will roll over and let him take charge of your business. Persuade him it isn't worth his trouble. At least delay this thing until we can kill your sister--"

"Let's leave my sister out of this for now." She peeled off Ashley's fingers and steered her towards the door. "Okay. Let's do this. You go first, then I'll follow."

Lauren watched Ashley enter and make her way toward the conference table. Apparently, his staff took it as a cue to take their places at the table. The Black Panther, however, simply watched and continued to hold up the wall.

When Lauren finally entered, before her toe could even clear the threshold, she saw him push off the wall and come at her in long strides, a determined look on his face. She almost did an about face.

She froze instead. A few feet inside the door. In a matter of seconds, he loomed up, standing too close, cornering her, his size blocking out the comforting view of her staff.

"Ms. Taylor?" Even his voice was commanding. A rich baritone that resonated through the room.

She looked up his length, determined to meet his gaze squarely even though being just shy of 5'2" made it difficult. But what was more challenging was something for which she was wholly unprepared: The warmth of his clear blue eyes.

"Mr. Coleman." She gave a polite smile, offering her hand. "We finally meet."

He took her hand, studying her with unnerving intensity. "We've already met, Ms. Taylor."

Her mind raced for a suitable response. "I..." She pulled on her hand, but he held on and then had the nerve to run his thumb over the base of her knuckle. She decided to feign confusion, as though she didn't recognize him, unlike every other female in the country.

"I think you're mistaken, Mr. Coleman." She held out hope that maybe he didn't remember her exactly but simply recognized the name.

He laughed softly. "I'm rarely mistaken. But it was a long time ago and now without my lawn mover...and this time"-- he raised a brow - "I'm wearing a shirt."

At the mention of his shirt a memory returned with alarming clarity of her being cradled against a bronze chest. 

He dipped and whispered in her ear, "It's been awhile, button."

Oh, mercy! When she frowned up at him, he was looking past her at the large framed watercolor of her family's house in the suburbs hanging on the wall. He tapped his finger against the glass, pointing to the tiny array of purple flowers along the stone walkway of the white-bricked rancher. "I planted those," he said with a smile, apparently comfortable with his modest roots. But she reminded herself that he was equally at ease devouring large corporations.

"I recognized you immediately." His mouth twitched. "Your freckles are a dead give away."

Wonderful. His blue eyes crinkled with pleasure. She was almost drawn in by him until she remembered that her very future was at stake. By all accounts this man was one smooth operator, and she had learned the hard way not to be taken in by charmers.

"I see," she said, trying to get by him. "Please, let me introduce you to my staff." To her astonishment, he blocked her path. She found herself practically up against the wall. He had nerve, she'd give him that.

"We don't need our staff, Lauren. Tell me why you requested this meeting. Are you hoping to up the price?" He gave an amused frown.

She was getting annoyed with his apparent entertainment over her quandary. Her company stock might be small potatoes for him but it was all that she had. "I don't want you to buy my stock at all."

"What's wrong with my money?"

"It's not your money, it's you...that is..." She tried to see over his shoulder, hoping somehow Ashley would rescue her. "My staff will explain options more favorable than buying the entire fifty percent," she said hastily, trying unsuccessfully to escape him. She wanted to give him a shove but thought it a bit unprofessional and the point was to get him to back off and agree to a delay.

She peered over his shoulder and saw his attorney studying them, a beautiful blond. With a subtle shift of his weight, Coleman blocked her view. The buzz in the room quieted. "I think everyone's waiting for us."

"Let them wait." He studied her. "What options." He grabbed her hand again, but she snapped it back. Maybe she would give him that shove. It wouldn't be any more unprofessional than he was being now. She supposed he was used to touching women without protest, but she suspected the subtle gesture was a ploy to control her and she was not going to fall for it.

She gathered her confidence. "If your position is to take control of my company, Mr. Coleman, you have badly misjudged me."   

His eyes brightened. "Is that right ... Ms. Taylor."

"I haven't spent nine grueling years chartering this company just to have you strip me of my power." She straightened, practically standing on tiptoes.

His eyes dropped. "I can see that."

His gaze continued along her throat, probably locating her jugular vein.

No problem, she'd take him on. She and Ashley.

"Actually"--he touched his jacket button- "Ms. Taylor." He gave a deferential nod. "I'm not sure what my position is. The sale of your stock came up suddenly and I'm not sure how the changes will be handled. I'm thinking I need some time before the transfer of stock takes place."

She hesitated. Why would he do that? She cautioned herself against a quick response. It was just too good to be true.

He studied her quietly, holding her gaze, unblinking. The blue of his eyes darkened to midnight.

"Time?"

He nodded.

She cleared her throat. "I see." It might be a trick but for now it was exactly what they needed. She gave a curt nod. "That would be fine, Mr. Coleman."

He raised a brow. "I thought it might ... Ms. Taylor."

His gaze lingered a moment before he turned to the conference table. With a bare inclination of his head, his staff jumped up and snapped their briefcases. When he turned back to her, a gleam surfaced in his eye. He gave her a brief nod before he stepped aside and exited the room.

After he disappeared through the door and she was sure he was gone, she safely released an audible breath.