It was like she had to reiterate that he was indeed the owner so the information would sink into her stubborn brain.
“I didn’t realize I was such a mystery you were hoping to solve.” He smiled, but when she only scowled back, he let the smile drop.
He was lying. Hell yeah, he’d made sure no one knew who he was when he bought the property. Not that he’d been trying to entice Willow in any way—that ended up pure dumb luck. His favorite place in the whole damn world was the Monterey Bay.
Funny how he owned exactly what little Miss Spitfire was trying to move into at this very moment. Lease price was too high, though. He knew her problem with it, since Frank called him last week letting him know what the meeting was about. She was here in the hopes she could try and talk him down.
Nick had come prepared with just the solution. He knew Willow was going to hit the ceiling when she heard his idea, but he had to try. Had to.
His methods might be controversial but fuck it.
“If I could hit you right now, I so would.”
Willow’s voice tore him straight out of his thoughts. Blinking, he focused on the angry woman sitting beside him. She did look ready to punch him, if her clenched fists were any indication.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he drawled, sounding a lot more sure than he felt.
She nodded furiously, all that pretty dark hair sliding down her back. Damn, she captivated him like no other. “Don’t tempt me.”
He arched a brow. Rather apt choice of words. “Listen, I’m not trying to pull something over on you or anything. It’s a coincidence, pure and simple.”
“Coincidence.” She spit the word out. “Feels more like a set up.”
“Not quite. I consider myself lucky you fell so spectacularly into my lap.” He grinned.
“If you pull me into your lap, I swear to God I’ll punch you so hard in the balls you’ll see stars,” she threatened.
His grin falling away, he turned his attention to Frank, who sat silent, gaping like a fish as he watched them, his head bouncing back and forth as if he were at a tennis match. “Frank, my friend, could you do us a favor and let us have a private moment, please?”
“Absolutely. You two take your time.” Frank hightailed it out of the room so fast the door shut behind him before he could get the last word out.
Willow stood the moment Frank was gone, staring down at Nick with so much irritation in her gaze he wondered if she’d burn him on the spot. “How dare you play games with me. This is my business, my future. And here you sit, as rich as can be, holding everything I could ever want in your hands without a care in the world.”
He leaned back in his seat, sprawling his legs in front of him so that his feet were planted on either side of Willow. He wanted her closer. He wished he could jerk her into his lap and drown in that sweet-tasting mouth of hers but she’d cut him where he sat, so he kept a semi-safe distance between them. “You’re just as rich,” he pointed out.
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, gimme a break. Daddy Cavanaugh cut you off or what? You got money, Will. I know you do.” He cocked a brow and twisted his lips in a shitty little smirk that she’d most likely hate, deliberately provoking her.
“I refuse to accept any help from my father. I want to do this on my own.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, lifting her nose in the air—all haughty, gorgeous princess. “I started this business with nothing. On a total whim, I might add, as a favor to friends. How was I supposed to know I could make a career out of making cotton candy? But I did. And it just took off. Trust me, he’s tried to help, but I refused him. More than once.”
“Why would you do that?” Nick had always admired her spunk. She found something she wanted, she went after it. Once upon a time, he’d been the one she wanted, and she came right after him—not that he’d given her much of a challenge. He still wasn’t a challenge when it came to Willow.
Too damn bad she was the one who now challenged him on a constant basis. Frustrated the hell out of him, too. If he could get her to give in one time, he’d be set.
“I want respect. I can do this. All of it. This is my business, all mine. I don’t want anyone, specifically my father, funding any part of it.” She cleared her throat. He knew whose respect she was looking for—her parents’. What with her too busy daddy and neglectful mama, the girl had been surrounded by nothing but shitty role models her entire life. How she turned out so driven and smart, he hadn’t a clue.
“Well, I respect the hell out of you for trying this on your own.” He saw the flicker of pleasure in her gaze at his words. Damn if he didn’t want to see that again.
“Thank you,” she murmured, settling in her chair once again, her knees brushing against his leg. His cock twitched, and he wanted to groan.
She looked at him wrong and he was sporting wood. One innocent touch and he might do something really embarrassing.
“So Will, it looks like I have something you want.” He rested his arm on the edge of the table, contemplating her.
She stared back, her expression neutral. “You do.”
“Well, guess what? You have something I want.” He tipped his head toward her. “And I’m hoping you’ll be real agreeable to my suggestion.”