Worth the Challenge Read online

  Dedication

  To all of you who’ve waited patiently for Rhett’s book—I hope you love him as much as I do.

  Chapter One

  “It’s been two months since we last heard any details on the project. Tell us what’s going on.”

  Rhett Worth swallowed hard, kept his gaze trained on the report before him. The bogus, full-of-filler-words report he’d had his assistant type up for him so he’d at least look semi-prepared for this meeting.

  The truth? He didn’t have anything to update them on. He was, in plain terms, an epic failure.

  Blinking slowly, he tried to focus on the words before him, but they blurred, his vision swimming. Panic rose swiftly, threatening to choke him. How the hell could he admit he’d somehow screwed up the one and only project his brothers had ever given him?

  “Everything’s in place,” he finally said. The lie fell easily from his lips and he hated that.

  The quiet that stretched on for what felt like forever was damning. Rhett refused to elaborate, afraid he might screw it up even more.

  “That’s exactly what you said two months ago.” Hunter’s voice was cold as ice. Rhett didn’t need to glance up to know Hunter’s current expression. He could see his older brother’s face in his rather vivid imagination.

  Eyes dark, jaw hard, lips firm, disgust written all over his familiar features. A look Hunter had worn countless, endless times before, all while looking straight at Rhett.

  His older brother thought—no, knew—he was a fuckup.

  “Are you having a difficult time with the project?” Alex asked, full of the usual brotherly concern. As the oldest, Alex felt the need to take care of Rhett, had a sense of responsibility toward his baby brother as a sort of father figure. Whereas Hunter’s greatest wish was to see him hung out to dry.

  Looked like Rhett was about to make all of Hunter’s wishes come true.

  “Listen.” Rhett finally dared to lift his head, saw his brothers watching him carefully. He needed to tell the truth. Thank God it was a private meeting, no other employees involved. His utter humiliation and ultimate failure as an executive at Worth Luxury was about to go down, but at least it was happening on a relatively small scale. “I can’t get a hold of the perfumer.”

  “What do you mean?” Alex asked with a frown.

  “I mean that despite my numerous inquiries, I haven’t spoken to him since we originally brokered the deal.” Rhett released a shuddering breath, frustration coursing through his veins, turning his blood ice cold. How he hated admitting defeat, especially when he’d promised he could deliver.

  “You had legal send him a contract, right? He hasn’t sent it back? You haven’t even talked to Durand? The project was supposed to be out of the planning stages three weeks ago.” Fury edged Hunter’s voice. “So what you’re telling us is that it’s at a complete standstill?”

  He met Hunter’s gaze, saw the censure there. The disappointment mixed with anger. “I’m afraid so.”

  Hunter pounded the edge of the boardroom table so hard it shook. “I knew you’d do something like this!” He turned to Alex. “I told you he’d fuck it up.”

  “I didn’t fuck it up,” Rhett retorted. “It’s not my fault the perfumer is an eccentric old man who hides away in a little shack and doesn’t believe in modern technological devices.”

  “You’re just talking out your ass,” Hunter started, but Alex held up a hand to silence him.

  “Stop berating him, Hunter. It’s useless. And Rhett has a point.”

  Shock washed over Rhett. He had a point? He’d been fully prepared to admit he was a Grade A screwup. “I do?”

  Alex smiled patiently, ignoring the fuming Hunter. “Michel Durand is a known recluse. He hasn’t created a scent for anyone in the last five years. That’s why I was so shocked you were able to talk to him and convince him to work with us. Apparently, he’s reverted to his usual habits.” Alex shrugged. “Find someone new.”

  “Oh, it’s as easy as that? ‘Find someone new’,” Hunter mimicked, then shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re letting him get away with this.”

  Rhett flipped over the single sheet of paper of his bogus report and scribbled a few names, his mind awhirl with the list of perfumers he’d come up with when they’d originally discussed the project. “I’ll get on the phone right away.”

  “Why didn’t you do this sooner? Maybe, say, two weeks ago, when you realized Durand wasn’t responding to you?” Hunter asked snidely.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Alex interrupted. “He knows how much I wanted Durand working for us. What a coup it could’ve been. We would’ve had the entire fashion industry green with envy by snagging him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be.”

  Hunter glanced between the two of them as if they were alien subjects recently beamed down from their spaceship. “I’ll never get you two,” he finally said. “If I would’ve screwed up like this, you would’ve had my heart on a platter.”

  “That is not true and you know it,” Alex retorted.

  Rhett would never get Hunter either. He thought falling in love would unwind his brother a bit, make him softer. Love and marriage had certainly done that for Alex. He looked like a lovesick puppy every time he talked about his wife, Tessa, or their daughter, Charlotte.

  Yeah, Hunter was crazy for Gracie, that was plain as day. And he indulged his new baby boy like any pleased parent would, but he still acted like a major asshole.

  Well, Hunter acted like a major asshole toward Rhett.

  A soft knock sounded on the door before it cracked open, Alex’s assistant, Margo, poking her head inside. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but there’s a woman here who’s insistent she see Mr. Worth right away.”

  “Which one?” Hunter asked with a wry smile.

  Margo blushed, shaking her head when Alex started to stand. “I’m so sorry, not you, Alex. She’s asking for Rhett.”

  His brothers’ heads swiveled in his direction. “What, you got a mysterious baby mama coming around here looking for money or what?” Hunter asked under his breath.

  “Shut the hell up,” Rhett whispered harshly. “Like you have any room to talk.” He would never, ever live his party days down, no matter how hard he tried to forget them. They’d be ninety, living in a nursing home together, and Hunter would probably still bring up his old, notorious ways.

  He hated how he wore his past like a cloak of shame.

  “Hunter, please.” Alex’s voice was full of irritation. “Did she leave a name?” His big brother was the only professional one out of the three. Considering he was the CEO, it made sense, but still.

  They were reverting to old hurts and sibling rivalries like it was yesterday.

  “Yes. Her name is Gabriella Durand.”

  “Durand?” Rhett frowned. The name sounded familiar… Of course it did, she was Michel Durand’s daughter.

  Margo nodded. “What would you like for me to tell her?”

  “Tell her I’ll be right out.”

  “Michel’s daughter,” Alex said the moment his assistant shut the door. “She’s a perfumer as well.”

  “Really?” Hunter asked. “Huh, so we can get the daughter to respond but not her father? How much experience does she have?”

  “Five years professionally, but she’s worked at her father’s side pretty much all her life,” Rhett explained.

  Hunter’s brows rose. “Interesting. If she’s anything like her old man…”

  “Why is she here?” Alex asked. “Did you contact her? She might be the perfect alternative.”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yes, I contacted her.” The lie came easily, smoothly falling from Rhett’s lips yet again. Whereas only minutes before, he was re
ady to confess he was a complete failure, now he had an out. A chance to look good, like he knew what the hell he was doing and could save this project instead of handing it over to Hunter. “That’s why she’s here. We’re going to meet and discuss the new perfume project. I figured it was logical to go for the next best thing, you know? Keep it in the family.”

  “Smart thinking,” Alex murmured, clearly pleased. “Well, we don’t want to keep you. You should go.”

  “If you made an appointment to talk with her, why didn’t you realize she’d be here at this time?” Hunter asked. A shrewd gleam shone in his eyes.

  “Uh, I spoke to her but we weren’t able to confirm any sort of meeting just yet. Though she had mentioned she’d be in New York soon,” Rhett answered, both impressed and disgusted at his ability to make stuff up out of nothing.

  “Maybe we should sit in on this meeting,” Hunter suggested when Rhett stood.

  Dread slithered down his spine. He’d be found out in an instant. And wouldn’t that give Hunter major satisfaction?

  “Let him take care of it on his own,” Alex said. “He’s clearly got it handled.”

  “Yeah, right.” Rhett heard Hunter snort as he left the conference room.

  Rhett had the distinct feeling that Hunter was closer to the truth than he cared to admit.

  She couldn’t sit, too nervous, too fidgety to keep still. Instead, Ella paced the plush lobby, admiring the giant photos that hung on the wall. They were from the latest Worth Luxury campaign, taken in stark black and white. The models’ simple poses against a white backdrop were elegant in their simplicity, showcasing the luxurious leather bags, the awe-inspiring boots, the cashmere scarves wrapped in casual elegance around their long, aristocratic necks.

  Mid-summer and she was looking at a fall/winter scene. Fashion never made much sense to her.

  But fragrance? Scents? Formulas and synthetics, natural oils and the precise mathematical calculations that brought them all together into a cohesive juice? Ah, they all made absolute, perfect sense—at least in her mind.

  The secretary caught her eye yet again, offering her a sympathetic smile which Ella returned, feeling pathetic. Leave it to her father to place her in a horribly uncomfortable position. He squandered the chance of a lifetime, could’ve created an iconic women’s fragrance for Worth Luxury. When she’d realized exactly what he’d done, she’d been livid.

  And she’d promptly booked a trip to New York via train to see if the opportunity was still available. She hadn’t called, hadn’t even thought to write a simple email to confirm they’d see her or listen to what she might propose. She hadn’t considered what she might say to Rhett Worth once she met with him face-to-face either.

  Oh, she’d heard all about him in the tabloids. He was a bad boy. A rogue, wicked with the ladies, the youngest of the Worth brothers and therefore the one who didn’t take on much responsibility. Though she had to admit, he appeared less in the tabloids and gossip blogs than he used to. When she’d found her father’s notes and Rhett’s name listed as the project manager and contact, she’d been surprised.

  Maybe he had finally taken on some responsibility within the family business.

  Not that it was any of her concern or business. She didn’t know him and certainly couldn’t judge. She was just a simple girl who’d rather work in a lab or out amongst nature, breaking down components in natural scents and recreating them in little vials. Her father was brilliant, an acclaimed perfumer who people in the fashion and beauty industry still clamored for. He’d taught her well, she’d worked at his elbow from the time she was a little girl, but she was still learning.

  She would most likely be forever learning and the thought of that made her a little giddy inside.

  “Miss Durand?”

  The velvety deep voice had her whirling around, stopping short when she realized who stood directly in front of her.

  Rhett Worth, in the flesh.

  Oh, and what glorious flesh he was made of. Immaculately turned out in a charcoal-gray suit that emphasized the broadness of his shoulders, the width of his chest, his dark brown hair pushed off his forehead, he looked as if he had walked straight off the Worth Luxury billboard she’d seen in Times Square on her taxi ride over.

  “I—I’m Gabriella Durand,” she stuttered, silently cursing herself. She couldn’t lose it now, not in front of this man. He held all the power to her future and he didn’t even know it.

  He smiled, the sight of it making her knees wobble. “Rhett Worth. A pleasure to meet you,” he said, thrusting his hand toward her.

  She took it, noticed how his large hand completely engulfed hers as he gave it a polite shake. The buzz from his touch was like an electric jolt to her system and she tilted her head, inhaling discreetly. Her head immediately swam.

  Goodness, he smelled positively divine. A subtle mixture of ingredients, possibly leather, faint cologne, his own uniquely masculine scent…

  Stay focused!

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” she murmured, gasping softly when he released his hold of her hand. “I’m sorry for dropping in so unexpectedly, it’s just that—”

  “Your timing is perfect,” he interrupted, glancing about the lobby quickly before he faced her once more. “It couldn’t have been better, actually. Do you have time to talk? Now?”

  She nodded, a little dazed at how easily it was all unfolding. “Yes, I do. That’s why I’m here.”

  The smile grew even more dazzling, and her senses went on immediate overload. They’d only just met but he needed to stop being so…recklessly charming. “Perfect,” he repeated in a low murmur.

  A shiver rippled down her spine. Amazing how he made the word sound downright sinful.

  “There’s a small conference room down the hall.” He placed his hand at the small of her back, gently guiding her toward the doorway which led to the hall he spoke of. “Would you care for anything to drink?”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.” His good manners, combined with his extreme good looks, made for a heady package. His fingers seemed to burn through the fabric of her dress, even with such a light touch. She was hyper aware of his nearness, the heat of his skin, the size of him since he towered over her.

  Ella frowned. She needed to get her head out of the clouds and focus on the most important meeting of her life. She needed to convince Rhett Worth she could take her father’s place and become the in-house perfumer for Worth Luxury.

  But would he take her seriously? No one else seemed to. They all wanted her father instead of her and merely seemed to tolerate her. The jobs she’d acquired weren’t nearly as prestigious as she wished for. Hence the reason for wanting this particular job with Worth.

  It would establish her firmly as a respected player in the perfumer industry.

  “Here we are.” He stopped, his hand dropping away from her back as he reached for the handle and held the door open for her. She entered the room, admiring the vintage Worth Luxury magazine advertisements framed on the wall, the plush leather seats that surrounded the sleek black table. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

  She did as he asked, setting her purse on the floor by her feet before she rested her hands on the cool tabletop. He sat directly across from her, his movements smooth, efficient, and he mirrored her position. The sleeve of his jacket rose, revealing the large stainless-steel watch he wore around his wrist.

  It was by Worth—she recognized the iconic design immediately. And she knew it cost more than she could imagine making.

  “How is your father?” His words, his face were one of complete and utter concern.

  “I want to apologize for his lack of communication. It was very rude of him and I’m sorry.” He’d gotten right to the point, hadn’t he? She’d hoped to dance around the subject of her father for at least a few minutes. “As he gets older, he becomes more…eccentric.” Why did it feel like she’d spent her entire life apologizing for her father and his odd ways?

  He nodded as if he
understood. “He’s somewhat of a mythical legend amongst the designers and luxury houses in the industry.”

  She smiled. It was true. Her father had quite the reputation for being an utter recluse. “He prefers anonymity when he works, doesn’t like others to disturb him.”

  “That’s why it was such a surprise when he agreed to work for Worth.”

  “I agree.” She couldn’t begin to explain the downward spiral Michel Durand had taken upon making that verbal agreement with Worth. He’d gone into complete shutdown mode, squirreling himself away in the small laboratory he’d built on the property near his house years ago. Muttering to himself, talking of elements and scents and scribbling copious notes that meant nothing to anyone else who tried to read them.

  All of it had been for naught. He’d never spoken to anyone from Worth Luxury again. Despite the calls, the certified letters and packages full of thick contracts, the voicemail messages, he ignored them all, bringing forth humiliation and censure upon the Durand name yet again.

  Ella was the closest person to her father and yet she didn’t understand him. She never really had.

  “I’m not going to ask what happened. It’s none of my business,” he said briskly, sweeping the uncomfortable topic right under the virtual rug. “Just know that we at Worth Luxury are sorry we couldn’t come to a formal agreement with your father. We would’ve loved to have worked with him.”

  She nodded slowly, recognizing a rejection when she received one. He was merely being kind. Patting her on the head, telling her how sorry he was that it didn’t work out, and then he’d escort her right out of the iconic Worth building. Leave her standing on the sidewalk like the worthless perfumer’s apprentice she really was. “I’m sure he feels the same. Thank you for your time,” she said weakly, pushing back her chair so she could stand.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded when she gripped the arms of the chair, her body halfway out of it.

  “I—I thought we were done.” Her cheeks hot with embarrassment, she plopped back down into the chair, the incredulous expression on his face shocking her silent. He wanted to talk more?