Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | At Her Boss′s Pleasure

At Her Boss's Pleasure
CATHY WILLIAMS


The Alpha and the Innocent…Raised by a mother who traded on her looks, buttoned-up accountant Kate Watson is determined to be respected for her brains and not her beauty! But working side by side with her notorious billionaire boss Alessandro Preda leaves Kate rattled!Alessandro is intrigued by virginal Kate. He’s used to women flaunting their curves in front of him – not trying to hide them! He will relish the fresh challenge of unleashing the volcano of sensuality he senses within her.Yet neither is prepared for what happens when one pleasurable night is nowhere near enough…Discover more at www.millsandboon.co.uk/cathywilliams







‘Now, here’s the strategic difference between us,’ Alessandro drawled softly. ‘I haven’t abandoned having fun in favour of some never-never dream of perfection that won’t be happening.’

‘I haven’t done that!’

‘No? So when was the last time you had sex?’

‘I … Well …’

‘When was the last time you just let go, Kate …? Here’s what I’m thinking: that tonight was probably the first time in years that you went out in something other than the sort of clothes someone’s great-aunt would be proud to be seen in …’

‘That’s not fair,’ she whispered, stung—because it was true … horribly, mortifyingly true.

‘It may not be fair, but it’s true. When was the last time you felt anything but a need to work and prove yourself? It’s a dry life.’

‘It’s—’

‘Dry, sterile … You’re hiding away from emotion, waiting for the Big Thing to happen, and in the meantime life’s passing you by.’

‘It’s not all about sex …’

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. She could read the intent in his eyes and she knew that he was going to kiss her. And she wanted him to. She wanted him to with every fibre of her sex-starved being … even if it made no sense.


CATHY WILLIAMS can remember reading Mills and Boon


books as a teenager, and now that she is writing them she remains an avid fan. For her, there is nothing like creating romantic stories and engaging plots, and each and every book is a new adventure. Cathy lives in London and her three daughters, Charlotte, Olivia and Emma, have always been and continue to be the greatest inspiration in her life.


At Her Boss’s Pleasure

Cathy Williams




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Contents

Cover (#u720bbb0c-a236-5734-91d8-090b765e02a7)

Introduction (#u0fd88fdb-cdd7-5ab0-91d7-d6ee2b5292aa)

About the Author (#ua785b881-c3e7-5f20-a748-aff2f3144990)

Title Page (#ub5a837a7-4078-5844-9b48-d4596185bd66)

CHAPTER ONE (#u61f9bd35-1743-5dcd-a0ed-fde8163e3b52)

CHAPTER TWO (#udac055d7-6a79-5fd2-a628-2a2717bf7b9f)

CHAPTER THREE (#u3f83d196-a229-52db-bf06-a70e33e7c537)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_4550e6f4-29a2-522d-b8a4-b11d806edad6)

FRIDAY. END OF JULY. Six-thirty in the evening...

And where, Kate thought, am I? Still in the office. She was the last man standing. Or sitting, in actual fact. At her desk, with the computer flickering in front of her and profit and loss columns demanding attention. Not immediate attention—nothing that couldn’t wait until the following Monday morning—but...

She sighed and sat back, stretching out the knots in her shoulders, and for a few minutes allowed herself to get lost in thought.

She was twenty-seven years old and she knew where she should be right now—and it wasn’t in the office. Even if it was a very nice office, in a more-than-very-nice building, in the prestigious heart of London.

In fact she should be anywhere but here.

She should be out enjoying herself, lazing around in Hyde Park with friends, drinking wine and luxuriating in the long, hot summer. Or having a barbecue in a back garden somewhere. Or maybe just sitting inside, with some music on in the background and a significant other discussing his day and asking about hers.

She blinked and the vision of possibilities vanished. Since moving to London four years ago she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of close friends she had managed to make, and since qualifying as an accountant and joining AP Logistics a year and a half ago she had made none.

Acquaintances, yes...but friends? No. She just wasn’t the sort of outgoing, chirpy, confidence-sharing, giggling sort of girl who made friends easily and was always part of a group. She knew that and she rarely thought about it all—except...well...it was Friday, and outside the baking sun was fading into pleasant balmy warmth, and in the rest of the world people her age were all out there enjoying themselves. In Hyde Park. Or in those back gardens where barbecues were happening...

She glanced through her office door and an array of empty desks stared back at her accusingly, mockingly, pointing out her shortcomings.

She hurriedly made a mental list of all the wonderful upsides to her life.

Great job at one of the most prestigious companies in the country. Her own office, which was a remarkable achievement considering her age. Her own small one-bedroom flat in a nice enough area in West London. How many girls her age actually owned their own place? In London? Yes, there was a mortgage, but still...

She had done well.

So she might not be able to escape her past. But she could bury it so deeply that it could no longer affect her.

Except...

She was here, at work, on her own, on a Friday evening, on the twenty-sixth of July...

So what did that say?

She hunched back over the screen and decided to give herself another half an hour before she would leave the office and head back to her empty flat.

Thankfully she became so engrossed in the numbers staring back at her that she was barely aware of the distant ping of the lift and the sound of footsteps approaching the huge open-plan room where the secretaries and trainee accountants sat, and then moving on, heading towards her office.

She was squinting at the screen and totally unaware of the tall, dark figure looming by the door until he spoke, and then she jumped and for a few unguarded seconds was not the cool, collected woman she usually was.

Alessandro Preda always seemed to have that effect on her.

There was something about the man...and it was more—much more—than the fact that he owned the company...this great big company that had dozens of satellite companies under its umbrella.

There was something about him... He was just so much larger than life, and not in a comforting, cuddly-bear kind of way.

‘Sir... Mr Preda... How can I help you?’ Kate leapt to her feet, smoothing down her neat grey skirt with one hand, tidying the bun at the nape of her neck with the other—not that it needed tidying.

Alessandro, who had been leaning indolently against the doorframe, sauntered into her office, which was the only area lit on this floor of his company.

‘You can start by sitting back down, Kate. When I achieve royal status you can spring to your feet as I enter the room. Until then there’s really no need.’

Kate plastered a polite smile on her lips and sat down. Alessandro Preda might be drop-dead gorgeous—all lean and bronzed and oozing sexy danger—but there was nothing about him she found in the least bit appealing.

Too many people were in awe of his brilliance. Too many women swooned at his feet like pathetic, helpless damsels in distress. And he was just too arrogant for his own good. He was the man who had it all, and he was very much aware of that fact.

But, since he literally owned the ground she walked on, she had no choice but to smile, smile, smile and hope he didn’t see beneath the smile.

‘And there’s no need to call me sir every time you address me. Haven’t I told you that before?’

Dark-as-night eyes swung in her direction and lazily inspected the cool, pale face that had not cracked a genuine smile in all the time she had been working at his company. At least not in his presence.

‘Yes, you have...er...’

‘Alessandro...the name is Alessandro. It’s a family firm—I like to keep it casual with my employees...’

He swung round to perch on the edge of her desk and Kate automatically inched back in her chair.

Hardly a family firm, she thought sarcastically. Unless your family runs into thousands and happens to be scattered to the four corners of the globe. Big family.

‘What can I do for you, Alessandro?’

‘Actually, I came to leave some papers for Cape. Where is he? And why are you the only one alive and kicking here? Where are the rest of the accounts team?’

‘It’s after six-thirty...er...Alessandro... They all left a while ago...’

Alessandro consulted his watch and frowned. ‘You’re right. Not that it’s stretching the outer limits of the imagination to think that at least a few members of my highly paid staff might be here. Working.’ He looked at her, eyes narrowed. ‘So what are you still doing here?’

‘I had a few reports I wanted to get through before I left. It’s a productive time of day...when everyone else has left for the evening...’

Alessandro looked at her consideringly, head tilted to one side.

What was it about this woman? He had had some dealings with her over the past few months. She was a hard worker, diligent, had been fast-tracked by George Cape. He certainly had not been able to fault the quickness of her mind. Indeed, she seemed to have a knack for cutting through the crap and finding the source of problems—which wasn’t that easy in the fiddly arena of finance.

Everything about her was professional, but there was something missing.

The cool green eyes were guarded, the full mouth always tight and polite, the hair never out of place.

His eyes roved lower, taking in a body that was well sheathed behind a prim white long-sleeved shirt, neatly cuffed at the wrists and buttoned to the neck.

Outside, the temperatures had been soaring for the past three weeks—and yet you would never guess, looking at her, that it was summer beyond the office walls. He would bet his fortune that she would be wearing tights.

He, personally, thrived on a rich diet of sexy women who flaunted their assets, so Ms Kate Watson’s severe veneer never failed to arouse his curiosity.

The last time he had worked with her—for several days, on a tricky tax issue with which she had seemed more adept at dealing than her boss, George Cape, whose head had recently been in the clouds—he had tried to find out a bit more about her. Had asked her a few questions about what she did outside work...her hobbies, her interests. Polite chit-chat as they had taken time out over the food that had been delivered to his office suite.

Most women responded to any interest he showed in them by opening up. They couldn’t wait to tell him all about themselves. They preened and blossomed when he looked at them, when he listened to what they had to say, even though, in fairness, his attention wasn’t always exclusively on what they were talking about.

Kate Watson? Not a bit of it. She had stared at him with those cool green eyes and had managed to divert the conversation without giving anything of herself away.

‘You’re here every evening at this hour?’

Still perched on her desk, invading her space, Alessandro picked up a glass paperweight in the shape of a goldfish and twirled it thoughtfully between his fingers.

‘No, of course not.’ But far too often, all things considered.

‘No? Just today? Even though it’s the hottest day of the year?’

‘I’m not a big fan of hot weather.’ She lowered her eyes, suddenly a little angry at some kind of unspoken, amused criticism behind his words. ‘I find it makes me sluggish.’

‘It would,’ Alessandro pointed out, dumping the goldfish back on the desk where he had found it, ‘if you wear long-sleeved shirts and starched skirts.’

‘If you’d like to leave the papers with me, I’ll make sure I give them to George when he’s back.’

‘Back from where?’

‘He’s on holiday at the moment. Canada. He’s not due back for another two weeks.’

‘Two weeks!’

‘It’s not that long. Most people book two-week holidays during summer...’

‘Have you?’

‘Well, no...but...’

‘Not sure this can wait until Cape decides to grace us with his presence.’

He stood up and slapped a sheaf of papers on her desk, then placed his hands, palms down, squarely on either side of the papers and leaned into her.

‘I asked Watson Russell if he knew anything about the anomalies in the supply chain to the leisure centres I’m setting up along the coastline and he told me that it’s been Cape’s baby from the start. True or false?’

‘I believe he is in charge of those accounts.’

‘You believe?’

Kate took a deep breath and did her utmost not to be intimidated by the man crowding her—but it was next to impossible. Tall, raven-haired, muscular and leaning into her, he didn’t cause anything but a rapidly beating heart, a dry mouth and perspiring palms which she surreptitiously wiped on her skirt.

‘He’s in charge of those accounts. Exclusively. Perhaps you could explain what it is you’d like to find out?’

Alessandro pushed himself away from the desk and prowled through the office, noting in passing how little there was of her personality in it. No cutesy photographs in frames on the desk, no pot plants, no gimmicky pen-holder...not even a desk calendar with uplifting seascapes...or works of art...or adorable puppies...or semi-clad firemen...

He said nothing for a few seconds, then spun to face her, hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets.

‘Quite by chance a batch of files was delivered to me—probably because “Private and Confidential” was stamped so boldly on the envelope that the post boy must have automatically headed up to the directors’ floor. I scanned them and there appeared to be...how shall I say this?...certain discrepancies that need checking out.’

He couldn’t keep his eye on every single small detail within his vast empire. He paid people very generously indeed to do that, and with the fat pay packet came a great deal of trust.

He trusted his people not to try and screw him over.

‘There are a couple of small companies whose names I can’t say I recognize. I may have a lot of companies, but generally speaking I do know what they’re called...’

Kate paled as the significance of what he was saying began to sink in.

‘You catch on quickly,’ Alessandro said approvingly. ‘I had actually come down here to confront Cape with these files, but in his absence it might be a better idea for you to have a look at them and collate whatever evidence is necessary.’

‘Evidence? Necessary for what?’ she asked faintly, and flushed when he raised his eyebrows in question, as if incredulous that the point of what he had said might have passed her by. ‘George Cape is nearly at retirement age...he’s a family man...he has a wife, kids, grandchildren...’

‘Call me crazy,’ Alessandro said, with such silky assurance that she wanted to throw the goldfish paperweight at his handsome head, ‘but when someone I employ decides to take advantage of my generosity I tend to feel a little aggrieved. Of course I could be completely off target here. There might very well be a simple explanation for what I’ve seen...’

‘But if there isn’t...?’ She was unwillingly mesmerized by the graceful way he moved around her small office, his jacket bunching where his hand was shoved in his trouser pocket.

‘Well, the wheels of justice have to do something to keep busy...’ He shrugged. ‘So, here’s how this is going to play out: I am officially going to hand the files over to you and you are to examine them minutely, from cover to cover. I am assuming you know Cape’s password for his computer?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t.’

‘In which case get one of the computer whizz-kids to sort that out. You’re going to go through every single document that has been exchanged on this particular project and get back to me out of work hours.’

‘Out of work hours? What are you talking about?’

‘I think Cape’s been embezzling,’ Alessandro informed her bluntly. ‘We could keep going round the houses, but that’s the long and short of it. I had no idea that he was in sole charge of this project. Had he not been I might have been inclined to widen the net of suspicion, but it fundamentally comes down to just one man.’

He paused to stand in front of her desk and she reluctantly looked up—and up, and up—into his dark, lean face.

‘From what I’ve seen there’s not a great deal of money involved, which might be why no alarm bells went off, but not a great deal over a long period of time could potentially amount to a very great deal, and if there are dummy companies involved...’

‘I hate the thought of checking into what George has been doing,’ Kate said truthfully. ‘He’s such a lovely guy, and he’s been good to me since I began working here. If it weren’t for him I probably wouldn’t have been promoted as quickly as I have been...’

‘Blow his trumpet too vigorously and I might start thinking that you are in on whatever the hell’s been going on.’

‘I’m not,’ she said coldly, her voice freezing over. Her green eyes held his. ‘I would never cheat anyone of anything. That’s not the sort of person I am.’

Alessandro’s ears pricked up. He had dropped down to the third floor to deposit these papers with George Cape before heading out. He had no date—and no regret there either. His last blonde bombshell had gone the way of all good things, and he was back to the drawing board and more than happy to have a break from the fairer sex.

Kate Watson—Ms Kate Watson—was everything he avoided when it came to women. She was cold, distant, intense, unsmiling and prickly. She never let him forget that she was there to do a damn good job and nothing else.

But that single sentence...That’s not the sort of person I am...had made him wonder.

What sort of person was she?

‘You were asking me about my out-of-hours suggestion...’ Alessandro moved the topic swiftly along, at the same time relegating her stray remark to a box from which it would be removed at a later date.

He had nothing to do on a Friday night. A rare situation for him. He dragged the single spare chair in the room across to her desk and sat down, angling it so that he could extend his long legs to the side, crossing them at the ankles.

Kate watched with something approaching horror. ‘I was about to leave... Perhaps we could continue this conversation on Monday morning? I’m usually in first thing. By seven-thirty most days.’

‘Laudable. It’s heart-warming to know that there’s at least one person in my finance department who doesn’t clock-watch.’

‘I’m sure you must have plans for the evening, sir...Alessandro. If I take the paperwork home I can have a look at it over the weekend and get back to you with my findings on Monday morning. How does that sound?’

‘The reason I suggested that we discuss this situation out of hours is because I would rather not have it turned into a matter for speculation. Naturally you would be paid generously for your overtime.’

‘It’s not about being paid for overtime,’ Kate said stiffly. She kept her eyes firmly pinned to his face, but she was all too aware of the lazy length of his body, the flex of muscles under the white shirt, the tanned column of his throat and the strength of his forearms where he had shoved the sleeves of his shirt to the elbows.

He had always made her jumpy, in a way other men never had. There was a raw, primal, barely contained aggression about him that threatened her composure, and it had done so from the very first time she had set eyes on him as a new recruit to the company.

It was dangerous. It was the sort of dangerous she could do without. She didn’t like the way her body seemed to respond to him of its own accord. It frightened her.

Her upbringing had taught her many things, and the biggest thing it had taught her was the need for control. Control over her emotions, control over her finances, control over the destination of her life. She had grown up with a role model of a mother who had lacked all control.

Shirley Watson had adopted the frivolous name Lilac at the age of eighteen, and had spent her life living up to it—moving from pole dancer to cocktail-bar waitress to barmaid back to cocktail-bar waitress, flirting with men’s magazine pin-ups along the way.

A stunningly beautiful, pocket-sized blonde, she had only ever learned how to exploit the natural assets with which she had been born. Kate only knew sketchy details of her mother’s past, but she did know that Lilac had grown up as a foster-home kid. She had never known stability, and instead of trying to create some of her own had relied on being a dumb blonde, always believing that love lay just round the corner, that the men who slept with her really loved her.

Kate’s father had vanished from the scene shortly after she was born, leaving Lilac heartbroken at the age of just twenty-one. From him, she had moved on to a string of men—two of whom she had married and subsequently divorced in record time. In between the marriages she had devoted her life to pointlessly trying to attract men, always confusing their enthusiasm for her body for love, always distraught when they tired of her and pushed on.

She was a smart woman, but she had learned to conceal her brains because a brainy woman, she had once confided in her daughter, never got the guy.

Kate loved her mother, but she had always been painfully aware of her shortcomings and had determined from an early age that she would not live a life blighted by the same mistakes her mother had made.

It helped that she was dark-haired. And tall. She lacked her mother’s obvious sex appeal and for that she was thankful. Her assets she kept firmly under wraps, and when it came to men...well...

Any man who liked her for her body was off the cards. No way was she ever going to fall into the same helpless trap her mother had. She relied on her brains, and goodness knew it had been tough going, ploughing through her school years, moving from place to place, never quite knowing what would confront her on her return home from school.

Her mother, by a stroke of good fortune, had been given sufficient money by her second husband in their subsequent divorce to enable her to buy somewhere small in Cornwall. She—Kate—would not be relying on any such stroke of fortune. She would provide for herself by hook or by crook and be independent.

And when and if she ever fell in love it would be with a guy who appreciated her intelligence, who was not the kind of man with commitment issues, who didn’t abandon women after he had had his fill of them, who didn’t go out with women because of the way they looked.

So far this paragon of virtue hadn’t appeared on the scene, but that didn’t mean that she would ever be distracted in the meantime by the sort of guy she privately despised.

So why, she wondered, did her stupid body begin a slow burn whenever Alessandro Preda was within her radius?

And now here he was, making noises about them working alongside one another outside normal working hours.

‘Then what is it about?’ Alessandro demanded, bringing her back to the reality of him sitting across from her with a bump. ‘Hectic social life? Can’t spare a week to sort this matter out?’ He glanced around him before settling his dark eyes on her cool, pale face. ‘Despite the extremely pleasant office you have here at the tender age of what...? Twenty-something...?’

‘I’ve been promoted on merit.’

‘And part of that promotion involves going beyond the call of duty now and again. Consider this one of those instances.’

Kate lowered her eyes, keeping her cool.

‘You said you were heading off now...?’

‘Yes.’

‘In that case...’ Alessandro stood up and sauntered towards the door, where he proceeded to lean against it, staring at her ‘...I’ll walk you down. In fact, I’ll go one better. I’ll give you a lift to your house. Where do you live?’

Kate licked her lips nervously and ventured a polite smile as she stood up as well, and began tidying a desk that wasn’t in need of tidying.

‘How long have you been here?’

His voice had her head snapping up and she looked at him in bewilderment.

‘How long have I been where? In your company? Working in London?’

‘Let’s start with in this office.’

Kate looked around her at her neat space, in which she felt so safely cocooned. These four walls were tangible proof of how far she’d come and how quickly—tangible proof of the solid income that marked her steps along that road called financial security.

Her mother had asked if she could visit her place of work when next she was in London but Kate had tactfully, and a little shamefully, killed the suggestion before it could take shape.

Lilac Watson, not yet fifty, and these days thankfully a little less obvious in displaying what she had to offer physically, would still never have blended into these muted, expensive surroundings.

This was Kate’s life, built with her own blood, sweat and tears, and her mother had her own life. In Cornwall. Far away. Separate.

‘What about it?’ She shoved her work laptop into a leather briefcase and reached for the grey jacket she had slung over the back of her chair.

Grey jacket, grey calf-length skirt, flat, sensible patent pumps and, yes, definitely tights. Not stockings. Tights. Possibly of the support variety. Who knew? It was impossible to tell what sort of figure she had under the prim ensemble. Not fat, not thin, tall... The shirt managed to hide everything up top and the skirt did a similar job with everything down below.

And why the hell was he looking anyway?

‘How long have you been here? In it?’

Kate paused and frowned. ‘A little over six months. To start with I was moved in here because I was working late on a couple of very big clients and George thought that the quiet would help concentration. Not that it’s a mad house outside. It isn’t. And then, when I was promoted, I was offered it. I snapped it up.’

She reached for her briefcase, slung her black bag over her shoulder and straightened her skirt.

‘Thanks very much for your offer of a ride home, but there are one or two things I need to collect on the way so I shall take the Tube.’

‘What things?’

‘Things... Food items. I need to stop off at the corner shop.’

Alessandro heard irritation behind her calmly spoken words. This was something he wasn’t used to, and he was as bemused by his own reaction to it as he had been by his earlier curiosity as to what lay underneath the prissy work clothes.

‘Not a problem.’ He waved aside her objection. ‘I’ve sent my driver home and I have my own car. Far more convenient if you load whatever you need to buy into my car rather than having to walk with it back to your house.’

‘I’m accustomed to walking home with my groceries.’

Alessandro looked at her narrowly. He wouldn’t have taken her for being skittish, but there was something skittish about her now. And why turn down a ride home? With him?

‘It would be useful for us to decide how to approach this delicate problem with George Cape and whatever money he’s been siphoning off.’

‘If he’s been siphoning off any. And I was under the impression that you had already decided what you would do if you found out that he had taken money from you...throw him in prison and chuck away the keys.’

‘Let’s hope I’ve got it wrong, in that case, and he’ll be spared the prison sentence.’ He stepped aside, leaving her just sufficient room to brush past him through the door, switching off the lights in her wake. ‘You’ve been in this office for six months and this is the first time it’s struck me that there’s nothing personal in here at all. Nothing.’ Kate flushed. ‘It’s an office,’ she said briskly, stepping in front of him, briefcase in one hand, bag over her shoulder, head held high and deliberately averted from him. ‘Not a boudoir.’

‘Boudoir...nice word. Is that where you stash all your personal mementoes? In your boudoir?’

Kate heard the amusement in his voice and turned to him angrily. Get a grip, she told herself sternly. Don’t let the man rattle you. Green flashing eyes clashed with his oh-so-dark ones and she felt herself sinking into his gaze, had to yank herself firmly back to reality.

Alessandro Preda had a reputation with women. Even if the gossip hadn’t reached her ears, one glance at any news rag would have informed her of that reputation.

He used women. He was always being snapped with models draped on his arm, gazing up at him adoringly. Lots of models. A different model for every month of the year. He could have started his own agency with the number of them he ran through. She wondered whether some of those models had been like her mother—sad creatures, blessed with spectacular looks but not enough common sense to know how to use what they had been given. Hanging on. Hoping for more than would ever be on the agenda.

‘Shall I email you my findings?’ Underneath the scrupulous politeness her voice could have frozen fire. She pressed the button to summon the lift and stared at him, as rigid as a plank of wood.

Alessandro had never seen anyone so uptight in his entire life.

This went way beyond self-control—way beyond a certain amount of composure.

What was her story? And didn’t she know that all those ‘No Trespassing’ signs she’d erected around herself were enticing beacons to a man like him?

He was thirty-four years old, and he wasn’t sure whether to be proud or simply accepting of the fact that he had never had to try very hard for a woman. They offered themselves to him.

But Ms Kate Watson had issues with him. He didn’t know what they were, but he did know that they constituted a challenge—and since when had he ever been a man to turn down a challenge?

If he had, he certainly wouldn’t have ended up in the exalted position of power that he had.

He suppressed the onslaught of thoughts that always managed to put him in a foul mood.

‘I don’t think so.’ He stepped back as the lift doors slid open, allowing her to edge past him, making sure she kept her distance as much as she could, doing her utmost to be casual about it. ‘Emails can be intercepted.’

‘Aren’t you being a bit cloak and dagger about all of this?’

Kate addressed the long metal case in the lift containing the various buttons, but she was acutely aware of him right next to her, of the warmth of his body wafting through the air and settling around her like a dangerous cloak that she wanted to shake off. She couldn’t remember him having this sort of effect on her before, but then they had usually been in a room with other people around—not heading down in a lift, just the two of them.

She was alive to his presence in a way that made her whole body feel uncomfortable.

Alessandro stared at that pale averted profile. She was a beautiful woman, he realized with sudden surprise. It was something that wasn’t immediately apparent, because she was at such pains to play down her looks, but studying her now he saw her features were perfect. Her nose was small and straight, her lips oddly full and sexy, her cheekbones high and sharp. Maybe the severity of her hairstyle accentuated all of that.

He wondered how long her hair was. Impossible to tell.

She swung round sharply and he straightened, flushing guiltily at being caught red-handed staring at her. Not very cool.

‘I doubt George is going to do a runner if he gets wind that you’re on to him. And that’s if he’s guilty of anything at all!’

‘Why are you so keen to protect him?’

‘I’m not keen to protect him. Just being fair. Innocent until proved guilty, and all that.’

The lift doors opened with a purr and she stepped out into the vast marbled foyer that still impressed her after nearly two years.

She wasn’t protecting George Cape. Or was she? When she thought of George, a little guy staring down the barrel of a gun and not even realizing it, she thought of her own vulnerable mother, who had lived most of her life staring down the barrel of a gun and not realizing it, and when she thought about her mother she felt her heart constrict.

Which, of course, was not going to do. Least of all with a man like Alessandro Preda. And naturally she could see his point of view.

‘Commendable,’ Alessandro murmured. ‘So we begin on Monday. The hunt to find out whether Cape is guilty of fraud or stupidity. Either way, he will doubtless end up being sacked. Now, where do you live...? My car’s in the underground car park.’


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_4f65f5f8-73a0-505e-bffc-bfd80c2f650e)

IT HAD TAKEN a lot for Kate not to get in touch with George Cape over the weekend. Was he guilty of fraud? It was hard to believe. He was a true gentleman, courteous and kind, and he had taken her under his wing when she had started working for him. That said, he had not been his usual self over the past three months. Was there an explanation there somewhere?

She had looked through the files. Thankfully, no dummy companies had been set up—which she hoped ruled out fraud on a systematic large-scale basis. But the odd entries were definitely there, and...

She sighed and looked at her watch. She had managed to put off Alessandro the previous Friday evening, but he would be expecting her in his office now. At nearly seven p.m., the offices were again practically empty—aside from a few hard-core, nose-to-the-grindstone employees who barely glanced in her direction as she briskly walked out of the office with her files towards the bank of lifts.

It had been a while since she had been in Alessandro’s office. Not since that tax problem that had needed sorting out. George and the head of finance had been there too, but there had been a brief period when it had just been her, doing the grunt work with the numbers, and Alessandro, who had been covering other aspects of the problem, and he had ordered in food for both of them.

It had been one of the few occasions when they had been alone together and she could still vividly recall the way she had burned when she had glanced up at one point and their eyes had met.

He had very dark eyes, fringed with thick, dark lashes, and that day he had had the sort of brooding, thoughtful expression that sent shivers racing up and down her spine. Having him look at her had felt like a very physical experience and she hadn’t liked it.

And now that she was stepping into the lion’s den again she was determined to bring her wayward reactions to heel.

Unfortunately her rapidly beating heart was already letting the side down, and by the time she heard that deep, masculine drawl telling her to enter her palms were sweaty and her nerves were all over the place.

He was sprawled in his leather chair, hands folded loosely on his stomach.

‘Slight change of plan.’

They were his opening words and Kate stopped abruptly in her tracks. ‘I could always leave the files and we can discuss them another time.’ Disappointment warred with relief. ‘If you’re busy.’ Her eyes flickered away from their compulsive visual tour of his body.

‘We will discuss this over something to eat.’

That had her snapping to attention, and she looked at him with alarm. ‘There’s no need.’ She had already recalled the last time they had shared a meal in this setting, and a repeat performance was something she could do without. ‘I haven’t managed to speak to the computer department about getting hold of George’s password, but I don’t think we will need to do that.’ She took a few steps forward and thrust the files onto his desk. ‘There are no dummy companies. I’ve checked that out thoroughly. And—’

‘Over dinner.’

He slung his long body out of the chair and grabbed the jacket that had been tossed on the leather sofa by the wall. He didn’t bother to put it on, preferring to hook it over his shoulder with his finger, and then he continued.

‘I’ve asked you to work after hours. It’s only fair that I take you out to dinner. I mean, we do both have to eat...’

‘I hadn’t thought... This really won’t take very long...’

Alessandro had paused to stand in front of her, his lean, muscular body radiating a power that sapped her energy and threw her into a state of confusion. She resented both things. She was the consummate professional—a woman whose composed, efficient veneer was never dented. She had devoted her whole life to controlling the sort of feminine weakness that had reduced her mother to a victim over the years.

To combat the treacherous ache in her body she tightened her jacket around her, buttoning it and standing straighter—ramrod straight.

‘This is a man’s future we’re talking about,’ Alessandro’s keen eyes had noted all her little defence mechanisms: the way her lips had pursed, the tension in her shoulders, the buttoning of the jacket. ‘You wouldn’t want to write it off in a five-minute summary just because you happen to have a hot date for the evening, would you?’

‘I don’t have a hot date.’

The words left her mouth before she could drag them back, and it was no big deal but she still felt suddenly vulnerable and exposed. Her cheeks were burning as curious eyes lingered on her face.

‘I...I prefer to stay in on week nights,’ she gamely went on, even though she knew she should just shut up, because now he was staring at her with even more curiosity. ‘I often take work home with me. There’s a lot to get through and I know how easy it is for...for...things to pile up...’

‘You work late every evening, Kate. I don’t imagine anyone would expect you to take work home with you as well.’ He moved towards the door and opened it, standing back to allow her through. ‘Which is all the more reason for me to take you out for dinner, so that we can discuss this in less formal surroundings. I wouldn’t want you to see me as an unscrupulous boss who denies his employees a private life.’

Rattled, Kate walked briskly towards the lift. She turned to look at him. ‘But aren’t you?’

It was a daring question. One she shouldn’t have asked. He represented everything she didn’t like. In the normal course of events their paths would scarcely overlap. He rarely ventured down into the bowels of his offices, where the little people kept the wheels of his machinery well oiled and turning. But she didn’t like what he did to her, what he did to her prized self-control, and some wicked little devil inside her had pushed her to be more daring than she normally would have been.

‘Aren’t I what?’ He wondered how he had not noticed before the way her green eyes were the colour of polished glass.

Those polished-glass eyes slid sideways now.

‘Unscrupulous.’ Kate said eventually, although she still wasn’t looking at him as the lift carried them downstairs in what felt like a step out of routine that she didn’t want to take. Her heart was beating frantically inside her and she was thankful for the reliable armour of her neat starched suit. It gave her a confidence that was suddenly missing.

As they exited the building it was at least easier to talk to him when she was walking next to him and not staring directly at his face.

‘What I’m saying is I thought that in order to make it to the top you would have to be unscrupulous. No one ever gets to play in the Champions League unless they’re willing to...well...’

‘Crush everyone and everything in their path?’ He clasped her arm and turned her to face him.

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘That’s not my style. There’s no need. And if this has to do with any decision I make about Cape, then you’re way off target. If Cape’s been defrauding my company then he’ll take the consequences. It’s an unfortunate truth that people must live and die by the decisions they make.’

‘That seems a little harsh.’

‘Does it?’ His eyes darkened but he released her arm, even though he didn’t immediately carry on walking. The crowds parted around them, shooting them curious looks.

Here, outside, it was very warm, and her suit of armour was beginning to feel more than a bit uncomfortable. Her skin prickled and she licked her lips nervously.

‘Not that it’s any of my business,’ she was quick to add. ‘Where are we going to eat?’

‘Is that your way of telling me that you’d like to bring this conversation to an end?’

‘I shouldn’t have said...what I said.’

‘You’re free to speak your mind.’

They began walking to a gastropub that was tucked down one of the tiny side streets close to his offices in the heart of the city.

‘Because it’s really just a family firm...?’ There was a smile in her voice as she tried to lighten the atmosphere.

‘You’ve got it. One big, happy family—just so long as all my family members behave themselves. When one of them steps out of line, then I’m afraid I have to rule with a firm hand.’

‘It’s a very big family.’

‘Which started small. And I suppose that’s why it’s important for me to take control when a situation such as the one we have now develops. I didn’t create this baby for anyone to get it into their heads that they could climb on my bandwagon and begin looting. Here we are.’

He pushed open the door into a space that was so dark it took Kate a couple of seconds for her eyes to adjust. Dark and refreshingly cool, and quaintly higgledy-piggledy.

‘This is not the sort of place I thought you would have liked,’ she blurted out impulsively, and Alessandro smiled.

‘I’m old friends with the man who owns it, and as a matter of fact coming here is something of an antidote to my frenetic pace of life. Why don’t you take your jacket off?’

‘I’m fine.’

Alessandro raised his eyebrows with mild disbelief. ‘I expect you’d like to get down to work immediately...bypass all the pleasantries...?’

‘I have all the files in my briefcase.’

‘I hate to curb your enthusiasm, but I could do with relaxing for five minutes before I begin to hear about what George Cape’s been up to. You might think I’m hard-line, but Cape’s been with my company for a quite a number of years. It’s regrettable that he could not have just approached me had he wanted a loan.’

She was spared the temptation of telling him that perhaps he needed to work on the whole family atmosphere approach by the arrival of the owner of the restaurant, who made a great fuss of Alessandro. They lapsed into rapid Italian and she covertly watched Alessandro, relaxed, gesticulating, grinning, showing her a natural warmth that was usually concealed under the forbidding exterior.

This would be the man who charmed women, she thought. The guy who could have any woman he wanted at the snap of a finger and made full use of the talent.

And, of course, none of those women were Plain Janes or, God forbid, downright unappealing.

Drawn into their conversation towards the end, she smiled politely and offered the owner her hand in a businesslike handshake which, as they moved towards a table nestled in its own alcove towards the back of the restaurant, Alessandro told her had successfully nipped his friend’s salacious ideas in the bud.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Once seated, she pointedly extracted the file they would need to discuss and placed it on the table next to her.

Wine was brought to them. On the house.

‘You must know the proprietor very well,’ she murmured, ‘if free wine is part of the deal when you come here.’

‘He would throw in free food as well.’ Alessandro sat back and looked at her with lazy consideration. ‘But I always insist on paying for what I eat.’

‘That’s very thoughtful of you.’

He laughed aloud and shot her an appreciative look. ‘You have a sense of humour! I never realized.’

Kate thought that that was borderline rude, but how could she object when she had been pretty outspoken in some of the things she had said to him?

‘Relax,’ he urged, gently removing the hand that she held over her wine glass and pouring her some wine. ‘We might be here to work, but you’re not in the office now.’

And that, she thought, was the problem—because when she was in the office, surrounded by computers and filing cabinets and desks, and the constant buzz of ringing phones, she could be a cool, controlled professional. Whereas here...

The place was popular. Nearly every table was occupied, and the bar area was crowded with men in suits and women in sharp summer outfits and high heels.

‘Why do you work so much overtime?’

Kate frowned and played with her wine glass before taking a sip. What sort of a question is that? she wanted to ask. He owned the company. Surely he should be congratulating her on her dedication to her job instead of asking her why she worked so hard?

‘I thought that was the way to get ahead,’ she said neutrally. ‘But I might be mistaken.’

Alessandro grinned, enjoying her understated dry sense of humour.

‘I mean,’ Kate continued, warming to her theme because somehow, somewhere in his remark, there had been just the faintest hint of criticism. ‘You did express some disappointment that the entire floor was empty when you came to drop those files off for George...’

‘Quite true.’

‘So why are you criticizing me because I happen to do a bit of overtime now and again?’

‘I got the impression that it was more the rule than the exception. And I’m not criticizing you.’

‘It sounds as though you are.’ She could feel those dark eyes boring into her and had to restrain herself from squirming.

He was her boss. Actually, he was the lord of all he surveyed, and it was in her interests to remain as polite and detached as possible. Never mind all that tosh about his hundred-thousand-strong family of employees...he could ruin her career with the snap of his fingers. As he would doubtless ruin George Cape’s career.

She bristled with anger, stole a resentful glance at his lean, beautiful face, and wondered what it would feel like to have those sensuous lips on hers.

She didn’t even know where that errant thought had come from, but it was so vivid that her whole body responded. Her breasts ached, and between her legs...she was horrified to realize that she was dampening.

‘I’m ambitious,’ she told him heatedly, ‘and there’s nothing wrong with that. I work hard because I hope that my hard work will pay off, that I’ll be promoted... I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth and I’ve had to fight for every single thing I’ve got.’

It was more than she should have said, although not a word of it was untrue. It just felt weird—wrong—to be confiding in him. And why was she anyway? She wasn’t here for an interview and he hadn’t demanded that she explain herself.

Usually so reticent, she had been propelled into speaking her mind. She licked her lips nervously, realized that she was sitting forward, fists clenched on the table, and deliberately made herself relax and smile.

‘You’re implying that your colleagues come from a more privileged background than you?’

‘I’m not implying anything. I was just...stating a fact.’

Alessandro noted the pink in her cheeks. Up close and personal with her—which he had never been before—he sensed that her reactions were honest. She blushed when he wouldn’t have expected her to, because the impression she gave was one of complete self-control. He could remember asking her questions about certain technicalities in the jobs she had worked on and she had been cool, calm and knowledgeable, barely displaying any kind of personality at all.

But then...

He glanced briefly around him. This wasn’t a cold, clinical office, was it? The neat little folder she had pointedly stuck on the table next to her was the only evidence that this was a work meeting. And without the backup of an office he had a tantalizing glimpse of the person behind the beautiful but bland exterior.

Did he want to bring the conversation back to work? Not yet.

‘Maybe you think that I do...?’ he murmured in a lazy drawl.

‘I haven’t given that any thought at all,’ Kate lied. ‘I’m here to do a job, not to pry into other people’s lives.’

‘Your days must be very dull, in that case.’

‘Why? Why do you say that?’

‘Because it’s commendable to work hard, and to do a good job, but doesn’t everyone get a little titillation from office politics? The salacious gossip? The speculating...?’

‘Not me.’

Her voice was firm but her nerves were all over the place. She picked up the menu and stared at it but she could still feel his eyes on her.

‘I think I might have the fish.’

Alessandro didn’t bother to glance at the menu. He responded by keeping his eyes firmly fixed on her face while he beckoned with a slight raising of his hand and was rewarded when someone sprang to attention and hustled over.

How did he do that? Was there some poor sap hovering in the corner somewhere, waiting until the Mighty One beckoned him across?

Of course there would be. Money talked, and Alessandro Preda had a lot of it. Vast amounts.

People changed when they were around money. Common sense flew through the window. Subservience, slavishness and an awestruck inability to just act normally set in.

So she might feel something—a little insignificant twinge of awareness about the man—but that was natural. He was drop-dead gorgeous, especially when she was receiving the full, undiluted blast of his forceful personality. But she wasn’t and never would be one of those simpering airheads who turned to mush around him. And actually not just airheads. Lots of clever women—definitely two in the legal department—giggled at the mention of his name and projected crazy fantasies about him over lunch in the office restaurant. Several times Kate had had to stop her eyes from rolling skywards.

Her body might be a little rebellious, but thankfully she had her head firmly screwed on.

She politely waited as he ordered, said no to a top-up of wine, and then relented because at least it made her relax.

‘So, about George...’ She flicked open the file and felt the weight of his hand over hers.

‘In good time.’

‘Sorry. I thought you might have finished relaxing.’ Her heart was thumping so hard that she wondered if she might be having a mild panic attack. Or, worse, turning into one of those simpering airheads. Or even worse than that, one of those clever women whose brains went missing in action the second he came too close.

‘Only just beginning.’

He dealt her a slashing smile that did nothing to steady her disobedient body and she pursed her lips in response.

‘Perhaps I should have taken more of an interest in your career before...considering you’re one of my rising stars...’

‘I didn’t think you got involved in doing appraisals on anybody in your company,’ Kate responded politely. Boss/employee, she reminded herself. The boss got to ask all the questions and the employee got to ask none whatsoever.

‘True,’ Alessandro conceded.

He didn’t look at the waiter as he placed their food in front of them and then did some annoying perfect positioning of their plates. All he wanted the man to do was disappear. Because he was pleasantly invigorated and didn’t want to lose the moment. They were few and far between as it was.

‘I like to think that’s what my human resources people are all about. Although, in fairness, they probably work to rule like the rest of the occupants of your floor.’

‘Everyone works overtime in the winter months. It’s just that it’s summer and it’s baking hot outside—I guess they want to leave on time and enjoy the sunshine.’

‘But not you?’ Alessandro pointed out. ‘Nothing urgent out of hours waiting for you?’

‘I don’t think what I do outside work is actually any of your business—and I apologize right now if you think I’m being rude when I say that.’

‘No need for apologies. I just want to make sure. Do you feel the need to live in the office in order to get on?’

‘I...’

She tried to imagine living a life in which that mythical other half was right now whipping up something in the kitchen for her, anxiously consulting his watch if she was running late. She would have to do something about that—turn the passing thought into reality. She didn’t miss having a guy in her life now, but she would eventually. She wasn’t meant to be an island, and if she wasn’t careful she would wake up one day and find herself alone because she had sacrificed everything to her quest for security.

‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’

‘Huh?’

‘You’re a million miles away,’ Alessandro drawled drily. ‘Simple question, really. I didn’t think it would have required that much deep thought.’

‘I...’

For a few seconds she nearly told him just how much deep thought that ‘simple question’ required. More than he could ever imagine because—like it or not—this man who saw his vast empire as a family affair was a man who came from money. How could he ever understand the drive inside her to fill all the gaps her upbringing had left?

‘Sorry... No. Of course I know that there’s no need for me to work long hours to get on—although, in fairness, I probably work fewer hours in winter than my colleagues.’

‘Ah, yes. Because you’re a creature of the night?’

And just like that Kate thought of her mother, of those jobs in dark bars earning money from tips, dancing and showing herself off in whatever nonsense she was told to put on. A creature of the night doing night-time jobs. Nothing like her.

‘Don’t you ever say that to me!’ she blurted out before she could stop herself. She was shaking with anger and stuck her hands under the table on her lap so that he couldn’t see that they were shaking.

‘Say what?’ Alessandro asked slowly, his sharp eyes narrowed on her flushed face. ‘Did I say something wrong?’ He frowned and saw her make a visible effort to gather herself. ‘Tell me what the problem is.’

‘There isn’t a problem. I’m sorry. I overreacted.’

‘Firstly, stop apologizing for everything you say that you think might offend me. I don’t take offence easily. And secondly...there is a problem. You went as white as a sheet and now you’re shaking like a leaf. What provoked that sudden bout of outrage?’

Curiosity dug deep. Underneath the calm surface, she was a hotbed of emotion and that intrigued him. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, crowding her.

‘You’re trying to think of a polite way of telling me that it’s none of my business, aren’t you?’

Kate shied away from his searching narrowed stare. She could feel the full force of his powerful personality like something raw and physical and it appalled and mesmerized her at the same time. This was evidence of the driving tenacity that had propelled him into the stratosphere of wealth and power and it went far, far beyond his formidable intelligence and his ambition.

She averted her face, her heart beating wildly. ‘My mother worked in a cocktail bar,’ she said flatly.

Why had she just come out with that? She never, ever went there with other people. Her past was a closed book to prying eyes.

‘Amongst other things. I have no idea why I’m telling you this.’ She looked at him accusingly from under lowered lashes. ‘I don’t usually confide in other people. I’m not usually a confiding kind of person. I know you think I’m strange, working long hours, but...’

‘But you crave financial security?’

‘Crave is a strong word.’ She smiled tentatively. ‘But maybe it’s the right one.’

She felt a weird sense of release at unburdening herself. When she was growing up, those sensitive teenage years had been an agony of embarrassment. She had made sure never to get too close to anyone. She hadn’t wanted them to find out that her mother worked as a cocktail waitress, brought men home who used her because of the way she looked, was a sad, desperate woman who knew only how to barter with her body to keep them going.

She’d loved her mother but she had been ashamed of her—and ashamed of being ashamed. And now here was her boss, Alessandro Preda, whose lifestyle repulsed her, who represented everything she found distasteful in a man, and the sympathy on his face was like a key unlocking her secrets. Stupid. Really stupid. And somehow dangerous...

‘My upbringing was...unsteady. Mum never seemed interested in holding down a normal office job. I can only remember her going out at night, leaving me with some friend or other when I was young, and then the minute I hit twelve I was on my own. I loved my mother...I love my mother...but I hated the way she earned a living. I hated thinking of her in stupid skimpy clothes, with men staring and trying to paw her. And she was always falling in love—always thinking that Mr Right was the next handsome guy who paid her some attention and told her she was beautiful.’

‘So when I called you a creature of the night...’

‘I’m sorry.’ Mortified, Kate stared at her empty wine glass and watched as he poured her some more wine. She hadn’t planned on drinking anything at all. Now she wondered how much she had inadvertently downed. Maybe the alcohol had loosened her tongue? She didn’t feel in the least bit tipsy, but why else would she have suddenly turned into a blabbering mess?

‘What did I tell you about apologizing?’

‘I work for you...’

‘Which doesn’t turn you into one of my subjects. Like I said, I have yet to attain royal status,’ Alessandro drawled. ‘Where does your mother live now?’

‘Cornwall.’ Kate shot him a quick glance and looked away just as fast.

He was just so sinfully good-looking! It shouldn’t do anything for her, because she was the last person on the planet to judge a guy by the way he looked, but her tummy was in knots and she had to force herself not to stare at that dark, brooding, interested face. She almost had the feeling that, given half a chance, he would be able to reach into her head and pull out her deepest, darkest thoughts.

‘She...she married twice. Her second husband, Greg, gave her sufficient money in their divorce for her to buy somewhere small, and she wanted to be by the sea.’

‘And your father?’

‘I had no idea I would be subjected to a question-and-answer session...’ But she had initiated this whole conversation, and there was a weary acceptance of that in her voice.

Alessandro had never had the slightest curiosity about the back stories of his women. He was curious now.

‘My father left soon after I was born. He was my mother’s first love and her only love—so she tells me.’ She cleared her throat and searched for the brisk, businesslike voice that was so much part and parcel of her persona. Sadly it was nowhere to be found. Just when she really felt she needed it. ‘I think she’s been trying ever since to replace him.’

‘And now?’

‘And now what?’

‘There’s someone in her life?’

Kate smiled and Alessandro felt the breath catch in his throat—a sudden, sharp, shocking reaction that came from nowhere. The woman was beautiful. Did she deliberately downplay that? This was a Pandora’s box. She worked for him, and they were here to discuss the future of an employee. Serious stuff. But for the life of him he didn’t want to let the conversation go.

‘I’m proud to announce that my mother has been a man-free zone for three years. I feel she might be cured of her addiction to looking for love in all the wrong places.’

‘And what about you?’ Alessandro murmured huskily. ‘Are you a man-free zone at the moment?’

His thoughts veered wildly into uncharted territory. He pictured her with a man. He pictured her with him. The face she chose to show the world was not the sum total of the person she was. In fact, scratch the surface and the cool, marble exterior gave way to swirling, unpredictable currents.

He had a driving, crazy urge to test those waters.

He had his own reasons, he knew, for the choices he had made and continued to make. His own parents and their all-consuming love had left little room for a kid and no room at all for common sense. Theirs had been a world with room only for each other, and their ridiculous choices had seen their joint family fortunes whittled away into nothing thanks to rash decisions, stupid blunders, irrational money-making ventures.

Control? They had had none of that. He did. He controlled every aspect of his life, including his love life, but suddenly all those beautiful, vapid, utterly controllable women who had cluttered his life seemed like safe, dreary options.

Insane. He had never mixed business with pleasure. Never. This woman was off limits.

But she had kick-started his libido and he felt the thrust of a powerful erection pressing against the zipper of his trousers, bulging and uncomfortable.

Kate detected something in his voice that sent the thrill of a shiver racing through her and desperately tried to squelch it.

How the heck had this happened? How had the conversation swerved from George and his misdeeds to questions about her private life? What on earth had possessed her to start sharing her life story like an idiot?

‘I’ve been very busy getting my career up and going,’ she said briskly. ‘I haven’t had time to cultivate relationships.’

‘All work and no play...’ Alessandro murmured. ‘Personally, I’ve always found that a little bit of play makes the work go a helluva lot faster.’

‘That approach doesn’t work for me. It never has.’ She winced at the tenor of her voice—cold, prim, defensive. ‘And now I think we ought to get the bill. I...it’s later than I expected... I don’t think it would be fair on George if we shoved our discussion of his plight into a few minutes tacked on to the end of a meal. I realize you’ve written him off as a master criminal, but I feel he deserves better than that.’

She automatically felt for the bun at the back of her head. Still firmly in place. Unlike the rest of her.

Alessandro mentally waved aside the topic of hapless George and his unfortunate wrongdoings. Tomorrow was another day. He would deal with that later. They would deal with that later. Right now...

‘What approach doesn’t work for you?’

Kate pretended to misunderstand his question.

‘Ah. You’ve decided to retreat behind your professional mask. Why?’

‘Because we didn’t come here to talk about me. We came to talk about George.’

‘But we didn’t,’ Alessandro pointed out with remorseless logic. ‘We didn’t end up talking about George, as it happens.’

‘And that was a mistake.’ She breathed a silent sigh of relief as the bill was brought to them, and then breathed an even bigger sigh of relief when the proprietor approached and began enthusiastically quizzing them on what they thought of their meal, his sharp black eyes dancing between the two of them.

So she hadn’t answered his question. And he wasn’t sure why he wanted to find out anyway. But he did. What was it they said about wanting what you couldn’t get?

He watched as she rose, terminating all personal conversation.

‘I shall get a taxi home,’ she told him firmly.

He ignored her. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

He ushered her out into a much cooler evening—suitable weather finally for her starchy suit and jacket. He made a call on his cell phone and his car, complete with driver, appeared from nowhere. It pulled over and he opened the passenger door for her. When she was inside, he leant down so that he was looking at her on eye level.

‘You’ll be happy to know that you’ll be spared my company.’

He grinned, and she had one of those intuitive moments of knowing that he knew exactly what had been going through her head.

‘I’ll get Jackson to drop you home and we can pick up where we left off at a later date.’

‘What later date?’ She worried at her lower lip. If she could stick a few definite meetings in her work diary then she would be able to get a handle on seeing him again. And over her dead body if it was going to be in another cosy little restaurant.

‘I’ll get back to you on that one.’

‘But don’t you want to get this mess sorted out as quickly as possible?’

‘You can keep an eye on all the business accounts for suspicious activity, but if there’s none then why not let George enjoy his last supper, so to speak?’ He stood up, slapped the hood of the sleek, black Maserati, and remained watching as it disappeared from view.

He hadn’t felt so invigorated for a long time.

And what, he wondered, was a guy to do about that?


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_fdc88a85-18d6-5631-bb32-20b3abcfb895)

FOR THE PAST few years Kate had seen her place of work as a refuge. There, she had felt in charge of her life, had worked hard at putting together all the building blocks that gave it definition and purpose.

Now she felt jumpy. On tenterhooks. Always on the lookout for Alessandro who, for the past couple of days, had often appeared to talk to her. About a client with a thorny tax problem, two overseas companies whose vast returns had generated questions about splitting them into smaller fragments, an acquisition that would mark a significant branching out from electronics, shipping and the leisure industry into publications...

‘Cape would normally handle this, but seeing that he’s on an extended holiday abroad, and seeing that that extended holiday is likely to become permanent, you’d better start getting acquainted with some of his responsibilities...’

This at five-thirty earlier today, when most of her colleagues had mentally switched off in preparation for leaving and had been all agog at the appearance of the big man.

She had kept as cool and collected as she could but her nerves had been all over the place. Surely the head of finance should be handling this situation? she had ventured, watching askance as he had perched on the side of her desk and then dragging her eyes away from his muscular thighs and the way the fine fabric of his trousers was stretched taut over them. But, no. Watson Russell was swamped by several huge ongoing deals—and besides, these matters would qualify as fairly small peanuts for him.

Afterwards, some of the girls had hovered, waiting for her to emerge from her office, and had proceeded to ply her with questions. None of the questions had had anything to do with work. They had wanted her opinion of him. As a hunk. Kate had made it a point never to engage in conversations like that, but she had been pinned to the wall and had found herself admitting that he was all right but not her type.

So how come he’s been around so much...is something going on...?

Argh! She had become just the sort of giggly, girly type she had never been, and it had left her all hot and bothered.

And he still hadn’t committed to a meeting so that he could look through what she had found out—which, as it turned out, was not very much at all. George had been dipping his hands in the till, but it hadn’t been going on for very long and the amounts, in the big scheme of things, weren’t that significant.

She would talk to Alessandro about that—try and find some compassion in him for the older man—but she didn’t hold out much hope.

Now, at home far earlier than she normally would have been, on yet another hot summer evening, Kate looked at her work computer with jaundiced eyes.

It wasn’t yet six and she couldn’t face sitting in front of her computer and picking up where she had left off during the day.

Wandering through her very nice little ground-floor flat, she had plenty of time to think about the social life she lacked.

The back door was flung open and she could smell the neighbours barbecuing. Aside from the pleasant couple with two kids living next to her, she had no idea who her neighbours were.

At work, having almost given up on asking her, two of her colleagues had invited her to go to the pub with them and she had felt a little surge of panic because...

Because her whole life was devoted to work.

How had that happened? Okay, she knew how, and she knew why, she just didn’t understand how it had all run away with her so that she had lost all her perspective.

Not only was her social life practically non-existent, but where was the guy she should be dating? Where was the exciting sex life she should be having?

She had had one boyfriend, three years previously, and he had fallen off the face of the earth because he had wanted more attention than she had been prepared to give. He hadn’t understood that she had been taking professional exams and had had to study when she wasn’t holding down the demanding job at the accountancy firm she had left as soon as she had qualified.

At the time she had been miffed—because how hard would it have been for him to just give her some breathing space? Surely it had been enough that they’d had fun on the weekends? But he had wanted more than just fun on the weekends.

So now here she was—alone. She wouldn’t have wanted to be with Sam still. No, in retrospect, he hadn’t been the man for her, even though he had ticked a lot of the right boxes. But shouldn’t she have moved on? Be having a good time finding his replacement? Somewhere?

She lived in London, for heaven’s sake!

Frustrated with the direction of her thoughts, she slammed shut the French doors at the back so that she couldn’t be reminded of what she was missing by the smell of barbecue wafting into her house.

Then she had a shower.

Then, in a pair of tiny shorts and a cropped top, she prepared to wait out the annoying train of thoughts that were suddenly bothering her.

For which she blamed her wretched boss, who had somehow managed to get under her skin, to make her feel somehow inadequate...

And as soon as she started thinking about Alessandro she found that she couldn’t stop.

He was just so alive and vital and brimming over with restless energy. Next to him, she felt like a pale, listless shadow, going through the motions of having a fulfilling life when she wasn’t.

Absorbed in pointless speculation, she was only aware of the doorbell when it was depressed with such insistency that she was forced to dash and pull open the door or else risk her neighbours complaining about noise pollution.

Alessandro Preda was the last person she’d expected to see standing on her doorstep. In fact she blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision and turn him into someone else. But, no, he was still there. Tall, dynamic, broad-shouldered, and way too exotically good-looking for London suburbia.

He didn’t say a word. Just looked at her. He had obviously come straight from work because he was still in his work trousers—charcoal grey, super conventional, and yet on him somehow not quite. But there was no jacket, and he had shoved the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, revealing muscled forearms liberally sprinkled with dark hair.

She seemed to have forgotten how to speak.

‘Are you going to ask me in?’

Alessandro eventually broke the silence. It took some effort. He had wanted to catch her by surprise, had been driven by sheer curiosity to see her somewhere—anywhere—that wasn’t to do with the office.

But he hadn’t expected this.

This wasn’t the starchy woman who occupied her own office three floors down in his building. Removed from the files, the computers, the telephones and the uninspiring range of suits in various shades of grey, this was a different woman altogether.

This was the woman he had glimpsed at the restaurant.

She was in a pair of shorts and a small top, and her hair was long and tied back in a ponytail that swung down her back.

Where had that body come from? She was long and slender, her stomach flat, her breasts...

He broke out in a fine film of perspiration. It was the sort of reaction he never experienced, and his awareness of her, his physical awareness of her, was intense, immediate—a rush of blood invading his body in a tidal surge.

She wasn’t wearing a bra.

‘What are you doing here?’

It was a breathless, angry question. She could barely deal with him at the office—was at war with herself and her puzzling reaction to him. How dared he now take himself out of that environment, which didn’t even feel safe any more, and superimpose himself here? On her doorstep? In her apartment?

Suddenly excruciatingly aware of just how much of her body was exposed, she hugged her arms around herself and remained rooted to the spot. She hadn’t shut the door in his face, but she wasn’t inviting him in either.

‘I’ve been busy this week,’ Alessandro imparted roughly, raking fingers through his dark hair and staring away to one side while he tried to do the unimaginable and compose himself. ‘I had every intention of going through this business with you, but I haven’t had time. Like you said, Cape deserves more than five minutes of my attention when I can grab a moment.’

‘You managed to grab lots of moments when you were in my office—piling work on me before George has even been given a decent burial...’

‘Hell, why do you have to be so dramatic? And are you going to ask me in? Or am I going to have to stand outside and have this conversation with you? The neighbours might begin to wonder what’s going on.’

Kate spun round on her heels, agonisingly conscious of her small shorts. She realized in a flash how important her formal work attire was. All those bland, off-the-peg suits in drab colours had been her way of keeping the rest of the world at bay. Even at the restaurant with him, when she had dropped her mask and actually spoken her mind, that suit of hers had still been a reminder of their respective roles.

But shorts and a cropped top? Since when could anyone call that armour?

Alessandro watched her extremely pert bottom as she stalked away from him. His erection was so ramrod hard that it was painful—and more than likely visible.

He wanted to ask her whether she made it a habit to open the door to anybody who might ring the bell dressed in next to nothing, because this wasn’t Cornwall. He shoved both hands into his trouser pockets in an attempt to do some damage limitation with the serious bulge of his arousal.

‘I’m going to change,’ she told him ungraciously as she stood aside and indicated that he could wait for her in the kitchen. ‘I’m sorry, Alessandro. I realize that you’re the boss, and you probably think that you can do whatever you please, but I really don’t think it’s on for you to just call by unannounced.’

Her arms were still folded as she swung to look at him. Her heart picked up pace as their eyes tangled and held. Her skin felt too tight for her body. His eyes on her made her nipples tingle, made her want to rub her legs together to ease the ache between them.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/raznoe-12566735/at-her-boss-s-pleasure/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.