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Kidnapped For The Tycoon's Baby
Louise Fuller


‘This baby is mine too, Nola. I’m not letting you out of my sight.’When Nola Mason gives in to an explosive fling with her arrogant boss Ramsay Walker, she believes she’ll never see him again. Let alone that her stormy affair will have nine-month consequences! Knowing the pain of a chaotic childhood, Nola is determined to raise her child alone…When he discovers the truth, Ram has other ideas! There’s only one way to ensure Nola sees sense – steal her away to his rainforest hideaway, and with the sultry heat fuelling their incendiary passion, entice her to marry him!Secret Heirs of Billionaires







“This baby is mine, too, Nola. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

When Nola Mason gives in to an explosive fling with her arrogant boss, Ramsay Walker, she believes she’ll never see him again. Let alone that her stormy affair will have nine-month consequences! Knowing the pain of a chaotic childhood, Nola is determined to raise her child alone...

When he discovers the truth, Ram has other ideas! There’s only one way to ensure Nola sees sense—steal her away to his rain forest hideaway, and with the sultry heat fueling their incendiary passion, entice her to marry him!


Nola felt her stomach flip over, and images from that night they’d spent together exploded inside her head like popping corn. Suddenly her whole body was quivering, and it was all she could do not to lean over and kiss Ramsay, to give in to that impulse to taste and touch that beautiful mouth once again…

Gripping the underside of the hard plastic chair, she steadied herself. And, taking a quick breath, forced herself to meet his eyes head-on. ‘You said you wanted to finish this, Ram, but we can’t,’ she said hoarsely. ‘Because it never started. It was just a one-night stand, remember?’

‘Oh, I remember every single moment of that night. As I’m sure you do, Nola.’

His eyes gleamed, and instantly her pulse began to accelerate.

‘Only this isn’t about just one night any more. Our one-night stand has got long-term consequences.’ He gestured towards her stomach.

‘But not for you.’ She looked up at him stubbornly, her blue eyes wide with frustration. ‘Whatever connection we had, it ended a long time ago.’

‘Given that you’re pregnant with my child, that would seem to be a little premature and counter-intuitive,’ he said softly.


Secret Heirs of Billionaires (#u7edd9d59-61c9-5e85-920a-e3aaa2faf791)

There are some things money can’t buy…

Living life at lightning pace, these magnates are no strangers to stakes at their highest. It seems they’ve got it all… That is until they find out that there’s an unplanned item to add to their list of accomplishments!

Achieved:

1. Successful business empire.

2. Beautiful women in their bed.

3. An heir to bear their name?

Though every billionaire needs to leave his legacy in safe hands, discovering a secret heir shakes up his carefully orchestrated plan in more ways than one!

Uncover their secrets in:

Unwrapping the Castelli Secret by Caitlin Crews

Brunetti’s Secret Son by Maya Blake

The Secret to Marrying Marchesi by Amanda Cinelli

Demetriou Demands His Child by Kate Hewitt

The Desert King’s Secret Heir by Annie West

The Sheikh’s Secret Son by Maggie Cox

The Innocent’s Shameful Secret by Sara Craven

The Greek’s Pleasurable Revenge by Andie Brock

The Secret Kept from the Greek by Susan Stephens

Carrying the Spaniard’s Child by Jennie Lucas

Look out for more stories in the Secret Heirs of Billionaires series coming soon!


Kidnapped for the Tycoon’s Baby

Louise Fuller






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


LOUISE FULLER was a tomboy who hated pink and always wanted to be the Prince—not the Princess! Now she enjoys creating heroines who aren’t pretty push-overs but strong, believable women. Before writing for Mills & Boon she studied literature and philosophy at university, and then worked as a reporter on her local newspaper. She lives in Tunbridge Wells with her impossibly handsome husband, Patrick, and their six children.

Books by Louise Fuller

Mills & Boon Modern Romance

Blackmailed Down the Aisle

Claiming His Wedding Night

A Deal Sealed by Passion

Vows Made in Secret

Visit the Author Profile page

at millsandboon.co.uk. (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) for more titles.


For Adrian. My brother, and one of the good guys.


Contents

Cover (#ubf6c4409-1e5f-5a41-8197-9f6c7b35e008)

Back Cover Text (#u9aadb99f-b208-5ab5-9600-8f930a78b988)

Introduction (#u57cb82ee-318d-51dd-bcbb-66bf7064218a)

Secret Heirs of Billionaires (#u7f22808c-71b8-523b-a43d-145375273c50)

Title Page (#u7e0d7a9c-bce1-5bac-8b0c-c49170cd1c51)

About the Author (#u7181e7fa-4f87-5530-8e77-cce5378f1c3c)

Dedication (#ub7ff1c08-c859-5cc3-b307-4f626f4f608e)

CHAPTER ONE (#ud76a4579-7461-52cc-bea2-b7aa264cf28c)

CHAPTER TWO (#u3afc2b10-a679-5f13-a409-2cc8d80ae925)

CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

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)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#u7edd9d59-61c9-5e85-920a-e3aaa2faf791)

‘I’M SORRY ABOUT THIS, Ms Mason. But don’t worry. I’ll get you there on time, just like always.’

Feeling the car slow, Nola Mason looked up from her laptop and frowned, her denim-blue eyes almost black within the dark interior of the sleek executive saloon.

Glancing out of the window, she watched a flatbed truck loaded with cones lumber slowly through the traffic lights. There had been some kind of parade in Sydney over the weekend, and the police and street cleaners were still dealing with the aftermath.

Thankfully, though, at five o’clock on Monday morning the traffic was limited to just a few buses and a handful of cars and, closing her laptop, she leaned towards her driver.

‘I know you will, John. And please don’t worry. I’m just relieved to have you.’

Relieved, and grateful, for not only was John punctual and polite, he also had near photographic recall of Sydney’s daunting grid of streets.

As the car began to move again she shifted in her seat. Even after two months of working for the global tech giant RWI it still felt strange—fraudulent, even—having a chauffeur-driven limo at her disposal. She was a cyber architect, not a celebrity! But Ramsay Walker, the company’s demanding and maddeningly autocratic CEO, had insisted on it.

Her mouth twisted. It had been the first time she’d objected to something, only to have Ramsay overrule her, but it hadn’t been the last. His dictatorial behaviour and her stubborn determination to make a stand had ensured that they clashed fiercely at every subsequent meeting.

But now it was nearly over. Tomorrow was her last day in Sydney and, although, she and her partner Anna were still under contract to troubleshoot any problems in the RWI cyber security framework, they would do so from their office in Edinburgh.

She breathed out softly. And what a relief to finally be free of that intense grey gaze! Only, why then did what she was feeling seem more like regret than relief?

Glancing up at the imposing RWI building, she felt her heart begin beating hard and high in her chest. But right now was not the time to indulge in amateur psychology. She was here to work—and, if she was lucky, at this time of the morning she could expect a good two to three hours of uninterrupted access to the security system.

But as she walked past the empty bays in the visitor parking area some of her optimism wilted as she spotted a familiar black Bentley idling in front of the main entrance.

Damn it! She was in no mood for small talk—particularly with the owner of that car—and, ducking her chin, she began to walk faster. But she was not fast enough. Almost as she drew level with the car, the door opened and a man slid out. A woman’s voice followed him into the early-morning light, together with the faintest hint of his cologne.

‘But, baby, why can’t it wait?’ she wheedled. ‘Come on—we can go back to mine. I’ll make it worth your while...’

Unable to stop herself, Nola stole a glance at the man. Predictably, her breath stumbled in her throat and, gritting her teeth, she began to walk faster. She couldn’t see his face, but she didn’t need to. She would recognise that profile, that languid yet predatory manner anywhere. It was her boss—Ramsay Walker. In that car, at this time of the morning, it was always her boss.

Only the women were different each time.

Ignoring the sudden slick of heat on her skin, she stalked into the foyer. She felt clumsy and stupid, a mix of fear and restlessness and longing churning inside of her. But longing for what?

Working fourteen-hour days, and most weekends, she had no time for romance. And besides, she knew nobody in Sydney except the people in this building, and there was no way she would ever have a relationship with a colleague again. Not after what had happened with Connor.

Remembering all the snide glances, and the way people would stop talking when she walked by, she winced inwardly. It had been bad enough that everyone had believed the gossip. What had been so hurtful—so hurtful that she’d still never told anyone, not even her best friend and business partner, Anna—was that it had been Connor who’d betrayed her. Betrayed her and then abandoned her—just like her father had.

It had been humiliating, debilitating, but finally she had understood that love and trust were not necessarily symbiotic or two-way. She’d learnt her lesson, and she certainly wasn’t about to forget it for an office fling.

She glanced back to where the woman was still pleading with Ramsay. Gazing at the broad shoulders beneath the crumpled shirt and the tousled surfer hair, Nola felt her heart thudding so loudly she thought one of the huge windows might shatter.

Workplace flings were trouble. But with a man like him it would be trouble squared. Cubed, even.

And anyway her life was too complicated right now for romance. This was the biggest job Cyber Angels had ever taken on, and with Anna away on her honeymoon she was having to manage alone, and do so with a brain and a body that were still struggling to get over three long-haul flights in as many weeks.

Trying to ignore the swell of panic rising inside her, she smiled mechanically at the security guard as he checked her security card. Reaching inside her bag, she pulled out her lift pass—and felt her stomach plummet as it slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor beside a pair of handmade Italian leather loafers.

‘Allow me.’

The deep, masculine voice made her scalp freeze. Half turning, she forced a smile onto her face as she took the card from the man’s outstretched hand.

‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure.’

Turning, she walked quickly towards the lift, her skin tightening with irritation and a sort of feverish apprehension, as Ramsay Walker strolled alongside her, his long strides making it easy for him to keep pace.

As the lift doors opened it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she would use the stairs. But, given that her office was on the twenty-first floor, she knew it would simply make her look churlish or—worse—as though she cared about sharing the lift with him.

‘Early start!’

Her skin twitched in an involuntary response to his languid East Coast accent, and she allowed herself a brief glance at his face. Instantly she regretted it. His dark grey eyes were watching her casually...a lazy smile tugged at his beautiful mouth. A mouth that had been kissing her all over every night since she’d first met him—but only in her dreams.

Trying to subdue the heat of her thoughts, praying that her face showed nothing of their content, she shrugged stiffly. ‘I’m a morning person.’

‘Is that right?’ he drawled. ‘I like the night-time myself.’

Night-time. The words whispered inside her head and she felt her body react to the darkness and danger it implied, her pulse slowing, goosebumps prickling over her skin. Only how was it possible to create such havoc with just a handful of syllables? she thought frantically.

‘Really?’ Trying her hardest to ignore the strange tension throbbing between them, she forced her expression into what she hoped looked like boredom and, glancing away, stared straight ahead. ‘And yet here you are.’

She felt his gaze on the side of her face.

‘Well, I got waylaid at a party...’

Remembering the redhead in the car, she felt a sharp nip of jealousy as stifling a yawn, he stretched his arms back behind his shoulders, the gesture somehow implying more clearly than words exactly what form that waylaying had taken.

‘It seemed simpler to come straight to work. I take it you weren’t out partying?’

His voice was soft, and yet it seemed to hook beneath her skin so that suddenly she had no option but to look up at him.

‘Not my scene. I need my sleep,’ she said crisply.

She knew she sounded prudish. But better that than to give this man even a hint of encouragement. Not that he needed any—he clearly believed himself to be irresistible. And, judging by his hit rate with women, he was right.

He laughed softly. ‘You need to relax. Clio has a party most weekends. You should come along next time.’

‘Surely that would be up to Clio?’ she said primly, and he smiled—a curling, mocking smile that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

His eyes glittered. ‘If I’m happy, she’s happy.’

She gritted her teeth. Judging by the photos of supermodels with tear-stained faces, papped leaving his apartment, that clearly wasn’t true. Not that it was any of her business, she thought quickly as the lift stopped.

There was a short hiss as the doors opened, and then, turning to face him, Nola lifted her chin. ‘Thank you, but no. I never socialise with people at work. In my opinion, the disadvantages outweigh the benefits.’

His eyes inspected her lazily. ‘Then maybe you should let me change your opinion. I can be very persuasive.’

Her stomach dipped, and something treacherously soft and warm slipped over her skin as his grey gaze rested on her face. When he looked at her like that it was hard not to feel persuaded.

She drew a breath. Hard, but not impossible.

‘I don’t doubt that. Unfortunately, though, I always put workplace considerations above everything else.’

And before he had a chance to respond she slipped through the doors, just before they slid shut.

Her heart was racing. Her legs felt weak. Any woman would have been tempted by such an invitation. But she had been telling the truth.

Since her disastrous relationship with Connor, she had made a decision and stuck to it. Her work life and her personal life were two separate, concurrent strands, and she never mixed the two. She would certainly never date anyone from work. Or go to a party with them.

Particularly if the invitation came from her boss.

Remembering the way his eyes had drifted appraisingly over her face, she shivered.

And most especially not if that boss was Ramsay Walker.

In business, he was heralded as a genius, and he was undeniably handsome and sexy. But Ramsay Walker was the definition of trouble.

Okay, she knew with absolute certainty that sex with him would be mind-blowing. How could it not be? The man was a force of nature made flesh and blood—the human personification of a hurricane or a tsunami. But that was why he was so dangerous. He might be powerful, intense, unstoppable, but he also left chaos and destruction behind him.

Even if she didn’t believe all the stories in the media about his womanising, she had witnessed it with her own eyes. Ramsay clearly valued novelty and variety above all else. And, if that wasn’t enough of a warning to stay well away, he’d also publicly and repeatedly stated his desire never to marry or have children.

Not that she was planning on doing either any time soon. She and her mother had done fine on their own, but getting involved on any level with a man who seemed so determinedly opposed to such basic human connections just wasn’t an option. It had taken too long to restore her pride and build up a good reputation, to throw either away for a heartbreaking smile.

Three hours later, though, she was struggling to defend both.

* * *

In the RWI boardroom silence had fallen as the man at the head of the table leaned back in his chair, his casual stance at odds with the dark intensity of his gaze. A gaze that was currently locked on Nola’s face.

‘So let me get this right,’ he observed softly. ‘What you’re trying to say is that I’m being naive. Or complacent.’

A pulse of anger leapfrogged over his skin.

Did she really think she was going to get away with insulting him in his own boardroom? Ram thought, watching Nola blink, seeing anger, confusion and frustration colliding in those blue, blue eyes.

Eyes that made a man want to quench his thirst—and not for water. The same blue eyes that should have warned him to ignore her CV and glowing references and stick with men in grey suits who talked about algorithms and crypto-ransomware. But Nola Mason was not the kind of woman it was easy to ignore.

Refusing his invitation to meet at the office, she had insisted instead that they meet in some grimy café in downtown Sydney.

There, surrounded by surly teenagers in hoodies and bearded geeks, she had shown him just how easy it was to breach RWI’s security. It had been an impressive display—unorthodox, but credible and provocative.

Only not as provocative as the sight of her long slim legs and rounded bottom in tight black jeans, or the strip of smooth bare stomach beneath her T-shirt that he’d glimpsed when she reached over to the next table for a napkin.

It wasn’t love at first sight.

For starters, he didn’t believe in love.

Only, watching her talk, he had been knocked sideways by lust, by curiosity, by the challenge in those blue eyes. By whatever it was that triggered sexual attraction between two people. It had been beyond his conscious control, and he’d had to struggle not to pull her across the table by the long dark hair spilling onto the shoulders of her battered leather jacket.

But it was the dark blue velvet ribbon tied around her throat that had goaded his senses to the point where he had thought he was going to black out.

Those eyes, that choker, had made up his mind. In other words, he’d let his libido hire her.

It was the first time he’d ever allowed lust to dictate a business decision. And it would be the last, he thought grimly, glancing once again at the tersely written email she had sent him that morning. He gritted his teeth. If Ms Nola Mason was expecting him to pay more, she could damn well sing for it.

Nola swallowed, shifting in her seat. Her heart was pounding, and she was struggling to stay calm beneath the battleship-grey of Ram’s scrutiny. Most CEOs were exacting and autocratic, but cyber security was typically an area in which the boss was almost always willing to hand over leadership to an expert.

Only Ram was not a typical boss.

Right from that first interview it had been clear that not only was his reputation as the enfant terrible of the tech industry fully justified, but that, unusually, he could also demonstrate considerably more than a working knowledge of the latest big data technologies.

Truthfully, however, Ram’s intelligence wasn’t the only reason she found it so hard to confront him. His beauty, his innate self-confidence, and that still focus—the sense that he was watching her and only her—made her heart flip-flop against her ribs.

Her blue eyes flickered across the boardroom table to where he sat, lounging opposite her. It might be shallow, but who wouldn’t be affected by such blatant perfection? And it didn’t help that he appealed on so many different levels.

With grey eyes that seemed to lighten and darken in harmony with his moods, messy black hair, a straight nose, and a jaw permanently darkened with stubble, he might just as easily be a poet or a revolutionary as a CEO. And the hard definition of muscle beneath his gleaming white shirt only seemed to emphasise that contradiction even more.

Dragging her gaze back up to his face, Nola felt her nerves ball painfully. The tension in his jaw told her that she was balancing on eggshells. Concentrate, she told herself—surely she hadn’t meant to imply that he was naive or complacent?

‘No, that’s not what I’m saying,’ she said quickly, ignoring the faint sigh of relief that echoed round the table as she did so. She drew in a deep breath. ‘What you’re actually being is arrogant, and unreasonable.’

Somebody—she wasn’t sure who—gave a small whimper.

For a fraction of a second Ram thought he might have misheard her. Nobody called him arrogant or unreasonable. But, glancing across at Nola, he knew immediately that he’d heard her correctly.

Her cheeks were flushed, but she was eyeing him steadily, and he felt a flicker of anger and something like admiration. She was brave—he’d give her that. And determined. He knew his reputation, and it had been well and truly earned. His negotiating skills were legendary, and his single-minded ruthlessness had turned a loan from his grandfather into a global brand.

A pulse began to beat in his groin. Normally she would be emptying her desk by now. Only the humming in his blood seemed to block out all rational thought so that he felt dazed, disorientated by her accusation. But why? What was it about this woman that made it so difficult for him to stay focused?

He didn’t know. But whatever it was it had been instant and undeniable. When he’d walked into that coffee shop she had stood up, shaken his hand, and his body had reacted automatically—not just a spark but a fire starting in his blood and burning through his veins.

It had been devastating, unprecedented. At the time he’d assumed it was because she was so unlike any of the other women of his acquaintance. Women who would sacrifice anything and anyone to fit in, to make their lives smooth. Women who chose conformity and comfort over risk.

Nola took risks. That was obvious from the way she had dressed and behaved at her interview. He liked it that she broke the rules. Every single time he came into contact with her he liked it more—liked her more.

And she liked him too.

Only every single time she came into contact with him she gave him the brush-off. Or at least she tried too. But her eyes gave her away.

As though sensing his thoughts, Nola glanced up and looked away, her hand rising protectively to touch her throat. Instantly the pulse in his groin began to beat harder and faster.

He had never had to chase a woman before—let alone coax her into his bed. It was both maddening and unbelievably erotic.

At the thought of Nola in his bed, wearing nothing but that velvet choker, he felt a stab of sexual frustration so painful that he had to grip the arms of his chair to stop himself from groaning out loud.

‘That’s a pretty damning assessment, Ms Mason,’ he said softly. ‘Obviously if I thought you were being serious we’d be having a very different conversation. So I’m going to assume you’re trying to shock me into changing my mind.’

Nola took a breath. Her insides felt tight and a prickling heat was spreading up her spine. Could everyone else in the room feel the tension between her and Ram? Or was it all in her head?

Stupid question. She knew it was real—and not just real. It was dangerous. Whatever this thing was between them, it was clearly hazardous—not only to her reason but to her instinct for self-preservation. Why else was she picking a fight with the boss in public?

Abruptly he leaned forward, and as their eyes met she shivered. His gaze was so intent that suddenly it felt as though they were alone, facing each other like two Western gunslingers in a saloon bar.

‘Nice try! But I’m not that sensitive.’

Without warning the intensity faded from his handsome features and, glancing swiftly round the room, she knew her anger must look out of place—petulant, even. No doubt that had been his intention all along: to make her look emotional and unprofessional.

Gritting her teeth, she leaned back in her chair, trying to match his nonchalance.

Watching her fingers curl into a fist around her pen, Ram smiled slowly. ‘I don’t know whether to be disappointed or impressed by you, Ms Mason. It usually takes people a lot less than two months to realise I’m arrogant and unreasonable. However, they don’t tend to say it to my face. Either way, though, I’m not inclined to change my mind. Or permit you to change yours. You see, I only have one thousand four hundred and forty minutes in any day, and I don’t like to waste them on ill-thought-out negotiations like this one.’

Watching the flush of colour spread over her pale skin, he felt a stab of satisfaction. She had got under his skin; now he had not got under hers, And he was going to make sure it stung.

‘I gave you a budget—a very generous budget—and I see no reason to increase it on the basis of some whim.’

Nola glared at him. ‘This is not a whim, Mr Walker. It is a response to your email informing me that the software launch date has been brought forward by six weeks.’

Had he stuck to the original deadline, the new system would have been up and running for several months prior to the launch, giving her ample time to iron out any glitches. Now, though, the team she’d hired and trained for RWI would have to work longer hours to run all the necessary checks, and overtime meant more money.

Ram leaned forward. ‘I run a business—a very successful one—that is currently paying your salary, and part of that success comes from knowing my market inside out. And this software needs to be on sale as soon as possible. And by “as soon as possible” I mean now.’

She blinked trying to break the spell of his eyes on hers and the small taunting smile on his lips.

Taking a breath, she steadied herself. ‘I understand that. But now changes things. Now is expensive. But not nearly as expensive as it will be when your system gets hacked.’

‘That sounds awfully like a threat, Ms Mason.’

She took another quick breath, her hand lifting instinctively to her throat. Feeling the blood pulsing beneath her fingertips, she straightened her spine.

‘That’s because it is. But better that it comes from me than them. Hackers break the rules, which means I have to break the rules. The difference is that I’m not about to steal or destroy or publicise your data. Nor am I going to extort money from you.’

‘Not true.’ The corner of his mouth lifted, as though she had made a joke, but there was no laughter in his eyes. ‘Okay, you don’t sneak in through the back door. You just give me one of those butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-your-mouth smiles and put an invoice on my desk!’

‘I can protect your company, Mr Walker. But I can’t do that if my hands are tied behind my back.’

He tilted his head, his expression shifting, his dark gaze locking onto her face. ‘Of course not. But, personally, I never let anyone tie me up unless we’ve decided on a safe word beforehand. Maybe you should do the same.’

There was some nervous laughter around the table. But before she could respond, he twisted in his seat and gestured vaguely towards the door.

‘I need to have a private conversation with Ms Mason.’

Stomach churning, Nola watched as the men and women filed silently out of the room. Finally the door closed with a quiet click and she felt a ripple of apprehension slither over her skin as she waited for him to speak.

But he didn’t say anything. Instead he simply stared out of the window at the blue sky, his face calm and untroubled.

Her heartbeat accelerated. Damn him! She knew he was making her wait, proving his power. If only she could tell him where to put his job. But this contract was not only paying her and Anna’s wages, RWI was a global brand—a household name—and getting a good reference would propel their company, Cyber Angels, into the big time.

So, willing herself to stay cool-headed, she sat as the silence spread to the four corners of the room. Finally he pushed back his seat and stood up. Her pulse twitched in her throat as she watched him walk slowly around the table and come to a halt in front of her.

‘You’re costing me a great deal of money already. And now you’re about to cost me a whole lot more.’ He stared at her coolly. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing else you’d like, Nola? This table, perhaps? My car? Maybe the shirt off my back?’

He was looking for her to react. Which meant she should stay silent and seated. But it was the first time he had said her name, and hearing it spoken in that soft, sexy drawl caught her off guard.

She jerked to her feet, her body acting independently, tasting the sharp tang of adrenaline in her mouth.

Instantly she knew she’d made a mistake. She was close enough to reach out and touch that beautifully shaped mouth. In other words, too close. Walk away, she shouted silently. Better still, run! But for some reason her legs wouldn’t do what her brain was suggesting.

Instead, she glowered at him, her blue eyes darkening with anger. ‘Yes, that’s right, Mr Walker. That’s exactly what I want. The shirt off your back.’

But it wasn’t. What she really wanted was to turn the tables. Goad him into losing control. Make him feel this same conflicted, confusing mass of fear and frustration and desire.

His fingers were hovering over the top button of his shirt, his eyes holding hers. ‘You’re sure about that?’ he said softly.

The menacing undertone beneath the softness cut through her emotion and brought her to her senses.

At the other end of a table, surrounded by people, Ram Walker was disturbing, distracting. But up close and unchaperoned he was formidable.

And she was out of her depth.

Breathing in sharply, she shook her head, her pulse quickening with helpless anger as he gave her a small satisfied smile.

‘And I thought you liked breaking the rules.’

His eyes gleamed and she knew he was goading her again, but she didn’t care. Right now all she wanted was to be somewhere far away from this man who seemed to have the power to turn her inside out and off balance.

‘Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?’ he asked with an exaggerated politeness that seemed designed to test her self-control.

He waited until she shook her head, and then, turning, he walked towards the door.

‘I’ll speak to the accountants today.’

It was with relief bordering on delirium that she watched him leave the room.

* * *

Back in her office, she sat down behind her desk and let out a jagged breath.

Her hands were trembling and she felt hot and dizzy.

Leaning back in her chair, she picked up her notebook and a pencil. She knew it was anachronistic for a techie like herself to use pen and paper, but her mother had always used a notebook. Besides, it helped her clear her mind and unwind—and right now, with Ram Walker’s goading words running on a loop round her head, she needed all the help she could get.

But she had barely flipped open her notebook when her phone buzzed. She hesitated before picking it up. If it was Ram, she was going to let it ring out. Her nerves were still jangling from their last encounter, and she couldn’t face another head-to-head right now. But glancing at the screen, she felt a warm rush of happiness.

It was Anna.

A chat with her best friend would be the perfect antidote to that showdown with Ram.

‘Hey, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Why are you calling me? This is your honeymoon. Shouldn’t you be gazing into Robbie’s eyes, or writhing about with him on some idyllic beach?’

Hearing Anna’s snort of laughter, she realised just how much she was missing her easy-going friend and business partner.

‘I promise you, sex on the beach is overrated! Sand gets everywhere. And I mean everywhere.’

‘Okay, too much information, Mrs Harris.’ She began to doodle at the edges of the paper.

‘Oh, Noles, you have no idea how weird it is to be Mrs Somebody, let alone Mrs Harris.’

‘No idea at all! And planning to stay that way,’ she said lightly.

Marriage had never been high on her to-do list. She was happy for Anna, of course. But her parents’ divorce had left her wary of making vows and promises. And her disastrous relationship with Connor had only reinforced her instinctive distrust of the sort of trust and intimacy that marriage required.

Anna giggled. ‘Every time anyone calls me that I keep thinking my mother-in-law’s here. It’s terrifying!’

She and Nola both burst out laughing.

‘So why are you ringing me?’ Nola said finally, when she could speak again.

‘Well, we were at the pool, and Robbie got talking to this guy, and guess what? He’s a neurosurgeon too. So you can imagine what happened next.’

Nola nodded. Anna’s husband had recently been appointed as a consultant at one of Edinburgh’s top teaching hospitals. He was as passionate about his work as he was about his new wife.

‘Anyway, I left them yapping on about central core function and some new scanner, and that made me think of you, slogging away in Sydney all on your own. So I thought I’d give you a call and see how everything’s going...’

Tucking the phone against her shoulder, Nola rolled her eyes. ‘Everything’s fine. There was a bit of a problem this morning, but nothing I couldn’t handle.’

She paused, felt a betraying flush of colour spreading over her cheeks, and was grateful that Anna was on the end of a phone and not in the same room.

There was a short silence. Then, ‘So, you and Ramsay Walker are getting on okay?’

Nola frowned.

‘Yes...’ She hesitated. ‘Well, no. Not really. It’s complicated. But it’s okay,’ she said quickly, as Anna made a noise somewhere between a wail and groan.

‘I knew I should have postponed the honeymoon! Please tell me you haven’t done anything stupid.’

Nola swallowed. She had—but thankfully only in the safe zone of her imagination.

‘We had a few words about the budget, but I handled it and it’s fine. I promise.’

‘That’s good.’ She heard Anna breathe out. ‘Look, Noles, I know you think he’s arrogant and demanding—’

‘It’s not a matter of opinion, Anna. It’s a fact. He is arrogant and demanding.’

And spoiled. How could he not be? He was the only son and heir to a fortune; his every whim had probably been indulged from birth. He might like to boast that he said no to almost everything, but she was willing to bet an entire year’s salary that nobody had ever said no to him.

‘I know,’ her friend said soothingly. ‘But for the next twenty-four hours he’s still the boss. And if we get a good reference from him we’ll basically be able to print money. We might even be able to pay off our loan.’ She giggled. ‘Besides, you have to admit that there are some perks working for him.’

‘Anna Harris, you’re a married woman. You shouldn’t be having thoughts like that.’

‘Why not? I love my Robbie, but Ram Walker is gorgeous.’

Laughing reluctantly, Nola shook her head. ‘He is so not your type, Anna.’

‘If you believe that you must have been looking too long into that big old Australian sun! He’s every woman’s type. As long as they’re breathing.’

Opening her mouth, wanting to disagree, to deny what she knew to be true, Nola glanced down at her notepad, at the sketch she had made of Ram.

Who was she trying to kid?

‘Fine. He’s gorgeous. Happy now?’

But as she swung round in her seat her words froze on her lips, and Anna’s response was lost beneath the sudden deafening beat of her heart.

Lounging in the open doorway, his muscular body draped against the frame, Ram Walker was watching her with a mocking gaze that told her he had clearly heard her last remark.

There was no choice but to front it out. Acknowledging his presence with a small, tight smile, she closed her notebook carefully and, as casually as she could manage, said, ‘Okay, that all sounds fine. Send the data over as soon as possible and I’ll take a look at it.’

Ignoring Anna’s confused reply, she hung up.

Her heart was ricocheting against her ribs.

‘Mr Walker. How can I help you?’

He stared at her calmly, his grey eyes holding her captive.

‘Let’s not worry about that now,’ he said easily. ‘Why don’t we talk about how I can help you?’

She stared at him in silence. Where was this conversation going?

‘I don’t understand—you want to help me?’

‘Of course. You’re only with us one more day, and I want to make that time as productive as possible. Which is why I want you to have dinner with me this evening.’

‘You mean tonight?’

Her voice sounded too high, and she felt her cheeks grow hot as he raised an eyebrow.

‘Well, it can’t be any other night,’ he said slowly. ‘You’re flying home tomorrow, aren’t you?’

Nola licked her lips nervously, a dizzying heat sliding over her skin. Dinner with her billionaire boss might sound like a dream date, but frankly it was a risk she wasn’t prepared to take.

‘That would be lovely. Obviously,’ she lied. ‘But I’ve got a couple of meetings, and the one with the tactical team at five will probably overrun.’

He locked eyes with her.

‘Oh, don’t worry. I cancelled it.’

She gazed at him in disbelief, and then a ripple of anger flickered over her skin.

‘You cancelled it?’

He nodded. ‘It seemed easier. So is seven-thirty okay?’

‘Okay?’ she spluttered. ‘No, it’s not okay. You can’t just march in and cancel my meetings for a dinner date.’

He raised an eyebrow and took a step backwards. ‘Date? Is that why you’re so flustered? I’m sorry to disappoint you, Ms Mason, but I’m afraid we won’t be alone.’

His words made her heart hammer against her chest, and a hot flush of embarrassment swept across her face. She was suddenly so angry she wanted to scream.

‘I don’t want to be alone with you,’ she snapped, her hands curling into fists. ‘Why would I want that?’

He smiled at her mockingly. ‘I suppose for the same reason as any other woman in your position. Sadly, though, I’ve invited some people I think you should meet. They’ll be good for your business.’

She stared at him mutely, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn’t result in her being fired on the spot.

His gaze shifted from her face to her fists, grey eyes gleaming like polished pewter.

‘Nothing else to say? You disappoint me, Ms Mason! I was hoping for at least one devastating comeback. Okay, I’ll pick you up from your hotel later. Be ready. And don’t worry about thanking me now. You can do that later too.’

‘But I’ve got to pack!’ she called after him, the bottleneck of words in her throat finally bursting.

But it was too late. He’d gone.

Staring after him, Nola felt a trickle of fury run down her spine. Any other woman in your position. How dared he lump her in with all his other wannabe conquests? He was impossible, overbearing and conceited.

But as a hot, swift shiver ran through her body she swore under her breath, for if that was true then why did he still affect her in this way?

Well, it was going to stop now.

Standing up, she stormed across her office and slammed the door.

Breathing out hard, she stared at her shaking hands. It felt good to give way to frustration and anger. But closing a door was easy. She had a horrible feeling that keeping Ram Walker out of her head, even when she was back in Scotland, was going to be a whole lot harder.


CHAPTER TWO (#u7edd9d59-61c9-5e85-920a-e3aaa2faf791)

FROM HIS OFFICE on the twenty-second floor, Ram stared steadily out of the window at the Pacific Ocean. The calm expression on his face in no way reflected the turmoil inside his head.

Something was wrong. He looked down at the file he was supposed to be reading and frowned. For starters, he was sleeping badly, and he had a near permanent headache. But worst of all he was suffering from a frustrating and completely uncharacteristic inability to focus on what was important to him. His business.

Or it had been important to him right up until the moment he’d walked into that backstreet café and met Nola Mason.

A prickling tension slid down his spine and his chest squeezed tighter.

Down in the bay, a yacht cut smoothly through the waves. But for once his eyes didn’t follow its progress. Instead it was the clear, sparkling blue of the water that drew his gaze.

His jaw tightened, pulling the skin across the high curves of his cheekbones.

Two months ago his life had been perfect. But one particular woman, whose eyes were the exact shade as the ocean, had turned that life upside down.

Nola.

He ran the syllables slowly over his tongue. Before he’d met her the name had simply been an acronym for New Orleans—or the Big Easy, as it was also known. His eyes narrowed. But any connection between Nola Mason and the city straddling the Mississippi ended there. Nola might be many things—sexy, smart and seriously good at her job. But she wasn’t easy. In fact she was unique among women in that she seemed utterly impervious to his charms.

Thinking back to their conversation in the boardroom, remembering the way she had stood up to him in front of the directors, he felt the same mix of frustration, admiration and desire that seemed to define every single contact he had with her.

It was a mix of feelings that was entirely new to him.

Normally women tripped over themselves to please him. They certainly never kept him at arm’s length, or spouted ‘workplace considerations’ as a reason for turning him down.

Turning him down! Even just thinking the words inside his head made him see every shade of red. Nobody had ever turned him down—in the boardroom or the bedroom.

He glanced down at the unread report, but there was no place to hide from the truth: despite the fact that his instincts were screaming at him to keep his distance, he couldn’t stop thinking about Nola and her refusal to sleep with him. Her stupid, logical, perfectly justified refusal to break the rules. Her rules.

He closed the file with a snap. His rules too.

And that was what was really driving him crazy. The fact that up until a couple of months ago he would have agreed with her. Workplace relationships were a poisoned chalice. They caused tension and upset. And not once had he ever been tempted to break those rules and sleep with an employee.

Only Nola Mason was not just a temptation.

She was a virus in his blood.

No. His mouth twisted. She was more like malware in his system, stealthily undermining his strength, his stability, his sanity.

But there was a cure.

His groin hardened.

He knew what it was, and so did she.

He’d seen it in the antagonism flickering in those blue eyes, heard it in the huskiness of her voice. And her resistance, her refusal to acknowledge it was merely fuelling his desire. His anticipation of the moment when finally she surrendered to him.

He tossed the file onto his desk, feeling a pulsing, breathless excitement scrabbling up inside him.

Of course, being Nola, she would offer a truce, not a surrender. Those eyes, that mouth, might suggest an uninhibited sensuality, but he sensed that the determined slant of her chin was not just a pose adopted for business but a reflection of how she behaved out of work and in bed.

Picturing Nola, her blue eyes narrowing into fierce slits as she straddled his naked body, he felt his spine melt into his chair. But truces could only happen if both parties came to the table—which was why he’d invited her to dinner. Not an intimate, candlelit tryst. He knew Nola, and she would have instantly rejected anything so blatant. But now she knew it was to be a business dinner at a crowded restaurant, she would relax—hell, they might even end up sharing a dessert.

His mouth curved up into a satisfied smile. Or, better still, they could save dessert until they got back to his penthouse.

* * *

So this was what it felt like to be famous, Nola thought as she walked self-consciously between the tables in the exclusive restaurant Ram had chosen. It was certainly an experience, although she wasn’t sure it was one she’d ever want to repeat.

The Wool Shed was the hottest dining ticket in town, but even though it was midweek, and the award-winning restaurant was packed, to her astonishment Ram hadn’t bothered to book. For any normal person that would have meant looking for somewhere else to eat. Clearly those rules didn’t apply to Ram Walker, for now, within seconds of his arrival, the maître d’ was leading them to a table with a view across the bay to the Opera House.

‘I think I may have told our guests that dinner was at eight, so it’s going to be just the two of us for a bit. Sorry about that.’

Nola stared at him warily. He didn’t sound sorry; he sounded completely unrepentant. Meeting his gaze, she saw that he didn’t look sorry either. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the uneasiness that was clearly written all over her face.

Sliding into the seat he’d pulled out, Nola breathed out carefully. ‘That’s fine. It’ll give you a chance to brief me on our mystery guests.’

She felt him smile behind her. ‘Of course—and don’t worry, your chaperones will arrive very soon. I promise.’

Gritting her teeth, she watched him drop gracefully into the chair beside her. At work it had been easy to tell herself that the tension between them was just some kind of personality clash or a battle of wills. Now, though, she could see that ever since she’d met Ram that first time, the battle had been raging inside her.

A battle between her brain and her body...between common sense and her basest carnal urges. And, much as she would have liked to deny it, or pretend it wasn’t true, the sexual pull between them was as real and tangible as the bottles of still and sparkling water on the table. So much so that only by pressing her fingers into the armrests of her chair could she stop herself from reaching out to touch the smooth curve of his jaw.

Her hand twitched. It was like trying to ignore a mosquito bite. The urge to scratch was overwhelming.

But surely walking into this restaurant with him was just what she’d needed to remind her why it was best not to give in to that urge—for Ram wasn’t just her boss. He was way out of her league.

In a room filled with beautiful people, he was the unashamed focus of every eye. As he’d strolled casually to their table conversations had dwindled and even the waiters had seemed to freeze; it had been as though everyone in the restaurant had taken a sort of communal breath.

And it was easy to see why.

Glancing up, she felt a jolt of hunger spike inside her.

There was something about him that commanded attention. Of course he looked amazing—each feature, from his long dark eyelashes to the tiny scar on his cheekbone, looked as though it had been lovingly executed by an artist. But it wasn’t just his dark, sculpted looks that tugged at the senses. He had a quality of certainty that was unique, compelling, irresistible.

He was the ultimate cool boy at school, she decided. And now he was sitting next to her, his arm resting casually over the back of her chair, the scent of his cologne making a dizzy heat spread over her skin.

Unable to stop herself, she glanced sideways and felt her breath catch in her throat.

He was just too ridiculously beautiful.

As though sensing her focus, he turned, and the air was punched out of her lungs as his dark grey gaze scanned her face.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing,’ she lied. ‘Are you going to tell me who we’re meeting?’ She tried to arrange her expression into that same mix of casual and professional that he projected so effortlessly. ‘Are they local?’

‘They’re a little bigger than just Australia. It’s Craig Aldin and Will Fraser. They own—’

‘A&F Freight,’ she finished his sentence. ‘That’s the—’

‘The biggest logistics company in the southern hemisphere.’

His eyes glittered as he in turn finished her sentence, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. ‘Maybe we should try ordering dinner this way. It would be like a new game: gastronomic consequences.’

She tried not to respond to that smile, but it was like trying to resist gravity.

‘It could be fun,’ she said cautiously. ‘Although we might end up with some challenging flavour combinations.’

His eyes didn’t leave her face. ‘Well, I’ve never been that vanilla in my tastes,’ he said softly.

Her heart banged against her ribs like a bird hitting a window. There it was again—that spark of danger and desire, her flint striking his steel.

But as he picked up the water bottle and filled her glass she bit her lip, felt a knot forming in her stomach. Flirting with Ram in this crowded restaurant might feel safe. Playing with fire, however, was never a good idea—and especially not with a man who was as experienced and careless with women as he was.

She needed to remember that the next time he made her breath jerk in her throat, but right now she needed to dampen that flame and steer the conversation back to work.

‘Is A&F looking to upgrade its system?’ she asked quickly, ignoring the mocking gleam in his eyes.

Ram stared at her for a moment and then shrugged.

It was the same every time. Back and forth. Gaining her trust, then losing it again. Like trying to stroke a feral cat. Just as he thought he was close enough to touch, she’d retreat. It was driving him mad.

He shifted in his seat, wishing he could shift the ache inside his body. If he couldn’t persuade her to relax soon he was going to do himself some permanent damage.

His eyes drifted lazily over her body. In that cream blouse, dark skirt and stockings, and with those blue eyes watching him warily across the table, she looked more like a sleek Siamese than the feisty street cat she’d been channelling in their meeting that morning.

‘Yes—and soon. That’s why I want you to meet with them today.’

As he put the bottle back on the table his hand brushed against hers, and suddenly she was struggling to remember what he’d just said, let alone figure out how to reply.

‘Thank you,’ she said finally.

His expression was neutral. ‘Of course it might mean coming back to Australia.’

Frowning, she looked into his face. ‘That won’t be a problem.’

‘Really? It’s just that you live on the other side of the world. I thought you might have somebody missing you. Someone significant.’

Nola blinked. How had they ended up talking about this? About her private life.

Ram Walker was too damn sharp for his own good. He made connections that were barely visible while she was still struggling to join the dots.

His gaze was so intense that suddenly she wanted to lift her hand and shield her face. But instead she thought about her flat, with its high ceilings and shabby old sofas. It was her home, and she loved it, but it wasn’t a somebody. Truthfully, there hadn’t been anyone in her life since Connor.

Her throat tightened. Connor—with his sweet face and his floppy hair. And his desire to be liked. A desire that had meant betraying her trust in the most humiliating way possible. He hadn’t quite matched up to her father’s level of unreliability, but then, he’d only been in her life a matter of months.

Of course since their break-up she hadn’t taken a vow of celibacy. She’d gone out with a couple of men on more than a couple of dates and they’d been pleasant enough. But none had been memorable, and right now the only significant living thing in her flat was a cactus called Colin.

She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said at last. ‘Anna’s the home bird. I’ve no desire to tie myself down any time soon. I like my independence too much.’

Ram nodded. Letting his gaze wander over her face, he took in the flushed cheeks and the dilated pupils and felt a tug down low in his stomach. A pulse of heat flickered beneath his skin.

Independence. The word tasted sweet and dark and glossy in his mouth—like a cherry bursting against his tongue. At that moment, had he believed in soulmates, he would have thought he’d found his. For here was a woman who was not afraid to be herself. To stand alone in the world.

His heart was pounding. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone—anything. If only he could reach over and pull her against him, strip her naked and take her right here, right now—

But instead a waiter brought over some bread and, grateful for the nudge back to reality, Ram leaned back in his chair, trying to school his thoughts, his breathing, his body, into some sort of order.

‘She’s impressive, your partner,’ he said, when finally the waiter left them alone.

He watched her face soften, the blue eyes widen with affection, and suddenly he wondered how it would feel to be the object of that incredible gaze. For someone to care that much about him.

The idea made him feel strangely vulnerable and, picking up his glass, he downed his water so that it hit his stomach with a thump.

She nodded eagerly. ‘She was always top of the class.’

He nodded. ‘I can believe that. But I wasn’t talking about her tech skills. It’s her attitude that’s her real strength. She’s pragmatic; she understands the value of compromise. Whereas you...’

He paused, and Nola felt her skin tighten. That was Anna in a nutshell. But how could Ram know that? They’d only met once, when they’d signed the contracts.

And then her muscles tensed, her body squirming with nerves at what he might be about to reveal about her.

‘You, on the other hand, are a rebel.’

Reaching out, he ran his hand lightly over her sleeve and she felt a thrill like the jolt of electricity. This wasn’t like any conversation she’d ever had. It was more like a dance—a dazzling dance with quick, complicated steps that only they understood.

She swallowed. ‘What kind of rebel works for the system?’

Beneath the lights, his eyes gleamed like brushed steel. ‘You might look corporate on the outside, but if I scratched the surface I’d find a hacker beneath. Unlike your partner—unlike most people, really—you like to cross boundaries, take risks. You’re not motivated by money; you like the challenge.’

The hum of chatter and laughter faded around them and a pulse began to beat loudly inside her head. Reaching forward to pick up her glass, she cleared her throat with difficulty.

‘You’re making me sound a lot edgier than I am,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m actually just a “white hat”.’

‘Of course you are!’

Ram shifted in his seat, his thigh brushing against her leg so that her hand twitched around the stem of the glass. It was a gambler’s tell—a tiny, visible sign of the tension throbbing between them.

‘It’s not like I’d ever catch you hanging out in some grimy internet café with a bunch of wannabe anarchists.’

He lounged back in his seat, one eyebrow lifted, challenging her to contradict him.

Remembering their first meeting, Nola felt her heart beat faster, her stomach giving way to that familiar mix of apprehension and fascination, the sense that there was something pulling them inexorably closer.

But even as she felt her skin grow warm his teasing words stirred something inside her. Suddenly the desire to tease him back was overwhelming—to put the heat on him, to watch those grey eyes turn molten.

‘Actually, wannabe anarchists are usually pretty harmless—like sheep. It’s the wolf in sheep’s clothing you need to worry about.’

She kept her expression innocent, but heat cascaded down through her belly as his gaze locked onto hers with the intensity of a tractor beam. A small, urgent voice in the back of her head was warning her to back down, to stop playing Russian roulette with the man who’d loaded the gun she was holding to her head.

But then suddenly he smiled, and just like that nothing seemed to matter except being the focus of his undivided attention. It was easy to forget he was self-serving and arrogant...easy to believe that breaking the rules—her rules—wouldn’t matter just this once.

Her heart began to beat faster.

Except she knew from experience that it would matter. And that smile wasn’t a challenge. It was a warning—a red light flashing. Danger! Keep away!

Breathing in, she gave him a quick, neutral smile of her own. ‘Now, this menu!’ Holding her smile in place, she forced a casual note into her voice. ‘My French is pretty non-existent, so I might need a little help ordering.’

‘Don’t worry. I speak it fluently.’

‘You do?’ She gazed at him, torn between disbelief and wonder.

He shrugged. ‘My mother always wanted to live in Paris, but it didn’t work out. So she sent me to school there.’

Nola frowned. ‘Paris! You mean Paris in France?’

‘I don’t think they speak French in Paris, Texas.’

His face was expressionless. but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before.

Her eyes met his, then bounced away. ‘That’s such a long way from here,’ she said slowly.

‘I suppose it is.’

Her pulse twitched.

It would have been easy to take his reply at face value, as just another of those glib, offhand remarks people made to keep a conversation running smoothly.

But something had shifted in his voice—or rather left it. The teasing warmth had gone, had been replaced by something cool and dismissive that pricked her skin like the sting of a wasp.

It was her cue to back off—and maybe she would have done so an hour earlier. But this was the first piece of personal information he had ever shared with her.

She cleared her throat. ‘So how old were you?’

Along the back of her seat, she could feel the muscles in his arm tensing.

‘Seven.’ He gazed at her steadily. ‘It was a good school. I had a great education there.’

She knew her face had stiffened into some kind of answering smile—she just hoped it looked more convincing than it felt. Nodding, she said quickly, ‘I’m sure. And learning another language is such an opportunity.’

‘It has its uses.’ He spoke tonelessly. ‘But I wasn’t talking about speaking French. Being away taught me to rely on myself. To trust my own judgement. Great life lessons—and brilliant for business.’

Did he ever think of anything else? Nola wondered. Surely he must have been homesick or lonely? But the expression on his face made it clear that it was definitely time to change the subject.

Glancing down at her menu again, she said quickly, ‘So, what do you recommend?’

‘That depends on what you like to eat.’

Looking up, she saw with relief that the tightness in his face had eased.

‘The fish is great here, and they do fantastic steaks.’ He frowned. ‘I forgot to ask. You do eat meat?’

She nodded.

‘And no allergies?’

His words were innocent enough, but there was a lazy undercurrent in his voice that made the palms of her hands grow damp, and her heart gave a thump as his eyes settled on her face.

‘Apart from to me, I mean...’

Her insides tightened, and a prickling heat spread over her cheeks and throat as she gave him a small, tight, polite smile.

‘I’m not allergic to you, Mr Walker.’ She bit her lip, her eyes meeting his. ‘For a start, allergies tend to be involuntary.’

‘Oh, I see. So you’re choosing to ignore this thing between us?’

She swallowed, unable to look away from his dark, mocking gaze.

‘If by “ignore” you mean not behave in an unprofessional and inappropriate manner, then, yes, I am,’ she said crisply.

He studied her face in silence, and as she gazed into his flawless features a tingling heat seeped through her limbs, cocooning her body so she felt drowsy and blurred around the edges.

‘So you do admit that there is something between us?’

His words sent a pulse up her spine, bringing her to her senses instantly, and she felt a rush of adrenaline. Damn him! She was in security. It was her job to keep out unwanted intruders, to keep important data secret. So why was it that she fell into each and every one of his traps with such humiliating ease?

She wasn’t even sure how he did it. No one else had ever managed to get under her skin so easily. But he seemed not only able to read her mind, but to turn her inside out so that she had nowhere to hide. It made her feel raw, flayed, vulnerable.

Remembering the last time she had felt so vulnerable, she shivered. Connor’s betrayal still had the power to hurt. But, even though she knew now that it was her ego not her heart that he’d damaged, no good was going to come of confessing any of that to Ram—a man who had zero interest in emotions, his own and other people’s.

And that was why this conversation was going to stop.

Lifting her chin, she met his gaze with what she hoped was an expression of cool composure.

‘I don’t think a business meeting is really the right time to have this particular conversation,’ she said coolly. ‘But, as you have a girlfriend, I’m not sure when or where would be right.’

‘Girlfriend?’ He seemed genuinely surprised. ‘If you mean Clio, then, yes, she’s female. But “girlfriend”? That would be stretching it. And don’t look so outraged. She knows exactly what’s on offer, and she’s grateful to take it.’

She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Grateful! For what? For being fortunate enough to have sex with the great Ramsay Walker?’

‘In a nutshell.’

He seemed amused rather than annoyed.

‘You surprise me, Ms Mason. Given the nature of your job, I thought you of all people would know that it pays to look beneath the surface.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘You really shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet.’

A quivering irritation flickered through her brain, like static on the radio.

‘Is that right? So, for example, all those times you’re meant to have said you don’t want to get married or have children—that was all lies? You were misquoted?’

Ram stared past her, felt the breath whipping out of him. Used to women who sought to soothe and seduce, he felt her directness like a rogue wave, punching him off his feet. Who did she think she was, to question him like this? To put him, his life, under a spotlight?

But beneath his exasperation he could feel his body responding to the heat sparking in her eyes.

Ignoring his uneven heartbeat, he met her furious blue gaze. ‘I’m not in the business of explaining myself, Ms Mason. But this one time I’ll answer your question. I wasn’t misquoted. Everything I said was and is true. I have no desire whatsoever to marry or have children.’

That was an understatement. Marriage had never been a priority for him. Parenthood even less so. And for good reason. Both might appear to offer security and satisfaction, but it had been a long time since he’d believed in the myths they promised.

Out in the bay, the Opera House was lit up, its sails gleaming ghost-white. But it was the darkness that drew his gaze. For a moment he let it blot out the twisting mass of feelings that were rising up inside him, unbidden and unwelcome.

Commitment came at a cost, and he knew that the debt would never be paid. A wife and a child were a burden—a responsibility he simply didn’t want. Had never once wanted.

And he didn’t intend to start now.

Leaning back in his chair, he shrugged. ‘Marriage and parenthood are just a Mobius strip of emotional scenes that quite frankly I can do without. I’m sorry if that offends your romantic sensibilities, Ms Mason, but that’s how I choose to live my life.’

There was a moment of absolute silence.

Nola drew a breath. By ‘romantic’, he clearly meant deluded, soppy and hopelessly outdated. It was also obvious that he thought her resistance to him was driven not by logic but by a desire for something more meaningful than passion.

She felt a pulse of anger beneath her skin. Maybe it was time to disabuse him of that belief.

Eyes narrowing, she stared at him coldly. ‘Sorry to disillusion you, Mr Walker, but I don’t have any “romantic sensibilities”. I don’t crave a white wedding. Nor am I hunting for a husband to make my life complete. So if I actually had an opinion on how you live your life it would be that I have no problem with it at all.’

His watched—no—inspected her in silence, so that the air seemed to swell painfully in her lungs.

‘But you do have a problem...’ He paused, and the intent expression on his face made her insides tighten and her throat grow dry and scratchy. ‘You think I say something different in private to the women you refer to as my “girlfriends”.’

He shook his head slowly. ‘Then it’s my turn to disillusion you. I don’t make false promises. Why would I? It’s not as if I need to. I always get exactly what I want in the end.’

She shook her head. ‘You’re so arrogant.’

‘I’m being honest. Isn’t that what you wanted from me?’

‘I don’t want anything from you,’ she said hoarsely, trying to ignore the heat scalding her skin, ‘except a salary and a reference. I certainly have no interest in being some accessory to your louche lifestyle.’

Watching his mouth curl into a slow, sexy smile, she felt her stomach drop as though the legs of her chair had snapped.

‘So why are you blushing?’ he asked softly. ‘Surely not because of my “louche lifestyle”. I thought you were more open-minded than that.’

She glowered at him.

‘I’m as open-minded as the next woman. But not if it means being a part of your harem. That’s never been one of my fantasies.’

‘Sadly, I’m going to have to put your fantasies on hold,’ he said softly, raising his hand in a gesture of greeting to the two tall blond men who were weaving their way towards them. ‘Our guests are here. But maybe we could discuss them after dinner?’

* * *

‘I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you relax since you arrived.’

Glancing up at Ram, Nola frowned.

Dinner was over, and his limo had dropped them back at the RWI building. Now they were standing in the lift.

Like many of his remarks, it could be read in so many ways. But she was too tired to do anything but take it at face value.

‘It was fun,’ she said simply. ‘I enjoyed the food and the company.’

He did a mock stagger. ‘I’m flattered.’

Glancing up, she saw that he was smiling, and she felt a panicky rush of nerves. In daylight, Ram Walker was flawless but unattainable. Now it was night-time, and beneath the low lighting, with his top button undone and a shadow of stubble grazing his face, he looked like the perfect after-dark female fantasy.

But the point about fantasies was that they were never supposed to become reality, she told herself quickly.

Shaking her head, she gave him a small, careful smile. ‘I suppose it hasn’t occurred to you that I might be talking about Craig and Will?’

His eyes gleamed. ‘Nope.’

She swallowed. ‘They’re nice people.’

‘And I’m not?’

Her throat felt as though it was closing up. And, was it her imagination, or was the lift getting smaller and hotter?

‘You can be,’ she said cautiously. She felt her pulse twitch beneath his gaze. ‘But I don’t know you very well. We don’t know each other very well.’

Suddenly she was struggling to breathe, and her heart was beating very fast.

He smiled. ‘Oh, I think we know each other very well, Nola!’

Her stomach dropped as though the lift cable had suddenly snapped, and somewhere at the edge of her vision stars were flickering—only that couldn’t be right for they weren’t outside.

‘And I think you’re a lot like me,’ he said softly. ‘You’re focused, and determined, and you like breaking the rules. Even when you’re scared of the consequences.’

There was a tiny shift in the air...softer than a sigh.

She watched, dry-mouthed, her stomach twisting into knots as he reached out and ran his finger along her cheekbone. She could feel her heartbeat echoing inside her head like footsteps fleeing. As she should be.

Except that she couldn’t move—could hardly breathe.

He moved closer, sliding his hand through her hair.

‘When I met you in that café you took my breath away. You still do.’

There was silence as she struggled to speak, struggled against the ridiculous pleasure his words provoked. Pleasure she knew she shouldn’t acknowledge, let alone feel. Not for her boss anyway.

But maybe she was making too big a deal about that. He might be a CEO, but he was just a man, and as a woman she was his equal. Besides, as of tomorrow he wouldn’t even be her boss.

The thought jumped inside her head like popping candy, and then somehow her hand was on his arm, the magnetic pull between them impossible to resist.

‘Ram...’ She whispered his name and he stared down at her mutely. His eyes were dark and fierce, and she could see that he was struggling for control.

She felt a shiver of panic tumble down her spine.

But why?

What did she care if he was struggling? So was she. Like her, he was fighting himself—fighting this desire.

Desire.

The word jangled inside her head like a warning bell, for was desire a big enough reason to play truth or dare with this man? After all, she knew the risks, knew the consequences.

Her head was spinning. Memories of that first kiss with Connor were slip-sliding into an image of his face, resentful and distant, on that last day.

But there was no reason it would be the same with Ram.

Nola knew she had been reckless with Connor—clueless, really. She’d jumped off the highest board and hoped for what? Love? A soulmate? A future? But this was never going to be anything but lust. There was no expectation. No need to make promises.

And, most importantly, there would be no consequences. After tomorrow they would never see one another again. It would be a perfect moment of pure passion. So why shouldn’t she give in to it?

But even as the question formed in her mind she knew two things. One, it was purely rhetorical. And two, it was too late.

The warmth of his body had melted away the last of her resistance; the battle was already lost.

And, as though he could read her mind, Ram leaned forward and kissed her.

* * *

Groaning softly, he reached out blindly for the wall of the lift, trying to steady himself. He’d expected to feel something—hell, how could he not after the tension that had been building between them for weeks?—but the touch of her lips on his was like being knocked sideways by a rogue wave.

His head was spinning. Somewhere, the world was still turning, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was here and now and Nola. Her body was melting into him, moving as he moved, her breath and his breath were one and the same. He felt her lips part and, deepening the kiss, he pulled her closer.

As the doors opened he pulled her against him and out of the lift. Hands sliding over each other, they staggered backwards, drunkenly banging into walls, barely noticing the impact. Somehow they reached his office, and as he pushed open the door they stumbled into the room as one.

Nola reached out for him, her fingers clutching the front of his shirt. He could feel her heart pounding, hear her breath coming in gasps. She pulled him closer and, groaning softly, he wrapped his fingers around hers and dragged her arms behind her back, holding her captive.




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