by Maya Blake
Alejandro always plays by the rules...
Alejandro Aguilar never mixes business with pleasure—but his newest employee, marketing guru Elise Jameson, is refreshingly different and irresistibly intoxicating. Working together on a high-octane multibillion-dollar merger, exhilaration gets the better of them...
Until now!
But this Spaniard is still wrestling demons from his past and he sees betrayal everywhere, including in the eyes of his temptress, Elise. So he fires her, destroying the business deal—and her heart. Until he realizes his mistake. Innocent Elise is the key to the merger, and she knows her price—but is Alejandro prepared to go all in?
‘Miss Jameson.’
It wasn’t a request. It was an order couched in a pseudo-reasonable tone.
Keep walking. She took another step.
‘Elise.’
She froze, the sound of her given name so unbelievably sensual coming from his deep, slightly accented tones that she couldn’t suppress a gasp. She slowly turned around.
‘One last thing. My company isn’t the place to find your next boyfriend or a husband. As long as you’re contracted to work for me you’ll practise a zero-fraternisation policy. I find that petty lawsuits are best avoided that way.’
‘Are you speaking from personal experience?’ she asked.
Alejandro’s face tightened into a rigid, forbidding mask. Hell, she’d struck another nerve. God, what was wrong with her?
‘That is not your concern. Just be sure to let Grandma know you’ll be disappointing her for a while longer where potential wedding bells are concerned, would you?’
Just keep walking.
Rival Brothers
When rivalry is thicker than blood…
Estranged brothers Alejandro and Gael Aguilar are titans of technology and each other’s biggest rivals.
It will take two special women to help these sexy Spaniards put the past behind them and join forces to become more powerful than they ever dreamed!
Battle commences in…
A Deal with Alejandro
And find who will be victorious in…
One Night with Gael
Available November 2016
A Deal with Alejandro
Maya Blake
www.millsandboon.co.uk
MAYA BLAKE’s hopes of becoming a writer were born when she picked up her first romance at thirteen. Little did she know her dream would come true! Does she still pinch herself every now and then to make sure it’s not a dream? Yes, she does! Feel free to pinch her, too, via Twitter, Facebook or Goodreads! Happy reading!
Books by Maya Blake
Mills & Boon Modern Romance
Signed Over to Santino
A Diamond Deal with the Greek
A Marriage Fit for a Sinner
Married for the Prince’s Convenience
Innocent in His Diamonds
His Ultimate Prize
Marriage Made of Secrets
The Sinful Art of Revenge
The Price of Success
The Billionaire’s Legacy
The Di Sione Secret Baby
Secret Heirs of Billionaires
Brunetti’s Secret Son
The Untameable Greeks
What the Greek’s Money Can’t Buy
What the Greek Can’t Resist
What the Greek Wants Most
The 21st Century Gentleman’s Club
The Ultimate Playboy
Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Introduction
Rival Brothers
Title Page
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Extract
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
ALEJANDRO AGUILAR STEPPED out of a bracing, ice-cold shower to the sound of a ringing phone. At 4:00 a.m. such an occurrence would have alarmed most people. He already had a fair idea of why his early-morning routine was being disturbed.
Crossing the master bedroom suite of his Chicago penthouse, he draped the towel round his neck and picked up the phone.
‘Is it done?’
A muted sigh from his chief strategist, Wendell Grant, greeted him. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but they wouldn’t be swayed. We’ve thrown everything at them, including my firstborn son.’
The attempt at humour fell flat, causing the weary-sounding man to clear his throat uncomfortably.
Alejandro’s grip tightened on the handset, the inkling he’d harboured for several weeks expanding to nape-tingling certainty. There were far too many indicators to ignore the suspicion any longer.
‘Frankly, I’m at a loss as to why they’ve suddenly become so intransigent,’ Wendell continued. ‘The Ishikawa brothers’ team refuses to even discuss what the problem is beyond stating that they need more time.’
Alejandro knew what the problem was. The heads of the Japanese e-commerce conglomerate were protracting the deal, which should’ve been finalised a month ago, in order to accommodate a third party’s interest.
‘How did you leave things?’ he asked.
‘They’ve asked for a few more days. We tried to get an earlier date but they wouldn’t budge. We’ve agreed to a videoconference on Friday.’
‘That’s unacceptable. I’m not waiting another five days. Call them back. Tell them I want the Ishikawa brothers in conference tomorrow.’
‘Yes, sir.’
About to hang up, Alejandro sensed his executive’s reticence. ‘Is there something else?’
‘Well...I got the feeling they think they have the upper hand. The dynamic has definitely shifted...’
Hearing his suspicions voiced by another brought a clench of anger to Alejandro’s gut. If his executives had sniffed out the same issue, it was time to take over the helm again.
‘Sir? Is there something we should know?’
Alejandro squashed his ire. ‘I’ll take it from here. Extend my gratitude to the team and tell everyone to take the day off. You’ve earned it.’
‘You still want me to make the call?’ Wendell asked.
‘No. I’ll take care of it.’ Now that he knew with whom he was dealing, it was time the gloves came off.
‘If you’re sure, then I better get home to my wife before she serves me with divorce papers.’ Another weary laugh, which fizzled away, the other man sensing Alejandro’s tense mood. ‘Oh, one last thing. I had my assistant compile the shortlist of PR firms for you. Jameson PR has the most extensive experience in Asia. I think at this stage we need all the help we can get.’
Alejandro finished the call and hung up. Snatching the towel from around his neck, he dropped it and padded naked to his dressing room. His signature grey suits, black shirts and bespoke pinstripe ties were within easy reach. Selecting a charcoal suit, he dressed with military efficiency, and was heading out of the door fifteen minutes later.
The drive to the Loop, the financial heart of Chicago, took less than ten minutes. The early hour meant very little traffic and Alejandro gained marginal satisfaction from letting the engine of his Bugatti Veyron roar along the quiet streets.
But nothing could ease the iron-hard fist of unwelcome knowledge trapped in his gut. Nor the accompanying rage that mounted with each passing second.
He’d
moved from Spain, the country of his birth, to California at the age of twenty-one, and then relocated to Chicago a year after that because he’d wanted nothing to do with his family. The move from Spain had been to remove himself as soon as it was legally possible from the volatile quagmire that was his parents’ sham of a marriage. Alejandro had put several thousand miles between himself and the two individuals biology had used to create him, and never looked back. Little did he know he’d been placing himself within touching distance of another powder keg in the form of his half-brother.
Gael Aguilar.
He was half of the equation that had worsened the acrimony in Alejandro’s life over two decades ago. Gael and his mother had put faces on the hitherto faceless monsters that were his father’s indiscretions. Those monsters had grown until Alejandro had had no choice but to leave the only home he’d known.
But the nightmare hadn’t been ready to let him be.
Gael had arrived in California shortly after him. And Silicon Valley hadn’t been large enough to contain the two of them. Especially when his younger half-brother had started making himself a nuisance by going after the same deals Alejandro showed interest in. Wiping out Gael’s burgeoning e-commerce start-up would’ve been an easy accomplishment for Alejandro. But that would’ve indicated he cared one iota about the life he’d put behind him. It would’ve given the impression that the countless instances of infidelity, rancour and falsehood that had peppered his childhood still had the power to matter.
So he’d walked away.
He might be an Aguilar, but he was so in name only. Nothing about it was worthy of being lauded. He’d cut all ties. As far as he was concerned, he existed in this world alone.
Except his half-brother hadn’t got the memo. A decade after meeting for the second and final time, it appeared Gael was determined to insert himself into Alejandro’s business once again. Or at the very least, scurry away with the deal Alejandro had worked tirelessly to pull together.
Turning off his engine, he launched himself from the car and crossed the underground car park of his company’s building. Entering the lift that would take him to the top-floor offices of SNV International, he recalled that last exchange with his brother when Gael had found out he was leaving California.
‘I hear you’re relocating your business. Why? You scared I’m going to show you up?’ Gael’s white smile, cocksure, taunting and tinged with bravado, had reminded Alejandro too much of their father’s, eliciting nothing but cold indifference.
‘Don’t kid yourself. My company is successful enough to thrive anywhere in the world. But perhaps you should count your lucky stars that I’m leaving and removing myself from the temptation to crush you into the dirt. This way you at least have a hope of making something of yourself.’
His brother’s smile had evaporated like mist in sunshine. A look Alejandro had ironically recognised in himself—one of implacable will and determination—had passed over Gael’s features.
‘I look forward to the day when I make you swallow those words, hermano.’
Alejandro had shrugged and walked away. He hadn’t bothered to tell Gael they would never be true brothers because they’d never meet again. Crossing paths once when they were teenagers had been bad enough. A second time, in their twenties, was overkill.
He’d thought there wouldn’t be a third.
Except, walking away hadn’t ended it. Foolishly, it seemed Gael had taken offence at his words at their last meeting. And like a damn virus he was determined to corrupt as many of Alejandro’s dealings as he could.
He strode into his office as the April sun rose over Lake Michigan. Normally, he stopped to admire the view as he enjoyed his morning espresso. This Monday, however, he tossed his car keys on his desk, tugged off his jacket and went to work.
By 9:00 a.m. he had definite confirmation that it was indeed Gael meddling with the Japanese deal.
He sat back in his chair, fingers tented together as he forced down the acid bite of distaste. Gael’s company, Toredo Inc., had grown into an e-commerce powerhouse second only to Alejandro’s own company. Not for a single moment had that reality fazed him. His company was worth billions, and more than held its own in the industry. At times when he felt generous, he even welcomed Toredo’s competition.
Not this time. Bagging this deal would launch SNV into an echelon of its own. It would be the culmination of the success he’d striven for since walking away from the tatters of what the common man termed a family. Others might accommodate such failures. He didn’t. He’d cut his losses on an irredeemable life because nothing he did could fix what was permanently broken. Instead he’d concentrated on what he was successful at. He’d made his first million at twenty-four, just before he left California. In the ten years since, he’d risen to the top.
The Ishikawa deal would be his crowning glory. He’d worked too long and hard to see it dismantled by Gael.
His strategy team had suggested hiring a PR company experienced in dealing with Japanese companies to work alongside his in-house PR department. Alejandro had shelved the idea until negotiations had stalled. Although he still had his doubts as to the efficacy of employing an outside PR company, he opened the first file.
The headshot caught his attention immediately, although, staring at the picture critically, Alejandro couldn’t pinpoint why. Her mouth was too wide and full, her nose a little too perfectly pointed. Her almond-shaped hazel-gold eyes held too many shadows, and, for his taste, she was wearing a little too much make-up; he preferred the natural look. The shadows and the make-up alone jarred him further into memories he didn’t want to dwell on. Like the memories of his brother, they were reminiscent of a past he’d striven hard to forget.
Yet he couldn’t drag his gaze away from Elise Jameson’s picture. The almost absurd notion that if he stared for long enough the image would come to life gripped him. His gaze dropped past her jaw and neck and he experienced the tiniest stab of regret that there wasn’t more to see.
Gritting his teeth, he perused her academic accomplishments, which were impressive enough to compel him to read on. The discovery that Jameson PR was a family company brought a twisted smile, but Alejandro suppressed the useless threat of emotion. Not every family was as dysfunctional as the one he’d left behind.
Suficiente!
He needed his head screwed on straight to see this merger through, not spend time dwelling on the past. He moved on to the other two files. Within minutes he’d dismissed the other candidates.
When he found himself staring at the headshot again, he reached for the phone.
‘Margo, set up an interview with the Jameson PR people for this afternoon, would you?’
‘Umm, one of their executives is already here. Shall I send her in? Your diary is free since you’ve cleared most of your appointments already.’
He frowned. ‘They came here on the off chance I’d want to see them?’ Alejandro wasn’t sure whether to applaud them for their brazenness or condemn them for wasting valuable man hours on the likelihood of being hired by SNV.
‘Wendell thought it might be prudent in case you wanted to move quickly on the PR front.’
Alejandro made a mental note to increase his team leader’s bonus. His gaze dropped to the headshot. ‘Which representative from Jameson is here?’
‘It’s a junior executive—Elise Jameson. I can arrange for a senior member to come in if you pref—’
‘No, it’s fine. Send her in.’ He would glean as much from the younger Jameson as he would from her parents. Besides, he didn’t have time to waste. ‘I’d like some fresh coffee, too. Gracias.’
A brisk knock on the door a few minutes later brought his head up.
Margo entered first, wheeling in a tray of coffee. Alejandro’s gaze swung past her, his attention almost compelled to focus on the dark-haired woman who followed. A part of him disliked the fizz of compulsion almost as much as it anticipated his first glimpse of her.
True, his wholehear
ted immersion in this potential merger had left little time for physical dalliances for the better part of a year now. The occasions when he’d been tempted to indulge in carnal pleasures, the chase had surprisingly grown boring. Enough to abandon his date at the after-dinner-coffee stage on more than one occasion. Nevertheless, he was a red-blooded male, as the momentary tightening in his groin informed him now when Elise Jameson stepped into the office.
The early morning sun struck her face as she paused on the threshold, bringing every feature in her photo to vivid life. Her face was impeccably made-up, just like in her headshot, but where he’d been healthily captivated before by the glossy two-dimensional version, he was paralysingly riveted by the flesh and blood reality.
She advanced farther into the room. Her stride was confident but minimised by the navy pencil skirt whose matching jacket was secured by a single button beneath a full chest. The cut of her clothes immediately drew Alejandro’s gaze to her Venus-like body and shapely legs. Attractive. Alluring. But nothing extraordinary.
And then she smiled at a departing Margo, and realisation struck.
Elise bore an unsettling resemblance to a painting he’d once seen hanging in his father’s study when he was fourteen years old. The woman had been standing before a window with the sun shining on her arresting features. Her dark hair had been caught at the back of her head, her eyes shut and her face lifted in sun worship. The artist had captured her image from the point of view of a lover staring down at his paramour.
Their differences in height once Elise Jameson reached his desk were strikingly similar.
Except that woman had been nude.
And that painting had also caused prolonged rows between his mother and father, with one vowing to burn the painting and the other mocking the jealous fit. The painting had lasted six days before it’d disappeared. And even though he’d snuck into his father’s study to stare at it, Alejandro had been glad once it was gone.
All he’d cared about was that the rowing had ceased. Albeit, inevitably, temporarily.
He blinked the memory away, irritated with his ongoing traipse down memory lane, to find a manicured hand proffered.
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