‘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.
Ram shuddered. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst and, reaching down, he jerked her closer, crushing her body against his. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Breathing out shakily, he nudged her backwards, guiding her towards the sofa.
As they slid onto the cushions he dragged his mouth from hers and she gazed up at him, her eyes huge and dazed.
His breath caught in his throat. He wanted her so badly, but he needed to know that she wanted what he wanted—what he could give.
‘I don’t do for ever. Or happy-ever-after. This is about now. About you and me. If you’re hoping for something more than that—’
In answer, she looped her arm about his neck, gripping him tightly. ‘Stop talking and kiss me,’ she whispered, her fingers tugging at his arms, his shirt, his belt.
He knew that relief must be showing on his face, but for once he didn’t care that he’d shown his true feelings. She had said what he wanted to hear and, lowering his mouth, he kissed her fiercely. As her lips parted he caught hold of the front of her blouse and tugged it loose.
Instantly he felt his groin harden. For a moment his eyes fed hungrily on the soft, pale curve of her stomach, and the small rounded breasts in the black lace bra.
She was beautiful—every bit as beautiful as he’d imagined.
Kidnapped for the Tycoon's Baby Page 4