by Diana Fraser
For some reason there seemed a direct line to more intimate parts of her body. She jerked back. “It’s a professional relationship. Nothing more.”
“Who’s to say it can’t be both?”
“I say.”
He dropped her hand suddenly. “It’s up to you. If you don’t want to pursue it, then we won’t.
“But my job?”
He stood up and strode to the windows, staring out at the dark night. “Do you really think I’d dismiss you because you won’t sleep with me? For God’s sake, give me some credit. You’re just the sort of PA I’ve been wanting, needing, for years.”
Guilt swept through her. What was she doing? How had she ever turned herself into a woman prepared to deceive and ruin a man for revenge? And not just any man, but this man whose one look melted her inside, making her forget everything, except the need to feed the growing hunger.
The power of his mind and of his body pressed upon her, demanding a response.
She rose. She had to be strong; she knew he’d despise anything else. As she approached him, she hardly knew what she was going to do and she could see the answering tension in his face, around his mouth, his lips.
She dragged her gaze up from his lips to meet his eyes, now unreadable, guarded. She paused, feeling almost consumed by the throbbing pulse of anticipation and need, her body screaming out for satisfaction. Just one step and she could satisfy it. The breath caught in her throat, encapsulating her inner struggle and just one word came to her mind.
Danny.
“I’ll be your PA, but nothing more.”
“That’s fine.” He said, too hastily.
“Look—”
“Go to bed, Cassandra. Go now.” It was no kind-hearted suggestion. It was a command, to be instantly obeyed.
“Good night then.”
She hesitated, waiting to hear him wish her “good-night”, not wanting to leave it like this. But there was no response. His body, his face and his eyes were all quite cold. He’d cut her off completely.
“Right.” She turned slowly away from him.
Right, she repeated as she walked to the door.
This is what I wanted, she thought to herself desperately, her brows knitting and tears threatening now that he couldn’t see her. Then why did it feel the opposite?
CHAPTER SIX
He would have her. He’d worked off some of the frustration in the gym. But he still had a consuming need for Cassandra.
He knew she’d be expecting business as usual. The cold anger that had consumed him the previous evening had gone, leaving him in control once more. He was calling the shots and he’d play her just as she was playing him. He knew she’d be expecting him to be cool and professional. Well he wasn’t in the mood for providing the expected. He wanted her and she’d know it.
He flung open the door to reception. “Where’s Cassandra?”
“She’s at lunch, she—”
“I want her here, now, before my 9 o’clock meeting. Jen! When I say ‘now’, I don’t mean after you’ve finished checking your phone messages.”
He closed the door and leaned briefly against it. He would have her.
Cassandra strode into his office with a confidence she didn’t feel. She wished he’d stop staring at her. God! This was going to be harder than she’d thought.
“I’ve brought the Stuart file.”
His gaze had a heat that threw her. Surely he’d agreed that their relationship was to be purely professional? And why didn’t he speak, God damn him?
“John Stuart and his proposal to invest through him in Knight Enterprises,” she elaborated to fill the silence.
He nodded and leaned back in his chair, his stare intense and intimate.
“Thank you for that clarification. I know who he is. Any further gems to add to the pre-meeting brief?”
Oh, boy, this was going to be tough. She smiled coolly. The bastard was not going to get away with this.
“Actually yes, quite a lot.”
He leaned further back in the chair, challenging her with his arrogant stance and with his unrelenting gaze. “Can’t wait to hear it.”
It was a challenge she’d meet though. He was making it clear that, while he was angry, he still wanted her. And the worst of it was that it was reciprocal. She wanted him as badly. Or rather, her body did. But she was determined that her mind would win over her traitorous body. It had to. Or else it would have all have been for nothing.
She had to make it equally clear that there was no way she would have sex with Dallas Mackenzie. And what better way to begin than to give him some bad news.
“Then I’ll begin.” She flicked open her laptop. “Knight Properties is a good solid family business. But—” She made the mistake of looking up at him, caught momentarily by his steely gaze, arrested by the sight of his fingers tapping a pen. She swallowed.
His eyes softened slightly, a smile hovering around his lips. “But what? Why are you so against this proposition, Cassandra?”
For a moment, swayed by the way his eyes bored into hers, Cassandra thought he was talking about a different proposition.
However, unlike her, whatever he was thinking was controlled. His attention was all on the business. “My management team has OK’d it,” he continued, relentless in his focus.
She looked back down at her laptop. It was the only way she could concentrate. “It’s not about the business. That’s great. It’s a good solid business and the family who own it are happy to have others join them. They need an injection of capital to see them over some major refurbishment work on one of their office blocks. But it will come right and it could be an excellent investment.”
“So. Cassandra.” It wasn’t the two words that disturbed her—although each was spoken as if it were a complete sentence containing complex meaning—but the tone he used. Suggestive. Loaded with intent.
He stood up suddenly and walked behind her. She froze at the feel of his touch on her shoulders, his hand on hers as he removed her fingers from the laptop keys. Bending over, he brought his cheek alongside hers as he flicked open a new web page. He didn’t move for a several seconds, obviously aware of the effect his presence was having on her, and wanting to prolong it. But, as a smile flickered on his lips, he slowly withdrew and returned to his seat.
“Are you all right Cassandra? You look a little flushed.”
She glared at him, ignoring his question. “This is Knight’s website.”
“Well spotted. Explain further why I shouldn’t invest. If the figures stack up, I want in. You know I can recognize a good thing when I see it.”
Cassandra swallowed hard and refused to meet his eyes as he sat back down at his desk. Instead, she switched pointlessly between programs on her laptop. “Because I suspect that John wants to strip the company of its assets and use them in some of his other businesses that are by no means as sound as this one.”
“It’s not unheard of. Nothing new. We’ll be repaid handsomely for our investment.”
“But the family who own it know nothing about these plans. They are simply seeking an investment partner to see them through a tricky patch. They’re resigned to knowing it’ll be for the long term, but to asset strip? They have no idea.”
“Mackenzie Investments is about making money, Cassandra. It’s not about making friends; it’s not about holding people’s hands as they flounder through their business lives. If they can’t deal with it, they need to get out.”
Incensed at his lack of feeling, all thought of her own discomfort was forgotten. “Dallas. It’s your company and your decision. I’m just advising you that it’s unethical.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Strong words. Is that how you see me? Unethical?”
“It’s what you call someone who destroys people’s lives just because they can.” She turned away, only to turn back, her eyes blazing. “For God’s sake, you’ve no right to destroy someone just because you can. There are people’s lives at stake here. You can�
��t ride rough shod over people. Not even the smallest child.” She took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm herself. She could see Dallas had registered her extreme response, had noticed that her arguments had veered to the personal.
“What’s this really about, Cassandra?”
She tried to backtrack. “Assuming you did invest, assuming that the deal went ahead. After, I estimate, two years you’d have bled the company dry of money, you’d withdraw your support, sell it on. And then what? Who would want to deal with you again? What price your reputation?”
There was a long pause during which neither moved, just held each other’s gaze. It was Cassandra who turned away first, unable to match Dallas’s willpower.
“Must be time for my meeting. Send in John on your way out.”
Cassandra hated being dismissed but rose and left the office without a backward glance, inwardly railing at his imperious commands.
“John,” Cassandra nodded and held out her hand. But he didn’t rise out of his seat and he didn’t shake her hand. “Dallas is ready for you now.” She indicated the open door.
“Dallas seen some sense? Sending you on your way before our meeting?” He shook his head. He rose to his feet and dipped his head to hers. She tried not to recoil. “Here’s a tip, leave the business to the men.”
She stepped back, trying hard not to respond, and watched as he walked with a swagger into Dallas’s office, his too-loud greeting striking a false note that betrayed his nervousness.
Alone in her office, Cassandra sank back into her chair and wondered what she had to do to get through to Dallas. She had no idea how this meeting was going to proceed. Dallas appeared to favor investing against her recommendation. It fitted her previous image of him. Single-minded pursuit of a goal: money. But it didn’t fit the image of the man she was getting to know. Which was the correct image? She reckoned she’d only know for sure when she saw him using his funds to back someone—when he returned from the meeting and dumped an untidy bundle of papers on her desk and barked an instruction. Until then, she had to wait.
She didn’t have to wait long. She’d just dropped some mail off at reception when John came bursting out with Dallas following close behind, his brow lowered into a frown.
John stopped abruptly in front of her. “It was you, wasn’t it? Christ, what do you know other than how to wear a dress well?”
“Stop right there, John. I’ve warned you when we last met. I’m with Cassandra on this one. It’s not a deal.”
Cassandra’s gaze snapped up to Dallas. She could see he was angry but only from his utter coldness and control.
“So much for loyalty then, eh Dallas? You remember the fights I’ve got you out of? Remember them? Remember the parties, the women, the drink? You were a better man then. At least you were your own man, not being used by a woman but too besotted to see it.”
Dallas’s face was pale with fury and Cassandra reached out and placed her hand on his arm. She had to stop him before he lost control like he did at the party.
“Dallas?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, as her voice and touch registered with him, as control smoothed over the anger.
“John.” Dallas’s voice was suddenly weary. “Business is business. I’ll always be here if you need me but I’m going to let this one go. It’s not my line of work.”
“Since when?”
Dallas cast a brief glance at Cassandra.
“Since now.”
John shook his head, his face haggard and eyes bloodshot. He walked out of the office without looking back.
“I take it you didn’t invest then?” Cassandra’s tone was intentionally light.
He grinned. “You take it right.” He sighed. “Come in to my office.”
Cassandra followed him in and sat down.
“I’m sorry, Dallas. John’s your friend and he looked pretty desperate. I guess this was make or break with him?”
Dallas nodded. “John will be all right. He’s an old friend. I owe him, but not that much. I may be loyal but I never compromise on some things. And that’s principally honesty. And John wasn’t honest with me or the investment company. Honesty is important to me, Cassandra. Best to remember that.’
She nodded jerkily, trying to think of something to fill the lengthening silence and failing. Dallas gaze narrowed as he sensed her discomfort.
“You OK?”
“Yes.” Cassandra exhaled the word through barely-open lips and rose, needing to move, needing to break the tension. She walked over to the window that looked across the city, towers shining in the morning mist, and across the harbor. She felt as if the world had shifted beneath her feet and there had been no earthquake to explain the phenomenon. Only Dallas, behaving like a decent man. “So what made you change your mind?”
A slow smile curled on his lips. “Something tells me you’ve not checked your emails recently.” He turned his laptop to face her.
She shook her head in confusion and walked over to it, quickly logging in to her emails. “No, I’ve been busy, I—” She stopped talking as she saw an email from him sent over an hour before. She swiftly read it and turned back to him, arms folded, lips pursed.
“So you’d already made up your mind when you saw me? You’d actually met up with Knights and made your decision.”
“That’s right.”
“So why did you let me go on?”
“I like watching you get agitated.”
Cassandra could feel the blush rising. “You’ve been playing with me.”
He slipped forward on the edge of his seat so he was close to her. “Not as much as I’d like to.”
She closed her eyes in a vain attempt to stem the rise of desire. It didn’t.
“I’ve expected a lot from you today,” he continued as if he hadn’t just dropped a sexual innuendo into the conversation. “If you’re interested, I’ve been more than satisfied with your performance. We’ve a week-end ahead of us. Less work, a little fun. You want to continue?”
She turned to face him and they were so close she could see the different shades that made up the grey of his eyes: eyes that looked much warmer than before.
“Yes. I do. It’s what I want.’
He nodded. “I hoped you’d say that. I’ve confirmed your security access and HR will be in touch over the other standard issues.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes flitted across his face before resting on his lips, drawn close together. “So,” she couldn’t help licking her lips, “this ‘fun’ you have in mind. I thought you were a 24/7 workaholic.”
His lips curved into a smile that sent shivers through her body. “Depends who I’m with.” She wanted him to step forward, to breach the slight gap between them but he returned to his desk. “I’ll see you later.”
He should be thanking her, he thought, as his eyes followed her as she left the room.
He sighed as the door clicked shut, ran his fingers through his hair and sat down at his desk once more, checking through his emails mechanically.
Despite the ticking off—which he had to admit he deserved—he was grateful to her. She was right about engaging emotionally with people. It wasn’t purely a matter of honesty or economics that had helped him make his decision. It had been a meeting that he’d had, at Cassandra’s urging, with the family seeking investment. It had made it personal. Something he’d shied away from for more years than he could remember. And it had felt right.
That was something that he would always thank Cassandra for: her honesty in making him see a better way. However, it still didn’t mean that he would emotionally engage with people. Marriage and children were not for him and never would be. His baser impulses—the ones inherited from his father—saw to that. And those impulses were still there in plenty. He could have hurt John if Cassandra hadn’t stopped him.
He closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair at the memory of her touch on his arm. So light and yet so powerful. How did she do it? Her voice calling his name had
come to him as if through a pounding red haze and then, at her touch, he’d felt the anger recede.
The connection he had with her was like nothing he’d experienced before and he felt compelled to pursue her, if only to get her out of his mind, out of his senses. Of course, it wouldn’t go beyond the physical, he’d make sure of that. There would be no long-term future to it.
He snapped the laptop closed and turned out the light. He’d have her this week-end.
Cassandra climbed into bed that night and lay, exhausted, looking out of the window at the dark clouds scudding across the lighter colored sky.
She’d done it. She’d got past security and could access the real data. But at what cost? She was emotionally drained. The business with John had opened up the raw wound of Danny’s death and she’d had trouble containing her feelings. But she’d done it. Just in time, she’d managed to pull back and control her grief.
She’d built up the trust she needed to exact revenge. But she’d also drawn closer to Dallas than she’d intended. She’d made him open his mind to these people: to build on his belief of honest trading and make him see that he was dealing with real people, with real people’s lives. His willingness to do as she’d suggested and actually meet with the family had astounded her.
It didn’t fit with his arrogance. It didn’t fit with his “profits at any cost” reputation. It didn’t fit with her perceptions of him.
What if she were wrong? But how could she be? She’d been there. She’d seen the papers. Everything pointed to him being behind the takeover of her family’s company.
But that still didn’t stop her dreams being invaded by the feeling of his mouth against hers, of his voice whispering her name in the dark, of his hand reaching for her and finding her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Grapevines raked the valley leading the eye up to a sprawling pantiled villa set amidst an olive grove. Beyond, in the distance, an azure blue sea marked the property’s boundary from which green hills rolled in waves towards them like a rumpled carpet. Cassandra couldn’t get used to the landscape, produced by seismic activity rather than natural erosion. It was dangerous, unpredictable.