by Lucy King
Jo’s words hit him with the force of a swinging boom and his blood turned to ice in his veins. He glanced at Phoebe, who was staring at him with a determined tilt of her chin and an arched eyebrow.
This was the woman he’d come to fire? The raven-haired goddess in the tight gold dress, who’d piqued his interest the second he’d laid eyes on her sneaking out of a side door? The woman he’d been imagining naked and warm and writhing in his arms? Something curiously like disappointment walloped him in the solar plexus. Alex rubbed his chest and frowned.
Then suspicion began to prickle at the edges of his brain. If she and his sister were working together had she colluded with her to deliberately keep him out of the proceedings? Even taking into account his natural mistrust of anyone and anything that he personally hadn’t tested to the limit, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.
Whether she had or not, dinner was off. With the ruthless control he’d honed over the years, Alex crushed the lingering flickers of desire and stashed any attraction he felt towards Phoebe behind an unbreachable wall of icy neutrality.
Hmm, thought Phoebe, watching his whole body tense and sort of freeze. For some reason the news of her identity hadn’t gone down well at all. Which was odd—she didn’t normally incite such a violent reaction in people.
‘And, Phoebe, this is Alex Gilbert. My brother.’
She was so busy trying to work out what objection he could possibly have to her that she almost missed Jo’s words. But as they filtered into her head Phoebe found herself in the unusual position of being rendered speechless. And then a dozen little facts cascaded into her brain, each one hot on the heels of the other, and she inwardly groaned.
Oh, no.
How typical was that?
Someone really wanted this evening to implode. Because what were the chances that her mysterious, mind-blowingly gorgeous stranger would turn out to be the hotshot venture capitalist who’d injected a huge sum of cash so that Jo could finish and launch her collection? The billionaire who was so busy jetting round the world taking over businesses and entertaining glamorous women that he’d refused the invitation.
She hated it when she was wrong-footed. And not just wrong-footed. Hurled off balance would be a more accurate description. She’d swooned in his arms. Melted against him. Practically devoured him, for heaven’s sake. How mortifyingly inappropriate was that?
‘I should have guessed,’ she said hiding her embarrassment behind a cool façade. ‘The family resemblance is uncanny.’
She might be burning up inside, but Alex didn’t appear to be the slightest bit fazed. ‘Technically I’m her half-brother,’ he said with an impersonal little smile. ‘We shared a mother and we each take after our fathers.’ He held out a hand. Phoebe felt an arc of electricity shoot up her arm when her palm hit his and had to force herself not to snatch it back.
What was he doing here anyway? Jo had said he was quite content to be a silent partner. That he had no interest in what Jo got up to and even less in handbags.
When she’d heard about his supposed lack of fraternal support it hadn’t surprised her in the slightest. After all, when had her siblings ever supported her? At least he’d shown up at the eleventh hour, which was more than she could expect from any member of her family, all of whom thought her choice of career unbelievably frivolous.
Well, frivolous it might be, but it had given her enough experience to handle any situation with sophistication and aplomb. Even one as awkward as this.
‘I thought you were supposed to be in the States,’ she said evenly.
‘I was.’
‘Venturing your capital?’
‘Negotiating a deal.’
‘Did you win?’
‘He always wins,’ said Jo grumpily.
‘I’m sure you do,’ she said smoothly, pulling her hand out of his and surreptitiously flexing her fingers to stop the tingling. ‘Anyway, naturally we’re delighted to see you.’
‘Really?’ he said raising an eyebrow. ‘In that case, I can only imagine my invitation got lost in the post.’
Phoebe frowned. ‘You refused it.’
‘Did I?’ he said flatly, his expression turning even stonier.
‘You were obviously too busy to remember refusing it as well as being too busy to come.’
‘Obviously,’ he drawled and somehow Phoebe instantly knew that he’d been nothing of the kind.
‘So why the change of heart? A hitherto unrecognised fascination for women’s accessories?’
A slow smouldering smile curved his lips, and she felt herself heating up. ‘This is my little sister’s debut. How could I possibly miss it?’
‘Then why refuse in the first place?’ Something wasn’t right here, but for the life of her Phoebe couldn’t work out what. Alex had turned her brain to mush.
‘All right,’ said Jo, throwing her hands up in the air. ‘Phoebe, Alex knows perfectly well that I never sent him an invitation.’
Now she was baffled. Phoebe blinked and swung her attention back to Jo. ‘So why did you tell me you had?’
‘Oh, I really don’t remember,’ said Jo vaguely, waving a hand.
‘Forgetfulness seems to run in the family,’ Phoebe said dryly, not believing her for a second. Jo had been very unforthcoming about her brother, despite the fact that he’d contributed so much to her fledgling career, and now that she thought about it Phoebe realised that whenever she’d mentioned the financial generosity of Jo’s elusive brother, Jo had deftly changed the subject, which she’d thought odd at the time. However Phoebe had enough experience of tricky sibling relationships to steer well clear of other people’s and hadn’t probed.
With hindsight, she should have insisted on knowing more. His name at least. That would have saved her a whole lot of trouble.
‘Anyway, you two should get to know each other.’
No, they shouldn’t. Phoebe already knew far more about Alex than she was comfortable with, and his rigid expression gave her the impression that he wasn’t particularly keen on the idea either.
‘We met earlier,’ she said pleasantly. ‘The encounter was brief.’
‘But intense,’ he said, shooting her a searing look.
‘And wet, by the looks of things,’ said Jo, frowning as she glanced at the damp patches on Alex’s suit.
‘I decided to take a stroll round the gardens. It involved an unexpected detour via the pond.’ Alex rubbed his chest and Phoebe was instantly transported back to the moments before he’d kissed her. Images flashed into her head. The way he’d stared at her mouth, the hunger in his expression and the fire in his eyes. So different from the cold, controlled man standing in front of her.
Surely he couldn’t be that upset about not being sent an invitation? But if it wasn’t that, what was it?
‘If you’re falling into ponds,’ said Jo lightly, ‘you must be more jet-lagged than usual.’
‘I must be,’ murmured Alex. His eyes locked with Phoebe’s and her stomach flipped.
‘Jet lag makes him do the oddest things,’ said Jo, clearly thankful that the attention had shifted away from her. ‘The last time he had it he shredded a six-figure cheque instead of banking it and stashed his car keys in the fridge.’
Phoebe raised an eyebrow. ‘How absolutely fascinating.’
‘Don’t you just love siblings?’ he drawled.
‘Simply adore them,’ she said, and then thought of her own. ‘But I couldn’t eat a whole one.’
He didn’t even crack a smile and Phoebe felt her hackles shoot up. What was his problem? ‘I didn’t think international playboys bothered with things like fridges.’
A warning gleam entered his eyes. ‘Are you making assumptions about me, Phoebe?’
‘Simply making an observation,’ she said with an innocent smile.
‘Champagne has to be chilled somewhere, don’t you think?’
‘It certainly does. The colder the better.’
‘Especially in this heat.’
Phoebe shivered at the smouldering silvery sparks in his gaze.
‘It’s not that warm,’ said Jo. ‘Not for May. And, Phoebs, you’ve got goose-bumps.’
‘Cold?’ Alex asked softly, running his gaze over her, and to her irritation her body responded instantly. Her breasts tightened uncomfortably against the close-fitting dress and her nipples hardened while hot flames of desire licked deep inside her.
‘No.’
The seconds stretched, and the longer their gazes held, the more it felt as if nothing else existed beyond the sizzling attraction that arced between them. Her gaze dipped to his mouth and the desperate longing to have it on hers again thumped her in the stomach.
And Alex wanted it too, she realised with a jolt. She could tell by the darkening of his eyes and by the way his body seemed to go utterly still. Phoebe shuddered at the desire that suddenly ripped through her and dragged in a shaky breath. Alex frowned and ran a hand through his hair and when he jerked his attention away from her Phoebe felt as if a piece of elastic had snapped her in the face.
She had to stop this. She’d never had trouble controlling her hormones before, so why now?
Jo thankfully seemed oblivious to the electric undercurrents that fizzed between them and was looking round the gardens. ‘So what do you think of the venue?’ she asked brightly. ‘Isn’t it heavenly?’
‘Quite literally, given that we’re six storeys above the streets of central London,’ Alex replied. ‘The gardens are…’ his gaze swung back to Phoebe and her heart practically thudded to a halt ‘…illuminating.’
‘That’ll be the clever lighting,’ she said, amazed that her voice sounded so steady when her whole body was trembling.
‘Not that clever if you’re falling into ponds. By the way, have either of you seen Mark?’
Alex tensed. ‘Who’s Mark?’
‘My new boyfriend.’ Jo beamed.
Alex’s jaw clenched and his face darkened.
‘I’ve been looking all over the place for him but can’t find him anywhere. I thought he might have come out here.’
‘He did.’
There was a heavy silence. And then eventually Jo swung round, and stared at him. ‘Oh no. Have you met him?’ She frowned, her expression starting out wary but then when Alex didn’t answer immediately, turning to anger. ‘What happened? What did you do to him?’
Alex’s face was as rigid as stone and Phoebe hoped she’d never give him cause to look at her like that. With all that restrained strength and power, combined with the scar and the bump on his nose, she had a feeling Alex Gilbert could be a dangerous man to cross. ‘I poured him into a taxi and sent him home.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ said Jo, her voice tense with frustration. ‘Why did you do that?’
‘Mark was slightly the worse for wear,’ Phoebe interjected. ‘I tried to persuade him to cool off but he wasn’t really co-operating.’
‘Mark was off his head,’ Alex corrected sharply, ‘and I was under the brief misapprehension that Phoebe’s safety was at stake.’
Jo’s mouth dropped open. ‘Why would her safety be at stake?
‘I thought he’d hit her,’ he said flatly.
‘Oh,’ said Jo in a small voice.
A look passed between Alex and his sister that Phoebe couldn’t identify and that nugget of shame threatened to resprout inside her. ‘Nevertheless,’ said Phoebe, forcing it down, ‘you overreacted.’
‘We’ve already been through that,’ grated Alex.
‘I could put it down to jet lag if you’d like,’ said Phoebe helpfully, and then shuddered at the dark scowl that crossed his face.
Jo sighed and her shoulders slumped. ‘Was Mark very drunk?’
‘As a skunk,’ said Phoebe, ‘and after some time in the pond he smelt a bit like one too.’
Jo’s nose wrinkled. ‘What was he doing in the pond?’
‘Making friends with the wildlife,’ said Alex dryly. ‘Someone forgot to put up a fence.’
‘No one forgot,’ said Phoebe. ‘It’s deliberate. It’s cool. The fencelessness of the San Lorenzo Roof Gardens symbolises the uninhibited harmony between man and nature, and is part of its uber-cool appeal.’ At least that was what the website claimed.
‘It’s absurd,’ Alex growled. ‘Your boyfriend,’ he said, emphasising the word with sharp disdain as his gaze skewered Jo to the spot, ‘could have caused serious damage.’
‘It’s not his fault,’ said Jo, her face falling. ‘He’s up to his ears in debt.’
‘Idiot,’ muttered Alex.
‘Spoken like a true billionaire,’ said Phoebe tartly.
Alex’s eyes glittered dangerously. ‘There you go again,’ he said, shaking his head as if in disappointment. ‘Jumping to conclusions and making rash assumptions. I haven’t always been a billionaire. I know what it’s like to have nothing but debts.’
So do I, thought Phoebe, and tried not to think about the enormous loan she’d taken out to set up her business.
‘But I didn’t drown myself in drink,’ Alex added.
‘Lucky you.’ There were times when Phoebe felt like mainlining vodka, but so far she’d managed to resist.
He turned to Jo. ‘I don’t think you should see him again.’
‘Thanks to you I probably won’t,’ Jo fired back.
Right. Phoebe had had enough of this. Sibling squabbling had no place here. ‘Perhaps you two could continue this discussion another time,’ she said in a voice that brooked no argument. ‘Jo, you need to go back inside and mingle. Alex, you need to get a drink and relax. And I need to get on with making sure nothing else goes wrong.’
‘Ms Jackson?’
Phoebe spun round to see the portly form of Mr Bogoni barrelling towards them, huffing and puffing and looking as if he were on the verge of exploding. Her spirits dipped at the expression on his face. Oh, Lord. What was the matter now? Surely one mishap was quite enough for one evening.
‘Ms Jackson,’ he said again, smoothing his hair.
‘Mr Bogoni,’ said Phoebe, flashing him a bright smile that as usual didn’t manage to dent the icy demeanour. ‘You’ll be delighted to know that the flamingo remains unharmed.’
‘I am indeed glad to hear that, but unfortunately we have another problem.’
‘What sort of problem?’
‘I think you’d better come with me.’
CHAPTER THREE
PHOEBE’S MIND RACED as she followed Mr Bogoni across the terrace towards the bar. What could possibly have happened now? And why did Alex have to be following quite so closely? In fact why did he have to be there at all? ‘There was no need for you to come too,’ Phoebe muttered out of the side of her mouth.
‘You think not?’ he drawled. ‘This is perhaps the most important night of my sister’s career. I’m interested in everything that goes on.’
‘Whatever it is,’ said Jo firmly, ‘Phoebe will be able to fix it.’
Phoebe shot Jo a smile of thanks for her vote of confidence and prepared herself for the worst.
But as she stepped into the bar her eyes were drawn up and she froze in absolute horror.
Oh, dear God. This wasn’t a problem. This was a disaster of gargantuan proportions, the likes of which nothing in her experience could have prepared her for. Compared to this, the Mark debacle was as insignificant as a tiny sequin on a full-length ball gown.
Phoebe blinked to check she wasn’t hallucinating, but no. This was no hallucination.
Every single one of Jo’s beautiful handbags was on fire. Multicoloured flames licked at the precious creations and the acrid smell of burning plastic and fabric filled the room. Sparks flew. Metal crackled. Then, as if cremating handbags weren’t bad enough, the individual light above each pedestal went out, the localised sprinkler system kicked in and tiny droplets of water rained over the charred remains. Smoke billowed and then whooshed up into the powerful air conditioning vents.
Icy panic flooded through her. How on
earth was she going to spin this? All the guests had edged to the sides of the room and every single one of them was staring up at the spectacle in utter amazement. Jo looked as if she was on the verge of tears; Alex’s stony expression told her he wasn’t amused in the slightest.
The dreadful silence gave way to a rumble of speculation that began to sweep through the room. Gasps of amazement were swiftly followed by murmurs about flammable fabric and toxic materials and Phoebe realised that if she didn’t do something in the next few minutes the situation would become unsalvageable and her business would fail barely before it had begun.
But what? For the first time in her life, she didn’t have a clue what to say. Terror clawed at her chest and a ball of panic lodged in her throat. Her head went fuzzy and for a moment she thought she was about to start hyperventilating.
No. She didn’t have time to hyperventilate. Not when Jo’s bags had all just exploded like firecrackers.
Phoebe’s heart skipped a beat. Wait a moment…firecrackers…
The idea that popped into her head was so outrageously crazy, so unbelievable, that it might actually work. It was a gamble, but if she showed she believed it, everyone else would too, and she’d have turned a major disaster into a fabulous finale.
Euphoric relief wiped the fuzz from her head and an unstoppable grin spread across her face. ‘Don’t worry about a thing,’ she said, leaning over to whisper in Jo’s ear and giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. ‘It’s all going to be fine.’
So how was she going to wriggle out of this one?
Alex leaned against a pillar and folded his arms over his chest as Phoebe marched across the empty floor, stepped up onto the dais and tapped the microphone. All eyes watched her and the room filled with a sort of morbid excitement that reminded him of birds of prey circling an injured animal.
How could Jo ever have thought that hiring someone of her own accord was a wise thing to do? Especially someone who allowed the evening to descend into chaos.
As far as he was aware his sister knew nothing about PR. Whereas he’d worked with his team for years. So why hadn’t she come to him and asked for his advice on something so important? Alex ignored the twinge of hurt and made himself pay attention to what Phoebe was about to say.