by Julie Kenner
With that, the hotel phone rang on the desk next to her, making all three of them jump. She stared at the device for two or three rings, frozen. It had to be him. No one else knew where she was, with the exception of the two people staring at her with excitement and intrigue shining in their eyes.
‘Answer it,’ Sonya said, gesturing wildly at Libby to accept the call.
They waited. Expectant. Sometimes it sucked that these two knew her so well.
Rolling her shoulders back, she chided herself. Act professional. He was just a businessman. Just another potential client. Libby covered her mouth with her index finger, shushing them. Then turned the laptop away so it faced the wall. Sonya and Vinnie would hear her side of the conversation, but they wouldn’t see her face while she answered the call.
‘Libby Noble.’ Shit, her voice was all breathy—as if she’d run a marathon.
She relaxed her clenched fingers, slipping her feet from her shoes under the desk and flexing her toes into the plush pile of the carpet. Libby felt her neck burn, just knowing that Sonya and Vinnie were listening from the laptop beside her. They’d worked and played alongside her for the last five years, seeing her at her best and at her worst. Although the ‘play’ had been virtually non-existent since Callum’s death.
‘Olivia—Alex Lancaster here.’
His voice rasped down the line, scraping at her earlobe. She rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t he have a normal voice? A boring monotone that left her cold?
Libby cleared her tight throat. ‘Mr Lancaster.’ That was better. Clipped, curt, taking no shit. ‘How can I help you?’
He chuckled. The bastard actually chuckled. ‘You can call me Alex, you know.’
His voice was huskier over the phone, his dashing accent stronger—or perhaps without the visual distraction her senses were more acutely attuned to every nuance of him.
Fantastic.
‘I hoped to persuade you to reconsider my offer.’
Just listening to him speak made her think of sex. His voice was deep and authoritative, in control. It should be a real turn-off. She hated being told what to do. Perhaps it was the change in time zones, messing with her biorhythms. She smoothed a crease from her skirt, her restless fingers needing something to do. Something other than itch to twisting through his decadent flop of hair.
‘I thought we’d concluded things this morning.’
‘Had we?’
All she’d really concluded was that she was ridiculously attracted to him, and that her hormones were securely at the helm, sailing the Libby ship into uncharted waters. Waters fraught with wild fantasies. Just a hint of danger. Enough to thrill.
‘I wanted to tell you a bit more about the project. I think I mentioned I’m chief executive of a charity based here in London.’
Had he? She’d been too focussed on the rasp of his hand and the head-rush caused by his spicy scent.
‘It’s called Able-Active. Have you heard of it?’
Libby spun a pen on the desk, its hypnotic circling matching the frequency and rhythm of Alex’s rumbling speech. Autocratic, imposing, seductive… She could listen to him for hours…especially if he talked dirty.
‘No, I’m sorry. I haven’t.’
Her own voice was relatively low and husky for a woman. But his had curled itself around her like a comfort blanket—warm, sensual and with just enough scrape to bring to life every nerve-ending in her body. Particularly those tightly clustered between her legs.
‘Yes. And there’s my problem. At the moment the charity can only accept participants from the South East. I want to extend it throughout the UK’s other major cities. There are a lot of kids with special needs out there, Olivia—kids who deserve the experiences Able-Active provides.’
He’d pricked her interest. ‘What kind of charity?’
She quickly typed Able-Active into the search engine on her mobile phone and brought up the website.
‘It’s for kids with all kinds of different needs. A recreational adventure centre, outward bound type of thing.
‘I see. Well, I wish you luck with that venture, Mr Lancaster. It sounds very worthwhile.’
Damn him—couldn’t he have a few obvious flaws? Bad breath, poor taste, a warped sense of humour…?
‘It is worthwhile and…’
He paused, as if he sought the right word. Perhaps Mr Ruthless McReckless had a soft centre…
‘It’s important to me. That’s why I want the best people working on it.’
Ooh, flattery.
‘I’ve done my research. The best people is you. I read about your award. And the CEO of Kids Count wrote a very flattering piece about you in Charity Times.’
Silence settled, thick and cloying, pushing Libby back into the chair. Of course he’d researched her. He’d hinted as much this morning with his comment about her reputation. He was an astute businessman, intuitive, quick witted, driven. Any self-respecting would-be employer would do his homework.
She’d done the same; spent most of the afternoon scouring the internet and his website. Of course she’d missed any mention of his charity work. Too busy drooling over pictures of him shirtless on some exotic island. Too focussed on replaying his TED talks over and over just to hear the scrape of his voice. And too absorbed in imagining what he looked like under his urbane business suits.
This smacked of a personal crusade. No. He probably applied the same drive and determination to any enterprise he was involved with.
She remained silent. Why this reluctance to work with him? He brought something out in her—some perverse streak of her personality that revelled in denying his wishes. A battle of wills? Not very mature of her and bad for business.
‘Any number of firms could handle that kind of strategy.’
Yes she’d worked on a campaign for the American charity, but surely he could find what he needed here in the UK.
He gave a small sigh. ‘Look, I get what I want, Olivia. You’ve proved yourself to have a clear and savvy understanding of the current social media climate. You have a flair for clever and innovative imagery and Kids Count are benefitting markedly. I want the same for my charity.
His charity?
‘That’s why I put your name forward to the London Business School when they approached me to speak at today’s seminar.’
She stifled a gasp. He’d personally recommended her? And, as he sponsored the conference, he’d flown her here all expenses paid—including this hotel room. Her gaze skittered to the bed. She saw an image of him naked and sprawled there, telling her what he wanted with that upper crust voice of his. Not that she’d give it to him.
I get what I want. His arrogance…
Again her mind veered. Did he want her? Fantasise about them together as she’d done since the moment she’d met him? Well, as much as it would cost her, both professionally and personally, she’d have to show him he didn’t always get what he wanted.
She cleared her throat. ‘Well, I hope you have yourself the best accountant over there at Able-Active. Not may start-up charities have such a large marketing budget.’
Her personal services didn’t come cheap, no matter how attractive the man paying the check.
‘You let me worry about that. Can you start tomorrow?’
Arrogant, presumptive asshole.
‘Mr Lancaster. Throwing money at me won’t change my mind.’
If anything it made her inclined to hang up. Unlike Mr Sexy Billionaire, she hadn’t lived a privileged childhood full of skiing holidays and the right private schools. Her daddy didn’t own a super-yacht—in fact, she didn’t have a daddy. Like her single parent mother, she’d worked hard every day for everything she had, and she appreciated every cent she spent—despite the designer clothes she wore and her top of the range car. Frivolous was not a word in Libby’s vocabulary.
‘Well, what will change your mind?’
His voice dropped to a sultry drawl. The one she imagined was his bedroom voice.
Imag
ined or hoped?
Had he asked her to work for his IT company she’d have already ended this conversation. Her eyes drifted over the images on the Able-Active website. Smiling faces…kids joyously experiencing the thrill and accomplishment of some outdoor adventure.
‘It’s very important to me, Olivia.’
The way he spoke her name—her full name—was like their little secret.
‘Why?’ She whispered the request, as if the intimacy of his answer warranted such secrecy. Alex Lancaster—full of intriguing contradictions?
‘Personal reasons.’ The pitch of his voice lifted a fraction. ‘I had a sister.’
Had?
‘Let me offer a sweetener.’
He didn’t want to talk about his sister. This she understood. She had no-go areas about her past, too.
‘Lancaster IT’s marketing contract is up for renewal in two months. If you help me out with Able-Active the contract is yours.’
She gave a small gasp. ‘Regardless of how good my work is? That’s ridiculous.’
Was he mad? How had he become so successful so young? Rash decisions and financial extravagance wouldn’t have cut it. She’d been right about him. Reckless.
‘Just do what you did for Kids Count and I’ll be happy.’
Mmm…What would a happy Alex look like? Libby vacillated. Sonya was right. A high-profile account like his would shunt their company into the big league. Finally reward them for years of hard work. Surely she could control her startling attraction to him for long enough to get the job done and get out? And hadn’t she been hoping to attract new business while here in the UK? This was a dream scenario landing in her lap.
Still she wavered.
A compromise?
‘Perhaps Sonya could mock up some drafts and I’ll step in once she goes on maternity leave.’
That made no sense. What was wrong with her? She flushed, knowing Sonya could hear the gibberish coming out of her mouth. Libby was here. Sonya was in New York and about to deliver her baby any day.
‘I want you.’
Not fair.
She closed her eyes, relishing the feeling as her overactive libido spun off into fantasyland, taking her pounding heart along for the ride. How would it feel to be the recipient of that bare statement in another time, another context? Would he give her what her body clearly craved? A couple of mind-blowing orgasms? Nothing more. Would she concede to his control, loosen the tight command she subjected every aspect of her own life to just for one blissful minute? Give him everything?
She slowed her rapid breaths and mentally slapped herself. She was a hard-assed career woman. She employed twenty people, won lucrative contracts and industry awards. She didn’t crumble when faced with an attractive employer. No matter how intense his golden eyes or how sin-dipped his gravelly voice. And, these days, she never conceded control. It wasn’t worth the risk.
But this made good business sense. A connection of this visibility would allow her to pick and choose Sonya’s stand-in. And by the time her friend returned from maternity leave they’d be ready to take on the world.
She’d have to be careful. Despite her daydreams, a man like Alex would quickly take anything she gave.
She sucked in a breath, confident in her abilities to handle him. Decided, she was all business.
‘I’ll have my assistant contact yours to make the arrangements.’ Libby lifted her chin, although she knew he couldn’t see the gesture.
‘I’ll have the contracts drawn up.’
She could almost hear his victory grin slither down the phone line.
‘Pleasure doing business with you, Mr Lancaster.’
She hung up, all the air leaving her in rush, one word lingering in her dry mouth. Pleasure. Would it be?
When her face felt cooler to the touch, she turned back to her laptop screen and her colleagues.
Their grins said it all.
Damn. What had she done?
Will Libby dare to act on her outrageous attraction for Alex? Find out in A WEEK TO BE WILD, available soon from Harlequin Dare!
ISBN-13: 978-1-488-08630-4
STOLEN
First published as STOLEN by Harlequin Temptation in 2004
This edition published in 2017
Copyright © 2004 by Julia Beck Kenner.
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