by Dani Collins
“I thought you were a form of AI, but there’s nothing artificial about you. Is there?” His head turned and his expression eased, revealing a slant of something that invited and appreciated, even as it caused her inner radar to tingle with caution.
She had the most bizarre sensation of being chased, breaths growing uneven despite not moving. Her middle filled with fluttering butterflies, but they weren’t fear. They were the excitement of the unknown. Of playful pursuit.
This was sexual awareness, she realized with a pressure in her throat that was an urge to both laugh and scream. She understood sexual attraction in a very abstract way. She had been exposed to the feminine tricks of making herself appealing to the opposite sex far too young, but she wasn’t trying any of them right now. She was barefaced and the only reason she stood tall and sucked in her stomach was in an effort to seem confident and competent.
And she had been judged on her external attributes from an early age, but hadn’t felt it, not like this. If anything, she’d been repulsed by older men studying her and assigning her a score. Occasionally, since being here, one of Mrs. Chen’s visitors had noticed her and made a remark before she was shooed out of sight. She had been an odd duck, if not an outright ugly duckling.
She hadn’t realized a man’s gaze could make her stomach wobble and her blood feel as though it fizzed in her veins. That a force field could encompass her like a cup over a spider, so she could be scooped into the palm of his hand to be crushed or freed on his whim.
The butler came in with the tray, breaking their locked gaze.
“How shall I prepare your kopi, Mr. Dean?” the butler asked, pouring from the carafe into a jade-green cup with a gold handle that he balanced on its matching saucer.
“Black.” His sharp gaze touched on the single cup and swung back to Luli. “You’re not having any?”
The butler didn’t react, but Luli read the servant’s affront in the angle of his shoulders and the stiffness beneath his impassive expression. They’d been at war for years because she had Mae’s confidence in ways he didn’t. He’d been incensed that he had learned from Luli who Mrs. Chen’s grandson was—after Luli had informed Gabriel.
What could Luli have said, though? She doesn’t trust you. She doesn’t trust men. Mae had encouraged Luli to trust no one but her and Luli had given her the loyalty that Mae craved.
None of which changed the fact that if the butler had to fetch Luli a cup right now, he would die.
If she was a small person, she would force him to do it, but she was saving her energy for a greater revolt. A more daunting target.
“You’re very kind,” she murmured. “But that’s not necessary.”
“The bell is here if you require anything further, Mr. Dean,” the butler said, glancing darkly toward Luli before he closed the door firmly on his way out.
Gabriel waved at the arrangement of sofa and chairs, all upholstered in silk brocade, and waited for her to lower onto a cushion before he sat across from her.
Honestly, this regard he was extending to her was laughable. Her conscience writhed as she folded her hands in her lap. He was going to explode when he realized how undeserving she was of this respect.
Despite the fact she would have to take control of the discussion eventually, she waited for him to lead. There were so many ways this could go, some of them life altering—maybe even life-threatening. Her research had revealed he was a black belt in kung fu. Her morning tai chi in the courtyard with Mae and the rest of the household was no match for the lightning-fast and lethal moves he no doubt possessed.
“After signing papers at the hospital, I met with my grandmother’s attorney,” he informed her. “My power of attorney was finalized so I could assume the helm during probate. A press release has been issued to announce our connection. Legally and publicly it is accepted that I have taken possession of Chen Enterprises. Yet, when I arrived at the head office, very few of my instructions could be fully executed. I was told that every instruction and transaction goes through Luli.”
He sipped his coffee while his gaze stayed pinned on her.
“They couldn’t even run me a comprehensive list of her assets and accounts, so I could begin contacting the banks for access.”
A coal of heat burned in her center, but she said nothing, knowing that stammering out explanations when he hadn’t yet asked a question would betray her nerves.
“You realize I’m not the only person under the impression you’re a sophisticated task-management app?”
“I believe that is the impression your grandmother preferred to cultivate.”
“Why?” His voice was whip sharp. She had to concentrate not to flinch as it landed on her.
“Among other things, it forces people to express themselves in writing,” she explained in an unruffled tone. “It creates a traceable trail. She told me once that when your grandfather died, his business manager attempted to take advantage of her. She wasn’t able to prove his wrongdoing and she wasn’t able to take control of the wealth she had inherited. Not without a terrible fight.”
“Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Apparently.”
Bam-bam-bam. Her heart threatened to crack open her breastbone.
“Since then, it has been her practice to maintain tight oversight with regard to her finances. She personally approves all but the most routine transactions.”
“Does she? Because it sounds like you do.”
“She didn’t care for computers. I work under her direction.” And steered her direction, when opportunities presented, but that wasn’t important right now.
“Your actions strike me as empire building.” He crossed his legs, hitching his pants as he did. “You have made yourself indispensable in a grasp for power. I’ve seen it before, many times.”
“I have no empire,” she assured him.
His cynical look said he saw right through her, which shouldn’t cause her stomach to bottom out, but it did. He was nothing to her, but it was taking every ounce of courage she possessed to hold his gaze.
It struck her that she had never had the courage to defy Mae. What chance did that give her against someone like him?
“You live here?” The cynical twitch of his mesmerizing mouth called her a parasite.
“A room is assigned to me, yes.”
“Where did you come from?”
“Venezuela.”
“That wasn’t what I was asking, but I hear that in your accent now.” His gaze shifted as he took in her features once again. “It’s sultry. Exotic.”
He sounded vaguely mocking, which stung. Her rudimentary English, taught to her by a chaperone, had been perfected here, where Mae had learned it from a British boarding school. The staff spoke broken versions peppered with Indian, Malay and Pilipino accents.
As he stared at her, the tingle of sensual, elemental awareness shimmered around her again, disconcerting her. Logically, she presumed she could use her voice and looks to charm and distract him, but she had no practice wielding those weapons. Instead, she found herself fascinated by the subtle inflections in his voice and the slightest twitch of his lips.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
“Eight years.”
“Not Singapore. In this house, employed by my grandmother.”
“I came to this house when I came to Singapore eight years ago.”
He frowned. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Were you hired as a housemaid?” He was taken aback. “How did you come to be doing high-level work like this?” He jerked his chin toward the sleeping laptop on the writing desk.
She licked her lips. How to explain?
“As I said, your grandmother found computers tiresome, but she wished to be as hands-on as possible with every facet of her business.”
He was skeptical, but it was true. Luli couldn’t count the number of times Mae had nudged her in the back of the shoulder and told her, Go back. Show me that again.
“I perform various confidential tasks at her direction.”
“Bank transfers, stock purchases...?”
“Yes. If a broker or middleman is used, I follow up after transmitting requests to ensure the task has been completed. I compile background information on potential employees and business partners, assist her in reviewing performance reports and run random secondary checks on various budgets and accounts, helping spot discrepancies that could point to misuse.”
“People love audits, especially random ones. I bet you’re very popular.” He was being sarcastic.
“A necessary evil” was probably the kindest thing she’d been called, usually in an email chain not meant for her eyes.
Was she evil? She would have called her mother that, until she had been backed into a corner herself and now had to think about how she would survive.
“As you say, most people think I’m a computer program. I’ve never concerned myself much with whether people like me so long as your grandmother was satisfied with my work.”
A small lie. She would love a friend, a real one, not an old woman who had forgotten what it was like to be young and curious about the world. One who was scared to let her see any of it, in case it made her leave.
“On the topic of programs,” she said, feeling clammy sweat break on her palms. “It might interest you to know that your grandmother requested I switch exclusively to using your operating system. She had reservations about cloud-based so she purchased the download versions. We use all your business modules, accounting and security, the productivity suite... She wanted to know her most important records and cryptocurrency were backed up and protected against intrusion. She liked that you claim it’s next to impossible to hack. I’m sure you could get in, though. If you had to.”
There. She was inching onto the limb she had chosen.
It might hold her or it might snap and send her plummeting to her death.
CHAPTER TWO
LUCRECIA. IT SOUNDED like the Latin name for one of those exotic flowers found in remote jungles. The kind with waxy petals in shades of ivory streaked with lush crimson and mysterious indigo. The kind with a perfume that drew a bee inexorably into her honey trap.
Where she paralyzed and ate him alive.
What a way to go. Gabriel almost didn’t see a downside, except that he’d learned very early not to fall for any sort of manipulation. They’d all been tried—threats, flattery, guilt, false friendship and—frequently—lust. Sex was something he enjoyed like whiskey over rocks or a cool swim on a hot day. It wasn’t something he needed or succumbed to.
Yet this woman had put a coil of tension in him merely by existing and was notching it with each lift of her thick, curled lashes over her piercing blue-green eyes.
To think, he had only come to the house as a last resort, thinking he would fire up his grandmother’s laptop and ascertain exactly what this “Luli” software was all about.
Her wares were soft, all right. In all the right places, despite being draped in the least flattering dress imaginable. The color was wrong for her skin tone, but there was no hiding her catwalk height or her flawless complexion. She didn’t need makeup or adornments. In his mind, she only had to remove that dress and the pins from her hair and she would be perfect.
But she was his employee, he reminded himself, in the same way the workforce of any company became his responsibility and resource after a takeover.
Therefore, while he enjoyed fantasizing each time she threw one of those doe-eyed, speculative glances his way, looking ever so innocent as she let the tip of her tongue dampen her lips suggestively, he refused to let her see it was having the desired effect on him, i.e., Desire.
He definitely didn’t let his carnal reaction blind him to the nuanced threat she was making.
“Why would I need to hack into accounts that belong to me?” he asked, muscles activating as though preparing to face an opponent on the mat.
“You wouldn’t...”
If.
She didn’t say it, but he heard the lilt of suggestion in the way she trailed off.
He set aside his half-finished coffee with a click of bone china meeting lacquered wood.
She swallowed, eyes shielded by her lashes, but she was watching him through them. Cautious. Scared, even.
He let his lip curl to let her know he was amused by her adorable attempt to extort from him.
“You understand I could have you arrested.” Which was a strangely appalling thing to imagine. He had brought charges to bear in the past, when laws had been broken. He never thought twice about protecting himself and always sought justice through due process.
But there were exceptions to every rule, he supposed. Even the rules he made for himself.
“You could bring in the police,” she agreed in that same trailing tone. This time the adjunct was but. “I haven’t done anything illegal, though. Not yet.”
Not yet? “Ah. You’ve planted a cyberbomb.” He ought to be furious, but he was so flabbergasted by her audacity, he wanted to laugh. Did she know who he was?
“May we call them incentives?” Her gaze came up, crystal as the Caribbean Sea. Placid and appealing and full of sharks and deadly jellyfish with stinging tendrils.
His divided mind wanted to watch the shift of color in those eyes as he immersed himself in her even as the other half absorbed the word incentives. Plural.
“Call them anything you like. I’m calling the police.” Even he didn’t know whether he was bluffing. He took longer than he needed to bring his phone from his pocket, though, watching for her next move.
“If I don’t log in soon, a tell-all will release to the press.”
“Has my grandmother been running an opium den? What terrible tales could you possibly have to tell about her?” As far as he knew, Mae Chen’s worst crime was being stubbornly resentful of her daughter’s choice in husband—and rightfully so.
Luli’s face went blank. “I’d rather not reveal it.”
“Because you have nothing.”
“Because your grandmother’s good name would be smeared and she’s been good to me.”
“Yet you’ll destroy her reputation to get what you want from me.”
“I’ll tell the truth.” Her tone was grave, her comportment calm enough to make him think she might have something more than threats of revealing a dodgy tax write-off or a penchant for young men in small bathing suits.
“Something to do with my mother?”
“Not at all.” That seemed to surprise her.
“What then? I’m not playing twenty questions.”
She pinched her mouth together and glanced toward the door to ensure it was firmly closed.
“Human trafficking and forcible confinement.”
“Ha!”
She didn’t laugh.
“That’s a very ugly accusation.” There was a thriving black market in everything from drugs to kidneys, but it wasn’t a shop on Fifth Avenue where women in their golden years could drop in and buy house staff. “Who? You?”
She swallowed. “Ask anyone here how many times I’ve been outside the front door of this house. They’ll tell you today was the first time in eight years.”
“Because you’ve coached them to say that? Are you ring-leading?”
“I’m acting alone. I would be surprised if anyone else knows my situation as anything but a preference for staying inside the grounds.” Her watchful gaze came up. “As I say, it would damage their memory of your grandmother if staff began gossiping. I’d rather you didn’t make serious inquiries.”
“You know as well as I do that without a thorough inv
estigation, it’s very much she said, no one else said. I’ve weathered disgruntled employees making wild accusations many times. I’m not concerned.” He was a little concerned. This woman was not like the others here, that much was obvious. Not just in looks and background, either. At twenty-two, she had inveigled her way into controlling an elderly woman’s fortune. She was infinitely more dangerous than she looked.
Luli’s cheeks drew in as she set her chin. “Whether the police believe me or not, I expect they will deport me, seeing as I have no legal right to be here. My prospects in Venezuela are dim. I’ve had to make arrangements for that possibility.”
“I bet you have.” He couldn’t recall the last person to be so bold in their stalk of his money. He was reluctantly fascinated. “Stealing is a crime.”
“Only if I collect it.”
“Indeed.” He picked up his cup to sip and allow that lethal threat to sink in.
She might have paled slightly, but the sun had set and the light was changing.
“You could kill me,” she acknowledged. “Or I could simply disappear. Contingencies have been prepared for that possibility, as well. The investigation into that would be very thorough and go on a very long time.”
“Hell hath no fury like a woman with a keyboard. What did I do to deserve this wrath?”
Her hands, so prettily arranged in her lap, turned their palms up in a subtle entreaty. “I’m aware that my only value right now is my ability to reverse the inconveniences I’ve arranged.”
“I’m confident I can reverse them myself before they do too much damage. Your value is nil.”
“You’re probably right.” She nodded, not even sweating. Her only betrayal of nerves was the rapid tattoo of the artery in her throat.
Gabriel had a weakness for puzzles. There was a twelve-year-old boy inside him itching to lock the door, put on his noise-canceling headphones and hack his own system until he’d found every Easter egg she’d hidden there. Not because he was worried. Purely for the game of it.
And there was a thirty-one-year-old man who wanted to put his hands on the twisted pieces of this woman and see how quickly he could untangle her and make her come apart.