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Chapter Two

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AS HIS MOUTH slammed down on hers Phoebe instantly lost track of everything except for the flood of heat that rushed straight to the centre of her. He took advantage of her gasp of shock instantly. When their tongues met it was as if someone had lit a firework deep inside her and Phoebe couldn’t do anything other than melt against him. Her arms shot up around his neck and his tightened and whether he pulled or she pushed, all she knew was that she was plastered against him and her body thought it had died and gone to heaven.

She ought to pull away. This was utter madness. She was supposed to be working. She’d planned every minute of this party, and at no stage did her plans involve six feet plus of devastating masculinity swooping to her unneeded rescue, kissing her and messing up her mind.

But tingles rippled along her nerve endings and the scent of him wound up her nose, seeped into her brain and fried it. All rational thought vanished.

As the kiss deepened and spiralled into something wildly out of control Phoebe felt the evidence of his arousal press against her and she wanted to writhe against it. Barely aware of what she was doing, she raised herself onto the tips of her toes to feel his hard length better against her, but her dress was too tight, too constricting.

Her breasts felt heavy and swollen and she wanted him to push the bodice down, get rid of her bra and soothe her aching nipples with his hand and mouth. When his hand moved round to cup her breast, lights exploded behind her eyelids and lust thundered through her.

Oh, God, she thought, beginning to tremble uncontrollably. She’d never been kissed like this. Had never kissed anyone like this. And she’d never been swept away by this intensity of…feeling.

‘Phoebe?’

They both froze at the sound of Jo’s voice. Phoebe let out a tiny moan of protest and Alex jerked back, cursing softly. She hung limply in his embrace and stared up at him in stunned silence. His hair was rumpled from where her fingers had tangled through it and a muscle pounded in his jaw. He seemed to be as shaken as she was. But a moment later he’d let her go and had backed into the shadows.

She blinked and swayed for a second while Jo called her name again, her voice louder and closer, and then reality swooped in and hit her round the head with the force of a fully laden tote bag.

What had she been thinking? She was at work. What if Jo hadn’t called her name? She’d have come across the two of them practically devouring each other, which was most certainly not the sort of professionalism she prided herself on.

Desperately trying to regulate her breathing, Phoebe smoothed her dress and pressed the backs of her hands to her cheeks. As she suspected. Burning. She touched her still tingling mouth, which felt ravaged and bruised, and wondered exactly how bad the damage was.

‘Hey, Phoebs, here you are.’ Jo came to a halt at the entrance to the pergola and beamed. ‘What are you doing out here all on your own?’

Phoebe resisted the urge to glance around to see where Alex had vanished to and cleared her throat. ‘Oh, you know,’ she said, smiling weakly while searching her imagination for something more sensible to say than an awestruck ‘wow, did I just imagine that?’. ‘Getting some air.’

Pathetic. She made her living out of manipulating words and spinning situations. Surely she could come up with something better than that?

‘Hmm. It is a bit stuffy inside.’ Jo frowned. ‘What’s happened to your hair?’

Oops, she’d forgotten all about that. Her hands shot to her head and she carefully pulled out her makeshift hairpin. She combed her fingers through her hair and thanked God that it appeared to have come through recent events unscathed.

Jo glanced down. ‘What on earth is that?’

‘A twig.’

‘What was it doing in your hair?’

Phoebe tossed it into a flowerbed and waved a vague hand. ‘Oh, I was simply experimenting with an idea.’

‘Thinking of branching out?’

‘Ha ha,’ she muttered, and then clamped her lips together to stop a sudden bubble of hysterical laughter escaping.

Jo peered at her closer. ‘Are you all right? You look a bit flushed. And flustered.’ She paused and tilted her head. ‘I’ve never seen you flustered.’

That was because she took great care never to appear flustered, even when inside she was a mess. Regardless of the situation, triumph or disaster, she was always the epitome of cool, unflappable collectedness. She never let anything get in the way of her commitment to her job. And she never ever lost control.

Well, except for just now…

But that was totally understandable, she assured herself. After all, she’d been flung around like a sack of potatoes and then kissed senseless without any say in the matter whatsoever. Who wouldn’t feel a tiny bit on the flustered side?

Phoebe took a deep breath and channelled her inner calm. ‘I’m absolutely fine,’ she said.

Jo shot her a knowing smile. ‘If you weren’t out here alone, and if I didn’t know that you never mix business with pleasure, I’d have sworn I’d interrupted you in the middle of a clinch.’

Phoebe felt colour hit her cheeks and edged away from the light. It was high time to deflect this line of conversation. ‘Hmm. So. You were looking for me?’

‘Yes. I came to tell you…’ But what Jo had come to tell her never made it out of her mouth.

Phoebe didn’t need to look round to know that Alex was standing behind her. The hairs at the nape of her neck had leapt up like an early-warning system and her whole body quivered with awareness.

As Jo’s gaze slid over Phoebe’s shoulder her smile disappeared, the blood drained from her face and her eyes widened in horror.

‘Hello, Jo.’ Alex’s voice was as cold as ice and Jo seemed to deflate right in front of Phoebe’s eyes.

‘Oh, no,’ Jo said with a deep sigh. ‘What are you doing here?’

Well, that was a relief, thought Alex darkly, thrusting his hands in his pockets and keeping his eyes fixed on his sister. Jo’s reaction to his presence at the party was the only thing so far this evening that had turned out as he’d expected.

Ever since he’d learned that she’d gone behind his back and hired her own PR representative without his approval, he’d planned to pitch up, demand to know what she thought she was up to and replace whoever she’d hired with his own team.

He’d intended to swoop in and be done within a matter of minutes, and if things had gone according to plan, he’d now be passed out in his penthouse, battling jet lag.

Instead, over the course of the last half an hour he’d fought a drunken idiot in a pond, been thwacked by a deluge of painful memories he’d really rather forget and been forced to face the uncomfortable realisation that for the first time in years he’d been wrong. As if all that weren’t enough, it appeared he’d also caught a severe case of lust.

Alex flicked a quick glance at Phoebe, standing there with her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders and looking like a fallen angel, and felt desire whip through him all over again.

Kissing the life out of one of the guests had definitely not been part of the plan. But the moment he’d held her against him he’d been able to think about little else. He could still feel the imprint of her hand on his chest while she’d been ranting about dealing with cavemen or something, her eyes flashing sparks of green and gold at him. When his resistance had finally crumbled she’d fitted against him so perfectly, responded to him so passionately that he hadn’t been able to stop. Who knew what might have happened if Jo hadn’t interrupted them?

Alex ground his teeth against the urge to drag Phoebe back into the shadows. There’d be plenty of time for that later. Once he’d achieved what he’d come here to do, he’d take her out to dinner. See where a few more of those kisses might end up and maybe find a new way to get over jet lag.

In the meantime, he told himself, blanking Phoebe from his head and training his full attention on Jo, he had work to do.

‘Surprised to see me?’ he said coolly.

‘Somewhat,’ Jo muttered. ‘But thrilled too, of course,’ she added hastily.

She didn’t look in the slightest bit thrilled. She looked wary, as if she’d been caught red-handed. Which she should, because she had. If he’d vaguely entertained the idea of giving her the benefit of the doubt over the absence of his invitation, it vanished.

‘Of course,’ he replied dryly.

‘How did you find out?’

‘Did you really imagine I wouldn’t?’

‘I had hoped.’

Alex frowned. Since when had she started keeping secrets from him? That rankled almost as much as the fact that she’d deliberately kept him out of the loop.

‘Er, excuse me for interrupting, but would someone mind telling me what’s going on?’ said Phoebe, edging towards Jo in an oddly protective fashion. ‘Because I’m guessing you don’t have an invitation, and, if Jo wants, I can have the bouncers here faster than you can say “gatecrasher.”’

Alex’s gaze swivelled back to his sister. ‘Well?’ he said in a deadly soft voice.

‘There’s no need to call the bouncers.’ Jo pulled her shoulders back and shot him a defiant look. ‘Alex, I’d like you to meet Phoebe Jackson, managing director of Jackson Communications, and my PR.’

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 ravenhaired 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 unrecog-nised 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.’

Propositioned by the Billionaire

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