Читать книгу Boardrooms & a Billionaire Heir / Jealousy & a Jewelled Proposition - Paula Roe, Yvonne Lindsay - Страница 11

Four

Jake left his meeting with Kimberley Perrini with newfound respect. Despite his reluctance, Kim still pushed the idea of bringing Holly into their cone of silence. “She was the spin behind the Shipley University scandal, not to mention some of our internal issues. We’re lucky to have her,” Kim had said.

Grudgingly he had to agree. And if the press started running with pictures of him at Blackstone’s, he knew exactly where to lay the blame.

Meanwhile, his security chief was busy compiling a list of enemies and disgruntled employees and their possible sources within Blackstone’s. Matt Hammond had been suggested then discarded. No proof, plus the man got his fair share of negative press, too. Shareholders? No, too much to lose.

So he was back once again to a person Howard had personally offended.

And that’s where it got confusing. Holly had had no direct contact with Howard. Blackstone’s had put her through university. Outwardly, she was passionate about and dedicated to her job. She genuinely liked working here. Yet she was broke and floundering under a mountain of debt, and could still afford rent, food, clothes.

Was she that good an actress?

A shot of heat started low and crept up his body. Hazardous, thinking about Holly McLeod. Because if he did that, he’d have to acknowledge how paper-thin his control was. Instead of quenching his fire, his suspicion only stoked the flames higher, creating a burning need that was slowly dominating his every thought.

You have to stop thinking about her.

With a sharp snap, he opened the file in front of him and focused on Ryan’s scrawling signature at the bottom of the page.

Jake leaned back in his chair. Underneath the stubbornness, the pride, he’d sensed Ryan’s private pain. Only a close family member could hurt so deeply, scar so indelibly. Ryan refused to toe the line, said what he felt.

There’s a lot of me in him.

Jake couldn’t go back and change the past. God knows he would’ve tried years ago. He’d even admitted as much to Ryan. I can’t be angry at the woman who saved my life, who raised me as best she could. Who loved me. A lot of kids don’t even get that.

He’d hit an unexpected nerve with that, judging by the look on Ryan’s face. And when he’d offered up the signed statutory declaration, formalizing his verbal promise to keep Blackstone’s afloat, surprise had rendered Ryan speechless.

Jake sighed, suddenly tired of justifying something he himself couldn’t explain. Hell, there were a lot of things that would send his legal department into a spin if they only knew. For instance, last night he’d made a nice little profit on the NASDAQ, an event that would’ve normally brought him the usual adrenaline rush of satisfaction and pleasure. So how come it felt…less than a total rush?

He stood and stalked over to the small kitchenette in the corner of the office, tapping out his impatience as the coffee machine slowly dripped out the expensive Colombian blend.

Finally.

He grabbed the pot, pouring a cup that was one of many that day, forcing away his doubts with the first scalding sip.

You’re doing the right thing, keeping a professional distance from the Blackstones. Getting emotionally involved can only mean disaster.

He’d fix Blackstone’s, turn it around. That’s what he did. He needed to seal this deal, to finish it, so he could get back to his life. A life that suddenly gaped wide, filled with hours of solitary existence.

He frowned and made his way over to the window, staring down at the Sydney CBD. It had changed over the years. He’d been an angry teenager alone in a huge concrete metropolis— a dangerous, exhilarating place for a small-town kid with something to prove. Over the years, through many major developments— some he himself had engineered—Sydney had grown and thrived. It was physical proof of his enormous success. Proof he was no longer the rebellious, stupid kid from the bush.

He sighed. He’d worked hard and long for all he had, steadily erasing that deep dark place in his heart, in his memory. He’d been doing fine until a week ago.

He turned away from the view as he rolled his neck. He needed a distraction. Yet when he glanced back at the financials on the desk, the paper blurred before his eyes. He needed something…warmer.

In the past, sex had taken the edge off, had enabled him to refocus and re-energise. And suddenly, all he could think about was a smart mouth and a kissy-mole.

He shoved his cup across the desk and coffee sloshed over the rim. With a low growl of frustration, he rubbed at the spreading stain.

Damn Blackstone’s and its employees. He slouched into his chair and swivelled back to the window, searching for the familiar angles of AdVance Corp past the metallic curve of the Harbour Bridge, but when he found it, a stab of unfamiliar doubt hit him in the gut.

That’s stupid. Amateur. Irrational. He’d made billions. He regularly dealt with Middle-Eastern kings and oil barons, dined with the cream of society, both here and overseas.

You’re so far out of their league, you’re off the planet.

He squeezed his eyes shut, so tight that silver spots danced behind his lids. There was no way those old fears were going to psyche him out.

They’re Aussie royalty, and you’re just the bastard son of an alcoholic mother.

Jake clenched his teeth and shoved those insidious doubts back with a vicious curse. His stepfather had chipped away at his self-esteem for years, always there with a comment, a sneer, a put-down when Jake screwed up. “You’ll be in jail or dead by eighteen, boy,” was his favourite line. He’d finally stood up to the son of a bitch a week before he’d left, leaving the man with a black eye and a broken hand. Since then, he’d been on his own, determined not to depend on anyone.

And now, suddenly, he had these people relying on him to make the right decision. To save their family legacy. A family that had been stolen from him thirty-two years ago.

Bitterness tightened his chest, the acrid tension weaving up his back to finally settle on his shoulders like a heavy cloak. He remembered too many towns, too many faces, taunting, teasing. April’s sad expression, her face once so pretty and alive, suddenly weathered way beyond her fifty-four years. A woman filled with demons, her own personal and painful reasons for keeping a child from his rightful parents. He’d tried to escape his past, little knowing it wasn’t his to escape from in the first place, even after every million he made, every deal he brokered, which earned him the respect and security he’d been craving.

“Ready for the grand tour?”

Momentarily disorientated, he snapped his eyes up to Holly standing in the doorway with the ever-present notepad and pen. For a few seconds he allowed himself to drink in her neat little figure, the curve of her cheek, the way her eyes steadily met his perusal. And as he did so, the vibrating bitterness gradually seeped out, leaving him suddenly empty and icy cold.

With a nod of finality, he shut those thoughts down and rose.

An excruciating hour later, Jake’s normally tight control was in tatters. They’d gone through every floor in Blackstone’s and he’d spent precisely sixty-two minutes in Holly’s orbit, her gentle fragrance alternately arousing and frustrating him. Her soft, animated voice had tripped over his senses, aided traitorously by the memory of that kissy-mole when her mouth curved into a smile. When she walked, he’d ashamedly found his attention riveted to those curvy hips, swaying one tantalizing step ahead of him.

And her smell… He’d breathed in deeply, guiltily, more than once. Since when had a woman smelled so damn good?

The only time he’d not been thinking about touching her was when they’d passed Howard’s trophy wall. Photos of the man opening the Blackstone’s store. At some formal function. Shaking hands with the Prime Minister, the Queen, four U.S. past-presidents.

Jake had barely been able to contain a sneer. Howard had loved putting his stamp on everything he owned, flaunting his wealth and power. Like the way he’d displayed it on Ursula’s neck.

Disgust bubbled up and with a scowl he choked it back down. He was not like Howard, despite Kimberley’s assertion.

“Let’s move on.”

He jumped at Holly’s soft intrusion, only to have his body react on a more primitive level when his eyes focused on her curves once again. The grey pinstriped skirt moulded her hips, emphasising a defined waist and womanly hips. Her shirt was bright blue, making her eyes stand out, the elbow-length sleeves showing off long arms with a watch on one wrist, a simple gold bangle on the other.

Absently he’d wondered if she had on any makeup at all, given how fresh her face looked. How touchable it looked.

He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and nodded. He imagined Holly taking the news about his real identity with outward calm, a facade that covered up the fact she was a deep thinker. He’d noticed more than once the realities of her thoughts clearly mirrored in her expressive blue eyes.

No, not blue, more green. Like the complexity of shades in the deep ocean, where the—

His thoughts screeched to a halt. Since when had he obsessed about a woman’s eyes before?

Yet despite his control, an unwanted ache started in his groin. An ache that couldn’t be ignored when, an hour after the tour was over, Jake shoved his way into Blackstone’s executive gym.

Instead of solitude, a stretching Holly on the treadmill confronted him, scattering all thoughts of a long hard run to clear his mind.

He stared. And stared. In short bike pants and a cropped sports top, she was gripping one tanned muscular leg behind her in a quad stretch, the white Lycra pulling tight across her breasts as they rose with her deep breaths. As his mouth went dry, she rolled her shoulders and her long ponytail dragged over her damp skin.

Her breath sighed out, quickly engulfing his brain, the part that was still functioning.

His bag dropped unheeded to the floor. She kept right on stretching, her shoulder blades flexing and contracting with the effort.

Swish of the hair.

Deep sigh.

He groaned, ready to beat a hasty retreat, but she must have sensed him because she whirled, pulling out her earbuds. She quickly dropped her leg and grabbed her towel, her chest rising as a trickle of sweat ran down her throat and disappeared in the cleft beneath her damp tank. He followed that journey, until he reluctantly dragged his eyes back up to meet hers.

“Leaving?” he murmured.

“Yes.” In record time, she pulled a sweatshirt over her head then scooped up her bag, quickly heading for the door.

He just stood there, the air as she hightailed it past him yawning cold and empty. Then he heard the door click with finality.

As the gym doors closed behind her, Holly wrapped her arms around her body to ward off the chill. Escape first, then put on your track pants. She thought she’d nearly succeeded until Jake appeared beside her.

“Yours,” he said gruffly, holding out her iPod. She paused, glanced at his hand, then up at his face. A blank, stern face devoid of all warmth.

She slowly took her iPod and couldn’t help but notice he relinquished it without making skin contact. “Thanks.” She turned back to the elevator, repositioned her bag on her shoulder and stared at the ascending floor numbers.

When he remained still, she shot a quick look in his direction. “Working late?”

“This is early for me.”

She smiled thinly but said nothing.

“But…?” he prompted.

“Don’t you ever take a day off?”

He shrugged. “Too much work to do.”

“What’s the point of making all that money if you can’t enjoy yourself?”

He frowned. “I’m not unhappy with what I’ve achieved, Holly. Money doesn’t make you miserable.”

“No. People do that all by themselves.” The elevator doors swung open, signalling the end to their strange conversation. But to Holly’s surprise he followed her in. The doors swished closed and in the next second, he pushed the stop button.

“And to answer your question, I enjoy myself plenty.”

She stilled, her breath rattling around, too harsh in her throat, her heart beating too loudly in her chest. She looked at him, noting his narrowed eyes, the sudden tension in his body as it practically sizzled…not with anger but something else, something indefinable that he struggled to contain.

Apprehension chugged through her body, leaving her immobile. Wasn’t he supposed to be ice cold in the face of adversity?

Then he fixed on her mouth and she felt a hot flush start in her belly and fan upwards. She parted her lips, the air in her lungs thickly seeping out. Was he actually thinking about kissing her?

He moved quickly, so smoothly for a man the size of Ayers Rock that it took the rest of her breath away. Or maybe it was the kiss stealing all her will to function properly. It froze her limbs, stuttered her heartbeat. Erased all the memories of other kisses that had come before.

When his hot mouth covered hers in deep possession, his hands buried in her hair, preventing escape, a low groan escaped her. The kiss, the sheer power and force of it, stole her will, along with any denials she may have entertained. All that existed was Jake and the force of his kiss, the utter command of his lips sliding over hers and his tongue invading her mouth.

She took a deep, shuddering breath as her eyes fluttered closed. His smell was so different from anything she’d experienced, the heat, the passion. When his hands cupped her face, holding her in place, Holly kissed him right back.

* * *

It did Jake in, finally having her lush mouth beneath his, that tiny mole teasing the corner, his to kiss. The mole that had distracted him time and again for hours on end.

Her skin scorched him, as if a furnace burned just below the surface. Suddenly the desire to have her naked, to be against the rest of that silken skin, crashed into him.

His hands were under her sweatshirt and he hit what he was seeking—hot, damp flesh. But like an addict craving more, he wasn’t satisfied with the mere touch of her skin, the feel of her rib cage under his questing hand. He wanted—needed—more.

With his blood pounding thickly in his veins, the ache in his groin an almost unbearable tightness, he found the edge of her tank top and eased his way under to the gentle curve of one breast.

Her sudden gasp snapped him back to reality, and he wrenched his mouth away from the temptation of hers.

What the hell are you doing?

From a great gaping distance he heard Holly’s breathless question, thick with passion.

“Jake?”

She’d never know how difficult it was to withdraw from the pleasures her body promised. How much he ached to succumb to the raging passion that forced beads of sweat to run down his back.

Desire grabbed at him, yanked and twisted his brain until he was left hot, hard and frustrated. But with a shuddering sigh, he withdrew and stepped back, the cool air rushing into the gaping chasm between their bodies.

“Pull your shirt down,” he said, knowing it came out more harshly than he intended when the light of desire flickered and died on Holly’s face.

Self-disgust filled him, quickly followed by guilt. He’d lost control. For the first time in years he’d lost it.

He wanted to reach out to her, offer some kind of apology, but if her crossed arms and steely back were any indication, he’d have a better chance of flying to the moon.

Slowly, he released the emergency stop button and with a sudden jerk, the elevator started up. “I’ll take you home.”

She shot him an incredulous look. “I’m not your responsibility, Jake. I can catch a cab.”

“Look,” he said slowly, turning to her. “We…”

“Jake, I understand.” She refused to meet his eyes as the elevator doors slid open. “It’s not a big deal.”

Jake stared at her retreating back, the words stuck to the roof of his mouth. Not a big deal? So how come he suddenly felt the urgency to taste her right now? To have those shapely legs wrap around his waist and feel the erotic glide as he buried himself deep inside her?

Dammit. Now he was hard again.

With a soft curse, he pressed the basement button before he did something even more foolish than what he’d just already done.

As the morning sun crept cautiously into her bedroom, Holly lay staring at the ceiling. What on earth had possessed her to kiss Jake Vance? The implication sent a wave of cold reality over her hot skin. They’d been about to… She shook her head. And how she had wanted to. Still wanted to.

It shouldn’t be. He stood for everything she despised, everything that had taken away her family and forced her into this spying role. But when she tried summoning up righteous anger all that emerged was an overwhelming mesh of confusion. It happened every time he glanced her way, ran that frankly sensual gaze over her face, let it linger on her mouth.

Despite her best efforts, she was acutely interested in him. How could she be so attracted if he was truly the bad guy everyone was intent on perpetuating?

You’re an intelligent woman, Holly McLeod. Apart from one obvious glitch, you can tell the good guys from the bad. Yet Jake was a study in extremes. Corporate raider or saviour? Genuine attraction or predatory lust? He’d gotten her so wound up she didn’t know what to believe any more.

Deep in thought, she walked slowly into the bathroom, and by the time she’d fixed her makeup and left for work, her bad mood had been replaced by the day’s schedule.

She walked into Blackstone’s foyer with a sigh of relief. With coffee in one hand, handbag in the other, she’d survived the early morning bustle of George Street and a sharp biting wind that had determinedly yanked at her coattails. But after she pushed the elevator button and the doors opened, her luck ran out.

Jake Vance. In the flesh. In the warm, heated, taut flesh that she knew felt, smelled, tasted divine.

“Good morning, Holly.”

The warm intimacy of his voice, combined with the small interior swamped her, leaving goose bumps on her skin.

“Good morning.” She repositioned her cappuccino while hitching her bag on her shoulder.

As the elevator sped smoothly upwards, she surreptitiously eyed him. Twice she started to say something, and twice she hesitated, swallowing the words on the tip of her tongue. Surely he’d say something about last night, even just to set her straight with a familiar It didn’t mean anything. Let’s just keep things professional.

Yet he remained silent, reading his newspaper in complete and utter concentration. As she stared at his firm grip on the pages, her brain flashed back to last night, to this same place, to those long skilful fingers. The way they’d teased. The way he’d touched her as his tongue had eased inside her mouth.

She swallowed a shocked gasp, snapping her focus back to the doors.

“Do you have anything specific on the agenda today?” She forced cool professionalism into her voice. Unfortunately, her idea of broaching a business-related topic only effectively made her the center of his attention.

His slow perusal of her was thorough and hot. She tried to ignore it but on every level, her body tingled with the attention. Instead she determinedly stared at the ascending numbers. Surely if you don’t look at him, he’ll lose his effect. Like a solar eclipse.

“I have meetings,” he said. “Look, Holly. About last night.”

And here it comes. Holly shook her head, hot embarrassment flooding her cheeks as the doors slid open. Quickly she strode out, escaping the warm intimacy that reminded her of last night. He followed closely. “You don’t need to—”

“It was—”

The both paused awkwardly as Holly unlocked the glass door until she blurted out, “It doesn’t matter. Really.”

His eyes narrowed, darkening. “Doesn’t it?” he challenged. “I think it matters more than you want to admit.”

“How would you know?” She tried for nonchalance as she walked in and placed her coffee carefully on the desk.

“Because I know how to read people. You were an eager participant in that kiss.”

She flushed. “Is that how you win—by figuring out what people want then turning it against them?”

“I present them with an offer they can’t refuse.”

On another man, the arrogance would have forced a sharp, scornful rebuttal from her lips. On Jake, there was no egotism or conceit. It was simply a statement of truth.

She tipped her head. “So there’s nothing you’ve wanted that you couldn’t have.”

Danger. She sensed it the very moment Jake’s eyes darkened. The air seemed to thicken, and the seconds ticked by on the clock so loudly they echoed the beat of her heart as it upped tempo.

“I still have…things I want to achieve.”

She finally dragged her eyes away, unable to bear the intensity in his any longer. It was like a promise, a weird prediction of the future, of her and him together. Completely.

“What about a wife? A child to leave all your wealth to?”

“Eventually.” A stab of emotion, totally unexpected, tightened his jaw for one brief second. Then he blinked and his signature expression of cool blankness took over.

So he had thought about that. And letting her know irritated him, for some reason. Why? Did he view it as some kind of weakness? Or… She swallowed a small guilty breath. Did Mia’s betrayal still affect the unfeeling Mr Midas Touch?

After he closed his office door, Holly suddenly realised they’d both avoided discussing the implications of last night. And that non-closure worried her.