A Week To Be Wild / Legal Seduction

Sonya’s ‘duh’ look of incredulity soured Libby’s tea—a less than satisfactory brew made from the meagre selection in her hotel room. She pushed it away, sipping water from a bottle instead, stalling for time.

Refusing to hear his proposal didn’t make sense. Business sense. But instinct had brought her this far in her success story, and the same instinct told her to stay away from Alex Lancaster. He was just too charismatic, charming, virile. Nope. Her reaction to him this afternoon confirmed it; he was dangerous.

She didn’t do danger. And despite his enormous accomplishments, she couldn’t abide his reputation for recklessness.

‘Well, if you take the account the effects for the company will be the same.’ She plastered on her best convincing smile. ‘There’s a hefty bonus in it. Think of all the baby stuff you could buy.’

Wow, low blow, Libby. Cheap shot.

Sonya huffed. Probably she was too uncomfortable to appreciate the merits of Libby’s inducements.

‘No way. I won’t have time. I’ll end up handing it over to you anyway, when I go on maternity leave. And, to be honest, I should have quit by now. I don’t want to have this baby in the elevator with only Vinnie for assistance. You know how he fusses. I’d end up killing him and then where would you be?’

A queasy roll of the stomach put an end to Libby’s thoughts of popping out for dinner. She’d yet to find a temporary stand-in for Sonya—the would-be candidates they’d interviewed so far had been woefully inadequate to fill such capable shoes.

The pair were cut from the same cloth. Had studied at the same college. The same business school. When Libby had started out, Sonya had come on board and they’d created Noble and Pullman, investing in the joint venture, teaching each other as much as they’d learned from each other.

Any day now, there was going to be a substantial Sonya-shaped hole left in their small but precious company.

As if he’d heard his name mentioned, Vinnie, Libby’s outspoken and at times frankly inappropriate PA, entered her office, poking his head over Sonya’s shoulder so his face filled the screen. She waved, relieved to have a reprieve from justifying her inexplicable reluctance to work with Lancaster IT—or rather its sexy founder.

‘How are things going, Vinnie? Any more responses?’ She’d approached a few medium-sized firms here in London, hoping to drum up a little new business before she returned home in a few days.

‘No’ really.’

Vinnie spoke with a thick Scottish brogue she failed to understand most days.

‘Do you want me to make some follow-up calls?’

Libby sighed. She was good at her job. Could sell anything. But still she sometimes struggled to sell herself. Never quite outgrowing her humble, wrong-side-of-the-tracks beginnings.

‘No. I’ll take care of it—and if I can’t see anyone I’ll just be a tourist for a few days. Perhaps I’ll meet the Queen.’

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken any holiday, and the two worried faces peering back at her from her laptop screen confirmed that her suggestion wasn’t just alien to her.

She needed a change of subject, before Vinnie pulled up a list of London’s singles clubs and Sonya told her—again—that it was ‘time to move on’.

‘Are you taking care of Sonya?’

Her friend’s eyes rolled.

Vinnie smiled. ‘Well, you know what she’s like… Let’s just say I’m trying. If I end up delivering this wee one…’ he stroked Sonya’s belly and she batted him away ‘…I want a bonus.’

They all chuckled, but the sound held a nervous undertone. Libby shouldn’t have left the helm at such a crucial time. She’d been lured by the all-expenses-paid trip to a city she’d always dreamed of visiting and had been flattered that they’d asked for her personally to speak at the conference.

‘I came in to tell you I’ve had Alex Lancaster on the phone this morning. He called asking for your personal number,’ said Vinnie.

Libby straightened in her chair, her heart thumping double time.

‘Don’t worry, hen. I didn’t give it to him—although he’s a determined young fella.’

Libby pressed her lips together. Vinnie needed no encouragement for the ridiculous things he said. ‘Young fella’ hardly did Alex Lancaster justice.

‘He seemed to know where you’re staying, so he may call. Said he had a “business proposition”.’ Vinnie made air quotes, a small smirk on his face. ‘And wanted to discuss it before you left the UK.’

The one mouthful of tepid tea she’d managed sloshed inside Libby’s hollow insides.

Sonya’s eyes rounded to the size of her pregnant belly. She lumbered into a sitting position, glaring into the webcam. ‘He really wants you.’ Her shrewd eyes narrowed.

Libby chewed her lip, evading comment. The last thing she needed was this unlikely pair of would-be matchmakers getting the wrong idea about Alex Lancaster’s intentions and her own position. She’d already said too much.

Flutters invaded her chest at the thought of speaking to him, of seeing him again. Stop. She didn’t have to take his call. She’d already heard his proposition. Her answer would be the same.

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’s neck burned, just knowing that Sonya and Vinnie were listening from the laptop beside her. They’d worked and played alongside her for the last four years, seeing her at her best and at her worst. Although the ‘play’ had been virtually nonexistent 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, deep and authoritative, screamed 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 itching to twist 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 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 different 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 abilities. 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. The image of him naked and sprawled there, telling her what he wanted with that upper crust voice of his made her heart hammer. 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 many 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.

Imagined 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—as if it was 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 in 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 gasped. ‘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 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?

CHAPTER TWO

ALEX LANCASTER STOPPED the treadmill and reached for the towel he’d thrown over the handrail, using it to the wipe the sting of sweat from his eyes. He preferred to run in the Oxfordshire countryside, or along the banks of the River Thames. But on the nights when he stayed in the city his office treadmill just had to suffice. And today he needed to push himself twice as hard to outrun the restlessness.

Despite his forty-minute workout, thoughts of the enigma that was Olivia Noble had dogged his every step.

Briefly checking his phone for urgent messages, he clicked off the TV that dominated one wall of his spacious office, silencing the business news, and headed for the en-suite shower.

Alex ducked his head under the pounding spray, ignoring the flicker of interest from his cock—a renewed flicker brought on by the curvy, sophisticated brunette. He’d admired her enough from afar, but in person she’d blown him away. Sassy, shrewd, cutting through his bullshit, as she’d no doubt call it.

He closed his eyes, recalling the sexy timbre of her husky voice. She spoke as if she had a bad case of laryngitis or a lifelong smoking habit. She didn’t have either. He’d scoured every detail he could find about her on the internet, filling in the blanks with his vivid, slightly perverted imagination.

An imagination inspired by the thick, glossy dark hair she wore fastened at her nape in an elegant ponytail, by the provocative curve of her rounded hips concealed by the figure-hugging pencil skirts she wore and the tiny glimpse of pale, creamy cleavage he’d seen that morning when she’d moved away from him, her blouse tugging across her breasts and revealing just enough to make him hard for the rest of the day.

Of course their verbal spat on the phone hadn’t helped either.

He scrubbed shampoo into his scalp, his fingertips punishing. He’d never had to work so hard to entice someone to work with him. His employees loved him. He gave them stellar health insurance cover, more holidays than were legally required and fat bonuses for a job well done. He even offered his top software designers and their families a week’s stay a year at his boutique winery in Oxfordshire as a loyalty inducement. Consequently, he retained his best staff in what was a highly competitive global industry.

Olivia Noble had almost sounded insulted when he’d discussed her fee. Surely she wasn’t that naive? Like it or not, money made the world go round—any good businessperson knew that. And, from his research, Olivia certainly deserved the title—something that doubled her allure in his mind.

She had graduated first in her year with a Bachelor of Commerce degree, had a master’s degree in marketing, and in four years had taken her company from a start-up to one of the top ten marketing firms in New York. Her work on the high-profile Kids Count charity had dragged her from obscurity to his attention.

Did her reluctance have anything to do with the sparks of chemistry that seemed to arc between them? Did she feel it too? That almost frenzied pull?

He soaped himself more vigorously, turning the dial on the shower down to tepid, to cool the blaze she’d evoked.

She’d wanted nothing to do with him earlier today. He’d planned to woo her to work with him over the lunch put on by the Business School. But she’d acted as if she couldn’t get away quickly enough. Straight talking, no simpering or inane flattery.

And hadn’t that been a big fucking turn-on? Another point in Ms Noble’s favour.

Most women he met struggled to conceal the spark of excitement in their eyes, as if in meeting him they’d been handed a winning lottery ticket. Sadly, regardless of how attractive they were or how much they shared in common, he could never quite be sure their interest was in him the person or him the young entrepreneur listed on Forbes.

Not that Olivia had been able to fully conceal the flush of her chest or the rapid flutter of the pulse in her neck. He’d felt it too. The immediate slug of fascination that had had his head swivelling in a double-take the minute she’d stepped onto the stage to deliver her speech to the packed auditorium of keen undergraduates.

And close up… He’d had to discreetly adjust his cock in his slim-fit trousers as she’d walked away from their frustratingly brief interaction, trailing a light floral scent in her wake. He’d wanted to follow her, his nose to the ground like a bloodhound, sniffing at her sexy four-inch stilettos.

Roughly towelling himself dry, he analysed their arduous phone conversation. Why was the delectable Ms Noble so reluctant to take the account? He’d seen her body of work. She was amply capable of running both the Able-Active marketing strategy and that of Lancaster IT. The majority of her current client base was situated in the States. Surely she saw the benefits of expanding globally? And why had her initial refusal stung his modest ego? Lancaster IT ranked in the Financial Times ‘Global 500’, so it couldn’t be his professional credentials.

He slipped into jeans and a clean shirt, selecting a blazer from the supply he kept at work. He grabbed his phone, frustration mounting. He’d grown accustomed to getting what he wanted, and if things went against him, he made them work. Refused to give up.

Perhaps Olivia’s aversion was to him personally.

No, that didn’t make sense. She hadn’t been able to hide her body’s unconscious reaction any more than he’d been able to hide his. She must share his personal interest—her reluctance was for mixing the two. But they were similar in many ways. Driven. Career-focussed.

He’d just have to convince her they could have the best of both worlds. That they needed to scratch this itch and then put it aside and focus on the important work ahead. Rewarding work. Work that would make a real difference and allow him to put some of his wealth into creating change. Or at least help him atone for Jenny…

He swallowed, forcing his mind away from a well-worn, unwanted path. He had to move forward. Use past mistakes to make good future decisions.

He blew out a slow, controlled sigh, his mind returning to Olivia. She’d eventually relented, her manner turning brisk, putting him in his place.

His cock twitched again, and impatience urged him to fire a brief text to his driver.

By the time he was seated in the back of his car, speeding through the streets of London, now devoid of rush-hour traffic, he’d formulated a charm offensive.

If a lucrative business deal couldn’t tempt out her reluctant smile, he’d have to find other inducements.

Libby sighed. Her fingers absently swirled the stirrer in her martini and the general hubbub of the hotel bar behind her faded to background noise.