Kelly Hunter – Playboy Boss, Live-In Mistress (страница 2)

‘Think of it as the toy truck every mother in the known universe keeps in her handbag for when she’s out and about and wants her fractious toddler to behave.’ She fixed him with the queen of all challenging smiles, then picked up her book and settled back into her seat. ‘Enjoy.’

‘No, really. You shouldn’t have. They’re heavily invested in the US sub-prime housing market. They’re going down.’

‘Then see what you can pick up in the fire sale. Isn’t that what you do?’

She had a point. She did have a point. But he didn’t feel like reading any more. He needed to diffuse some of the sexual awareness currently tying him in knots, and if seduction wasn’t an option—and it wasn’t—then an argument would have to suffice. All he had to do was pick a reason, any reason. Maybe he should voice those mostly brotherly instincts and tell her that entertaining another man while living under his roof was out of the question. ‘About us living together…’

‘You mean about us occasionally meeting each other outside of working hours in common entertainment areas?’ Sienna arched a delicate eyebrow and smiled a hoyden’s smile. ‘And what we should do if the other person has someone else with them?’

Lex smiled back, every sense sharpening beneath his lazy façade. She did want to fight. It would be churlish of him not to oblige. ‘If you happen upon me while I’m entertaining, I will of course introduce you to my companion and quite possibly ask you to join us, at which point you will in all likelihood refuse and give me one of those looks—yes, that’s the one—and take yourself off elsewhere. Does that sound reasonable?’

‘Does that scenario work both ways?’

‘Well…no.’ He loved the way her eyes flashed fire and her chin came up. ‘Should you wish to entertain, I’ll require three days’ notice and a thorough background check on the individual, or individuals, concerned. How does that sound?’

‘Restrictive.’

Perfect. ‘One can never be too careful. Imagine how you’d hate yourself if you were played for a fool by a reporter after an inside story on me. You’d be crushed. And I just know that somehow—in some nebulous parallel universe accessible only to the female psyche—it would be all my fault.’ He shook his head sorrowfully. ‘Make that five days notice. I hate being the one at fault.’

‘You think I can’t recognise a reporter when I see one?’ she said with the quirk of an eyebrow. ‘With my family background?’

‘You’re right,’ he said, conceding yet another strategic point. Not a problem to his way of thinking given that the entire aim of this conversation was not necessarily to win but to fight. Sienna’s mother had been many years older and several hundred million dollars wealthier than her artist husband. The press had feasted on the disparity for years, but the banquet had really started with Sienna’s mother’s alleged suicide. The squandered millions. The faithless husband. The forged will and the missing paintings. Two months after Sienna’s mother died, her father had played chicken with a freight train and lost, and the gutter press had started up again. Eventually, thankfully, they’d moved on to newer, juicier stories but Sienna’s loathing for the press and her reluctance to step anywhere near the limelight remained. ‘Bad example. A reporter wouldn’t last five minutes with you. But what say a thief tried to woo you in order to gain access to the complex? Know anything about thieves?’

A fleeting smile crossed the generous curve of her lips. ‘People call you a thief, Lex. I know a lot about you.’

He knew what people called him. He’d heard it all before and was prepared to let the insult pass. Actually, no, he wasn’t. This time the insult rankled. Time to ramp this argument up a notch. ‘I pay for what I take.’

‘You pay a pittance for what you take—then you break it down, repackage it, and make a fortune,’ she said with brutal accuracy. ‘Doesn’t matter if it’s legal, Lex. To some people’s way of thinking, you’re still a thief.’

‘The technical term is corporate raider.’

‘Raider, brigand, pirate…thief.’ Her eyes challenged him to explain the difference. Presuming there was a difference.

‘Those companies have been ruined by mismanagement, overextension, or plain old neglect long before I ever arrive on the scene,’ he argued. ‘I’m not responsible for that.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘You’re right, you’re not.’ Sienna opened her mouth as if to say more, but closed it again without uttering a word. She opted instead for opening her book and trying to ignore him, but he wasn’t about to let her off the hook that easily. He reached over, took the book from her hands and shoved it down the side of her seat.

‘Say it,’ he said curtly. ‘Whatever you were about to say, say it.’

Sienna looked mutinous, not to mention defensive. Lex knew from experience that following orders—his or anyone else’s—was not her strong suit. But then she spoke.

‘You could save those companies, Lex. Turn them around rather than tear them to pieces.’

‘I knew that was where you were heading with this. I knew it!’ He’d wanted an argument, he reminded himself bleakly. Just not this one. ‘It’s not that simple.’

‘I realise that. But you could save them—’

‘You give me far too much credit.’

‘—if you wanted to,’ she finished. ‘You just don’t want to.’

‘You’re right. I don’t,’ he murmured and felt his shoulder muscles bunch and tighten, and all because of a criticism he’d heard a thousand times before. He’d had enough of this flight. Of Sienna’s criticism. Of wanting Sienna in his arms with one breath and wishing her a million miles away with his next. He’d had more than enough of that.

He half rose from his seat, trying to get past her so he could go somewhere else. Somewhere Sienna’s measuring, questioning gaze wasn’t, but she didn’t shrink back in her seat to let him past like any normal person would do. Oh, no, she didn’t do that. Now that he’d pushed her to state her case, she wanted a reply. ‘This isn’t about fixing other people’s mistakes,’ he said curtly. ‘It’s about capitalising on them. Darwin’s theory of evolution fits the corporate business model to perfection. It’s survival of the fittest, the fastest, the strongest, and the smartest. Not to mention the most ruthless.’

‘Where’s your sense of social responsibility?’ she asked quietly.

‘With me and mine.’

‘Working with you these past few days has been such a revelation.’ Her green on gold gaze held him prisoner; she would not back down. ‘Just when you think you know a person…’

He smiled mirthlessly. ‘What? You didn’t think I was ruthless?’

‘Not that ruthless.’

‘Well, now you know.’ He could have brushed past her then, would have if he hadn’t made the fatal mistake of dropping his gaze to her lips, those soft, perfectly shaped lips. He leaned down, put his hands on the armrests either side of her and moved in close, until his mouth almost brushed hers. ‘Want to be mine, Sienna?’ he whispered with more than a lick of temper to his words.

She went perfectly still. As if she’d forgotten how to move, how to breathe. As if he were the predator and she the prey, thought Lex, and felt his body respond to the notion with savage satisfaction. Embracing it, savouring it, as simmering temper turned into a different kind of heat altogether. ‘Breathe,’ he whispered.

‘No.’ Her voice sounded thready, uncertain, and the beast inside him purred.

‘You’ll die if you don’t.’

She took a breath and released it raggedly before easing slowly back against the seat, her startled gaze not leaving his. ‘Breathing’s not the problem here,’ she muttered and took another shaky breath. ‘I’m on it, see? But I’d rather not be yours.’

‘No?’ Lex smiled grimly and slid his gaze down her body. At first glance, Sienna’s body language backed up her words. Her hands were ironing out the creases in her little pink skirt, smoothing the material down towards her knees as if she would have liked a couple more inches of fabric. Her knees pressed primly together, barring his way, and she’d tucked her legs tightly against the seat, demure-schoolgirl-style. Alas, there was nothing demure about her delicate pink sandals. Those shoes were all grown up.

So were other things about her.

At her throat he noticed the frantic beating of a pulse gone wild.

Outlined against her fitted white business shirt he could see the unmistakable imprint of nipples gone hard.

Sienna Raleigh, childhood nemesis and bane of his existence, was all hot and bothered. By him.

Somewhere down in the purely primal recesses of his being, Lex found the notion deeply, deeply satisfying. He pulled back to stare broodingly down at her. That tiny telltale reaction was going to cost her. It was going to cost them both. ‘Just when you think you know a person…’ he echoed softly.

Sienna was the first to look away.

‘Tell me something, Sienna. If you don’t like what I do for a living and you don’t want to share a house with me for the next month, why the hell did you come to me and ask me to train you as a PA in the first place?’

‘You could have said no,’ she said finally, still not deigning to look at him.

‘You have no idea how close I came to saying exactly that.’