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Louise Fuller – Kidnapped For The Tycoon's Baby (страница 3)

18

And before he had a chance to respond she slipped through the doors, just before they slid shut.

Her heart was racing. Her legs felt weak. Any woman would have been tempted by such an invitation. But she had been telling the truth.

Since her disastrous relationship with Connor, she had made a decision and stuck to it. Her work life and her personal life were two separate, concurrent strands, and she never mixed the two. She would certainly never date anyone from work. Or go to a party with them.

Particularly if the invitation came from her boss.

Remembering the way his eyes had drifted appraisingly over her face, she shivered.

And most especially not if that boss was Ramsay Walker.

In business, he was heralded as a genius, and he was undeniably handsome and sexy. But Ramsay Walker was the definition of trouble.

Okay, she knew with absolute certainty that sex with him would be mind-blowing. How could it not be? The man was a force of nature made flesh and blood—the human personification of a hurricane or a tsunami. But that was why he was so dangerous. He might be powerful, intense, unstoppable, but he also left chaos and destruction behind him.

Even if she didn’t believe all the stories in the media about his womanising, she had witnessed it with her own eyes. Ramsay clearly valued novelty and variety above all else. And, if that wasn’t enough of a warning to stay well away, he’d also publicly and repeatedly stated his desire never to marry or have children.

Not that she was planning on doing either any time soon. She and her mother had done fine on their own, but getting involved on any level with a man who seemed so determinedly opposed to such basic human connections just wasn’t an option. It had taken too long to restore her pride and build up a good reputation, to throw either away for a heartbreaking smile.

Three hours later, though, she was struggling to defend both.

* * *

In the RWI boardroom silence had fallen as the man at the head of the table leaned back in his chair, his casual stance at odds with the dark intensity of his gaze. A gaze that was currently locked on Nola’s face.

‘So let me get this right,’ he observed softly. ‘What you’re trying to say is that I’m being naive. Or complacent.’

A pulse of anger leapfrogged over his skin.

Did she really think she was going to get away with insulting him in his own boardroom? Ram thought, watching Nola blink, seeing anger, confusion and frustration colliding in those blue, blue eyes.

Eyes that made a man want to quench his thirst—and not for water. The same blue eyes that should have warned him to ignore her CV and glowing references and stick with men in grey suits who talked about algorithms and crypto-ransomware. But Nola Mason was not the kind of woman it was easy to ignore.

Refusing his invitation to meet at the office, she had insisted instead that they meet in some grimy café in downtown Sydney.

There, surrounded by surly teenagers in hoodies and bearded geeks, she had shown him just how easy it was to breach RWI’s security. It had been an impressive display—unorthodox, but credible and provocative.

Only not as provocative as the sight of her long slim legs and rounded bottom in tight black jeans, or the strip of smooth bare stomach beneath her T-shirt that he’d glimpsed when she reached over to the next table for a napkin.

It wasn’t love at first sight.

For starters, he didn’t believe in love.

Only, watching her talk, he had been knocked sideways by lust, by curiosity, by the challenge in those blue eyes. By whatever it was that triggered sexual attraction between two people. It had been beyond his conscious control, and he’d had to struggle not to pull her across the table by the long dark hair spilling onto the shoulders of her battered leather jacket.

But it was the dark blue velvet ribbon tied around her throat that had goaded his senses to the point where he had thought he was going to black out.

Those eyes, that choker, had made up his mind. In other words, he’d let his libido hire her.

It was the first time he’d ever allowed lust to dictate a business decision. And it would be the last, he thought grimly, glancing once again at the tersely written email she had sent him that morning. He gritted his teeth. If Ms Nola Mason was expecting him to pay more, she could damn well sing for it.

Nola swallowed, shifting in her seat. Her heart was pounding, and she was struggling to stay calm beneath the battleship-grey of Ram’s scrutiny. Most CEOs were exacting and autocratic, but cyber security was typically an area in which the boss was almost always willing to hand over leadership to an expert.

Only Ram was not a typical boss.

Right from that first interview it had been clear that not only was his reputation as the enfant terrible of the tech industry fully justified, but that, unusually, he could also demonstrate considerably more than a working knowledge of the latest big data technologies.

Truthfully, however, Ram’s intelligence wasn’t the only reason she found it so hard to confront him. His beauty, his innate self-confidence, and that still focus—the sense that he was watching her and only her—made her heart flip-flop against her ribs.

Her blue eyes flickered across the boardroom table to where he sat, lounging opposite her. It might be shallow, but who wouldn’t be affected by such blatant perfection? And it didn’t help that he appealed on so many different levels.

With grey eyes that seemed to lighten and darken in harmony with his moods, messy black hair, a straight nose, and a jaw permanently darkened with stubble, he might just as easily be a poet or a revolutionary as a CEO. And the hard definition of muscle beneath his gleaming white shirt only seemed to emphasise that contradiction even more.

Dragging her gaze back up to his face, Nola felt her nerves ball painfully. The tension in his jaw told her that she was balancing on eggshells. Concentrate, she told herself—surely she hadn’t meant to imply that he was naive or complacent?

‘No, that’s not what I’m saying,’ she said quickly, ignoring the faint sigh of relief that echoed round the table as she did so. She drew in a deep breath. ‘What you’re actually being is arrogant, and unreasonable.’

Somebody—she wasn’t sure who—gave a small whimper.

For a fraction of a second Ram thought he might have misheard her. Nobody called him arrogant or unreasonable. But, glancing across at Nola, he knew immediately that he’d heard her correctly.

Her cheeks were flushed, but she was eyeing him steadily, and he felt a flicker of anger and something like admiration. She was brave—he’d give her that. And determined. He knew his reputation, and it had been well and truly earned. His negotiating skills were legendary, and his single-minded ruthlessness had turned a loan from his grandfather into a global brand.

A pulse began to beat in his groin. Normally she would be emptying her desk by now. Only the humming in his blood seemed to block out all rational thought so that he felt dazed, disorientated by her accusation. But why? What was it about this woman that made it so difficult for him to stay focused?

He didn’t know. But whatever it was it had been instant and undeniable. When he’d walked into that coffee shop she had stood up, shaken his hand, and his body had reacted automatically—not just a spark but a fire starting in his blood and burning through his veins.

It had been devastating, unprecedented. At the time he’d assumed it was because she was so unlike any of the other women of his acquaintance. Women who would sacrifice anything and anyone to fit in, to make their lives smooth. Women who chose conformity and comfort over risk.

Nola took risks. That was obvious from the way she had dressed and behaved at her interview. He liked it that she broke the rules. Every single time he came into contact with her he liked it more—liked her more.

And she liked him too.

Only every single time she came into contact with him she gave him the brush-off. Or at least she tried too. But her eyes gave her away.

As though sensing his thoughts, Nola glanced up and looked away, her hand rising protectively to touch her throat. Instantly the pulse in his groin began to beat harder and faster.

He had never had to chase a woman before—let alone coax her into his bed. It was both maddening and unbelievably erotic.

At the thought of Nola in his bed, wearing nothing but that velvet choker, he felt a stab of sexual frustration so painful that he had to grip the arms of his chair to stop himself from groaning out loud.

‘That’s a pretty damning assessment, Ms Mason,’ he said softly. ‘Obviously if I thought you were being serious we’d be having a very different conversation. So I’m going to assume you’re trying to shock me into changing my mind.’

Nola took a breath. Her insides felt tight and a prickling heat was spreading up her spine. Could everyone else in the room feel the tension between her and Ram? Or was it all in her head?

Stupid question. She knew it was real—and not just real. It was dangerous. Whatever this thing was between them, it was clearly hazardous—not only to her reason but to her instinct for self-preservation. Why else was she picking a fight with the boss in public?