Рейчел Бейли – At the Billionaire's Beck and Call? / High-Society Secret Baby: At the Billionaire's Beck and Call? / High-Society Secret Baby (страница 14)

She opened her mouth but he held up a hand.

“—and rightly so. There were things I should have told you up front, and I regret that. But we’ve moved past it. We could have a good working relationship if you take on the Australian arm of this company.”

She smiled wryly, kicking her heels out straight ahead, her gaze focused on them. “You know, a month ago, I would have jumped at that offer. That job was everything I was working toward.”

There was something in what she said—no, in what she wasn’t saying—that drew him.

He folded his arms across his chest. “Why that job?”

She turned to smile up at him, eyes twinkling. “Shouldn’t you be extolling the advantages of the position? Talking it up?”

“I’m curious.” And he was. The drive to understand the mystery of Macy was stronger in this moment than any other concern. He could spend years asking her questions just to hear what she’d say. “There are hundreds of jobs that are suitable to your skills. Why is this one the one you wanted?”

Macy stilled. “Honestly?” she asked, her face candid, as if the enclosed room with its newspapered walls had become a haven away from the world. A place away from reality. He liked being there with her.

He swallowed. “Yes.”

“I want to be CEO, so whether the company flourishes or perishes can be attributed to me and my team. I’d rather be CEO of a midsized company than have a senior position at a large company. And I want to be CEO of a company with an annual turnover in the range we forecast for Chocolate Diva.”

“That’s quite a specific aim.”

She smiled again, acknowledging his point. “Yes, it is.”

“Have you had that goal long?”

She breathed in slowly. Too slowly. “Eight years.”

When he’d first met her, he’d found her hard to read—as he was sure she appeared to most people. But he was coming to understand the nuances of her expressions. Her gestures. The thought made his chest expand a fraction and drove him to try to understand what she was avoiding telling him.

“Why a company this size?”

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It seemed a good number.”

“No.” He smiled lazily. “You haven’t answered my question.”

She arched an eyebrow, obviously a little surprised. “It’s a good midsize company to prove myself in.”

“Sounds reasonable.” He pushed off the counter and moved to stand in front of her. “But that’s not it. Why?”

She frowned at his rejection of her replies. “There’s no other reason.”

He leaned one hand on the countertop either side of her, trapping her and bringing their mouths within inches of each other. “Your eyes tell me there’s more to this story,” he murmured. “Why do you want a company this size, Macy?”

Silence met his question, but he waited. Her warm, sweet breath fanned over his face, driving him a little crazy, and still he waited.

Then she replied in a rush. “Because that’s the size of my father’s company.”

It was the truth this time. He felt it in his bones. His fingers picked up a lock of hair that had escaped the confines of the twist she’d redone after their flight and toyed with it. “You want to beat him? Show you’re better than him?”

Her pupils dilated as she looked from his eyes to his mouth. “No,” she whispered.

“Tell me.”

Her pink tongue slid across her lips then she closed her eyes, as if forming the thought in her mind. When she opened them again, she was bare, vulnerable. Willingly open to him. “I want to prove to him, and myself, that I should have been his heir. He wanted a son, but he didn’t get one. And now he’s willing to blackmail you into marrying me to keep the company in the family. It never entered his mind to pass it to me.”

Ryder swore and shook his head at Ian Ashley’s stupidity. He’d assumed Macy wasn’t in line for the inheritance because she’d walked away from her family, not the other way around.

He picked up her hands, linking their fingers. “That’s rough.”

“You see my point?” She looked up at him, her wide hazel eyes searching his. She was extraordinarily pretty, but more than that pulled at him. It was as if he could see into her soul—see her need for someone to understand who she was and what she’d been through.

He squeezed her fingers. “Yes, I do. If it’d happened to me, I’d be more angry than you.”

For a split second her eyes glistened. Then she blinked twice rapidly and disentangled their hands. When she met his eyes again, all traces of emotional vulnerability were gone.

She smiled. “Thanks.”

Taking his cue from her, he stepped back, out of her personal space, but his mind couldn’t make the same disconnect. He needed to do something. Something to make this right for her.

“Marry me, and after I buy your father’s company, I’ll put you in as CEO. You’ll show everyone, including him, what a blazing good job you can do.”

Her head tipped to the side and she frowned, as if surprised by his offer. But then she shook her head. “That’s sweet, but no. I don’t want his company anymore. It’d feel tainted.”

“Okay then.” He dug his hands into his pockets, mind racing, trying to find a solution for her, and solve his issue with his father’s will at the same time. “How’s this? Marry me and I’ll give you a company twice the size of Ashley International. Lock, stock and barrel, it’ll be yours.”

She shook her head but smiled in acknowledgement of his offer as she refused it.

“You can have your career goal right now by marrying me.” He arched a brow. “What’s not to like?”

She crossed her trousered legs at the ankle, leaving her shiny black heels sitting in a sexy pose. “What meaning would it have if I don’t earn it on my own?”

There was that integrity again. Damn, it was attractive. He was starting to think he’d want to marry this woman even without needing her father’s company.

But his father’s will—and it not leaving him a clear majority of stock—was still a factor. He needed to buy Ian Ashley’s company and gain control of his board of directors. And he needed to marry Macy to buy it. He’d thought for a moment he’d found a way to entice her into the arrangement.

He’d just have to keep looking.

Three quick taps sounded on the door. The signal from the security that all was clear and a car was waiting for them.

If only his marriage was as easy to arrange as fixing this paparazzi situation had been. But his plans for this afternoon and tonight should change her mind.

Six

They’d barely been in the limousine five minutes when Macy felt it slow to a stop. The security had called the limo back early and had been waiting to bundle them inside once the coast was clear. They now followed close behind. She checked out the window and saw the wide Opera House steps beneath its distinctive sails. “This is the wrong direction. The hotel’s back in the city.”

Ryder nodded to the driver and opened his door as he said over his shoulder. “There’s something I want to do first.”

She waited until he appeared to open her door, but didn’t get out. “We have nothing on the schedule.”

“This is a personal detour,” he said as he offered her his hand.

Macy had never been a fan of detours from a set plan. Order and organization were the things that kept business and the world—including her life—operating smoothly. But this was Ryder’s business, therefore his call, so she took his hand and stepped from the limo.

Despite her ambivalence, one thing he’d said intrigued her. “Personal?”

He slipped his sunglasses from his jacket pocket, put them on and took in the expansive view. “I’ve never been to Sydney. My one previous Australian trip was also to Melbourne. There’s something I’d like to see while I’m here.”

Macy folded her arms under her breasts and studied his face. It didn’t seem right—The Machine taking time out for sightseeing. She was sure his American staff would never believe her if she repeated the story.

She found her own sunglasses in her bag and slid them on. “I wouldn’t have picked you for the tourist type.”

He raised one eyebrow. “You weren’t listening to my holiday description on the plane?”

She felt the heat rise up her chest and throat and turned away to the sails of the Opera House to obscure his view of her embarrassment. Except this wasn’t simply embarrassment, the heat flowed through her veins to every square inch of skin. Her body was responding to the mere suggestion of his kiss, whether she wanted it to or not. And she hated that loss of control.

She tilted her chin up. “Ryder, I—”

“Before you say anything,” he smoothly interjected, “I’ll show you what I have in mind.” He slipped an arm around her waist and gestured to the thirty-foot cruiser waiting at the jetty.

It was beautiful—large, sleek and white; its proud elegance easily outstripped the craft around it. But she’d be trapped alone with Ryder. Again. At the mercy of her own flawed ability to resist him. Again. The sweet pull of the heavenly and the allure of the dangerous had never been so strongly interlaced.

She took a small but symbolic step back from his arm. “I’m not sure we have time for a cruise. I have a lot of work to do at the hotel.”

He dropped the arm she’d evaded and—seemingly unconcerned by her reluctance—dug both hands into his trouser pockets. “You have to eat, and lunch has been prepared for us on board. Think of it as your lunch break.”