Dark Alpha (ALPHA 2)

by Carole Mortimer

  The tiny redhead and her tall friend had taken their seats now, way at the back of the auditorium, the blonde still chattering non-stop, the redhead’s gaze still riveted on him. And, unless he was mistaken, touched with more than a little apprehension.

  Of him?

  Or more likely what, if anything, he might say to Adam Grant about her?

  Lucien may be more than a little irritated at the things he had overheard earlier, and guard his privacy to the point of obsession, but even so he had never asked anyone else to fight his personal battles for him. Why should he, when he was perfectly capable of fighting them himself?

  And where the wild-haired redhead was concerned, a little revenge might even be sweet...

  Oh god, oh god, oh god.

  The same wild litany kept going desperately around inside Nicky’s head as she stared down at the podium at the man she was now sure had to be Lucien Wynter.

  Had he overheard her and Chrissie’s conversation in the coffee shop earlier?

  Those awful things Chrissie had said about Lucien Wynter? That stupid conversation about Nicky finding herself a rich old man to pay off her debts?

  How could he not have heard, when Chrissie had made no attempt to lower her voice?

  “Wow, I take back all that I said earlier—even I can appreciate that is one fine man,” Chrissie murmured softly. “Why do you suppose a man who looks like that would want to hide himself away?”

  Nicky knew absolutely nothing about Lucien Wynter’s private life. No one did. Even the financial pages of the newspapers only ever reported on his business acquisitions, never his personal life.

  Now that she had seen him for herself, Nicky couldn’t help wondering why that was.

  The man was more handsome than any movie star she had ever seen, utterly charismatic, and those rapier sharp eyes were beautiful, so why had the newspapers and media, who felt absolutely no shame in hounding other less photogenic personalities, decided to leave him alone?

  Unless he happened to own those media outlets, of course? Which, considering his wealth, was a distinct possibility, Nicky recognized ruefully.

  There was no doubting he was ‘one fine man’, as Chrissie had commented, but anyone looking into the depths of his hard and challenging eyes couldn’t help but also see the coldness, the icy ruthlessness, that bordered almost on cruelty.

  As Nicky was now doing...?

  The only way she could possibly be seeing into the depths of those cold eyes was if Lucien Wynter was also looking up at her.

  Which he was. Straight at her. One dark eyebrow raised in mocking challenge.

  Because he had overheard that conversation earlier? Because he now recognized her as being one of the two women having that conversation?

  Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe how Nicky felt as she had to wrench her gaze away from that mocking green one.

  She determined not to look at him again. Professor Grant stepped up to the microphone to insist there would be absolutely no photographs taken of their guest before then introducing the younger man.

  The lecture passed in a state of misery as far as Nicky was concerned. Not even the deep melodiousness of Lucien Wynter’s educated voice managed to penetrate her misery. All she wanted was for this nightmare to be over with so that she could get out of here and never set eyes on Lucien Wynter again.

  She almost made it too. Would have managed to sneak safely past the podium, shielded by the groupies currently gathered about the guest speaker who was under the watchful gaze of the scarred man in black, if it weren’t for Professor Grant calling out to her just as she was about to make her escape.

  Even then Nicky might have tried pretending she hadn’t heard him—if another more commanding voice hadn’t stopped her in her tracks.

  The same rich and melodious voice that had held her, and everyone else in the lecture hall, totally mesmerized for the past hour...

  Chapter 2

  “A word, if you please, Miss McKenzie,” Lucien loudly repeated his request as the redhead, after freezing in her tracks for several seconds, now looked set to make a run for it.

  Her face was pale as she slowly turned and walked towards him with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner approaching the gallows.

  She was even shorter than Lucien had realized, barely reaching his shoulder, those red corkscrew curls a wild tumble over her shoulders and down her back. She was dressed in the usual student garb: a faded green T-shirt that fitted snugly over the surprising fullness of her breasts, ragged jeans tight against slender hips and legs.

  But it was her mouth that completely held his attention. He had never seen lips quite like them before, so full and pouting, and shaped in a perfect bow, the top lip fuller than the bottom.

  As an indication of her sensuality?

  Lucien was more than a little surprised to feel himself harden and swell, as he had a sudden image of those plump lips parting over his cock as she took him deep into the warmth of her mouth and then to the back of her throat, those corkscrew curls entwining erotically with the darker curls at his groin.

  The image was so strong that for a moment his mind went completely blank of everything else.

  “You wanted to speak to me, Mr. Wynter?” The young woman, who he now knew to be called Nicky McKenzie, tried her best to look composed and only mildly curious, but Lucien could hear the underlying strain in the husky attractiveness of her voice.

  A husky, soft voice that only made his cock throb all the harder, damn it.

  He nodded coolly. “Adam tells me that you’re currently his star student?”

  A blush now colored those creamy cheeks. “Oh I wouldn’t go so far as to say that!”

  “You didn’t, Adam did,” Lucien drawled tightly as his groin hardened even more when he spotted an enticing—and delicious—mole just beneath her right earlobe. “You have what, another six months before you finish your degree?”

  A frown appeared between her eyes as she answered him uncertainly. “Yes...”

  Lucien could never remember having had quite such an instant and visceral reaction to any woman before today.

  His only reason for talking to her had been to exact a little revenge for the conversation he had overheard earlier, but his libido obviously had a much deeper, and different, need.

  Lucien took out his wallet and removed a card, using his pen to write something on the back before holding it out to her. “Give me a call when you graduate. I might be able to offer you a job.”

  “I—thank you.” She took the card, her slightly trembling hands as slender as the rest of her; she was surely going to need to use both of them to wrap around his cock.

  Lucien smiled as he noticed the care she had taken not to allow her fingers to come into contact with his. Because she also felt the attraction between the two of them? He hoped so, for her sake. He really wasn’t used to denying himself something he wanted. And right now he knew what he wanted was Nicky McKenzie. Quite badly.

  “No problem.” He nodded dismissively before turning away to take his leave of Adam Grant; he had deliberately ignored Dair’s scowl of disapproval as his cousin listened to the exchange between Lucien and the unusual and beautiful Nicky McKenzie.

  No doubt Dair was already marking Lucien’s interest in a university student as being a security nightmare.

  He might be right.

  But Lucien wanted her anyway.

  Nicky stood frozen to the spot for several seconds after she knew she had been summarily dismissed, hardly able to believe the conversation that had just taken place.

  Had Lucien Wynter really just offered her a job when she finished university? Well, the chance of a job, anyway. It didn’t seem possible, after the way he had been scowling at her earlier—

  Nicky’s breath caught in her throat, the noisy chatter around her fading completely into the background, as she looked down and saw what Lucien Wynter had written on the back of the card.

  It was only three words—well, two
words and a time if she was going to be entirely accurate. And she had a feeling Lucien Wynter made a point of always being that.

  Petruccio’s, 8:00, tonight.

  The rest of the day passed in something of a daze for Nicky, as she decided, several times, that she wasn’t going to have dinner with Lucien Wynter that evening.

  After which she would tell herself not to be so stupid, that the man was too rich and powerful for her to just ignore him, that she had no choice but to go. And dinner in a crowded, if exclusive, restaurant like Petruccio’s would be safe enough, surely?

  Safe?

  Well—yes, because Lucien Wynter himself was dangerous on so many levels.

  Not the least because he appeared to be a personal friend of the university professor in charge of her course.

  At worst because he made Nicky’s knees go weak every time she looked at him...

  Even so, she still couldn’t insult the man by just ignoring his dinner invitation. For all she knew, Lucien Wynter simply wanted to have a more in-depth discussion about this job he might offer her in six months time.

  And Nicky had stopped believing in the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny years ago, along with a lot of other fairy-tales, like living happily ever after. During the past five years, staying alive at all had seemed like asking too much some days.

  And a man like Lucien Wynter wouldn’t have invited a woman out to dinner just because he thought she might be a future employee. Nicky very much doubted he usually bothered to so much as introduce himself to the people who worked for him, let alone take them out to dinner.

  So why had he invited her out?

  Then again, he hadn’t exactly invited her, now had he; writing down instructions for when he expected the two of them to meet again, on the back of a business card, wasn’t exactly an invitation. It was more of an order.

  Maybe, but she would still have to go, daren’t do anything else, under the circumstances...

  The decision made, albeit reluctantly, Nicky then ended up changing her clothes a dozen times or more before finally settling on a simple black, knee-length sheath dress, her makeup light, her hair its usual riot of curls.

  Consequently she was a hot and nervous wreck by the time she arrived at Petruccio’s, only for the evening to go even more downhill when she walked into the exclusive, booked-months-in-advance restaurant to find it was completely empty.

  Well...not completely; the manager and a man discretely playing the piano were present in the elegant Regency-style and candlelit room.

  But every single one of the tables, beautifully set with crystal glasses and gleaming silver flatware, was completely empty of diners.

  Including Lucien Wynter.

  Had he been playing some sort of sick joke on her, and invited her to this restaurant on an evening when he knew it was closed to the public? Was it his way of deliberately humiliating her, as payback for the conversation he had overheard between her and Chrissie in the coffee shop earlier today?

  What an utter and complete bastard—

  She stiffened as she felt a hand slide beneath her arm to cup the bareness of her elbow, her breath catching somewhere in her throat as she turned slowly and saw that Lucien Wynter was now standing beside her.

  Looking devastatingly attractive in black evening clothes, his dark hair once again in that messy style that looked as if another woman had just been running her fingers through it as he thrust inside her—

  “My usual table, Marco?” Lucien didn’t so much as glance in Nicky McKenzie’s direction as he spoke to the manager of the restaurant.

  He had already taken in and approved of her appearance before she’d even noticed he was here. He liked the way the figure-hugging black dress clung to her sexy curves, and the bareness of her legs was even more spectacular than he had hoped for. As for those red curls... Lucien just wanted to entangle his fingers in them to hold her in place while he devoured those pouting lips.

  “But of course, Mr. Wynter.” The swarthy-faced man bowed obsequiously.

  “A bottle of the usual champagne, thanks, Marco,” Lucien requested distractedly, still looking at Nicky.

  Marco smiled. “Already chilling at your table, Mr. Wynter.”

  Lucien nodded his satisfaction. “Give us a couple of minutes, okay, Marco?”

  It took Nicky several seconds to find her voice as she was guided across the restaurant at Lucien’s side. “Where are the other—”

  “Sit down.” He indicated the secluded booth at the back of the restaurant, several potted ferns placed close to allow for even more privacy.

  Nicky sat, too bemused at the moment to take umbrage at his dictatorial tone. “Why are there no other people dining here?” she hissed softly the moment he slid into the curved and plush bench seat beside her.

  “There’s no need to whisper,” Lucien spoke normally as he placed a napkin across her knees before doing the same with his own. “No one is listening to our conversation.”

  “That’s because there’s no one else here to listen!” she pointed out exasperatedly.

  Lucien turned slightly on the bench seat to look at her with cool eyes. “Marco is the manager here, and he knows how much I value my privacy.”

  “Well I already knew that… My God, are you saying there are no other people here because you’ve taken over the whole restaurant for the evening?” Nicky questioned dazedly.

  He shrugged. “It’s one way of ensuring complete privacy.”

  Her eyes were wide. “But you have other ways too?”

  His mouth tightened. “Many of them, yes. Thank you, Marco, you can just pour it.” He nodded to the other man after he had removed the cork from the bottle of champagne. He waited until the other man had poured some of the beautiful pink liquid into two fluted glasses, and then departed, before speaking again. “I ordered our food when I booked the table earlier. I hope you like oysters and fois gras? I find that champagne goes with both.”

  Nicky was still reeling from learning Lucien had taken over the whole restaurant. The whole restaurant, for goodness sake. Who did that? Well...obviously Lucien Wynter did. But it was ridiculous. Obsessive, even.

  “Nicky?” He arched one dark brow as he turned even further on the seat towards her, the warm and hard length of his thigh now resting alongside her own.

  “I—you—oysters and fois gras sound fine.” Not that Nicky had ever eaten either of them, but hey, she was here with Lucien Wynter, and ‘when in Rome’... She took a sip of the champagne. Hmm, it really was delicious. “Look, Lu—I don’t even know what to call you?” She frowned. “Do you prefer Lucien? Or maybe Luc? Luke? Lukie?” she added facetiously; her nerves were totally shot at finding herself alone in this exclusive restaurant with this devastatingly attractive man. “What do your friends call you?”

  He looked down the length of his nose at her. “I have competitors, business acquaintances, and women I fuck; I don’t have friends.”

  “You said that last one to shock me!” she protested irritably.

  “And I succeeded,” he came back mockingly.

  Yes, he had. And Nicky also realized which category that put her in. Bastard. “Why don’t you have friends?”

  He shrugged. “They tend to ask too many questions.”

  As she was currently doing. And Lucien wasn’t answering any of them, Nicky acknowledged with frustration. “How can anyone get to know you if they don’t ask you questions?”

  “I don’t want anyone to know me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Knowledge is power.”

  Nicky was shocked into stillness, her lips going suddenly dry. “What...?”

  “Knowledge is power.” Lucien shrugged. “And if anyone is going to have the power, then it will be me,” he added softly.

  Nicky had gone ice-cold inside. Knowledge was power, damn it, as she knew only too well. Just as she knew the whole of Nicky McKenzie’s existence was a lie. Because the truth could get her killed.

  She moistene
d her lips with the tip of her tongue. “That’s a...a very jaded attitude.”

  “It’s a safe one,” Lucien dismissed, as he now studied Nicky beneath hooded lids.

  He hadn’t even been sure she would come to the restaurant at all after the way they had parted this afternoon, but he was glad that she had. She was a natural beauty. As far as he could tell, the only makeup Nicky wore this evening was a deep red gloss that emphasized the pouting fullness of her lips.

  Yes, Nicky certainly looked very beautiful and desirable this evening.

  Lucien had the same certainty that she had tensed after his last comment... “What secrets do you have, Nicky?”

  She gave a dismissive shake of her head. “I like to spend hours soaking in a bubble bath?”

  He nodded. “And...?”

  She took another sip of her champagne before answering him. “I’m a chocoholic.”

  His mouth tightened. “Stop playing games, Nicky.”

  “But I thought you liked to play games, Lucien? Mind games,” she added disgustedly. “In which there can be only one winner, of course.”

  “Me.”

  “You.”

  Lucien reached out and lifted the heart-shaped gold locket she wore on a chain about the slenderness of her throat; her only jewelry. “From a boyfriend?” He turned the locket over, expecting to find an inscription on the back, but instead finding two rows of numbers, one that looked as if it might be Nicky’s birthday, the other—

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.” She moved back, effectively pulling the locket from his hand so that it fell back between her breasts. “I would hardly be here with you this evening if I did.”

  “He might be more than happy with the arrangement.” Lucien shrugged, knowing he should have thought to ask about a boyfriend earlier.

  “There is no ‘he’.” She put her glass down firmly on the table. “I’m not sure I like you very much, Mr. Wynter.”