Heat Me Up

by Julie Kenner

  ‘It—It’s all there…on my website.’ Babbling. A successful twenty-five-year-old businesswoman with a master’s degree in marketing was babbling.

  He didn’t once glance at the card, which was still tumbling lazily between his long, tanned fingers. ‘I’d really like your personal input. You’ve done wonders for Kids Count.’

  Why would her work for a small US charity interest him? Although it had landed her a prestigious industry award.

  His lips caressed his wine glass, his eyes watching her over the rim. ‘I’m involved with a charity, too.’

  He tucked the card into the inside pocket of his jacket, close to his chest.

  The gesture, strangely intimate, made heat pool low in her belly. She definitely needed to get laid.

  Tonight.

  ‘I’m willing to pay.’

  His talk of payment sealed the deal. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Heralding from one of the UK’s most affluent families, and growing up in the family business, he had founded his first company on a ten thousand pound loan from his businessman father.

  Well, some things weren’t for sale.

  No doubt he was used to getting everything he wanted. Calling the shots. Bossing people around. Well, not this chick.

  Liar. He could boss her around in the bedroom any time.

  ‘I’d be happy to connect you with Sonya, my top marketing executive and business partner—although she’s soon to go on maternity leave so I suggest you get in quick.’

  No way could she work personally with this man. Not after a simple glance across a room and a professional, perfectly polite handshake had triggered a full-blown hormone implosion. Images of them tangled in the crisp white sheets of her king-sized hotel bed rocked her back on her heels. Would he be as demanding in the bedroom? And would she concede, give him what he wanted? She could make a few sexual demands of her own…

  The tip of his tongue traced along his lower lip—a snake-charming manoeuvre that held her gaze captive for long, silent seconds. She shook her head, dragging her eyes away.

  Her libidinous thoughts stunned her. Perhaps he’d doused himself in genetically modified pheromones?

  Time to get away from him and his unsettling magnetism.

  ‘Nice to meet you.’ Libby abandoned polite convention and kept her hand by her side. Best not to touch him again in case she needed to rush to the bathroom and put herself out of her own misery.

  As if he knew her thoughts, he let a half-grin dance on his twisted mouth. His chin lifted, lazy eyes raking her. ‘The pleasure was all mine, Olivia.’

  He delivered her name with a cut-crystal English accent and a side helping of gravel that spoke directly to all her wide awake lady parts.

  * * *

  Libby winced, wishing her laptop’s webcam would explode.

  ‘You said what? Are you crazy?’ Sonya rubbed her rounded belly, twisting on the sofa and putting her feet up on the low coffee table in Libby’s New York office.

  This video call and the five-hour time difference between New York and London meant her right-hand woman was taking her lunch break, relaxing on Libby’s sofa. Apparently it was more comfortable than the sofa in Sonya’s office—although Libby suspected her friend just missed having her to bounce ideas off. They were a great team. More than that.

  Sonya’s face filled the screen as she leaned forward, peering through cyberspace. ‘I can’t possibly do that account justice in the time I have left.’ She flopped back on the cushions, as if the act of merely speaking exhausted her. ‘Why would you even suggest me? He clearly wants you. And you’re there, on the ground.’

  Sonya took a bite from her sandwich and shoved another cushion into the small of her back.

  They usually ate lunch together on days when they were both in the office, discussing accounts and synching their diaries. Today, for some inexplicable reason—she blamed jet-lag—Libby had shared the details of her meeting with Alex Lancaster and now was paying the price.

  ‘He’s arrogant—and surprisingly rude for an Englishman.’

  And sexy as fuck, with dreamy eyes, and an edge that made her want to defy him to see what happened…

  ‘Throwing his money around.’

  And looking at her as if she was a medium rare steak and he’d been living off beans for months.

  Right, and she hadn’t objectified him at all? His tight ass in his perfectly tailored trousers? No? Her gaze hadn’t once dipped to the bulge at his crotch, wondering what lay beneath the fine fabric?

  Of course she couldn’t tell Sonya about her body’s insane, treacherous reaction to him. Sonya had known Callum. She’d simply read something into her meeting with Alex Lancaster that simply hadn’t been there. And she definitely couldn’t confide her surprising fantasies to her bestie. She barely knew where they’d come from herself. No. It was just unfortunate timing.

  Four years without sex really was too long. She hated to concede it, but her assistant Vinnie was right.

  ‘So?’ Her friend waggled a finger at the camera. ‘It’s business. This account and his contacts could help us expand into Europe, Asia—the world.’

  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 paid 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 tou
rist 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 felt her neck burn, just knowing that Sonya and Vinnie were listening from the laptop beside her. They’d worked and played alongside her for the last five years, seeing her at her best and at her worst. Although the ‘play’ had been virtually non-existent 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 was deep and authoritative, in 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 itch to twisting 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 had 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 special 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 needs. 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 bus
iness.

  ‘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. She saw an image of him naked and sprawled there, telling her what he wanted with that upper crust voice of his. 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 may 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.