by Lucy King
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ she began, smiling broadly and waiting until every drop of focus was on her. ‘Rockets… Catherine wheels… Sparklers… And now handbags.’ She paused. ‘I think you’ll all agree that our grand pyrotechnical finale was much more original than a firework display. A little earlier than planned, perhaps, but no less spectacular.’
Alex’s jaw tightened. Hah. She was doomed. As if anyone was going to believe a story as ridiculous as that. With one ear on the rest of her speech, which continued in the same dubious vein, he surveyed the room with a sceptical eye. She’d never pull this off.
He was just beginning to congratulate himself on having saved Jo from a terrible career move, when to his utter amazement people began to smile and nod and whisper to each other. Surely people couldn’t actually be buying her absurd explanation?
‘And as that rounds off the evening’s events,’ Phoebe said finally, ‘I’d like to thank you all for coming, and hope you enjoy the upcoming launch of the debut collection of the fabulous Jo Douglas.’
Jo stepped up to her side and gave a little curtsey. Phoebe started clapping and as everyone else joined in the sound grew into a thunderous applause. The pair of them stepped off the dais, basking in glory, and Alex watched through narrowed eyes as a woman in purple cornered Phoebe and a crowd of people flocked around Jo.
OK, so that was a clever wiggle, he grudgingly admitted, still slightly stunned by the fact that everyone had apparently bought into her explanation. Her timing was impeccable, her imagination was extraordinary and she’d had her audience eating out of her hand.
Maybe Phoebe wasn’t as incapable as he’d originally thought, but that was tough. To his mind she was an enigma and that made her a liability. And what did Jo really know about her anyway? He’d bet everything he had that she hadn’t delved that far into her background and her experience, and had made little effort to see whether she was trustworthy. So it was lucky he’d shown up when he did.
Gradually the guests drifted off and Jo bounded over to him, grinning like a lunatic. ‘You see,’ she said triumphantly. ‘I told you Phoebe’d fix it. Isn’t she amazing?’
Alex grimaced. Amazing wasn’t quite the word he’d use to describe her. Beautiful. That was a good one. Sexy as hell. With a mouth that had been made for kissing and a body that seemed to have been created specially to fit to his.
The kiss they’d shared beneath the pergola slammed into his head and a savage kick of lust thumped him in the gut.
Damn. Burying his attraction to her was going to take far more effort than he’d thought. Still, once he’d got rid of her, desire would fade and in future he’d steer well clear of women who obliterated his self-control and drove him mindless with just a kiss.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were planning to hire someone to do your PR?’ he said mildly, his voice betraying nothing of the battle raging inside him.
‘Because I knew you wouldn’t have approved.’
‘You’re right. I don’t. I want you to use my PR people.’
Jo sighed. ‘You see. This is why I didn’t want you here. I knew you were going to do this. Alex, I don’t want to use your people.’
‘Why not? My team are tried and tested. Reliable.’ At least as reliable as anyone other than himself could be.
Jo’s expression turn mutinous and Alex wondered where this backbone of steel had sprung from. ‘Your team might be excellent at dealing with finance and inventions and things, but they wouldn’t know one end of a handbag from the other.’ Alex felt his jaw tighten. That might be true, but they could learn. ‘Phoebe handled the account of a graduate from my college a few years ago when she was working at one of the big PR agencies. Maria now works in Paris for one of the top fashion houses. Phoebe has incredible contacts and, well, you can see for yourself what she’s achieved this evening.’
Alex let out a short burst of incredulous laughter. As far as he could tell, all she’d achieved was a series of disasters.
Jo shifted her weight from one foot to the other, but didn’t look as if she intended to back down. ‘OK, so I admit that my handbags on fire wasn’t exactly in the plans, but would your PR team have come up with such a spectacular excuse?’
Probably not, but that wasn’t the point. ‘My PR team would never have let it happen in the first place.’
‘Phoebe didn’t “let” it happen. It was an accident. Not even you can turn it into her fault.’
Hmm. Pity. The implication of her words sank in and Alex winced. He wasn’t that unreasonable. If he did come over as heavy-handed occasionally it was only for Jo’s benefit. But his sister clearly didn’t see it like that. In her eyes Phoebe could do little wrong. Knowing which battles to fight if he wanted to win, Alex decided to switch tactics. ‘How well do you know her?’
‘Pretty well. I’ve been working with her for two months.’
Two months was nothing. He’d known Rob for ten years and it hadn’t stopped his best friend betraying him. ‘And how do you know she won’t drop you the moment someone with better prospects comes along?’
Jo sighed. ‘At the moment I’m her only client. She needs me as much as I need her so I think that makes her pretty trustworthy, don’t you?’ She pushed a lock of hair off her face and fixed him with a stare. ‘Look, Alex. I know I’ve been a nightmare and have given you untold cause for worry. And you’ll never know how grateful I am for all the help and support you’ve given me but I really need to start taking responsibility for my own life. Mistakes and all. You can’t keep protecting me for ever.’
Couldn’t he? He’d been doing exactly that ever since her parents died and he didn’t intend to stop now. Especially after the hideous events of five years ago when he’d screwed up so spectacularly. A familiar wave of guilt washed over him and his chest tightened. He didn’t intend to screw up again.
‘Alex, I really want this. Phoebe and I work well together. She understands what I need. Please don’t mess this up for me.’
The quiet pleading in her voice cut right through him and Alex felt his resolve waver. He ran his gaze over her and looked at her properly for the first time this evening. She’d changed in the two months since he’d last seen her. She seemed more confident, more determined, healthier. More like the girl she’d been before she’d met Rob.
Alex sighed and felt his control over her well-being begin to slip away. As harrowing as the prospect of letting Jo find her own way in the world was, maybe she was right. She was twenty-two. He couldn’t protect her for ever. Maybe it was time he loosened the reins. A little. But if either of them thought he’d just sit back and hope for the best, they could think again.
CHAPTER FOUR
BY ELEVEN O’CLOCK the following morning Phoebe had spent three hours at her desk, poring over the press, answering calls from potential clients and trying not to wonder where Alex had disappeared to the night before.
Maybe he’d had a date. Maybe he’d succumbed to jet lag and had crashed out in a flowerbed. Maybe he’d been appalled by the haphazard way the party had panned out and left in disgust.
Who knew? Jo certainly hadn’t. And Phoebe really oughtn’t to care either way; as a silent partner he was unlikely to be popping up all the time, and as her client’s brother—and therefore strictly off limits—he could date whoever and pass out wherever he chose. Not that he’d ever been on limits, of course.
But to her intense irritation she did care. Because regardless of where Alex had physically got to last night, he was now lodged in her head and she was going slowly out of her mind.
Her memory had become photographic where Alex was concerned. Every detail of his dark handsome face, every inch of his incredible body was as clear as if he were standing in front of her and she just couldn’t get rid of the image, no matter how hard she tried.
Phoebe pinched the bridge of her nose and screwed her eyes up. He had no right invading her thoughts like this. It was bad enough that he’d barged into her dreams and had proceeded to do
all sorts of deliciously erotic things to her that had woken her up hot and sweating and pulsating with need.
Sleep had whisked her back to the pergola, where he’d kissed her over and over again until she’d been panting and whimpering. Only this time, nothing had interrupted them and Alex had slid down the zip of her dress and peeled it off her and then his hands had stroked over her skin, before pulling her down with him onto the cushions and—
Agh. Phoebe jumped to her feet, utterly disgusted with her lack of control over something so primitive, and marched into the kitchen.
She needed a cup of coffee. So what if she’d already had five? Number six would sort her out. It had to. Otherwise she’d never last the morning.
The phone rang just as she was pouring water into the cafetiere. Her hand jerked and boiling water splashed her skin.
Phoebe howled in pain and frustration. This edginess was so unlike her. Whenever stress threatened to wipe her out, all she usually had to do was take a series of deep breaths and channel the serenity of her office. But today those yoga techniques, the acres of bare white walls and the ordered tranquillity of her surroundings weren’t working.
Scowling and rubbing her hand, Phoebe inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and forced herself to pick up the phone slowly and calmly. ‘Hello?’ Good. Pleasant and polite. That didn’t sound bad.
‘Phoebs, I have an Alex Gilbert in Reception.’
Phoebe dropped the phone and watched helplessly as it bounced twice and then skidded across the floor-boards. So much for inner calm.
What was he doing here? Had her fevered imagination actually conjured him up? What did he want?
‘Phoebs? Are you there?’
Oh, to be able to yell ‘no!’ and go and hide under her desk. But the opportunity to imitate her answer machine and pretend she was out had long gone. ‘Just a moment,’ she called and dashed across the floor to where her phone lay.
Phoebe picked up the handset. Then she straightened her suit and smoothed her hair and dredged up every ounce of self-possession she had. ‘Thanks, Lizzie,’ she said serenely. ‘You’d better tell him to come up.’
All she had to do was remain steady and in control and everything would be fine.
Alex glanced around Phoebe’s office and felt like fishing out his sunglasses. Apart from the woman in the severe black trouser suit perched against the edge of the sparkling glass desk and a few certificates and pictures hanging on the walls everything was blindingly white.
‘Good morning, Alex.’
She looked so composed with her poker straight hair and aloof air that for an insane moment he wanted to ruffle her up. ‘Good morning, Phoebe.’
‘Coffee?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Did you have a pleasant evening?’
‘Delightful.’ And busy. Once he’d reluctantly given in to Jo, he’d gone back to his apartment, had formulated a plan and had wasted no time in setting the wheels in motion.
‘I’m so glad.’ She gave him a chilly smile and moved round to the other side of her desk. She gestured to the chair on his side. ‘Please. Do sit down.’
‘Thank you.’ Alex folded himself onto the perspex chair and sat back.
‘How’s the jet lag?’
‘Fine.’
‘Shredded any cheques?’
Alex grinned. ‘Not so far. How are the handbags?’
‘Ruined beyond repair.’
‘Whose idea was it to put them so close to the lights?’
‘That would be mine.’
‘Clever.’
She flinched and her eyes flashed. Perhaps she wasn’t so composed after all, Alex thought with an odd sense of reassurance. After the heat and passion of last night, this morning’s ultra-cool Phoebe had been faintly unnerving.
‘I was led to believe that everything would be fine. The three risk assessments I carried out back me up. You can have a look at them if you’d like.’
Alex ignored her sarcasm. ‘Any idea what happened?’
‘According to the manager, someone had installed the wrong kind of light bulbs, and according to Jo she used highly flammable glue as a sort of quick fix in order to get some samples finished for last night. Normally she stitches everything by hand. A most unfortunate coincidence.’
‘So it would seem.’
‘Still, it wasn’t all bad. Self-igniting accessories are apparently tipped to be the latest craze.’
‘Extraordinary.’
Phoebe shrugged. ‘Anything’s possible in PR.’ She picked up a pen and pulled a notepad towards her. ‘Anyway,’ she said with a bright smile that didn’t reach her eyes, ‘what do you want?’
Alex stretched his legs out and regarded her carefully. ‘I have a proposition for you.’
That surprised her. ‘Oh?’
‘I’m hosting a party tomorrow night for colleagues and clients and a few friends. I want you to be there.’
Curiosity cracked the glacial façade. ‘In what capacity?’
‘I want you to raise money for one of the charities I support.’
Phoebe’s eyes narrowed. ‘That’s not really what I do.’
He knew that, and that was the beauty of his test. ‘Don’t you want the business?’ he said shooting her a shrewd glance.
Phoebe frowned. ‘Naturally your offer is intriguing, but isn’t raising money at a private party a little inappropriate?’
‘Highly. There lies the challenge.’
‘But why would you want to offer me a challenge?’
Alex regarded her thoughtfully for a while. ‘Would you like to know the real reason I was at the party last night?’
Phoebe tensed. ‘I’d be fascinated.’
‘I came to fire you,’ he said lazily.
Outside, traffic rumbled. Horns beeped. People shouted. But inside her office heavy silence descended.
Phoebe blinked and stared at him in disbelief. ‘You know, for a moment there I thought you’d said you’d come to fire me.’
‘I did.’
Phoebe went white for a second and then that brittle little smile snapped back to her face and Alex was struck by a sudden uncontrollable urge to wipe it away with a kiss. ‘That’s insane. I don’t work for you so how can you fire me?’
He ignored the urge and kept his gaze well away from her mouth. ‘I own sixty per cent of Jo’s company. I can do whatever I like.’
Phoebe glowered. ‘I thought you were supposed to be a silent partner.’
‘I was.’
‘Your particular brand of silence is deafening.’ She paused and total bafflement swept across her face. ‘Why would you want to fire me?’ Then she frowned. ‘Is this about the kiss?’
Alex started. ‘Why would this be about the kiss?’
‘Well, some might say there was a conflict of interest,’ she muttered, taking an intense interest in the papers on her desk as her cheeks went pink.
‘I didn’t know who you were. Did you know who I was?’
‘No. Jo barely mentioned you, and then never by name.’
‘There’d only be a conflict of interest were I to kiss you now.’
Her head snapped up and the colour on her cheeks deepened. ‘Er, quite.’
‘And that’s not going to happen.’
‘Good,’ she said sharply, as if she was trying to convince herself as much as him. ‘Excellent.’
Was that disappointment that flared in her eyes? Alex shifted in the chair. ‘So in answer to your question, no, my decision to fire you had nothing to do with the kiss.’
‘What did it have to do with, then?’
‘Your competency.’
Phoebe reeled. Her competency? What on earth was going on?
When Alex had informed her that he’d intended to fire her as casually as if they’d been discussing the weather, she’d thought that nothing more he said could shock her.
She’d been wrong.
‘My competency?’ He nodded. ‘What about it?’
‘Bas
ed on the…unusual…events of last night, I’m not convinced you’re the best person to represent Jo.’
Phoebe gasped. The arrogance of the man. How dared he question her competency when he knew next to nothing about her? ‘That’s absurd.’
‘Is it?’ he said in that lazy drawl that made her want to thump him.
‘Were you not there last night? Did you not see how I turned a fiasco into a triumph?’ Phoebe glared at him, all hope of remaining polite and pleasant a dim and distant memory. ‘Last night’s party resulted in thirty column inches across six newspapers and four requests for interviews with Jo. Three magazines are going to run features on her and her handbags and the party will appear on the society pages in all of them. This morning I had a call from one of the major high street stores who want her to design a range of accessories for them.’
Phoebe got to her feet, as if standing would somehow stop her anger from brimming over and making her say something she might really regret. ‘How, exactly, is that incompetent?’
Alex didn’t answer. He merely raised an eyebrow and it shot her anger into incandescence. ‘I’m very good at my job, Alex. I have ten years of experience. I’ve handled million-pound accounts and I’ve launched products that have turned into best-sellers. I’m also brilliant at breaking up rowing journalists at press conferences, evading difficult questions and managing crises. Winning over disapproving brothers is a new one for me, but I will get there in the end.’ She paused and gave him an icy smile. ‘I’ve been working with Jo for weeks and we make a great team. She has extraordinary potential and a great career ahead of her. Her launch is in a fortnight and all the plans are in place. I will not let you ruin this for her.’
Long seconds passed before Alex spoke and when he did his voice froze her blood. ‘Why don’t you tell me about the parts of your career that haven’t, I presume, gone quite according to plan?’
The parts of her career that hadn’t gone according to plan? His words whipped the wind from her sails and she dragged in a shaky breath. What parts? There weren’t any. At least none that he could possibly know about… ‘What do you mean?’ she hedged, sitting back down and filling with trepidation.
