by Dani Collins
Clare had blushed then. “How about you make it up to me for mocking my award?”
He’d finished his drink and turned to her. Shining the full blast of his attention on her. That gaze of his had turned perceptive and thoughtful. Less roguish and more...curious. Even admiring in a way that had sent tingles up and down her skin. “I don’t remember your firm’s name. But I did hear the emcee say you’re a self-starter. A woman who forged her own path, despite an initial struggle. No one can take that away from you, can they?”
She’d been absolutely glowing by then. Inside and out. “No, they can’t. As a self-starter yourself, you also know then that we have to milk every opportunity to the max. As I know who you are, but you don’t have a clue about me, I have the upper hand between the two of us, right now.”
“You’re bloodthirsty,” he said, leaning closer.
“Does that scare you?” she said, raising a brow, feeling a thrill she’d never known.
Another heart-stopping smile. “On the contrary, I have a weakness for a bloodthirsty woman who goes after what she wants.”
“So?”
“So, your wish is my command, my lady,” he’d said finally.
“Dance with me,” she’d said boldly.
To her eternal delight, he’d taken her hand in his and led them to the dance floor. He’d asked her about the initiative that had garnered her the award. Her views on women in high positions and the obstacles they faced in a company’s hierarchy.
With his arm warm and solid around her, his questions peppered with real interest, Clare had never felt so wanted. So...seen for herself.
A successful, moderately attractive woman who could hold her own with a brilliant, self-made entrepreneur. A man who could laugh at himself. A man who could admit he was wrong, apparently.
High on her success, determined to see if the attraction she felt was more than one-sided, Clare had wrapped her arms around his nape. And then she’d asked him directly, the words coming out of her mouth as if the torrent of desire couldn’t be denied.
“Are you interested in taking this further?” She’d been so forthright, so honest.
His fingers had tightened on her waist, just a fraction. Sending an arrow of pleasure straight down to her belly. “How much further, exactly?”
“One whole night further.”
There’d been a few long seconds where he’d just stared at her. Clare had felt as if she was standing on the cliff-edge of the entire world, ready to jump into the unknown with this man. “No strings?” he’d eventually said with a raised eyebrow.
“No strings,” she’d confirmed with a bright smile.
And that had been it. No more words had been needed. At least not until he’d brought her to his suite and had asked her one tormenting question after the other about what she wanted. How she wanted it. When and where and how slow...or how fast or how deep...
Her wish had been his command, literally.
Clare didn’t regret it for one moment. Not even now, when he was looking at her so suspiciously. He’d made their night together spectacular on more than one level—he’d been gentle and exploratory and funny...the perfect man. Just what Clare had needed.
Which was why she kept flinching at his nearness. It was a little hard to separate that perfectly wonderful man from this distrustful stranger who doubted her motives for being here.
But in spite of the wariness in his eyes, the knowledge of that night shimmered in the air around them. How hot and hard he’d been under her questing fingers. How he’d used those wickedly clever fingers to learn her rhythm. How deliciously heavy he’d felt over her when he’d ground his lean hips against hers.
A slow hum of heat built up under her skin but Clare ignored the feeling. Whatever had been between them was definitely over. This was all business now.
“Why are you so ready to help me?”
This she could answer with a certainty that had stayed with her despite how awkward things had become between them. “Because I saw how devastated you were when you looked at your phone that morning. How upset you were that something so awful had happened right under your nose.” Even though she’d been hurt by his cold dismissal of her, she’d seen on his face the devastation the news had caused. That he was a man of integrity, just as she’d always known, made his ability to walk away from her so easily that much more...cutting.
When his gaze met hers, Clare rolled her eyes. “In the few moments before you threw me out of the hotel room, that is.”
“I never threw you out. I said I was leaving.”
“It was your suite,” Clare said tartly, and then took a deep breath. “After I asked, in the most pathetic voice, if I had done something wrong.” Heat flushed her neck and face, but Clare was determined to have it all out in the open. “You said it had been ‘nice’ but that’s all it could be.”
Dev rubbed a hand over his face, looking pained.
“The point is that...in those few minutes, before you replaced your mask of jaded billionaire playboy, I saw how genuinely shocked you were. I’ve followed the story as it exploded all over the media. The harm that was caused happened under your leadership. Everything you’ve said publicly since that interview, you’ve never once tried to get out of the fact that you’d failed your employee. Which made me believe that you should be given a chance to turn this around.”
“And you’re the one to do it?”
When it came to business, Clare never second-guessed herself. She’d built her company to be the best. “Your current PR firm sucks. I can do a much better job. The London Connection has a reputation of women empowerment initiatives. A good record of dragging draconic policies into the twenty-first century. Making companies equitable for all.”
“How would this benefit you?” he asked, his gaze pinned on her face.
“Launched our North American branch with a bang? Built our reputation? Turned a big ship like Athleta around and made it a better place for women to work? Take your pick.”
Irritation flickered in his gaze. “I don’t need you to teach me how to fix this.”
“No. I believe you’ve already implemented several measures.”
“How would you know that?”
“Because, as I said, ever since that morning, I’ve kept an eye on you. You’ve hired an independent agency to comb through your HR. You’ve already promoted three different female executives into more senior positions. You’ve got an equality and diversity agency doing a private audit on your board of directors.”
Again, one brow rose. Clare stared right back. She may have started this meeting on the wrong foot, but she’d never been second-rate when it came to her job.
“But you still need me to put a good spin on it. To make everyone, especially women, believe that Athleta will never make those mistakes again. In simple terms, I will validate your efforts. Isn’t that why you finally agreed to see me, Dev?”
He leaned against one wall, his gaze thoughtful. “I’ll give you points for thorough research.”
Clare shrugged. “But you still don’t trust me?”
He shook his head “It’s not you in particular that I don’t trust.”
She waited patiently. If she landed this contract, it would be a huge win for The London Connection. Both for their bottom line and their reputation. Not to mention that, right now, she had nowhere else to go. Literally.
When he finally spoke, tight lines bracketed his mouth. The shock and stress she’d seen in his face that morning three weeks ago hadn’t left him yet. “The man who harassed and hounded Ms. Lane out of the company, I’ve known him for fifteen years. He mentored me when I started in this business. He was one of my first seed investors.
“I... I delegated so much of the everyday operations of the company to him and the team he brought in. Mostly corporate bigwigs. Which meant their power and reach in th
e company was—” a nerve vibrated in his temple “—far more extensive than it should have been. Unchecked, even. Because I was too focused on the next deal, the next product launch. If you’d asked me a month ago, I’d have staked my reputation on the fact that he’d never abuse his power like that with a woman—with anyone. Never... And yet he did. While he worked for me.” A curse fell from his mouth, echoing around the cabin. Full of anger and disgust and something more. “Trust is very thin on the ground for me right now. No matter who it is. He...”
“He made you doubt your own judgment,” Clare said gently, picking the thread up. Knowing exactly how he was feeling right then. “You’re wondering if you can ever get it back...that trust in yourself. You’re not sure where else you might have made a mistake. You’re struggling to come to terms with why you didn’t see it when it was right in front of your eyes.”
“Do you have a degree in psychology too, Clare?” His gaze shone with reluctant admiration. And despite the frustration on his face, that hint of humor peeked through. “Or are you gleaning all this from my expression too?”
Clare laughed. Because it was easier to laugh it away before the pain set in. Before she was forced to consider at length what all this meant and how it shattered the very foundation of her life. “No, no degree in psychology. Just a lot of life experience. Believe me when I say I perfectly understand where you’re coming from.” She took a step forward, intent on making him understand. “I’ll prove to you without a doubt that I didn’t hide in your bedroom just so I could seduce you all over again. Like I already told you, I have reasons of the life-threatening kind for invading your privacy.”
“Fine. I’ll ask the captain to bring us back into port, and you can explain that rather bizarre statement to me. We’ll—”
“Why take us back into port?” she demanded, her thoughts in a panic again.
He stilled. “I’m en route to Rio de Janeiro, and then heading on to my remote villa in the Caribbean. I’m sure the last thing you want is to be stranded there with me for several weeks.”
“I absolutely do want to be stranded at some remote villa in the Caribbean with you,” she contradicted him urgently. “In fact, right now, that sounds like a heaven-sent solution to all my problems.”
He raised a brow, not so much wary as leery of her motives now. “So you’re admitting that you wanted to be stranded with me?”
She sighed, knowing that she was doing a horrible job of this. “Not stranded with you in a romantic setting but more stranded on an island where Mob bosses and their cheerful thugs can’t get to me. I heard you say during the party that you were going to be sailing around, or whatever the hell you call it, for the next couple of weeks or so. That’s the reason I stowed away.”
That distrustful look was back in his eyes again. Not that she could blame him. Frustration and that familiar resentment sat like a boulder on Clare’s chest. She’d slogged for so many years, carefully building her life so that she didn’t need anyone in it. With one move, her father had negated everything she’d achieved. She was going to sound like a certifiable loon for saying what she was about to say.
“Explain, now,” Dev said, in a hard tone that did wonders for the quagmire of self-pity that was threatening to engulf her. “And no more beating about the bush. Give it to me straight.”
“Straight, right. Here goes... I’d like you to kidnap me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Now I know you’ve lost your mind.”
“No, I haven’t,” Clare said with a laugh. It was the hysterical note in it, she was sure, that finally convinced him. “I’m the original damsel in distress, stuck in one of those ghastly fairy tales that I used to love. It’s not really hoots and laughs when you have to depend on someone else to rescue you, you know?” she said, her words full of a bitterness she hadn’t even known was festering inside her. “I need to hide out with you until I can figure out how I can avoid becoming the wife or mistress of some Mafia boss. So much for all the women’s empowerment I’ve been a part of, eh?”
CHAPTER THREE
DEV STARED AT the glittering sheen of tears in Clare’s eyes. Like a mirage in a desert, the wet shine disappeared as he moved closer to her, despite his resolve to treat her as nothing more than a business colleague. If not for the tightness around that lush mouth of hers, he’d have thought he’d imagined the gleam of tears. If not for the stark fear that was palpably radiating from her—that made him want to wrap her safely in his arms—he’d have called her crazy and thrown off his yacht, ocean or not.
But as wary as he was currently feeling about his ability to judge someone’s character, Dev had a feeling she was telling the truth. Or at least the truth as she believed it to be.
He reached out his hand, then pulled it back.
This is not a good idea, Dev, the rational voice in his head said. The one that had tried so many times to curb his wild behavior. The one that was most in touch with his innermost feelings, so to speak.
But, as much as he’d grown a thick, impervious skin over the past almost two decades—thanks to his military school discipline—he wasn’t quite the uncaring bastard the media had so recently accused him of being. Or that he sometimes wished he could be, whenever he found himself caring too deeply, about anything. Especially when he was confronted with a woman like Clare Roberts and all the unwanted feelings she evoked in him.
What they both needed was to take a step back and regroup after this strange meeting, in his closet of all places. “Why don’t we move this discussion out of here?” When she shot him a wary glance, he said gently, “You look like you need a drink. I definitely do, after getting yelled at by my twin.”
“Oh, you have a twin?”
The twinkle in her eyes had him nodding. “Yes. She’s incredibly bossy and she’s getting married in about a month. She’s just warned me that she’ll cut me off from any future nieces or nephews she may give me if I don’t make it to her wedding. So the deadline to clean up my image just got even tighter.”
“Because you don’t want the cloud of this scandal to disturb the wedding atmosphere?”
“No, because I can’t go if...” Dev checked himself. Big blue eyes watched him curiously. “Doesn’t matter why. It’s just important to change the narrative on my company before the wedding. If I want to make it, that is.”
She nodded, lifting that stubborn chin of hers. “Then our plan needs to be aggressive too.”
He still didn’t know why she was here. “I’d also like to have this talk while I’m not still standing half-undressed in my own closet and you don’t look as if someone’s done a thorough job of...mussing you up,” he said tightly. For all his numerous girlfriends, he hated the idea of mixing business with pleasure. Even though the pleasure had been in the past in this case. “I trust most of my staff, but there’s no guarantee of anyone’s loyalty if there’s a nice price tag attached to a juicy story.”
Her mouth fell open. “You think someone might tell the press that you’ve trapped me aboard your yacht with the intention of having your wicked way with me?”
She looked so delighted at the prospect that Dev felt his mouth twitching. “You sound like that’s not a bad thing.”
“Not a bad thing at all, if I was, in reality, a willing partner,” she said dreamily, her gaze suddenly far-off.
“Is this one of your fantasies then, Ms. Roberts?” he said, trying and failing to sound serious.
Her gaze swept over his chest, naked longing shining in it. If he wasn’t just as hungrily tracing every feature of her face, he’d have missed it. The woman had no idea how arousing her transparent desire for him was. He was both amused and a little annoyed by it.
No, mostly annoyed, he corrected himself.
Because, he was right in his initial estimate of her. It had been sheer madness—accepting her proposition that night. In his defense, she’d looked incredibly sexy
and pretty and had been so earnestly direct that he’d found her utterly irresistible.
Clare Roberts—for all she tried to pretend to be a femme fatale—was very much an innocent from the top of her head to the soles of her pretty feet. The kind he usually avoided like the plague.
“Clare?” he said, and cleared his throat. Desire was a constant low thrum under his skin that he had to get used to—because it couldn’t be indulged in again.
“What?” she said distractedly, still only half present.
“Maybe this isn’t the time to act out one of your fantasies?” Dev suggested, suddenly realizing he was grinning. It was just too much fun to bandy words with her. More fun than he’d had in a long time. “However, you might want to check what my interest level is after we finish our business dealings though.”
She drew herself up to her full five feet three inches, glaring daggers at him. “You really think I’m standing here daydreaming about being kidnapped by you, don’t you?”
He shrugged, laughing. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with kidnapping when we’re both consenting adults, is there? And who am I to stand in the way of a woman’s sexual fantasy? Thirdly, you’re the one who got all dreamy and soft when I mentioned it.”
“I was considering it as a story that could be carefully directed so that it reached the right ears, yes. Not getting all hot and bothered about you having your wicked way with me,” she denied hotly.
“That’s me put in my place then,” he said, with a sigh. “As for a story about you and me being stuck together, Clare, forget it. The last thing I need is any unwelcome scrutiny on my love life.”
“But what if it serves my purpose?”
“It doesn’t serve mine,” Dev growled, realizing she was serious. What the hell was she talking about now? “Do you want this deal with my company or do you want salacious stories about us in the media?”
