A Billionaire Affair

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A Billionaire Affair Page 3

by Niobia Bryant


  Alek took a deep sip of water as he forced himself to look away from her. To not be drawn into her, into everything she had become: a mix of cool confidence and simmering sex appeal. He definitely enjoyed the look of her more than what she was saying.

  “Alek... Alek...your thoughts?”

  He blinked away a vision of undoing every button of Alessandra’s shirt to bury his head against her breasts as he pressed her body down onto the conference table. His eyes shifted to Aldrich Brent, the president of the corporation and executive board member. “I’m not impressed,” he said dismissively, rising to his feet. He smoothed his double-knotted silk tie before buttoning the jacket of his custom Tom Ford pin-striped suit. “It’s clear that Alessandra is naive and amateurish in business. I am disappointed she felt competent in presenting this venture to the board.”

  Alessandra mumbled under her breath.

  He offered her a brief glance as he reached for his briefcase and pulled a stack of twelve black folders from it. “I would like to offer an alternative that is viable,” he stressed, walking around the table to place a report before each of the ten board members flanking the table and then Alessandra sitting at the end opposite him.

  She took it from him with a hard stare.

  He came to stand next to his seat at the end of the table. “Anyone with an iota of business acumen could ascertain—”

  “Enough of the insults, Alek,” Alessandra requested calmly.

  He feigned confusion. “Insults?” he asked.

  “Yes, less of them and more of your proposal is all that I’m asking,” she said.

  Only the fire in her eyes revealed her rising ire at him.

  “Do you need a moment?” he asked, his tone mocking as he egged her on.

  Her mouth tightened into a thin line and her jaw was clenched so tightly that he was sure she could bite a nail in half with ease.

  Alek cleared his throat. “The interest of ADG would be better served with a move into commercial aviation,” he said.

  “Commercial aviation,” Alessandra snapped, tossing the folder on the table where it spun like a top until it hit against a board member’s glass of water.

  “Yes,” he answered, his gaze leveling on her. Her annoyance with him caused her eyes to shine brightly. He forced himself to look away from her as he felt his usual cool composure wane. When did she become so beautiful?

  “And we’re supposed to believe this is not just a last-minute stunt to gun for my venture idea?” she asked coldly.

  “Yes.”

  Alessandra swore, and then winced in regret. Such language wasn’t appropriate, no matter the impetus.

  The chaotic energy around them seemed to whip loudly in the air with the force of lightning.

  “Really?” Alek asked, his tone scolding.

  “My apologies, but as you all can see nothing has changed between Mr. Ansah and me since our last meeting in this boardroom five years ago,” she explained, her tone calm and composed.

  The board members and the secretary taking the notes stirred in their seats as Alessandra and Alek cast each other cold glares.

  “Very unprofessional, Alessandra,” Alek said with a smugness at her losing her equanimity. He wasn’t finished. “The boardroom is no place for histrionics.”

  She jumped to her feet and stalked down the length of the table with the board members’ heads all turning to follow her. “Histrionics?” she spat, as she pointed her finger into his chest.

  “This board does not have time for your trivial pursuits, Alessandra,” he countered, looking down to take in her brown eyes lit with the fire of her anger.

  “Nor your inept attempts at trying to capture the queen in a chess game you’re not fully equipped to play,” she said coldly.

  Alek reached up and lightly captured the finger she pressed into his chest into his hand. “When it comes to business, you’re no queen, my dear,” he said, his voice low in the small space between them as he instinctively stroked her soft palm with his thumb.

  His eyes squinted in surprise when he thought he felt her shiver.

  She snatched away from his grip and stepped back from him. “Then why are you so intimidated by me?”

  Alek threw his head back and laughed wholeheartedly. “Me? You? Intimidated?” he said in between chuckles.

  “Enough!” Aldrich said, jumping to his feet.

  Alek and Alessandra looked to the older man, his thin lips still quivering in frustration and his face now reddish with annoyance.

  “Do you think your fathers would be proud of your behavior?” he asked, his English accent clipped.

  “Yes,” Alessandra answered unequivocally. “Yes, I do.”

  Alek looked disbelieving.

  “My father wanted me in this position. He believed I could handle this position. And I have proven—even at the detriment of my own personal happiness—that I can thrive in this position,” she said, stalking back to her seat. “And so, if it means standing up for myself to this archaic-minded jackass and his chauvinistic mind-set then, yes, I believe my father is in heaven not only standing up and applauding, but wishing he could interject and give some more of the same.”

  Alek’s eyes darted to the up-and-down motion of her breasts as she deeply breathed through her anger at him. His desire stirred. This woman who defied him with such fire and authority was not the mousy little Alessandra of the past. This was a different woman. And he wanted her with an intensity that surprised him. He bit back a smile as he calmly unbuttoned his blazer and reclaimed his seat.

  Aldrich gave them both stern looks as he took his seat. He had been with the conglomerate since the early days and both thought of him as a family friend. It was respect for him, his position with the company and his friendship with their fathers that stopped the sparks flying between them.

  “Do you both have companies in mind set up for an acquisition to become a subsidiary of ADG?” another of the board members asked.

  “Yes. My team and I have been narrowing the field for the past couple of months in preparation for this being my first major act as co-CEO. As shown in the reports I gave you all, we have a strong contender,” Alessandra said.

  “Alek?”

  “Yes.”

  “Liar,” she mouthed at him.

  That tongue on the dip of her bottom lip thing is really hot.

  “I believe it would only be viable to explore one of these suggestions at this time,” Aldrich said, looking from Alessandra to Alek. “The majority vote of the members of this board would constitute the breaking of a...tie.”

  Alek’s and Alessandra’s eyes locked across the distance.

  He blinked and looked away from her. A craving to kiss her wouldn’t release him.

  Aldrich cleared his throat. “I suggest you both present your full proposals at next month’s meeting and we will hold a vote to settle the matter once and for all.”

  His fellow board members gave approving nods.

  “Fine,” Alessandra said, picking up her pen to rotate it between her slender fingers.

  Alek remained silent. He was stunned the board was even open to her proposal. And in truth, during her presentation they had been attentive. Respectful, even. It’s time to get more acquainted with Miss Dalmount.

  Over the rim of round, bright red spectacles, the board’s secretary, Iris Dennis, eyed the board members from her seat next to Aldrich. “Shall we move on? The meeting does coincide with the thirtieth Jubilee celebration next month to be held at the Lake House. The meeting will be that Thursday and we have confirmed use of a conference room on-site. I would like to quickly review the final preparations for the events that weekend.”

  Alek tilted his head in acquiescence to Iris as he continued to watch Alessandra closely and find that he liked the look of her. She was stunning. Sophisticated and polished. Pois
ed. She had this subtle sexy that was understated and made a man want to see more. He wanted more.

  * * *

  “I would like to make a formal offer to buy you out, Alessandra.”

  Long after the board meeting had ended and the members had left the conference room, Alek and Alessandra remained in their seats at opposing ends of the table. Moments ticked by and silence reigned.

  Alessandra took him in. His low-cut hair, his handsome face, and the broadness of his shoulders in his tailored suit that he wore with such ease that she was sure he owned a hundred or more of them. Physically, everything about him intrigued her. Traitor.

  “It’s time you realize that there is a woman—a qualified woman—sitting at the table in the boys’ club, Alek,” she finally said, tapping the tip of her nail against the top of the polished wood conference table. “No more running to London to hide from the truth.”

  Tap-tap-tap.

  “And do you like being in the company of men, Alessandra, pretending to be one of the boys?” he asked.

  Alessandra arched a brow. “Are you questioning my femininity, Alek?” she asked, her voice soft but with an underlying steely edge.

  He shook his head and turned his lips downward. “No, of course not,” he said, rapping his strong knuckles against the table. “Femininity has nothing to do with sexuality.”

  Alessandra sighed and leaned back in her chair as she tilted her head to the side to look at him. “Perhaps having women with more looks than intellect fawning over you has distorted your idea of women and what we want, Alek. But please let’s be clear that, although I completely understand why a woman would want to be rid of men in every way, including sexually, I am not a lesbian.”

  “You’re not?” he asked in feigned surprise.

  She rolled her eyes. “Surprise, surprise, Mr. I Can’t Keep My Personal Life Out of the Tabloids. Not every straight woman flings herself at your feet. Some of us have more discretion—and taste.”

  Alek leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “Perhaps if you stopped playing businesswoman and focused on finding a life of your own, you wouldn’t have time to watch mine.”

  Alessandra fought hard to keep her composure. Gone was her nervousness, replaced by the fire and indignation his attitude evoked. She enjoyed their banter. She even felt rallied by his challenge. “And perhaps your life entails such a long string of women because you’re incapable of satisfying one well enough to stay around,” she said, and then offered him a tip of her head. So there.

  Alessandra rose and gathered her files and folders before turning to walk to the door without another look at him.

  “Perhaps if you were my type I would show you how well equipped I am at satisfying a woman.”

  She froze just as her hand closed around the cool brass of the doorknob. She released a short breath as if a pressure valve had been briefly turned. Allowing herself a five count, she turned and walked the length of the spacious conference room to stand before him. She reached down to grip the back of his chair, bringing their faces just inches apart. His face within a lick of her oxblood-tinted lips, she said, “Physically I am your type, Alek. I am very much your type...and you know it. Humph, it’s only my brain and my backbone that you think are a turnoff.”

  His face was a mask of boredom, but his eyes dipped down to her mouth, and Alessandra saw it. Her breath caught and she rose, backing away from him at the truth of her words in his eyes. She knew desire when she saw it. She turned and quick-walked to the door, trying to hide how much he flustered her.

  “Qui s’enfuit maintenant?” he asked smoothly in French.

  He must have known she spoke it fluently. “Who’s running away now?” he’d asked.

  Me. I’m running. Running fast and hard and not stopping one damn bit.

  Alessandra didn’t stop her hurried steps until she had left the room and pulled the door closed behind her. With her heart beating rapidly, she licked the dryness from her mouth and allowed herself a moment to press her back to the door as she fought hard to reclaim the coolness she had become known for in the last five years.

  Making a pained face, she raised her free hand to lightly knock her wrist against her forehead. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she admonished herself in a whisper.

  The man was a chauvinist who made it clear he wanted her out of the company in which they equally owned the majority of shares. He had no respect for her. No desire to work with her or even be around her.

  The doorknob turned against her buttocks a moment before it was opened from behind her. Alessandra’s face filled with alarm as she felt her body free-fall backward.

  She felt Alek’s large hands wrap around her upper arms. The thin material of her shirt did nothing to protect her from the warmth of his touch as he kept her from hitting the floor. Her head landed on one of his shoulders and her back pressed lightly against his chest.

  Alessandra felt nothing but strength.

  Quickly she turned, accidentally pressing her body back against the open door. “Th-thank—thank you,” she stuttered, her nerves completely undone by him.

  He stepped up close to her.

  Alessandra tried to back away more but there was nothing but the unrelenting pressure of the door against her back.

  “You’re welcome, Alessandra,” he said softly, before reaching up to lightly stroke her cheek and then her chin before he walked away from her.

  She closed her eyes and released a long shaky breath, left with nothing but the warm scent of his cologne and the lingering aftereffects of his touch.

  * * *

  I wanted to kiss her.

  Alek looked back over his shoulder as he walked down the length of the hall leading to his office. He stopped and turned as Alessandra closed the door to the conference room, pressed her files to her chest and then walked across the reception area. His eyes shifted down to the gentle sway of her hips and buttocks in her pants.

  Alek considered himself a connoisseur of woman, and Alessandra Dalmount was top-shelf.

  Very nice, he thought, not turning away to continue down the hall until she was out of his line of vision.

  He walked through the open glass double doors into his outer office.

  “Hello, Ms. Kingsley,” he said to the woman whose very appearance was the essence of propriety and no-nonsense.

  He wanted it that way. He’d experienced the debacle of a young, sexy secretary with her eye on the wealthy executive. He didn’t need the temptation.

  Ms. Kingsley gave him a smile that didn’t reach her cobalt blue eyes. “I entered all your messages on the online log,” she said.

  Alek patted the inner pocket over his heart where his iPhone sat. “I got the notifications. Thank you,” he said, moving past her desk to open one of the double doors leading into his office.

  “Please get Naim Ansah on the line.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  With an approving nod, he closed the door and tossed his briefcase on the leather sofa of his reception area before he unbuttoned his silk-lined blazer to remove it and place it on the hanger of the wooden valet standing just outside his private bathroom. Taking his seat behind his massive desk, he signed on to his iPad to check the log of his incoming messages. A few business calls, and at least one message each from his mother, LuLu, his sister, Samira, and his brother, Naim.

  He smiled. His return to New York meant more time spent with the family he had left behind five years ago. They visited him often in London, but he was pleased to be back among them regularly. He was sure his mother was already preparing his favorite Ghanaian dish of yam fufu and nkatenkwan. He couldn’t wait to pull off a piece of the fufu ball and dip into the stew of chicken cooked in a rich peanut butter sauce and tomatoes with spices.

  His stomach grumbled, but he focused on work instead. It was time to get serious about his plan to shi
ft ADG into commercial aviation, and his younger brother was just the help he needed. Naim was younger than him by five years, but he was ambitiously climbing through the ranks of the company through sheer hard work. Nepotism had gotten him in the door but Naim was out to prove that he deserved his seat at the table. In the three years since he had begun at ADG, he had moved up the ranks from a management trainee to a lead position in the marketing division.

  Bzzz.

  “Yes?” he said, continuing to scan the message log.

  “Mr. Ansah is in a meeting. Would you like me to continue holding?” Ms. Kingsley asked via the intercom.

  Alek held his finger above the tablet at the sight of his ex-wife’s name. Kenzay called? His brows dipped as he frowned deeply.

  “Sir?” Ms. Kingsley gently nudged.

  “No. I’ll see him later,” he said before turning off the intercom.

  He leaned back in his chair and swiveled to look out the twenty-foot windows. The warmth of the sunlight framed him as he looked off in the distance at the varying shapes, colors and designs of the neighboring high-rise buildings. Is Kenzay in New York?

  Usually they reached out to each other only during those rare occasions they were in the same city.

  He’d met the beautiful socialite on the elevator of the Burj Al Arab in Dubai. He’d been staying at the hotel while in the country checking on one of ADG’s numerous oil refineries; she was on a massive shopping spree sponsored by her father, a real estate developer of luxury hotels and mansions. Within hours they were making love against the floor-to-ceiling windows of his presidential suite with the sapphire ocean as their backdrop. Six months later they were married in a five-million-dollar destination wedding in the Maldives. The honeymoon period came and went quickly. Although their nights were filled with hot sex, their days were nothing but bitter arguments and long stretches of cold silence. They agreed neither wanted to be married and they never truly loved each other. By their second wedding anniversary their divorce was finalized.

 

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