She reached over to where she'd perched the business card from the courier. The hologram winked, like an eye watching her, beckoning. At the back of her mind a little voice began to chant.
I dare you, Abby. I dare you.
* * * *
Zachary Bordino eased his Mercedes SLR down a gear and took the next exit off the London ring road. He'd passed into Surrey, where the commuter belt merged with the countryside. It was green and calm, the August heat mellowing out in the more tranquil setting. The city had been uncomfortably hot, the pavements sizzling.
Sizzling. The word ran back and forth through his thoughts, returning him to the image of the sexy receptionist he'd had the lucky chance to encounter earlier that day at the Robertson Corporation. The way her glance had sidled over to him as she walked into the elevator had brought out all his hunting instincts. She was intriguing. He'd sensed a wild streak in her, just beneath the surface, and it caught his interest immediately. She was attractive too, in an unusual, bohemian way. Pale skin and amber eyes, dark hair shot through with red—hair that needed to be tamed. Her body was curvy but lithe, blatantly sexy in the way she walked and moved. She'd taken the business card for The Hub. He wondered if she'd find her way over.
Who'd have guessed the chore would turn out to be so interesting? At first he'd been nonplussed when his mother requested he deliver papers on her behalf, but he soon forgot that, thanks to the receptionist he'd had the pleasure to deliver them to. Her direct gaze had been filled with blatant appraisal, as if she was scoring him on his potential sexual performance when she looked him over, and that alone made his blood roar. She was one hot woman.
He pulled the car on to the gravel driveway of his parents' home and took off his shades, dropping them on the passenger seat as he got out of the car. Instead of going to the front door, he walked further down the driveway. Reaching over the fence, he unlatched the gate and stepped inside, catching sight of his mother on the patio as he did so.
She was carrying a tray of refreshments over to a table in the shady corner of the patio, beneath the trellis laden with trailing honeysuckle and bougainvillea plants. Hearing the dogs friendly barking she squinted over and lifted her glasses in one hand, peering through them without actually putting them on.
"Vain as ever," he murmured to himself as he returned her wave. Strolling over, the hounds at his heels, he put his hands out to embrace her.
She hugged him, petite and fair against him, although they shared the same blue eyes and inquisitive minds.
"Mother, you look more beautiful than ever." He rested a kiss on her forehead.
She dismissed his remark with a wave of her hand, but beamed, nevertheless. Smoothing down her perfectly smooth, silver-gray bob, she gestured at the seat next to her own.
"You're the perfect English gentlemen, despite the dash of Greek blood you have inherited from Dimitri."
"Just a dash?" He gave her a quizzical glance as he took his seat. "You're after something. When you don't need me you tell me I'm his offspring." He already knew she was after something when he'd had to play courier on her behalf.
"Nonsense, I wanted to see you. Boredom is sending me doolally. This early retirement business can drive a person mad."
He tutted, reached over and held her by one slim shoulder as he looked her over. "The rest is doing you good. You look stronger than you have in a long while."
She shrugged from his grasp, drawing his attention to the refreshments. Zac eyed her watchfully. She hated to admit she wasn't as strong as she used to be, but he was relieved to see her with more color in her cheeks than she'd had this past year. She'd been a fit woman all her life until the previous year, when she'd had a mild stroke and her lifestyle had come under severe scrutiny.
"Did you manage to deliver that little package for me?"
"I did. And I hope you have a good reason for sending me with documents the courier could have taken directly himself."
"What did you think of the place?" She sipped her drink, feigning nonchalance.
"The Robertson Corporation?"
"Yes."
"They have a very attractive receptionist."
"Zachary!"
He rested back in his chair and chuckled. "I assume it's the company you've hired to oversee the Ashburn investments?"
She nodded.
"I checked them out online before I went over. They have an impeccable reputation. I'm sure you knew that when you hired them. Just relax."
"I'd be able to relax if you helped me with my work." The way she spoke about the company as if she was still at the helm was such a giveaway.
Zac sipped his drink, making her wait. "I'm well aware that you plan to carry on by hook, crook or subterfuge." He smiled at her benevolently.
Adrianna let out a dismissive sound then rested her perfectly manicured hands together in a contemplative pose. "You are more observant than your father, I'll give you that."
"And less easy to influence?"
"Yes." She rolled her eyes. "I suppose it's an admirable quality, even if does make my life more difficult." She shuffled in her chair. "Zachary, darling, I realize I made a mistake not encouraging you to get involved in the family business earlier, but I thought your father was right and you should establish your own interests first."
"And I agreed with that."
She nodded impatiently. "You've created a little niche of your own in the property business now, but it takes up more time than it should."
"Time you could use elsewhere, I suppose?"
"Why you have to get so involved with each and every aspect of it is beyond me. Why can't you maintain some distance?"
Zac chuckled. His mother portrayed herself as the ultimate business paragon. He'd learned from her example, but had gone his own way. He liked to be out there in the thick of it. He also blamed his father—a Greek restaurateur who could never keep himself out of the kitchen, despite the fact he was supposed to be managing his chain of restaurants from a distance.
"I like to work that way, I enjoy seeing things grow and flourish." He lazed back in his chair, breathing the heady aroma of the flowers on the overhead trellis.
Adrianna pouted.
He shrugged, opening his hands in a sign of surrender. "You're going to have to come completely clean with me if you want my help."
She gave a regretful sigh. "I'm in trouble with your father." She looked at him, sheepishly. "When I got the managers set up with the portfolio I insisted the team leader send me a daily report, not just when they needed approvals. I wanted to monitor and approve their every move." She paused. "I had George write it into the contract...but only so that I could check what they were up to."
"Poor old George, I suppose you sweet-talked him into doing it?" George was the family solicitor and he was like putty in Adrianna's hands. He'd had a crush on her for nearly thirty years.
Adrianna carried on regardless, as if eager to get the confession over with. "Your father caught me going through the emails. He was furious. Threatened to leave. You know what he's like."
He thought they'd managed to convince her to outsource the development side of the Ashburn Company, her company. But apparently she hadn't let it go. She'd begged Zac to take over from the outset, but he'd recently got his own business on to steady ground and the time wasn't right. Besides, she had to learn to trust others outside the family. It wasn't easy, god knows he knew that himself. He'd had his fingers burned in the past. But these were professional money managers they were talking about. "It was only a matter of time until you were found out, naughty Adrianna."
"Please, Zac. I know you're busy with your...thing." She waved her hand. She'd never thought the arts world was worthy of his attention. "They do have a good reputation, but I'm not happy with them. They've just announced a change in personnel. The man I've been in contact with is going elsewhere, what sort of impression is that supposed to give a soul? I'd much rather they were working closely with one of us but your father won't let m
e." She gave him an imperious glance. "It is your inheritance, Zachary."
"Ah, so we're playing the inheritance card now, are we?"
She glared at him.
He adopted a more serious expression. "In another few months I can look at the entire situation again, right now my commitments wouldn't allow me to do it justice. In the meantime, do you want me to deal with these daily reports for you, keep an eye on the Robertson people?" Robertson people, attractive receptionist—now why did that sound so interesting?
Adrianna broke into a relieved smile, leaned over and rested her hand over his. "Would you, darling? I'd be so glad."
"If you promise to rest."
She didn't answer. Instead she rustled about under the table, pulling out a glossy, bound file. "You'll need this."
He fought back another laugh and took it from her hand. It was the dossier of the Robertson team, a standard business pack presented to clients.
"I've arranged an end of month meeting. They've got the contract until then."
"That's not very long."
"I wanted a get-out if I didn't like them."
"Or you decided to take over again," he murmured. She was incorrigible. He leafed through the folder while sipping on his iced tea. Stats and recommendations lined up against publicity shots. It all looked pretty solid, but one could never tell. He was about to snap the file shut when something caught his eye.
Adrianna was still verbalizing her concerns in the background, but her voice faded away. He flipped the pages back. There she was, the receptionist. His blood heated immediately.
He scrutinized the group shot. She was dressed impeccably and standing between the head of the organization and another suited man. He scanned the names. Abigail Douglas. Investment Advisor. He did a double take.
What do you know? He flicked through the resumes at the back of the file. According to the suggested Ashburn team list, she was heavily involved in running his Mother's affairs. How amusing.
"Well, well." He glanced up.
"What is it, have you found something already?"
"Don't get carried away with your wishful thinking." He closed the file. "Trust me. I'll do all that I can to watch over your interests."
"And you won't tell your father?"
"I won't tell," he assured her, smiling. He was happy to take it on. Especially if it meant he had access to the lovely Abigail Douglas.
Chapter Two
Abby closed the boardroom door behind her and joined the meeting. Tom Robertson, the Executive Director, watched over as they arranged themselves. It was a fairly small, select group that had been summoned for the project control meeting and they gathered at one end of the polished mahogany table.
Aside from herself and Ed, Penny Conroy had been summoned. Penny had been working as an assistant to Abby and Ed for the past eighteen months. She sat poised at the edge of her seat, her ash-blonde hair scraped back into a tight swirl, speared at the nape of her neck with a carved wooden creation akin to a spear. She had strange gray eyes and looked as if she never needed to rest.
Caroline Bradshaw, the legal representative of their company, was also present. She was the one who kept them all on their toes. Quiet and observant, her personal characteristics reflected her role as shadow to the team's work.
"Thank you for gathering so promptly," Tom began, rising to his feat and pacing, as was his way. "I want to discuss some re-organization of project control, with changes taking affect immediately. If anyone has any problems with my suggestions, please voice them." He was, as ever, leading the group, but giving an appearance of shared control and responsibility.
"I'd like to begin by stating that I don't normally advise shifting project control about like this, and you may be wondering why I am taking this route now." A murmur of acknowledgement ran round the assembled group. "The situation is that I've been asked to personally manage a prestige account, so the asset management of the Pascal portfolio is going to have to leave my hands. This will have an inevitable impact on the team workload, but I've already informed all the clients involved so we can move forward."
"Pascal has been a complicated client portfolio because they wanted analysis of previous investments as well as onward management. I'm only mid way with the analysis, so that's the first priority." He rested his hands on the table and looked round at them. "It's a two person job, so you're all going to be shifted."
As the meeting rolled on, it turned out to be just as Ed had suggested. Tom was handing over to Ed, who would lead the team for Pascal. Penny would also go over to the project full time. Abby wondered how Ed had found out so much beforehand, then she noticed that Penny anticipated every word from Tom's mouth with a self-satisfied gleam in her eye. Abby began to wonder what the purpose of the meeting was, if everybody already knew what was going to be said—where was the fun and the mystery in that? She smiled inwardly. It was one of the reasons why she didn't socialize with them as much as she used to—they all took themselves far too seriously.
Tom turned to Abby. "And briefly, in conclusion, the matter of the Ashburn portfolio. That I am going to place in your hands, Abigail. I am confident that you'll be able to continue with that project and see it through to a long renewal." He smiled graciously, his sharp eyes affectionate, as if he knew she'd be pleased about it.
Abby felt the rush of adrenaline that came from a welcome challenge. It was indeed a good opportunity. "I'll be glad to take it on, Tom," she replied, and her smile was genuine. Next to the thrill of an orgasm this was the sort of thrill she enjoyed most of all.
"I'm sure the new arrangements will benefit the clients involved and exhibit our dedication to success. We always have 'the best interests of the customer's account at heart.'". He smiled while he quoted the company motto.
When the meeting dispersed Tom targeted Abby and took her to one side. "Are you happy with the additional responsibility?" He had a quality about him that was both charming and disarming, a skill that had undoubtedly established him in life. His presentation was immaculate. He never had a silvering-hair out of place.
She gave him a confident nod. "I'm sure things will go smoothly. The project has less than three weeks until the contract renewal date."
Tom nodded, but remained thoughtful. "Adrianna Ashburn is a formidable lady."
Abby smiled. "So I understand."
Tom returned the smile, but briefly. "She's also rather eccentric and liable to move her account after the trial period."
Ed had hinted as much, but Abby hadn't realized Tom was anxious about it.
"It's her baby and handing it over clearly hasn't been easy." He paused for emphasis. "I'd really like to secure this portfolio for permanent management by our team."
Abby nodded. He was concerned that she'd thought she was getting the easy part of the bargain, and he was telling her privately that she hadn't. Far from it, she knew that. "If I keep the turnover levels up and complete new developments to the client's satisfaction during that time—and I'm sure I can—then there shouldn't be anything to worry about."
She was aware that Tom considered her a bit of a law unto herself. She didn't exactly play by the rules when it came to business, but her track record had proven her a risk worth taking. She was also aware of his watchful eye over her work. To be left alone in charge of such a major account was quite a step forward, and no small acknowledgement of her ability on his behalf.
"I don't doubt you can, Abby. But if you need any help, don't hesitate to come to me. At any time." He gave her a lingering look that was edged with sexual references.
Abby was surprised. She'd heard about his many affairs but hadn't previously felt his attention focusing on her. It was flattering, but Abby didn't reciprocate his interest. In their high-flying corporate world it was far too easy to have sex for all the wrong reasons, and if she thought on it too long she knew she'd already done that with Ed.
She thanked him for his confidence in her, then looked over his shoulder and saw that Ed and
Penny were engrossed in conversation as they left the room. Caroline had already gone.
"I should grab Ed's files and get on with the job." She nodded at Tom, picked up her notes and left.
In the ladies restroom she peered at her reflection analytically. She didn't look like a highflying investment manager, never had. The mop of reddish brown hair didn't help. In the right light it could pass for chestnut or auburn. In this rather unforgiving light it looked ginger.
The door opened behind her. "Hi, Abby." Caroline's oval reflection appeared next to her own in the mirror. "Grabbing a minute to yourself?"
"Yes, before the onslaught." Abby glanced down into her bag to find her comb.
"It's going to be tough, but you'll be fine. Call on me if you need any support." She patted Abby's arm.
"Sure thing."
"Still on for the gym next week?"
Abby raked the comb through her hair. "Absolutely, at least their air conditioning works."
Caroline chuckled. "You're right and it's just as well." She plucked the top off her lip liner. "I expect you'll be glad you don't have to work with Penny any more." The words popped from her mouth as if they could no longer be retained, despite the fact she was assaulting herself with the lip liner at the time.
Abby looked up, surprised. She usually avoided office allegiances and gossip as far as possible, but she was made curious by Caroline's comment.
"Penny's a good assistant. I always felt I could rely on her." She watched Caroline's face in the mirror. "I'll be sorry to lose her contribution to the team, but she'll be valued on the Pascal account, I'm sure."
Caroline gave a sad, knowing smile. "She wanted your job, you know. It won't be long until she's after Ed's...she's always had an eye for the main chance."
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