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

      He didn’t once glance at the card, which still tumbled 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 had to pay 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 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.

      Three 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 an end 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

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