I needed my focus fixed firmly in the present to finalise this deal with Vadim Ilyev, not in the past, where betrayal and back-stabbers lurked.
Since the word had spread that I’d agreed to sign the blasted agreement, a few more brazen family members were openly sharpening their tools in anticipation of my failure.
The Russian deal couldn’t fail.
I crossed the living room to where a carafe of coffee sat on a silver tray. Leonora stood next to the sofa, her leather folder braced before her like a Viking shield.
‘Coffee?’
‘No, thank you.’
I poured a cup, letting the addictive scent of roasted beans suffuse my senses.
She cleared her throat. ‘Before we go any further, I think we need to clear up a few things.’
Cup in hand, I strolled over to her. ‘You think?’
Her chin lifted in a way that made me want to kiss the hell out of her. Then beg her for more. Shit, there was that begging thing again. Curious thing, that.
‘I don’t usually conduct business meetings like that,’ she said.
‘So I’m special? I’m pleased to hear it.’
Her lips pursed, then she took the high road. ‘I’m willing to forget that...that happened if you are?’ A faint blush kissed her cheeks.
I bit back a grin, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate it if I said exactly what was on my mind right then. ‘Your generosity is much appreciated, Leonora.’
Her eyes widened a touch at my use of her full name. ‘It’s Leonie.’
‘I prefer Leonora. For all sorts of reasons.’
She opened her mouth, no doubt to berate me again, but then changed her mind. I hid my disappointment and gulped my coffee, hoping the caffeine would shock my brain into full efficiency.
‘Do you have the leasing agreement?’
She gave a brisk nod and plucked it from the folder. I’d read an electronic copy of it on the plane so I signed it and handed it back.
The breath she released was tinged with relief I was a little envious of because I had a feeling the coming weeks weren’t going to be a piece of cake for me.
Damn Vadim and his feet dragging. Damn my blasted family...
‘You were going to give me a list of your guests earlier.’
I paced the window and turned around, again finding her gaze on me. This time she was quicker to neutralise her expression.
‘By order of importance, my client, Vadim Ilyev, four or five of his cronies and various hangers-on. They’ll be aboard from anywhere between a few days to a couple of weeks, depending on how our negotiations go, although I bloody well hope it won’t be that long.’ I ignored her startled glance and continued, ‘At some point, some of my family members may drop by.’ Again she sent me a wary glance, no doubt at my less-than-enthusiastic tone. ‘Florence Mortimer is to be given priority above everyone else if she makes an appearance.’
Leonora paused her furious scribbling. ‘Is that your mother?’
‘In all the ways that count except by birth,’ I replied.
She stared. Attempted to read between the lines. Then she went back to making her notes. ‘And you? Will you be entertaining any special guests?’
‘Is that your way of asking me if I’m bringing my lover aboard?’
She shrugged, her gaze fixed on her notes. ‘I’m simply gathering as much information as possible.’
‘Leonora...’ I waited till she looked my way. ‘It wounds me that you consider me a man who entertains a beautiful woman in his bathroom when he’s involved with someone else.’
Her gaze didn’t waver. ‘Technically, I invited myself,’ she rebutted firmly.
That brazen way of stating the unvarnished truth impressed the hell out of me. Penny had been economical and manipulative with the truth, right up until her ultimate, unforgivable betrayal.
‘But I also think you’re the kind of man who enjoys getting under people’s skin.’
My grin came away a little stiff. ‘Do you think I’m spoilt, Leonora?’
‘I think you’re impatient and opinionated and domineering and a little entitled. But not spoilt.’
‘Why not?’
A triumphant smile played around her luscious lips. ‘I know how spoilt, rich people behave. For starters, they don’t write letters of recommendation for doormen. It’s clear that you can be generous and accommodating when you want to be.’
Bloody hell, she was fucking adorable. And sexy and intelligent in a way that pressed all the buttons that had grown a little rusty in my bid to use superficial pleasure to dull my pain.
Ignoring the resurgent twitch in my groin, I strolled over to perch on the arm of the sofa. She angled her head towards me, her delicate jaw tilted in open defiance that turned me on even more.
‘And do you want to know why, Leonora, you in particular—with your charming little suit, your prissily knotted hair and your ballpoint pen—have brought out the worst in me this morning?’ I demanded softly, finally giving in to the urge to stroke my finger down her jaw.
She sucked in a sharp breath through slightly parted lips. Her eyes widened but she didn’t move away. She stayed exactly where she was, taunting me with her warm, silky skin. Taunting me with what I couldn’t have.
When my thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, her lips parted wider. ‘What—’
The knock on the door made her jump. I gave an inner groan, dropped my hand and downed the rest of my coffee.
‘That would be my next appointment.’
She blinked, then frowned. ‘We’re not done, Gideon. I need more information.’
‘I can fit you in tonight,’ I said as I walked to the door. ‘We’ll meet back here, but be prepared to go out. We’ll do dinner first, then... Who knows?’
‘I thought you had plans with a roulette table,’ she snipped as she slammed the folder shut and rose.
I shrugged. ‘She’s a cruel mistress when she wants to be. But she’s also very patient.’ I looked over my shoulder, paused with one hand on the doorknob. ‘And, Leonora, wear something that’s...not that suit you’re wearing.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this suit.’
‘No, there isn’t. And that’s exactly my problem.’ I didn’t think I could handle being in the same room with her without ripping that single, naughty little button holding in her assets.
I pulled the door open before I changed my mind about ending our meeting. On the threshold stood a tall, leggy brunette in a very short dress.
‘Bonjour, I’m Monique. I’m here as requested, Monsieur Mortimer,’ she said with a toothpaste smile.
Behind me, I heard Leonora choke before she covered it with an unnecessary throat-clearing.
I hid a smile. ‘And right on time, too. You’ll do, sweetheart. Come in.’ I pointed down the hall. ‘First door on your right.’
‘Merci.’ She sailed into the suite with a wide smile, which faltered when she spotted Leonora.
The two women eyed each other before Leonora tugged on her sleeve and fixed me with a baleful stare. ‘Would it be better if I deal with your assistant back in London? That way I can save