‘I don’t understand—you want to help me?’
‘Of course. You’re only with us one more day, and I want to make that time as productive as possible. Which is why I want you to have dinner with me this evening.’
‘You mean tonight?’
Her voice sounded too high, and she felt her cheeks grow hot as he raised an eyebrow.
‘Well, it can’t be any other night,’ he said slowly. ‘You’re flying home tomorrow, aren’t you?’
Nola licked her lips nervously, a dizzying heat sliding over her skin. Dinner with her billionaire boss might sound like a dream date, but frankly it was a risk she wasn’t prepared to take.
‘That would be lovely. Obviously,’ she lied. ‘But I’ve got a couple of meetings, and the one with the tactical team at five will probably overrun.’
He locked eyes with her.
‘Oh, don’t worry. I cancelled it.’
She gazed at him in disbelief, and then a ripple of anger flickered over her skin.
‘You cancelled it?’
He nodded. ‘It seemed easier. So is seven-thirty okay?’
‘Okay?’ she spluttered. ‘No, it’s not okay. You can’t just march in and cancel my meetings for a dinner date.’
He raised an eyebrow and took a step backwards. ‘Date? Is that why you’re so flustered? I’m sorry to disappoint you, Ms Mason, but I’m afraid we won’t be alone.’
His words made her heart hammer against her chest, and a hot flush of embarrassment swept across her face. She was suddenly so angry she wanted to scream.
‘I don’t want to be alone with you,’ she snapped, her hands curling into fists. ‘Why would I want that?’
He smiled at her mockingly. ‘I suppose for the same reason as any other woman in your position. Sadly, though, I’ve invited some people I think you should meet. They’ll be good for your business.’
She stared at him mutely, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn’t result in her being fired on the spot.
His gaze shifted from her face to her fists, grey eyes gleaming like polished pewter.
‘Nothing else to say? You disappoint me, Ms Mason! I was hoping for at least one devastating comeback. Okay, I’ll pick you up from your hotel later. Be ready. And don’t worry about thanking me now. You can do that later too.’
‘But I’ve got to pack!’ she called after him, the bottleneck of words in her throat finally bursting.
But it was too late. He’d gone.
Staring after him, Nola felt a trickle of fury run down her spine. Any other woman in your position. How dared he lump her in with all his other wannabe conquests? He was impossible, overbearing and conceited.
But as a hot, swift shiver ran through her body she swore under her breath, for if that was true then why did he still affect her in this way?
Well, it was going to stop now.
Standing up, she stormed across her office and slammed the door.
Breathing out hard, she stared at her shaking hands. It felt good to give way to frustration and anger. But closing a door was easy. She had a horrible feeling that keeping Ram Walker out of her head, even when she was back in Scotland, was going to be a whole lot harder.
FROM HIS OFFICE on the twenty-second floor, Ram stared steadily out of the window at the Pacific Ocean. The calm expression on his face in no way reflected the turmoil inside his head.
Something was wrong. He looked down at the file he was supposed to be reading and frowned. For starters, he was sleeping badly, and he had a near permanent headache. But worst of all he was suffering from a frustrating and completely uncharacteristic inability to focus on what was important to him. His business.
Or it had been important to him right up until the moment he’d walked into that backstreet café and met Nola Mason.
A prickling tension slid down his spine and his chest squeezed tighter.
Down in the bay, a yacht cut smoothly through the waves. But for once his eyes didn’t follow its progress. Instead it was the clear, sparkling blue of the water that drew his gaze.
His jaw tightened, pulling the skin across the high curves of his cheekbones.
Two months ago his life had been perfect. But one particular woman, whose eyes were the exact shade as the ocean, had turned that life upside down.
Nola.
He ran the syllables slowly over his tongue. Before he’d met her the name had simply been an acronym for New Orleans—or the Big Easy, as it was also known. His eyes narrowed. But any connection between Nola Mason and the city straddling the Mississippi ended there. Nola might be many things—sexy, smart and seriously good at her job. But she wasn’t easy. In fact she was unique among women in that she seemed utterly impervious to his charms.
Thinking back to their conversation in the boardroom, remembering the way she had stood up to him in front of the directors, he felt the same mix of frustration, admiration and desire that seemed to define every single contact he had with her.
It was a mix of feelings that was entirely new to him.
Normally women tripped over themselves to please him. They certainly never kept him at arm’s length, or spouted ‘workplace considerations’ as a reason for turning him down.
Turning him down! Even just thinking the words inside his head made him see every shade of red. Nobody had ever turned him down—in the boardroom or the bedroom.
He glanced down at the unread report, but there was no place to hide from the truth: despite the fact that his instincts were screaming at him to keep his distance, he couldn’t stop thinking about Nola and her refusal to sleep with him. Her stupid, logical, perfectly justified refusal to break the rules. Her rules.
He closed the file with a snap. His rules too.
And that was what was really driving him crazy. The fact that up until a couple of months ago he would have agreed with her. Workplace relationships were a poisoned chalice. They caused tension and upset. And not once had he ever been tempted to break those rules and sleep with an employee.
Only Nola Mason was not just a temptation.
She was a virus in his blood.
No. His mouth twisted. She was more like malware in his system, stealthily undermining his strength, his stability, his sanity.
But there was a cure.
His groin hardened.
He knew what it was, and so did she.
He’d seen it in the antagonism flickering in those blue eyes, heard it in the huskiness of her voice. And her resistance, her refusal to acknowledge it was merely fuelling his desire. His anticipation of the moment when finally she surrendered to him.
He tossed the file onto his desk, feeling a pulsing, breathless excitement scrabbling up inside him.
Of course, being Nola, she would offer a truce, not a surrender. Those eyes, that mouth, might suggest an uninhibited sensuality, but he sensed that the determined slant of her chin was not just a pose adopted for business but a reflection of how she behaved out of work and in bed.
Picturing Nola, her blue eyes narrowing into fierce slits as she straddled his naked body, he felt his spine melt into his chair. But truces could only happen if both parties came to the table—which was why he’d invited her to dinner.