Boardrooms & a Billionaire Heir / Jealousy & a Jewelled Proposition: Boardrooms & a Billionaire Heir. Yvonne Lindsay

morality clause, or her naivety for thinking she’d be any different from the rest of Max’s women.

      It was those innocent choirboy looks, complete with a mop of golden curls that made Max Carlton such a hit. The men liked him for his after-hours drinks and blokey talk about football and women. The women were flattered by his charm and good looks. And to her surprise, there’d been a spark of interest despite the unofficial gossip. He was an attractive smooth-talker and everyone knew it, especially Max Carlton.

      So you fell for it and now he’s got you over a barrel. Way to go, Holly.

      “What do you want?” Before she could blink, he took her arm and steered her across the courtyard to a dark corner.

      She wrenched from his grip, her breath coming quick and angry. Thank goodness for public places. Past him, she noticed the caterer’s tables, the half-dozen people setting up for the hungry masses.

      “What have you found out?”

      “Nothing,” she said, disgust clogging her voice. “Jake Vance is above board on this one.”

      Max smiled thinly. “We’re talking about the same guy, right? Men like Vance don’t just waltz into a company with good intentions. They destroy them.”

      “He’s not here for a takeover. And I’m sure Ric or Ryan would have—”

      Max snorted. “They’re too busy playing happy families. Vance has ’em fooled. Listen.” He stepped closer, an intimidating figure in the half-shadows. “I’ve got a good thing going at Blackstone’s and I plan to keep it that way. Just get me proof of Vance’s intentions. After I get compensated by the board—”

      “You’ll sign off on my permanent PR transfer.”

      “Yeah, sure.” He reached out to touch her cheek but she flinched. He narrowed his eyes. “Make no mistake, Holly. If you blab, I’ll take you down with me. Whom do you think the board will believe?”

      Then he swiftly tipped the glass of wine down her shirt. Holly choked off a squeal and jumped back, too late. The dark wet stain spread rapidly over the chiffon, dripping down her front.

      Max looked nonplussed. “Jake’s busy chatting up the models. Go back to the office and change. And check out his desk.”

      The elevators pinged open, startling Holly into the present. The insides of her mouth were arid and scratchy. It was all about Max—his job, his comfort. No thought as to how this corporate espionage went against every decent bone in her body.

      She tamped a lid on her emotions. Panic had never solved her problems before; it wouldn’t now.

      Slowly she walked out, unlocked the glass doors then closed them behind. She’d worked late and on the weekends before, which meant the security guy had suspected nothing amiss. She’d strode into the building with her head held high, even tossing him a wave as she walked over to the executive elevator. But now, standing stock still inside the darkened office, trepidation fluttered in her belly.

      “Just get changed and leave,” she muttered to herself. “You can stall Max another couple of days.”

      Bolstered, she turned on the desk lamp and laid her key card on the filing cabinet. She checked the hallway then plucked a shirt from her locker and swung open Jake’s office door.

      She changed in the shadows, and just as quickly, she scanned his desk. The brochures she’d finally managed to give him lay open on the top. She glanced at the financials in his in tray.

      No. You can’t.

      Yet what could she do? It was either help Max or get fired. Despite her desperate need for the money, she genuinely loved working here. She’d carved a niche, made friends and garnered the respect of her colleagues. She prided herself on working hard and being professional, and Kimberley, for one, had noticed that.

      So professional you breached your employment contract and had sex with your boss.

      She swallowed, fighting with nerves until finally she made a decision. With a determined slant to her mouth, she strode around the desk and tried the drawers. Locked. She shuffled through the papers, flicked open the folders but came up empty-handed.

      Holly paused, her mind buzzing. Or perhaps it was the subtle hint of cologne, all male and all Jake, invading her senses that sent a shock of remembrance through her brain.

      Jake’s mouth, warm and needy on hers.

      Her breath shook on the way in. She stilled, listening in the stillness to the guilty beating of her heart.

      It was then that two things caught her attention: a tiny green light coming from the phone recharger on the edge of his desk. And the soft swoosh of the glass door opening in the outer office. He’d come back for his mobile phone.

      Panic clogged her throat. Think, think! With a held breath she quickly stepped from behind the desk and undid the buttons on her blue silk shirt. It hung open, showing a glimpse of her black satin bra, when Jake opened his office door.

      She didn’t have to fake a gasp as he swung the door wide. When he zeroed right in on her cleavage, she breathed a sigh of relief. Her smokescreen had worked.

      “I spilled wine on my shirt,” she hurried to explain. Yet when his eyes dragged over her skin, leaving it practically sizzling in his wake, she self-consciously tugged at the shirtfront, realising the danger of her situation.

      His hand stilled on the door handle. Light spilled around the frame, silhouetting his body in stark relief. To her chagrin the shadows also hid his expression. It didn’t hide the deep timbre in his soft statement, however.

      “Really.”

      She gestured to the windows covered with blinds. “Your office has coverage. I had a spare shirt in my locker….” She began buttoning it up, suddenly feeling stupid and exposed.

      “You left the closing show early?” she asked unnecessarily.

      “So did you.”

      He moved, walking into the small pool of light from the desk lamp. Shadows slashed across his face, illuminating the darkness and light of his features. An elegantly straight nose. The dark hooded brows. The angular cheekbones combined with a strong, almost glacial jawline.

      “Are you really here to change your shirt, Holly?”

      “I…I…” Think, Holly! Yes? No? Arrghh. Seeing her hope fading gradually away, she leaned back, bumping her bottom on the desk. That small movement commanded Jake’s eyes back to her open neckline, lingering. As his eyes dipped into a frown, she caught something else in their depths. Desire.