The Seduction Business

Sniffing pointedly, Patricia went out and Bianca went over to the mirror on her wall to check on her appearance. Fortunately there were no hairs out of place in her blonde chignon, so she did not need to touch that, but her pale pink lipstick needed to be renewed, and there was a faint sheen of perspiration on her nose and temples, so she swiftly brushed loose powder over her foundation.

Appearance was half the battle with some men. She had researched Matt Hearne for some months, and knew he didn’t have a reputation as a lady-killer, but if he was like most men he would be staring at her while they talked and she wanted to make the right impression.

Her very feminine colouring, delicate-featured oval face and slender figure were in startling contrast to the businesslike navy blue pinstripe suit she was wearing.

She dressed that way whenever she had an important business meeting. In the beginning men had taken one look and begun talking indulgently, condescendingly, as though blonde hair and big green eyes must mean she was a ninny.

In her job, that male attitude was a nuisance. It wasted valuable time. It was boring having to fend off passes, and irritating that men did not take her seriously.

She had tried various ways of making men treat her with respect as a colleague or an opponent, and had found that wearing a man’s suit worked best.

It presented a conflicting visual impression which left men uncertain how to treat her, put them off their stride long enough for Bianca to have time to convince them she was no airhead and they should listen to her as attentively as they would listen to a man.

She collected her elaborately presented folder from the desk, glanced through it to make sure she had everything she would need, slid it into her black leather briefcase, before walking out to the lift on the landing outside her office.

TTO occupied most of this new, modern, luxury office block in the City of London. The offices in which Don Heston and his team of secretaries and assistants worked was on the thirtieth floor. Above that lay the roof garden, where they sometimes held summer barbecues for the staff, sunbathed, ate their sandwiches. On the same level was the elegant, expensively furnished apartment Don kept for himself or visiting VIPs from other countries in the world who did not want to stay in hotels.

He was waiting for her in his long black limousine on the forecourt of the building. A large, rugged man with curly brown hair sprinkled with silver, and hard, piercing brown eyes, he looked younger than he was because he worked out in the gym each day, played golf, swam, watched his diet and wore expensive, designer fashion in the latest styles.

Sliding into the back seat beside him, Bianca pretended not to notice as he ran his usual acquisitive stare over her.

‘You’re late.’

Her face was calm and unworried by the snapped accusation. ‘Sorry, Don. I was dictating when you rang.’

‘Done all your homework on this deal?’

‘Of course.’

He gave her a satisfied nod. ‘Good girl.’ Casually he shifted nearer till his knee touched hers, his eyes still roving over her from head to toe. ‘You know, that outfit should be a passion-killer—I usually hate to see women dressing as men—but you manage to look sexier than ever in it. Let’s hope Hearne thinks so; it would be very useful if he fell for you the way young Mistell did.’

She bit her inner lip. She did not want to remember Harry.

Don’s arm slid along the top of the seat behind her. Bianca felt his fingers trickle over her bare nape and stiffened.

‘Don’t,’ she muttered, not wishing his chauffeur to hear her, and moved forward to escape Don’s caress, relieved when his hand fell away from her skin and slipped back to his side, but his thigh was still close to hers as the car drove off.

He had been making passes at her ever since she started working for him, but so far she had always managed to keep him at bay. She knew he had had affairs with other women in the company and she had no intention of becoming one of that long list. But Don was a tenacious, determined man who never gave up and when he met a denial simply took a breath then came back again on the offensive. He never missed an opportunity to press an advantage, and never gave up.

It was irritating, but Bianca did not want to slap him down too hard. She respected Don’s brains, and liked him. But he was married, and as the child of divorced parents she hated the very idea of breaking up a marriage. She had rarely seen his wife and did not really know her at all. He was obviously no family man. He rarely seemed to be at his country home. Bianca was far too discreet to comment, but she remembered her own childhood well enough to know how his long absences must upset his children.

She enjoyed her job running the department which was actively engaged in seeking companies which the company could acquire with advantage. Bianca had to have a sound knowledge of the market values, the sometimes hidden assets of a company, the future potential which they would also often hide from acquisitive eyes.

Don gave her the sort of responsibility and power she had always dreamt of but never dared hope she would achieve. Women were rarely allowed to climb to the very top in business. This was still largely a man’s world. She knew she owed her chance to develop her financial skills to Don and was grateful to him.

Oh, no doubt he assumed she would pay the price he set on her job, but he hadn’t, so far, turned nasty when she refused to give in to his blatant desire for her.

‘Frigid little cat,’ he said now, but grinned as he said it, because he didn’t believe she was anything of the kind and still hoped to get her one of these days.

He had watched from the sidelines as she got involved with Harry; calculating that her relationship with Harry would help push through the deal with Lord Mistell, who adored his only son. The relationship had broken up when Harry heard gossip about her being Don’s mistress. Bianca had tried to make Harry believe it was all a lie, but he wouldn’t listen. White-faced and angry he had walked out of her life that night and she had not set eyes on him since.

‘You’re a married man, Don, and I’m not breaking up your marriage.’

‘I’ve told you—ours has always been a free and easy marriage. I go my way, she goes hers! Sara’s life is very busy; she has the children, her home, her dogs, the charity committees she works for—there wouldn’t even be room for me if I lived there full time.’

Bianca grimaced, wondering how true that was, but answering coolly, ‘The way you run your marriage is your business, but I am not the free and easy type. I don’t go in for adultery, it’s too messy.’

He laughed shortly. ‘You’re too old-fashioned to be true! But Matt Hearne is a widower, remember, and as free as the birds.’

‘This is a business lunch! You don’t expect me to use sex to get Matt Hearne to sign over his business, I hope!’

‘Use whatever works,’ said Don, sounding highly amused. ‘How many times have I told you that there’s no place for morals in business? The bottom line is money. Nothing else counts.’

‘Don’t be so cynical!’

‘I’m rational, not cynical. If we can get hold of Hearne’s new technology we’ll be coining money soon. It’s essential we get Hearne himself, though. He’s a genius. None of our researchers can touch him. We want him as well as his company.’

‘Then you talk him into signing!’

Don changed tack. ‘You know, the man must be pretty lonely. Since his wife died he hasn’t been seen with anyone else, I gather. That must mean he’s in need of some good sex, so I want you to be nice to him. Very, very nice, Bianca. If you know what I mean—and of course you do!’ He laughed uproariously.

She gave him an icy stare. ‘You may think that’s funny, Don, but I don’t! I’m not sleeping with him just to get him to sign that contract!’ Anger made the hair stir on the back of her neck. ‘Sex may be your answer to everything, but it isn’t mine. I have too much self-respect.’

They turned into the Savoy Hotel courtyard and the limousine slowed to a stop in front of the swing doors. The uniformed commissionaire moved forward to open the passenger door for Bianca to descend, so she leashed in her temper again as she got out of the car. She couldn’t have a row with her boss in front of a fascinated audience.

‘You’ve got no sense of humour,’ he murmured, following her through the hotel’s swing doors. ‘Lighten up, sweetheart! And keep smiling. We want to get Hearne’s signature on that contract, remember!’

Matt Hearne and a couple of his executives had already arrived, they were told, and were waiting in the River Room bar, sitting right in front of one of the famous art nouveau mirrors, with their coloured urns of flowers reflecting the light of the great chandeliers in the centre of the room.

‘There’s Hearne,’ Don said, striding forward, past the white piano occupying the centre of the long, wide room.

Bianca kept pace with him, aware of three pairs of eyes fixed on her but looking past them, into the mirror behind them. Her reflection moved to meet her in flowing graceful strides: the smooth blonde hair, the oval face, and then the pinstriped jacket, open to reveal the sexy way her waistcoat fitted her high breasts and slender waist. Across the front of it swung a gold watch-chain, moving with every step her long legs took.

She looked calmer than she felt. Don had made her angry and agitated, she was breathing too quickly, her colour high.

The waiting men rose to greet them. ‘Good to see you again, Matt,’ Don said, holding out his hand to one of them.

‘Hi, Don,’ the other man drawled lightly and derisively. Don was not one of his favourite people, Bianca instantly picked up, but then he wouldn’t be, would he? Matt Hearne had founded his own company which Don was now trying to acquire. They were hardly going to be friends.

Don introduced her a second later. Matt Hearne’s hand swallowed her own. His skin was cool, his grip firm but brief.

Bianca had seen photos of him but they had not prepared her for his physical presence, nor for the instant awareness of him she felt.

He had… She hesitated for the right description, then settled for magnetism. Yes, that was what he had. It glimmered in those bright, blue, mocking eyes. This was a man with charisma as well as sharp intelligence.

This was a moment she always felt deeply—the first seconds of a duel, facing the opponent over their drawn swords.

Sometimes you knew you would easily win. It was going to be a push-over.