Secrets In The Boardroom: A Perfect Husband / The Boss's Secret Mistress / Between the CEO's Sheets

Four (#ud90b6dcb-865b-5101-8c13-a633e6e6da34)

Ten days later, Zane stepped into the darkened offices of The Atraeus Group’s newest acquisition, Ambrosi Pearls in Sydney. He took the antique elevator, which matched the once-elegant facade of the building, to the top floor.

It was almost midnight; most of the building was plunged into darkness. Zane, who was more used to mining and construction sites and masculine boardrooms, shook his head in bemusement as he strolled into Lucas’s office. The air was perfumed; the decor white-on-white. It looked like it had been designed for the editor of a high-end fashion magazine. He noted there was actually a pile of glossy fashion magazines on one end of the curvy designer desk.

Lucas turned from his perusal of downtown Sydney. His hair was ruffled as if he’d run his fingers through it, and his tie was askew. He looked as disgruntled as Zane felt coming off a long flight from Florida.

Zane checked his watch. It was midnight. By his calculations he had been awake almost thirty-six hours. “Why the cloak-and-dagger?”

Lucas stripped off his tie and stuffed the red silk into his pocket. “I’ve decided to marry Carla. The press is already on the hunt. I’ve been trying to do a little damage control, but Lilah’s going to come under pressure.”

Zane’s tiredness evaporated. Now the midnight meeting at the office made sense. Lucas’s apartment had probably been staked out by the press. “I thought you and Lilah were over.”

If he had thought anything else he would not have gone back to Florida to close the land deal. He would have sent someone else.

Lucas paced to the desk, checked the screen of an ice-cream pink cell as if he was waiting for a text, then rifled through a drawer. He came up with a business card. “We are over, but try telling that to the press.”

He scribbled a number on the card. “Lilah came to my apartment. She was followed.”

Zane took the card. If he thought he had controlled the possessive jealousy that had eaten into him ever since Constantine’s wedding, in that moment he knew he was wrong. “What was Lilah doing at your apartment?”

Lucas frowned at the pink cell as if something about it was stressing him to the max. “I’m not sure. Carla was there. Lilah left before I could talk to her. The point is, I need you to mind her for me again.”

In terse sentences, Lucas described how a reporter had snapped photos of him kissing Carla out on the sidewalk, with Lilah looking on. The pictures would be published in the morning paper.

Every muscle in Zane’s body tensed at the knowledge that Lucas and Lilah were still connected, even if it was only by scandal.

During Constantine’s wedding, which Lilah had attended because she had not been able to get a flight out until the following Monday, she had made it clear she was “off” all things Atraeus. Zane had not enjoyed being shut out, but at least he’d had the satisfaction of knowing Lilah was over Lucas.

He wondered what had changed her mind to the extent that she had actually gone to Lucas’s apartment. Grimly, he controlled the cavemanlike urge to grab Lucas by his shirtfront, shove him against the wall and demand that he leave Lilah Cole alone. “She won’t like it.”

Lucas’s expression was distracted. “She’ll adjust. She’s being well compensated.”

Zane went still inside. “How, exactly?”

Lucas shuffled papers. “The usual currency. Money, promotion.”

Zane could feel his blood pressure rocketing. “Carla won’t like that.”

“Tell me about it.” Lucas shot him a tired grin. “Women. It’s a juggling act.”

And one in which Lucas, with his killer charm, had always excelled.

Suspicion coalesced into certainty. Despite the engagement to Carla, Zane was certain that Lilah was still in the picture for Lucas. Maybe he had it all wrong, but he couldn’t allow himself to forget that Lucas had bought Lilah an engagement ring.

He could still see the catalog picture Elena had shown him. The solitaire had been large and flawless. Personally, he had thought the chunky diamond had been a mistake. He would have chosen something antique and lavish, maybe with a few emeralds on the side to match her eyes.

Zane’s jaw clenched against the fiery urge to demand to know why, now that Lucas was engaged to Carla, he couldn’t leave Lilah Cole alone.

Irrelevant question. Atraeus men had a long, well-publicized history of womanizing. He should know; he was the product of a liaison.

Letting out a breath, Zane forced himself to relax. “How long do you want me to mind her this time?”

Lucas shrugged. “The weekend. Long enough to get her through the media frenzy that’s going to break following the announcement at the press conference—” he checked his watch “—today.”

Zane’s temper frayed at the possessive concern in Lucas’s voice. “Sure. We got on okay on Medinos.” He drilled Lucas with another cold look. “I think she likes me.”

Lucas looked relieved. “Great, I owe you one. I know Lilah isn’t your normal type.”

Zane’s brows jerked together. “What do you mean, not my type?”

Lucas placed his briefcase on the desk and began loading files into it. “Lilah’s into classical music; she’s arty. I think she paints.”

“She does. I like art and classical music.”

He snapped the case closed. “She’s older.”

Lucas made the age gap sound like an unbridgeable abyss. “Five years is not a big gap.”

Lucas’s cell broke into a catchy tango.

Jaw compressed, Zane watched as Lucas snatched up the phone. “Nice tune. Bolero.”

Lucas shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. This is my secretary’s phone. Mine’s, uh, broken.” He held the cell against his ear and lifted a hand in dismissal. “Hey, thanks.”

“Not a problem.” Jaw taut, Zane took the creaking elevator to the ground floor. If he had stayed in the office with Lucas much longer he might have lost his temper. He had learned long ago that losing control was the equivalent of losing, and with Lilah Cole he did not intend to lose.

He had to focus, concentrate.

A whole weekend. Two days, and nights.

With a woman so committed to marriage she had written a blueprint for success and developed a points system for the men who had scored highly enough to make it into her folder.

Lilah slid dark glasses onto the bridge of her nose and braced herself as she stepped out of her taxi into the midmorning heat of downtown Sydney. Two steps toward the impressive doors of the hotel where the press conference was being held, and a maelstrom of flashing cameras and shouted questions broke over her.

Cheeks hot with embarrassment, she tightened her grip on the ivory handbag that matched her stylish suit, and plowed forward. Someone tugged at the sleeve of her jacket; a flash blinded her. A split second later the grip on her arm and the reporter were miraculously removed, replaced by the burly back of a uniformed security guard. The mass of reporters parted and Zane Atraeus’s dark gaze burned into hers, oddly calm and assessing in the midst of chaos. Despite her determination to remain calm in his presence, to forget the kiss, a hot thrill shot down her spine.

“Lilah, come with me.”

For a split second she thought he had said, “Lilah, come to me,” and the vivid intensity of her reaction to the low, husky command was paralyzing.

She had already had two negative experiences with Atraeus males. Now wasn’t the time to redefine that old cliché by fantasizing about jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire, again.

The media surged against the wall of security, an elbow jabbed her back. She clutched Zane’s outstretched hand. He released her fingers almost immediately and scooped her against his side, his muscled heat burning into her as they walked.

Three swift steps. The glass doors gleamed ahead. A camera flashed. “Oh, good. More scandal.”

She caught the edge of Zane’s grin. “That’s what you get when you play with an Atraeus.”