Powerful Persuasion

Nor did he resume his seat; instead he sat on the edge of his desk facing her, hands supporting him on either side, long legs outstretched. He was so close that she could smell the discreet, expensive aftershave he wore and it added to the drugging of her senses. No man had ever affected her like this, not so suddenly, not so violently—not against her will! Not even Andrew whom she had thought that she loved.

There was a pain in her chest where her heart pounded, a tightening of her throat, and she looked up at him and felt frightened. ‘I—I can’t take this job, Mr Segurini’

‘And why not, Celena?’ A smile curved his lips though it did not reach his eyes, revealing his displeasure at her refusal.

‘I need to find out whether it’s true what you say about Hillier and Jones.’

‘And when you find it is, what excuse will you use then?’

Celena drew in a deep breath. ‘It’s all very irregular, Mr Segurini. I cannot help feeling suspicious.’

‘Are you saying the extra money would not be useful?’ His voice was deep and disconcerting, sending shivers down her spine and uneasy sensations to the pit of her stomach.

‘I guess money is always useful,’ she admitted, ‘but it’s not always the answer.’ And why the hell was she procrastinating? Why didn’t she jump in with both feet and take his offer? Lord, she was a fool.

He pushed himself away from the desk and moved to the back of her chair, resting his hands on it and lowering himself so that his mouth was close to her ear. ‘You’re an amazing woman, Celena Coulsden.’

The soft words vibrated through every limb, through every nerve. She knew what he was doing—he was using his sensuality, confident that he would get through to her this way.

Fear struck. Surely he hadn’t guessed that she already felt an unnerving response? Surely she hadn’t given herself away? No, she was confident that she hadn’t. He was playing games, certain that he would come out on top.

She moved quickly, pushing herself to her feet, dodging away from him. ‘This is a very unorthodox interview, Mr Segurini.’

‘I’m an unorthodox man.’ It was a low growl, coming from somewhere deep in his throat. It set Celena’s whole body tingling.

‘Do you always use your sex appeal to get what you want?’ She kept her voice cool, her chin high. Since Andrew she had had plenty of practice at keeping the wolves at bay. She had a classically beautiful face with high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes and a wide, generous mouth, and these combined with her willowy figure and her thick auburn hair made her the target of many men’s attention. She had got used to fending off their advances and now she gave Luciano Segurini one of her most damning looks.

His mouth twitched at the corners. ‘Was that what I was doing?’

‘It looked very much like it to me,’ she retorted crossly.

‘I wasn’t aware of the fact.’

‘Really?’ she asked disbelievingly.

‘I think your imagination is working overtime,’ he told her as he slid into the chair that she had vacated and put his feet up on the edge of the desk. ‘However, if I’m getting through to you, if I’m managing to persuade you that you would be doing both yourself and me a favour by taking this job, then it’s not a bad thing.’ He folded his arms and looked totally relaxed.

Celena was not deceived; he was still in complete command of the situation, though she was glad of the few feet that were now between them, and more especially of the advantage his sitting down had given her. She looked at him coldly. ‘You’re not getting through to me. As a matter of fact your behaviour is convincing me that I would be making a fatal mistake in accepting your offer.’

He frowned and sprang to his feet, his movements fluid despite the anger that surged through him. ‘My sincere apologies, Miss Coulsden. I thought the informality would help. Obviously I was wrong.’ He returned to his side of the desk and stood looking at her, and there was nothing now on his face to suggest that this was anything other than a normal job interview.

‘And you were wrong in assuming I would jump at this opportunity,’ she declared fiercely. ‘I think we have nothing further to say. Good morning, Mr Segurini.’ And even the fact that she knew she would regret her hastiness later did not make her change her mind.

To her amazement he let her go; he let her walk out of the room without saying another word, and when she got back to her office and made a few discreet enquiries she discovered that every word Luciano Segurini had said was true. It looked as though she was going to be jobless and penniless and Davina would definitely have to pull out of her school. The thought both saddened and distressed her.

* * *

That evening when she got home from work there was an enormous bouquet of white roses awaiting her. She picked them up from the doorstep and looked curiously at the card.

To the most amazing woman I have ever met. The offer is still open if you should change your mind. I will be in touch.

It was not signed—it did not have to be—and while Celina was relieved, financially, that she might be offered the job all over again she groaned inwardly at the thought that there could be another confrontation with the most amazing man she had ever met. So far she had told no one of her experience, having used the excuse of a dental appointment to cover her absence, and now she opened the door and moved inside.

When her parents had died she had sold their draughty Victorian house in Norfolk and moved nearer to London and her job, and this cosy mews house suited her very well. If it hadn’t been for Davina’s school fees she would have managed quite comfortably—as things stood it was a definite struggle.

She dropped the flowers on the kitchen worktop, contemplating whether to relegate them to the dustbin. If she dared put them in a vase they would be a constant reminder of the man who had had such a profound effect on her in such a short space of time. She took a shower and slipped into a comfortable jade-green silk jumpsuit

She prepared her evening meal—cold chicken left over from Sunday, with a green salad and new potatoes—and still the sweet-smelling roses lay where she had left them. She had just finished eating when the doorbell rang. As she was constantly being pestered by callers Celena was tempted not to answer—until it rang again and whoever it was kept a finger on the button.

Normally before opening the door Celena made sure that the safety chain was in place. On this occasion, however, she snatched it open without even thinking, intent on giving whoever it was a piece of her mind. Her mouth fell open. ‘Mr Segurini! What are you doing here?’

He smiled unnervingly. ‘I’m checking that my flowers arrived safely.’

Celena’s eyes were guarded. ‘A phone call would have sufficed. And yes, they have, thank you very much, though I can’t think why you sent them.’

‘I hope you like white roses.’ His thickly fringed eyes made a slow and thorough appraisal of her body, starting at the tip of her pink-painted toenails, rising slowly, pausing fractionally on her breasts, and again on her mouth, then coming to a complete halt when they reached her eyes.

Celena felt breathless. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. They were her favourite, though he couldn’t have known that.

‘It’s a pity that when one orders flowers one never actually gets to see them.’

‘If you’re after an invite into my house then you’re out of luck.’ She desperately tried to quell the surging of her senses. He had changed into a pair of lightweight blue trousers and a matching cashmere sweater, the casual clothes emphasising his hard-muscled body, making him an even more dangerous adversary. Her mind might tell her that he was not to be trusted, but her body certainly had no such reservations.

‘I thought perhaps we could go out for a drink, get to know each other better, discuss my offer in more detail.’ He smiled as he spoke, his brown eyes still intent on hers.

The audacity of the man! Celena’s heart leapt but she made herself frown, saying crossly, ‘Don’t you ever take no for an answer?’

‘Not if I really want something.’

‘And you want me?’ It was the wrong thing to have said; she felt a flush coming to her cheeks, which was insane—she hadn’t blushed in years. Celena decided to rephrase her question. ‘I mean, you want me to work for you?’

His lips twitched as he recognised her discomfiture. ‘You’re perfect for the job.’

‘I think there’s more to it,’ she retorted.

He frowned. ‘What ever gave you that idea?’

‘Your insistence, for one thing.’

‘And for another?’

‘Feminine intuition.’ Her tone was cool. She had herself in control now.

He smiled. ‘Ah, that.’

‘Yes, that,’ she snapped. ‘Are you denying that I am right?’

‘It’s an interesting theory. How about we go out and discuss it?’