Back In The Boss's Bed

There was a pause. ‘Why don’t we start with you telling me something about yourself,’ he said unexpectedly.

Something in the way he said it threatened her equilibrium. It sounded like the kind of question a man asked on a date, when he wanted to get to know you better, and this was certainly no date. ‘Like what?’

He wanted to know what her golden hair would look like when it was freed to tumble down over the luscious swell of her breasts. He wanted to know if she cried out when she came. He wanted…‘Why, your job history, of course,’ he replied evenly.

Some distracting darkening in his eyes made it difficult for her to concentrate. She swallowed. ‘I went into the City, straight from university, stayed in my first job for three years and was working for Edwards, Inc. when Grandfather got ill—and the rest you know. The usual route.’

He said nothing for a moment. Usual for most people, maybe—and especially for privileged little princesses like Kiloran Lacey. Nothing like his own hard, clawing journey up the ladder.

‘I see.’ He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he watched her. ‘Well, you obviously have some experience—’

‘You sound surprised!’ she observed.

He ignored that. ‘And we’re going to need to establish the full extent of the embezzlement. Obviously. And then evolve some kind of strategy to resolve it. Aren’t we, Kiloran?’

Despite her good intentions to remain cool and professional, Kiloran found it hard not to squirm beneath that grey-eyed scrutiny. It didn’t help that he was making her feel incompetent, and neither did it help that he was so overpoweringly attractive.

He was making her aware of herself in a way which was quite alien to her. Since when had her breasts begun to ache and tingle just because some man’s eyes had flickered over them in casual assessment? And why was she suddenly and acutely conscious that, beneath her dress, she had nothing covering her bottom other than a tiny and ridiculously insubstantial thong?

Her pulse beat strong and heavy, like a dull hammer at her wrists and temple. ‘Wh-what do you want to know?’ she asked from between parched lips, wondering if he had this effect on everyone.

‘You can help me by giving me a few salient facts.’

‘Like what?’

‘Tell me about Eddie Peterhouse. How long he worked for Lacey’s—general stuff.’

‘He’d been with the company five years—’

His eyes bored into her. ‘And you joined—when?’

‘Two years ago.’

Adam gave a humourless smile. ‘Which was around about the time the theft started.’

The accusation buzzed unsaid in the air around them. ‘What are you implying?’ she said shakily.

He didn’t answer, not straight away. Let her work out the implication for herself. ‘What did he look like?’

She narrowed her eyes at him in bemusement and gave her head a little shake. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

The movement meant that he could see the tight thrust of her nipples pushing against the thin green silk, and the erotic thoughts which came tumbling into his head made it hard to concentrate. Hard being the operative word, he acknowledged grimly as he felt his body react to her unmistakable beauty. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one little bit. He shifted in his chair.

‘The police will want a description—’

‘But you’re not the police,’ she objected.

‘Are you going to answer my question or not, Kiloran?’ he snapped, and the grey eyes glittered like a winter sea. ‘I asked you what he looked like.’

Bizarrely, she felt like throwing something at him and waltzing straight out of the boardroom, as if she were some reactive, emotional child. But she was not a child, and she did not have the luxury of being able to act on her emotions. She took a deep, steadying breath instead.

‘He was tall.’

‘You could be a little more specific than that?’ he drawled. ‘How tall?’

To her absolute horror, she heard herself saying, ‘Not as tall as you.’

He gave a cynical smile. ‘Not many men are,’ he said, matter-of-factly. ‘Again, specifics might be a little bit more helpful.’

She ran her tongue over her lips. ‘Just over six feet, I guess.’ He was still waiting. ‘Fair hair. Blue eyes…’ Her voice tailed off.

‘Go on,’ he urged obscurely. ‘Was he in good shape?’

She only just prevented herself from saying, Not compared to you, but thank God she bit that back in time. Instead, she shrugged, as if she hadn’t given it much thought at all—which in truth she hadn’t. ‘He was okay. He drank a little too much beer, but a lot of men do.’

‘Did you find him attractive, Kiloran?’

She stared at him. ‘What did you say?’

‘You heard. Did you?’

‘No, of course I didn’t! Why on earth should you ask me something as outrageous and insulting as that?’

‘There’s no “of course” about it,’ he stated flatly. ‘And neither is it outrageous or insulting. Human nature is very predictable and it’s a classic scenario, I’m afraid. A man flatters a woman into thinking he’s in love with her. And suddenly she’s putty in his hands. Is that what happened, Kiloran? Did he seduce you? Ply you with pretty words and compliments? Maybe even take you to bed? Were you willing to put everything in his hands without bothering to check it out? Because that’s what sometimes happens when a woman is in thrall of her lover.’

The crude way in which he was talking was having the most disastrous consequences. She could feel her palms growing wet and sticky as he purred out things like ‘take you to his bed’. Was that why her heart was racing, because she was imagining him taking her to bed? She got to her feet and deliberately looked right down her nose at him. ‘I don’t have to listen to another word of this!’

‘Sit down!’

‘No, I won’t sit down!’ She stayed standing, the position of being able to look down on him giving her a brief feeling of superiority. ‘Does my grandfather know the kind of interrogation you’re subjecting me to?’ she demanded coolly. ‘Do you think he would stand for it?’

‘Go ahead—ask him.’ He shrugged.

‘I don’t think you’d like that for a moment, Mr Black. He’d have you out of here so fast you’d—’

‘I don’t think so,’ he interrupted icily. ‘He gave me a free rein and I intend using it.’ But his words conjured up uncomfortably provocative images involving Kiloran on horseback, wearing a tight pair of jodhpurs, and he pushed them away with an almighty effort. ‘I need to know whether you let your emotions cloud your judgement, that’s all, Kiloran.’

She was about to blurt out that she never let emotions cloud her judgement, until she realised that she would be completely contradicting herself. She didn’t blurt. She didn’t react. She was calm and cool—so what the hell was happening to her? Quite the opposite. From the moment he had walked in here she had done nothing but react. To him. And it was time she stopped.

She sat down again, all the fire taken out of her, sucking in a deep breath and hoping it would steady her racing heart. ‘For your information, no—I did not find him attractive.’

‘Charming?’

‘He was not without charm, no,’ she admitted carefully.

‘Good-looking?’

He was being so persistent! Eddie Peterhouse had regular features and had dressed in handmade Italian clothes, cleverly cut to disguise the slight swell of his beer-belly, but compared to Adam Black…‘Not particularly.’