An Offer She Can't Refuse

Darius knew when not to push—and he also knew he wasn’t going to give up so easily.

Mallika looked as if she was all set to leave, and he glanced at his watch. ‘It’s almost eight-thirty,’ he said. ‘I’m starving, and I’m sure you are too. D’you have time for a quick bite?’

Perhaps he could get to the bottom of her sudden withdrawal and convince her otherwise.

He was almost sure she was going to say yes, but then her phone pinged and she gave the display a harassed look.

‘I need to go,’ she said, her attention clearly torn between him and whoever had just messaged her. Her expression was distracted as she stood up hurriedly, her short curls swinging around her cheeks. ‘Thanks for being so nice about everything.’

She put her hand out, and Darius got to his feet as he took it. ‘Nice’ wasn’t the impression he wanted to leave her with. ‘Nice’ suggested she’d forget him the minute she stepped out of the hotel. And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

‘I’ll be in touch,’ he said, keeping her hand in his a fraction longer than strictly necessary.

She didn’t reply, but she blinked once, and he realised that she wasn’t quite as unaffected by him as she was pretending to be. It was a cheering thought, and he smiled as she walked away.

He’d found her intriguing—an unusual mix of the ultra-competent and the overcautious. And the attraction between them had been hot and instantaneous—if it hadn’t been a work meeting he would definitely have taken things further. As it was, he was forced to let her walk away with only a tepid assurance of being in touch later.

The smell of freshly baked bread wafted past, reminding Darius of how hungry he was. He glanced around. Eating alone had never appealed to him, and if he stayed Mallika’s boss might see him and come across to ask where Mallika was. He felt strangely protective of the intriguing woman he had only known for a couple of hours.

Mentally he ran through his options. Going home and ordering in. Calling up a friend and heading to a restaurant. Turning up at the excruciatingly boring corporate event he’d earlier declined.

The corporate event was the least appealing, but it would give him an opportunity to network with a bunch of people who could be useful to Nidas in the future. It wasn’t too far away, either, and if he left now he’d be able to get there, hang around for an hour or so and still get home in time to catch the last bulletin on his favourite news channel.

He was handing the attendant his valet parking ticket when he spotted Mallika getting into an expensive-looking chauffeur-driven car. She was talking on the phone, and he caught a few words before the doorman closed the door for her and the car zoomed off.

‘I’ll be home in twenty minutes,’ she was saying. ‘I told you I had a meeting, Aryan. No, I haven’t decided. I’ll talk to you later …’

Whoever Aryan was, he sounded like a possessive control freak. Darius frowned. He hadn’t asked Mallika, but he could have sworn she wasn’t married. No mangalsutra necklace or rings—but lots of married women didn’t wear those. And the way she’d looked at him for that one instant …

Darius shook himself. He was rarely wrong about these things, but meeting Mallika seemed to have seriously addled his brains. He was missing the obvious. She’d hardly have asked him to pretend to be her date if her boss knew that she had a husband.

Restored to his normal confidence once he’d figured that out, he tipped the valet parking attendant lavishly as he got into his car. Not married, and probably not in a serious relationship either. Hopefully this Aryan was her interior decorator, or her tax advisor, or someone equally inconsequential.

‘What d’you mean, she wasn’t interested?’

‘She doesn’t want to change jobs,’ Darius explained patiently.

He and Venkat had joined the Nidas Group on the same day, and had spent the last decade setting up the businesses they now headed. Darius was the stable, intelligent one—the brains behind most of what they’d achieved together. Venkat was a typical sales guy—competitive, pushy, and notoriously impatient. Outside of work he and Darius were close personal friends, but right now Venkat’s expression was that of a bulldog being asked to let go of a particularly juicy bone.

‘Why does she not want to change jobs? Did you tell her how much we’re willing to pay?’

‘I did,’ Darius said. ‘She said she doesn’t need the money.’

‘You need to meet her again,’ Venkat said flatly. ‘I have absolutely no clue about this fund management stuff, and if you’re leaving we’ll go under before you know it. This girl’s really good, and she seemed keen until she met you. I’d have thought it would be the exact opposite—girls usually fall for you on first sight. What in heaven’s name did you do to put her off?’

‘Told her that she’d be working with a bunch of total scumbags,’ Darius said, deadpan. ‘Look, I’m not prepared to let her go, either, but it will be better to give her some time to think things over and change her mind. I’ll make it happen. But in the meantime I’ve got a bunch of other CVs from HR. Some of them with equally impressive track records.’

Venkat grunted. ‘I’ll go through the CVs, but you need to work your magic with this girl. Otherwise you can jolly well put your exciting plans on hold and stay here until you can find someone to replace you. I’m terrible at all this HR sort of stuff—you’re the one who gets everyone eating out of your hand. Make this Mallika an offer she can’t refuse.’

Darius bit back a sigh. Once Venkat decided he wanted something he was like an unstoppable force of nature.

‘I’m a businessman, not a Mafia don,’ he said drily. ‘Let me do it my way. I have an idea on how to win her …’

CHAPTER TWO (#u8b317bbb-be00-5a17-9e2b-3030a03ef836)

THE FLAT WAS DARK when Mallika let herself in, and she felt a familiar pang of loss as she put the lights on and surveyed the empty living room. Nothing was the same without her parents, and having a brother who’d completely retreated into his shell emphasised her loneliness rather than reduced it.

It had been a gruelling week. Her job involved meeting builders and visiting construction sites and then spending hours hunched over her computer, calculating the possible return she’d get from each investment she made for her fund.

The Mumbai property market had been at its volatile best these last few months, and investors were wary. Which meant that there was a risk of projects stalling—which in turn meant that buyers who’d already invested found themselves with large amounts of capital locked up and no hope of returns in the short term. And the fund that Mallika worked for was seriously considering stopping investment in properties that were under construction.

The kitchen was dark as well. The cook would have gone home some hours ago, leaving dinner out in microwaveable dishes for Mallika and Aryan. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but dinner was the only meal she could make sure her brother actually ate.

The lights in his room were on, and she knocked before entering.

‘Aryan? Dinner?’ she asked, her heart twisting as she watched him hunch over his laptop. It was as if he didn’t see the world around him any more, finding reality in the flickering screen of his computer instead.

‘In a minute,’ he said, not even looking up.

‘Did you have lunch?’ she asked, and he shrugged.

‘Lalita gave me something,’ he said. ‘You go ahead and eat—you must be tired.’

It was a measure of how little she expected from him that she actually felt pleased he’d realised how exhausted she was. Leaving him to his computer, she went back to the kitchen—she’d make sure he had something to eat later.

For the last couple of days she’d not been able to get Darius out of her head. The way he’d looked at her, his smile, his voice—it felt as if she’d spent hours with him rather than just a few minutes.

He’d said he’d be in touch, but two days had gone by and he hadn’t called. Maybe he’d found someone else more suitable for the role. Someone who didn’t spot their boss and freak out halfway through a discussion, or run out on him without warning.

Idly she opened the contact list in her phone and stated scrolling down it. Darius Mistry. She had his mobile number and his email ID, and the temptation to drop him a text or a short email was huge. She could apologise once again for running out on him. Or tell him that she’d changed her mind about the job.

When it came to professional communications she was confident and practical, but somehow with Darius she found herself prevaricating. Her shyness prevented her from getting in touch for anything other than strictly business reasons.

She was still mulling things over when her phone rang, and she almost dropped it in surprise.

‘I was just thinking about you,’ she blurted out, and then blushed furiously. Darius was probably already convinced of her weirdness—she didn’t need to make it worse. ‘I mean … I was just thinking over what you said about this being the right stage in my career to change jobs …’

‘Reconsidering, I hope?’ he said smoothly, and went on without waiting for her to answer. ‘Look, I know you’ve said you’re not interested, but I’ve interviewed around a dozen completely unsuitable people and I’d really like a chance to pitch the job to you again. Preferably in a place where your boss isn’t likely to land up and ruin my sales pitch.’

One part of her felt disappointed that he hadn’t called just to speak to her, but she shook herself crossly. Of course his interest in her was purely professional. What had got into her?

‘I’m really not interested in changing jobs, Darius,’ she said, firmly suppressing the little voice in her head that told her to go and meet him anyway. ‘And I’ve wasted your time once already—I wouldn’t want to do it again.’

Darius briefly considered telling Mallika that time spent with her would definitely not be wasted, but he bit the words back. This wasn’t a seduction, and he’d already made it clear that when it came to business he was as determined as she to get what he wanted.

‘It’s part of my job,’ he said lightly. ‘Even if you don’t want to join us now, at least I’ll get to tell you about the company—and who knows? Maybe you’ll want to join at some later time.’

‘All right, then,’ Mallika conceded. ‘When shall I meet you?’