a lick of fury from sparking in his belly.
Slowly he forced his fists to unclench.
“So…” Max said, tearing his eyes away, “I’d better be going. Nice to meet you, Jake.”
Jake glared at Max’s retreating back. He had no right to be angry. What Holly did or didn’t do on her own time was not his business. She was Jake’s assistant, for heaven’s sakes, not his lover.
Pity.
Shaking off the jolt that felt like fire on his skin—especially in one particular part—he turned to Holly. “Charming guy.”
“Some people think so. I just need his signature on my transfer.”
“After you finish with me,” he murmured, suddenly taken by the way her skin flushed underneath her cool mask of indifference.
She nodded and finally sat, checking her watch. “Yes. And you have thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes for what?” He grinned, unable—or was that unwilling?—to keep the suggestiveness from his voice.
She blinked, clearly flustered. “Until your conference call with New York.”
He gave her full points for maintaining that composure as they finished their meal in silence. But deep inside, on a purely predatory level, his mind registered the undeniable heat of desire.
Fool. It wasn’t his mind that wanted Holly. It was something much more primal.
And what Jake Vance wanted, he usually got.
Four
Jake left his meeting with Kimberley Perrini with newfound respect. Despite his reluctance, Kim still pushed the idea of bringing Holly into their cone of silence. “She was the spin behind the Shipley University scandal, not to mention some of our internal issues. We’re lucky to have her,” Kim had said.
Grudgingly he had to agree. And if the press started running with pictures of him at Blackstone’s, he knew exactly where to lay the blame.
Meanwhile, his security chief was busy compiling a list of enemies and disgruntled employees and their possible sources within Blackstone’s. Matt Hammond had been suggested then discarded. No proof, plus the man got his fair share of negative press, too. Shareholders? No, too much to lose.
So he was back once again to a person Howard had personally offended.
And that’s where it got confusing. Holly had had no direct contact with Howard. Blackstone’s had put her through university. Outwardly, she was passionate about and dedicated to her job. She genuinely liked working here. Yet she was broke and floundering under a mountain of debt, and could still afford rent, food, clothes.
Was she that good an actress?
A shot of heat started low and crept up his body. Hazardous, thinking about Holly McLeod. Because if he did that, he’d have to acknowledge how paper-thin his control was. Instead of quenching his fire, his suspicion only stoked the flames higher, creating a burning need that was slowly dominating his every thought.
You have to stop thinking about her.
With a sharp snap, he opened the file in front of him and focused on Ryan’s scrawling signature at the bottom of the page.
Jake leaned back in his chair. Underneath the stubbornness, the pride, he’d sensed Ryan’s private pain. Only a close family member could hurt so deeply, scar so indelibly. Ryan refused to toe the line, said what he felt.
There’s a lot of me in him.
Jake couldn’t go back and change the past. God knows he would’ve tried years ago. He’d even admitted as much to Ryan. I can’t be angry at the woman who saved my life, who raised me as best she could. Who loved me. A lot of kids don’t even get that.
He’d hit an unexpected nerve with that, judging by the look on Ryan’s face. And when he’d offered up the signed statutory declaration, formalizing his verbal promise to keep Blackstone’s afloat, surprise had rendered Ryan speechless.
Jake sighed, suddenly tired of justifying something he himself couldn’t explain. Hell, there were a lot of things that would send his legal department into a spin if they only knew. For instance, last night he’d made a nice little profit on the NASDAQ, an event that would’ve normally brought him the usual adrenaline rush of satisfaction and pleasure. So how come it felt…less than a total rush?
He stood and stalked over to the small kitchenette in the corner of the office, tapping out his impatience as the coffee machine slowly dripped out the expensive Colombian blend.
Finally.
He grabbed the pot, pouring a cup that was one of many that day, forcing away his doubts with the first scalding sip.
You’re doing the right thing, keeping a professional distance from the Blackstones. Getting emotionally involved can only mean disaster.
He’d fix Blackstone’s, turn it around. That’s what he did. He needed to seal this deal, to finish it, so he could get back to his life. A life that suddenly gaped wide, filled with hours of solitary existence.
He frowned and made his way over to the window, staring down at the Sydney CBD. It had changed over the years. He’d been an angry teenager alone in a huge concrete metropolis— a dangerous, exhilarating place for a small-town kid with something to prove. Over the years, through many major developments— some he himself had engineered—Sydney had grown and thrived. It was physical proof of his enormous success. Proof he was no longer the rebellious, stupid kid from the bush.
He sighed. He’d worked hard and long for all he had, steadily erasing that deep dark place in his heart, in his memory. He’d been doing fine until a week ago.
He turned away from the view as he rolled his neck. He needed a distraction. Yet when he glanced back at the financials on the desk, the paper blurred before his eyes. He needed something…warmer.
In the past, sex had taken the edge off, had enabled him to refocus and re-energise. And suddenly, all he could think about was a smart mouth and a kissy-mole.
He shoved his cup across the desk and coffee sloshed over the rim. With a low growl of frustration, he rubbed at the spreading stain.
Damn Blackstone’s and its employees. He slouched into his chair and swivelled back to the window, searching for the familiar angles of AdVance Corp past the metallic curve of the Harbour Bridge, but when he found it, a stab of unfamiliar doubt hit him in the gut.
That’s stupid. Amateur. Irrational. He’d made billions. He regularly dealt with Middle-Eastern kings and oil barons, dined with the cream of society, both here and overseas.
You’re so far out of their league, you’re off the planet.
He squeezed his eyes shut, so tight that silver spots danced behind his lids. There was no way those old fears were going to psyche him out.
They’re Aussie royalty, and you’re just the bastard son of an alcoholic mother.
Jake
