Kidnapped For The Tycoon's Baby. Louise Fuller

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Kidnapped For The Tycoon's Baby - Louise Fuller Mills & Boon Modern

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It had been an impressive display—unorthodox, but credible and provocative.

      Only not as provocative as the sight of her long slim legs and rounded bottom in tight black jeans, or the strip of smooth bare stomach beneath her T-shirt that he’d glimpsed when she reached over to the next table for a napkin.

      It wasn’t love at first sight.

      For starters, he didn’t believe in love.

      Only, watching her talk, he had been knocked sideways by lust, by curiosity, by the challenge in those blue eyes. By whatever it was that triggered sexual attraction between two people. It had been beyond his conscious control, and he’d had to struggle not to pull her across the table by the long dark hair spilling onto the shoulders of her battered leather jacket.

      But it was the dark blue velvet ribbon tied around her throat that had goaded his senses to the point where he had thought he was going to black out.

      Those eyes, that choker, had made up his mind. In other words, he’d let his libido hire her.

      It was the first time he’d ever allowed lust to dictate a business decision. And it would be the last, he thought grimly, glancing once again at the tersely written email she had sent him that morning. He gritted his teeth. If Ms Nola Mason was expecting him to pay more, she could damn well sing for it.

      Nola swallowed, shifting in her seat. Her heart was pounding, and she was struggling to stay calm beneath the battleship-grey of Ram’s scrutiny. Most CEOs were exacting and autocratic, but cyber security was typically an area in which the boss was almost always willing to hand over leadership to an expert.

      Only Ram was not a typical boss.

      Right from that first interview it had been clear that not only was his reputation as the enfant terrible of the tech industry fully justified, but that, unusually, he could also demonstrate considerably more than a working knowledge of the latest big data technologies.

      Truthfully, however, Ram’s intelligence wasn’t the only reason she found it so hard to confront him. His beauty, his innate self-confidence, and that still focus—the sense that he was watching her and only her—made her heart flip-flop against her ribs.

      Her blue eyes flickered across the boardroom table to where he sat, lounging opposite her. It might be shallow, but who wouldn’t be affected by such blatant perfection? And it didn’t help that he appealed on so many different levels.

      With grey eyes that seemed to lighten and darken in harmony with his moods, messy black hair, a straight nose, and a jaw permanently darkened with stubble, he might just as easily be a poet or a revolutionary as a CEO. And the hard definition of muscle beneath his gleaming white shirt only seemed to emphasise that contradiction even more.

      Dragging her gaze back up to his face, Nola felt her nerves ball painfully. The tension in his jaw told her that she was balancing on eggshells. Concentrate, she told herself—surely she hadn’t meant to imply that he was naive or complacent?

      ‘No, that’s not what I’m saying,’ she said quickly, ignoring the faint sigh of relief that echoed round the table as she did so. She drew in a deep breath. ‘What you’re actually being is arrogant, and unreasonable.’

      Somebody—she wasn’t sure who—gave a small whimper.

      For a fraction of a second Ram thought he might have misheard her. Nobody called him arrogant or unreasonable. But, glancing across at Nola, he knew immediately that he’d heard her correctly.

      Her cheeks were flushed, but she was eyeing him steadily, and he felt a flicker of anger and something like admiration. She was brave—he’d give her that. And determined. He knew his reputation, and it had been well and truly earned. His negotiating skills were legendary, and his single-minded ruthlessness had turned a loan from his grandfather into a global brand.

      A pulse began to beat in his groin. Normally she would be emptying her desk by now. Only the humming in his blood seemed to block out all rational thought so that he felt dazed, disorientated by her accusation. But why? What was it about this woman that made it so difficult for him to stay focused?

      He didn’t know. But whatever it was it had been instant and undeniable. When he’d walked into that coffee shop she had stood up, shaken his hand, and his body had reacted automatically—not just a spark but a fire starting in his blood and burning through his veins.

      It had been devastating, unprecedented. At the time he’d assumed it was because she was so unlike any of the other women of his acquaintance. Women who would sacrifice anything and anyone to fit in, to make their lives smooth. Women who chose conformity and comfort over risk.

      Nola took risks. That was obvious from the way she had dressed and behaved at her interview. He liked it that she broke the rules. Every single time he came into contact with her he liked it more—liked her more.

      And she liked him too.

      Only every single time she came into contact with him she gave him the brush-off. Or at least she tried too. But her eyes gave her away.

      As though sensing his thoughts, Nola glanced up and looked away, her hand rising protectively to touch her throat. Instantly the pulse in his groin began to beat harder and faster.

      He had never had to chase a woman before—let alone coax her into his bed. It was both maddening and unbelievably erotic.

      At the thought of Nola in his bed, wearing nothing but that velvet choker, he felt a stab of sexual frustration so painful that he had to grip the arms of his chair to stop himself from groaning out loud.

      ‘That’s a pretty damning assessment, Ms Mason,’ he said softly. ‘Obviously if I thought you were being serious we’d be having a very different conversation. So I’m going to assume you’re trying to shock me into changing my mind.’

      Nola took a breath. Her insides felt tight and a prickling heat was spreading up her spine. Could everyone else in the room feel the tension between her and Ram? Or was it all in her head?

      Stupid question. She knew it was real—and not just real. It was dangerous. Whatever this thing was between them, it was clearly hazardous—not only to her reason but to her instinct for self-preservation. Why else was she picking a fight with the boss in public?

      Abruptly he leaned forward, and as their eyes met she shivered. His gaze was so intent that suddenly it felt as though they were alone, facing each other like two Western gunslingers in a saloon bar.

      ‘Nice try! But I’m not that sensitive.’

      Without warning the intensity faded from his handsome features and, glancing swiftly round the room, she knew her anger must look out of place—petulant, even. No doubt that had been his intention all along: to make her look emotional and unprofessional.

      Gritting her teeth, she leaned back in her chair, trying to match his nonchalance.

      Watching her fingers curl into a fist around her pen, Ram smiled slowly. ‘I don’t know whether to be disappointed or impressed by you, Ms Mason. It usually takes people a lot less than two months to realise I’m arrogant and unreasonable. However, they don’t tend to say it to my face. Either way, though, I’m not inclined to change my mind. Or permit you to change yours. You see, I only have one thousand four hundred and forty minutes in any day, and I don’t like to waste them on ill-thought-out negotiations

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