British Bachelors: Rich and Powerful. Nina Harrington
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‘Was that the reason you quit your job?’
Sucking in a steadying breath as the memory of the shameful betrayal that had finally forced her to leave washed over her, she gazed into Drake’s eyes with an unwavering furious stare.
‘No. At least, it wasn’t the main one. In another stupidly weak moment I let him persuade me to invest all my savings in a deal that was a total scam from start to finish. When I lost every penny, he shrugged as if he couldn’t care less and said, “That’s the business we’re in, Layla. It’s all about risk. Sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. You should have known that … silly girl.” He wasn’t wrong there.’ She shook her head bitterly. ‘I was silly … Let me rephrase that. I was utterly and unforgivably stupid. My common sense deserted me. But at the time I invested in his deal I’d long grown tired of the soulless nature of my job and my boss. I was desperate to leave. I wanted to retrain as a youth worker or something along those lines instead … something that could be of use to people. But I knew if I was going to study I’d need money to support myself. That’s why I fell for my boss’s expert sales pitch. I thought that because he’d reached the heights as a broker, and made a lot of money by speculating and taking risks himself, he must know what he was doing. I never thought for one minute that he might take me to the cleaners because I only slept with him once and refused to do so again. It’s amazing what we can convince ourselves of when we’re desperate, isn’t it?’
‘I’m sorry.’
The comment sounded genuinely compassionate, and Drake’s firm grip on her arms gentled.
‘Not half as sorry as I am. I know one thing for sure. I’ll never make a decision out of desperation again.’
‘You did nothing wrong, Layla. It’s your low-life ex-boss that needs hanging out to dry.’
‘Anyway …’ She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. ‘You live and learn, as my dad always used to say. Are you going to answer my question now, Drake?’
Withdrawing his hands, he pressed his fingers deep against his temples. For the first time since he’d appeared in the outer office she noticed the softly bruised shadows beneath his eyes that denoted his previous night’s lack of sleep.
‘I’ve been giving it some serious thought.’
Not brave enough to prompt him, Layla neither moved nor spoke.
Lifting his strong cut-glass jaw, Drake gave her one of his searing, compelling glances. ‘I want you Layla. I’m sure you know that only too well by now. You’re like a fever in my blood that I can’t recover from. So I’ve decided that I will give you more access than I’ve given to any other woman before and let you get to know me a little. But I want to make it clear that that doesn’t mean there’ll be no holds barred—because it’s quite likely there will be.’ The glitter in his eyes that followed this statement was almost fierce. ‘I don’t share my feelings or my thoughts easily. Maybe that’s a habit I’ll eventually learn to break, but there’ll definitely be boundaries if we become more intimate. Think you can handle that?’
With her heart bumping heavily against her ribs, Layla found herself nodding slowly. ‘Yes, I do. At least, I’m willing to take the risk.’
AFTER they had their coffee Drake gave Layla the ‘grand tour’ of his offices, because he knew if they stayed alone together any longer, cloistered in his private domain, he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her. As it was he had to contend with the too interested glances of his colleagues … especially the men. But how could he blame them when her slim-hipped jeans-clad figure and beautiful face was a magnet for any male with a pulse? No matter how young or old …
From the moment he’d told her that he was willing to let her get to know him—barring one or two no-go areas that he hadn’t yet outlined—he’d begun to feel uncharacteristically possessive towards her. It was a new sensation for Drake, and one he’d never experienced before—not even with his ex Kirsty.
As they toured the offices on each floor Layla appeared genuinely fascinated by the different projects his architects and designers were undertaking—taking him and them aback by asking the kind of in-depth questions that he asked his clients himself in a bid to ascertain their construction needs. She was particularly interested in the social and environmental aspects of the various designs, and his younger male architects were only too happy to oblige her with full-length explanations, he saw. The realisation made him proud that he’d hired such good people, but it also made him intensely jealous that they were practically falling over themselves to interact with Layla.
When she stood beside them to examine an architectural model more closely, or leant over their shoulders to view a design or a technical drawing on a computer, did their hearts pound because she was so near as his always did?
He couldn’t wait to have her to himself again, and after a couple of hours of this self-inflicted torture Drake was more than ready for them to return to his off ice.
By the time they reached the executive floor he noted that it was nearing six in the evening and one or two people were packing up for the day, ready to go home. Monica looked decidedly disgruntled as he and Layla arrived back in the outer office, giving him the instant vibe that she wasn’t too impressed with his impromptu tour.
‘I’ve rescheduled Sir Edwin Dodd for Monday afternoon at two, but the other appointments you so unfortunately missed all ask if you could call them personally to establish when you’ll definitely be available. Other than that … All Quiet on the Western Front, as they say—and unless there’s anything urgent I’m going home.’
‘Thank you, Monica,’ he replied, smiling. ‘I appreciate your hard work today. I know it can’t have been easy cancelling my appointments at the last minute. Are those the phone numbers of the clients that I missed?’ He gestured towards the piece of paper she was holding out to him.
‘Yes.’ She perfunctorily handed it over, then impatiently hovered as he scanned down the printed list.
‘That’s fine. Thanks again,’ he murmured.
‘I’ll say goodnight, then.’
Without further ado she slipped on her raincoat, arranged the strap of her bag securely over her shoulder, then exited the office without so much as a backward glance at either him or Layla.
Striding back into his private office, Drake dropped the paper onto his desk and then called out to his guest to come and join him.
‘I get the feeling that your secretary’s going to view me as enemy number one should I ever dare visit you here again … especially without an appointment.’ Stepping into the room and then quietly closing the door behind her, Layla shaped her mouth into a lopsided and rueful smile.
‘She runs a tight ship.’ Drake grinned. ‘She doesn’t like it when her captain goes AWOL.’
‘I can’t say I blame her. You probably missed several important appointments today.’