expressing varying degrees of surprise, interest and speculation.
With the notable exception of the man seated at the head of the desk, whose eyes captured and held her own.
Dark, dangerously so…forbidding.
Xavier sensed his associates’ masked surprise at the intrusion. No one, without exception, was permitted entry into a boardroom meeting without Xavier DeVasquez’s approval.
At that moment his cellphone pealed, and he brushed aside his PA’s apology, then ended the call.
His gaze didn’t move from her own, and Romy was supremely conscious of his strong facial bone structure, the dark, almost black eyes, and fine lines fanning from their outer edges. Thick black hair worn a fraction too long lent him an air of leashed savagery…elemental and vaguely primitive. A generous mouth…so incredibly sensual, she could remember the ease with which it had captured her own and robbed her of any sane thought she might have had at the time.
Helpless. Utterly and completely helpless, she’d exulted in his touch, believing his apparent rapture mirrored her own…only to discover it to be a figment of her imagination.
Did he have any idea what it cost her to face him? Or know that she’d give almost anything to avoid doing so?
‘I don’t believe you have an appointment.’
Romy’s eyes glittered as she absorbed his drawled rebuke, and her chin lifted fractionally.
‘Difficult to achieve, when your PA refused my every request to make one.’
‘On my instruction.’
She inclined her head. ‘Naturally.’
‘We have nothing to discuss.’
‘Yes, we do.’ Her gaze speared his own. ‘Here, now…or in private.’ She waited a beat. ‘Your choice.’
There was a part of him that admired her tenacity, her courage.
A security team was poised on the other side of the door, awaiting his instruction to forcibly remove her from the building. All he had to do was lift the phone and say the words.
Except he did neither.
Instead, he deliberately raked her petite frame, silently challenging her to drop her gaze, only to be met with unblinking icy resolve as startlingly blue eyes held steady beneath his encompassing scrutiny.
A fashionable grey dress worn over a black cotton polo top accentuated her slender frame. Thin black leggings adorned her legs, and soft leather boots with killer heels added inches to her naturally petite height.
The young woman standing before him was the antithesis of the rather naive innocent he remembered. Inherent strength emanated from her small frame, determination and a degree of defiance he reluctantly admired.
It led him to speculate what she might offer in a vain attempt to save her father’s skin. A woman’s known asset…the use of her body?
Something stirred deep within. A pleasing memory of innocent wonder and uninhibited delight, her generosity, the sweet fervour of her mouth. Genuine, not a calculated act.
Heaven knew he’d become bored with his recent female companions and their predictable modus operandi. Practiced sycophants who used every known guise to attract his attention in a game as old as time.
Romy Picard could prove an interesting diversion. He’d blocked off every avenue of contact available to her…except one. And made it extremely difficult, almost impossible for her to circumvent. Yet she hadn’t disappointed, and there was a part of him that applauded her persistence.
Xavier made a split-second decision, lifted the interoffice phone, and issued his PA with instructions to accommodate Romy Picard until the meeting’s conclusion.
During which his eyes never left her own, and she refused to look away. Instead, she merely inclined her head, then turned and exited the room.
The cool, composed persona was a sham, one she maintained as she crossed to a comfortable leather chair and sank gracefully into its cushioned depths. Romy selected a magazine at random, studied the index, then chose an article and pretended interest in a stock-market graph.
She should have experienced a mild sense of elation at having succeeded in gaining an audience with Xavier DeVasquez. Except there was only anxiety existent, and a feeling of dread.
Ridiculous, she rationalized, when she’d dealt with rebellious young teens in a classroom of misfits and miscreants whose command of the English language comprised sassy belligerence in a deliberate attempt to diminish her authority. She’d achieved the unexpected, in a hard-won fight for the kind of mutual respect that promoted a degree of enthusiasm for learning. Because she cared enough to take the knocks in order to gain the end result.
Whether she could expect to win any form of reprieve for her father was something else…but she had to try.
Romy replaced the magazine and selected another, pretending interest in current electronic technology, when there was nothing further from her mind.
How long before Xavier concluded the meeting?
A hollow laugh rose and died in her throat. Five minutes—an hour…what difference did it make?
Thirty minutes and counting, she perceived when four men exited the conference room and acknowledged the CEO’s PA before entering the corridor leading out to Reception.
A phone beeped on the PA’s desk, and Romy quelled the sudden twist of nervous tension gripping her stomach as the PA uttered a few quiet words and stood to her feet.
‘Mr DeVasquez will see you now.’
CHAPTER TWO
OKAY, she could do this. After all, what was the worst that could happen?
So why did each consecutive step towards the conference room feel as if she was walking to her doom?
Get over it, she cautioned silently as the PA lightly rapped the door, then immediately opened it and announced Romy’s presence. Romy entered and heard the faint snick as the door closed behind her, and she unconsciously lifted her chin as she prepared to do battle with the man who’d condescended to allow her a few minutes of his time.
Xavier DeVasquez stood at the far end of the conference room. His height and breadth of shoulder accentuated by fine tailoring as he appeared engrossed in the scene beyond the floor-to-ceiling plate glass.
In profile, his facial features bore a chiselled look, the strong line of his jaw, sculptured cheekbones, and she felt a constriction in her throat as he turned towards her.
Arresting, he emanated a compelling power that was almost primitive, and she held his gaze as eyes dark as sin speared her own.
‘You have five minutes.’ The soft drawl held a hint of purpose Romy chose to ignore as she retrieved an envelope from her bag and extended it towards him.
‘You’ll find a certified cheque
