A Week To Be Wild. JC Harroway
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Three years without sex really was too long. She hated to concede it, but her assistant, Vinnie, was right.
‘So?’ Her friend waggled a finger at the camera. ‘It’s business. This account and his contacts could help us expand into Europe, Asia—the world.’
Sonya’s ‘duh’ look of incredulity soured Libby’s tea—a less than satisfactory brew made from the meagre selection in her hotel room. She pushed it away, sipping water from a bottle instead, stalling for time.
Refusing to hear his proposal didn’t make sense. Business sense. But instinct had brought her this far in her success story, and the same instinct told her to stay away from Alex Lancaster. He was just too charismatic, charming, virile. Nope. Her reaction to him this afternoon confirmed it; he was dangerous.
She didn’t do danger. And despite his enormous accomplishments, she couldn’t abide his reputation for recklessness.
‘Well, if you take the account the effects for the company will be the same.’ She plastered on her best convincing smile. ‘There’s a hefty bonus in it. Think of all the baby stuff you could buy.’
Wow, low blow, Libby. Cheap shot.
Sonya huffed. Probably she was too uncomfortable to appreciate the merits of Libby’s inducements.
‘No way. I won’t have time. I’ll end up handing it over to you anyway, when I go on maternity leave. And, to be honest, I should have quit by now. I don’t want to have this baby in the elevator with only Vinnie for assistance. You know how he fusses. I’d end up killing him and then where would you be?’
A queasy roll of the stomach put an end to Libby’s thoughts of popping out for dinner. She’d yet to find a temporary stand-in for Sonya—the would-be candidates they’d interviewed so far had been woefully inadequate to fill such capable shoes.
The pair were cut from the same cloth. Had studied at the same college. The same business school. When Libby had started out, Sonya had come on board and they’d created Noble and Pullman, investing in the joint venture, teaching each other as much as they’d learned from each other.
Any day now, there was going to be a substantial Sonya-shaped hole left in their small but precious company.
As if he’d heard his name mentioned, Vinnie, Libby’s outspoken and at times frankly inappropriate PA, entered her office, poking his head over Sonya’s shoulder so his face filled the screen. She waved, relieved to have a reprieve from justifying her inexplicable reluctance to work with Lancaster IT—or rather its sexy founder.
‘How are things going, Vinnie? Any more responses?’ She’d approached a few medium-sized firms here in London, hoping to drum up a little new business before she returned home in a few days.
‘No’ really.’
Vinnie spoke with a thick Scottish brogue she failed to understand most days.
‘Do you want me to make some follow-up calls?’
Libby sighed. She was good at her job. Could sell anything. But still she sometimes struggled to sell herself. Never quite outgrowing her humble, wrong-side-of-the-tracks beginnings.
‘No. I’ll take care of it—and if I can’t see anyone I’ll just be a tourist for a few days. Perhaps I’ll meet the Queen.’
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken any holiday, and the two worried faces peering back at her from her laptop screen confirmed that her suggestion wasn’t just alien to her.
She needed a change of subject, before Vinnie pulled up a list of London’s singles clubs and Sonya told her—again—that it was ‘time to move on’.
‘Are you taking care of Sonya?’
Her friend’s eyes rolled.
Vinnie smiled. ‘Well, you know what she’s like… Let’s just say I’m trying. If I end up delivering this wee one…’ he stroked Sonya’s belly and she batted him away ‘…I want a bonus.’
They all chuckled, but the sound held a nervous undertone. Libby shouldn’t have left the helm at such a crucial time. She’d been lured by the all-expenses-paid trip to a city she’d always dreamed of visiting and had been flattered that they’d asked for her personally to speak at the conference.
‘I came in to tell you I’ve had Alex Lancaster on the phone this morning. He called asking for your personal number,’ said Vinnie.
Libby straightened in her chair, her heart thumping double time.
‘Don’t worry, hen. I didn’t give it to him—although he’s a determined young fella.’
Libby pressed her lips together. Vinnie needed no encouragement for the ridiculous things he said. ‘Young fella’ hardly did Alex Lancaster justice.
‘He seemed to know where you’re staying, so he may call. Said he had a “business proposition”.’ Vinnie made air quotes, a small smirk on his face. ‘And wanted to discuss it before you left the UK.’
The one mouthful of tepid tea she’d managed sloshed inside Libby’s hollow insides.
Sonya’s eyes rounded to the size of her pregnant belly. She lumbered into a sitting position, glaring into the webcam. ‘He really wants you.’ Her shrewd eyes narrowed.
Libby chewed her lip, evading comment. The last thing she needed was this unlikely pair of would-be matchmakers getting the wrong idea about Alex Lancaster’s intentions and her own position. She’d already said too much.
Flutters invaded her chest at the thought of speaking to him, of seeing him again. Stop. She didn’t have to take his call. She’d already heard his proposition. Her answer would be the same.
With that, the hotel phone rang on the desk next to her, making all three of them jump. She stared at the device for two or three rings, frozen. It had to be him. No one else knew where she was, with the exception of the two people staring at her with excitement and intrigue shining in their eyes.
‘Answer it,’ Sonya said, gesturing wildly at Libby to accept the call.
They waited. Expectant. Sometimes it sucked that these two knew her so well.
Rolling her shoulders back, she chided herself. Act professional. He was just a businessman. Just another potential client. Libby covered her mouth with her index finger, shushing them. Then turned the laptop away so it faced the wall. Sonya and Vinnie would hear her side of the conversation, but they wouldn’t see her face while she answered the call.
‘Libby Noble.’ Shit, her voice was all breathy—as if she’d run a marathon.
She relaxed her clenched fingers, slipping her feet from her shoes under the desk and flexing her toes into the plush pile of the carpet.