Sharon Kendrick - Back In The Boss's Bed

Her heart missed a beat as she stared at him incredulously. ‘Are you trying to suggest that I’ve stolen from my own company?’

He shook his dark head. ‘Of course not. You weren’t involved in the process itself,’ he said blandly. ‘But, unlike me, you won’t be able to take an impartial overview of the situation.’

‘I think you underestimate me,’ she shot back and she met the answering look in his eye which said as clearly as if he had spoken it, I think not.

‘Why don’t I leave the two of you in peace?’ said her grandfather hurriedly, and began to manoeuvre the wheels of his chair in the direction of the door.

Kiloran scarcely noticed him leave, her breath was coming in short and indignant little blasts, which was making her chest rise and fall as if she had been running in a particularly fast race.

Adam wished to hell that he had the authority to tell her to put a jacket on, but what reason could he give? That he found the sight of her moving breasts too distracting? That her hair was too shiny clean and blonde and her lips positively X-rated? That the silken look of her white and golden skin made it seem a sheer crime to have it covered in anything other than a man’s lips?

Instead he curved his mouth into the sardonic smile which would have made people who knew him well have serious misgivings about his next words.

‘Your grandfather asked me to review your financial position,’ he said bluntly. ‘And I’ve had a preliminary look at the figures.’

There was a simmering silence while she looked at him. ‘And?’

The grey eyes became as steely as his voice. ‘I suspect that it’s worse than even he thought.’ He paused just long enough for her to realise just how serious it was. And then he remembered Vaughn’s kindness, remembered too that this woman was his granddaughter. He forced a smile.

‘I’m afraid that we’re going to have to make a few changes round here.’ The silence became slightly tighter still before he delivered his final blow. ‘Because, without a miracle, I’m afraid your company will go bust, Kiloran.’

Without a miracle, your company will go bust.

ADAM BLACK fixed her with a cool, challenging look and Kiloran stared at him, trying not to be lulled by the stormy beauty of his eyes.

‘Aren’t you exaggerating just a little?’

He observed the cool, almost haughty look she was giving him and for a moment he almost relished wiping that proud look from her face before plucking a sheaf of papers from his briefcase and flicking a dismissive hand in their direction.

‘Have a chair,’ he drawled, in the kind of tone which suggested that she didn’t have a choice.

‘Thanks,’ she said stonily, thinking that he seemed to have acquired the ability to make her feel like a stranger in her own boardroom.

He sat down in the chair beside hers and his mouth curved. ‘So you think I’m exaggerating, do you? Tell me, have you read these papers?’

‘Of course I’ve read them!’

‘Then surely you can be in no doubt about just how bad things are?’

‘Do you think I’m stupid?’

He gave a cynical smile. ‘Take my advice, honey. Never ask an open question like that. You’re giving me the opportunity to say yes.’

‘Then say it! I’m not afraid of your answer,’ she said proudly.

He sighed with barely concealed impatience even though she looked very beautiful when she tilted her chin like that and the eyes sparked a witchy green fire. This was what happened when you worked with family firms—people behaved as if they owned the place, which, of course, they did. If Kiloran Lacey had been any other employee—no matter what her position in the company—he would have told her to stop wasting his time, to shut up and just listen.

‘If anything, you’ve been guilty of mismanagement,’ he said. ‘Stupidity would imply that you had ignored advice, and I’m assuming you didn’t?’ He raised a dark, arrogant eyebrow. ‘Or did you? Did anyone warn you that your company accountant had been salting away funds for his own private Swiss bank account, Kiloran?’

‘Of course they didn’t!’

‘And you didn’t notice?’

Now he was making her feel stupid. Very stupid. ‘Obviously not.’

‘Indeed.’ Reflectively, he brushed the tip of his finger against his lips and subjected her to an unhurried appraisal. ‘So what happened? Did you take your eye off the ball? Or weren’t you watching the ball in the first place?’

He made her sound like a fool, and she was no fool. Kiloran knew that she had been guilty of a lack of judgement, but she was damned if she was going to have this supercilious man jumping to conclusions when he didn’t know a damned thing about her! And looking at her in that cool, studied way, the thick, dark lashes shielding the grey eyes, making her feel she’d been caught momentarily off balance.

‘You’re full of questions, Mr Black—’

Questions which she seemed very good at evading, he acknowledged thoughtfully. So did that mean she had something to hide? ‘I thought you were going to call me Adam.’

‘If you insist.’

‘Oh, I do,’ he responded. ‘I do.’

His dark face momentarily relaxed into one of lazy mockery. Kiloran swallowed, feeling out of her depth and it was a curious sensation. Men didn’t usually faze her—even exceptionally good-looking men like this one, though she had never met a man quite like Adam Black. The aura of power and success radiated off him, but she was damned if she was going to be cowed by that. ‘Perhaps it’s time you provided me with a few answers yourself,’ she said quietly.

He raised his eyebrows, trying to ignore the way her lips folded into pink petals. So she was trying to pull rank, was she? Hadn’t it sunk in just how precarious her situation was? How people’s livelihoods were at risk? Or was she just thinking of her own, spoilt little self?

He decided to humour her. Maybe if he gave her enough rope she would hang herself. ‘And what exactly do you want to know, Kiloran?’

His voice was a steely honey-trap, but Kiloran let it wash over her. ‘Just why my grandfather has called you in?’

Dark brows were knitted together. ‘I should have thought that was obvious—he wants me to help you get out of the mess—’

‘I’ve created?’

‘Helped to create,’ he amended.

‘Please don’t patronise me—’

‘Patronise you?’ Adam had had enough. ‘Listen, if I were patronising you, you’d soon know about it!’ He leaned forward by a fraction, then wished he hadn’t because she smelt of some evocative scent—something flowery and delicate which shivered over his senses—and he jerked back as if someone had stung him. ‘You know damned well why he’s called me in!’

‘Oh, yes—your reputation for getting things done is legendary.’ She paused. ‘But that doesn’t explain why you’ve condescended to take on such a lowly assignment.’

His eyes glittered—what had he thought about giving her enough rope? ‘Well, well, well—that sounds like a pretty fundamental problem to me,’ he mused. ‘If you consider your own company to be “lowly”.’

‘That’s not what I meant, and you know it!’ He was twisting everything she said! ‘Just that you usually deal with far bigger ventures than this one!’

‘Maybe I wanted a change.’ He looked towards the large French windows, which overlooked the garden, where the view was as pretty as something from a picture, distracting enough, but far less distracting than the whispering movement of her silk as she crossed one bare brown leg over the other. ‘A change of scene. A little country air.’

Kiloran felt the breath catch in her throat and it felt as if someone were tiptoeing over her grave. He was uncannily echoing her own sentiments and suddenly this seemed like trespass in more than one way—now he was coveting her land as well as her company! ‘How much are you being paid?’