Nikki Moore - Crazy, Undercover, Love

Now we’re all adults I’ve forgiven them their comments. They only made them to get a reaction. Still, I learnt from the older generation in my home village that some men really do view women like that. Outdated attitudes I was keen to escape. So it’s easygoing, supportive guys I date, not alpha males who have liquid testosterone running through their veins. Men like Alex.

No, it can’t be genuine attraction. It’s a hormonal thing, I’ve been sex-starved for too long. Perhaps it’s time to change that. Just not with Mr Standoffish.

Stamping hard on the brakes, the driver gives a muffled curse as the car skids to a stop with a squeal of tyres. I’m wrenched out of my thoughts and, despite my seatbelt, fly sideways with a lurch, ending half-sprawled across Alex’s lap, my boobs against his shoulder and my hand on his upper thigh.

It’s very hard, and very hot.

‘Oops, sorry.’ Straightening, I gaze into his eyes, cheeks scalding, heart racing again. It takes enormous willpower not to squeeze his thigh to test exactly how firm it is.

‘No problem,’ he replies, ‘it was an accident.’ He lifts my hand off his leg. ‘But if you don’t mind, you can have this back.’

‘Thanks.’ I can’t help noticing how big and warm his hand is, the palm rough against my fingers, which flex automatically, fingertips brushing his wrist. His touch transmits a basic message to my ultra-aware body and my unruly hormones go into party mode again. ‘Mr Demetrio,’ I breathe.

‘Yes?’

‘I … um.’ Hot and extremely bothered, my skin tingles with waves of sexual awareness. My toes are curling, no, practically corkscrewing in my boots. Bet he’s phenomenal in bed. Not that it matters. Snap out of it. Clearing my throat. ‘Nothing.’

‘Sorry, sir,’ the driver calls through. ‘Someone cut across me to get to the exit. I don’t think he saw me.’

‘No problem,’ Alex replies. ‘The main thing is we’re all okay.’ He looks down at our joined hands and frowns.

I snatch mine away, sliding across the back seat as the car starts moving again. With a small shake of his head, Alex retrieves his tablet and resumes work.

Rubbing my shoulder where the belt burnt into it, I cast around for a distraction. ‘How far to the airport?’ Fresh air and a change of scenery may do me good.

He glances at his expensive gold watch. ‘Another twenty minutes or so.’

‘Right, thank you.’

‘Is there a problem?’

Shifting on the leather beneath me, I open my jacket, needing to cool down. ‘No, not at all, I was just wondering.’ The seatbelt tightens across my chest as the car purrs up a slip road and comes to a roundabout. I need to get a grip. Back to the task at hand. What would a new employee with little knowledge of his business ask?

‘Can you brief me on the arrangements for this weekend please? And provide some background information about you and the organisation?’ I know the casino chain inside out and can list the types of companies sitting alongside it under the umbrella organisation, but if I show that knowledge off he might get suspicious.

He turns to face me. ‘Didn’t you do any research? Or ask the agency to brief you?’

I take a deep breath, refusing to react to the implied criticism. ‘There wasn’t enough time. The agency gave me the broad outline, but once I accepted the assignment, it was a rush to pack and get across the city. Plus my phone died, so I couldn’t look it up online.’ Liar. I switched to a pay-as-you-go mobile months ago and only have enough credit to make emergency calls to Jess whilst abroad. Raising my eyebrows, I inject gratitude into my tone. ‘So if you wouldn’t mind?’

‘Fair enough.’ He stretches his arms out then drops them, the movement making me aware of how big and broad he is. ‘This weekend is for the AGM,’ annual general meeting I translate silently, ‘of Demetrio International. The organisation has Greek roots but we trade worldwide.’ The car rocks slightly as an articulated lorry roars past.

‘You don’t sound very Greek.’ It pops out.

‘What do you want? Dios and agape mou in darkly accented muttered tones?’

My stomach squelches. That actually sounds quite nice. But it appears to be a sore point. ‘No, of course not. Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.’

‘No,’ he sighs, ‘I’m sorry for snapping. Anyway, I came to the UK as a child from Corfu, went to boarding school and then on to study at Oxford.’ Which explains his unaccented English. ‘I can speak some Greek. German and French too.’

‘Right.’

‘My grandfather built the original companies, primarily based on shipping, oil and transport.’ As he speaks a crooked smile curves his mouth, making my knickers twang. ‘When he met my grandmother, who’s British, she was a high-ranking army officer. After they married she left the army and had my father and younger sister within a few years but wanted to do something as well as raise children. Together they set up and managed a number of vineyards across Europe, olive farms and some restaurants and bars throughout the Greek islands. That was the start of it.’

‘She was an officer,’ I echo, impressed. The corporate induction information mentions the organisation’s humble beginnings, but I didn’t know his grandmother was in the army. She must have been a tough lady.

‘Yes, but it’s not well known. Pretend you didn’t hear that.’

‘No problem.’ I mime zipping my lips. So he likes his privacy. It must be pretty difficult to achieve. After all, he’s a wealthy, young and dynamic CEO and therefore someone naturally of interest to the press. The David Beckham of the business world. I could be intimidated, but he’s still a person who eats, sleeps and breathes, even if it’s hard to ignore the cut of the sharply tailored suit, hand-crafted leather shoes and healthy sheen of his skin. And that he could probably buy the flat I’m mortgaged to the hilt on a hundred times over.

‘Thank you. So, my father came into the business in his twenties and ran the company alongside my grandfather for over thirty years, expanding the enterprise, until seven years ago when I became CEO. My grandfather retired very late, my father earlier than planned, and they convinced the Board someone in the family should run the company.’ His expression turns grim.

Shifting in my seat to look at him better. ‘Can I ask a question?’

His shoulders tense. ‘It depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On what the question is.’

Wow. Talk about uptight. ‘I wanted to ask how old you are,’ I say easily, ‘but if it’s a national secret, one of those if I tell you I’ll have to kill you pieces of information, please feel free not to answer.’

Opening his mouth, he pauses, then shocks me by throwing his head back and laughing. It’s a low, rumbling sound and does funny things to my insides. As he chuckles, the tension seems to leak from him.

‘No, it’s not a national secret,’ he murmurs, giving me a wide, genuine, ridiculously sexy smile, ‘and I can tell you, but I won’t have to kill you. So if you’re looking for a merciful death to escape this assignment I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.’

‘What a shame,’ I drawl, playing along. Then freeze. God, are we flirting? I mustn’t, I can’t, even if it’s accidental. I’ve been here before and look how it turned out.

Disaster.

Major bloody disaster.

No, it’s fine. I shake my head internally. He’s just being nice and I’m doing the same. ‘So, how old are you?’ I’d put him at thirty-five when he’s scowling and twenty-seven when he’s smiling. Funny how a change of emotion can make such a difference to someone’s face.