An Offer She Can't Refuse

Mallika gave him what she hoped was a sufficiently cool and professional smile.

‘I’ll tell you if I change my mind,’ she managed, as she pulled together her scattered thoughts.

‘The salary is negotiable,’ Darius added, but she shook her head.

‘It’s not about the money,’ she assured him.

Darius knew when not to push—he also knew he wasn’t going to give up so easily.

‘I need to go,’ she said. ‘Thanks for being so nice about everything.’

She put her hand out, and Darius got to his feet as he took it.

‘Nice’ wasn’t the impression he wanted to leave her with. ‘Nice’ suggested she’d forget him the minute she stepped out of the hotel. And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

Dear Reader

This is my sixth book for Harlequin Mills & Boon®, and it was perhaps the most fun to write. The idea popped into my head when I was talking to a colleague who’d taken a few months off to travel around Europe. What if I had a hero who was wildly successful at what he did and had made more than enough money to fulfil his boyhood dream of spending some years just travelling around and discovering more about the world? And what if, just before he left, he met a woman who made him think that perhaps there was more to life than just living out his dream?

It took a while to get my characters just right, but Darius in the book is now exactly as I imagined him—successful, strong-willed and very, very attractive. Mallika is different—she’s been through a lot and she’s always put family ahead of anything else. As a result, while she’s resilient she’s also very risk-averse. She’s instantly attracted to Darius but she fights the attraction, thinking that it can never work between them. Darius, however, has completely different views on the matter!

Happy reading!

Shoma

SHOMA NARAYANAN started reading Mills and Boon® romances at the age of eleven, borrowing them from neighbours and hiding them inside textbooks so that her parents didn’t find out. At that time the thought of writing one herself never entered her head—she was convinced she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up. When she was a little older she decided to become an engineer instead, and took a degree in electronics and telecommunications. Then she thought a career in management was probably a better bet, and went off to do an MBA. That was a decision she never regretted, because she met the man of her dreams in the first year of business school—fifteen years later they’re married with two adorable kids, whom they’re raising with the same careful attention to detail that they gave their second-year project on organisational behaviour.

A couple of years ago Shoma took up writing as a hobby—after successively trying her hand at baking, sewing, knitting, crochet and patchwork—and was amazed at how much she enjoyed it. Now she works grimly at her banking job through the week, and tries to balance writing with household chores during weekends. Her family has been unfailingly supportive of her latest hobby, and are also secretly very, very relieved that they don’t have to eat, wear or display the results!

An Offer She Can’t Refuse

Shoma Narayanan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my family

Table of Contents

Cover

Excerpt

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

DARIUS MISTRY WAS NOT used to taking orders from anyone. And especially not orders that came from a woman he was supposed to be interviewing. The fact that the woman had turned out to be surprisingly attractive was neither here nor there—this was strictly work, and her behaviour right now seemed more than a little strange.

‘Hold my hand,’ she was saying. ‘Come on, she’s almost here.’

Her current boss had just walked into the coffee shop, and Mallika was reacting as if it was a massive disaster. Granted, being caught by your boss while you were being interviewed for another job wasn’t the best start to an interview, but it wasn’t the end of the world. Mallika’s expression suggested a catastrophe on a life-threatening scale—like the Titanic hitting the iceberg or Godzilla stomping into town.

‘Please, Darius?’ she said, and when he didn’t react immediately she reached across the table and took his hand. ‘Look into my eyes,’ she pleaded.

He complied, trying not to notice how soft her skin was, and how her slim and capable-looking hand fitted perfectly into his.

‘At least try to pretend you’re my date,’ she begged despairingly.

He laughed. ‘You’re not doing a great job either,’ he pointed out. ‘The whole “deer caught in headlights” look doesn’t suggest you’re crazy about me.’

She managed to chuckle at that, and her expression was so appealing that he sighed and put on what he hoped was a suitably infatuated look. Actually, after a second he found he was quite enjoying himself. He had a keen sense of humour, and despite his attempts to remain professional when faced with such an attractive interviewee, the situation was so completely ridiculous it was funny.

He was supposed to be evaluating Mallika for an important role in his company, and instead here he was, holding her hand and gazing deeply into her eyes. Rather beautiful eyes, actually—the momentarily helpless Bambi look was gone now, replaced with an apprehensive but intriguingly mischievous little sparkle.

‘My goodness, Mallika, what a surprise!’

The woman who’d stopped by their table was middle-aged and plump and terribly overdressed. Purple silk, loads of fussy jewellery, and make-up that would have put a Bollywood item girl to shame.

‘Hi, Vaishali,’ Mallika looked up with a suitably friendly smile, but she didn’t let go of Darius’s hand.

‘So this was your “urgent personal meeting”, was it?’ Vaishali leaned closer to Darius. ‘Mallika’s kept you a pretty closely guarded secret, I must say.’

‘We … um … met recently,’ Darius said, trying not to gag at the cloud of cloying perfume. It was like being smothered to death by lilies—the woman must have poured an entire bottle of perfume over herself.

‘Ah, well, you deserve to have some fun,’ the woman was saying to Mallika, patting her hand in a surprisingly motherly way. ‘I’ll leave you with your young man, shall I? See you at work tomorrow!’

Her husband had been waiting patiently by her side, and Vaishali tucked her hand in his arm and trotted off with a final wave.

Mallika sighed in relief. ‘Close shave,’ she said as she released Darius’s hand.

Clearly it was no longer of any use to her, but Darius felt absurdly bereft. When he’d first seen her he’d thought Mallika strikingly good-looking, in a natural, outdoorsy kind of way—not his type at all. Now, however, he found himself wishing that she’d held on to his hand just a little bit longer, and the feeling surprised him.

He wasn’t entirely sure how he had lost control of the situation, and why he had not asserted himself in his usual role. He usually went for graceful, ultra-feminine women—the kind who’d learnt ballet when they were young and who dabbled in poetry in their spare time. While she was conservatively dressed, in a business suit, Mallika looked as if she’d spent her youth playing cricket with boys and beating them in every game.

Writing off his reaction to her as a momentary aberration, Darius tried to make sense of what had just happened.

‘Is she that scary?’ Darius asked, and when Mallika didn’t answer, he prompted, ‘Your boss?’

She bit her lip. ‘No, she isn’t,’ she said after a brief pause. ‘She’s actually rather nice.’

He was about to ask her why she’d been so nervous, then, but he held the words back. This was a business meeting, and the fewer personal questions he asked the better. Only he didn’t feel very businesslike right now. When she’d bitten down on her lower lip his eyes had been automatically attracted to her mouth, and now he couldn’t look away. Her lips were full and soft-looking and utterly feminine, and completely in contrast to her direct gaze and the firm lines of her chiselled face …

Okay, this was crazy—sitting and staring at a woman he’d met fifteen minutes ago. One whom he was supposed to be interviewing for a directorship.

‘We didn’t get very far with our discussion,’ he said, trying to sound as if his interest in her was limited to her suitability for the role he’d been telling her about. ‘There’s a decent restaurant on the twenty-first floor. Would you prefer going there? Less chance your boss might pop up again.’

Mallika hesitated. It had seemed so glamorous when someone from the Nidas Group had headhunted her to discuss a director level role. Nidas was big—it had been set up by a bunch of young dotcom entrepreneurs a decade ago, and they’d struck gold in almost every business they’d tried their hand at.

They’d started off with online share trading and investments, but later branched off into venture capital and real estate and done much better than players who’d been in the market for thrice the time. Being considered for a directorship in the firm at the age of twenty-nine was a huge ego-boost—it wouldn’t have been possible in any other firm, but at Nidas the directors were quite young, and they didn’t hold her age against her.

Her first few meetings with Nidas had been preliminary ones, screening her for this final interview with Darius Mistry. For a few days she’d actually thought she could do it—be like any of the other women she’d gone to business school with, take charge of her career, interview with other employers, pretend that she had a normal life like everyone else. Reality was sinking in only now.

She glanced across at Darius. When she’d heard the name she’d imagined a paunchy, cheerful, white-haired man—she’d had a Parsi drama teacher at school who’d also been called Darius, and he’d looked just like Santa Claus minus the beard. Darius Mistry had come as a bit of a surprise.

True, his Persian ancestry showed in his pale colouring and hawklike features, but he was in his early thirties, tall and broad-shouldered, and as unlike her former drama teacher as an eagle from a turkey. Not good-looking in the traditional sense, more disturbingly attractive, and he emanated a quiet power and control that had Mallika caught in its glow.

He was still waiting for her to answer, she realised. ‘No, I’m fine here,’ she said. ‘Actually, I just made up my mind. I don’t think I want to take the interview any further. I’m sorry—I should have thought this through properly.’

Darius frowned. This afternoon really was not going to plan. Mallika had been interviewed by his HR team, as well as by one of his colleagues, and everyone who’d met her had been very impressed. Apparently she’d come across as being sharply intelligent and very, very good at what she did. He’d also looked at the performance of the real estate fund she managed. It had done extremely well, even in a volatile and completely unpredictable market, and before he’d met Mallika he’d built up an image of a hard-nosed, practical businesswoman.

The reality was different enough to be intriguing.

For a few seconds he wondered if she was playing hard to get. People used all kinds of techniques to drive up the benefits package they were offered, but very few started so early in the process. And Mallika looked troubled, a little upset—whatever the reason for her sudden decision to stop the interview process, it definitely wasn’t a hard-nosed or practical one.

‘You’ve spent almost five years with your current firm,’ he said. ‘I know the thought of switching jobs can be a bit overwhelming, but there’s no harm going through with the interview process, is there? Once you hear what we’re offering you can always say no.’

‘I guess …’ she said slowly. ‘I just don’t want to waste your time.’

‘My whole night is dedicated to you,’ he said.

Promptly Mallika thought of all the things they could get up to together. Her cheeks flushed a little and she took a hasty sip of water, hoping he hadn’t noticed her confusion.

‘So, how much has Venkat told you about the job?’ Darius asked.

‘He told me about how you and he set up the share trading division,’ she said. ‘And how you got a real estate fund going, and that you now want to concentrate on the venture capital side and hire someone to manage the fund for you.’

‘That’s right,’ Darius said. ‘The fund was an offshoot of our investments business and it’s been doing well—we’ve consistently outperformed the market.’

She seemed interested, Darius noted as he began telling her more about the role. She was frowning in concentration, and the few questions she asked were focussed and showed that she’d done a good deal of research on the firm and on the job. He asked a few questions in turn, and it was clear that Venkat hadn’t been wrong. Mallika knew pretty much everything there was to know about running a real estate fund.

‘Does it sound like something you’d like to do?’ he asked finally.

It was as if he’d shaken her out of a daydream—her vibrantly alive expression dulled, and her shoulders slumped just a little.

‘I love the sound of the job,’ she said, almost unwillingly. ‘But the timing’s not right for me. I have a lot going on right now, and I think maybe it’s best I stay where I am.’

‘Do you want to take a day to think it over?’

Mallika shook her head. ‘No, I … I think I’m pretty clear that it won’t work out. I’m so sorry—I know you have a busy schedule, and I should have thought this through properly before agreeing to meet you.’

She looked so genuinely contrite that he impulsively leaned across the table to cover her hand with his, making her look up in surprise.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said, masking his disappointment. ‘I’m meeting other people as well, but if you do change your mind let me know.’

Mallika blinked at him, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. It was like being hit by a train, she thought, confused. She’d been so focussed on what he was saying, on trying to stay professional, that she’d forgotten quite how attractive he was. Then he’d smiled and taken her hand, and the feel of his warm skin against hers had sent her long-dormant hormones into overdrive.

We like this man, they were saying excitedly. Where did you find him? Can we keep him? Please?

So much for a dispassionate admiration of his looks, she thought, trying to quell the seriously crazy thoughts racing through her brain. There was good-looking, and there was scorching hot—and Darius definitely fell into the second category. The first time she’d grabbed his hand she’d been too worked up to notice—this time a simple touch had sent her hormones into overdrive.

Gingerly, she slid her hand out from under his and gave him what she hoped was a sufficiently cool and professional smile.

‘I’ll tell you if I change my mind,’ she managed as she pulled together her scattered thoughts.

‘The salary is negotiable,’ he added.

She shook her head. ‘It’s not about the money,’ she assured him. ‘But thanks for letting me know.’

Darius knew when not to push—and he also knew he wasn’t going to give up so easily.

Mallika looked as if she was all set to leave, and he glanced at his watch. ‘It’s almost eight-thirty,’ he said. ‘I’m starving, and I’m sure you are too. D’you have time for a quick bite?’

Perhaps he could get to the bottom of her sudden withdrawal and convince her otherwise.

He was almost sure she was going to say yes, but then her phone pinged and she gave the display a harassed look.

‘I need to go,’ she said, her attention clearly torn between him and whoever had just messaged her. Her expression was distracted as she stood up hurriedly, her short curls swinging around her cheeks. ‘Thanks for being so nice about everything.’

She put her hand out, and Darius got to his feet as he took it. ‘Nice’ wasn’t the impression he wanted to leave her with. ‘Nice’ suggested she’d forget him the minute she stepped out of the hotel. And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

‘I’ll be in touch,’ he said, keeping her hand in his a fraction longer than strictly necessary.

She didn’t reply, but she blinked once, and he realised that she wasn’t quite as unaffected by him as she was pretending to be. It was a cheering thought, and he smiled as she walked away.

He’d found her intriguing—an unusual mix of the ultra-competent and the overcautious. And the attraction between them had been hot and instantaneous—if it hadn’t been a work meeting he would definitely have taken things further. As it was, he was forced to let her walk away with only a tepid assurance of being in touch later.

The smell of freshly baked bread wafted past, reminding Darius of how hungry he was. He glanced around. Eating alone had never appealed to him, and if he stayed Mallika’s boss might see him and come across to ask where Mallika was. He felt strangely protective of the intriguing woman he had only known for a couple of hours.

Mentally he ran through his options. Going home and ordering in. Calling up a friend and heading to a restaurant. Turning up at the excruciatingly boring corporate event he’d earlier declined.

The corporate event was the least appealing, but it would give him an opportunity to network with a bunch of people who could be useful to Nidas in the future. It wasn’t too far away, either, and if he left now he’d be able to get there, hang around for an hour or so and still get home in time to catch the last bulletin on his favourite news channel.

He was handing the attendant his valet parking ticket when he spotted Mallika getting into an expensive-looking chauffeur-driven car. She was talking on the phone, and he caught a few words before the doorman closed the door for her and the car zoomed off.

‘I’ll be home in twenty minutes,’ she was saying. ‘I told you I had a meeting, Aryan. No, I haven’t decided. I’ll talk to you later …’

Whoever Aryan was, he sounded like a possessive control freak. Darius frowned. He hadn’t asked Mallika, but he could have sworn she wasn’t married. No mangalsutra necklace or rings—but lots of married women didn’t wear those. And the way she’d looked at him for that one instant …

Darius shook himself. He was rarely wrong about these things, but meeting Mallika seemed to have seriously addled his brains. He was missing the obvious. She’d hardly have asked him to pretend to be her date if her boss knew that she had a husband.

Restored to his normal confidence once he’d figured that out, he tipped the valet parking attendant lavishly as he got into his car. Not married, and probably not in a serious relationship either. Hopefully this Aryan was her interior decorator, or her tax advisor, or someone equally inconsequential.

‘What d’you mean, she wasn’t interested?’

‘She doesn’t want to change jobs,’ Darius explained patiently.

He and Venkat had joined the Nidas Group on the same day, and had spent the last decade setting up the businesses they now headed. Darius was the stable, intelligent one—the brains behind most of what they’d achieved together. Venkat was a typical sales guy—competitive, pushy, and notoriously impatient. Outside of work he and Darius were close personal friends, but right now Venkat’s expression was that of a bulldog being asked to let go of a particularly juicy bone.

‘Why does she not want to change jobs? Did you tell her how much we’re willing to pay?’

‘I did,’ Darius said. ‘She said she doesn’t need the money.’

‘You need to meet her again,’ Venkat said flatly. ‘I have absolutely no clue about this fund management stuff, and if you’re leaving we’ll go under before you know it. This girl’s really good, and she seemed keen until she met you. I’d have thought it would be the exact opposite—girls usually fall for you on first sight. What in heaven’s name did you do to put her off?’

‘Told her that she’d be working with a bunch of total scumbags,’ Darius said, deadpan. ‘Look, I’m not prepared to let her go, either, but it will be better to give her some time to think things over and change her mind. I’ll make it happen. But in the meantime I’ve got a bunch of other CVs from HR. Some of them with equally impressive track records.’

Venkat grunted. ‘I’ll go through the CVs, but you need to work your magic with this girl. Otherwise you can jolly well put your exciting plans on hold and stay here until you can find someone to replace you. I’m terrible at all this HR sort of stuff—you’re the one who gets everyone eating out of your hand. Make this Mallika an offer she can’t refuse.’

Darius bit back a sigh. Once Venkat decided he wanted something he was like an unstoppable force of nature.

‘I’m a businessman, not a Mafia don,’ he said drily. ‘Let me do it my way. I have an idea on how to win her …’

CHAPTER TWO

THE FLAT WAS DARK when Mallika let herself in, and she felt a familiar pang of loss as she put the lights on and surveyed the empty living room. Nothing was the same without her parents, and having a brother who’d completely retreated into his shell emphasised her loneliness rather than reduced it.

It had been a gruelling week. Her job involved meeting builders and visiting construction sites and then spending hours hunched over her computer, calculating the possible return she’d get from each investment she made for her fund.

The Mumbai property market had been at its volatile best these last few months, and investors were wary. Which meant that there was a risk of projects stalling—which in turn meant that buyers who’d already invested found themselves with large amounts of capital locked up and no hope of returns in the short term. And the fund that Mallika worked for was seriously considering stopping investment in properties that were under construction.

The kitchen was dark as well. The cook would have gone home some hours ago, leaving dinner out in microwaveable dishes for Mallika and Aryan. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but dinner was the only meal she could make sure her brother actually ate.

The lights in his room were on, and she knocked before entering.

‘Aryan? Dinner?’ she asked, her heart twisting as she watched him hunch over his laptop. It was as if he didn’t see the world around him any more, finding reality in the flickering screen of his computer instead.

‘In a minute,’ he said, not even looking up.

‘Did you have lunch?’ she asked, and he shrugged.

‘Lalita gave me something,’ he said. ‘You go ahead and eat—you must be tired.’

It was a measure of how little she expected from him that she actually felt pleased he’d realised how exhausted she was. Leaving him to his computer, she went back to the kitchen—she’d make sure he had something to eat later.

For the last couple of days she’d not been able to get Darius out of her head. The way he’d looked at her, his smile, his voice—it felt as if she’d spent hours with him rather than just a few minutes.