Powerful Persuasion

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Dear Reader

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

Copyright

Dear Reader,

I always find it difficult to choose a title for a book, but I think Powerful Persuasion sums up this story very nicely. Luciano is without doubt a persuasive man, and he is certainly one of my favorite heroes.

This is my fifty-seventh romance over a period of twenty-two years, and I really do enjoy the challenge of writing for the Presents series. Romance was always my favorite genre—long before I began to write it.

I hope it is yours, too.

Best wishes,

Margaret Mayo

Powerful Persuasion

Margaret Mayo

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

CELENA’S heart missed a beat as she walked into the room. Quite what she had expected Luciano Segurini to look like she was not sure: certainly not quite so tall, or so imposing, or so magnificently male!

She had anticipated a powerful figure of a man, authority sitting easily on his shoulders, a man with massive self-confidence—he wouldn’t have got where he was today without it—but she had not envisaged someone whose very presence filled the room with raw sexuality; it was almost tangible.

He had shiny, jet-black hair, side-parted and swept back, a square chin and hollow cheeks which made him look somewhat gaunt, a long, straight nose, slightly flared at the nostrils, and a full lower lip. He was not conventionally handsome and yet the combination of all these features made him lethally attractive.

‘Miss Coulsden.’ His dark, velvet-brown eyes looked unnervingly into hers and he took her hand in a grip that threatened to crush every bone. It lasted, Celena felt, for much longer than was necessary, and afterwards it was difficult to restrain herself from rubbing life back into her tingling fingers.

‘Please, sit down.’

With a name like Segurini she had expected a foreign accent; instead he spoke perfect English, in a deep, gravelly voice that seduced her nerve-endings and sent dangerous waves of awareness through her body. She could not understand what was happening. She had come here for a job interview and instead was feeling disturbingly erotic sensations.

After her engagement to Andrew Holmes had ended so disastrously she had been careful never to let any man close again. She instinctively distrusted the whole male sex and had built a defensive wall around herself, cutting out of her life anyone who came close to dislodging even one brick. People said she had changed after Andrew and maybe she had, but it was her way of dealing with it

And when her parents had died in a skiing accident a couple of years later Celena had been glad she had not married him. Her younger sister, Davina, was at boarding-school and Celena determined to keep her there. Andrew would most definitely not have approved; he had had very firm views about paying for an education. He’d considered it a complete waste of money when there were perfectly adequate state schools. The fact that Celena herself had been to boarding-school had always been a bone of contention between them.

It was because of Andrew that she could not understand her chemical reaction to this man now, this stimulus from him to her. It made a mockery of her every effort to school herself against reacting to any man and she felt quite sure that he too would be horrified if he knew what thoughts were surging through her mind.

She sat thankfully. ‘Thank you.’

He waited until she was comfortable before seating himself behind a huge curved desk that was home to a battery of technological equipment. Any lesser man would have been dwarfed by it, but not Luciano Segurini. And when he tapped on a keyboard she noticed that he had very long fingers, square at the ends with well-manicured nails. Strong hands, strong fingers—no wonder they had almost pulverised her!

‘Now, let me see.’ It was almost as though he was talking to himself. ‘Celena Coulsden—single, age twenty-eight, five A levels, a distinction in design and graphics at Brampton College, began work at—’

‘Just a minute.’ Celena stopped him with an agitated movement of her hand and a frown of incredulity. ‘How did you gain all this information?’ It was unbelievable. Why had he considered it necessary to check on her like this? What else did he know? Her dress-size? Her shoe-size? Her favourite perfume? She felt distinctly uneasy. There was definitely something going on here that she did not understand.

First of all she’d been offered a job right out of the blue when she hadn’t even been looking for one, and now this amazing man was disclosing that he already had a very complete and very accurate file on her. Her heart raced again, through for a very different reason this time: she felt a deep sense of foreboding.

He smiled, showing very even, very white, very large teeth. If it was meant to reassure her it didn’t. It was a wolfish smile; he was the predator and she was his prey!

Go careful, Lena, she told herself. This man is highly dangerous.

‘There is nothing I cannot find out, Miss Coulsden—if I want to. There is nothing I cannot do.’

It was his unutterable confidence that astounded her. Had that been a threat? It had sounded ominous. She stood up, tall herself at five’ feet eight, and tossed back her shoulder-length auburn hair, her eyes a dark, stormy grey. ‘I think we’re wasting each other’s time, Mr Segurini. I should not have come. I’m perfectly happy in the job I have, thank you very much.’

She was dressed in startling, vibrant red—a colour which should have clashed outrageously with her hair but which somehow looked exactly right. She slung her black leather shoulder bag into place and headed for the door, but his imperative, ‘Wait!’ made her halt before she was even halfway across the room.

Slowly Celena turned, brown eyes meeting grey, his faintly amused, her own hostile and defensive, her chin high. Her heart began to thud. It had to be the uniqueness of the situation, not the man himself, she decided fiercely.

‘You are offended that I have already checked up on you?’ His clerical grey suit sat easily on wide shoulders, complemented by a white silk shirt and a red and grey Paisley silk tie.

‘As a matter of fact, yes I am,’ she answered, and was appalled to hear how husky her voice sounded. She cleared her throat ‘I’m not even working for you and yet you have a dossier on me. I find that totally unacceptable.’

‘I think you’ll agree that in this day and age most people are on computer lists somewhere. It is surprising how much information is held by all sorts of people—your bank manager, for instance; he probably knows a lot more about you than you think.’

‘Maybe,’ she conceded with a shrug, ‘but why you?’

He smiled—again the wolfish smile that sent shivers down her spine. ‘Think about it, Miss Coulsden; I would hardly offer a job, especially such an important job, to someone I knew nothing about’

‘Agreed,’ she said, wondering briefly what he meant by important ‘But how did you come by all this information? We have never met, have we? How did you know about me? Why do you want me in particular? I am sure there must be plenty of other copywriters who come up to the standard you require.’

He inclined his head thoughtfully to one side and pursed his lips. ‘You have forged an excellent reputation for yourself. The ads you have handled have been some of the most successful run by your company.’

Celena was always modest about her success. She shrugged. ‘I simply write the words.’

‘But what words.’ He looked at her approvingly.

She ignored the triggering of her senses.

‘What I do not understand is why you have concentrated on that side of advertising when you have the talent for design.’

‘I enjoy it more,’ she said simply.

‘And I want you on my team.’ It was a dark declaration. There is nothing I cannot do.’ His earlier words rang in Celena’s ears. He wanted her and meant to have her—whether she wished it or not!

To begin with, when she had received Luciano Segurini’s offer, she had felt flattered and surprised—yes, very surprised, shocked even, but intrigued also, and pleased that he thought her good enough to join Luse, one of England’s top advertising agencies. It would be to her advantage, he’d said, which she’d taken to mean that he would be offering her a higher salary than she was getting now—and how useful that would be.

She had lain awake at night recently, wondering how she could afford Davina’s next term’s boarding-school fees. What money her parents had left had already been eaten up, although Davina did not know that, and Celena would have worked night and day rather than disclose this fact. Her sister was intensely happy at her school—it was the same one Celena herself had attended—and it could affect her whole education if she had to leave now.

Celena had inevitably wondered why Luciano Segurini had chosen her for this job, how he knew about her even, coming up with the deduction that most agencies kept an eye on their competitors. People talked; it was not inconceivable that he had heard about her.

He’d been right when he’d said that she had had a fair amount of success. In fact Hillier and Jones were extremely proud of her and it was doubtful whether they would let her go. She had not even told them that she was coming for this interview. It was curiosity alone that had led her here. And now, because of her astonishing reaction to this man, and because he already knew so much about her, she was beginning to wish that she had not been so tempted. It was an eerie feeling knowing that she had been checked on so thoroughly.

‘I want you to work on the most important undertaking of my life.’

Celena looked at him with a questioning frown.

‘You are the very person I have been looking for. You have exactly the right qualifications.’

‘I would imagine,’ she said tightly, ‘that with the success your company has achieved over the years you already have a highly qualified team.’

‘There is always room for improvement,’ he told her.

‘New blood, you mean. Have you been let down? Are you a man short, is that it?’

He gave a twisted smile that seemed to sit unhappily on his lips. ‘Yes, I’ve been let down—badly, as it happens. Will you take the job, Celena?’

She hardly noticed the fact that he had used her first name. Her eyes were on his mouth, on that full, sensual bottom lip, and she wondered what it would be like to be kissed by this man.

When she realised that he appeared to be waiting for an answer she came to with a guilty start. ‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’

‘I’ll offer you double whatever it is you’re earning now.’

Her finely moulded brows rose. ‘Take a look at your screen, Mr Segurini; I’m sure it will tell you exactly what my present salary is.’

He smiled his appreciation. ‘As a matter of fact, yes, it does. It also tells me that you do not have a current boyfriend. Why is that? You’re a very beautiful lady, Celena; you’re—’

Her eyes flashed. ‘My private life has nothing to do with my business life. You have no right prying.’ She wondered whether he knew about her sister as well, and about the struggle she had to make ends meet—whether he knew that the temptation to accept his offer would be very strong.

He grinned. ‘Actually it was pure and simple conjecture. But—I assume from your outrage that I am right. And that is good, because I shall expect you to work long hours and I do not want an irate boyfriend breathing down my neck.’

‘I’ve not yet said I’ll take the job,’ Celena snapped, annoyed that he had tricked her.

‘You’d be foolish not to,’ he said. ‘You’ll be set up for life.’

‘Life, Mr Segurini?’ she exploded. ‘I’m not giving my life to you.’

‘But you are interested?’ A confident smile played about his lips.

‘I have a contract which—’

‘Which can easily be broken,’ he insisted. ‘In any case, I understand that Hillier and Jones have hit a bad patch; there are redundancies in the offing. You could soon find yourself out of a job altogether.’

Celena looked at him sharply and suspiciously. ‘It’s news to me.’ She half suspected that he was making it up.

‘But it’s true,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘What is your answer?’

She shook her head. ‘I cannot possibly give you one now. I cannot make such an important decision without giving it considerable thought.’

His eyes were steady on hers. ‘What is there to think about?’

‘A lot of things. For instance, would I be working directly under you?’

‘We’re a team, Celena.’ The predatory smile was back in place. ‘We work together.’

It was no answer at all as far as she was concerned.

‘Sit down,’ he said. ‘I’ll ask my secretary to bring you in some coffee. I have someone to see; I’ll be back in ten minutes.’

And that was all the time he was giving her! What would he do, she wondered, if she said no? Would he offer her even more money? It was already a ridiculously high salary, far more than she was worth, although she wouldn’t argue about that, and it would be extremely useful. In fact his offer was a lifeline, especially if Hillier and Jones were going out of business. It both confused and stunned her that she had heard no rumours to this effect.

But her main problem was Luciano Segurini himself, or at least her reaction to him. It set alarm bells jangling in her head, so loud that they threatened to deafen her. There was a strong danger that he could infiltrate her defences almost without her being aware of it.

Unless she was worrying for nothing! She’d never had much to do with Howard Hillier, the head of her present company, so maybe she wouldn’t see very much of this man either. It would be stupid to turn down such an exceptional offer simply because she was afraid of this charismatic man, afraid of what he might do to her emotions. And yet she could not help thinking that there was something else behind it, something he wasn’t telling her, some other more devious reason than needing a good copywriter.

Ten minutes had never passed so quickly. The sparsely furnished and yet functional office had settled down when he’d left, but the instant he returned it was filled with crackling electricity—and Celena’s mind was not made up.

‘Well, Celena?’

For the first time she realised that he was addressing her by her first name and she was not sure that she liked the familiarity. Actually no one ever called her Celena—everyone used the shortened form, Lena.

Nor did he resume his seat; instead he sat on the edge of his desk facing her, hands supporting him on either side, long legs outstretched. He was so close that she could smell the discreet, expensive aftershave he wore and it added to the drugging of her senses. No man had ever affected her like this, not so suddenly, not so violently—not against her will! Not even Andrew whom she had thought that she loved.

There was a pain in her chest where her heart pounded, a tightening of her throat, and she looked up at him and felt frightened. ‘I—I can’t take this job, Mr Segurini’

‘And why not, Celena?’ A smile curved his lips though it did not reach his eyes, revealing his displeasure at her refusal.

‘I need to find out whether it’s true what you say about Hillier and Jones.’

‘And when you find it is, what excuse will you use then?’

Celena drew in a deep breath. ‘It’s all very irregular, Mr Segurini. I cannot help feeling suspicious.’

‘Are you saying the extra money would not be useful?’ His voice was deep and disconcerting, sending shivers down her spine and uneasy sensations to the pit of her stomach.

‘I guess money is always useful,’ she admitted, ‘but it’s not always the answer.’ And why the hell was she procrastinating? Why didn’t she jump in with both feet and take his offer? Lord, she was a fool.

He pushed himself away from the desk and moved to the back of her chair, resting his hands on it and lowering himself so that his mouth was close to her ear. ‘You’re an amazing woman, Celena Coulsden.’

The soft words vibrated through every limb, through every nerve. She knew what he was doing—he was using his sensuality, confident that he would get through to her this way.

Fear struck. Surely he hadn’t guessed that she already felt an unnerving response? Surely she hadn’t given herself away? No, she was confident that she hadn’t. He was playing games, certain that he would come out on top.

She moved quickly, pushing herself to her feet, dodging away from him. ‘This is a very unorthodox interview, Mr Segurini.’

‘I’m an unorthodox man.’ It was a low growl, coming from somewhere deep in his throat. It set Celena’s whole body tingling.

‘Do you always use your sex appeal to get what you want?’ She kept her voice cool, her chin high. Since Andrew she had had plenty of practice at keeping the wolves at bay. She had a classically beautiful face with high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes and a wide, generous mouth, and these combined with her willowy figure and her thick auburn hair made her the target of many men’s attention. She had got used to fending off their advances and now she gave Luciano Segurini one of her most damning looks.

His mouth twitched at the corners. ‘Was that what I was doing?’

‘It looked very much like it to me,’ she retorted crossly.

‘I wasn’t aware of the fact.’

‘Really?’ she asked disbelievingly.

‘I think your imagination is working overtime,’ he told her as he slid into the chair that she had vacated and put his feet up on the edge of the desk. ‘However, if I’m getting through to you, if I’m managing to persuade you that you would be doing both yourself and me a favour by taking this job, then it’s not a bad thing.’ He folded his arms and looked totally relaxed.

Celena was not deceived; he was still in complete command of the situation, though she was glad of the few feet that were now between them, and more especially of the advantage his sitting down had given her. She looked at him coldly. ‘You’re not getting through to me. As a matter of fact your behaviour is convincing me that I would be making a fatal mistake in accepting your offer.’

He frowned and sprang to his feet, his movements fluid despite the anger that surged through him. ‘My sincere apologies, Miss Coulsden. I thought the informality would help. Obviously I was wrong.’ He returned to his side of the desk and stood looking at her, and there was nothing now on his face to suggest that this was anything other than a normal job interview.

‘And you were wrong in assuming I would jump at this opportunity,’ she declared fiercely. ‘I think we have nothing further to say. Good morning, Mr Segurini.’ And even the fact that she knew she would regret her hastiness later did not make her change her mind.

To her amazement he let her go; he let her walk out of the room without saying another word, and when she got back to her office and made a few discreet enquiries she discovered that every word Luciano Segurini had said was true. It looked as though she was going to be jobless and penniless and Davina would definitely have to pull out of her school. The thought both saddened and distressed her.

* * *

That evening when she got home from work there was an enormous bouquet of white roses awaiting her. She picked them up from the doorstep and looked curiously at the card.

To the most amazing woman I have ever met. The offer is still open if you should change your mind. I will be in touch.

It was not signed—it did not have to be—and while Celina was relieved, financially, that she might be offered the job all over again she groaned inwardly at the thought that there could be another confrontation with the most amazing man she had ever met. So far she had told no one of her experience, having used the excuse of a dental appointment to cover her absence, and now she opened the door and moved inside.

When her parents had died she had sold their draughty Victorian house in Norfolk and moved nearer to London and her job, and this cosy mews house suited her very well. If it hadn’t been for Davina’s school fees she would have managed quite comfortably—as things stood it was a definite struggle.

She dropped the flowers on the kitchen worktop, contemplating whether to relegate them to the dustbin. If she dared put them in a vase they would be a constant reminder of the man who had had such a profound effect on her in such a short space of time. She took a shower and slipped into a comfortable jade-green silk jumpsuit

She prepared her evening meal—cold chicken left over from Sunday, with a green salad and new potatoes—and still the sweet-smelling roses lay where she had left them. She had just finished eating when the doorbell rang. As she was constantly being pestered by callers Celena was tempted not to answer—until it rang again and whoever it was kept a finger on the button.

Normally before opening the door Celena made sure that the safety chain was in place. On this occasion, however, she snatched it open without even thinking, intent on giving whoever it was a piece of her mind. Her mouth fell open. ‘Mr Segurini! What are you doing here?’

He smiled unnervingly. ‘I’m checking that my flowers arrived safely.’

Celena’s eyes were guarded. ‘A phone call would have sufficed. And yes, they have, thank you very much, though I can’t think why you sent them.’

‘I hope you like white roses.’ His thickly fringed eyes made a slow and thorough appraisal of her body, starting at the tip of her pink-painted toenails, rising slowly, pausing fractionally on her breasts, and again on her mouth, then coming to a complete halt when they reached her eyes.

Celena felt breathless. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. They were her favourite, though he couldn’t have known that.

‘It’s a pity that when one orders flowers one never actually gets to see them.’

‘If you’re after an invite into my house then you’re out of luck.’ She desperately tried to quell the surging of her senses. He had changed into a pair of lightweight blue trousers and a matching cashmere sweater, the casual clothes emphasising his hard-muscled body, making him an even more dangerous adversary. Her mind might tell her that he was not to be trusted, but her body certainly had no such reservations.

‘I thought perhaps we could go out for a drink, get to know each other better, discuss my offer in more detail.’ He smiled as he spoke, his brown eyes still intent on hers.

The audacity of the man! Celena’s heart leapt but she made herself frown, saying crossly, ‘Don’t you ever take no for an answer?’

‘Not if I really want something.’

‘And you want me?’ It was the wrong thing to have said; she felt a flush coming to her cheeks, which was insane—she hadn’t blushed in years. Celena decided to rephrase her question. ‘I mean, you want me to work for you?’

His lips twitched as he recognised her discomfiture. ‘You’re perfect for the job.’