Kidnapped For The Tycoon's Baby

Gritting her teeth, she leaned back in her chair, trying to match his nonchalance.

Watching her fingers curl into a fist around her pen, Ram smiled slowly. ‘I don’t know whether to be disappointed or impressed by you, Ms Mason. It usually takes people a lot less than two months to realise I’m arrogant and unreasonable. However, they don’t tend to say it to my face. Either way, though, I’m not inclined to change my mind. Or permit you to change yours. You see, I only have one thousand four hundred and forty minutes in any day, and I don’t like to waste them on ill-thought-out negotiations like this one.’

Watching the flush of colour spread over her pale skin, he felt a stab of satisfaction. She had got under his skin; now he had not got under hers, And he was going to make sure it stung.

‘I gave you a budget—a very generous budget—and I see no reason to increase it on the basis of some whim.’

Nola glared at him. ‘This is not a whim, Mr Walker. It is a response to your email informing me that the software launch date has been brought forward by six weeks.’

Had he stuck to the original deadline, the new system would have been up and running for several months prior to the launch, giving her ample time to iron out any glitches. Now, though, the team she’d hired and trained for RWI would have to work longer hours to run all the necessary checks, and overtime meant more money.

Ram leaned forward. ‘I run a business—a very successful one—that is currently paying your salary, and part of that success comes from knowing my market inside out. And this software needs to be on sale as soon as possible. And by “as soon as possible” I mean now.’

She blinked trying to break the spell of his eyes on hers and the small taunting smile on his lips.

Taking a breath, she steadied herself. ‘I understand that. But now changes things. Now is expensive. But not nearly as expensive as it will be when your system gets hacked.’

‘That sounds awfully like a threat, Ms Mason.’

She took another quick breath, her hand lifting instinctively to her throat. Feeling the blood pulsing beneath her fingertips, she straightened her spine.

‘That’s because it is. But better that it comes from me than them. Hackers break the rules, which means I have to break the rules. The difference is that I’m not about to steal or destroy or publicise your data. Nor am I going to extort money from you.’

‘Not true.’ The corner of his mouth lifted, as though she had made a joke, but there was no laughter in his eyes. ‘Okay, you don’t sneak in through the back door. You just give me one of those butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-your-mouth smiles and put an invoice on my desk!’

‘I can protect your company, Mr Walker. But I can’t do that if my hands are tied behind my back.’

He tilted his head, his expression shifting, his dark gaze locking onto her face. ‘Of course not. But, personally, I never let anyone tie me up unless we’ve decided on a safe word beforehand. Maybe you should do the same.’

There was some nervous laughter around the table. But before she could respond, he twisted in his seat and gestured vaguely towards the door.

‘I need to have a private conversation with Ms Mason.’

Stomach churning, Nola watched as the men and women filed silently out of the room. Finally the door closed with a quiet click and she felt a ripple of apprehension slither over her skin as she waited for him to speak.

But he didn’t say anything. Instead he simply stared out of the window at the blue sky, his face calm and untroubled.

Her heartbeat accelerated. Damn him! She knew he was making her wait, proving his power. If only she could tell him where to put his job. But this contract was not only paying her and Anna’s wages, RWI was a global brand—a household name—and getting a good reference would propel their company, Cyber Angels, into the big time.

So, willing herself to stay cool-headed, she sat as the silence spread to the four corners of the room. Finally he pushed back his seat and stood up. Her pulse twitched in her throat as she watched him walk slowly around the table and come to a halt in front of her.

‘You’re costing me a great deal of money already. And now you’re about to cost me a whole lot more.’ He stared at her coolly. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing else you’d like, Nola? This table, perhaps? My car? Maybe the shirt off my back?’

He was looking for her to react. Which meant she should stay silent and seated. But it was the first time he had said her name, and hearing it spoken in that soft, sexy drawl caught her off guard.

She jerked to her feet, her body acting independently, tasting the sharp tang of adrenaline in her mouth.

Instantly she knew she’d made a mistake. She was close enough to reach out and touch that beautifully shaped mouth. In other words, too close. Walk away, she shouted silently. Better still, run! But for some reason her legs wouldn’t do what her brain was suggesting.

Instead, she glowered at him, her blue eyes darkening with anger. ‘Yes, that’s right, Mr Walker. That’s exactly what I want. The shirt off your back.’

But it wasn’t. What she really wanted was to turn the tables. Goad him into losing control. Make him feel this same conflicted, confusing mass of fear and frustration and desire.

His fingers were hovering over the top button of his shirt, his eyes holding hers. ‘You’re sure about that?’ he said softly.

The menacing undertone beneath the softness cut through her emotion and brought her to her senses.

At the other end of a table, surrounded by people, Ram Walker was disturbing, distracting. But up close and unchaperoned he was formidable.

And she was out of her depth.

Breathing in sharply, she shook her head, her pulse quickening with helpless anger as he gave her a small satisfied smile.

‘And I thought you liked breaking the rules.’

His eyes gleamed and she knew he was goading her again, but she didn’t care. Right now all she wanted was to be somewhere far away from this man who seemed to have the power to turn her inside out and off balance.

‘Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?’ he asked with an exaggerated politeness that seemed designed to test her self-control.

He waited until she shook her head, and then, turning, he walked towards the door.

‘I’ll speak to the accountants today.’

It was with relief bordering on delirium that she watched him leave the room.

* * *

Back in her office, she sat down behind her desk and let out a jagged breath.

Her hands were trembling and she felt hot and dizzy.

Leaning back in her chair, she picked up her notebook and a pencil. She knew it was anachronistic for a techie like herself to use pen and paper, but her mother had always used a notebook. Besides, it helped her clear her mind and unwind—and right now, with Ram Walker’s goading words running on a loop round her head, she needed all the help she could get.

But she had barely flipped open her notebook when her phone buzzed. She hesitated before picking it up. If it was Ram, she was going to let it ring out. Her nerves were still jangling from their last encounter, and she couldn’t face another head-to-head right now. But glancing at the screen, she felt a warm rush of happiness.

It was Anna.

A chat with her best friend would be the perfect antidote to that showdown with Ram.

‘Hey, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Why are you calling me? This is your honeymoon. Shouldn’t you be gazing into Robbie’s eyes, or writhing about with him on some idyllic beach?’

Hearing Anna’s snort of laughter, she realised just how much she was missing her easy-going friend and business partner.

‘I promise you, sex on the beach is overrated! Sand gets everywhere. And I mean everywhere.’

‘Okay, too much information, Mrs Harris.’ She began to doodle at the edges of the paper.

‘Oh, Noles, you have no idea how weird it is to be Mrs Somebody, let alone Mrs Harris.’

‘No idea at all! And planning to stay that way,’ she said lightly.

Marriage had never been high on her to-do list. She was happy for Anna, of course. But her parents’ divorce had left her wary of making vows and promises. And her disastrous relationship with Connor had only reinforced her instinctive distrust of the sort of trust and intimacy that marriage required.

Anna giggled. ‘Every time anyone calls me that I keep thinking my mother-in-law’s here. It’s terrifying!’

She and Nola both burst out laughing.

‘So why are you ringing me?’ Nola said finally, when she could speak again.

‘Well, we were at the pool, and Robbie got talking to this guy, and guess what? He’s a neurosurgeon too. So you can imagine what happened next.’

Nola nodded. Anna’s husband had recently been appointed as a consultant at one of Edinburgh’s top teaching hospitals. He was as passionate about his work as he was about his new wife.

‘Anyway, I left them yapping on about central core function and some new scanner, and that made me think of you, slogging away in Sydney all on your own. So I thought I’d give you a call and see how everything’s going...’

Tucking the phone against her shoulder, Nola rolled her eyes. ‘Everything’s fine. There was a bit of a problem this morning, but nothing I couldn’t handle.’

She paused, felt a betraying flush of colour spreading over her cheeks, and was grateful that Anna was on the end of a phone and not in the same room.

There was a short silence. Then, ‘So, you and Ramsay Walker are getting on okay?’

Nola frowned.

‘Yes...’ She hesitated. ‘Well, no. Not really. It’s complicated. But it’s okay,’ she said quickly, as Anna made a noise somewhere between a wail and groan.

‘I knew I should have postponed the honeymoon! Please tell me you haven’t done anything stupid.’

Nola swallowed. She had—but thankfully only in the safe zone of her imagination.

‘We had a few words about the budget, but I handled it and it’s fine. I promise.’

‘That’s good.’ She heard Anna breathe out. ‘Look, Noles, I know you think he’s arrogant and demanding—’

‘It’s not a matter of opinion, Anna. It’s a fact. He is arrogant and demanding.’

And spoiled. How could he not be? He was the only son and heir to a fortune; his every whim had probably been indulged from birth. He might like to boast that he said no to almost everything, but she was willing to bet an entire year’s salary that nobody had ever said no to him.

‘I know,’ her friend said soothingly. ‘But for the next twenty-four hours he’s still the boss. And if we get a good reference from him we’ll basically be able to print money. We might even be able to pay off our loan.’ She giggled. ‘Besides, you have to admit that there are some perks working for him.’

‘Anna Harris, you’re a married woman. You shouldn’t be having thoughts like that.’

‘Why not? I love my Robbie, but Ram Walker is gorgeous.’

Laughing reluctantly, Nola shook her head. ‘He is so not your type, Anna.’

‘If you believe that you must have been looking too long into that big old Australian sun! He’s every woman’s type. As long as they’re breathing.’

Opening her mouth, wanting to disagree, to deny what she knew to be true, Nola glanced down at her notepad, at the sketch she had made of Ram.

Who was she trying to kid?

‘Fine. He’s gorgeous. Happy now?’

But as she swung round in her seat her words froze on her lips, and Anna’s response was lost beneath the sudden deafening beat of her heart.

Lounging in the open doorway, his muscular body draped against the frame, Ram Walker was watching her with a mocking gaze that told her he had clearly heard her last remark.

There was no choice but to front it out. Acknowledging his presence with a small, tight smile, she closed her notebook carefully and, as casually as she could manage, said, ‘Okay, that all sounds fine. Send the data over as soon as possible and I’ll take a look at it.’

Ignoring Anna’s confused reply, she hung up.

Her heart was ricocheting against her ribs.

‘Mr Walker. How can I help you?’

He stared at her calmly, his grey eyes holding her captive.

‘Let’s not worry about that now,’ he said easily. ‘Why don’t we talk about how I can help you?’

She stared at him in silence. Where was this conversation going?

‘I don’t understand—you want to help me?’

‘Of course. You’re only with us one more day, and I want to make that time as productive as possible. Which is why I want you to have dinner with me this evening.’

‘You mean tonight?’

Her voice sounded too high, and she felt her cheeks grow hot as he raised an eyebrow.

‘Well, it can’t be any other night,’ he said slowly. ‘You’re flying home tomorrow, aren’t you?’

Nola licked her lips nervously, a dizzying heat sliding over her skin. Dinner with her billionaire boss might sound like a dream date, but frankly it was a risk she wasn’t prepared to take.

‘That would be lovely. Obviously,’ she lied. ‘But I’ve got a couple of meetings, and the one with the tactical team at five will probably overrun.’

He locked eyes with her.

‘Oh, don’t worry. I cancelled it.’

She gazed at him in disbelief, and then a ripple of anger flickered over her skin.

‘You cancelled it?’

He nodded. ‘It seemed easier. So is seven-thirty okay?’

‘Okay?’ she spluttered. ‘No, it’s not okay. You can’t just march in and cancel my meetings for a dinner date.’

He raised an eyebrow and took a step backwards. ‘Date? Is that why you’re so flustered? I’m sorry to disappoint you, Ms Mason, but I’m afraid we won’t be alone.’

His words made her heart hammer against her chest, and a hot flush of embarrassment swept across her face. She was suddenly so angry she wanted to scream.

‘I don’t want to be alone with you,’ she snapped, her hands curling into fists. ‘Why would I want that?’

He smiled at her mockingly. ‘I suppose for the same reason as any other woman in your position. Sadly, though, I’ve invited some people I think you should meet. They’ll be good for your business.’

She stared at him mutely, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn’t result in her being fired on the spot.

His gaze shifted from her face to her fists, grey eyes gleaming like polished pewter.

‘Nothing else to say? You disappoint me, Ms Mason! I was hoping for at least one devastating comeback. Okay, I’ll pick you up from your hotel later. Be ready. And don’t worry about thanking me now. You can do that later too.’

‘But I’ve got to pack!’ she called after him, the bottleneck of words in her throat finally bursting.

But it was too late. He’d gone.

Staring after him, Nola felt a trickle of fury run down her spine. Any other woman in your position. How dared he lump her in with all his other wannabe conquests? He was impossible, overbearing and conceited.

But as a hot, swift shiver ran through her body she swore under her breath, for if that was true then why did he still affect her in this way?

Well, it was going to stop now.

Standing up, she stormed across her office and slammed the door.

Breathing out hard, she stared at her shaking hands. It felt good to give way to frustration and anger. But closing a door was easy. She had a horrible feeling that keeping Ram Walker out of her head, even when she was back in Scotland, was going to be a whole lot harder.

CHAPTER TWO

FROM HIS OFFICE on the twenty-second floor, Ram stared steadily out of the window at the Pacific Ocean. The calm expression on his face in no way reflected the turmoil inside his head.

Something was wrong. He looked down at the file he was supposed to be reading and frowned. For starters, he was sleeping badly, and he had a near permanent headache. But worst of all he was suffering from a frustrating and completely uncharacteristic inability to focus on what was important to him. His business.

Or it had been important to him right up until the moment he’d walked into that backstreet café and met Nola Mason.

A prickling tension slid down his spine and his chest squeezed tighter.

Down in the bay, a yacht cut smoothly through the waves. But for once his eyes didn’t follow its progress. Instead it was the clear, sparkling blue of the water that drew his gaze.

His jaw tightened, pulling the skin across the high curves of his cheekbones.

Two months ago his life had been perfect. But one particular woman, whose eyes were the exact shade as the ocean, had turned that life upside down.

Nola.

He ran the syllables slowly over his tongue. Before he’d met her the name had simply been an acronym for New Orleans—or the Big Easy, as it was also known. His eyes narrowed. But any connection between Nola Mason and the city straddling the Mississippi ended there. Nola might be many things—sexy, smart and seriously good at her job. But she wasn’t easy. In fact she was unique among women in that she seemed utterly impervious to his charms.

Thinking back to their conversation in the boardroom, remembering the way she had stood up to him in front of the directors, he felt the same mix of frustration, admiration and desire that seemed to define every single contact he had with her.

It was a mix of feelings that was entirely new to him.

Normally women tripped over themselves to please him. They certainly never kept him at arm’s length, or spouted ‘workplace considerations’ as a reason for turning him down.

Turning him down! Even just thinking the words inside his head made him see every shade of red. Nobody had ever turned him down—in the boardroom or the bedroom.

He glanced down at the unread report, but there was no place to hide from the truth: despite the fact that his instincts were screaming at him to keep his distance, he couldn’t stop thinking about Nola and her refusal to sleep with him. Her stupid, logical, perfectly justified refusal to break the rules. Her rules.

He closed the file with a snap. His rules too.

And that was what was really driving him crazy. The fact that up until a couple of months ago he would have agreed with her. Workplace relationships were a poisoned chalice. They caused tension and upset. And not once had he ever been tempted to break those rules and sleep with an employee.

Only Nola Mason was not just a temptation.

She was a virus in his blood.

No. His mouth twisted. She was more like malware in his system, stealthily undermining his strength, his stability, his sanity.

But there was a cure.

His groin hardened.

He knew what it was, and so did she.

He’d seen it in the antagonism flickering in those blue eyes, heard it in the huskiness of her voice. And her resistance, her refusal to acknowledge it was merely fuelling his desire. His anticipation of the moment when finally she surrendered to him.

He tossed the file onto his desk, feeling a pulsing, breathless excitement scrabbling up inside him.

Of course, being Nola, she would offer a truce, not a surrender. Those eyes, that mouth, might suggest an uninhibited sensuality, but he sensed that the determined slant of her chin was not just a pose adopted for business but a reflection of how she behaved out of work and in bed.

Picturing Nola, her blue eyes narrowing into fierce slits as she straddled his naked body, he felt his spine melt into his chair. But truces could only happen if both parties came to the table—which was why he’d invited her to dinner. Not an intimate, candlelit tryst. He knew Nola, and she would have instantly rejected anything so blatant. But now she knew it was to be a business dinner at a crowded restaurant, she would relax—hell, they might even end up sharing a dessert.

His mouth curved up into a satisfied smile. Or, better still, they could save dessert until they got back to his penthouse.

* * *

So this was what it felt like to be famous, Nola thought as she walked self-consciously between the tables in the exclusive restaurant Ram had chosen. It was certainly an experience, although she wasn’t sure it was one she’d ever want to repeat.

The Wool Shed was the hottest dining ticket in town, but even though it was midweek, and the award-winning restaurant was packed, to her astonishment Ram hadn’t bothered to book. For any normal person that would have meant looking for somewhere else to eat. Clearly those rules didn’t apply to Ram Walker, for now, within seconds of his arrival, the maître d’ was leading them to a table with a view across the bay to the Opera House.

‘I think I may have told our guests that dinner was at eight, so it’s going to be just the two of us for a bit. Sorry about that.’

Nola stared at him warily. He didn’t sound sorry; he sounded completely unrepentant. Meeting his gaze, she saw that he didn’t look sorry either. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the uneasiness that was clearly written all over her face.

Sliding into the seat he’d pulled out, Nola breathed out carefully. ‘That’s fine. It’ll give you a chance to brief me on our mystery guests.’

She felt him smile behind her. ‘Of course—and don’t worry, your chaperones will arrive very soon. I promise.’

Gritting her teeth, she watched him drop gracefully into the chair beside her. At work it had been easy to tell herself that the tension between them was just some kind of personality clash or a battle of wills. Now, though, she could see that ever since she’d met Ram that first time, the battle had been raging inside her.

A battle between her brain and her body...between common sense and her basest carnal urges. And, much as she would have liked to deny it, or pretend it wasn’t true, the sexual pull between them was as real and tangible as the bottles of still and sparkling water on the table. So much so that only by pressing her fingers into the armrests of her chair could she stop herself from reaching out to touch the smooth curve of his jaw.

Her hand twitched. It was like trying to ignore a mosquito bite. The urge to scratch was overwhelming.

But surely walking into this restaurant with him was just what she’d needed to remind her why it was best not to give in to that urge—for Ram wasn’t just her boss. He was way out of her league.

In a room filled with beautiful people, he was the unashamed focus of every eye. As he’d strolled casually to their table conversations had dwindled and even the waiters had seemed to freeze; it had been as though everyone in the restaurant had taken a sort of communal breath.

And it was easy to see why.

Glancing up, she felt a jolt of hunger spike inside her.

There was something about him that commanded attention. Of course he looked amazing—each feature, from his long dark eyelashes to the tiny scar on his cheekbone, looked as though it had been lovingly executed by an artist. But it wasn’t just his dark, sculpted looks that tugged at the senses. He had a quality of certainty that was unique, compelling, irresistible.

He was the ultimate cool boy at school, she decided. And now he was sitting next to her, his arm resting casually over the back of her chair, the scent of his cologne making a dizzy heat spread over her skin.

Unable to stop herself, she glanced sideways and felt her breath catch in her throat.

He was just too ridiculously beautiful.

As though sensing her focus, he turned, and the air was punched out of her lungs as his dark grey gaze scanned her face.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing,’ she lied. ‘Are you going to tell me who we’re meeting?’ She tried to arrange her expression into that same mix of casual and professional that he projected so effortlessly. ‘Are they local?’

‘They’re a little bigger than just Australia. It’s Craig Aldin and Will Fraser. They own—’

‘A&F Freight,’ she finished his sentence. ‘That’s the—’