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British Bachelors: Rich and Powerful: What His Money Can't Hide / His Temporary Mistress / Trouble on Her Doorstep
British Bachelors: Rich and Powerful: What His Money Can't Hide / His Temporary Mistress / Trouble on Her Doorstep

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British Bachelors: Rich and Powerful: What His Money Can't Hide / His Temporary Mistress / Trouble on Her Doorstep

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It had been her hope to present an image of relaxed composure when she saw him, but now there was no chance of that. Why, oh, why could she never seem to prevent her feelings from showing on her face like some people could? Forget composure. Her big-eyed ‘caught in the headlamps’ expression made her resemble a frightened rabbit rather than a determined young woman intent on taking a potentially volatile situation firmly into her own hands …

‘Do you have an appointment with Mr Ashton?’

Drake’s efficient, intimidating blonde secretary was like a sentry at the gates of Rome, suddenly alerted to an impending invasion. As she stood behind the desk with her arms folded her diamond chip blue eyes sternly raked over Layla’s appearance, as if silently warning her that it was going to take a minor miracle to get past her to see Drake.

‘No, I don’t.’ Swallowing hard, Layla knew her smile was uncertain and strained. ‘I thought—I thought I’d surprise him.’

The sound of Drake’s deep voice suddenly bellowing at someone behind the closed glass door that she knew led into his office made her start. The secretary’s coral painted lips stretched briefly in an ironic smile.

‘Somehow I don’t think my boss is remotely in the mood for surprises, Miss …?’

‘Jerome.’

‘Yes, of course. You were here the other evening, weren’t you? Except he was expecting you then.’

‘Yes. He was. Look, I’ve come a long way to see him today. Can you at least tell him that I’m here?’

‘I know you must be a friend of his, but I’m afraid I can’t. His diary is full for the whole afternoon. Why don’t you leave your phone number? Or you can write a message if you’d prefer? I’ll make sure that he gets it.’

The other woman perfunctorily pushed a lined pad and a pen across the contemporary glass desk that right then seemed to symbolise an insurmountable barrier Layla couldn’t cross. Frozen by indecision, her teeth worrying at her lip, she numbly picked up the pen, then stared down at the writing paper feeling wretched. It had obviously not been one of her better decisions to turn up at Drake’s office unannounced. Perhaps she could find a café somewhere nearby and try to reach him on his mobile?

Just as she leant over the pad to write a message his office door opened and he stepped out. Wearing a sky-blue fitted sweater that hugged his hard-muscled lean frame, and dark blue jeans that highlighted his strong long-boned thighs, he too was dressed much more informally today. But she barely had time to realise much else, because he came to an immediate standstill and stared at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. His piercing silvery gaze made her insides flutter wildly. Behind him, a well-built man dressed in a grey pinstriped suit, carrying what looked like some rolled-up technical drawings, stole the chance to slip away discreetly before his boss noticed that he was gone.

‘Layla. To what do I owe the honour?’ Drake’s almost languorous drawl was tinged with the faintest mockery.

Lying the pen back down on the pad, Layla quelled the flurry of nerves that seized her and straightened up to face him. ‘I thought I’d surprise you,’ she told him.

‘Well, you’ve certainly accomplished that.’

‘I missed your call last night.’

‘Yes, you did. Still … you’re here now. Do you want some coffee?’

Before Layla had the chance to reply he turned to his secretary and said, ‘Monica? Can you get me and my visitor some coffee, please?’

‘Have you forgotten that you’ve got an appointment with Sir Edwin Dodd in twenty minutes, Mr Ashton?’

‘Ring him and put him off, will you? Tell him something important has come up.’

The efficient Monica couldn’t hide her dismay, or the fact that she was suddenly quite flustered. Layla almost felt sorry for her.

‘This is a longstanding appointment … don’t you remember? He’s probably already on his way, and I don’t think he’ll take too kindly to being put off at the last minute.’

As he folded his arms her boss’s glance was formidably steely. ‘Am I labouring under the misconception that I’m the one in charge round here?’

‘Of course not. I apologise if I was a little too blunt. I’ll ring Sir Edwin straight away and make your apologies. Then I’ll get your coffee.’

‘Thank you.’ He directed his gaze back to Layla, and the faintest enigmatic smile touched Drake’s lips. ‘Why don’t you come into my office?’

Following her into the stunning room, with its panoramic view of rooftops and a gloriously cloudless blue sky, he quietly shut the door behind them. ‘It’s good to see you—if a little unexpected. Let me take your coat and bag.’

As soon as Layla had unbuttoned the fawn trench-coat she sensed Drake move behind her to help remove it from her shoulders. The potent mix of warm virile man, sexy cologne and the electrifying brush of his hands through the layers of her clothing made her feel quite faint with desire. It was extremely difficult to think straight above such a shockingly imperative need.

In contrast, Drake appeared almost to want to taunt her by moving deliberately slowly, his air definitely preoccupied. But after carefully folding her coat over the arm of a nearby chair, and depositing her shoulder-bag and tote on the seat, he finally returned to stand in front of her. Dropping his hands to his lean masculine hips, he released a long drawn-out sigh. ‘Well, well, well … You certainly know how to keep me on my toes, Layla Jerome.’

Fiddling with the ends of her hair, she couldn’t prevent the heat that flooded into her face. ‘I’m sorry. I should have rung you first.’

‘Then your appearance would hardly have been a surprise, would it?’

‘No, it wouldn’t.’

‘Besides … I definitely get the impression that talking on the phone isn’t exactly a favourite occupation of yours.’

Moving nearer, Drake curled his hands round her slim upper arms and slowly but firmly brought her body in closer to his. Layla caught her breath.

‘I wanted to wring your brother’s neck when he wouldn’t go and tell you that I wanted to talk to you,’ he confessed huskily.

‘It wasn’t his fault. I told him not to disturb me.’

‘And why did you do that, I wonder? Was it because you were angry that I was going to have those houses demolished in preference to renovating them?’

‘I don’t deny I was furious about that. I know you left our forgotten little town a long time ago, but there are a lot of things that I still love about it. One of them is the rundown shabby streets with their once beautiful and historic old houses. It makes me terribly sad to think about the hardworking families who once lived in them and experienced all their joys and sorrows there but are now all gone.’

‘Do you know for a fact that they were all hardworking and happy?’ Drake asked, gravel-voiced.

There was something in his tone that made Layla’s stomach drop. ‘No, I don’t. I just—’

‘I grew up in that shabby little street, in one of those once “beautiful and historic old houses”. As I recall, it wasn’t remotely beautiful when I lived in it. Unfortunately I didn’t experience much joy there either … plenty of sorrow, yes. And my father definitely wasn’t hardworking.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t mean to rub salt into any wounds by expressing my opinions, Drake.’

‘Forget about it. Like you said, the ghosts of the past are all gone now. So, tell me, do you usually go to bed so early?’

The humour that replaced the pain in his eyes lifted her heart after the sad confession about his home-life. At least she now knew why he was so determined to demolish those houses.

‘During the week when I work I always go to bed early. I know you wanted to speak to me last night, but do you really think talking on the phone is the best way to get to know someone? I personally prefer to talk to my friends face to face … especially when it comes to discussing something personal.’

Drake’s answering short laugh made all the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.

‘So it’s my friend you want to be now, is it?’

Brushing her hair out of the way, he laid his hand over her cheek, gently stroking the pad of his thumb down over her flushed skin, eliciting an explosion of goosebumps.

‘I’ll only agree to be your friend, Layla, if I’m afforded certain … shall we say … privileges?’ he said, smiling.

As enticing as the idea to afford him those privileges was, Layla determinedly held her ground, even though his touch was seriously making her melt. ‘I think that comment sounds very much like an avoidance strategy to me.’

‘You think I’m avoiding something, do you? What am I avoiding?’ With an incorrigible grin he moved his hand to rest it lightly on her shoulder.

‘Answering the question I asked you yesterday—about—about letting me get to know you … giving me the chance to see the real man behind the successful architect.’

Once again she caught her breath as she waited for his reply. His grin faded almost immediately and his grey eyes suddenly acquired a glint of terrifying sadness that made her stomach roll over.

‘That question ensured I barely slept a wink last night,’ he told her gruffly.

‘Why?’ she whispered.

‘Before I answer that, I have a question for you … Why did you give up a presumably well-paid job in London to move back home? What happened with this boss of yours? You said he wasn’t a boyfriend, but I get the feeling something intimate happened between you. Was it an affair that perhaps turned sour?’

Drake’s hands were suddenly fastening round her arms again, and his grip noticeably tightened, making her heart thump. ‘I didn’t have an affair with him. I just—he plied me with drink at an office party and I stupidly succumbed to sleeping with him. It was only the one time, and I hated myself for it straight after.’

Feeling angry that Drake had turned the tables on her, Layla tried to twist free, but he was having none of it and held her fast.

‘My boss was like a lot of men who have wealth and power. He thought it was a golden ticket to having anything he wanted, and no doubt after my refusing his requests for a date for so long it helped boost his ego to get me drunk and finally persuade me into his bed.’ Her face was suffused with embarrassed heat. ‘I despise myself for being so weak, because he was the most unscrupulous and unprincipled man I’ve ever met.’

‘Was that the reason you quit your job?’

Sucking in a steadying breath as the memory of the shameful betrayal that had finally forced her to leave washed over her, she gazed into Drake’s eyes with an unwavering furious stare.

‘No. At least, it wasn’t the main one. In another stupidly weak moment I let him persuade me to invest all my savings in a deal that was a total scam from start to finish. When I lost every penny, he shrugged as if he couldn’t care less and said, “That’s the business we’re in, Layla. It’s all about risk. Sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. You should have known that … silly girl.” He wasn’t wrong there.’ She shook her head bitterly. ‘I was silly … Let me rephrase that. I was utterly and unforgivably stupid. My common sense deserted me. But at the time I invested in his deal I’d long grown tired of the soulless nature of my job and my boss. I was desperate to leave. I wanted to retrain as a youth worker or something along those lines instead … something that could be of use to people. But I knew if I was going to study I’d need money to support myself. That’s why I fell for my boss’s expert sales pitch. I thought that because he’d reached the heights as a broker, and made a lot of money by speculating and taking risks himself, he must know what he was doing. I never thought for one minute that he might take me to the cleaners because I only slept with him once and refused to do so again. It’s amazing what we can convince ourselves of when we’re desperate, isn’t it?’

‘I’m sorry.’

The comment sounded genuinely compassionate, and Drake’s firm grip on her arms gentled.

‘Not half as sorry as I am. I know one thing for sure. I’ll never make a decision out of desperation again.’

‘You did nothing wrong, Layla. It’s your low-life ex-boss that needs hanging out to dry.’

‘Anyway …’ She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. ‘You live and learn, as my dad always used to say. Are you going to answer my question now, Drake?’

Withdrawing his hands, he pressed his fingers deep against his temples. For the first time since he’d appeared in the outer office she noticed the softly bruised shadows beneath his eyes that denoted his previous night’s lack of sleep.

‘I’ve been giving it some serious thought.’

Not brave enough to prompt him, Layla neither moved nor spoke.

Lifting his strong cut-glass jaw, Drake gave her one of his searing, compelling glances. ‘I want you Layla. I’m sure you know that only too well by now. You’re like a fever in my blood that I can’t recover from. So I’ve decided that I will give you more access than I’ve given to any other woman before and let you get to know me a little. But I want to make it clear that that doesn’t mean there’ll be no holds barred—because it’s quite likely there will be.’ The glitter in his eyes that followed this statement was almost fierce. ‘I don’t share my feelings or my thoughts easily. Maybe that’s a habit I’ll eventually learn to break, but there’ll definitely be boundaries if we become more intimate. Think you can handle that?’

With her heart bumping heavily against her ribs, Layla found herself nodding slowly. ‘Yes, I do. At least, I’m willing to take the risk.’

CHAPTER SIX

AFTER they had their coffee Drake gave Layla the ‘grand tour’ of his offices, because he knew if they stayed alone together any longer, cloistered in his private domain, he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her. As it was he had to contend with the too interested glances of his colleagues … especially the men. But how could he blame them when her slim-hipped jeans-clad figure and beautiful face was a magnet for any male with a pulse? No matter how young or old …

From the moment he’d told her that he was willing to let her get to know him—barring one or two no-go areas that he hadn’t yet outlined—he’d begun to feel uncharacteristically possessive towards her. It was a new sensation for Drake, and one he’d never experienced before—not even with his ex Kirsty.

As they toured the offices on each floor Layla appeared genuinely fascinated by the different projects his architects and designers were undertaking—taking him and them aback by asking the kind of in-depth questions that he asked his clients himself in a bid to ascertain their construction needs. She was particularly interested in the social and environmental aspects of the various designs, and his younger male architects were only too happy to oblige her with full-length explanations, he saw. The realisation made him proud that he’d hired such good people, but it also made him intensely jealous that they were practically falling over themselves to interact with Layla.

When she stood beside them to examine an architectural model more closely, or leant over their shoulders to view a design or a technical drawing on a computer, did their hearts pound because she was so near as his always did?

He couldn’t wait to have her to himself again, and after a couple of hours of this self-inflicted torture Drake was more than ready for them to return to his off ice.

By the time they reached the executive floor he noted that it was nearing six in the evening and one or two people were packing up for the day, ready to go home. Monica looked decidedly disgruntled as he and Layla arrived back in the outer office, giving him the instant vibe that she wasn’t too impressed with his impromptu tour.

‘I’ve rescheduled Sir Edwin Dodd for Monday afternoon at two, but the other appointments you so unfortunately missed all ask if you could call them personally to establish when you’ll definitely be available. Other than that … All Quiet on the Western Front, as they say—and unless there’s anything urgent I’m going home.’

‘Thank you, Monica,’ he replied, smiling. ‘I appreciate your hard work today. I know it can’t have been easy cancelling my appointments at the last minute. Are those the phone numbers of the clients that I missed?’ He gestured towards the piece of paper she was holding out to him.

‘Yes.’ She perfunctorily handed it over, then impatiently hovered as he scanned down the printed list.

‘That’s fine. Thanks again,’ he murmured.

‘I’ll say goodnight, then.’

Without further ado she slipped on her raincoat, arranged the strap of her bag securely over her shoulder, then exited the office without so much as a backward glance at either him or Layla.

Striding back into his private office, Drake dropped the paper onto his desk and then called out to his guest to come and join him.

‘I get the feeling that your secretary’s going to view me as enemy number one should I ever dare visit you here again … especially without an appointment.’ Stepping into the room and then quietly closing the door behind her, Layla shaped her mouth into a lopsided and rueful smile.

‘She runs a tight ship.’ Drake grinned. ‘She doesn’t like it when her captain goes AWOL.’

‘I can’t say I blame her. You probably missed several important appointments today.’

‘Do you really think I care about that right now?’

Planting himself directly in front of her, Drake could no longer resist the impulse to be closer. Watching her talking and smiling with his colleagues had been excruciating torment because he hadn’t been free to touch and hold her as he yearned to do. He hadn’t even dared catch her eye in case he revealed his longing in front of the people he was ultra-careful to keep his private life a firmly closed book to. At any rate, he fully intended to make up for that self-denial now.

He started by cupping Layla’s small, delicately made jaw, and straight away saw her eyes darken and grow even more lustrous beneath the long ebony lashes that swept down over them. His pulse quickened. The sensual silken texture of her skin beneath his fingers made him long to explore all of her without restraint, to drown in her beauty and get drunk on it without the fear of consequences to either his heart or his conscience.

‘You mesmerised them out there,’ he told her. ‘You’re going to be the talk of the place for weeks to come.’

‘I hardly think so.’

‘Then you clearly don’t know a lot about the male of the species.’

‘That’s probably true.’

Her dark eyes were troubled for a moment, and Drake could have kicked himself for reminding her of her dishonest ex-boss.

‘Returning to the present, I hope you haven’t made any plans for the weekend?’ he commented, lowering his voice, holding her gaze with invisible ties that hungrily bound it to his.

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because I’d like you to spend it with me.’

‘All of it?’

The wonderment in her voice made Drake chuckle. ‘Yes, all of it. And I’ll make sure you get home early enough on Sunday that you can get to bed at your usual time.’

‘So you’re expecting me to stay the night with you? I mean … not just one night but two?’

‘Think you could bear it?’ He hated the doubt that suddenly surfaced in his mind. He wished he could shoot it dead. ‘My house has several guest rooms. If you’d rather we didn’t share a room until you get to know me better, then I want you to know I’ll respect that.’

‘Thanks.’

The gratefully innocent smile she gave him told Drake that he’d said the right thing. He was immensely relieved. He didn’t want any more of their days or their evenings together to end in quarrels or disappointment. He’d rather suffer the torment of frustration than that.

‘Do I get a kiss for being so thoughtful and considerate?’ he teased, smiling.

In answer, Layla reached up on tiptoe and pressed her lips softly against his. Even though his first impulse was to ravish and plunder now that she’d agreed to his request, he summoned some stoic restraint from God only knew where and deliberately kept the kiss on the right side of slow and tender. But even so his hands moved up and down her back, and now and then ventured over the enticing curve of her delectable derrière.

‘Time’s getting on,’ she murmured. ‘Shouldn’t we go and get something to eat?’

Reluctantly freeing her lips from the sensuous, erotic glide of Drake’s gentle and surprisingly tender response to her kiss, Layla found herself staring up at him, noting the tiny bead of sweat glistening in the indentation above his carved top lip and the beginnings of five o’clock shadow already darkening his firm lower jaw. But most of all she registered the carnal hunger his mercurial grey eyes radiated back at her, and wondered how he’d managed to keep it at bay and kiss her with such tender restraint. If the tenor of that lovely kiss had been transformed at any point into a conflagration such as they’d ignited at the building site yesterday, she didn’t doubt that her suggestion of getting something to eat wouldn’t have been the very first suggestion she made …

Although genuinely relieved when Drake had stipulated he didn’t expect them to share a room and that she might like to get to know him a bit better before they became more intimate, she was still breathless at his invitation to stay the night. Not just one night, but two. Funny how things worked out, she mused. When she’d been readying herself to travel up to London to pay him a spontaneous visit she’d somehow found herself packing a toothbrush and a spare pair of undies into her tote … just in case. She hadn’t been behaving presumptuously, she told herself, just being sensibly prepared for an eventuality such as this. It was surely the practical thing to do when all Layla had to do was glance at the man for her to crave the most lascivious attentions imaginable.

Already it seemed that her vow to be cautious and utilise her common sense around him was seriously coming under fire.

‘That sounds like a good idea. How about we go back to my place and I’ll cook us something?’

‘You can cook?’

His eyes flashed with humour. ‘Don’t get your hopes up. I’m a million light years away from Cordon Bleu, but I can do basic stuff like a stir fry and spaghetti bolognaise. And if you’ve got a sweet tooth I have some artisan vanilla ice cream in the fridge.’

‘Then lead the way, Chef. My palate is all yours!’

Giving him a teasing grin, Layla moved across to the chair where Drake had left her black leather tote. But before she lifted it, Drake stepped up behind her and reached for her coat.

‘Let me help you put this on.’

‘Thanks.’ She breathed in the heat from his body, along with his arresting cologne, and briefly shut her eyes tight to savour the moment.

‘Let’s go.’ Catching her by her shoulders to spin her round, he dropped a light kiss onto her forehead and smiled.

It was dusk by the time Drake’s chauffeur Jimmy pulled up outside the house. Stepping out onto the pavement, Layla registered that the air was surprisingly warm as opposed to the wintry feel of yesterday, when she’d visited the building site with Drake. Her heart leapt with pleasure, because it seemed like a good omen, but her attention was quickly diverted from the balmy temperature to the arresting sight of the impressive Georgian house that loomed up before her.

It was positioned at the end of a precisely mown lawn, with an ornate stone fountain at its centre. The building itself was a perfectly proportioned five-storeyed, elegant townhouse, with large picture windows and a subtly painted green front door that had a carved sunburst pediment above it. The Regency terrace where it was situated was surely one of the best addresses in London, she mused.

Sensing Drake come to stand silently beside her, Layla made sure her tone was perfectly innocuous when she said, ‘So this is where you live? It’s beautiful.’

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