The Irresistible Tycoon

“You’re my boss. I’m your secretary.”

There was triumph in Lucas’s silver eyes as he replied, “You want me, Kim. Your lips and body told me that this morning.”

“Lucas.” Kim glanced around nervously.

“And sooner or later it will happen,” he continued silkily. “You know that as well as I do. That’s why you’ve been so jumpy from the first day you came to work for me….”

HELEN BROOKS lives in Northamptonshire, England, and is married with three children. As she is a committed Christian, busy housewife and mother, her spare time is at a premium, but her hobbies include reading, swimming, gardening and walking her two energetic, inquisitive and very endearing young dogs. Her long-cherished aspiration to write became a reality when she put pen to paper on reaching the age of forty, and sent the result off to Harlequin Mills & Boon.

The Irresistible Tycoon

Helen Brooks

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ONE

‘KIM, I’m not at all sure that this is the right step to take, I’m really not. You’ve enough on your plate as it is; you know that.’

‘I’ve no choice, Maggie, and you know that,’ Kim answered steadily.

‘But…’ Maggie Conway stared helplessly at her friend as she ran out of words.

‘Look, just be an angel and pick up Melody after school, okay? I shouldn’t be much later than five but you know how interviews are; they might keep me waiting for a while.’

‘No problem,’ Maggie said unhappily.

‘Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ Kim said with heartfelt warmth as she gave Maggie a brief hug.

Kim was still thinking about her last words as she left the comfort of Maggie’s spacious, open-plan apartment and stepped into the crisp frosty air outside the big Victorian house which had been converted into several self-contained flats.

Maggie was an unlikely-looking angel, being as round as she was tall with a shock of vibrant curly ginger hair and freckles covering every inch of her skin, but an angel she was nevertheless, Kim told herself silently as she walked briskly to the bus stop. How she would have got through the last two traumatic years without Maggie’s unfailing support and good humour she didn’t know.

She reached the bus stop just as the bus drew round the corner and, once seated, stared unseeingly out of the window, quite oblivious to the overt stare of the young, good-looking man sitting opposite her who clearly couldn’t take his eyes off the golden-haired beauty on the other side of the aisle.

Maggie had stepped in as unpaid childminder when the need arose—as it did frequently—confidante, stalwart friend, advisor and a whole host of other roles, Kim reflected warmly. The only good thing to come out of her relationship with Graham—apart from Melody, of course—was that he had introduced her to Maggie.

Graham… Kim’s soft full mouth tightened and her brown eyes narrowed for a moment before she forced her thoughts away from the spectre in her mind.

This wasn’t the time to think of Graham, not with such an important interview looming, she told herself firmly, straightening in the seat and squaring her slender shoulders. She understood the competition for the post of secretary to the chairman and managing director of Kane Electrical was fierce, and she needed to be focused and clear from the outset.

It was another fifteen minutes before the bus dropped her on the outskirts of Cambridge and almost outside the huge site which Kane Electrical occupied, and within five minutes she was standing in Reception explaining to the model-slim, beautifully coiffured receptionist that she had an appointment with Mr Lucas Kane at half-past two.

‘Right.’ The girl’s expertly made-up eyes had made a swift summing up of the tall, discreetly dressed woman in front of her, and now she gave a practised smile as she said blandly, ‘If you would like to take a seat for a moment I’ll tell Mr Kane’s secretary you’re here, Mrs Allen.’

‘Thank you.’ Kim had flushed slightly under the scrutiny. Her winter coat was a good one, but not new, neither were her shoes and handbag, whereas the receptionist’s expertly cut grey silk suit screamed a designer label and her hair could only have been cut by one of the most expensive salons in Cambridge.

Still, she wasn’t going to let this girl or anyone else intimidate her, Kim told herself fiercely as she took the proffered seat and sank into inches of soft leather upholstery. She might not be wearing the very latest fashion or have her hair styled by Vidal Sassoon but she was an excellent secretary, as her references confirmed.

She raised her small chin abruptly and stared straight ahead, her hands resting in her lap and her knees demurely together, before a restrained commotion at the side of her—as a tall, dark man with what could only be described as an entourage swept into the building—brought her head swinging round.

Whether it was the receptionist’s less than tactful appraisal, or the fact that everyone on the perimeter of the man seemed to be falling over themselves to get his attention, Kim didn’t know, but she found herself staring at the back of the personage in question with unmitigated dislike.

He certainly knew how to make an entrance, she thought waspishly, and he was so full of his own importance he was almost bursting with it! How she disliked the fawning and obsequious servility that went with wealth and power in some quarters.

The party was making for the lifts at the far side of the reception in a subdued furore of which the man leading seemed totally unaware, and Kim still had her eyes fixed on his back, her face expressing her feelings only too clearly, when he suddenly turned and to her shock and surprise looked straight at her.

She was conscious of a pair of rivetingly hard, metallic silver-grey eyes taking in the whole of her in a stunningly swift perusal that was quite devastating before she could wipe her face of all expression, and then she saw dark eyebrows rise in mordant disdain. The message was unmistakable.

He had recognised what she was thinking, recognised it and dismissed it—and her—as beneath his contempt, she thought as her face turned scarlet. And she couldn’t blame him, she really couldn’t. If nothing else she had been unforgivably rude.

In the split second before the lift doors opened and the man turned to enter Kim’s mind raced, but there was no time to do anything but watch him disappear. The doors closed, there was the faintest of purrs as the lift ascended, and that was that.

She was aware of sinking back in the seat and it was only then she became conscious she had been holding herself rigid. How embarrassing! She shut her eyes for the briefest of moments and swallowed hard, glancing across at the receptionist, who was speaking to someone on the telephone. What must he have thought? But then he’d left her in no doubt what he had thought, she added with a touch of dark humour.

She was looking at the receptionist without seeing her now, her mind continuing to dissect every moment of the little drama which had unfurled so unexpectedly. Who was he? Obviously someone important: one of the directors of the firm maybe?

An awful thought occurred to her but she pushed it away immediately. No, it wouldn’t be him—not Lucas Kane, she told herself firmly. That would be too disastrous, and if nothing else she was due some good fortune—well overdue, as it happened.

‘Mrs Allen?’

Kim came out of her rueful musing with a little jolt to find a tall, rather formidable-looking woman standing in front of her.

‘Good afternoon.’ A hand was extended and as Kim rose she made a suitable reply, shaking the other woman’s hand. ‘I’m June West,’ the woman continued, ‘Mr Kane’s secretary. If you would like to come with me…’

‘Thank you.’ As they walked towards the waiting lift Kim glanced at the other woman from under her eyelashes. June West was the person the successful applicant would have to follow, and if Lucas Kane’s present secretary was anything like as efficient as she looked they would have their work cut out. It didn’t help Kim’s confidence an iota.

‘Mr Kane is running a little late.’ As the lift doors closed, June turned to her with a polite smile. ‘We’ve had one panic after another this morning.’

Kim nodded, smiling in turn before she said, ‘Is that usual? The panics, I mean?’

‘I’m afraid so.’ June was looking hard at her. ‘As his secretary you would have to be used to working under pressure most of the time and making decisions for yourself. Would that be a problem?’

Being under pressure and making decisions for herself? That had been her life for the last two years—and before—Kim reflected silently. ‘No. No, it wouldn’t.’

‘Good.’ The smile was warmer now. ‘I’ve worked for Mr Kane for the last ten years and I can honestly say there’s never been a dull moment. It hasn’t always been easy, and the job is certainly not your average nine-to-five, but he’s a very fair employer and prepared to give and take, if you know what I mean.’

Kim didn’t, not really, but she nodded and said, ‘Can I ask why you are leaving?’

‘Of course. Sensible question.’ The lift doors had opened and now Kim followed the tall figure into a hushed corridor as June said over her shoulder, ‘I’m getting married and my future husband lives and works in Scotland. He’s got his own business; I met him through Kane Electrical, actually, as he’s one of our suppliers, so it’s not feasible for him to make the move.’

‘Congratulations,’ Kim said with genuine cordiality.

‘Thanks.’ As June opened a door and waved Kim through, she added quietly, ‘I’d given up on meeting the man of my dreams, to be honest, but whoever said life begins at forty was dead right as far as I was concerned.’

So June was forty, and she had obviously been a career woman dedicated to her job and Kane Electrical for the last decade—she had been right about the other woman being a hard act to follow if nothing else, Kim thought ruefully.

‘This is my office.’

They were standing in a large, beautifully decorated room with ankle-deep carpet and the very latest in office furniture and equipment, Kim noted.

‘And through there—’ June inclined her head to a door behind her desk ‘—is my private cloakroom. Mr Kane has his own leading off his office along with a dressing room and small sitting room. He sometimes sleeps over when things are particularly hectic,’ she added quietly.

‘Right.’ This was way, way out of her league. Kim kept her face expressionless but her thoughts were racing. The best she could hope for was to get through the next twenty minutes—or however long the interview with Lucas Kane lasted—without making a complete fool of herself. He was clearly looking for a personal assistant-cum-secretary who would eat, breathe and sleep Kane Electrical, and she just couldn’t give that degree of commitment with Melody to consider.

But she had stated quite clearly she had a four-year-old daughter on her CV, she reminded herself in the next instant, divesting herself of her coat before taking the seat June indicated and watching the other woman disappear through the interconnecting door in to her boss’s domain. She wouldn’t have got this far if he objected to his secretary having a life outside of work, would she?

She glanced round the opulent room again and her stomach swirled. She was amazed she had got this far if she was being honest, she admitted silently. It had been the thought of the huge salary such a post would command—nothing more and nothing less—which had prompted her to send off her CV when she had seen the position advertised at the end of September, just over four weeks ago now.

She hadn’t heard anything at all for three weeks and then she had received a letter, written on embossed, thick linen notepaper, stating she had been selected for the initial short list to attend an interview on Monday, 30th October, at 2.30 p.m.

Which was today, now, this very minute! Oh, help.

‘Mrs Allen?’ June had opened the interconnecting door again and was smiling at her. ‘Mr Kane will see you now.’

She knew, just a moment before she walked through the door, who would be seated within the room beyond. It was in that split second Kim acknowledged she had had a presentiment the moment she had stared into the cold silver eyes in the lobby below. He had looked like a millionaire tycoon; it had been in his walk, his bearing, the turn of his head, even the way his eyes had held hers in such arrogant contempt and disregard.

‘Mrs Allen…’ A tall, broad-shouldered figure rose from behind a massive grey desk at her approach, but the clear autumn sunlight streaming in through the huge plate-glass window behind him blinded Kim for a moment and turned Lucas Kane into a dark silhouette. And then, as she reached the chair which had been placed in front of the desk, she blinked, and he came into focus. Alarmingly into focus. All six feet four, and then some, of him!

‘How do you do?’ He was smiling as he enclosed her small paw in his long fingers, but it was definitely a crocodile sort of smile, Kim noted helplessly. He had obviously realised who she was earlier and had been looking forward to this moment with some relish. ‘Please be seated, Mrs Allen.’

She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of stuttering and stammering, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to speak clearly until she had had a moment or two to pull herself together, so she smiled in what she hoped was a cool, contained sort of way and sank gracefully into the chair. If nothing else it eased her trembling legs!

There hadn’t been time to look beyond the granite stare which had pinned her down in Reception, but now, to add to the agitation and shock that had her heart thumping like a sledgehammer, she could see Lucas Kane was disturbingly attractive. Not handsome, the rugged chiselled face and impressive muscled body was too aggressively male and ruthlessly compelling to ever be labelled such, but he had something that went far beyond good looks.

‘You understand you are one of four applicants on a final short list?’ he asked expressionlessly without looking at her, his eyes on the papers on his desk as his hand flicked over a page of what she assumed was her CV.

His hair was very black, almost a blue-black, she noted silently, and cut so short as to be harshly severe. And then he raised his head, and the curiously silver eyes shaded by thick black lashes compelled a response.

‘Yes, I do, Mr Kane,’ she managed evenly.

‘So what makes you think I should choose you over the other excellent candidates?’ he drawled smoothly, but with an edge that told her the incident in Reception was not forgotten or forgiven.

She had had the answer to just such a question drilled into her during the business management degree she had taken at university, and had even encountered it first-hand when she had applied for her last job, just over two years ago, but now, in the face of Lucas Kane’s cruelly mocking scrutiny, something hot and contumacious rose up in Kim’s chest.

‘That’s for you to weigh in the balance and consider, surely, Mr Kane,’ she answered coolly.

The silver eyes iced over a fraction more; her tone of voice clearly hadn’t been to his liking. ‘Is it, indeed?’ It was soft and low but with an underlying sharpness that suggested velvet disguising pure steel.

He had expected a stock answer—she had read that in the brief dart of surprise the silver-grey eyes had been unable to conceal—but she wasn’t playing any sort of game with this man. If he wanted to conduct a straightforward interview that was one thing, but she wasn’t going to be intimidated by Lucas Kane or anyone else.

He stared at her for another moment or two and she forced herself not to drop her gaze, and then he flicked the intercom on his desk.

‘Yes, Mr Kane?’ June’s voice sounded so wonderfully normal it made Kim want to get up and fly into the outer office.

‘Coffee, June, for Mrs Allen and myself.’

Kim had been half expecting him to tell his secretary that the interview was finished, or ask June to show her out—anything, in fact, but request coffee for them both. She found she badly wanted to smooth her hair but restrained the impulse to fiddle with the thick shining braid coiled tightly on top of her head, knowing the intuitive, razor-sharp mind on the other side of the desk would recognise the nervousness behind such a gesture.

‘Or perhaps you would prefer tea?’ The brilliant gaze had fastened on her again after the brief respite.

‘Coffee will be fine, thank you,’ she answered carefully, keeping her voice in neutral.

‘So, Mrs Allen…’

His voice was very distinctive, she thought shakily as she watched him settle himself comfortably in the vast leather chair and lean back slightly, crossing one long leg over the other knee as he surveyed her unblinkingly. Deep and ever so slightly husky, with the merest trace of an accent she couldn’t quite place.

‘Are you a career woman?’ he asked softly.

There was only one answer she could possibly give to such a leading question, given the circumstances; a reply in the affirmative was what he was expecting and what she must make—the knowledge was screamingly obvious. ‘My work is very important to me, Mr Kane, yes,’ Kim said quickly. But not necessarily for the reasons he supposed, she added silently.

‘And I see you got a First at university. That must mean you worked hard but had a natural aptitude for the subject too?’ he commented thoughtfully.

She couldn’t read anything from either his tone or his face but somehow she felt a punchline was on the way, and she couldn’t quite keep the wariness out of her voice when she said, ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

She saw the firm hard mouth twitch slightly, as though he was enjoying some private joke of his own, but his voice was still very even—almost expressionless—as he continued, ‘So why did you get married immediately on graduating from university, and moreover start a family within months, if you intended to make the most of your excellent qualifications and carve a career for yourself? It doesn’t quite seem to add up, Mrs Allen.’

Flipping cheek! She thought about making some facetious reply and passing off what she considered an extremely intrusive question, but he had hit her on the raw—possibly because she had had cause to bitterly regret the marriage almost immediately—so her voice was cold when she replied, ‘Whether it adds up or not, that is what happened, Mr Kane, and it is my business, no one else’s.’ Okay, so she’d blown it good and proper, she thought sickly, but she didn’t want his rotten job anyway!

She expected a cutting retort, something stinging to put her in her place, but even as she had started speaking he had straightened in his seat and was bending over the papers again, his voice businesslike as he said, ‘Did you meet your husband at university?’

‘Yes.’ It was succinct in the extreme but he didn’t look up.

‘And I see you were widowed barely three years later. That must have been hard for you.’

There was nothing she could say to that and so she kept quiet, but he obviously didn’t expect a comment as he continued immediately, ‘That would have meant your daughter was two years of age when you became a single-parent family?’

‘Yes.’

‘Tough break.’

There was a smokier quality to his voice as he spoke, a trace of warmth evident in the deep husky tones for the first time, and it unnerved her. Kim didn’t know why it bothered her but it did, and she suddenly found she was acutely aware of the formidable breadth of his shoulders and the muscled strength evident beneath the superficial veneer of expensive cloth.

It took all coherent thought clean away, and in the pause which followed Lucas Kane raised his dark head, his piercing eyes narrowing on her troubled face. ‘You find it painful to talk about this, Mrs Allen?’ he asked quietly.

Kim nodded—it seemed the safest option—but she was heartily thankful he had misunderstood the reason for her evident agitation.

‘I think you can appreciate I have to ask whether you have suitable arrangements in place should the need arise for you to work late or even be away from home for a few days?’ he continued expressionlessly after another brief pause. ‘Such occurrences are not unusual in this office.’

‘Yes, I do.’ This was more solid ground and Kim’s large chocolate-brown eyes expressed the sentiment to the perceptive metallic gaze watching her so closely, although she was unaware of it.

‘Melody was in full-time nursery care for two years before she started school in September and she loved it,’ Kim said quickly, ‘and she’s just sailed into school. The school provides an after-hours club for children with working parents which finishes at five-thirty, but if ever I’m unavailable to pick her up a good friend who lives close by and works from home steps in. If I had to go on a business trip, Maggie would love to have her for however long it took.’

‘How fortuitous.’

It was even and spoken without any expression but somehow Kim felt an implied criticism in the smooth tone. Her eyes narrowed and she stared hard into the tough masculine face in front of her, but other than ask him outright if he had a problem with the way she organised her affairs she could do nothing but say, coolly, ‘Yes, it is. I’m very fortunate to have a friend like Maggie.’

‘You don’t have family living near?’

‘No. My…my husband was an only child and his parents had him late in life. They’re now in their sixties and his father is in poor health so they rarely travel from Scotland, where they live.’

‘And your family?’ he persisted relentlessly.

What this had to do with her aptitude to do the job, she didn’t know! ‘I have no family,’ she said shortly.

‘None?’

He sounded faintly incredulous and she supposed she couldn’t blame him. ‘I was orphaned as a young child,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘I lived with an elderly aunt for a time but when she died and left her estate to her own family I was put in a children’s home.’

The silver-grey eyes flickered briefly.

‘So,’ Kim continued quietly, ‘I suppose I might have some distant relatives somewhere but I wouldn’t go so far as to call them family, and I certainly have no wish to trace any of them. I’ve made my own life and that’s the way I like it.’

He leant back in the chair again, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘I see.’

Exactly what he saw Kim wasn’t sure, but she felt she had as much chance of being offered this job as a snowball in hell.

‘Since your husband died you have worked for Mr Curtis of Curtis & Brackley, is that right? And the firm went into liquidation four weeks ago.’ He was reading from her CV again and the relief of having that laser-sharp gaze off her face was overwhelming.

‘Which is when I saw this job advertised,’ Kim agreed.

‘Mr Curtis seems to have thought a great deal of you. He has written what I can only describe as a glowing reference.’

And she had earned it. Hours of overtime a week; calls in to the office to deal with minor panics at weekends; interrupted holidays—Bob Curtis had had no compunction in wringing every last working minute he could out of her. But the salary had been good and Curtis & Brackley had been practically on her doorstep and just down the street from Melody’s nursery. But it had been the memory of trailing from interview to interview, in the span between Graham’s death and securing a job, that had induced her to put up with almost anything.