The PA's Revenge (Book 1, The Mackenzie Brothers) Page 2

  “We’ll leave it there for now. Good start. Do some more work on it tomorrow. In the meantime, if you’re free, I’d like you to join me at a cocktail party to welcome the Australian ambassador. I want you to meet a few people, get to know some of my business colleagues who’ll be there.”

  “Tonight? Yes, that’s fine. But I don’t have anything to wear. I’ve left my suitcase at the InterContinental Hotel.”

  She could feel Dallas’s eyes trail slowly over her body.

  “You’re fine. You can freshen up upstairs in my apartment if you wish and then we’ll leave. I’ll have Todd pick up your case later.”

  “What time do we have to be there?”

  “When we get there.”

  Why was she not surprised by his answer?

  “So I’m your new PA?”

  He nodded. “A week’s trial and then we’ll see.”

  He stood up and they shook hands.

  “That’s it? No contract, no confidentiality clauses?”

  He punched the button of a private lift.

  “You can sort that out for me tomorrow. In the meantime I suggest you get ready. You don’t want to be late. Just one more thing. You lied to get the job. OK, you got my attention. But don’t ever lie to me again, or else you’ll be out.”

  She nodded stiffly. “Of course.” Another lie.

  The elevator doors swept open and stood waiting for her.

  She hesitated, for just one brief moment, knowing she was walking into danger. She’d have to be alert. Because she knew exactly where that danger lay: in this man, charismatic, arrogant, and sexy as hell.

  The man responsible for the death of her father and her son.

  Then she smiled up at him and entered the lift, dimly aware of the echo of her heels stabbing the marble floor with their metallic tips. The elevator doors closed with a whisper, ending the months of waiting, the months of pain.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Dallas heard the guest bedroom door open and close quietly behind him. He dropped Cassandra’s report on to the desk, flicked out the light and turned to look out the window.

  “Come here.”

  He could smell her light, fresh perfume before she arrived beside him.

  “Look down there. What do you see?”

  “The Mackenzie Building. Winner of the Architectural Futures Award, built in record time, earner of the highest rents in the capital. Your building.”

  He smiled wryly. “That just about covers it.”

  “You must feel proud of a job well done.”

  He should, but he didn’t. He couldn’t feel anything. That was the problem. Money had been his exclusive focus for so many years that little else registered. And now the project was finished—the completion of years of work, years of dreaming—and he felt, nothing. But then he’d gone out of his way to stay aloof from feelings for more years than he cared to remember.

  “Indeed.”

  “And your next project?”

  “Ah, that’s where you come in.”

  He turned to his new PA, the irresistible Cassandra, and took in the immaculate make-up, the seductive camisole that barely covered her cleavage. Possibly just the diversion he needed to fill the void of emptiness and despair that threatened to engulf him.

  The diversionary tactics seemed to be working already. He’d just spent a pleasurable ten minutes listening to the hum of the shower and giving his imagination full rein. The image of a naked, dripping Cassandra, soaping her body ran a close second to the fully clothed woman beside him.

  “Where exactly do I come in?”

  He could tell by the light flush that gathered on her pale cheeks that she didn’t know which way to take this. But then, nor did he.

  “Your first task will be to assess the proposals that have been piling up. I haven’t had the time, or the inclination, and unfortunately I’ve had a little trouble with PAs.”

  “I guess it might be best if I know what the problem is with your PAs. I might stand a chance of avoiding it.”

  “Sure. It’s simple. Don’t think I’m ever going to marry you, Cassandra, because you haven’t a hope in hell.”

  For a second, he regretted his words, could tell that she was angry and hurt at his presumption. But what the hell? It was the truth and if she couldn’t take the truth, then she could leave.

  “Well, lucky for you that I have no wish to marry you then, isn’t it? Shall we go?”

  “Sure.” He could see the effect of his words on her. No doubt she thought him a cold and arrogant bastard which was all to the good because he was. Any softening he’d sensed in her before had now vanished.

  He enjoyed the sight of Cassandra walking towards the door, her tightly skirted behind arousing his libido in ways he’d almost forgotten. There was no doubt about it. He needed something to divert him from the fact he was alone and always would be. He could never trust himself to marry, to become a man like his father. Cassandra could be just the thing.

  She stopped at the elevator and turned to look up at him.

  He had been admiring her rear view and made no sudden attempt to change the direction of his gaze. Lazily he looked up into her eyes, reached one arm towards and past her, and pressed the elevator button. The door clicked open.

  “After you.”

  Spring in Wellington was usually a brisk affair but tonight the wind had dropped and the air was mild. Cassandra could even smell the spring flowers that were planted in drifts around the spreading pohutukawa tree. An unusual choice for Mackenzie Square. But Dallas Mackenzie was an unusual man.

  Mackenzie Square. The man had to put his stamp on everything.

  A powerful man. The sort of man no-one in their right mind would cross. So what the hell was she doing? She was playing with fire and she could feel the heat smoldering within, simply in response to his fluid movements beside her, simply at the sense of the containment of his power, his sexuality.

  She shot him a quick look and wished she hadn’t. He’d stepped in front of her to press the intercom to speak to the porter at the embassy gates and she couldn’t help noticing the way his dark hair curled lightly into the nape of his neck, resting on the crisp white shirt collar. It was the kind of hair that you wanted to run your fingers through: coiling a curl round a finger and dragging down its silky length before releasing it once more.

  She licked her lips and swallowed, hoping she’d find her voice and her self control before he looked around.

  The small gate buzzed and swung open. He stepped to one side to allow her to pass.

  “Thanks.” Her voice was huskier than normal. She chanced a brief look that met narrowed eyes. He didn’t miss a trick.

  What was it with women and talking? Some of them never stopped.

  Dallas glanced down at the constantly moving mouth of the ambassador’s wife and wondered briefly why on earth she should think he would be interested in her past work experiences. Something to do with opera or England. Who knew? Who could follow? Who would want to?

  But the continuous drone didn’t seem to require any response on his part so he let her words flow over him, unimpeded, just as the sight of Cassandra shimmering under the soft lights, flowed through his veins.

  For the first time in weeks, he felt interested in something. Unfortunately, it wasn’t business. His mind was on pleasure: pleasure with Cassandra. And who wouldn’t be attracted to her? But it wasn’t just looks. There was something odd, something misplaced and mysterious that intrigued him.

  But, as much as he wanted a diversion, his first need was a good PA and this woman had brains. He also needed to see if she had intuition. He’d find that out tonight.

  Business or pleasure, which would it be? He knew there was no real choice. His business must always flourish. He owed it to his mother and brothers. He’d sworn to make up for his father’s excesses, rebuild his family fortunes, and he’d never renege on that promise.

  A lull in the overall buzz in conversation made him vaguely aware that hi
s hostess had moved on from opera to children. Of even less interest to him, if that were possible.

  Good. Cassandra was talking to an old friend of his. It would be interesting to watch her deal with him.

  “So Cassandra, you’re Dallas’s new PA. What’s your background?”

  “Project management mainly. Plus some research in information systems.” No lies exactly but Cassandra knew more would be read into it than actually existed.

  “Lucky old Dallas.” She didn’t believe his comment was a reflection on her work experience from the way his eyes kept descending to her breasts.

  “And you are…?”

  He smiled and she saw he’d been an attractive man once. “John Stewart, old friend of Dallas’s.”

  “Ah,” she nodded, recognizing the name of the man behind the investment proposal she’d investigated earlier.

  “Yep, we’ve got ourselves into a few scrapes in the past. Had ourselves a lot of fun.” He knocked back his whiskey and scanned the room. “Times change though.” His edgy look wasn’t lost on her. There was a feeling of desperation about him and, from the tense expression on his face as he looked over at Dallas once more, she could see that he was looking to him for his financial salvation.

  She joined John’s gaze to find Dallas’s eyes were trained on her, despite the fact the ambassador’s wife was talking to him, oblivious to Dallas’s evident lack of interest.

  It was as if a match had been struck within her, instantly sending flames of fire through her body, licking the nerve endings on her skin and keeping the incendiary embers glowing, white-hot, deep inside. She moved her glass, clinking with ice cubes, under her face, relishing the cool air that wafted up to her heated cheeks.

  She couldn’t turn away. Shocked by the instinctive, primitive response of her body to his gaze, she desperately wanted to break the connection, to shift gears, to allow her mind to regain control. But she couldn’t. His eyes, warming by the second, held her in thrall. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, she knew she should hate him, knew she was here for a purpose and this wasn’t it. But at that moment her body wanted him—pure and simple—and refused to be guided. His mouth curved slowly into a smile, and his eyes lit with a gleam as he registered her response.

  It wasn’t until Cassandra felt a damp hand slide around her waist, that she was jerked back into the moment. She turned to see John’s face too close, and forced herself to smile, forced herself back into the now. “It was nice meeting you, John.” She twisted round, plucked a glass from a passing tray, and slipped away.

  Dallas watched as Cassandra casually and effectively rejected his old friend’s unwanted attentions. He smiled. It was coolly, if not a bit abruptly, done.

  He placed his empty glass on the table decisively. If she’s good, then it’s business and he had to stay clear. If not, then anything went, so long as she knew it was only temporary. And so long as he also remembered that too. He had a nasty feeling if he started up some sort of liaison with Cassandra, it wouldn’t be so easy to stop.

  But he wouldn’t rush his decision. He’d enjoy toying with the idea, for tonight at least. He’d take her to dinner, find out a bit more about her.

  “And so here I am. About to re-launch my career.”

  He looked up surprised and then remembered that his hostess had been talking to him and had now paused. It seemed a suitable response was required.

  “Your career? And what is that?”

  It was his hostess’s turn to look puzzled.

  “Opera singing. I’ve just been telling you about it.”

  “Oh.” The pause lengthened. “Good.”

  He smiled, hoping this would provide whatever acknowledgement his hostess required and moved on to join Cassandra, unperturbed by the exasperated snort from behind him.

  “Cassandra!” Dallas wanted to reach out and press his fingers into the curve of her lower back, to let his thumb gently push up under her jacket and feel the silky camisole beneath. He kept his hands firmly in his pockets. “Dinner?”

  “Sounds good. Where?”

  The loud hum of chatter made it necessary for him to lean down to catch her response and breathe in her perfume. The sultry, yet fresh smell conjured up visions of intimate tumbling in poppy-strewn corn fields under a hot sun. He lost his train of thought.

  “Where, what?”

  “Are we going?” She looked up at him sharply, as if she could read his mind. He was going to have to watch himself.

  He drew back a little. “A restaurant nearby. I’m hungry and I’ve had enough small talk.”

  “Fine.” She curved her lips to form a slightly crooked smile. “I’ll try not to make my talk too small then.”

  He grinned and indicated the way out. “So long as you don’t talk about your family history or babies, you’ll be OK.”

  He wondered why the smile suddenly vanished from those beautiful lips and she turned away, but mentally shrugged. Who knew what went on in a woman’s mind?

  As they threaded their way to the door, John suddenly appeared before them, swaying, his eyes unfocused and reddened.

  “So, Dallas, tell me what you think of my proposal.”

  “Cassandra has looked into it for me.”

  John turned suddenly interested eyes to Cassandra.

  “Good business deal. You won’t find better.”

  “It’s not just about the bottom line though, John, is it?”

  Dallas was sure that the coolness he detected in her voice had as much to do with John’s unfocused gaze on her breasts as it did with the business deal.

  “The deal needs to stack up on every level,” Cassandra continued. “Dallas won’t want to be involved in anything that could compromise his reputation.’

  “What do you mean?”

  She smiled lightly. He could see it was a smile designed to hide her true thoughts. “There’s more research to be done.”

  God, she was good. Dallas could tell her previous research had been tempered by her face to face meeting with John. She obviously wasn’t impressed.

  He suddenly felt irritated and looked away from her. She was too good to lose. He’d been looking for a good PA for years. He couldn’t do anything to jeopardize this. But that was tomorrow. He’d enjoy tonight first.

  “Dallas?” John’s voice had been edgy before but now held an aggressive undertone that triggered memories Dallas preferred to forget. “Come on! You’re not going to leave our business negotiations to this, girl, who knows nothing. You’re not going to let her advise you on your business? Christ! Why don’t we let her go and powder her nose and we can get down to business?”

  “Cassandra’s part of the business now. Leave it until tomorrow. We’ll discuss it when you’re sober.”

  “And you’d know all about sobriety, wouldn’t you, Dallas?”

  Anger burned in Dallas’s gut, sending blood pounding through his body.

  “I’d stop right there, if I were you.” Dallas clenched and unclenched his fists.

  “Well you’re not me, are you? Not any more. Not like the old days, eh?” John tried to grab Dallas’s hand, to show his missing finger. “See that Cassandra? How do you think he got that? Not by sipping bloody soda water, that’s for sure. Nor by hanging out in board rooms on his best behavior.”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow.” Dallas turned away and went outside with Cassandra, willing the blood-red pulsing in his veins to cease. It was only when the cool air hit him in the empty street that he stopped walking and passed the phone to Cassandra.

  “Call Todd, tell him we’ve had a change of plan. We won’t be needing him for a few hours.” He dimly registered the quiet control in his voice that didn’t reflect the blind anger he felt inside—it never had.

  “What’s wrong with now?” John called from behind them, the aggression in his voice impossible to ignore.

  “It’s not the time, nor the place. Leave it.” He began to walk away. He could do this.

  “Cassandra’s talki
ng nonsense, mate. Don’t listen to her. Fuck her if you want, but don’t mix business with pleasure.”

  In one swift movement Dallas was upon him, his fist tight around John’s collar, pinning him to the wall. He could barely hear Cassandra’s voice above the pounding of his own blood. The primitive urge to fight was all consuming.

  It was the fear in John’s eyes that finally penetrated his fury, prompting him to release John from his grip.

  “Don’t ever talk to me, or Cassandra, like that again John because, if you do, that will be the end. No more business.”

  “Sure, sure.” John pulled his jacket back into shape.

  “Look, I’m sorry.” Dallas pushed fingers through his hair, both angry and sorry that he’d been goaded into losing control. “We go back a long way John, and I owe you. But don’t push me again.”

  “That’s all I want Dallas. I want to do business with you, not some girl.”

  “You’re drunk, John. I’ll see you in a few days and we can discuss business then.”

  He walked away and Cassandra fell into step beside him.

  It took the length of the empty street before Dallas felt calm enough to speak. He turned to Cassandra for the first time.

  “I apologize for John.” He hesitated only a moment. “And I apologize for me.” What the hell was he doing? What the hell kind of effect was this woman having on him? He never apologized for anything.

  “You don’t have to apologize for someone else’s behavior.” They walked on a few more steps.

  He waited to see if she would comment on his own apology. She didn’t.

  The restaurant had once been a private villa. Prestigiously perched on the hills overlooking the glittering harbor, the grand old house now catered for patrons who desired privacy and were used to the best. And Dallas often enjoyed its discretion. Never more so than now as he sat back and watched Cassandra order her dinner from the waiter.