Rival's Challenge

Orla burned inside because she agreed with every word he said. Anyone would have known it, except a fool in love like her father. She’d long ago despaired of her mother’s ability to skew his judgement and it had taught her to steer well clear of something similar happening to her. Never would she be so blinded by emotion in business. So what happened the other night? a small voice jeered in her head. That had been lust, Orla told herself fiercely. Not emotion.

Hating the way her throat suddenly felt tight, she said stiffly, ‘I don’t really see the benefit in discussing why we’re in this position. I’m more interested in discussing the future.’

To her intense relief, Antonio shrugged one broad shoulder minutely and went back behind the desk to sit down. He pulled her sheaf of papers towards him and began to flick through them with long fingers.

Orla sat down again too, and her heartbeat returned to some semblance of normality. Well, what was normal for her around this man which was still abnormally fast.

He glanced up once he’d flicked through them all. He was almost bored. ‘There’s nothing new here.’

Orla swallowed. This was her chance to try and claw back some control. ‘I know why it’s so important to you to gain control of the Kennedy Group.’

Immediately Antonio looked dangerous, reminding her of what she’d sensed when she’d first met him.

‘You do.’ It wasn’t a question.

She nodded. ‘You want us because we’re vulnerable but also because you’re trying to prove to your CEO that you don’t need outside help to restore confidence in your brand.’

‘And how—’ Antonio’s voice was lethally soft ‘—did you figure this out?’

CHAPTER FOUR

ORLA FELT HOT in her jacket. She longed to take it off but didn’t dare. ‘The tabloids follow your family all over the world. It’s been rumoured that your new CEO has been instructed to find roles for the family in various meaningful positions, in order to contain the negative public image.’

Antonio was positively glacial now. ‘Do I strike you as the sort of person to bend to another’s will?’

Orla quivered inwardly at the thought of him bending to her will … in the bedroom. She shook her head quickly as if that could dispel the incendiary thought. ‘No,’ she had to admit reluctantly. Her theory seemed to fit for everyone else, but he was right. Not Antonio. He was a self-made millionaire who ran one of the world’s most secretive and successful security companies.

Orla lifted her chin. ‘Nevertheless, family loyalty, or something, has put you in this position. The truth is … Antonio …’ Orla hated how saying his name felt so intimate. ‘The truth is that we need each other.’

The ice in Antonio’s eyes disappeared and was replaced by heat. Instantly Orla cursed her choice of words.

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ he drawled.

Furious at herself for allowing that lazy opening, she said, ‘I don’t mean like that. What I mean is that you need me to agree to this takeover just as much as the survival of our name needs you, the Chatsfields.’

Orla crossed her arms and refused to let him intimidate her with those hot and cold looks. ‘And I’m not saying yes to anything until you agree to come and see how we work and sign an addendum to the contract that puts my father on the board as a member so that he can ensure the protection of our reputation.’

Now Antonio was furious. ‘There’s been no mention of your father being allowed to sit on the board.’

Orla stood up, relishing doing something that might dent this man’s insufferable arrogance even for a moment. ‘Well, there is now.’

Antonio stood up too, and advanced around the table, making Orla’s brief feeling of triumph dissolve in a pathetic rush of heat to her core.

He stopped just inches away from her and she found it hard to breathe or think clearly. What had he just said? All she could see was that formidable body and the stark gorgeous lines of his face. His mouth. All she could feel was her body going on fire.

‘Seeing as how we seem to be negotiating all sorts of new items, perhaps you can tell me how we’re going to negotiate this?’

This was Antonio coming closer and reaching for Orla with one big hand around her waist and the other at the back of her head, and before she had time to say a word or do anything, he’d pulled her against his hard body and his mouth was on hers in a bruising passionate kiss. She was welded so tightly against him that she could feel the hard thrust of his arousal against her belly and just like that her brain went molten.

The pent-up sexual frustration of the past week meant Orla had no defence for this sensual attack. She went up in flames. Her arms were around Antonio’s neck, hands clasping his head, fingers tunnelling through silky thick hair, before she could even stop herself.

It was as if someone had lit a match to a bone-dry piece of tumbleweed. Antonio boldly thrust his tongue into Orla’s mouth and she sucked it deeper, relishing the way his body jerked against hers. Here, at least, they were equal.

Orla’s breasts felt swollen and sensitive, nipples stinging and chafing against the lace of her bra. Antonio was dislodging her hands and arms, pushing her jacket off her shoulders and down her arms. She felt a slight breeze glide over hot skin but even that wasn’t enough to douse this insanity.

There was something desperate in their mutual combustion.

Their mouths were welded together, Orla’s hands exploring the powerful width of Antonio’s shoulders, and down, over his rock-hard biceps, lingering, squeezing.