A Scandal Made in London - Page 2

Because he’d definitely be doing something, he thought grimly as he clicked around the site, his horror growing with every passing second. Kate clearly needed looking out for. In fact, he should have been keeping an eye on her and her younger sister ever since their older brother Mike’s death nine months ago. Discreetly. From afar. But nonetheless making sure they were as okay as they could be, because the debt he owed him was huge, because Mike had died because of something he could have prevented, and finally because they had no one else.

So why hadn’t he done anything? Why hadn’t he even been aware Kate was working for him? Guilt? Denial? The fact that these days he only seemed to function through sheer force of will?

Well, whatever it was, it stopped now because she, at least, was not okay. She’d evidently lost her tiny little mind. Furthermore, by signing herself up to this particular website she’d put herself at considerable risk, and that was unacceptable. The potential consequences didn’t bear thinking about, and a person hurt—or worse—because he hadn’t done enough to stop it simply could not happen again. Twice in one lifetime was more than enough.

‘What action do you want me to take?’ asked Antonio, cutting off Theo’s thoughts before they could scythe through the fog of Mike’s death and hurtle down memory lane to his own turbulent teenage years.

‘Shut the site down,’ Theo said as he pushed the tablet in Antonio’s direction and slammed a mental door on Harmony’s bio and the photos. ‘Whatever it takes, however much it costs, shut it down.’

The head of security acknowledged the order with a brief nod of his head. ‘And with regards to the employee in question?’

‘I’ll deal with her.’

* * *

Not once in the five and a half months she’d been working at the Knox Group had Kate been summoned to the hallowed top floor of the central London building that housed it, and that was fine with her. Her position as a middle-ranking accountant didn’t merit the dubious honour, and, quite frankly, the less she had to do with the horrible Theo Knox, the better.

Not that they knew each other well, thank God. He might have been supposed ‘friends’ with her brother—although she struggled with the concept that her uptight, aloof über boss could ever do anything as human as friends—but she’d only met him once. At Mike’s funeral nine months ago, in fact. And since that had hardly been a cordial encounter, she hadn’t expected him to be in touch.

He was the man, after all, who’d coldly told her he wasn’t interested and then turned his back on her when she’d made the monumental mistake of asking him for his support. All she’d wanted was a quick drink after the wake. To talk. Nothing more. Everyone else had left and she’d been distraught, feeling so horribly alone she’d simply wanted to prolong the afternoon by talking about her brother with someone who presumably had known him well. High and mighty Theo Knox, however, had evidently interpreted her suggestion as an invitation, and had treated it with the disdain and contempt he obviously felt it deserved before spinning on his heel and stalking off.

Kate had stood there staring at his retreating figure, open-mouthed and dumbstruck, unsure whether to laugh or cry because had he really thought she was coming on to him? At her brother’s funeral? How inappropriate, how downright absurd, was that? His arrogance had been breathtaking. She’d never encountered self-absorption like it. Even worse was the lousy way his unwarranted rejection had made her feel. She shouldn’t have cared what he thought of her since he meant absolutely nothing to her, yet his response had pulverised what little self-esteem she had, and for one blazing moment she’d never hated anyone more.

So if she’d been in any position to turn down the offer of a job at his company that had come her way shortly after, she’d have done so. However, she had bills to pay and the salary she’d been offered had been too generous to refuse. Not generous enough, of course, to cover the stratospheric sums of money her sister’s residential care facility required, nor the repayment of the ever-increasing debt her brother had accrued to cover it, but definitely generous enough to make her want to pass her probationary period. And that was why, when she’d received the call from Theo’s assistant requesting her presence on the top floor at precisely six p.m., the time she should have been leaving for home, she’d obeyed instead of telling him where to stick his imperious demand.

The lift she was travelling in slowed until it came to a smooth stop, and the doors opened with a soft swoosh. Automatically reminding herself not to slouch, Kate lifted her chin and crossed the plush white carpet that covered the floor with a long-legged stride.

When she arrived at the reception desk, she was waved in the direction of a pair of vast wooden doors, and headed towards them. Taking a deep breath, she knocked, and didn’t have to wait long before a deep masculine voice barked, ‘Come in.’

Kate braced herself and did as he’d commanded. The minute she walked through the door her attention instantly zoomed in on the man sitting behind the oak monolith of a desk, the man who was looking at her with a dark intensity and a stillness that radiated powerful authority and suggested complete and utter control.

Of her surroundings—the sleek white office so vast her entire flat would fit in it, the crystal-clear wall-to-wall windows that allowed the early evening late spring sunshine to flood in, the luxurious furnishings and the colourful pops of modern art on the walls—she was only dimly aware. All she was conscious of was her boss, the rude, condescending, hurtful jerk, and the memory of the intense loathing he’d once aroused in her.

‘Shut the door.’

She did so, then walked towards him, the office becoming increasingly hot and claustrophobic with every step she took. Which, given the state-of-the-art temperature control the building had, was odd, and not a little disturbing.

As was the automatic way in which she seemed to be taking a mental inventory of his looks. At Mike’s funeral she’d been in too great a state to register much about any of the guests, least of all him. Now, though, she had to grudgingly admit that the gossip columns, which lauded his appearance as much as they lamented his enigmatic elusiveness, were right. With his short dark hair, obsidian eyes and chiselled features he was easily the best-looking man she’d ever seen. The shoulders beneath the suit were impressively broad and they were matched by an equally impressive height, which she knew to be true because even though he was now sitting down, she’d just had a brief flash of memory of how she’d been in the unusual position of having to look up at him when she’d suggested a drink that afternoon.

He was also immaculate, she thought resentfully, taking in the perfection of his appearance as she advanced. Did he ever shove his hands through his hair in frustration? Ever permit even the hint of a five o’clock shadow? She doubted it. And had he ever been paralysed by self-doubt or plagued by rock-bottom self-esteem as she continually was? Even more unlikely. The man was a machine. A high-performing, single-minded, ruthlessly brilliant one, if the business press was to be believed, but a machine nevertheless.

Well.

Whatever.

What he was and how he looked were immaterial. So he was staggeringly handsome, in enviable control of himself and a good three or four inches taller than her. He was still a deeply unpleasant human being.

Coming to a halt a foot from the desk, Kate pulled herself together and reminded herself to stay calm, since it wouldn’t do to reveal either how little she thought of him or how vulnerable she could be if she kept remembering how wretched he’d once made her feel. ‘Mr Knox,’ she said coolly. ‘You wanted to see me?’

Something flickered in the depths of his dark eyes, something that flashed and burned and swiftly disappeared but nevertheless made her pulse skip a beat and her blood heat. ‘I did,’ he said with a brief nod in the direction of the two modern armchairs on her side of the desk. ‘Theo will do. Sit down.’

‘Thank you.’

Deliberately taking her time, Kate folded her six-foot-one frame into a chair and then spent a couple of vital seconds tugging her jacket down and smoothing her skirt. She needed to settle herself. This pulse-skipping, blood-heating business was ridiculous, as was the strange restlessness that churned around inside her. Nerves, most probably, because she had no idea why she’d been summoned and despite what she thought of him he was a bit intimidating. Or dread perhaps, the kind that came from knowing that one false move and the many plates she had spinning would crash to the ground. But still, either way, it was absurd.

‘How are you?’

She stilled for a second and fought back a frown. What? Now he wanted pleasantries? Well, okay, she could do that. She could forget how they’d met for now. She couldn’t imagine he remembered in any case. He certainly didn’t appear to recognise her. ‘Fine,’ she said brightly, as if she weren’t wrung out with stress and exhaustion. ‘You?’

Tags: Lucy King Billionaire Romance
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