Knight's Mistress Page 3

He was like a solid wall of machismo blocking her way. She tried to keep her voice from trembling. ‘I can’t … sorry.’

He recognized the small flutter in her voice, debated responding, decided against it. ‘Let’s keep this simple,’ he said brusquely. ‘I need you in Amsterdam. So don’t tell me no.’

Jesus, that was either intimidating or damn intimidating. ‘Please move,’ she croaked.

‘In a second,’ he said with a flicker of a smile, feeling that this difficult young lady may have finally got the message. ‘Tell me what it’s going to take to get you on board. Name your price, if that’s the stumbling block. Max says you’re beyond gifted even for a high flyer and I need you in Amsterdam. This is important.’

‘To you.’

‘Yes. That’s the point. You can’t say you don’t want to work for Knight Enterprises. Everyone does.’

‘Not everyone.’

That small startle reflex again. He really wasn’t used to dissent.

‘Look, I’m sorry if I said something to offend you.’ Although there wasn’t a hint of apology in his tone. In fact, his annoyance was plain. He ran a quick hand over his face, as though to wipe away the betraying emotion. ‘The ball’s in your court, Miss Hart.’

‘What if I said I want to leave?’

The pause was so lengthy, a small moment of panic washed over her until she reminded herself it was the twenty-first century.

A winter chill coloured the blue of his eyes. ‘Do I frighten you?’

‘No.’ She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

He tipped his head slightly and smiled in the most disarmingly ruthless way. ‘Good. Then if you’ll sit down’ – he indicated a chair – ‘we can discuss my problem, your skill set and how we might cooperate.’

Deciding the chances of her fighting her way out of this office were slight to nil, she sat. ‘You really don’t take no for an answer, do you?’

‘I’m afraid not.’ He dropped into a large black leather chair behind his desk. ‘It’s not unique to a man in my position.’

A salient argument, but not one she chose to value. ‘You’re putting me in an awkward position, forcing this issue.’

‘On the contrary, you’ve put me in an awkward position. I’m offering you an excellent job. Max mentioned some of our issues in his emails. The dark market is making inroads in some of our outlier firms. It has to be stopped. Obviously you were intrigued or you wouldn’t be here. Why not accept?’

‘Personality clash. I heard you in the hallway.’

‘Perhaps you don’t understand the company’s organizational structure,’ he said with exquisite restraint. ‘I doubt we’ll meet again.’

‘I disagree. As I understand it, Knight Enterprises’ organizational structure is one of authoritarian leadership. You’re hands-on. You demand absolute compliance from subordinates.’

His mouth tightened. ‘You’ve done your homework.’

‘I always do. And I have several other job offers, Mr Knight. With the worldwide level of corruption, forensic accounting is in great demand.’ She smiled, sure of her prima donna status in her field at least. ‘Yours isn’t the only company losing money to the dark market.’

Her cheeky smile lit up her eyes and he looked at her for the first time as if she was more than just an obstacle in his path. She didn’t know how to dress, but then the clothes of the young IT set weren’t couture or colourful. Neutral tones went with their left brain functions. But her hair was a riot of red curls and her eyes were a potent green. Strange word. Bright green, he corrected himself. And beneath the drab army-green jacket and slacks, he could see hints of a lithe, supple body that went well with her wide-eyed innocent beauty.

His lashes drifted downwards an infinitesimal distance.

Hmmm. He hadn’t considered that before, too intent on talking her around to his point of view. Not an easy task with Miss Hart. She wasn’t docile. Or accommodating.

A provocative thought.

But he was a businessman first; there was time enough for other things once Miss Hart had done her job. Since he’d lost Julia, he was indifferent to women for anything other than sex and that was available anywhere. Miss Hart’s sexual function was immaterial.

What was material lay in Bucharest, and according to Max, Miss Hart was the answer to their problem. ‘Perhaps we could come to a compromise,’ he said, determined as always to prevail. ‘You could join us as a contractor. After you finish this Amsterdam job, you can walk. You’re a December graduate. Most of the major firms won’t start recruiting for another few weeks. You’d still be in the game.’

‘I’d have to turn down my current offers.’

‘I’d be happy to make some calls and get some brief deferments for you. I know everyone in this business.’

Nobody says no to me, indeed. How much did she want to piss off one of the most powerful men in the world? ‘You’re persistent.’ She gave him a polite smile.

‘So I’ve been told. Do you have family?’ He preferred employees with a casual attachment to family. They were more likely to work the long hours demanded of them.

‘You can’t ask that,’ she flatly said.

His smile was mocking. ‘Are you going to sue me?’

‘I won’t have to if I’m not working for you.’

Prev page Next page