8. KATE
8
KATE
W here then ?
The resonance of his voice rings over and over in my head. What did he mean by it? The unreadable expression on Nico’s face gave nothing away. Did he mean it to be as… suggestive as it sounded?
I’ve thought about him non-stop since Jack’s party and this morning I was so distracted by the strain of his muscles beneath his shirt that, of course, I took his words that way. I walked away from him like a stroppy teenager, and it’s possible he didn’t mean it like that at all.
But I had to get out of his general vicinity. The way he was looking at me… fuck . I don’t know if he does it on purpose, but there’s a raw sexuality about him, like he wears his sex drive on the outside. My entire body heated just being near him. Any longer and I’d have had sweat patches on my silk shirt.
“Big day, eh, Kate?” Jack’s voice pulls me back to the present moment. He’s leaning against the side of my desk, looking so comfortable you’d never know this was his first day in a new office.
I tilt my head. Yes .
Jack levers himself off my desk, props his hands on his hips, and looks around. “It’s an improvement on the little concrete block we leased,” he says. “Dad would have loved a building like this.”
I can’t disagree. The reception area downstairs is like a luxury hotel lobby. The ceiling must be twenty feet high, and the external walls are all glass.
My desk phone rings unexpectedly. I jump in my seat and the boy opposite, a pimply teenager with a shaved head whom I discovered earlier is Matt Hawkston’s son, Charlie, snorts in amusement. I scowl at him as I lift the handset. Jack is quietly chuckling too and raises a hand in a silent wave as he saunters back to his side of the office. I watch him go, noting the way the women steal glances at him. I roll my eyes and grip the phone.
“Hello, Kate Lansen speaking.”
“Miss Lansen, this is Victoria. Mr. Hawkston’s PA. He’s requested a meeting with you. It’s off-site. A car will pick you up outside reception in fifteen minutes. He’s instructed that you don’t eat anything beforehand.”
She hangs up before I can ask any of the questions that are running wild in my head. Off-site? Don’t eat anything? Which Mr. Hawkston? It’s unlikely to be Seb, seeing as we’ve had no dealings yet, and Charlie’s already told me his dad left for the States this morning. She must mean Nico. Springing an off-site meeting on me out of nowhere is just his style. His way of taking control and keeping me on the back-foot.
Nerves flutter in my stomach. I tell myself it’s because I’m annoyed at the brusque, impersonal invitation, and the presumption that I’ll drop everything for him.
I guess I have to go. Lansen Luxury Hotels might have been swallowed up by Hawkston, but keeping this job is the only way I can hold on to my spa project. And that’s my little slice of Dad’s legacy.
I step out onto the street, where a sleek, black car is waiting.
The flutter of nerves in my stomach has become a horrid, bubbling sensation in my gut. I don’t like surprises. This whole scenario has my anxiety sky-rocketing.
“Miss Lansen?” the chauffeur asks.
I give him a nod and he opens the door for me. Is Nico already inside? I suck in a breath as I go to get in and exhale with relief when I see the car is empty. He’s not here.
I straighten again and eye the driver. “Where are we going?”
“It’s confidential. I’m under instruction not to tell you.”
Weird . “How long is the drive?”
“I’m not at liberty to share that information.”
I hesitate, wondering if I should complain about this. It’s very odd. But the driver is staring at me, holding my door open, so I cave and get in, but I’m surprised when the car leaves and I’m the only passenger. We’re not waiting for Nico.
I sift through emails on my phone for a while, but as the minutes pass, I begin to feel increasingly uneasy. Where am I going? This is crazy. Maybe I need to call Jack and tell him where I am, in case I’m being kidnapped. I laugh a little at this idea. Nico might be an arsehole, but he’s not psychotic.
But even so, my palms are sweating and my thighs stick to the leather of the car seat. My stomach is so unsettled that I could be sick. What is Nico playing at?
We’re beyond the bounds of central London, and outside there are only green fields and trees.
Finally, the car approaches an imposing set of gates that look like they belong to a country manor, and it’s then I notice the sign. Hawkston Elite . I immediately know where we are. It’s one of only a handful of extremely high end Hawkston Country Clubs. This makes a certain type of sense, at least, but I feel no calmer about the situation.
We drive past pristine lawns on one side and a golf course on the other. An enormous stately home looms into view and we park outside.
“Here we are, Miss Lansen,” the chauffeur says, opening the door for me to get out. “You’re expected.”
My heels crunch across the gravel and I walk into reception. It’s beautiful in here, and low-level music is playing. It goes a long way to calming my nerves. Scented candles fill the space with a gorgeous floral aroma, and vast bouquets of white roses decorate the coffee tables positioned between velvet sofas at the edge of the lobby.
The word Hawkston rises over the receptionists’ heads, displayed on the wall behind in silver capital letters a foot high. Big, but not as big as Nico’s inflated ego.
A woman in a smart uniform greets me as though she’s expecting me, and hands me a folded white towelling robe.
I take it from her in a daze. “There must be a mistake—”
“No mistake, Miss Lansen. You’re booked in for a hot oil aromatherapy massage before lunch.”
A massage? Hot oil? Aromatherapy? Before lunch? I can’t process this overload of confusing information. It’s madness. I thought we were having a meeting. If Nico’s idea of a meeting is a couple’s hot oil massage, I might die.
I’m so confused. Am I angry or flattered?
Angry . I decide to be angry. He tricked me into coming here, with not a word of warning.
I try to pass the robe back to the woman. My anger is rising, but I know she’s not the one I need to take it out on. This isn’t her fault. “No. I can’t. I should be at work.”
The woman smiles calmly. “Mr. Hawkston gave instructions we are to put you at your ease until he arrives. The entire spa area is reserved for you until lunch.”
This makes no sense, but my mind clings onto one thing, and one thing only. Nico’s coming . “The entire spa? For me? What about your other guests?”
The woman gives me a tight smile and passes me the robe, and this time I take it from her. “It’s all yours for the next two hours. A massage first, followed by the sauna, steam room and plunge pools.”
Wow . This could well be the best first day in a new company that I have ever experienced, and I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve it.
I hug the robe. “All right. Lead the way.”
I’m blissed out as I lie on a lounger by the plunge pool. My muscles have been tenderized and I’ve sweated in the sauna. When did I last take time to myself like this? So relaxing. I’m practically asleep when the door opens.
“Little K.”
I lurch upright to find Nico staring at me. I thought I’d get a little warning before he showed up, and his sudden arrival has my empty stomach filling with jangling nerves.
He’s wearing an immaculate white shirt beneath an expensive charcoal suit, his hair casually coiffed to perfection. We’re alone for the first time since Jack’s party, and he’s all perfect and I’m a sweaty mess, wrapped in a hotel robe, damp hair scraped back off my sauna-baked face. I bet he did this on purpose.
He’s so handsome that it hurts to look directly at him, like staring into the sun.
I squint, then force my eyes wide. I will not be attracted to him, even if I have to put my body on a leash to control its impulses.
Maybe I can find something repulsive about him. Something that will put a dampener on this excruciating crush.
As if he reads my thoughts, dark eyes flash at me, causing a ripple of warmth to pool at the apex of my thighs.
Nope . There is nothing physically repulsive about Nico Hawkston whatsoever. He’s appealing in totality.
I imagine him pushing me back down on the lounger and ripping off my robe, and fucking me like I’ve never been fucked before . I’m screaming, begging for more, more, more…
The scene is so compelling that every sane thought vanishes from my mind.
This cannot be happening. Shit .
Sweat pearls down my back.
I strive to control my subconscious, focusing on the real, present moment Nico, still standing calmly over by the door, one hand in his pocket. Effortlessly sexy.
He runs his other hand through his hair. What would it feel like to be touched like that? To have him run his fingers over my skin… my shoulders… my breasts… my—
Get it together .
“What the hell is this, Nico?” I speak quickly in a desperate attempt to keep my mind on track, gesturing around the spa. The irritation in my voice contrasts harshly with the calming music floating from the speakers in the ceiling.
He eyes me with amusement. “So direct, Little K. No time for pleasantries?”
I stiffen. “Stop calling me that. I don’t like it.” His mouth fixes into a line and his chin shifts almost imperceptibly, as if he might be listening to me this time. I tighten the belt around my robe and stand. “I was freaking out in the car over here. The driver wouldn’t tell me where I was going. That was cruel. Manipulative.”
He appears contrite, his gaze dipping to the ground for a moment before flicking back up to me. “I’m sorry you see it that way. I wanted to clear the air after our interaction at Jack’s party. It appeared to cause you significant distress.”
This stuns me. “So you booked me a massage and closed the spa for me?”
Nico tilts his head in agreement. “As you see. An apology for our last interaction.”
Should I thank him for this? I recall the wonderful massage and have to admit that this is the best morning I’ve had in ages. “You should have asked me first. Who knows I’m here? Does Jack know?”
Nico presses his lips together, and a beat passes before he says, “No.”
My heart squeezes at his confession. He didn’t even tell Jack he’d done this for me. Why not? Did he want to keep it secret, just between the two of us? The idea thrills me. But then I remind myself it was all arranged behind my back, just like the deal to buy our family company, and I’m annoyed again. “You can’t sweep me off to a spa without telling anyone. Without telling me . It’s insane.”
He frowns. “Is it? You’re running a spa project, aren’t you? Consider it market research.”
I cross my arms and glare at him. “There was no need for any of this.”
Nico strokes his jaw. The low rasp of stubble on skin scrapes through the room. What would it feel like against my inner thighs?
Stop .
“Here’s the deal, Little K. Any unresolved emotional situation puts me off my game. I’m a busy man. I can’t have”—his gaze runs up and down my body. A feather-light touch that’s almost physical—“distractions in the office.” I’m a distraction? That I could affect him at all blows my mind. “It’s an energetic trickle down effect. The successful operation of this company originates here.” He taps his chest. “I have to maintain focus.”
What a pompous ass .
“Then I should go. I wouldn’t want to impede your performance .”
Shit . I just hammered the last word with sexual innuendo and I didn’t even mean to. Is this how every conversation we have is going to go? How am I supposed to handle the daily onslaught of this loathsome man’s sex appeal?
The muscles around Nico’s mouth tighten like he’s constraining the urge to smile. “We’re not done clearing the air.”
As much as I hate it, his commanding tone fixes my feet to the floor, but years of suppressed anger blaze beneath my skin enabling me to speak my mind. “You can’t clear this, Nico. There’s too much. And you know what annoys me the most? That you did the deal without my knowledge because you knew I wouldn’t like it. It was underhand, and it was unfair.”
“That’s not what we did.”
His denial has my rage escalating and my voice is scratchy. “Don’t lie! It’s exactly what you did. You and Jack kept secrets from me. You treated me like a kid who can’t handle the big business. I’m not a child anymore. I know I didn’t own the company, but Lansen was my father’s legacy. I deserved to know what you were planning for it. Jack ought to have told me, but you… fuck, Nico…” I break off, covering my face with my hands.
He steps closer, and for a second I think he’s going to cross the room and take me in his arms, but he stops, and his voice is tender when he says, “Kate…”
Kate?
But not even the use of my full name is enough to penetrate my fury. I let my hands fall. “When you saw how much I didn’t want this to happen, you threw money at the issue. An extra ten million.” My whole body is trembling, and where my voice was scratchy before, it’s raw now. “And now this?” I indicate the luxurious spa area. “Do you think you can buy me? That you can get your wallet out and I’ll do exactly what you want?”
Nico’s flinch is the merest crack in his veneer, instantly smoothed like it was never there. “That money wasn’t an attempt to buy you. It was a gesture of goodwill.”
“Save it for Jack. I don’t want your goodwill. And I don’t want your hot oil massages either.” I sound like a total bitch, and I really loved that massage, but I’m not about to admit that to Nico. But he’s so unmoved that I keep goading him. “If it had been up to me, I would never have sold our company to you, no matter how much cash you were willing to pay. I will not be bought.”
Explode, you prick. Yell back at me. Give me some hint you feel as strongly about this as I do.
But he keeps his calm, staring at me for a moment before glancing at his watch. “It’s time for lunch. We’re booked in the private dining area upstairs. There’s a delicious seabass dish on the menu. I recall it’s your favourite, so I ordered ahead for both of us.”
My mouth falls open. Is he for real? Does he think I’ll sit and eat with him after everything I just said? But I do love seabass. I can’t believe he remembered that. And I’m starving. I press a hand to my stomach, hoping it doesn’t rumble.
“I don’t eat fish anymore,” I lie.
His expression opens with surprise. “What do you eat?” He points back at the door. “I can change your order.”
“Don’t. I have lunch plans,” I fire back, picturing the room temperature contents of the Tupperware I stuffed in my handbag this morning.
Nico smooths his tie with one hand, staring at me like I’m a scientific exhibit he’s never encountered before. Clearly, rejection is not something he’s had much experience with. “I’d advise you to reconsider. It’s a rare opportunity for an employee as junior as you to be invited to lunch with the CEO. In fact, it’s unheard of.”
The arrogance. But he has a point. A one-to-one lunch with Nico Hawkston is career gold dust, but I’m too irritated to see it that way . “You didn’t invite me to lunch.” I fist my hands at my sides to restrain the urge to flap them. “You ambushed me. And now you’re expecting me to drop to my knees and thank you for it.”
As soon as I’ve said the last sentence, I immediately want to shove it back inside my mouth as a hot blush burns my cheeks.
He draws back slightly, one eyebrow creeping up. “I was expecting no such thing.”
Just me with the filthy mind then …
“A simple thank you would have been enough,” Nico adds, his mouth twitching in amusement. “But don’t let me stop you if you’re more comfortable on your knees.”
Holy shit. What did he just say?
He gestures to the floor like he’s waiting for my kneecaps to hit the tiles.
I straighten my spine to meet his gaze head on, trying to muster as much dignity as possible while dressed in a fluffy dressing gown. He’s messing with me, but there’s a definite heat in those dark irises, like he knows exactly what effect his words have on me. It scorches a path down to my core. If I don’t get out of this room soon, I have no idea what’s going to happen, but it won’t be good for my career.
I glance at the door, hoping to make an escape. “If there’s nothing else, I should get back to the office.”
He raises a hand to deter me from moving. “There is one more thing I wanted to discuss before you go. Your spa project—”
“No!” White-hot anger rushes through my system, propelling me to take a bold step in his direction. “You might have bought my father’s company, but keep your greedy hands off my project. That was my father’s dream, and I’m going to be the one to complete it. If you dare interfere, I swear to God, Nico, I will kill you myself. You already messed things up enough for Dad. I won’t let you do it to me—” I’m so carried away on a crest of outrage that it takes me far too long to notice that Nico’s staring at me like I’ve gone completely crazy.
He closes the distance between us, and his energy hits me like a wall. I’m way too worked up for him to be increasing his proximity like this. What is he doing?
He tilts his head and raises a brow. “You were saying?”
“I thought…” I frown, shake my head just a fraction.
“You don’t think much of me, do you?”
The question takes me by surprise and all I can manage in response is a gulp.
“I have no intention of taking your project,” he continues. “I know how capable you are. Jack’s always singing your praises. And David Webster tells me you’ve done a stellar job thus far. The feedback is good. Great, even.”
“Then what were you going to say?”
“Exactly that. I’m impressed.”
Against my will, delight flashes through me. I hate how good his praise feels. If I were a dog, I’d be rolling on my back, tongue out, kicking my feet at the ceiling, and begging him to rub my belly. Fuck, fuck, fuck .
“I want you to have the best of Hawkston to work with,” he continues. “I’ve picked out a team of twenty employees with skills particularly suited to your project.”
This takes my breath away. Why would he bother paying this sort of attention to a project like mine? It’s small scale compared to what he has to deal with. Well below his pay grade . “Thank you,” I grit out.
“You deserve it. Not many people would have persevered with a project as long as you have. It’s commendable.”
That flash of delight repeats. More of this and I’ll be licking his expensive shoes any minute now. I hope it doesn’t show on my face. “I’m doing it for my dad.”
“I know.”
My chest constricts. His response is so direct, so simple, and yet it means more than it should. He understands why I drive myself so hard and why this isn’t just another project. Nico was Dad’s godson. It might have ended badly between them, but perhaps he isn’t immune to that shared history. I’m certainly not.
My heart thumps and silence stretches between us before Nico speaks again.
“Stay. Have lunch with me.”
I hold his gaze for a moment, and there’s a softness in his eyes that’s inviting. He appears to want my company, and for a second I want to say yes, want to grasp this moment alone with him. But I remind myself that Nico Hawkston is still a controlling, arrogant arse who cares more about money than people, and a few kind words and big gestures aren’t enough to change my opinion of him.
“Like I said, I have plans. But there must be at least a hundred other junior employees who would jump at the opportunity to have lunch with you.”
He slides his hands into his pockets. “True. But I don’t want them. I want you.”
My stomach bottoms out. Ten years ago, I would have died to hear those words from Nico. But now, it’s too late. I steel myself and say, “The answer is still no.”
He flicks a flat look my way. “You’d better have some very important plans.”
A few beats of silence hang in the air. I’m not explaining myself any more than I have already.
“Will that be all?” I keep my voice as hard and cold as I can manage, which is a challenge, given the heat raging through my body.
“For now, yes. You can go.”
His tone is even colder than mine. Well, fuck him .
I march double-speed out of the spa, pushing the door open with such force that I’m surprised I don’t hear it clattering off its hinges behind me. “I’m putting my cab back to the office through expenses,” I yell over my shoulder.
He doesn’t reply, but even if he had, it wouldn’t matter because the words I want you have taken up residence in my head. I can hear nothing else.
I want you, I want you, I want you .
And in spite of everything, all I want is to turn around, march back into the spa, and ask him to say it again.