Dark Alpha (ALPHA 2) (5 page)

He had respected her more when she hadn’t.

And tried his damndest to forget her.

Nicky McKenzie was beautiful, yes. As well as intriguingly frank, in a way he wasn’t used to. But Lucien had made it a rule over the years never to pursue any woman. He rarely spent more than one night in the company, or bed, of the same woman; it tended to give ideas of a permanence that simply didn’t, and as far as Lucien was concerned, never would exist. That he had suggested Nicky might become his mistress that night had been completely out of character. That she had refused had been by far the wisest choice, for him, as well as for her.

But she was back now. Slightly changed. More mature. But still the same earthy and desirable Nicky he had wanted to fuck eight months ago.

“Then which job were you referring to?” He didn’t like her hair confined like this, but it did allow his gaze to fix hungrily on that enticing mole just beneath her earlobe. “No, don’t turn around,” he instructed, as she would have done exactly that. He licked his lips as he anticipated licking and then sucking that mole.

She tensed, becoming rigid under his hands as Lucien rested them lightly on her shoulders before stepping up closer behind her. So close Lucien could feel the trembling heat of her body, and smell the intoxication of her arousal.

Nicky ran the moistness of her tongue over the dryness of her lips, her face feeling hot, her palms damp, her blouse feeling too tight against the hard pebbles of her aroused nipples, as she was utterly and completely aware of the danger of Lucien’s body behind her.

She had known she shouldn’t come here. That she should stay well away from a man like Lucien. And she would have done exactly that if she hadn’t been so desperate she didn’t know where else to go. “You gave me a card with this address on it and—and told me to contact you when I finished university. You said you might be able to offer me a job with your company.”

“We met again after I made that initial offer,” he reminded softly.

Nicky swallowed as she too easily remembered every detail of that second meeting. “The only reason I’m here today is because you said there might be a job for me in your company after I graduated,” she repeated firmly.

His eyes narrowed. “By my calculation you left university two months ago?”

“I—yes.” She blushed guiltily. “I had the offer of another job with a finance company nearer to where I live, and decided to take that instead.”

“What happened?”

Nicky blinked back the sudden tears that stung her eyes as she thought of the misery of the previous two months.

She had found herself what she had considered a really good job with one of the best finance companies in the city, moved into a new apartment, a much smaller one now that Neil was living in the residence halls at the university. But even so the rent was crippling, when she was also paying Neil’s fees as well as her own student loans.

But that hadn’t been so bad; she was used to occasionally going without food, and not being able to go out. What she hadn’t expected was to have the senior partner of Jenkins, Simmons and Simmons invite her up to his office to ‘see how she was settling in’. Not just once, but several times.

She hadn’t even realized why in the beginning, not until he invited her out to lunch—an invitation Nicky had politely but firmly refused.

After that his advances hadn’t been quite so subtle or casual, but had become outright demands that she have sex with him. If not, he had told her with a knowing smile, she could start looking for new employment.

Nicky hadn’t been able to stand it anymore and had saved him the trouble of sacking her and just left.

That had been a month ago, and every job she had applied for since, Lionel Jenkins had somehow ensured she didn’t get it. Even temps needed references, she had discovered.

Out of money, and options—in a state of pure desperation—Nicky had remembered Lucien Wynter’s job offer of eight months ago.

She must have been mad to ever think this man, this devil in Armani, would ever help her.

Oh yes, she recognized the make of his suit now, and that his shirts were of the finest, softest silk. That those black shoes of his would have been handmade in Italy.

And here she stood, in her inexpensive suit and blouse, out of her depth, out of a job, and shortly to be evicted from her rabbit-hutch of a flat, if she didn’t come up with last month’s rent as well this one’s too.

Even so, Nicky knew she had been stupid to come here. Stupid and naive, when the man standing behind her, the weight of his hands resting on her shoulders, and the warm hardness of his body so dangerously close to her own, so obviously didn’t have a heart she could appeal to.

Trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea, Nicky, out of desperation, really had chosen the devil...

“I asked what happened, Nicky?”

She winced as she stepped away from that grip on her shoulders, not caring that Lucien’s fingers had probably left bruises on her skin. She just needed to put some space between the two of them. To be able to breathe again.

“It didn’t work out.” She shrugged as she turned to face him.

“I want the truth, Nicky. All of it,” he added mercilessly.

Nicky eyed him warily, sensing—sensing— “You already know,” she realized heavily, her heart sinking at the thought of exactly what Lucien knew. How he knew. “You’ve spoken to Lionel Jenkins.” It was an accusation, not a question.

Lucien’s expression remained coolly impassive. “I made a few telephone calls, yes, once I knew you were downstairs asking to see me,” he acknowledge derisively.

Which explained why she had been kept waiting outside for so long.

“Knowledge is power, Nicky,” he reminded her softly.

Yes, it was. If that knowledge also happened to be the truth. But if it wasn’t, then it was just malicious gossip.

She had no doubts that the things Lionel Jenkins would have told Lucien about her would have been exactly what the bastard had told everyone else at Jenkins, Simmons and Simmons. And all the other prospective employers Nicky had applied to since she’d had no choice but to leave her job: that she had kissed him, come on to him, and then threatened to tell his wife and family if he didn’t give her £10,000.

It was all lies, of course. Every word of it.

But not one of the people she worked with had been willing to back up her claim of innocence, even though she had found out since that Lionel Jenkins had blackmailed other female employees into having sex with him in order to keep their job.

Nor had any of the prospective employers of this past month believed her denials of any misconduct on her part. Or her claim that Lionel Jenkins was the one who had tried to blackmail her, not the other way around.

Probably because of who he was and who she was; Lionel Jenkins was the Senior Partner of the finance company Jenkins, Simmons, and Simmons, and Nicky was a nobody, without family or influential friends. And when it came down to it, it was basically Nicky’s word against his.

Not that any of that mattered here and now. Not when it seemed Lucien had ensured he knew everything there was to know about that situation before she had even come up to this office on the penthouse floor.

That knowledge was probably the only reason he had agreed to see her. She had walked out on him after telling him exactly what he could do with his offer of her becoming his mistress. No doubt he considered being able to watch her squirm now poetic justice.

“I trust you’ve enjoyed your few moments of revenge, Mr. Wynter.” Nicky eyed him scathingly before turning on her heel and marching angrily to the door.

“I may still want to fuck you, Nicky, but if you walk out that doorway right now you’ll never be allowed to walk back through it!”

Nicky came to an abrupt halt several feet away from the door, her breathing ragged as she refused to allow the tears stinging her eyes to fall.

She drew in several more deep breaths before turning. “I can’t think of any reason why I would ever want to do so.” Her chin was raised challengingly.

He strolled unhurriedly across the room, not towards her, but to resume his seat behind that imposing marble desk, before answering her, those chiseled lips twisted derisively. “Possibly because, at this moment in time,” he drawled confidently as he looked at her across that shiny onyx-colored marble, “I’m the only person in the city currently willing to employ you.”

Nicky didn’t trust this man, or his supposed offer of employment. And why should she, when Lucien Wynter had allowed her to totally humiliate herself today. First, by initially acting as if he didn’t recognize or know her, when he so clearly did. Second, by allowing her to grovel by asking for a job with his company, when he clearly had no intention of giving her one.

Not one that she wanted to accept, anyway.

Her chin rose even higher. “Go screw yourself, Mr. Wynter.”

“I’m only going to say this once more, Nicky, so my advice to you is to listen very carefully.” The very quietness of Lucien’s voice cracked across the room with the painful force of a whip. “I may have allowed you to walk out on me once, but—”
 

“You didn’t allow me to do anything—”
 

“—if you walk out on me in anger again,” he continued icily, “I promise you I will never agree to see or speak with you again.”

Pride warred with necessity inside Nicky.

She didn’t trust this man.

Just as she hated the effect he had on her. Even now, her traitorous body was responding, becoming ultra-sensitive, to his every word.

A response he admitted to sharing—if saying he wanted to ‘fuck’ her could be classified as such.

“Not even if you were to beg, Nicky.”

Her chin rose. “I would never beg you for anything—” She broke off as he raised mocking brows, her cheeks heating as she remembered that she
had
begun to beg for release in Petruccio’s. “I am not interested in becoming your mistress, Mr.— ”
 

“Maybe you should wait until you’re asked before turning me down?”

“I’m just letting you know that, not even in your dreams, will I ever consider becoming your mistress!” He was tying Nicky up in knots with his taunting and teasing.

Lucien wasn’t sure Nicky was ready to hear about the dreams he’d had about her.

He had surprised even himself with those graphic images. Nicky lying naked on her back, stretched across his conference table like a sacrificial offering. Nicky bent over that same table, her pretty backside raised invitingly. Nicky on the floor on her hands and knees. And always—always—with his cock buried to the hilt in her grasping, clasping pussy.

Even more incredible, on several occasions Lucien had woken in the morning to find his sheets damp from his own release. Something he hadn’t done—hadn’t felt the necessity to do—since he was in his teens.

The vividness of those dreams had faded as the weeks, and then months, passed. Only for them to blaze back into full, technicolored life the moment Nicky McKenzie walked into his office.

To his annoyance, if Lucien was honest with himself. And he always made a point of being that, at least.

He didn’t want to desire any woman in the way that he apparently still wanted Nicky McKenzie. It was the sort of complication, attachment, he usually—always—avoided.

This building, his office, his apartment, was his fortress. With his cousin Dair in charge of security there was no way anyone would get in here if the other man didn’t want them to. And for that, read if Lucien didn’t want them to.

But the moment Dair had phoned and informed him that Nicky McKenzie was downstairs, asking to see him, Lucien had known he was going to agree to see her again.

If only to know if she still had the same effect on him.

She did.

His jaw tightened. “So, Nicky, are you going to tell me what really happened between you and Lionel Jenkins, or are you just going to run away again?”

No matter what Lucien might think to the contrary, Nicky knew she had only ever run away once in her life, and he didn’t scare her half as much as the people who had been chasing her then. The same people who she had no doubts were still looking for Felicity Bennett...

She gave a dismissive shake of her head. “You really aren’t that scary, Mr. Wynter.”

“No?” He arched mocking brows.

“No,” Nicky assured him. Lucien might be able to seduce her at a glance, but the man her father had double-crossed was capable of burying her body where no one would ever find it. At least, his paid thugs were: she very much doubted that Jack Montgomery ever bothered dirtying his own hands with such tasks. Why should he, when he paid people to do it for him?

“I would have thought Lionel Jenkins would be a perfect fit for that ‘rich old man’, your friend once referred to, in regard to your becoming his mistress just so he could keep you and pay off all your debts?” Lucien arched one dark brow.

Nicky gave a pained wince as she realized how accurately Lionel Jenkins’ might fit in with that conversation Lucien had overheard. “Chrissie was only joking that day in the coffee shop,” she dismissed irritably. “And Lionel Jenkins’ claim that I tried to blackmail him is a complete fabrication—”