Undressed by the Boss (Mills & Boon By Request) (6 page)

‘You look lovely,’ he said.

She did?

No one had ever told her she looked lovely before. She was frequently told she was too intense, too career-orientated, too serious, too driven. And in fairness all of the above was true. Lovely, however, was not a word anyone associated with her.

‘Shall we?’ he invited, gesturing towards the bank of elevators down the hall.

She had to rip her stare from his face first, which wasn’t easy.

So what now? Casey wondered, trying not to make it too obvious that she had to run every now and then to keep up with Raffa. The avenue they were speeding down, which could never be called a corridor in a million years, had a gilded roof that arced above them, decorated with cherubs and rosettes of flowers, while the marble floor was strewn with priceless rugs and guarded by towering pillars garnished with gold leaf, lapis lazuli, and enough light to illuminate small town. So, if this was merely Raffa’s flagship hotel, what would his palace be like? Not that she ever expected to see it, of course.

Casey swayed dizzily as they reached the apex of the glass atrium. Was it her fear of heights, her reaction to the sight of Raffa in a business suit looking even sexier than he had in
jeans, or the wildest daydream of all—which, if she had been another, bolder person entirely, was to loosen that tie and peel back that jacket?

In front of his bodyguards?

Casey shuddered as the black-clad men emerged from the shadows. She viewed them nervously. Should she greet them or not? She decided
not
when they stared past her.

‘You’re a woman, and so invisible,’ Raffa informed her discreetly.

Oh, good … She had to get used to the idea that Raffa was never alone.

Was
Raffa ever alone?

She refused to progress that thought. And as she preceded him into the glass elevator and felt him behind her, like a power source that made all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention, she wondered if he somehow sensed her attraction to him and her total ignorance of such things too.

‘How do you like the hotel, Casey?’

‘A lot—thank you …’ She stared fixedly ahead. This wasn’t the time to explain that she was terrified of heights, or to acknowledge that they were really high up and travelling down the side of one of the tallest buildings in the city at lightning speed. It was a relief when Raffa moved in front of her, blocking the view—or it might have been if he hadn’t been standing quite so close.

‘Are you scared of heights?’ he said, frowning. ‘You should have said. We could have travelled another way.’

Base-jumping, clinging to his back?

She’d put nothing past him.

And now she had nowhere to stare, but at Raffa, and the wide expanse of his chest. The suit he was wearing complemented the depth of his tan, and hinted at enough of the hard form underneath to tease her senses, while the dark blue silk tie picked up the raven’s wing highlights in his hair. She could only conclude that his face would always be stubble-shaded, since she had never seen it any other way, and those sensual lips—

‘Surely you’re not cold?’ Raffa observed as she shivered delicately.

‘No. I was just thinking.’

‘Share your thoughts?’

Her wild, erotic thoughts? Not a chance. She might be gauche and inexperienced, but there was nothing wrong with her imagination. She collected herself with difficulty as the ground rushed up to meet them. ‘I was thinking about an article I read in the newspaper.’ Out of time sequence, but she was almost telling the truth. ‘It mentioned the price paid for a car’s licence plate …’

‘Tell me more,’ he prompted.

‘It fetched three million dollars. That’s a lot of money. I just wondered if that was the usual result for an auction in A’ Qaban?’

Something sparked in his eyes. ‘It can be … with the right auctioneer. Why do you ask?’

There was definitely something more; something Raffa wasn’t telling her. ‘I’m just curious,’ Casey admitted. Curious, and wondering how to turn all the cash sloshing around A’Qaban to the good of the country at large. ‘Are we heading straight to a meeting?’ she asked as the lift slowed, thinking it the perfect opportunity to do some digging.

‘We’re going to start with a little more getting to know you time first.’

‘We are?’ Her throat constricted at the thought of Raffa getting to know her better.

‘After I introduce you to my team.’

Ah.

‘So you can relax now,’ he murmured as the glass and steel doors slid open.

How could she do that when he appeared to have perfected the technique of reading her mind?

She slotted in to his team as if she’d been working alongside them for years. They wore Armani, while Casey carried off her
pick of chain-store items with effortless grace. She talked the same language, and added some words of her own. This wasn’t the ruffled woman who had landed in A’Qaban, but a competent, capable executive, whom anyone could see was more than ready to make the next move up the ladder. She was handling this first meeting with much more aplomb than he had anticipated. Had he been guilty so far of judging Casey on her fragile self-image rather than on her business acumen?

He listened intently as she talked his team through her findings at the mall, and watched with interest as she turned in profile to progress her Power Point presentation. The close-fitting trousers she had chosen in the mall hinted at her figure, while the short, red tailored cardigan clung to her slender shoulders, emphasising the femininity she took such pains to disguise. That puzzled him. What was she frightened of?

By the time he brought the meeting to an end an idea had occurred to him. The successful candidate would be someone who could work as easily outside the office as inside; they must get on confidently with people from all walks of life. And, following on from their earlier conversation, Casey’s next test was obvious.

‘W
HY
are we here?’ she said, leaning forward to peer out of the limousine window as they drew up outside one of his warehouses on the dock.

‘To show you some things you have to sell.’

‘I have to sell them? What? Where?’

‘Why don’t you wait and see?’

How pretty she was when she did that smile/frown thing. Waving the driver away, he helped her out of the limousine himself. In fact, he was done with drivers.

‘Could you have my car delivered?’ he asked discreetly, while Casey stood staring up at the outside of the aircraft-hangar-sized warehouse in awe.

‘Certainly, sir. Which car would you like?’

Casey’s words about excess flew into his mind. She could be his conscience for the day, he decided wryly, asking for the Tesla to be delivered dockside.

‘The Tesla? Yes, sir.’

‘Come on,’ he said, turning to Casey. ‘Let’s go inside …’

He took her through a small side door into a yawning space, packed with everything from a stretch Hummer to a side room holding enough cutting-edge carbon technology tack for five teams of polo ponies. There was enough excess inside here to give her a blue fit.

‘What on earth
is
all this?’ she said softly, and he could already hear her mind cogs whirring.

She was probably imagining a store where she would have to put all these things on sale under the same roof, and wondering how on earth she was going to organise it.

‘We’re not finished yet,’ he warned as he led the way down an aisle lined with packing cases stretching high into the silence of the dust-flecked air.

‘What
is
all this?’ she repeated.

Her voice was tense and excited, though she kept her distance as they walked along.

‘You like a challenge, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she said cautiously.

‘Then let’s move on to the inner sanctum.’

There were guards on the door, and a number of pass codes had to be inputted before finally iris recognition allowed him entry. Once they were inside he could see she was surprised by the fact that, compared to the rest of the facility, this was a relatively comfortable and ordinary-looking office. Having shut them inside the hermetically sealed space, he touched a hidden lever, and a safe in the floor began to rise.

‘Any more surprises?’ she asked him when he glanced at her.

They shared a moment, and this time he let his gaze linger. ‘We’ll have to see, won’t we?’ he teased her gently as she looked away. ‘I’m not wholly sure what surprises you yet.’

Now she blushed.

Taking a key fob from his pocket, he approached the safe and keyed in the numbers, changed remotely on the fob every few minutes by satellite signal. He heard her gasp when the door sprang open as if by magic. Withdrawing a small leather suitcase, he suggested she sat down.

‘I’ll bring it over to the table,’ he said, ‘so you can take a proper look. There are things in here it would be better not to drop …’

* * *

Raffa drew up a chair and sat close by without touching her. It was hard to relax, but she
must
relax if she were to concentrate. She inhaled deeply, drawing on his delicious scent and warmth, allowing her eyes one last greedy glimpse of his strong, pirate’s face before putting herself on a strict Raffa-free diet.

She gasped as he showed her the fabulous Fabergé egg. ‘Oh, my …’ Her voice tailed away.

She had sold many things in her time, but nothing to compare with this. The workmanship was breathtaking in its complexity, and so much more beautiful than any photograph would allow. But she didn’t have the know-how required to sell
objets d’art
of this quality, Casey realised, wondering if she was destined to fail this test.

Raffa went on to reveal what amounted to not a king’s ransom in jewels, but a Sheikh’s. Remembering her bemusement at the price paid for one car registration plate, Casey realised she would have to make some serious adjustments to her thinking. And she would have to stop being distracted by Raffa, who right now was handling the various artefacts with reverence and sensitivity. She had never encountered a man with such power and strength and yet such sensibility. No wonder she was distracted—those hands, that concentration …

She must have quivered involuntarily, for he looked up.

‘Are you all right, Casey?’ he asked her softly.

She passed a hand across her brow, pretending concentration on a breathtaking collar of emeralds and diamonds which Raffa had just removed from a velvet case. ‘So, what kind of retail facility did you have in mind for all this?’ she asked him in a voice turned suddenly dry. ‘I should own up right away and tell you I have never sold anything of this value before.’

‘Very few people have,’ he pointed out. ‘But you can sell anything, according to your CV.’

‘That refers to concepts and schemes rather than fabulous objects like this.’

‘Then it’s time to stretch yourself,’ Raffa countered.

How had their heads become so close their faces were almost touching? They were both leaning over the glittering mound of jewels on the table like two children examining a pirate’s hoard; both of them with eyes bright with the light of possibility. Though Casey guessed hers was the only heart trying to beat its way out of a chest.

‘So, what do you think?’ Raffa said as he toyed with the magnificent emerald and diamond necklace.

Everything she shouldn’t, Casey thought, wishing she could concentrate on the only thing that mattered—which was the job she was here to try out for.

‘Casey?’ Raffa prompted.

She snapped her brain onto full alert. ‘I think I should hire experts to advise and assist me,’ she said. ‘But I
will
sell these for you.’

‘Good,’ he said, settling back. ‘Though I think sapphires would suit you better,’ he added, as Casey distractedly toyed with the emerald necklace.

‘You do?’ She made the very serious mistake of looking at him questioningly.

‘Yes, I do,’ he murmured.

She swallowed deep as, having selected a fabulous sapphire necklace from the hoard in front of them, Raffa used one hand to brush her long hair to one side before looping the glinting band of royal blue stones around her neck. She was suddenly acutely conscious of the silence between them, and of her own unsteady breathing. She couldn’t move or break the spell, and though she was wearing her hair neatly tied in a ribbon, and was in every way modestly dressed, her prim exterior bore no relation to the hot thoughts racing through her head.

It was another forceful reminder that having no experience of sex was no guarantee that she would never think about it. Vividly. And, yes, at the most inopportune of moments. Like now … when the warm touch of Raffa’s fingers on her collarbone was making it so hard to remain still, and when the heavy
platinum collar he was placing round her neck felt like a restraining device of a wickedly erotic kind—one that should horrify her, but instead tempted her to sigh and roll her head as the cool metal met her skin.

As if this wasn’t dangerous enough, when Raffa snapped the catch into place her body yearned for him. ‘I’d better not get used to this,’ she said out loud. Coming determinedly to her senses, she reached up, removed the necklace and handed it back to him.

‘It doesn’t hurt to indulge in a little fantasy shopping once in a while.’

‘As long as you don’t confuse fantasy with reality,’ Casey agreed. As she watched Raffa replace the priceless jewels in their nest, Casey murmured, ‘I wonder who they are destined for?’

Raffa’s sharp glance caught her out. For all her brave words about fantasy and reality, she had never been short of imagination.

‘You never know, I might want to keep them,’ she said, laughing to make light of it.

‘Then I’d better lock them away …’

His gaze held hers for a moment. Was it possible to want a man so badly? Or to be so frightened of the consequences of those feelings?

Raffa appeared not to notice these darker thoughts as he replaced the jewels in their velvet case. ‘Sapphires suit you,’ he said. ‘You should remember that. They’re the same colour as your eyes …’