.

way was anathema to him. He’d heard his parents’ stories about their poor upbringings, how their own parents and siblings had suffered terribly when there hadn’t been the means to put food on the table or to have adequate heat and light, and how many nights they had gone to bed hungry... From a tender age he’d intuited how essential it was to have money, and as he’d grown older, having discovered that he had a talent for making it with ease, he wasn’t about to relinquish it—not for anyone.

      Pleased that he’d come up with a plan to help him win the beautiful old property—a plan he was convinced would work because he never, never entertained the possibility of failure—Gene got to his feet, straightened his tie and strode out through the door.

      Stopping at the desk of his blonde, statuesque secretary, Simone, whose cousin was an up-and-coming Parisian designer—and frankly that was why he’d given her the job...because it always paid to utilise his assets—he flashed her a warmer smile than usual and said, ‘Forget the coffee, ma chère, and book me a table for dinner at my club for eight o’clock.’

      ‘Will you be taking a guest with you, Mr Bonnaire?’

      ‘No, Simone. Not tonight.’

      ‘Then I will ring the maître d’ straight away and arrange for you to have your favourite table.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘You are most welcome. It always makes me glad when I can do something to please you and make your life a little easier.’

      The woman’s glossy pink lips curved in a smile that was definitely inviting.

      Gene’s fleetingly good mood instantly vanished. Scowling, he said, ‘In that case you won’t mind doing some overtime tonight, will you? I’ve left a “to do” list on my desk for you. Goodnight, Simone. I will see you in the morning.’

      He was more irritated than usual with the blonde’s obsequious manner. She hadn’t been working for him for very long, but he didn’t need to be a genius to know that she was only too aware of how to use her best assets...especially as she clearly thought it was only a matter of time before he would bed her... Just yesterday he had overheard her stating the fact, not very discreetly, to someone on her mobile.

      Waiting impatiently for the elevator to arrive, he muttered savagely beneath his breath, ‘God save me from predatory women!’