The Billionaire Boss's Forbidden Mistress. Miranda Lee

faces and names often graced the dailies.

      ‘Not all that many people have,’ her father informed her. ‘He keeps a very low media profile.’

      ‘Show me,’ she said, and her father passed across the relevant pages.

      ‘Goodness!’ Leah exclaimed, having expected to see a photo of a man who was at least middle-aged. And a good deal fatter.

      Takeover tycoons were rarely this young. Or this slim.

      Or this handsome.

      Something inside Leah tightened when her eyes met those of Jason Pollack’s. Dark brown, they were. And deeply set, hooded by eyebrows that were as straight and uncompromising as his mouth. His hair was black. And wavy. Brushed neatly back from his high forehead with no part. His nose was straight, with widely flared nostrils, his jawline squared off, with a small dimple in its centre.

      ‘Is this an old photo?’ she asked brusquely.

      ‘Nope,’ her father said. ‘If you read the article, you’ll see he’s only thirty-six. He’s very good looking, isn’t he?’

      ‘I suppose so,’ Leah said. ‘If you like the type.’ Which she obviously did. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

      Yet he was nothing like Carl, who’d been big and blond, a Nordic giant of a man with a raw-boned handsomeness.

      Jason Pollack’s face had a model-like quality, probably because of the perfect symmetry of his finely sculptured features.

      Yet no one would mistake him for a male model. There was an air about him that was unmistakably magnate material. A maturity in his eyes—and an intelligence—that Leah found both attractive and irritating.

      Irritating because she didn’t want to find the new boss of Beville Holdings in any way attractive. She didn’t want to find any man attractive for a long, long time.

      ‘How on earth did he get to be so rich and successful so young?’ she queried sharply. ‘I know he’s not old money. I would have met him before, if he was.’

      ‘Nope. He was an immigrant from Poland, brought over here by his father after his mother died in childbirth. He grew up in the Western suburbs and never even went to university. Started in sales straight out of school.’

      ‘Must have been a very good salesman to acquire so much in such a short time,’ Leah said.

      ‘Seems so. But he also married into money when he was in his late twenties. His wife was his first employer’s widow. Her husband owned the WhizzBiz Electronics chain of shops. Jason Pollack sold himself to his new lady boss within a year of her husband’s demise. She herself died of cancer a couple of years later, leaving her adored young husband everything. Admittedly, by then, he had reversed WhizzBiz’s dwindling sales. After his wife’s death, he sold the whole chain for an enormous price. That’s become Pollack’s trademark. He buys ailing companies, fixes them up, then sells them.

      ‘But only if he thinks fixing is feasible,’ her father continued whilst Leah kept staring at Jason Pollack’s photo. ‘He reveals in that article that on one occasion, after he gained access to the company’s records and employees, he judged that a salvage operation simply wasn’t on. So he cut his losses and dismantled the company altogether, selling off whatever assets were involved.’

      ‘Regardless of the poor employees,’ she scorned.

      ‘I gather he gave each of them more than their entitlements.’

      ‘Which he could well afford,’ she snapped, dragging her eyes away from Jason Pollack to scan the rest of the article. The man had to be worth squillions, his current residence being the top floor of a skyscraper in the middle of Sydney’s city and business district.

      ‘Maybe, but he didn’t have to, Leah. The man has a good reputation for being more than fair. Look, Beville Holdings has not made a profit for two years now. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Whether Beville Holdings is salvageable, or not?’

      Leah frowned. ‘Why do you want to know?’

      ‘I happen to own a nice little parcel of Beville Holdings shares. Bought them two years ago when they were rock bottom. Are they going to increase in value?’

      ‘According to this article they’ve already gone up a lot.’

      ‘Yes, but they’ll go up a lot more in the end if Pollack can work his usual miracle. So tell me, daughter, can your company be turned around, or do you think your new boss will sell it off in pieces?’

      ‘How on earth would I know?’ Leah replied, tossing the paper back over to her father to stop herself from staring at the infernal man any more.

      ‘Come now, Leah, don’t be coy. You’re one of those girls everyone tells everything to. People like to confide in you. I’ve seen it for myself many times. You’ve been at that company for over eight months now. I’ll bet you know exactly what’s going on there. Just because you didn’t put your mind to your studies at school doesn’t mean you didn’t inherit my brains. You’re smart as a whip, when you want to be.’

      ‘I wasn’t too smart when I married Carl.’

      ‘That’s different. Love can make a fool of even the smartest person. Now give me an honest opinion. Is my investment going to grow?’

      Leah thought about all the information she had gleaned at work over the past few months.

      Her father was right. People did like to confide in her. More so now than ever. Since the accident, she’d developed a genuinely compassionate ear, whereas before, her being a good listener had just been a social skill, learned from her mother.

      Leah knew exactly what was wrong with Beville Holdings. The problems were fixable. If the new boss knew where to look, and whose advice to take.

      ‘Beville Holdings has excellent products,’ came her carefully worded reply. ‘But poor management. I think your shares will increase in value.’

      Joachim smiled. Smart girl, his daughter. Smart and beautiful and not cut out to spend her life being a receptionist out in the boondocks. Or for living alone, for that matter.

      Joachim could understand that her husband’s defection had hurt her terribly. But life went on.

      Leah was only twenty-six. Time for her to start dating again. But he couldn’t force the issue. He’d have to be subtle. Maybe he’d surprise her with a dinner party for next Saturday night, invite a few old friends, people he knew she liked. But he’d also slip in someone new, some handsome, highly eligible young man who might impress her.

      But who?

      Joachim couldn’t think of anyone. With a sigh he picked up the paper again and found himself staring down at the photograph of Jason Pollack. Suddenly, a voice whispered to him that he should invite him. Jason Pollack.

      Joachim’s first reaction was hell, no. Not some ambitious bastard who’d married for money. But the voice insisted. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought it was Isabel, whispering to him. Isabel, who hadn’t liked Carl one bit and who’d said Leah needed to marry a different type of man. A stronger, self-made man.

      Isabel had been right about Carl.

      Jason Pollack was a strong man, Joachim told himself. And a self-made man. A man who could probably do with a new wife. A younger one this time who could give him children.

      Joachim still had his doubts, but that soft voice was very persistent.

      All right, he whispered back in his head.

      Don’t tell Leah, the voice added.

      Joachim flicked a quick glance across the table at his daughter.

      ‘What?’ she said.

      ‘Nothing. Nothing.’

      But the die was set. He would invite Pollack to dinner, and he