Seduced At Sea. Andrea Laurence

      What he had wanted was to get laid and get back to work, not sit down to a three course luncheon. Now, however, after forty minutes of polite chitchat about nothing more interesting than hairstyles and movie shoots, his libido had hit rock bottom.

      Thank you, Danny boy.

      ‘Leo, I swear, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you hadn’t listened to a word I’ve said.’

      So not entirely without a brain then. That was something at least. A month ago they’d met at a party and she’d been texting on and off with innocent little invitations for Leo to attend this and that ever since. Well, ‘this and that’ was nigh and he couldn’t have been less interested in taking things further if he was standing next to her wax look-alike at Madame Tussauds. In fact, right now, that would be preferable. Quieter, at least.

      Leo pushed his half-eaten lunch aside and dropped his napkin onto his plate.

      ‘Tiffany, it’s been enthralling, but I have to go. Finish up. Have dessert—’ he hesitated as he glanced at her emaciated figure ‘—or not.’ He pushed back his chair and paused when he saw her overly plump bottom lip quiver; which may have been a trick of the light because a moment later her composure was flawless.

      ‘Just like that?’ She waved her hand insouciantly, her actor’s face firmly in place. ‘And to think people said you were dynamic. Fascinating. Exciting’

      Leo’s eyes narrowed. ‘We’re in the wrong place for me to show you exciting, dorogusha, and now I’m all out of time.’

      And interest.

      ‘They also said you were heartless.’ That last was delivered without even a hint of bitterness and his eyes narrowed on the challenging tilt of her head, his senses homing in on the purr in her voice.

      So that was it. He was a challenge to her. A mountain she wanted to conquer. He could understand that even though he wasn’t a man driven by challenges. He’d learned early on that rising to a challenge usually led to mistakes, pain. Leo didn’t do that. He wanted something; he got it. No challenge required.

      And Tiffany Tait had definitely overplayed her hand with that comment. Smarter women than her had tried to get their hooks into him without success. He was considered the consummate commitment-phobe and it was a reputation he had carefully cultivated for years.

      He stood and buttoned his single-breasted suit jacket. ‘They are right. I am without a heart and no woman will ever change that. Something to remember next time you want to play games.’

      With that he walked out. Leaving her and the Cartier bracelet Danny had kindly procured for her as a birthday gift at the last minute. No doubt Leo would hear about his unchivalrous behaviour in some gossip rag at some stage. Not that he cared. Today he’d been looking for a few moments of oblivion to push aside the memory of five of his men being buried alive in an accident on one of his construction sites, and the agony of lifting mountains of cement and steel alongside rescue crews all week to get to them.

      They’d reached two in time; the other three were gone. Just like his uncle seventeen years earlier.

      Leo’s mouth pulled tight as he wound his way through the ‘beautiful people’ who cast covert glances from behind their crystal glasses.

      Usually he loved his life. Proclaimed the richest man in Russia, with enough super toys to fill any action flick, a surfeit of women clamouring to warm his bed and a business he loved—he was understandably riding high. Today he’d almost welcome being back at the end of his father’s belt than return to work.

      And really he shouldn’t have been rude to Tiffany Tait. It wasn’t her fault she bored him. He chose that type of woman for a reason—physical gratification and lack of emotional connection. If he was getting bored with eye candy he’d just have to get over himself.

      Thirty minutes later and feeling marginally better now that the restaurant ordeal was over he stalked through his outer office and told his new secretary to get Danny—immediately.

      Still nervous of him, she cleared her throat before speaking. ‘He’s already waiting for you, Mr Aleksandrov.’

      ‘Leo,’ he corrected her, pushing open his office door and striding inside.

      ‘If you ever send me to a poncy restaurant again instead of a private suite when I tell you I want to get laid I’ll fire you.’

      ‘It’s her birthday,’ Danny replied smoothly.

      Leo dropped into his leather-and-chrome chair and surveyed the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated on his desk in his absence.

      ‘I don’t care if it’s her last day on earth. We both would have had a better time in a bed. Send her another something from somewhere, would you?’ He picked up a stock market report and scowled. Bloody volatile fear-driven markets. When would people learn not to react to every flicker of the sun’s rays as if it was about to go out?

      ‘You were rude, then?’

      Leo didn’t look up. ‘It’s possible.’

      He heard Danny sigh. ‘I was about to call you back anyway. You have bigger problems to contend with right now.’

      Leo went still at his EA’s ominous tone. Bohze, not another site problem.

      He didn’t ask, just waited for Danny to continue. But instead of saying anything, Danny handed him a pink sheet of paper with tiny coloured flowers dotted along the top.

      Leo read the brief message and his foul mood plummeted.

      ‘You’re not serious?’

      ‘It seems so. I haven’t been able to reach her by phone.’

      ‘Have you had Security try to track her down?’

      ‘They’re on it but no luck so far. She says she’s heading to Spain.’

      ‘I can read.’

      A heavy silence fell between them and Leo scanned the note once again to make sure he hadn’t been mistaken.

      Then he leaned back in his chair and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his muscles bunch but not release. He crumpled the pink paper in his fist and lobbed it across the room. ‘How many hours do we have?’

      ‘Two. The childcare centre closes at five.’

      Leo swore under his breath and jerked to his feet.

      ‘It’s only for the long weekend. She’ll be back on Monday,’ Danny added, highlighting the only positive in the message.

      Leo stared out of his office window and watched the London Eye do a lazy circuit in the glittering summer sunshine. The wharf was a hive of teeming tourists probably spending more money than they had and he’d gladly hand over half of his vast fortune to any one of them if they could solve his current problem.

      Four years ago he’d met a young model at Brussels Airport when all flights had been grounded due to inclement weather. Leo hadn’t even thought twice about it. Beautiful, more-than-willing woman, long night. It made sense.

      Her wanting to get pregnant to a rich stranger still didn’t. The woman in question had been on the hunt for a rich husband instead of a rich career and had deliberately used a tampered condom. Three months later she’d come to him and told him the ‘good’ news.

      She’d been hoping for a ring. What she’d got was a house and a monthly allowance once paternity had been confirmed.

      Leo wasn’t father material. He had blood running through his veins he had never intended to pass on. The fact that this model—Amanda Weston—had duped him had made him crazy. After the fog had cleared and logic had returned he’d done the honourable thing. He’d covered all her financial expenses and made her promise to keep the boy as far away from him as possible. He might have inadvertently given someone life but he wasn’t about to completely stuff it up by