She blinked. Yesterday’s edition of the Wall Street Journal had reported that he was returning to Shanghai to oversee several sweeping projects in the burgeoning Chinese market that could be very lucrative for Global Strategies. Although DDE was a profitable subsidiary, it was still only one of many midsized ones, not something that should consume much of his attention.
He shifted slightly in his seat, looking at her intently, and his legs brushed hers. She held her breath.
“Do you have any plans tonight?” he said.
She shook her head automatically.
Since her latest breakup six months ago, she’d devoted all her attention to work. Work didn’t disillusion her like Marcus had. She still couldn’t believe he’d proposed to another woman less than a month after they’d split up.
“Excellent.” A charming smile appeared on Alex’s lips. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”
She shot him a sharp look. She didn’t indulge in interoffice dating, no matter how delicious the man in the question was. It was the stupidest CLM—career limiting move—she could think of.
“I’d like to talk more about DDE, but my calendar’s full at the moment. We can discuss it over dinner. I hate to make you extend your workday, but unfortunately that’s the only time I’m available.”
Despite his smooth tone, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was amused by her silent response. Was he laughing at her for thinking he might have romantic interests in her?
She straightened. “It won’t be a problem.” I hope you won’t be a problem.
“Eleanor—my assistant—will send you an email this afternoon. How’s seven for you?”
“Fine.” She rose and shook his hand briskly, purposefully maintaining eye contact even as she felt her hand almost completely engulfed by his much larger and stronger one. Then she gathered her things and left.
* * *
Alex watched Natalie walk out. When the door had closed behind her, he inhaled deeply. A subtle floral scent lingered in the room. It was quite lovely. His investigators’ report on her hadn’t included any pictures, and a composed young Asian woman with a sleek chignon wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Not at all the type who usually graced Charlie Rodale’s arm.
The black skirt suit had flattered her lithe figure, although she’d done her best to appear serious and aggressive—a corporate Amazon look he found distasteful in general but singularly sexy on her. And those stilettos had done amazing things to her legs. Long, shapely, and deliciously erotic. A legman’s fantasy come to life.
A woman who wore shoes like those had a streak of sensuality in her. He pictured her briefly in the shoes and a pair of thigh-highs and felt himself stir.
Alex shook his head sharply and walked back behind his desk. Now was not the time to indulge in fantasy. He’d been upset when Ralph hadn’t been able to follow simple instructions… Did Natalie have something to do with Ralph’s incompetence? She was, after all, the adopted daughter of Brian Hall, a powerful senator with a lot of connections and one of the reasons why it was proving so difficult to take over Rodale International. Or ruin it outright.
And Natalie was Emily Rodale’s goddaughter.
His hands tightened at the thought of the woman he’d hated for so long, the one responsible for destroying his family and ultimately killing his father. Now Emily Rodale had family of her own—a son—and a company that allowed her an undeservedly wealthy lifestyle.
He wondered briefly if there was something going on between Brian and Emily. It would be just like that bitch to sell herself to a powerful protector.
But none of that mattered anymore. All the pieces were lined up. His position was fully developed, his strategy superior. After years of preparation and maneuvering, he was ready for the endgame.
He would take everything away from Emily Rodale. Everything.
And he would start with Natalie.
Chapter Two
NATALIE STEPPED OUT of her car in front of an upscale steak house near the Ritz Carlton. A valet took her key, and she hurried inside with her purse and laptop bag. It was three after seven, and she hated being late. Time was money. Although DDE was more relaxed than Goldreich Stanley, old habits died hard.
A smiling maître d’ greeted her. She gave him Alex’s name, and he nodded and led her through a dark mahogany walkway. There were little nicks in the wood here and there, each of them a testament to the restaurant’s long history. Caricatures of de Gaulle and Churchill looked down at her from the yellowed wall above the wooden panels. Ceiling fans stirred the air, sending the smoky aroma of perfectly charred meat her way and making her mouth water.
Alex was at a small table for two. He rose at the sight of her, and she paused at t
he unexpected courtesy. She couldn’t decide if he was just old-fashioned about certain things or if it had been a calculated move. Something about him suggested he never did anything without a reason.
“Sorry I’m late,” Natalie said, sitting down.
When Alex settled across from her, she realized how intimate the situation was. His knees brushed against hers under the white tablecloth, sensitizing her skin and making her acutely aware of the proximity of his body. She shifted, sitting at an angle and crossing her legs to avoid touching him.