Anna DePalo

Tycoon Takes Revenge


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      He made his plan sound so reasonable—and appealing. Oh-so-appealing. Nevertheless, she had to ask, “What about Sybil?”

      He looked untroubled. “What about her? I’ll call her up and explain our affair was a hoax. Besides, as long as we spread the word that you’re shadowing me in order to write a piece about Whittaker Enterprises, we’ll be dispelling the rumor that we’re involved.”

      The thought of Sybil having the rug pulled out from under her did make his plan more tempting. Kayla bit her lip, then said, “What’s in this for you?”

      “For my part, I’m banking your intern won’t be as interested in my social life as you are.” He gave her a sardonic look. “Besides, since—thanks to you—I’m currently free of models and actresses, there won’t be anything exciting to write about.”

      “Maybe.” She refused to concede he likely was right.

      “On top of that,” he said, warming to his subject, “once you get your assignment to the business desk at the Sentinel, I’m rid of you—at least as a wrecking ball in my social life. And, as an added bonus, I get a balanced news piece about Whittaker Enterprises.” He finished triumphantly, “The plan is perfect.”

      She considered him a moment. “What would be the terms?” she asked, hoping she wouldn’t regret this, yet unable to pass up the opportunity he presented.

      She saw the flare of gratification in his eyes, but he quickly banked it. “Terms?”

      “Yes. I need to know you’ll give me access to information soon and won’t renege on me.” Now that she’d let herself entertain his offer, she wasn’t going to be shy about the particulars.

      He arched a brow. “Suspicious, aren’t you?”

      “There has to be a time limit,” she said firmly.

      “Make your best offer,” he countered.

      She assessed him, then took a moment to ponder. No doubt he was a shrewd bargainer—after all, he’d just engineered the takeover of one of Boston’s leading tech firms by Whittaker Enterprises. “Two weeks.”

      He shook his head. “Six.”

      “Three.” Nearly a month was fair.

      “Five,” he said. “These things take time.”

      “Let’s split the difference,” she countered. “Four. It shouldn’t take long to repair the damage.”

      “A pleasure doing business with you.” He closed the space between them and held out his hand.

      Relief, followed by panic, washed through her. What have I just done? She took his hand, felt her own engulfed in his, and experienced a surge of sensation.

      Judging by the look in his eye, he felt it, too.

      She started to draw away, but he pulled her closer.

      He lifted her chin with his free hand and she had just a moment to lower her eyelids before he brushed her lips with his.

      The kiss was over in the space of a few heartbeats, but its impression—powerful and disturbing—lingered for her.

      He drew back and gazed down at her, his expression inscrutable. “Just checking,” he murmured.

      “What?” She looked at him, eyes wide, as she strove to clear her brain.

      He smiled wryly. “You didn’t need to worry about whether your acting abilities were up to the challenge.” At her displeased expression, he laughed. “I know, I know. I’m diabolical.”

      Kayla was grateful he couldn’t read her mind—for while diabolical should have been the first word that popped into her head, disturbingly, instead, it had been delicious.

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