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‘Have you ever experienced that before, Alice?’
‘Experienced what?’ she asked in a hoarse whisper.
Gabriel laughed under his breath. ‘The grip of passion that makes you behave irrationally …’
‘I prefer to trust reasoning and logic,’ she managed to say.
‘So that's a no …’
‘If you recall …’ She was close to snapping, because not only was he making her feel uncomfortable but he was enjoying himself. ‘I did say to you when I took this job that I didn't want to talk about my private life!’
‘Was that what we were doing? Talking about your private life?’
He stood up, flexed his muscles, debated whether to let this conversation go and just as quickly decided not to.
Why deny it? She roused his curiosity. She was so contained, so secretive whilst giving the impression of being straightforward, so unwilling to share even the smallest of confidences … When you could have anything you wanted—including access to people's thoughts and emotions—what would you pay to have a person who withheld everything?
SEVEN SEXY SINS
The true taste of temptation!
From greed to gluttony, lust to envy, these fabulous stories explore what seven sexy sins mean in the twenty-first century!
Whether pride goes before a fall, or wrath leads to a passion that consumes entirely, one thing is certain: the road to true love has never been more enticing!
To Sin with the Tycoon
Cathy Williams
CATHY WILLIAMS is originally from Trinidad, but has lived in England for a number of years. She currently has a house in Warwickshire, which she shares with her three daughters, Charlotte, Olivia and Emma, and their pet cat, Salem. She adores writing romantic fiction, and would love one of her girls to become a writer—although at the moment she is happy enough if they do their homework and agree not to bicker with one another!
MILLS & BOON
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To my beautiful daughters for all their support
Contents
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
EXTRACT
ALICE MORGAN WAS growing more annoyed by the second. It was ten-thirty. She had now been sitting in this office for an hour and a half and no one could tell her whether she would be sitting there, tapping her foot and looking at her watch, for another hour and a half, two hours, three hours or for the rest of the day.
In fact, she seemed to have been forgotten. Mr Big played by his own rules, she had been told. He came and went as he pleased. He did as he wanted. He was unpredictable, a law unto himself. All this had been relayed to her by a simpering, pocket-sized blonde Barbie doll as she had been ushered into her office to find that her new boss was nowhere to be found.
‘Perhaps he has a diary?’ Alice had suggested. ‘Maybe he had a breakfast meeting and forgot that I would be coming at nine. If you could check, then at least I would know how long I can expect to be kept waiting.’
But, no. Mr Big didn’t run his life according to diaries. Apparently he didn’t need to because he was so clever that he could remember everything without the benefit of reminders. Besides, no one was allowed into his office when he was absent—although the Barbie doll had worked for him for four days a few months ago and knew for a fact that he didn’t use any diaries. Because he was brilliant and didn’t need them.
The Barbie doll had since peered into the office twice, smiled apologetically and repeated what she had previously said—as though lateness and discourtesy were winning selling points that the entire staff happily accepted and so, therefore, should she.
Mouth tight, Alice looked around her, from her smaller office through the dividing glass partition into Gabriel Cabrera’s much bigger, much more impressive one.
When she had been told where she would be temping, Alice had been thrilled. The offices were situated in the most stunning building in the city. The Shard was a testimony to architectural brilliance with magnificent views over London. People paid to go up it. The bars and restaurants there were booked up weeks in advance.
And now she would be working there. True, her contract was only for six weeks, but she had been told that there was a chance of being made permanent if she did well. He had a reputation for hiring and firing, the woman at the agency had added, but Alice was good at what she did. Better than good. By the time she’d arrived at the building at precisely eight-forty-five that morning, she had made up her mind that she would do her damnedest to secure a permanent position there.
Her last job had been pleasant and reasonably well paid, but the surroundings had been mediocre and the chances of advancement non-existent. This job, should she manage to get it, promised a career