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“Yes,” Dominic confirmed, banging his fist on the beautiful, wooden inlaid dashboard in front of him. “Where did she go?”


“She just swung out of here in a Ford Escort, boss.”


Alvin knew the brown envelope contained cash—it wasn’t the first time the man had conveyed money to Dominic from his butler. Dominic knew that the driver would immediately jump to the wrong conclusion, but there was no time to explain. He ordered, “Follow her!”


Alvin immediately gunned the engine.


“Faster!” Dominic ordered.


“She raced out of here, boss.” The driver obediently accelerated, but he shook his head ruefully. “I don’t think we’ll catch her.”


“We have to.”


“Yes, boss.”


Dominic fumed as they raced along the quiet road. He would have been faster in his Lamborghini, even if it meant breaking the speed limit. Damn his wayward cock! He usually had more finesse than he had displayed tonight. But the thought of her writhing under him, those long legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself deep within her had destroyed his customary style.


They came to a major intersection and Alvin said apologetically, “Sorry, boss, I think she’s gone.”


Dominic cursed again, this time aloud. He’d envisioned the night ending somewhat differently—with the two of them making love in the back of the limousine and several times more when he got her to his place. Now, all he could do is go home and imagine it was her tightness, instead of his hand, wrapped around him as he jerked himself off. There were a dozen or more women he could call and all would be willing for him to come over and warm their bed, but no other women would do tonight.


***


Chantelle reached under her pillow and ran her fingertips over the edges of the envelopes that would radically change her life.


Nothing in the way the night had begun had prepared her for the way it had ended. When she noticed the man and had had the strange reaction as their eyes had connected, she had dismissed it as one of those strange, freaky moments in life.


Dancing for him had been as easy as breathing. She might have done it for free, as Tiffany had declared earlier in the evening. She had good uses for every last penny of the money he’d paid her. Yet, she had been tempted to toss it back in his face when he had propositioned her like a common whore.


How dare he!


***


Chapter Three


Five months later.


Dominic and the other two panel members all smiled politely as his PA, Angela Daniels, ushered in a statuesque beauty, the last of the five people they had shortlisted for interviews.


The young black woman, Chantelle Payne, was their wildcard. A recent university graduate, she was by far the youngest and the least experienced of the candidates. But she had achieved a First in Architecture, Planning and Landscape, and was tipped to beat the rest of the year’s graduates to the prestigious Institute of Architecture’s Most-Promising Designer Award.


Dominic’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. For a moment the young woman reminded him of the dancer from Armstrong’s with her height and smooth dark skin. This woman was different, though. Instead of short straightened hair, this woman had tiny plaits which were pulled neatly back into a chignon. And she appeared warmly approachable—not coolly aloof as the dancer had been.


Forget that damn woman! he reprimanded himself angrily. You’ve wasted enough time, money and effort chasing her!


He could do nothing about heated memories of the dancer invading his dreams, but he would be damned if he let her control his waking moments, too!


“Chantelle, let me introduce the panel. Lauren Everton, Head of Acquisitions, Mark Albright, Chief Architect and Dominic O’Brien, CEO and—”


The woman’s eyes widened moments before her gasp of surprise interrupted Angela’s words.


Dominic stared at her in shock for several long moments unable to believe what his eyes and the stirring in his groin were telling him—this was too surreal. His mother always told him that he had more luck than anyone she knew, even with his Irish ancestry. She just might be on to something, he decided, as he felt his smile turn predatory. He had searched high and low for this woman, had spent tens of thousands of pounds on the best private investigators he could find to no avail, and now she had flown like a helpless fly into his web.


She wouldn’t escape this time!


“Would you all excuse us for a minute?” He dismissed the others. “Ms Payne and I need to have a brief discussion.”


“I knew this was too bloody good to be true!” Chantelle’s eyes sparked like ebony chips as she glared angrily across at him as the door clicked shut behind his PA and the other two interviewers. “Did you set up this interview just to embarrass me?”


“No,” he denied. “I didn’t know it was you. Armstrong couldn’t tell me your name.”


Colin had warned Chantelle that Dominic had gone back to the club to question him. She had been so relieved at the time that Colin, though he might have not divulged the information, didn’t know anything about her.


“I spent months looking for you and couldn’t find you.” Dominic couldn’t help the bitterness that tinged his voice—he wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted. “I hired six private investigators, all ex-Scotland Yard, and they couldn’t find you.”


Dominic immediately wanted to take back the words. She would think he’d either wanted the money back or had been desperate to sleep with her. Neither impression made him look good, although the latter was true. And even more so now that he’d seen her in the daylight and realized that she was even more beautiful than the club’s dim lighting had suggested.


His words hung in the air as they stared at each other for a moment.


“So, what now?” she asked, finally breaking eye contact.


“Do you still want this job?” he asked.


“Yes. But am I going to be judged fairly?” she responded, cynicism coating her voice.


“Yes,” he promised. “I will withdraw from the panel and ask the others to interview you.”


Chantelle knew that she probably wouldn’t give the world’s best interview, but she wanted this job badly enough to at least try. Foolishly she had begun to imagine the things she would be able to do for her siblings with the salary offered. She would never forgive herself for not giving it a shot.


“Okay,” she agreed. And it would be easier if he wasn’t in the room to distract her with his sexier-than-she’d-remembered presence.


“Payne…” his lips twisted in derision, “so appropriate for the amount you’ve caused me.”


“I caused you pain?” Startled, Chantelle stared at him.


“You have no idea.” Dominic gave a lopsided smile and headed to the door. “Relax for a couple of minutes. I’ll have a word with the other panel members and then send them back in.”


Lauren and Mark were both seated in the comfortable chairs when Dominic walked into the waiting area. Lauren, the consummate professional looked cool and unflustered; Mark, on the other hand, made no attempt to contain his curiosity.


“What was that about, Dom,” he demanded.


“Ms Payne and I have met before briefly.” He didn’t elaborate. “It wouldn’t be fair if I sat on the panel, so I’d like just the two of you to interview her. I trust your judgment and expect you to give her a fair assessment.”


***


Don’t get your hopes up, girlfriend! Chantelle warned herself as she sat across from Lauren in the nearby Bea’s of Bloomsbury. She took a sip of her creamy cappuccino, trying hard not to smile like an idiot. The interview had gone perfectly. Feeling that she had nothing to lose, Chantelle had been relaxed and confident.


“O’Brien is the best employer I’ve ever worked for.” Lauren took a delicate, appreciative sip of her cappuccino. Chantelle suspected that the woman didn’t frequent the café on a regular basis. The decadent Chocolate Fudge Cupcake they had each ordered would have had a visible effect on the woman’s svelte figure. “I’m the only female among fifteen senior managers and I haven’t once experienced any overt sexism in the four years I’ve been with them. Don’t get me wrong—there are two, possibly three of them who don’t like the idea of a woman being so prominently placed in the company, but Mr. O’Brien, Dominic’s father made it perfectly clear that sort of behavior won’t be tolerated.”


Dominic. Chantelle repeated his name to herself for the ninth time since they had been introduced. She should have known that he wouldn’t be called something as simple as ‘Paul’ or ‘John.


“You would enjoy working for the firm,” Lauren continued. “There are enough new challenges to keep the job interesting but not so many that you feel overwhelmed.”

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