But he’d known tragedy. His mother’s death from cancer, followed three months later by his father’s fatal heart attack not long after he’d turned eighteen, had devastated him. He’d been as close to them as a son and his parents could be. Being an only child, he’d inherited the lot, become a multimillionaire while still in his teens. Using that inheritance, he’d quickly established himself as a party animal, then just as quickly established himself as a maverick businessman. Within five years he’d turned those millions into billions.
The sound of approaching footsteps brought Helena up short from her reverie and she blinked herself back into focus, pushed her glasses up her nose and poised herself over her paperwork.
Theo, huge mug of black coffee in his hand, stepped into Helena’s office. It took a few moments for her to acknowledge his presence but one look at the colour on her face and the tucking of hair behind both ears proved how flustered his appearance made her.
‘How are you getting on?’ he asked, closing the door behind him.
Cheeks flaming, she somehow managed to find yet more hair to tuck. ‘Fine. I have more things to discuss if you have five minutes.’ Her words came out in a rush.
‘Of course.’ He propped himself on her desk beside her, making sure not to sit close enough for complaint but close enough to disturb her equilibrium a little. This was a balancing act he’d been playing all week to great success.
She reached forward for her notepad, her blouse loosening a touch around the top of her breasts. His vantage point gave him the briefest glimpse of creamy cleavage but it was as tantalising as if she’d left the blouse undone.
Speaking briskly, she said, ‘The first thing I wanted to discuss is the location of the outdoor swimming pool. My advice would be to change it.’
Theo forced his attention away from her breasts. Helena made some excellent points about privacy from passing boats and yachts that hadn’t occurred to him and resulted in them settling on the pool’s location elsewhere, followed by a brief discussion about the location of the summer house—also to be designed by Helena—that was to be built close by. Theo loved to host parties and his pool and summer house and all the space in between would be the perfect party location. The grounds surrounding the house would all flow from the swimming pool and he admired the fact that she’d picked up on that and understood what he wanted to create. Their late-night talks when they’d dreamed up their perfect house had only been about the interior. It took much effort not to mention sunbathing naked, just to have the pleasure of watching her squirm, but, after their first site visit, he’d decided to change tactics. If Helena wanted him to keep a cool, professional distance in working hours then that was what he’d give her.
Her initial perplexity when he failed to deliver any double entendres, even when a subject was crying out for it, or when he restrained himself from making any salacious comment whatsoever had amused him greatly. Every evening, without fail, he politely asked if she would like to sail away with him for some fun. He never spelt out what that fun would entail—Helena’s imagination was perfectly capable of dreaming that up itself—which meant he got the pleasure of watching her cheeks flush and her eyes pulse as she fought her own longing to say yes.
Did she realise that every time she spoke to him, she tilted towards him? Did she realise that she fidgeted her way through every conversation? Was she aware that her breath hitched whenever he walked past her? Was she aware that at that very moment her hands trembled?
‘The next thing I wanted to discuss is the kitchen,’ she said, moving the conversation on.
‘What about it?’ he asked lightly.
She tugged at the sheets of paper he’d placed his backside on. ‘You’re sitting on my notes.’
‘My apologies.’ Sliding smoothly off the desk, he went and sat on the chair on the other side of her desk. ‘Is this better?’ But she didn’t respond. Her eyes were on his, wide and stark, her fidgety body suddenly frozen. ‘Helena?’
She blinked at the mention of her name and quickly looked down at her freed notes.
‘Yes. The kitchen.’ Despite Helena’s best efforts, her voice sounded all wrong.
It had been hard enough to breathe with Theo propped on her desk beside her—when he’d first perched himself there she’d feared her heart would explode out of her chest—but when he’d moved off she’d had to fist her hands to stop them from grabbing hold of him. Now he was sitting opposite her and she’d caught a sudden glimpse of his golden chest beneath the collar of his polo shirt, and in the breath of a moment her insides had turned to mush.
It shouldn’t be like this, she thought despairingly. She’d spent three months under Theo’s intoxicating spell, riding the rollercoaster of her life. He’d had the ability to make her forget everything that mattered. Under his spell she’d believed all she needed was Theo in her life to be happy. She was sure her mother had once believed the same thing before she’d sold her soul to a monster. Theo wasn’t a monster like Helena’s father but his power over Helena had been just as strong.
How could she still react so strongly to him? She’d believed the sudden detonation of their relationship had killed her feelings for him but she saw now that she’d been hiding them, hiding them so deep inside that she’d forgotten how powerful they were until one look at him in the Staffords boardroom had seen them poke their heads out from dormancy. Now the old feelings were slapping her in the face, taunting her, and it was getting harder and harder to fight them.
Eyes now determinedly fixed on the papers on her desk, she rubbed the nape of her neck, cleared her throat
