Tempted by Her Billionaire Boss(10)

"Is something wrong?"

"Aristov is stuck in Brussels. He wants to discuss the deal at a gala party he's throwing in Highgate tonight."

Her eyes widened. She wisely held her counsel. He turned back to the  windows to study the city he'd flown thousands of miles to reach only to  be slapped in the face by Leonid Aristov. He could fly back to the  States tonight and be done with it, or he could make one more attempt to  try and figure out what was going on in Aristov's complicated head.

The thought that regulators would be looking at the deal in weeks had him turning around.

"Go buy yourself a dress. We have a party to attend."





CHAPTER FIVE

THE MOST EXPENSIVE dress she had ever bought, times ten, floating around  her ankles, hair tamed into a sophisticated up-do by the Chatsfield  salon staff and some simple makeup in place, Frankie finally allowed  herself a look in the mirror. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

The haute-couture-clad, daring stranger that stared back at her was not  the Frankie Masseria she knew. She would never in a million years have  bought this dress if the saleswoman had not insisted it was exactly  right for "Leonid Aristov's party of the year."

"Anyone who is anyone is going to be there, sweetheart. Trust me, you cannot be ordinary."

So here she was, anything but ordinary, and not at all sure she could  carry it off. Ordinary had been her mantra her entire life. Sure, she  had a killer figure; reactions from men had told her that. But she  didn't have her two sisters' striking blue eyes to go with her dark  hair. She was not a doctor, psychologist, chemical engineer or  entrepreneur. She was the girl her mother sent in to calm a particularly  difficult customer when no one else could. She and her nondescript GPA  had been so good at it her parents had urged her to stay in the family  business. But she hadn't wanted to do it. She'd wanted to become a  somebody. And coming to work at Grant Enterprises had made her feel like  a somebody.

She gave her appearance another assessing look. The dress, a stunning,  smoky blue color the salesperson had said perfectly matched her eyes  clung to every inch of her body as though it had been painted on. But  because of the way the beautiful material slipped elusively away from  her skin, it was come-hither rather than tacky.

What had sealed the deal, though, and made her set Harrison's  black-label credit card down on the counter was the back of the dress.  The gorgeous cutout that revealed the graceful sweep of her shoulder  blades and much of her back was sexy yet ladylike.

A knock sounded on the connecting door. Her nerves amped up another  notch or two. Harrison. Tessa had been right. You could have timed the  Swiss train system after him, he was that punctual.

Wary of keeping the beast waiting, she picked up her wrap, draped it  around her shoulders and swung the door open. Her breath stopped  somewhere in her chest. He looked obscenely handsome in a tux that was  undoubtedly as expensively made as her dress, the elegant formal wear a  perfect foil for his clean-edged, dark masculinity.

She looked up at him before her gaping became obvious. But he was too  busy looking at her to notice. His dark gaze seemed to be caught in a  state of suspended animation as it moved over her, taking in the daring  dress. And he didn't remove it right away. The full-on stare went on for  a good three or four seconds, sending a wave of heat through her.  Unlike some men's open admiration that had, in the past, made her feel  uncomfortable, Harrison's stare made her feel unbalanced.

He cleared his throat. "You look...beautiful."

His uncharacteristic struggle for words unleashed a fluttery feeling  deep in her stomach. Stop it, she told herself. He's your boss. Now is  the time to act cool and collected so he knows you can actually do it.

"I hope it's not too much," she offered casually. "The saleslady said it was perfect for tonight."

"It's not too much." He looked as if he was going to say something else, then clamped his mouth shut. "We should go."         

     



 

The ride to Highgate was smooth and quiet as London flashed by the  tinted windows of the Rolls-Royce. Harrison was silent, a frown etched  in his brow, formulating a plan of attack for Leonid Aristov, no doubt.  Her nerves skyrocketed as they entered the exclusive London suburb.  Georgian homes shook hands with fascinating Victorian Gothic structures.  Not to be outdone, a handful of architecturally brilliant modern homes  made their own statement on the tree-lined street.

All impressive, but it was Leonid Aristov's Georgian Revival mansion  that was the most impressive of all. Tucked between a canopy of trees as  they climbed the hill, the redbrick mansion stood white-pillared and  regal on rolling acres. Massive. She'd read it contained fifty-two  rooms, including eighteen bedrooms and ten bathrooms, an  Imperial-inspired ballroom and an underground bath that harked back to  Roman times. As they continued to climb, she stared up at the structure  gleaming with light. She'd never seen anything like it.

When they reached the top of the hill, they turned a corner and accessed  the property from the official entrance off a quiet road cradled in the  branches of giant oak trees. Limousines pulled to a halt in a parade of  arrivals in the circular driveway.

Frankie tugged the low bodice of her dress up and checked her hair for  the tenth time as they waited in the queue. Harrison shot her a quelling  glance. "Stop fidgeting. You look perfect."

She stuck her hands back in her lap. "I suppose you do this once a week."

A fleeting smile crossed his lips. "Not once a week. Remember-they are people like you."

Her heart did a little flip. He was breathtaking when he smiled. How had  she ever thought Coburn the better-looking brother? Where Coburn was  stunning in a flashy, attention-getting way, Harrison was devastating in  a complex, unforgettable way. He had about fifty layers. She wondered  if anyone ever got to the bottom of them. It made a woman want to try,  that was for sure.

She removed her gaze from him. The only lover she'd had was a year-long  relationship two years ago in college. What did she know about unpeeling  layers? Heavens. She needed to focus on keeping her job, not unraveling  her boss in a very distracting way.

The car slid forward to the pillared entrance. A white-gloved, uniformed  staff member stepped forward to open the door. "Welcome to Gvidon  House."

Harrison stepped out and offered her his hand. She took it and emerged  into the flashing bulbs of paparazzi cameras. He leaned down to her.  "Gvidon House?"

She blinked against the blinding lights and rested her hand on his arm  for balance. "He's a prince from a Russian fairy tale. Apparently Leonid  is a big fan of them."

"Fairy tales?"

She nodded, settling her weight firmly on two feet as she eyed the red carpet. It seemed long and never ending.

Harrison set a hand to the small of her back to guide her toward it. "How do you know that?"

"I did my research."

He gave her a measuring look. "Then you know his current girlfriend is  Juliana Rossellini, who works for one of London's top auction houses."

"Who is fifteen years his junior."

He nodded. "See if you can gain some intelligence about Leonid from her."

She would, but right now she was too consumed by the distracting feeling  of his palm on the bare skin of her back as the handlers indicated they  could start down the carpet. It was big and warm. Comforting yet  disconcerting at the same time.

His fingers increased their pressure on her skin. "Relax. Pretend it's a  walk in the park. You're smelling the flowers...enjoying yourself."

The park didn't have fifty cameras stuck in her face. The park hadn't  just realized it was Harrison on the carpet, causing an unexpected buzz.  They called his name as they moved forward. Frankie stuck the fakest  smile of her life on her lips and held it.

"What if they connect us in the photo?"

His mouth quirked. "It wouldn't do my reputation any harm having a  stunning brunette on my arm. I've apparently been going through a dry  spell."

A stunning brunette. A flush she was certain would show up in the  photographs deepened her cheeks. She was quite sure she didn't compare  to any of his beautiful escorts. She'd seen them. They were way out of  her league.

"Does it bother you?" she asked. "Being in a constant media spotlight?"

He shrugged. "It's been my life. You get used to it."

They made it down the carpet without incident to the entrance where a  queue was forming. People were removing their wraps, shoes... "Metal  detector," one of the greeters explained.         

     



 

A metal detector?

Frankie looked around for something to hold on to while she took off her  shoes. Harrison held out his elbow. "Why is it always the women's  shoes?" she complained.

His mouth curled. "Because they are weapons. With you, they could be a dangerous thing."