Fool's Desire Read online

  Seating herself opposite him, Desirae couldn't help but notice the way his eyes fixated on her legs as the knee length skirt crept up her thighs, and she tugged at a hemline that had never bothered her in the past. Damn the man for making her feel like this.

  Shaking herself, Desirae got straight down to business. "Your CV is quite impressive, Mr. Oliver."

  "Yes, indeedy," the man replied arrogantly, still not taking his eyes off her legs.

  Desirae pursed her lips in irritation. "In fact, if anything, you seem somewhat overqualified for this post."

  "I'm just happy to help old J.W. out." She found the way Eric casually dropped her CEO's initials to be inappropriately over familiar as his eyes finally crept up but didn't make it past her chest, and Desirae felt her temper rising.

  "But would you be satisfied in a position that leaves your credentials so underutilised, never mind that the pay grade for this position is quite a way below what you're used to?"

  In fact, according to Charlotte's memo, Eric was a complete slacker who routinely forced his subordinates to bear responsibilities way beyond their proficiency and then abandoned them to shoulder the blame when things inevitably went wrong.

  "I'm sure Johnny boy and I can come to some agreement over the pay." Eric slouched backwards with his arms over the back of the office sofa and crossed his legs at the ankles nonchalantly, as if he'd just popped in to shoot the breeze. "And I'll probably be a godsend to Universal, especially when a woman of your age holds the CFO position…whose biological clock must be ticking," he finished smugly, finally raising his eyes to her face.

  Desirae bristled, her eyes shooting daggers and her façade stony. "I can assure you that that scenario is highly unlikely," she said icily as she rose from her seat to conclude this farce of an interview. Throughout the entire meeting, Eric had evaded questions about his involvement in his father's company, avoided enquiries about the true level of his responsibilities and blatantly found a scapegoat for a couple of serious instances that she brought up where the buck clearly should have stopped with him. The man obviously had no respect for women who held positions of authority, like herself, and had spent so much time mentally undressing her that Desirae didn't think she had ever felt so blatantly objectified, even during those times she'd spent bound and naked at Club Risqué! Thankfully, he hadn't appeared to have recognised her. For that, at least, she was eternally grateful.

  Eric just smirked, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he sauntered to the door behind her. Desirae turned and held the door open for him to leave, only to find him ogling her backside and rubbing at his semi hard cock through the fabric.

  Fighting the urge to gag, she called for Laurel to see him out with a breath of relief.

  "I look forward to working with you." Eric saluted her cleavage cockily with two fingers before turning and focussing his attention on Laurel's rear.

  "Over my dead body!" Desirae couldn't help muttering under her breath as she stormed back into her office and closed the door with as much of a resounding thud as the soft seal hinges could achieve.

  She was still fuming, twenty minutes later, as she collected her belongings, ready to leave. With her long, wool coat on and her handbag over her shoulder, she was about to shred the documents she had obtained from Charlotte when John Williams, himself, came in unannounced, followed by a tall, well-built man in his early to mid-thirties.

  "Desirae, I'd like you to meet Connor Griffin." The vast, bear of a man stepped forward, and as he engulfed her palm in a firm handshake, she took in his sharply cut, sandy hair and expensive suit and wondered if this was Laurel's 'huge hunk of eye candy'.

  John didn't offer any further insight on the good-looking visitor before peering myopically down the corridor. "Is Eric Oliver still in the building?" he asked. "If he's still about, why don't you ask him when he can start? We need that position filling asap."

  Desirae stilled and looked steadily at her CEO. He wasn't exactly her boss. Their positions within the firm were close to equal, but it had always been quietly accepted that his was the last word, and when it came to board room disputes, his was the casting vote.

  "I'm not planning on offering him the job," she said carefully, schooling her features into a neutral mask. "In fact, I've already instructed Laurel to draw up contracts for one of the other candidates. I believe Luanna Morgan has already accepted the position."

  "Are you sure you haven't had a lapse in judgement there, Desirae?" the older man blustered, and Desirae instinctively clenched her jaw and straightened her spine at that abhorrent suggestion which had ice snaking through her veins even while fire sparked in her eyes.

  "Eric is without question the perfect candidate for the job. I golf with his father, so I can personally vouch for his credentials. I insist that you reconsider!"

  Desirae's stomach plummeted and heat prickled at the back of her neck as her simmering fury came close to erupting at having her judgement questioned, in front of an outsider, no less. It had been a long, shitty day. She had already put in several twelve-hour days this week; she was already trying to avoid second guessing herself and stressing too hard about the Blackwood takeover and all its emotional implications, and she wasn't accustomed to having her decisions all but overruled. Gritting her teeth so hard she was surprised she didn't crack a molar, Desirae took a controlled breath while her manner became positively glacial. She hadn't risen to the height of her career by being a wallflower, and as much as she respected John Williams and his wealth of experience, she would never be cowed into making catastrophic amendments on somebody else's whim. Not even the CEO's.

  "If you feel strongly enough that you need to overrule my judgement, John, then feel free to go ahead and offer Mr. Oliver my position while you're at it, because I'm afraid that I take exception to working with a man who couldn't even keep his eyes above my neckline for the duration of a forty-minute interview."

  Desirae's arctic expression gave no quarter and her usually well-modulated voice was clipped and stilted. "Before you make that decision, however, I suggest you read Mr. Oliver's background check. Be sure to pay special attention to the fact that your 'perfect candidate' installed his mistress as his PA in his father's business and permitted her free access to very important information that allowed her to embezzle such a vast amount that the company hit the verge of bankruptcy and only saved face from imminent bankruptcy by appealing to another 'family friend', namely Joseph Blackwood, for a buyout." John's eyes were wide and his face had drained of colour and Desirae couldn't help the tiny, uncharacteristic stab of satisfaction that accompanied his dawning horror.

  "Add to that a marriage with no pre-nup, which cost him dearly, followed by a second failed marriage which, while covered by a pre-nup, had produced several children so that the courts ruled a substantial maintenance allowance, since the breakdown was due to the afore mentioned mistress, and you will find that Mr. Oliver has managed to squander almost his entire personal wealth by making catastrophic financial decisions in his personal life, as well as his father's business."

  Desirae slapped the sheaf of papers she had printed from Charlotte's email into John's hand, then turned to pick up her briefcase. "It's a pity your 'golfing buddy' didn't see fit to warn you that his son's not even capable of balancing his checking account, far less a corporation!" Desirae couldn't keep the derision out of her voice as she made to leave.

  "Oh, and one other thing," she swung back as an afterthought. "I happen to know that Joel and Jake Blackwood shared a house with Eric Oliver while they were at University together. While I would have expected them to send someone with rather more competence, I really wouldn't rule out that Eric Oliver might very well be on their payroll. As you have just attested, the jolly old boys network has deep roots and the timing is rather more than questionable," she contended frostily. "Breaking us down from the inside would make their takeover very much easier…and who knows, maybe someone with less morals than a crooked politician in a crack house i
s exactly the kind man you need for that type of deception," she spat contemptuously.

  In fact, that scenario had only just occurred to her, but the more she thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. She shook her head, unwilling to spend any more time on the matter. She felt vilified by John's lack of faith, and on the heels of her confrontation with Eric and the painful memories of Joel that he and the takeover announcement had stirred, it had bought old insecurities to the surface. Right now, she was so done with it all that she couldn't muster the enthusiasm for any further dispute. She'd walk away if she had to, rather than put her dignity on the line ever again.

  "I'll see you on Monday, unless you let me know otherwise," she challenged, ignoring the fish impression the CEO was imitating with his silently open and closing mouth.

  With a last glance and a polite nod to Connor Griffin, who appeared to be struggling to keep a straight face, she turned on her heel and left. Desirae wondered briefly if he was laughing at her outburst, but she really couldn't be bothered to worry about it. There was a very large glass of wine with her name on it screaming to her, and right now, all she was interested in was claiming it.

  Chapter 2

  Joel Blackwood stalked through the comfortable lounge area at Club Risqué, oblivious to the many admiring glances he garnered with his leanly muscled physique and brooding good looks. His attention centred solely on Connor Griffin, who followed swiftly on his heels as they threaded their way through the heaving Saturday night crowd towards the bar.

  "My father wants her!" Joel confided as he signalled one of the bartenders. Connor cocked a questioning eyebrow and Joel chuckled. "Not in the biblical sense."

  Connor hadn't really thought as much, but they were in the middle of a sex club. An uncompromising, unrestrained, BDSM sex club, at that, for all its trappings of wealth and luxury. In an environment like this, there was usually only one way for a comment like that to be taken, and the age gap between a thirty-year-old woman and a fifty-eight-year-old man sure wouldn't be seen as an issue in this place where it was a case of pretty much anything goes. Not that Joseph Blackwood was a member, of course, but Connor was pretty sure that he was aware of his son's and some of the other board members' proclivities. The man hadn't risen to where he was today by being oblivious to that which surrounded him.

  "He's tried headhunting Desirae Harper several times over the last couple of years, but she's not having any of it. Sometimes, I think that's his real motivation behind this takeover bid." Joel tipped the glass he'd been served towards Connor before taking a sip.

  "Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to just to gain an employee, and I don't think he'll get her by painting her into a corner," Connor surmised, swirling the amber liquid in his own tumbler.

  "I guess we both know it's not just about that." Joel clapped his friend on the shoulder. "It's a sound proposition. We'll get to trade off of their humanitarian reputation, we'll establish ourselves more firmly in the East, and our overall position in the marketplace would become unassailable."

  Connor nodded. "I'm pretty sure they'll fight us all the way, though. The mood was pretty hostile while I was over there, and I didn't even get the chance to sound out Ms. Harper and she's the one who'll be handling everything."

  He huffed out a breath as they made their way over to the quieter members only area from which guests were excluded. "I hope your dad's prepared for disappointment. I get the feeling Joseph has seriously underestimated them. They're a major corporation, just like Blackwood, and they're big enough to challenge the position indefinitely. They might have a benevolent reputation, but they certainly aren't pushovers!"

  "Dad sees this as the final part of the jigsaw, and once she's in place and Universal Holdings is in the bag, he's decided he can embrace full retirement. This is his end game."

  Joseph Blackwood had been semi-retired for several years, sharing an unusual but oddly successful joint CEO position with Joel while the balance of power and responsibility gradually shifted from father to son.

  "So, what's she like?" Joel asked Connor as they settled themselves in a couple of comfortable armchairs in the luxurious seating area. He wasn't too proud to admit he was curious about the business woman his father was so fixated with.

  Connor chuckled and shook his head "Woman's an enigma," he replied.

  Joel raised a questioning eyebrow as Connor leaned back and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

  "She's a looker, that's for sure. Thirty-years-old, so younger than any of us expected. Dynamite body, petite and curvy…single…" He gave his friend a sidelong glance, aware that was Joel's favoured type, but his friend didn't rise to the bait. "But she's severe with it," he continued after a beat. "No nonsense, strictly business. Aloof. Doesn't fraternise with the staff." Connor rasped his palm along his stubbled jaw as he contemplated. "Hard to read…you wouldn't want to risk playing poker with her. Got a bit of a rep as an 'ice queen' and she's certainly not a soft touch."

  Joel looked over and quirked an eyebrow. "Ice queen? Isn't that a bit cliché?"

  "What can I say…if the shoe fits." Connor shrugged. "I only managed to turn up one dude whom she'd had a relationship with. And I use the word relationship in the very loosest of terms. Apparently, he claimed she was completely frigid. Told the guy I sent to dig around that when he fucked her, she was like a mannequin. Didn't move, stayed completely silent…she probably didn't come." Connor added his own interpretation, "Although he didn't admit that much."

  Joel huffed out a laugh, momentarily mystified by why a man wouldn't want a girl who was still and quiet, his personal dream. But then, most Doms didn't share that particular idiosyncrasy, never mind your average Joe.

  "More likely, the idiot is just crap in bed and doesn't know how to pleasure a woman!" He shook his head to shake off his musings and looked out across the club at the men and women in various states of undress, tuning in to the sounds of sex. Leather slapping flesh, screams of delight…and erotic pain. No one knew better than them how diverse the sexual appetite could be.

  "You said, yourself, that she wasn't a pushover…not the type to be coerced, so then, if she was there, she must have wanted something from him. Sounds like she wasn't getting it!"

  "I don't know." Connor took a sip of his drink. "I reckon she'd be a hard nut to crack…and I don't just mean in the bedroom! You'll have your work cut out for you with this takeover plan; I can guarantee it."

  Joel just grinned. "Good job I love a challenge, then."

  "You should have seen her rip John Williams a new one when he as good as told her that she should hire Eric Oliver as her financial manager. She wasn't having any of it, CEO or not!" Connor chuckled.

  Joel scowled at the mention of his old housemate's name. "She's obviously got exceptional judgement, at least. No one in their right mind would hire that prick!"

  Connor nodded. "Yeah, but his exploits aren't exactly common knowledge. Williams would have hired him if it was up to him. Even demanded that Harper reconsider when she told him the job had been offered to someone else. Of course, Eric managed to burn his bridges with her, despite the info she dug up on him. She said he didn't look above her neckline for the entire interview."

  "Good old Eric, still treating women like objects. He never did have any respect…don't suppose he ever will!"

  "She was ready to throw in her job if the CEO overruled her, and I don't think she was bluffing." Connor continued. "And I'll tell you what else she knew." He paused in consideration. "She knew that you and Eric used to share digs at Uni. She suggested to John that Eric might be a corporate spy for Blackwood's, ready to take Universal down from the inside."

  Joel choked on the last of his drink and slammed the glass down on a side table. "Jeez, she thinks that little of us?" he wheezed.

  "Well, she did comment that she expected us to send someone with a little more competence, if that makes you feel any better."

  Joel took a deep breath and cleared his throat a
s he recovered himself. "So, she knew that Eric and I used to house share, but she doesn't know that we haven't been on speaking terms for over ten years. Interesting."

  "Maybe she just doesn't trust that information. She knew that Blackwood bought the Olivers out on the strength of his father's friendship with yours, and she wasn't very impressed with the machinations of the 'old boys' network', as she called it."

  "Maybe I ought to go down there myself and throw a few more flies in the ointment, so to speak." Joel deliberated as he checked his watch then attached a fluorescent Dungeon Monitor armband over his black silk shirt and rose to his feet. "Sounds like more fun than I've had in ages!"

  "And whose fault is that? You're on duty again tonight?" It was really more of a statement than a question, but Joel nodded anyway.

  "You're pulling a lot of those lately," Connor commented. "We short staffed?" The two of them had bought out Club Risqué three years ago, along with Jake Blackwood and Logan Thornton, but each of them was only as involved as they wanted to be, and while they all chipped in where necessary, the day to day running and management of the club was down to their staff.

  "Nah," Joel denied. "I volunteered."

  "Again," Connor stated, looking pointedly at his friend.

  "Again," Joel agreed, refusing to be drawn in as he turned on his heel and headed towards the play areas.

  Joel sighed, dragged his fingers through his black hair, and weaved his way through the busy lounge towards the stairs leading to the private rooms to fulfil his DM duties as he contemplated Connor's words.

  Was Joel himself to blame for his current sense of dissatisfaction? It wasn't that he worked too hard. Sure, he put in extra hours at Blackwood when the situation merited it, but he had a great team around him and he wasn't afraid to delegate. That was just another lesson that he had learned from his dad. Joseph Blackwood had mourned the death of his wife, mostly because his ridiculous workload had cut into what turned out to be an abbreviated lifespan after his mother had died unexpectedly, six years ago, at the age of fifty. His father had always believed there would be plenty of time for them to spend together after his retirement, but their time had run out.