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Falling For The Enemy
By Shawna Delacorte Harlequin Enterprises
Copyright © 2002 Harlequin Enterprises
All right reserved. ISBN: 0373764553
Chapter One
"Paige Bradford? I'm Bryce Lexington." Bryce rose from his chair and held out his hand as she entered his office.
Even though he had seen her photograph in her personnel file, this incredibly beautiful woman was not what he had anticipated. Her firm handshake showed confidence. She appeared composed and at ease. Everything about her was a surprise and he instantly liked everything he saw. An unexpected tightness constricted his chest when their hands touched. He took a deep breath in an attempt to break the sensation. This unmistakable physical attraction toward her was both ill-timed and unacceptable considering the circumstances.
According to Joe Thompkins, his corporate head of security, Paige had been surreptitiously prying into Bryce's personal life for the past six months and two weeks ago had procured a job at his corporate headquarters in Santa Monica, California. Now she stood in his office on the other side of his desk looking as desirable as any woman he had ever met. What was her game? What was she after? Again, a quick rush of excitement darted through his body. He shoved it away and focused on the business at hand. He indicated a chair for her, then sat down behind his desk.
Paige settled into the chair he had indicated. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Lexington."
She had seen hundreds of pictures of him and read every word she could find that had been written about him - magazines, newspapers, and even the Internet. None of it had prepared her for a face-to-face meeting with this dynamic man. Paige had accepted his handshake, then quickly withdrawn her hand from his grasp. An intimate warmth had traveled up her arm and spread through her body, leaving her momentarily unsure about her chosen course of action.
She clenched her jaw and rallied her determination. She would not allow his good looks and some errant twinge of unwanted desire to divert her from the all-important task she had set for herself. She would see to it that Bryce Lexington was held accountable for his actions. That the world would know he was nothing more than an unprincipled shark who was responsible for her father's suicide.
"Your personnel file shows that you possess the educational background, skill level, and computer experience necessary for the position as my administrative assistant. Our corporate policy is to promote from within whenever possible. Since you agreed to come in for the interview, I'll take that to mean you're interested in the position."
"Yes, Mr. Lexington. I feel that -"
"Call me Bryce."
"All right ... Bryce. I'm extremely interested in the position and would consider it an honor to work as your administrative assistant. I have long admired your dedication to charity and your hard work in that regard." She smiled, doing her best to project as much sincerity as she could muster and thankful that she hadn't choked on the audacious lies.
"Do you have a current passport?"
"Yes."
Without warning, he rose from his chair and moved to the office door. "That's it, Bradford."
His abrupt action startled her. "That's what?"
"End of the interview. The job is yours effective immediately." He glanced at his watch. "You have three hours to pack. We're going to London and we'll be gone for five days. Meet me at the company hangar at the airport. Get the directions from Eileen." He opened the door and stepped aside, indicating that she was dismissed.
"I ... uh, I appreciate this opportunity -"
"I have another meeting, Bradford. Eileen will provide you with what you need."
"Yes ... thank you." She hurried out of the office, a little uncertain about exactly what had just happened. The office door closed behind her. She was momentarily irritated with his brusque manner, which had almost bordered on rude.
"Amazing, isn't he?" A female voice cut into Paige's thoughts. She turned toward the sound, then glanced at the closed office door once more before giving her full attention to the woman approaching her.
"I have to admit that was the oddest interview I've ever had ... and certainly the shortest."
The woman extended her hand and a warm smile. "We haven't met officially. I'm Eileen Draper, the office manager."
Eileen handed Paige a sheet of paper containing the information about the location of the company jet. It also contained all pertinent names, addresses, phone numbers, and fax numbers of key personnel. Paige noted in amazement that her name had already been added to the list.
"You'll be staying at the corporate flat in London. The address and phone number are listed." Eileen glanced toward Bryce's closed office door, then lowered her voice. "In case you haven't guessed, he's a true workaholic in every sense of the word, but he doesn't expect any more from others than he's willing to give himself. Right now he's in the middle of several very big deals, so things are more hectic than usual. Just keep calm and try not to let him muddle your head with too many things at once. And most importantly, don't be afraid to stand up to him if he starts driving you crazy. Underneath he's really a very caring and considerate man, straightforward and honest."
Eileen offered Paige a confident smile. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."
Paige headed for the elevator, her thoughts not as positive as Eileen's words had been. Straightforward and honest ... hmmph! That'll be the day. She took the elevator to the first floor and exited the building. She paused on the sidewalk and glanced up toward the third-floor window of Bryce's office. Pretty soon everyone will know the real truth about you, Bryce Lexington, and your underhanded business tactics. She continued toward her car.
Bryce watched from his office window as Paige walked down the sidewalk. As soon as she was out of sight he picked up the phone and called Joe Thompkins. A minute later his security chief arrived in his office. Bryce settled into his chair, leaned back and propped his feet up on his desk. He listened intently as the forty-two-year-old ruggedly handsome man opened a file folder and gave him a quick rundown.
"Paige Bradford, maiden name Franklin. Thirty-two years old. Daughter of Stanley Franklin, founder of Franklin Industries. Mother deceased. Following a divorce one year ago from Jerry Bradford, Paige moved from St. Louis back to her father's house in Los Angeles. She's the one who discovered his body after he shot himself. That was six months ago. It was shortly after that when she began tracking down information about you."
Bryce took the folder from Joe and looked over the contents as he slowly shook his head. "If she hadn't tried to pass herself off as a writer doing an in-depth biography of me, then called one of my business associates, Herb Fenwick, to set up an interview with him we probably wouldn't have known about her activities. Fortunately, Herb called me after she'd contacted him."
Bryce scanned the folder again. "I'm not sure what type of person I was expecting, but she certainly wasn't it. I wonder what she wants with me. It can't have anything to do with my purchase of Franklin Industries. Surely she knows about her father, what he did and why the deal went down that way."
"The real kicker was her procuring a job right here in corporate headquarters with access to your entire computer network. You have a copy of her personnel record, don't you?"
"Yes." Bryce reached in a desk drawer and withdrew another file folder. He looked through the pages, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary on the photograph that did not do her justice. It did not show her beautiful smile or her sparkling hazel eyes. He let out a sigh of exasperation. "I suppose the sensible thing to do would have been to just ask her what she was up to. There could be a perfectly logical reason for her running around prying into my life and business."
Excerpted from Falling For The Enemy by Shawna Delacorte Copyright © 2002 by Harlequin Enterprises
Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
