Page 191 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

She had done her research. If Tiger McIntyre had been Connor or Jimmy or Tate, he would have faced far stricter penalties and public censure for a whole bunch of things he’d done. Like when he’d failed to divulge the purchase of shares in a rival company within the required legal time limits. It seemed trivial until you realised that the delay saved him millions. Or, to put it another way, it cost the stockholders whose shares he’d bought that same amount.

Time and time again, McIntyre had got his way with regulators and officials through bravado and intimidation, often backed by his numerous supporters who made their allegiance knownen massevia social media.

So how didheget away with it? Pursing her lips, Sydney tipped her head back slightly to gaze up at the ceiling so that the huge glass-walled office belonging to the CEO was no longer in eyeshot.

Easy. He was rich and powerful. He had people at his disposal who could spin the story so that all those boring regulators and boards with their incomprehensible titles were not gatekeepers of fair play but fussy, hair-splitting enemies of progress.

And now she was one of the people at his disposal.

Not that she had ever met Tiger McIntyre in person. That was the one positive. He was out of the office breaking rules in Zurich or London or Beijing and wasn’t due back until after she left.

‘Hi, Sierra.’

She looked up, glad for the distraction. This time it was Hannah. She was holding a tray with a covered plate, a glass and some cutlery wrapped in a napkin.

‘You need to take this to him.’

‘Him?’ Sydney frowned. ‘Who?’

‘The boss, of course.’

The boss! Her stomach went into freefall. Later she would wonder whether it was stress or stupidity that made her question Hannah because obviously there was only one ‘him’. Then again, it was an understandable mistake to make. Surely it was reasonable to expect some fanfare if Tiger McIntyre had arrived in the building?

‘Sierra?’ Now Hannah was frowning. ‘Are you listening? Mr McIntyre is back and he wants you to take him his lunch, so if you wouldn’t mind—’

She held out the tray.

Sydney stared at her, her heart rate picking up like one of her brothers’ souped-up cars. He must know something. A man as important as he wouldn’t ordinarily even notice someone like her. Or was having to lead a double life just making her see threats where there were none? It was hard to say. All she knew for sure was that with every passing hour she was feeling more on edge, like an antelope leaping out of its skin every time it heard a twig snap.

She cleared her throat. ‘Why does he want me to take it in?’ It was one thing working here, quite another to walk into the lion’s den.

‘What?’ Hannah frowned. ‘I don’t know. Maybe he can see how busy the rest of us are? Just put it on his desk.’ She jerked her head towards the towering drinks fridge. ‘And take a bottle of mineral water in too. Still, not sparkling. Get one from the back. He likes it well chilled.’

‘Should I say something to him?’

Hannah looked horrified. ‘No, absolutely not. Oh, and don’t touch anything.’

There was no escape, and during the short walk to Tiger McIntyre’s office her panic intensified, not helped by the glimpse she caught of herself in the glass of his door. She looked flustered and nervous.

Not that it mattered. It wasn’t as if she were here to seduce McIntyre. Wasn’t looking to seduce anyone, period.

Taking a breath, Sydney tapped lightly on the door and pushed it open. At first, she thought the huge office was empty, but then she saw him. He was standing at the window, reading something on his phone, and as she stared at his back, her breath caught in her throat and she felt a ripple of panic and guilt scuttle down her spine in the same way it did whenever she saw the blue and white flashing lights of a police car glide past her family home.

But why should she feel guilty? Okay, legally what she was doing was dubious but in essence she was righting a wrong. For all his fancy tailoring and handmade shoes, this man was a bigger criminal than her brothers. All she was doing was helping to expose that.

Keeping her eyes focused straight ahead, she walked swiftly across the room. She slid the plate onto his desk, and then, holding her breath, she unscrewed the bottle and poured out a glass of water.

‘We haven’t met, have we?’

It was a simple enough question, but Sydney felt the back of her neck prickle at the sound of the deep, masculine voice, and she turned sharply towards its owner.

For a moment, all she could do was stare. Her heart beat in her throat and her skin seemed suddenly too tight and hot, because Tiger McIntyre was no longer just a photo on her laptop, he was here in the flesh, all six feet three inches of him.

‘No, we haven’t. I only started two days ago.’ She watched mutely as he began to walk towards her.

‘What’s your name?’ he said, pocketing his phone.

‘Sierra,’ she said quickly. ‘Sierra Jones.’

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