Page 1 of Pregnant and Stolen by the Tycoon

CHAPTER ONE

‘SENDTHENEXTONEIN, Lily. Please.’

Genie Merchant remembered to tag on the courtesy, despite her brain firing off in a million tangential directions.

Social cues are important.

Her childhood therapist’s words echoed at the back of her head.

Why?she remembered asking.

A wry smile from wise eyes.

They oil the wheels of evolution.

She remembered silently snorting back then. That sound, too, echoed at the back of her mind now. No number of courteous words tagged onto hard facts and sophisticated, ground-breaking coding had been enough to secure her what she wanted.

Instead, it’d only resulted in drawing unwanted attention from men in suits who wanted to steal years of her hard work.

Herlife’swork.

Which was why she was reduced to this...farce.

Why she’d swapped her favourite lounging co-ords and Ugg boots for a cream jumpsuit, uncomfortable heels, and itchy jewellery the online stylist called ‘on trend’. Why she’d exchanged her utilitarian glasses for contacts that made her blink like an electrocuted owl, left the sanctuary of her basement tech lab and home, and travelled up to the twenty-first floor of the building overlooking the east London ribbon of the Thames.

She barely looked up to catch her assistant’s reserved smile as the woman nodded and stepped back out of her office.

Four meetings down, one to go.

Fourvery disappointingmeetings.

She was running out of time. At her last check on the dark web this morning, there were six questionable entities closing in on her, ready to force her hand or take her intellectual property by force, two of them security forces of so-called democracies.

She had a week, maybe ten days, at most.

And if she was successful...

Genie sucked in a long, shaky breath, attempting not to dwell on that thought. But it was no use. With her dream tantalisingly close, it was impossible not to skim past it one more time. Maybe even to linger longingly for a few seconds.

To imagine what it wouldfeellike to—

‘Mr Graham to see you, Miss Merchant.’

Genie schooled her features and posture into the stance she’d wasted precious time perfecting in front of the mirror this morning and turned.

Shoulders back. Steady eye contact. Lips stretched a half-inch on either side but no showing of teeth. Hand outstretched ninety degrees from her body.

‘Mr Graham. Thank you for coming.’

The short, thin man with small, beady eyes looked her up and down. ‘No, thankyoufor making the time to see me. And call me Frank.’ His toothy smile stretched even wider as he blatantly appraised her. ‘Had I known what a vision you were, I would’ve reached out much earlier.’

Her reservations, already severely tested from having to go down this road, hardened into rejection as his sweaty hand grasped hers and subtly tugged her closer.

She resisted and pulled away from him to link her fingers in front of her. ‘I hope my gender isn’t the determining factor of our negotiations?’ she enquired, her cold tone icing between them.

He eyed her in wary surprise, before he laughed. ‘Of course not, Genie. May I call you Genie?’

‘No. Miss Merchant will be quite adequate. Thank you.’

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