Caught on Camera with the CEO

He clicked on the ‘play’ button and waited a moment for it to load. Turned the speaker up a touch on his computer and frowned at the poor quality of the picture on screen. It was black and white. And then he recognised what that small space was—an elevator. And then someone walked into it. And, as if he was trapped in it again, freefalling, his stomach dropped.

Hell

He leaned closer to the screen as she waited in the lift. Her face was clear in the frame, and now so was his as he stood side on, until he turned and faced her. Their mouths were moving, but the security camera recorded images, not sound. Even so, he knew exactly what was being said. He’d replayed that too brief exchange a million times every sleepless night since.

Alex watched, seeing now what he’d felt so gloriously at the time. His back was to the camera but you could see her face as he kissed her lips, her jaw, her neck. Her eyes were closed. Her hands caressed his shoulders, his hair. Passionate. Beautiful. And then came the moment her legs parted, wrapped around his waist, and his body reacted now as it had then. Instantly hardening, instantly burning, insisting on getting closer.

And then the lift moved. It had been over far too quickly.

Praise for Natalie Anderson:

‘Natalie Anderson is one of the most exciting voices in steamy romantic fiction writing today. Sassy, witty and emotional, her Modern Heat™ are in a class of their own…An extraordinary new talent who can blend passion, drama, humour and emotion in one unforgettable read!’

—Cataromance

‘MISTRESS UNDER CONTRACT is a fantastic contemporary romance full of intense emotions, funny moments, blazing sexual tension and moving romance; don’t miss it!’

—The Pink Heart Society

‘Natalie Anderson’s HIS MISTRESS BY ARRANGEMENT is a charming romance of childhood friends reconnecting. It’s both fun and flirty, and conveys the wonderful feeling of finding someone you can truly be yourself with.’

—RT Book Reviews

This is the first book in Natalie Anderson’s

exciting new duet:

HOT UNDER THE COLLAR.

Don’t miss

UNBUTTONED BY HER MAVERICK BOSS,

out next month!

Possibly the only librarian who got told off herself for talking too much, Natalie Anderson decided writing books might be more fun than shelving them—and, boy, is it that! Especially writing romance—it’s the realisation of a lifetime dream kick-started by many an afternoon spent devouring Grandma’s Mills & Boon®…

She lives in New Zealand, with her husband and four gorgeous-but-exhausting children. Swing by her website any time—she’d love to hear from you: www.natalie-anderson.com

Recent titles by the same author:

TO LOVE, HONOUR AND DISOBEY

HOT BOSS, BOARDROOM MISTRESS

BETWEEN THE ITALIAN’S SHEETS

PLEASURED IN THE PLAYBOY’S PENTHOUSE

For the best apple pie and chocolate chip biscuit baker in the world: Aunty Margaret.

No one makes ‘em like you do. And no one laughs as infectiously as you either.

Thank you for all your support.

CHAPTER ONE

‘YOU’LL have that for me by three? Fantastic.’

Dani forced her body to freeze at the sound of that voice.

‘No problem.’

Dani knew the breathless assistant would have it for him by two at the latest—just as she would if he’d asked her.

Alex Carlisle, CEO of Carlisle Finance Corporation, on his rounds again—gliding through the open-plan area and bewitching his staff so they performed above and beyond. She wondered if he even knew the effect he had on his legions of adoring employees.

And Dani was the latest. Not looking was impossible. Her lashes lifted.

Truthfully she was probably the only one whose work was suffering because of him. She found him so distracting she wasn’t getting half as much done as she should. Half of her wished he’d go away so her insides wouldn’t be so pummelled, but all of her wanted him to stay.

He was so good to look at, she’d been watching him all week. She’d seen how he abandoned his lavish office suite at the top of the building and came to talk with his worker ants—all of whom then frantically tapped faster at keyboards to get the work done for him. Charismatic, confident, Alex Carlisle got everything he wanted, every time. And if the water-cooler gossip she’d got from one of the secretaries was anything to go by, women were a big part of what he wanted—beautiful, highflying, high-society women. He played a lot, apparently. And all his female employees wished like crazy he’d play with them.

Dani totally understood why they did, but she wasn’t going to admit she was floored by him too. So predictable. Anyway she couldn’t afford to fixate like this. She checked the time. Only a few minutes and she could go to lunch. She’d never clock-watched before, usually enjoyed her work so the hours flew, but she had a mission to fulfil. Besides, something about this place made her antsy. OK, it was him. She was waiting, always waiting for him to appear. Now he had, she couldn’t wait to bust a move, so restless it was as if she had creepycrawlies infesting every inch of her clothing.

Unable to resist the compelling force of him, she lifted her head and looked again. She was such an idiot. It was as if she’d been tossed into a stormy kind of teen crush—she’d never experienced one in her youth, but it seemed there was a time for everything. She only had to hear his voice for her heart to thunder and the adrenalin to flood her system, so sitting still was no longer possible.

Concentrate, you fool.

The excitement was a waste of energy anyway. The water-cooler woman had also informed her that, while the man might play fast and loose in his own social set, he never ever fooled around at work. Big shame. She watched as he stood talking with her supervisor. He was tall; his tailored trousers seemed to go on forever.

Yeah, Dani, all the way to the floor.

But her self-mockery didn’t stop her looking. He’d shed his jacket so he wore just the pale blue shirt, sleeves rolled partially up his arms—the ultimate ad for corporate wear. He turned. Caught her look on the full. And then held it prisoner.

Oh. Wow.

All but his face blurred. The low noise of the office became a distant hum. The sudden silence was nice and her antsy body stopped still, bathed in his gaze. Dani’s favourite colour was green. And Alex Carlisle’s eyes were very, very green.

He moved, one small step. Was he coming over? To talk to her?

Someone called his name. He turned away, his smile flashing back on. And it was gone—the stillness, the warmth, the quiet. All disappeared the instant she blinked.

Good grief, what was she doing sitting there like a Muppet? Unable to move or speak or even breathe? She shook her head and released the air held too long in her straining lungs.

Ridiculous.

But how glad was she that he hadn’t come over? Because when he’d looked at her she’d been unable to think of anything. Not a thing. All power had gone from her brain to somewhere else entirely—and was warming her up. She couldn’t see how any of them got any work done when he was on the floor.

OK, so it was two minutes ‘til lunch. But she’d arrived early, as she always did, and had already promised to work late tonight, so she needn’t feel guilty about stepping out now. Because she desperately needed to get outside and gasp in some fresh air.

She walked down the length of the floor to the lift, keeping well to the side of the room. She was short enough not to be noticed and she was only the temp, after all. She moved fast. Usually she took the stairs but he was near the stairs and, as much as she was drawn to him, her instinct told her equally loudly to stay well away. And this instinct was just strong enough to beat the one that made her avoid small, confined spaces. She could do it. Sure she could.

But when she got to the lift and pressed the button, her nerves sharpened. She counted to ten as she waited, trying to slow her breathing to match it with her mental chanting. It was only a lift. People went up and down them millions of times a day without accident. People didn’t get trapped in them.

Trapped. Her scalp prickled as if she were under one of those huge cover-your-whole-head driers at the hairdresser—and it was on too hot and she couldn’t get it off. She didn’t want to be trapped.

She redirected her thoughts. Forced the fear to the back and focused on a plan. If she ate on the run, she’d have time to go to the public library and be able to check the message boards on the Internet. The search was all that mattered.

The lift chimed and she made herself move into it, closing her eyes as the doors slid together. It would be over in a whirl. Such fears were childish.

But there was a noise. She opened her eyes again in time to see the doors sliding back again. An arm was stretching out between them—making them automatically reopen. And stay open.

‘I’ll be back shortly.’ The arm held firm. ‘Email the guest list through to Lorenzo, as well, will you? And make sure the catering staff have the right number of vegetarians this time. We don’t want to upset anyone again. Oh, and can you make sure Cara gets the message about Saturday?’

Jeez, the lift could have been down and back up again in that time—well, almost. At last, the rest of him stepped in.

He smiled at her. ‘Sorry about that.’

Was he really? Or was that just his polite upbringing talking, hiding the real ramifications of his childhood—that he had the right to make others wait, that his time was more important than hers? Dani only had an hour—unpaid and all—and she had to make the most of it. But that thought and every other disappeared as the doors finally slid shut.

Dani stepped right back, standing stiffly against the far wall of the lift. Would the fear never leave her?

He leant his back against the side wall so he was at right angles to her. Not even covertly looking at her. No, his gaze was open, intense and relentless.

She kept her eyes fixed on the doors, trying to stop the sensation that they were closing in on her. At least the lifts in this building were science-fiction fast—once they were allowed to get started. But the sense of airlessness closed in too.

He pressed the button again and finally it began its swift descent.

Dani gritted her teeth, sweat sliding down her back.

‘Are you OK?’

Dani couldn’t answer. Too busy holding her breath. Five, four, three…

There was a groaning sound—a metallic moan that, although slow, was definitely getting louder. Dani’s muscles flexed. The lift stopped, dropped another foot and then stopped again. Dani’s stomach just kept on falling.

She looked at the lights—no floor indicated. The doors half opened and she had a glimpse of metal and concrete. Between floors. She was damn glad when the doors closed again.

There was a second of complete silence.

‘I’m sure it won’t be long.’

‘I’m not worried,’ she lied, flicking a glance his way and looking straight back at the doors again when she registered he had a smile on. His smiles weren’t good for her blood pressure. Nor was being stuck in a very small space. Adrenalin rippled through her muscles but the nausea rose faster. She inhaled through her nose, aware of every inch of her body. Surely those few years of physical training would stand her in good stead. She could overcome fear. She could breathe.

He’d lifted away from the wall. ‘No, really, it won’t be long.’

Sure. No matter how stiff she tried to stay, her limbs insisted on shaking. Her heart was shaking too, the beats falling over themselves, and she couldn’t breathe fast enough. She couldn’t get any oxygen in.

‘We never have trouble with these lifts.’

Oh, yeah? Well, they were now. ‘You probably confused it by making it wait so long with its doors open,’ she said. The spark of anger pushed the bile back down.

‘It’s a machine. Machines don’t get confused. Only people do that.’

She was confused now—her body wanting to run, her brain wanting to shut down altogether, her stomach wanting to hurl its contents.

‘You’re new here,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen you in the office.’

Distraction. Excellent. ‘Yes,’ she said, barely controlling the wobble in her voice. And after another stumbling beat she looked from the doors to him.

His eyes were very wide and very green and filled with a painfully gentle concern. He took a step towards her. ‘My name is—’

‘I know who you are,’ she cut him off. She couldn’t think enough for conversation.

‘You do?’ His eyes narrowed and his smile twisted, bitterness thinning his sensual lips. ‘Then you’re one up on me.’ He took the last step closing the gap between them. ‘I have no idea who I am.’

The bitterness surprised her, blasted the smothering fog from her head. She looked closer at him. ‘You’re Alex. And you’re stuck in a l-lift.’

She glanced at the walls; they were nearing her again. The fear crept back up. She gulped in air. Were they running out of oxygen already? And had she just whimpered?

‘There’s no need to be afraid.’

Wasn’t there? Didn’t she know exactly how frightening it was to be stuck in a small place for too long?

‘Hey.’ He put his hands on her shoulders. ‘It’s going to be fine.’

At his touch she looked back into his face. Green eyes gazed at her, deepened by the dark lashes that framed them. Everything else in the world receded again. Yes, she’d look at him, focus on him, forget everything…but green eyes. The colour swirled, the black centre spread. His gaze flickered, dropped to her mouth. Made her realise it was dry. She touched her tongue to the corner of it and then she found she was looking at his. It was extraordinarily fine, with lips that were currently curved up in a smile.

‘You OK?’

She couldn’t take her eyes off him. She couldn’t answer.

‘Sweetheart?’

Funny how just one word, said in just the right way, could change everything.

She gazed at him, feeling that restlessness inside roar, and her chin lifted.

His hands moved, dropping to circle round her waist.

‘It’s going to be just fine,’ he said. And then slowly, so slowly, giving her all the time to turn away, he lowered his head.

But she didn’t turn.

His lips were warm, firm but not forceful, not invasive, just gentle. He lifted his head a millimetre and his green eyes searched hers. ‘See?’

Still she said nothing, but the smallest of sighs escaped as she lifted her chin back up to him.

Those strong hands at her waist then lifted her right off her feet. Automatically she put out her own hands—not to punch, but to steady. Her fingers connected with cotton and curled around the hard muscles. The heat of him burned through the shirt. She spread her fingers wider—wow, he was broad. All she could hear was her breathing—too short, too fast.

Their gazes remained locked all the while he lifted her, sliding her up against the back wall of the lift until her eyes were almost level with his. Her heart thundered while her toes stretched down, vainly searching for something solid—like the floor.

This time when he kissed her he stayed, his lips moving over hers slowly teasing. Oh. Her eyes closed as again and again his mouth caressed hers, making her brain go so mushy. And then Dani had to move: softening, opening, relaxing yet seeking at the same time—more. And he gave it, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and curling with hers. It was like feeling all her favourite things at once—the heat of a summer’s day, the freshness of sea breeze and the sensation of diving into the deepest warm water. Only it was better. It was all-in-one. And it was real.

Her hands slid over his arms, her fingertips exploring his strength and heat, the breadth of his back. She lifted a hand, ran it through his hair. Short, dark, gorgeously thick. She moved, resting her palm on the back of his neck—so warm. Both hands lifted to hold his face close and the kisses changed again—deeper, more hungry, fevered. Now every inch of her wanted every inch of him hard up against her. She wanted to feel his body above her, beneath her—all around. But she couldn’t tear her mouth from his. She didn’t care about the tightness of his hands bruising her waist. She just didn’t want the soaring feeling to end. It was as if a veil had been lifted to reveal a bottomless need she hadn’t known she had. To be close.

And his need, too, seemed as strong. His kisses on her face and neck were fast, passionate, until their lips connected again and they could plumb the depths of each other in a long, long carnal kiss.

He pulled her away from the wall, close against his body. One hand quickly moving beneath her bottom to take her weight so she didn’t fall from his hold. She responded automatically, hooking her legs around his waist. Gasping at how good it felt to have his body between hers. He was big, strong and fantastically hard. Basic instinct screamed at her now. Bursting with need for bare skin, she pressed her mouth harder against his, her fingers fighting with his shirt.

But then she felt him stagger. He pushed her, lifting her away and down until her feet hit the ground. But then the ground itself bumped up and down.

Oh, no, that was right. They were in a lift. Dani tore her gaze away from him. Looked beyond to the lights, to the door. The lift had finally moved again, descended. And now those doors were opening.

‘I—’

He didn’t get a chance to say whatever it was he was going to say. There were people—bankers, a couple of technicians. All chorusing his name.

‘Alex!’

Dani knew when to make the most of an opportunity. Her legs might be short but she could move them quickly. And, breathless though she was, she had a huge hit of adrenalin to see her through. Energy was an inferno inside her roaring for release. Her high heels clipped on the polished floor. As she exited through the big glass door she glanced back. He was still caught talking to the group. Frowning this time, no smile. And he glanced up frequently, tracking her, she knew. Sparkling light tumbled from his eyes towards her. She walked faster. Pulled her mobile from the bag that miraculously was still slung over her shoulder. She’d phone the agency. Find another job. Snogging the boss was so not allowed. But it wasn’t her flouting of that convention that made her move so fast. It was the fear of that bottomless need he’d uncovered. And the truth that she was desperately trying to ignore: it hadn’t been a snog, it had been heaven.

Alex lifted the cup and sipped—yick. He might be sprawled in a big chair in the first-class club but the coffee was still thin, airport dross. He glanced at his laptop on the table beside him. The screen saver had been dancing for a good twenty minutes now—hiding the report he should have finished already. But focus had been impossible when distraction had such curves. He should be working. And if he wasn’t working he should be worrying about Patrick’s bombshell last week and the horrendous ramifications of those test results. He should be dealing with it.

Instead he was indulging in a wicked fantasy and debating how he was going to turn it into reality. There simply had to be more—wrong though it was. But those minutes in the elevator with that petite temp had been magic, and not anywhere near enough. Since when did he start kissing random women in elevators? Especially an employee? Just because she’d been nervous?

Well, it had seemed like a good way of distracting her at the time. And himself. But that irresistible distraction had turned searingly, mind-blowingly incredible—how was he going to ensure he got more?

His mobile chimed. Lorenzo. Alex answered promptly. ‘Hey.’

‘Where are you?’

‘Sydney Airport.’

‘Man, you’re hardly ever home these days.’

Alex sighed. ‘I know. Just waiting for the flight back.’

He’d arranged this business trip after Patrick had called out of the blue. After years of only occasional correspondence, he’d rung to tell him the ‘truth’—thirty years too late. At first Alex hadn’t believed him, had insisted on the tests. It had only taken twenty-four hours. After seeing it in black-and-white he’d had to get away. He could have done the deal with conference calls, but he’d used it to avoid everyone for a few days. But now the job was done and he was aching to get back to Auckland. He had unfinished business to tend to and it wasn’t the paternity nightmare.

‘There’s something you’ve got to see.’

Alex sat up, registering the thread of tension in Lorenzo’s usually dry-humoured tones. Instinctively he pressed the phone closer to his ear to catch the nuances better. ‘What is it?’

‘You need to see it. I’ve sent you the link. You should have it now.’

He reached out and tapped a couple of buttons on the laptop, Lorenzo’s email opened up and he grimaced—a YouTube video. ‘Its not some stupid joke, is it?’

‘I don’t think so.’ For once Lorenzo actually sounded unsure.

‘Not porn?’ He might be the boss, but the ‘inappropriate use of office computers’ clause applied to him too.

‘Uh, well, I don’t think so.’ There was a laugh now. ‘Just watch it, Alex.’

He read the title ‘Get Stuck, Get Snogged—is this the hottest kiss ever?’ and groaned. ‘Lorenzo, it is porn.’

‘Just watch it.’

He clicked on the play button and waited a moment for it to load. Turned the speaker up a touch on his computer and frowned at the poor quality of the picture on screen. It was black-and-white. And then he recognised what that small space was—an elevator. And then someone walked into it. And as if he was were trapped in it again, freefalling, his stomach dropped.

Hell.

That awful music hadn’t been playing. Muzak didn’t play in the lifts at all; no point when they whisked you up and down the many stories so fast—or at least they did if they weren’t faulty and hadn’t stopped between floors.

When that had happened, five days ago, it had been silent, save her breathing, which—despite her efforts to control it—had spiked. So whoever had lifted this footage had added a cheesy soundtrack—rich, melted chocolate, ‘in the mood’ kind of music. It didn’t fit.

He leant closer to the screen as she waited in the lift. Her face was clear in the frame, and now so was his as he stood side on, until he turned and faced her. She didn’t look nervous in this, but up close she’d been shaking like a leaf. Their mouths were moving, but the security camera recorded images, not sound. Even so, he knew exactly what was being said. He’d replayed that too-brief exchange a million times every sleepless night since.

And he knew her face too well. He’d been prowling the floor more than usual just to get a glimpse after spotting her in the open-plan office on Monday. Her glossy black bob with the too-long fringe had caught his eye, and then her oh-so-professional man-style shirts hinted at the most luscious curves.The last thing he should be doing was chasing skirt—walking through the office a zillion times a day on the lamest of excuses. But while waiting on those blood results he’d been only too happy to be distracted. For five minutes he hadn’t wanted to think at all. So he hadn’t. And the moment he’d touched her, all remaining rational thought had fled. Her shape was more wicked than he’d suspected—slim, soft, devastatingly curvaceous. It hadn’t taken much effort at all to lift her against the back wall of the elevator, raising her high enough so her eyes were almost level with his. Beautiful big brown eyes burnished with a caramel gold—and filled with a challenge he’d been utterly unable to resist. He’d been thinking about what she’d feel like in his arms—dreaming of her curves spilling into his hands. Damn it, he was still dreaming of that.