Sidney Sheldon's Mistress of the Game (29 page)

There were fortunes to be made in African land and property. Prices were tripling every year, but most big American firms were losing out, too nervous about the volatile politics and economy to invest in the region. Meanwhile, local conglomerates like the Olam Group and Africa Israel Investments were making out like bandits. In South Africa, what should have been Kruger-Brent’s heartland, new companies like Endeavour and Gabriel McGregor’s Phoenix were outpacing them, leveraging themselves up to the hilt and audaciously grabbing market share from right under their noses.

Lexi admired Phoenix’s brilliantly simple business model. She made a mental note to copy it, then squeeze Gabriel McGregor out of business at the earliest opportunity.

Jamie McGregor built this firm in Africa. He wasn’t afraid to take a risk. Nor am I.

The week before Christmas, August Sandford asked Lexi to have lunch with him.

“I never see you these days. Real estate is horribly quiet without you.”

Lexi smiled. It was the closest he’d ever come to paying her a compliment. She agreed to lunch the following day.

The concierge at the Harvard Club looked disapprovingly at the group of photographers mobbing Lexi as she emerged from her town car. In a cream cashmere coat from Donna Karan, her famous gray Blackwell eyes covered with oversize Oliver Peoples, she looked every inch the budding tycoon.

“Sorry, John.” Lexi smiled. The concierge melted faster than the snowflakes on the sidewalk. “I’ve been out of town for a few weeks.” She nodded toward the paparazzi. “I’m afraid they’re worse than usual. Has Mr. Sandford arrived yet?”

“Yes, Ms. Templeton. His usual table.”

August watched Lexi as she weaved her way through the other diners toward him. She wore a crisply tailored pantsuit she’d had custom-made in Hong Kong, and looked professional and poised. August thought:
She’s grown up.
Though he’d die rather than let her know it, he’d become genuinely fond of Lexi these past two years. His initial, envy-fueled attraction had been replaced by something worryingly close to friendship. August Sandford had never been friends with a woman before. Perhaps that was why this whole thing felt so awkward?

August was not looking forward to today’s lunch. He had things to tell Lexi that he knew she wouldn’t want to hear. Things that might make him look foolish in her eyes. Or paranoid. Or jealous. Or all three.

Lexi sat down.

“So what’s been going on? What’ve I missed? Did you close the Hammersman deal yet?”

August grinned. He loved the way she cut straight to the chase.

“We did. Yesterday. How was Africa?”

“Interesting. Hot. The food sucked.”

“You missed New York?”

“I missed the office. But don’t tell anyone.”

They ordered food. Lexi could tell August had something on his mind.

“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?” She took a bite of her turkey club sandwich. After two weeks of boerewors and Mrs. Ball’s chutney washed down with rancid rooibos tea, it tasted like manna from heaven.

August bit his lip. “Have you seen Max since you got back?”

“Not yet. Why?”

“It may be nothing.” He paused. “It’s just…some of the things he’s been doing recently. Are you sure he’s given up all hope of the chairmanship?”

Lexi put down her sandwich.

“Of course I’m sure. What’s this about, August?”

“I overheard Max in the men’s room a few weeks ago. He was talking to Tristram Harwood, claiming credit for selling one of the online gambling businesses.”

“Jester. I know. He sold it to KKR.”

“Except he didn’t.” August took a sip of his iced water. “That was never Max’s deal. It was Jim Bruton’s.”

“Was it?”

“Uh-huh. Jim challenged Max about stealing his thunder. Four days later, he was packing up his desk.”

Lexi shrugged. “So? Bruton got canned. What do you care? I thought you hated him.”

“I do. That’s not the point.” August tried a different tack. “Max was supposed to be in Switzerland last month, touring pharmaceuticals. As soon as he heard you’d been sent to Africa, he canceled the trip. He’s been in New York the whole time you were gone, playing golf with Harwood and Logan Marshall. He even invited me to dinner at the Lowell, then on to Cindy’s. I’m telling you, he’s been schmoozing big-time.”

Lexi felt her chest tighten, but not for the reason August Sandford intended. Cindy’s was a strip joint, known for having the most beautiful pole dancers in the city. The thought of Max fondling some seminaked goddess while she was in Africa made her sick with jealousy.

“Did you go? To Cindy’s?”

August ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “No. Lexi, I don’t think you’re hearing me. I think Max is plotting against you behind your back. I think he’s up to something.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Am I? What happened in Italy, Lexi? That time that I was supposed to meet you in Florence.”

“Nothing happened.” Lexi sounded defensive. “You disappeared to Taiwan without bothering to call me. Max was in Italy for some deal or other. We had dinner. Who cares? It was a year ago, for God’s sake.”

“Taiwan was a setup. There was no meeting. Someone called Karen, my assistant, posing as Mr. Li’s secretary. I flew halfway around the world for nothing.”

Lexi laughed.

“And you think it was Max? Come on! It’s a bit
Mission: Impossible
, isn’t it?”

August was silent for a few moments.

“Lexi,” he said at last. “Are you and Max an item?”

The red flush on Lexi’s cheeks was as much from anger as embarrassment.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a simple question. Are you sleeping with him?”

Lexi stood up. “In what alternate universe would that possibly be your business?”

Furious, she turned and stormed out of the restaurant.

Who the hell does August Sandford think he is? My father?

August was about to call after her, then remembered that she wouldn’t be able to hear him. He got up and followed her into the street.

It was still snowing. Grabbing Lexi by the shoulder, August spun her around to face him. Only then did he realize that they were surrounded by snapping photographers. By this time tomorrow, the gossip columns would no doubt be touting him as Lexi Templeton’s new love interest.

“I think you’re in love with Max.” Having come this far, he might as well get it off his chest. “And I think it’s clouding your judgment. He’s using you, Lexi.”

Click click click.

Angrily, Lexi shrugged off his hand.

“If anyone’s judgment is clouded, it’s yours. You’re jealous. You’re jealous because Max and I…”

“What? Max and you what?”

At that moment John, the Harvard Club concierge, scurried out of the club like a groundhog. He forced his way through the knot of paparazzi, carrying Lexi’s coat over his arm. Stepping in front of August, he bundled Lexi into it.

“For heaven’s sake, Ms. Templeton. Leaving without your coat? You’ll freeze.”

“Thank you, John.”

Grimly, Lexi buttoned the cream wool up to the neck. With a last, furious look at August, she climbed into the back of her town car. The driver sped away, spraying the photographers with filthy, traffic-blackened snow.

Lexi stared through the smoked-glass windows, trying to collect her thoughts.

“Back to the office, miss?”

“Not yet, Wilfred. If you wouldn’t mind just driving around for a little bit.”

Damn August and his stupid suspicions! What does he know?
She ran through everything he’d told her again.
Max and Jim Bruton had fallen out over a deal.
So what? It happened all the time.
Max canceled a trip to Europe.
That could have been for any number of reasons.
Max was playing golf with board members.
Hardly a hanging offense. Admittedly the Taiwan thing was weird. But Lexi was sure there must be a perfectly rational explanation.

What she wasn’t sure about was why she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease lurking in the pit of her stomach.

She still felt sick that evening when she got home to her apartment. Normally cooking and watching close-captioned reruns of
Friends
helped her to destress, but tonight nothing was working.

Changing into her pajamas and settling down on the couch with a family-size tub of Phish Food ice cream, Lexi decided to call her brother. Robbie always helped her put things into perspective, and for once he was actually in her time zone, playing a bunch of concerts in Pittsburgh. Thanks to Lexi’s new Geemarc screen phone, a brilliant invention that enabled her to speak normally into the telephone then have the other person’s speech translated into text in front of her, she was gradually starting to escape the tyranny of e-mail. (Kruger-Brent had made a bid for Geemarc last year but lost out to a German rival. The next morning Lexi had her broker buy as much of the acquirer’s stock as he could get hold of. Today those shares were worth three times what she paid and were still rising.)

There was no answer in Robbie’s hotel room. He must have left for the Mellon concert hall already.

Maybe I should call Max directly? Talk to him about this stuff.
But there was no way she could do that without landing August in the shit. As angry as she was with August, the last thing Lexi wanted was to have him and Max getting into some sort of office feud.
They’re the two people at Kruger-Brent I trust the most. I’ll need them both on my side when I become chairman.

A red light flashed on the wall above the TV. Someone was downstairs. Flicking on the video screen by the front door, Lexi saw a male figure, shoulders hunched against the wind. When she saw who it was, she smiled.

He never comes to the apartment. I wonder what he wants at this time of night?

Buzzing him up, she dashed into the bathroom and brushed some bronzer onto her cheeks. Africa had been roasting, but Lexi’s schedule had left her precious little time to tan. Traveling always made her look drained and washed out. In her hurry, she managed to spill bronzing powder all over the bathroom floor. She was still on her hands and knees cleaning up when Max walked in.

“Jesus, what happened in here? A sandstorm?”

Lexi stood up and kissed him on the cheek.

“I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I know. I was on my way home from dinner and I thought I’d stop in. But look, if you’re too tired…”

“No, no. It’s fine.” In a thick cable-knit sweater and jeans, he looked even more handsome than usual. August’s words floated back to Lexi.
I think you’re in love with him.

“Drink?”

“I’ll have a Scotch, thanks.”

She went into the kitchen to fix it for him. A few moments later, she jumped out of her skin. Creeping up behind her, Max slipped two cold hands around her waist. Then, so gently Lexi could barely feel it, he dropped a kiss on the bare skin on the back of her neck.

Okay. Now, that’s a move. Surely that counts as a move?

Or does the neck thing make it brotherly?

Crap.

She turned. Max was looking at her, his predatory eyes wandering over her features, as if seeing them for the first time.

“You had lunch with August Sandford today.”

How did he know that?

“Yes.”

“Did he make a move on you?”

Lexi was so surprised, she burst out laughing.

“Is that a yes?” Max asked angrily.

“No, it’s not a yes! It’s a no. Of course he didn’t make a move. August doesn’t think of me like that.”

“Sure he thinks of you like that. Every man on earth thinks of you like that.”

Max took Lexi’s face in his hands and drew her toward him. Suddenly his lips were pressing hard against her own and his tongue was in her mouth, eager, hungry. Then, just as suddenly, he pulled away. He looked angry.

“I don’t want you having lunch with him again.”

Lexi bridled. “Now wait just a minute. I don’t know where you think you get off telling me who I may or may not have lunch with. But if—”

Another kiss. This time Max’s icy hands slipped under Lexi’s shirt, grabbing hungrily at her breasts. All Lexi’s feminist instincts told her to push him away. But her groin seemed to have missed the Germaine Greer lecture. Instead of showing him curtly to the door, Lexi found herself pulling Max’s sweater over his head and fumbling for the belt buckle on his jeans.

Oh God. What was it August said about clouded judgment?

“I thought you weren’t attracted to me,” she murmured.

“You thought wrong.”

Yanking off Lexi’s pajama bottoms, Max carried her into the bedroom. Clothes from her Africa trip littered the bed, but Max didn’t bother to move them. Throwing her down on top of the mess, he spread her legs, bent his head low, and began to lick her, his tongue darting like an eel into the slippery wetness between her thighs. Lexi moaned. She felt her muscles tense and her back start to arch. Wriggling helplessly, she tried to move his head away.
I mustn’t come too quickly. I mustn’t let him know how long I’ve wanted him.
But it was no use. Lexi seemed to have no control over her body whatsoever. She bucked wildly as waves of pleasure coursed through her.

The instant her orgasm was over, Max pulled off his pants and crawled up the bed so that his face was over hers. Lexi looked into his eyes. She expected to see excitement, arousal, joy. Instead she found herself gazing into two bottomless black pools of…nothing. She felt a momentary stab of fear.

You aren’t Max. You’re a stranger. Who are you?

It was a fear tinged with excitement. Even in the days when she’d convinced herself she hated him, Lexi recognized something wild and animalistic in Max. Something dangerous. It was the part of him she had always secretly wanted to possess, to unleash. Now she was about to unleash it. She could barely breathe.

Max felt her trying to read him, trying to gauge who he really was. He flipped her onto her stomach so she couldn’t see his face. Then he entered her from behind, his huge penis filling her completely, satisfying her at last.