Five-star Seduction (3 page)

Langa turned to head out. Lazola didn't immediately follow.

“Shall we?” she tossed nonchalantly over her shoulder.

The next moment she heard his footsteps behind hers.

* * *

The tour of the spacious banquet chamber turned into an exploration of the entire hotel. Lazola surprised Langa by answering her questions good-naturedly and encouraging her suggestions. She'd heard enough stories about the man being unapproachable to expect stoic resistance every time they met.

Instead, he showed her some of the suites, the conference rooms and both restaurants. He talked to her about the children's care centre and the outdoor activities on offer before leading her to the executive gym.

“So,” he said, watching her as she approached him after a closer inspection of the decadent spa, “pick up anything useful?”

“About the hotel, sure. About you, even more so.”

He blocked her exit, his intrigue evident. “You've learnt something about me?”

Her eyes followed the line of his jaw before rising to meet his. “You have a sharp grasp of business, but that's not the sole reason for your success. The standards you set are as high as your goals are honourable. You garner people's loyalty by dedicating yours to them first. That's the secret behind your success – as far as I can tell.”

“You got that from your walk through the saunas?”

Langa laughed, ignoring how the smile in his brown eyes made her stomach flip. “I got that from our entire morning together, Mr Rhadebe.”

“Have lunch with me. Let me pick that brain and get to know more than the facts and figures you share so fluidly.”

“What could you want to know about me?”

“The fun stuff you're working so hard to keep from me.” One of his cheeks dimpled as he smiled. “You're panicking at the thought, aren't you? I don't think you could share three personal facts about yourself without breaking into a sweat.”

Langa chewed on her bottom lip. She knew he was baiting her but couldn't bring herself to back down. “Well, you're wrong.”

“Am I?”

“One, I was born in the Eastern Cape but have spent most of my life in Gauteng. Two, I like cheese and I like tomatoes, but never together. And three . . .” she let out a puff of breath, “I acted nonchalant when my older sister, Mpumi, moved to the UK twelve years ago. What the rest of my family doesn't know is I bawled my eyes out for an hour when we got home from the airport. She's one of my favourite people, and I hadn't told her that.”

He touched her hand. “Have you done so since then?”

“I have. Now let's go get that lunch so I can fill you in on my plan to introduce the ROCH to Strides Ahead.”

“The production company?”

“Yes. Their two travel and lifestyle programmes are exactly the quality of television exposure I want for your hotel once the launch is over. And their monthly magazine means we'd get to kill two media birds with one stone.”

“One ROCH, you mean.”

She grinned at his wit.

“I've been told it's nearly impossible to get through to that production house,” he stated.

Langa lifted a challenging eyebrow. “Impossible? I'm not familiar with the word.”

* * *

A month before the launch Langa entered the ROCH for a meeting with Lazola. Before she could request that the front desk notify him of her arrival, she spotted him looking deliciously casual in jeans and a white button-down shirt. She licked her suddenly dry lips as she watched him stride through the waiting area.

To her horror, a lithe young woman flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Lazola smiled indulgently as they talked. The affection and familiarity between them was unmistakable. After a minute he curled an arm around the woman's shoulders and pulled her closer to him as they walked to the lifts.

Langa swallowed down the nausea. Who was she kidding? It wasn't nausea, it was jealousy. She scoffed at her own naïveté. Obviously Lazola Rhadebe would have moved on to his next conquest by now.

Just because she'd been single in the months they'd worked together didn't mean he'd been the same. And him being civil to her the last few times they'd met did not mean something was developing between them.

Her heart jumped when she saw him watching her from inside the lift. He lifted a sardonic brow before obviously dismissing all thoughts of her and turning back to his companion.

So much for “I need to be with you”.

She was tempted to duck out on their meeting after that display, but immediately decided against giving him the pleasure of knowing his personal choices affected her so. Besides, the promising amity they'd formed in their time together made for an easier work environment than the alternative. She would meet him and show him how little she cared about whom he dated.

Twenty minutes later Langa was in his office. Lazola brought his PA along and Langa found herself constantly clenching her jaw to keep from snapping at the haughty woman, who'd raised her brow challengingly at Langa when they were introduced and was uncooperative and abrupt for the next hour.

“I'm happy with the launch preparations,” Lazola stated. “You will be there to address the press?”

Langa nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” He turned to his PA. “Make sure to arrange drivers to fetch Miss Cima and each of her colleagues. And make arrangements for them to be taken home at any time they each choose at the end of the launch.”

Langa was surprised by his thoughtfulness. “Thank you . . . The ogre has a heart after all.”

It was the sharp inhalation from the unshakable PA that alerted her to the inappropriateness of her comment. She hadn't meant to say the words out loud. She flicked large eyes towards Lazola, expecting the worst. He added to her astonishment by smiling slightly at her remark.

“Indeed. I only bite when I'm provoked, Langa.”

Her name on his lips made her tremble. For a moment he regarded her with a heat that reminded her of his searing kisses. She impatiently tucked a few stray wisps of hair into her bun.

“Is that a warning?”

His smile was feral this time. “Absolutely. I plan on snapping you in two before this is over.”

She wasn't sure if by “this” he meant their attraction to each other or the marketing project. She couldn't imagine him jeopardising a business venture in order to prove a point, though, so that left the personal issue. Who the hell was he to be threatening her when he had proven himself to be nothing but unfaithful and promiscuous?

She leaned forward and met his molten scrutiny. “Back off, Lazola.”

Another gasp from Miss Perfect PA.

But Langa continued. “I'm here to deliver the best marketing campaign you've ever imagined. Any other element of my life is none of your concern. None at all.”

His confident sneer never wavered. “Ayanda, could you leave us?”

Because his eyes had remained on Langa as he made the request, it took a moment for both women to realise he was talking to his assistant. Ayanda looked from Lazola to Langa and back, clearly sensing an intimate tension and not liking its implications at all.

“Mr Rhadebe, I'm not sure I –”

“Thank you, Miss Bala. I'll let you know if I need anything else.”

He never even glanced at her, but the increased authority in his command was unmistakable. The PA rose and collected her things. With a final suspicious glance at the two people who barely acknowledged her, she left.

Lazola stood and came around from behind his desk to tower over Langa. She clung to the arms of her chair as his scent hit her. She remembered it all too well. She recalled it drugging her senses as she'd nipped at his jaw and he stroked her bare spine as if she'd belonged to him.

“Langa, we are bound together by the marketing campaign. In that sense our relationship is professional, but never fool yourself into believing that is all we have. We came together on a completely different level before any of this started. You used your body to capture my attention and now you have it. This dance we're doing is far from over, you know that. I will have you and it will be soon. Make no mistake.”

Langa shivered. “No. You can't.” She shook her head, thinking of the poor lover who had no idea what a liar and cheat this man was. “No. I will never sleep with you.”

Lazola grabbed her and lifted her out of her chair, making her gasp. He pulled her close, but made no further advances. Langa's heart pounded frantically and a dizzy euphoria threatened to tip her world off its axis. Lazola hadn't touched her this intimately since that night and she was dismayed by how easily her body betrayed her and melted into his embrace.

“I beg to differ, Langa. Your words may broadcast defiance, but your body . . .”

She felt him smile against her cheek. His lips were lightly caressing her skin; not really kissing her, but rather sensuously brushing down towards her throat in a way one might expect of a familiar lover. “Your body calls to mine every time we're around each other. You can't deny this.”

When his tongue touched the pulse at her throat, Langa dropped her head back. Her hands grasped his forearms to help keep her upright.

“Look at me.”

She heard him, but found it nearly impossible to obey his order.

“Open your beautiful eyes, honey. Look at me.”

She finally managed to lift her lids. She gasped at the passion she saw in the ebony depths before her. She couldn't resist stroking the powerful arms that held her.

He pulled her tightly to his chest and lowered his lips. He stopped just before actually kissing her, only to murmur against her lips. “Enough with the games, Langa. You want me as much as I want you. Just grow up and admit it.”

He let go of her so suddenly that her knees buckled before she could steady herself and she landed back in her chair with a rather graceless thump.

They didn't bring up their personal matters again after that conversation. Langa and her team dove into the workload ahead of them, and she was rather grateful for the distraction. She owed her work her full focus – and Lazola had a woman to whom he owed his devotion.

3

“How can you write the man off? You two haven't given this thing a fair shot yet!”

Vuvu was glaring at Langa over a glass of iced tea. She'd pushed piles of paperwork to one side of Langa's couch so she could share the cleared half with Angela. “And your theory about him having another lover is ridiculously flimsy. You haven't even seen him with another woman besides that girl you mentioned once, sunshine. And that phone call you keep bringing up could have been from anyone. It could've been his mother, for goodness sake!”

Langa shook her head vehemently. “This is far too much confrontation for a Sunday morning. No, Vuvu, that was the woman from the hotel. You should've seen them together. They're close.”

Vuvu was unfazed. “Well, how serious could it have been? You just said yourself that you haven't seen her since then.”

Angela was nodding vigorously. “Maybe they broke up!”

Langa sighed wearily. She couldn't believe these two had finally found something to agree on. Unfortunately for her, it also meant that they were ganging up against her. She regretted telling them about Lazola. She'd been hoping for a little sympathy and an arsenal of ideas for counteraction.

But no such luck.

“You two need to release all this sexual tension, Lang. Embrace it – and him.” Angela might own a beauty parlour, but she'd studied psychology at university. “You can't hide behind your work forever. Love is scary, but it's a fear you need to overcome before your soulmate passes you by. Lazola's willing
and
divine. What more could you possibly want?”

“Soulmate, ha!” Langa scoffed. She anxiously covered up the tremble in her hands by picking at her chocolate muffin. Lazola Rhadebe was
not
her soulmate. She didn't even believe in a love like that, so that made it even less likely that they were meant to be together. Didn't it?

“I think you should sleep with him.”

Langa's eyes bulged. “Noluvuyo!”

“What? It's only the less soppy version of what Ang has been telling you all along. Sleeping with him will be like scratching an itch. It'll help get him out of your system – if that's what's meant to be. Besides, I'll bet he's fabulous in bed. Why else would so many women throw themselves at him everywhere he goes?”

“Maybe they're after his money,” Angela pointed out.

“Ang is right,” Vuvu beamed. “Sexual prowess and bags of moola make for an irresistible catch. See, now you
have
to sleep with him.”

“That is not what I said!” Angela protested, swatting their friend with one of Langa's worksheets.

Langa quickly jumped up to rescue her paperwork.

Noluvuyo's logic, though warped, certainly had her curiosity piqued. Lazola did have an awful lot of beautiful women trying to catch his eye. Langa bit her lip as she weighed that thought. For some reason, the longer she dwelled on it, the shakier it made her feel. Maybe sleeping with Lazola was not the remedy for her, if she was already feeling this deep tugging inside whenever his name came up.

* * *

Two weeks before the launch Langa was home, proudly contorted in a yoga pose that had been particularly difficult for her. Pure determination had gotten her into the posture, and she appreciated the deep stretch to muscles she had involuntarily tensed in the stress leading up to the big day.

Her skin gleamed as she enjoyed her workout. The doorbell drew her out of her meditative contentment and she uncurled herself. The sun had just set. It was probably Noluvuyo or Angela with new theories about her love life. Or lack thereof.

A delivery man handed her a beautifully embossed envelope. It was an invitation from the ROCH. Her entire team was being awarded a weekend's luxury accommodation for free, starting the night of the launch.

Langa flopped onto her couch, stroking Lazola's signature at the bottom of the card. The yoga instructor on the DVD suggested deep breaths for inner calm.

* * *

Langa looked in wonderment around the banquet chamber of the Sandton ROCH. It was here at last – the third day of spring had brought with it the night of the launch. The night she was to prove herself to Lazola and her boss.

The majestic hall lived up to its name in every sense. The polished marble floors reflected the radiant chandeliers, giving one the feeling of being surrounded by diamonds. A live orchestra was warming up, and its sound was smooth and enchanting. Vuvu and Angela were somewhere enjoying the delicious champagne. The guests were due to arrive in an hour: the wealthy, the famous and the powerful.

Langa was grateful to Angela for the dress she had sent over without asking. It was strapless and a deep wine-red. The material hugged her torso snugly before flowing out from the hip down to the floor. She hadn't managed the time to blow out her hair, but she did pin its thickness up and away from her face. Her lips were a deep red and the rest of her make-up minimal. She felt heavenly.

“Tonight's going to be a ripping success, I can feel it.”

Ben was grinning at her like a little boy at the funfair.

She couldn't help smiling back, enthused by his confidence. “Well, be sure to enjoy it, Nkosi. You've worked very hard on this project.”

“Look who's talking,” he said. “You power on so hard I look bad every time I stop to catch my breath.”

Langa wasn't sure if he was joking or not but she didn't get to respond, as Lazola strode up to them and ungraciously loosened her hand from Ben's arm. He led her away before she could do much more than gasp in shock.

“Lazola,” she tugged at his iron grip, “I'm here with Ben. You can't just –”

“I need you.”

Her silly heart pounded at his simple response. “You what?”

“I have a group of journalists who would love to meet the genius behind tonight's launch. So come along and smile for the camera, Miss Cima. I'm sure your boyfriend will survive an hour without your coddling.”

She was too irritated to notice that they'd stopped walking. “Ben is not my –”

Lazola wasn't interested. He grabbed her by the waist and she felt his heat through the dress. Why did this man affect her so intensely without trying at all? He spun her around, then stepped closer, pressing his strong chest to her back. His head was lowered towards her for a brief moment and she felt his tantalising breath on her bare shoulder.

“Smile, honey. The show's started.”

Her eyes widened, but she managed to smile just in time as the cameras started flashing. The suave look Lazola lifted to the eager journalists was all professionalism.

They spent half an hour answering questions while being photographed. Langa relaxed as Lazola proved himself to be the most gracious partner. He somehow managed to answer questions set to him without allowing Langa to be neglected for too long, and he acknowledged her running of the project throughout.

Professionalism was the last word on her mind every time Lazola smiled in her direction. Of course, she knew it was an act. He was merely charming their audience, his potential clients. And it wouldn't do to forget that he was already enamoured. Langa cast her eye about, looking for the striking beauty she'd seen him with before.

But remembering the absent girl did not do much to subdue her body's responses to the rugged man beside her. Lazola was the very essence of debonair sensuality in a tailored tuxedo. And he made an enchanting host. After their stint with the press, guests started pouring in. He drew her from conversation to conversation with a possessive hand at her lower back, praising her work to each person he addressed.

Langa got caught up in doing what she did best: making sure things ran smoothly. She mingled with the guests, kept the MC on track and checked in on the night's staff. Everything was perfect.

“You'll miss the party if you don't stop working unnecessarily,” Angela told her once she'd completed a second round of inspection.

“There's no such thing as pointless work when you have a client to satisfy,” Langa responded, making a mental note to remind Ben to check on the staff in charge of the parting gifts.

“Ooh, you're
satisfying
the sexy beast, are you?” Noluvuyo's eyebrows danced saucily.

“No! You know what I meant.”

“If you don't want him, can I have him?” Noluvuyo was eying Lazola as he continued to work the room.

Angela gave an outraged cry. “Vuvu! How could you even consider asking that? Besides,” a naughty glint entered her grey eyes, “I wouldn't mind a fair shot at him.”

“What?!”

“Nothing tacky. An arm-wrestling tournament should settle matters nicely.”

At that, both Langa's friends burst out laughing. Langa just shook her head and considered ordering security to see them out.

A few minutes later, on her way to her dining table, she found Ben and apologised for Lazola's behaviour earlier.

“I don't know what got into him.”

Ben raised a sceptical eyebrow as he pulled out a chair for her. “Really, boss? You don't know?”

“No. But I'm guessing you have a theory.”

Langa was interrupted by Thomas Miller before she could take her seat.

“I'm afraid there's been a slight mix-up. Could you please come this way?”

She gave Ben a confused glance and followed the departing Thomas. She was shocked when he led her to the head of the table and pulled out the chair to Lazola's right. She looked back to see Miss Bala the PA taking her vacated seat.

Langa was stopped from protesting by the genuine smile Lazola gave her before turning back to the conversation he was having with the couple on his left. What had got into him?

Starters arrived and Langa lost herself in the pleasure of the company around her. She had the most intriguing man by her side. He'd introduced her to the couples near them and soon everyone was swapping tales of exotic holiday destinations. Langa's mind conjured up detailed images of Lazola's impressive physique in nothing but swimwear. She quickly hid a smile at the thought of him on a tropical beach, water droplets clinging to his skin.

“What's on your mind?” Lazola touched her hand, making her pulse race.

“Nothing much.” Langa found that she couldn't meet his eyes.

“In that case, I'd like to give you something to think about . . . A permanent position with Rhadebe Holdings.”

Langa almost choked. “You're offering me a job? Why?”

The sincerity in his direct gaze sent a shiver across her skin. “Because you're exceptional at what you do. I don't want to wait till the last minute to start finding a suitable replacement once Thomas retires. You've taken an interest in the hotel that extends way beyond the scope of your duties, and that impressed me greatly. You have a better understanding of this gem than anyone, even most of my permanent staff. Who better to run it? Take some time to think about it. I just wanted to plant the idea.”

He'd taken her hand while talking to her. His fingers were lightly stroking her palm, and Langa wondered if he realised how intimate the gesture was. Could she work with this man? Could she survive seeing him every day, when it was becoming worryingly obvious that she was developing the most embarrassing infatuation?

Lazola touched her often throughout the five-course meal. By the time dessert arrived, Langa was amazed that she was still keeping up with the conversation at the table.

Just when she believed her personal torture to be over, Lazola turned a wolfish smile her way.

“I must thank you, Langalethu, for an almost perfect evening.”

His voice was like a direct caress to her senses. Langa had to battle her way out of a languid hypnosis to react to the one word that had bothered her.

“Almost?”

He nodded. “All that's missing is the final touch: a dance with my favourite marketing manager.”

There was no way her jittery nerves would survive endless minutes in his arms. “Oh, I don't think –”

“Good. Just go with the moment.”

He pulled her out to the dance floor before she could protest any further. She felt his warmth embrace her and all words left her. Was it possible to feel deeply at home in the arms of the one person who confused and threatened her the most?

Her body, however, was not interested in soul-searching. It moulded itself to him as if he were the last source of pleasure on earth. Langa silently conceded to having lost this particular battle and rested her head on his shoulder. She felt Lazola's arms tighten around her as one large palm stroked her back.

“Where in the Eastern Cape were you born?” he asked unexpectedly.

“My family lived e-Matatiele. Out in the rural area.”

“I know
.
Mna ndiphuma e-East London, but my father owned a cattle farm near Matatiele. So we're practically neighbours; that must be what drew me to you.”

Langa looked up at him. “You're drawn to challenges, not me.”

His hand stilled. “Why does my presence make you so uncomfortable?”

She became embarrassingly aware of their thighs against each other and his strong heartbeat beneath her right palm.

“You don't make me uncomfortable.”

“You're lying, honey.”

Langa's heart thumped. “You don't know me. How can you presume to know when I'm lying?”

He watched her steadily. “You have a disturbingly deep fondness for chocolate. You're a hard worker and far less forgiving of your shortfalls than you should be. It's served you well, though, considering your successes. Oh, and your brown eyes glow a lighter shade, like melting honey, when you're aroused.”

Fortunately Lazola's arms tightened around her when she stumbled. He pulled her close and continued to lead her. Her eyelids fluttered as she felt her breasts press against his solid chest.

“You don't know . . . I don't . . .” She simply couldn't think with his skilful hand warming the base of her spine like that.