Dark Alpha (ALPHA 2) Read Online Free PDF

taste delicious.”
    Nicky was mortified. Completely humiliated. “Go to hell, Mr. Wynter.” She moved to the end of the bench seat. “How silly of me—you already live there!”
    He chuckled. “So you think I’m the devil, hmm?”
    “One of them, yes!” She stood up, her head held high as she strode angrily across the restaurant.
    Much to the surprise of the manager, as he hurried forward to open the door for her, and so allowing Nicky to make a sweeping exit.
    She totally ignored the man in black standing guard outside the restaurant, the scar livid on his temple in the lamplight, as she walked to the curb to flag down a black cab—and to hell with the expense—only to have him step forward and open the cab door for her to get inside.
    Nicky kept her face averted as she got into the cab, determined that the man who obviously worked for Lucien Wynter wouldn’t see, and report back to his employer, that there had been tears in her eyes as the cab drove away.  
    Lucien Wynter was an arrogant, cold-hearted bastard, and Nicky never wanted to set eyes on him ever again.

Chapter 3
    Eight months later…
    “What can I do for you, Miss McKenzie?” Lucien enquired coolly as he leaned back in the black leather chair behind the shiny black marble desk in his London office.
    She blinked. “You don’t remember me...?”
    Did Lucien remember her?
    Admittedly, the young woman now standing in the middle of his office bore little resemblance to the wild-haired student he had met eight months ago; then she had been dressed in ragged jeans and a tight-fitting T-shirt, her hair a wild halo of red corkscrew curls.
    This Nicky McKenzie had secured those wild red curls into an intricate knot at the nape of her neck, a light foundation on the paleness of her face, a peach lip gloss coloring her lips—which was a pity, because Lucien had really liked the glistening red lip gloss she had been wearing the last time they met. She also wore a black business suit, not an expensive one, but smart enough for a junior executive, and teamed with a fitted white blouse.
    At first glance there seemed very little of the student Nicky McKenzie of eight months ago.
    Until he looked into her eyes.
    The fire leaping in those deep brown eyes definitely belonged to that other, more headstrong Nicky. The Nicky who had walked out of Petruccio’s eight months ago. Leaving him.
    Lucien arched one dark eyebrow. “Should I remember you?”
    Cold, heartless, ruthless, arrogant bastard , Nicky fumed inwardly.
    A cold, heartless, ruthless, arrogant bastard who no doubt sat up here in his office on the penthouse floor of Wynter Enterprises, dressed in his designer label suits—black today, worn with a white silk shirt and pale grey tie—and looked down on what he no doubt saw as the lesser mortals below.
    Getting in the building at all had been difficult enough. The security man at the desk downstairs had finally come to the glass entrance door, after she had rung the bell on the wall outside and looked at him expectantly. He had then politely but firmly informed her, when she asked to see Lucien, that Mr. Wynter didn’t see anyone without an appointment; his tone had implied that very few people ever qualified for one of those, and she certainly wasn’t one of them.
    Nicky had reasoned, pleaded, and then out of desperation, flirted, but it was only when she had the foresight to show him the business card Lucien Wynter had given her eight months ago, that the man had reluctantly agreed to put a call through to Lucien Wynter’s head of security.
    She had spent another ten minutes outside on the pavement before the guard came back and unlocked the door, allowing her to step into the building. Nicky had then been confronted by the same man she had seen with Lucien Wynter in the coffee shop and at the restaurant eight months ago. The man with that distinctive scar at his temple, who had also opened the cab door for her when she walked out of