DMG FF: The Business Tycoon: ch6: pg17: 19th March

When the Black stretch limo pulled up outside, the executives waiting in the foyer fell silent. The new owner of Rogers Corporation – an international business company, the Indian multimillionaire, Armaan Malik, had arrived. His ruthless reputation had preceded him and the tension was electric.

Rhiddima Gupta, the slender brunette on reception, was pale as death, her entire concentration centred on the entrance doors being swept open. In just seconds, she would see him for the first time in fourteen long, endless months...

Her co-worker, Muskaan, a chatty and bubbly brunette, whispered, "Bet he's not anything as attractive as his publicity photos!"

Rhiddima took in an unsteady breath and clenched her hands tightly together. From the instant Armaan Malik had added Rogers Corporation to his global business empire, nobody had been interested in talking about anything else. Rhiddima's nerves were on edge, as she frantically tried to calculate how to avoid being seen by Armaan when she had the misfortune to work on the front desk.

"In fact, it's my bet that this Armaan will be short and round, and about as sexy as Anupam Kher!" Muskaan added snorting.

In immediate contradiction of that forecast, a male who was an easy six foot four inches tall strode in. With his wide shoulders, lean hips and long powerful legs, he had the well-honed physique of a natural athlete. From the crown of his proud dark head to the soles of his hand-made shoes, he was, by any standard, spectacular.

"Haila....I have just died and gone to heaven...." Muskaan swore as the executives engulfed Armaan Malik, desperate to make a good first impression. "Drop dead gorgeous and loaded!"

"Yes..." Rhiddima mumbled shakily, unable to drag her eyes from those bold, bronzed features. She was dizzy with a longing that shamed her, for the bitter-sweet memory of the last night she had spent in Armaan's arms now felt like a guilty secret.

While Armaan appeared fully occupied, Rhiddima left the desk and headed for the cloakroom, intending to stay there until the coast was clear.

"Rhiddima...?"

In shock, she froze in her tracks due to the startling intervention of that rich, dark and husky voice. Oh dear God! Slowly, she turned. The men surrounding Armaan had parted like the Red Sea.

Heart racing so fast she was afraid she would faint, Rhiddima's hazel eyes collided with the sparkling grey eyes set between black, spiky lashes. Having initially moved forward, Armaan stilled and moved an authorative hand to indicate that she should come to him. His lean, strong face was as hard as granite.

"You work here?" Armaan enquired grimly.

Painfully conscious that they were now the focus of astonished stares and surrounded by total silence, Rhiddima nodded jerkily.

"In what capacity?" His fabulous bone structure was taut, the long-lashed brilliance of his eyes raking over her like slashing shards of ice.

"I'm on reception." Rhiddima practically whispered.

His aggressive jawline squared. With a bleak nod of dismissal, Armaan swung away from her.... again.

Rhiddima peered at her still-swollen eyes in the vanity mirror and suppressed a groan. She had not slept the night before.

A plaintive cry sent her whirling round. Across the room, her baby son was clutching his crib bars in frustration. His toy keys had fallen to the carpet. As she restored the ring to his tiny grasping hand, she smiled as his little frown cleared like magic.

Aryan was six months old. He had silky dark curls, huge melting grey eyes and dimples. His features were still rounded and indistinct but he already bore a marked resemblance to his father in hair, skin, and eye colour, Rhiddima conceded miserably.

And there was no denying that she was miserable. Only yesterday, Armaan had looked at her with icy hostility. His attitude had really hurt. But then, she and Armaan had not parted the best of friends and the pain of that cruel severance remained, biting deepest whenever she looked at the son she adored.

Coping as a single parent had not been easy. Her brother Prem, who worked abroad, allowed her to live rent-free in his apartment. Without his generosity, she would have been forced to live on welfare. Having Aryan cared for in the Rogers Corporation day care swallowed half of her salary. What was left over would not stretch to paying a London rent and living expenses as well.

On the bus ride to work, Rhiddima thought back uneasily to Muskaan's reaction to what she had witnessed the day before.

"Hai hai Ridzy, you've certainly been a dark horse," Muskaan had sniped. "Why didn't you say that you actually knew Armaan Malik?"

Rhiddima had told part of the truth but not the whole. Although she had a business degree, she'd been working as an office temp when she first met Armaan Malik. While he was over in London on business, flu had struck down on two of his personal staff.

Rhiddima had arrived at his hotel suite, proud to have gotten the opportunity but secretly quaking in her shoes. She had fallen in love at first sight of his breathtaking dimpled smile. In a split second, he had gone from being the intimidating and powerful Indian tycoon, whom she wanted to impress with her efficiency, to being simply the man of her dreams.

When Armaan had asked her out to dinner, she had been overjoyed. Six weeks of ecstatic happiness followed before everything began to go wrong...

Rhiddima hurried into the Rogers Corporation building and left Aryan in the ground floor nursery. As always, leaving him was a struggle. And like every other employee using the excellent childcare facility, she was anxiously wondering whether Armaan Malik would keep such a staff luxury.

When she arrived at the reception, Muskaan pushed a sheet of paper towards her. "Looks like you're on the way up..."

Rhiddima frowned. "What's this?"

"Personnel sent it down. You have an interview with Armaan Malik tomorrow afternoon." Muskaan's envy was unconcealed. "You must have made quite an impression the last time you worked for him Ridzy........"

Armaan was chairing a board meeting when Rhiddima arrived.

Nervous as a cat on hot bricks, she organized the small office allotted to her. Finally, the phone rang and she was summoned into the boardroom. Armaan immediately stood up, provoking a noisy thrusting back of seats as the all-male management team surged to emulate his good manners.

"Not only has Miss Gupta a topflight marketing degree, but she is also fluent in French and Spanish," Armaan said, disconcerting Rhiddima a great deal with that introduction. "What was she doing down on reception?"

Looking aghast, the personnel manager froze.

"A business that fails to place promising staff in a key position is wasteful." Armaan delivered. "I have also taken note of the fact that there are no female managers, an extraordinary achievement in a firm this size."

On that thought for the day, Armaan closed the meeting. Suddenly, Rhiddima understood that there had been nothing personal about his decision to promote her. He had simply used her to highlight his lecture about equal opportunities! A confusing mixture of reluctant admiration, pain and resentment assailed her.

A vision of masculine sophistication in a superb gray business suit, Armaan showed Rhiddima into his office. "Last month Rogers Corporation settled two charges of sexual discrimination out of court. There will not be a third ?"

"I thought you didn't approve of working women ?"

Armaan raised a brow. "You were the first working woman I took to my bed and you were often unavailable when I wanted you. What I seek for my own satisfaction in my private life has no relation to my opinions as an employer."

Hotly flushed in receipt of that blunt clarification, Rhiddima tore her gaze from his and regretted her own over-familiar comment. All those months ago, she had only actually worked for Armaan for three days before their passionate affair began and she had moved on to another agency placement.

"I have a long list of tasks for you," Armaan continued without skipping a beat, the heavy silence not seeming to disturb him in the slightest.

But then, she already knew that he did not have a sensitive bone in his body, didn't she? Everything Armaan did merely emphasized that she had never been more than a casual bed partner on his terms. Her throat convulsed with tears.

He extended an audiotape to her. "It's all on here. First, you send out the invitations to the dinner party. Then you can nip over to Bond Street and choose a bracelet for Anjali. I'll fill in the gift card."

Powered by a near-agonizing sense of humiliation and pain, Rhiddima lifted her head, hazel eyes alight with outrage.

"You are asking me to choose jewelry for your current lover?? she exclaimed and flung the tape back at his feet. "You call that work? I call it victimization and revenge. Burn in hell, Armaan!?

Armaan studied her with incredulous grey eyes.

"I hate you...I really hate you! You were the biggest mistake I ever made in my whole life!" And on that embittered declaration, Rhiddima stalked out....