Enough with the gambling metaphors, she told herself sharply. This was no time to be introspective. She had to hold her nerve; men like Jonathan Ambrose could smell fear and weakness from a mile away. It was how they made their millions.
“I left a message with your PA,” she said politely.
“Ah yes, she did tell me.” He exhaled and glanced at his Rolex. “OK, Ness, I can give you five minutes. Have a seat.”
Five minutes to plead her case. Wow. That was harsh and nothing like their last meeting. On that occasion Jonathan Ambrose had been all smiles and flattery, whereas today she was about as welcome as the tax inspector. Ness supposed she was surplus to requirements now that he had what he wanted.
Or else this was revenge for dumping his son?
She settled herself into the chair and did her best to smile. She needed to act as though she was in control of all this, even if the exact opposite felt true. Aware that her fingers were gripping the armrests far too tightly, she forced herself to relax her hands and look like she was here to do business rather than to plead. She had to keep a level head or he’d sense she was really in trouble and then everything would unravel.
It had all felt dangerously close to unravelling on Saturday. While the police had searched the stage area, Ness had watched in shock. Only Max holding her hand had kept her from tumbling into despair. It was odd that in her moment of need it had been her worst enemy who’d stepped up to the plate, but she supposed he was keeping a close eye on the island, biding his time. It hadn’t felt like that, however; if she’d had to describe it, then Ness would have said it felt as though Max actually cared – which was crazy because of course he didn’t. Like Jonathan Ambrose, he was playing a very clever game.
She’d spoken to the crowd, telling them that the festival was over. It had been a nerve-racking experience. Ness knew that for the rest of her life she’d wake up dreaming of that moment, her heart pounding as she relived the disbelief on those faces staring up at her and heard again their cries of anger.
As Ness dredged up the last of her courage and prepared to pitch her case to Jonathan, she realised that Annie was right. It didn’t matter that there hadn’t been any drugs on the island, apart from the small amount used to lure the sniffer dog. People would still choose to believe the worst. The most precious thing Ness owned wasn’t the castle or the land it stood on, but the island’s reputation.
“You can probably guess why I’m here,” she began, hoping Jonathan Ambrose couldn’t hear the thudding of her heart.
He didn’t say a word, so Ness ploughed on.
“I’d like to renegotiate the terms of our agreement. If we could put the repayments back until the spring, that would help in the short term, and I’d also like to take you up on the extra credit that you suggested before. I’d like to make it half a million instead of a quarter.”
“Ah.” His pudgy face folded into a concerned expression. “I thought this might be what you wanted to discuss. I’m afraid it really won’t be possible though.”
Ness was prepared for games. He’d play her – make her squirm and grovel before offering her something that wasn’t anywhere near what she needed, to lure her even more into the mire. It made her sick to the stomach but what choice did she have? Without an extension to the loan, they were finished. She may as well throw the keys to Max.
“We’ve had some bad luck—” she began, and Jonathan raised his eyebrows.
“I’d hardly call a drugs bust bad luck, my dear!”
“It wasn’t a drugs bust! It was all a huge mistake and the tiny amount that was found was planted there to create the worst possible disruption to our festival!” Ness wasn’t having anyone, no matter how wealthy or powerful, accuse her of criminal activity. “The DCI said that himself! He thinks it’s likely to be somebody with a grudge against us.”
“How unfortunate if so – and doubly unfortunate that your venture is now associated with drugs.” Jonathan Ambrose didn’t miss a beat. Neither did he look concerned.
“Anyway, how do you already know all this?” Ness asked.
His lips twitched. “Let’s just say that I have my sources. It’s prudent for an investor to know what’s going on.”
“You mean there’s a spy,” Ness said bitterly. It didn’t take the detective skills of Hercule Poirot to figure out who that might be. And to think that for a brief, stupid, wonderful moment she’d been naïve enough to imagine that Max Reynard was on her side. No wonder she’d not heard a word from him since Saturday. He’d been busy turning her bad luck to his advantage. How he must have been laughing.
It was funny though. At the time it had felt as though he really cared…
“Spy? That’s a little harsh, my dear. I think you probably mean ‘helpful contact’. And that person was right to think I’d want to know if one of my investments had been involved in a drugs scandal. I’m glad they were so keen to tell me, before the press made the connection. You can surely see how this puts Ambrose Investments in a very awkward position.”
Ness wasn’t interested in his pompous and self-righteous talk – not when she’d lived in the Caribbean and seen first-hand just how unscrupulous Jonathan Ambrose really was. After all, he operated in a tax haven where everyone looked the other way.
“The property’s worth a large amount of money and you said yourself that the risk to you was low,” she shot back, not sure where her sudden courage had come from but thrilled to find it. “You offered to extend me half a million pounds before, and I only took half of that amount. Today I’m here to ask to borrow the rest and I’m offering you the chance to have an even bigger stake. I’m prepared to take the risk. How about you? Are you brave enough?”
He whistled. “That’s some speech. You certainly know how to roll the dice, young lady.”
Ness didn’t say a word. She couldn’t: she was holding her breath.
Jonathan Ambrose stood up and walked to the office window.
“You don’t give up easily, do you Nessa?” he said slowly.
Ness supposed she didn’t; if so, she was the opposite of her father, who’d always run the second there’d been as much as a whiff of trouble. Perhaps she was like her mother. Maybe Beth Penwellyn had been the one who’d fought for what she wanted?
Jonathan Ambrose turned back to face her. His expression was serious and a little regretful. “Even if I do want to help you, which I have to admit would be my inclination, I’m afraid that it’s not going to be possible. In short, I’ve sold my interest in Pirran Island.”
Ness couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “No! You can’t have done. I signed a deal with you!”
“And in that deal it was made very clear that Ambrose was at liberty to sell its stake to another party. Taking recent events into account, I didn’t feel that the investment was right for my company anymore. I no longer have any say over the future of Pirran Island, Nessa.” His tone was mild but deadly and Ness knew that she was in way, way out of her depth. Jonathan Ambrose hadn’t just been diving with the sharks in those blue Caribbean waters; he’d been taking masterclasses from them. “I’m afraid you’ll need to speak with the new owner of those interests if you want to renegotiate your terms.”
“So who’s that?” Ness demanded. Her mind was racing as she tried furiously to think of a way she could save this situation. “Another company?”
“In effect, yes. Reynard Developments has bought the investment. In fact I was just about to have someone send out a letter to inform you of the change.”
Ness couldn’t believe her ears. “You’re telling me Max Reynard owns your stake in Pirran Island? Since when?”
He glanced again at his expensive watch. “Since I spoke to him about an hour ago. You’ve just missed him actually.”
Ness wasn’t going to listen to this for a minute longer. Her temper was simmering. Any moment now she knew she’d explode in a way that would make Mount Etna look like a damp firework. She spun on her heel and tore straight down the
stairs rather than waiting for the lift. As soon as she reached the ground floor, she flew across the concourse, shot out into the street and hailed a taxi.
“The main offices of Reynard Developments,” she gasped, to the surprised cabbie.
“Bloody hell, love! When women fall panting into my cab they normally ask for the nearest maternity hospital,” he grinned. Nevertheless, he spun the taxi around and headed into the City, while Ness sat in the back gnawing her nails. By the time the car stopped outside a chrome and glass monstrosity of a building, Ness was so wound up she was almost ready to chime.
How typical of Max to have his office in a giant phallic symbol, she fumed as she waited for the receptionist to dial up to Reynard Developments’ headquarters. No doubt he was there now, laughing his head off because he’d pulled a fast one on the silly girl who’d been naïve enough to almost believe he cared and who’d definitely been foolish enough to lie awake in her turret bedroom, staring across the dark waves at the single light burning in his house. He’d probably known that she was reliving his kisses and dreaming of more. She’d bet anything that duping people like her was how he got his hands on most of his property.
Could she have been more stupid?
“Is Mr Reynard expecting you?” asked the pretty receptionist, her heavily mascaraed eyes flickering over Ness critically. Catching a glimpse of herself in the tinted glass behind the desk, Ness saw that she was wild-eyed and even wilder-haired, her long red curls having escaped the neat bun to snake crazily over her shoulders. She looked savage.
Good. Savage was exactly how she was feeling.
“He’d better be,” Ness told her grimly. “Tell him Nessa Penwellyn’s here.”
To her credit, the receptionist did a good job of appearing unflustered. (Then again, maybe Max just had them all lobotomised? He clearly liked his women thick.) Within minutes, Ness was riding the private lift right up to the penthouse office.
What a cliché, she thought, as the doors swished open and she stepped out into a light room with a jaw-dropping view of London tumbling away beneath it. A penthouse, a blonde PA and now what? Greed is good? Lunch is for wimps? Or how about an explanation of why he’d chosen to stitch her up and not had the balls to tell her?
“Ness! This is a lovely surprise!” Max was wearing a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up above his tanned forearms, and as he crossed the room to meet her his muscular body dominated the large office. In spite of her fury, Ness felt the strong pull of attraction and her rage intensified.
“Is it?” she hissed. “I’d describe my experience today as being closer to a shock.”
“Ah. You’ve spoken to Jonathan Ambrose.”
“You bet I have.” Hands on her hips and green eyes bright with rage, Ness rounded on him. “It didn’t take you long to pounce did it, Max? Were you on the phone to him the minute you left the festival?”
One corner of his mouth quirked upwards. “You really don’t have a great opinion of me, do you?”
“What do you expect? You’ve been playing me since the moment we first met. So did you tell him about the raid?”
He held her gaze steadily. “No, I most certainly didn’t, although I did call him the minute I knew he was looking to offload the investment. Why so quick to believe the worst of me, Ness? What are you so afraid of?”
She shook her head, livid with herself for the currents of emotion that were pulling her in so many strange directions. “There’s nothing about any of this that I’m afraid of, because I’m not the one who’s been playing a double game, am I? Tell me, Max, did you pay someone to hide that bag behind the stage?”
“Are you accusing me of planting those drugs?”
“We all know how much you want Pirran Island! It’s hardly a secret!”
His eyes narrowed. “Be careful, Nessa. That’s a very dangerous accusation to throw around. I’d think twice before saying something like that. Besides, do you really think that’s how I operate?”
“Yes! No! I don’t know! Oh!” Frustrated with the entire situation, Ness dug her hands into her hair and tugged furiously at her curls as she glowered at him. “I don’t know what you’d do, Max! One minute I think I’ve got you all worked out and the next I’m totally confused. What are you playing at?”
“Nessa, stop it.” He moved forwards and a shiver of anticipation rippled over her skin when he placed his strong hands on her wrists, gently untangling her fingers. “Why are you always fighting me?”
“Because you’re always fighting me!” Ness half shouted, half sobbed. “Since the second I arrived you’ve been waiting for me to trip up so that you could step in and buy the island. Go on, admit it! You know it’s true.”
Her hands were free but Max still had hold of her wrists, and with a tug he pulled her closer until she was only inches away from him. She held herself rigid, struggling not to inhale the scent of fresh linen and clean male skin, resisting the longing to sag against him and let the fight slip away.
Then Max sighed. “Fine, I admit that when Jamie didn’t inherit I was annoyed, especially since he’d told me the place was as good as his and been advanced a fair sum too. Then it occurred to me that the situation could work to my advantage. You were new to the place and didn’t know what it involved, and I’d already decided that I’d give you enough time to mess up and then make an offer. I wasn’t lying in wait for you at the hotel though! Dammit, Ness. I didn’t need to. It was bloody obvious you didn’t stand a chance. You didn’t need me to cause trouble: you already had quite enough of your own to contend with and far closer to home.”
They stared at each other for a moment.
“It was Jamie, wasn’t it?” Ness said slowly. “Of course it was. It’s been him all along.”
Now things were starting to fall into place – all the mishaps and bad luck, things that had happened all at the wrong time and could only have been orchestrated by someone who knew the castle and the way the island ran. Jamie had access to Lucy too and, as sweet as her cousin was, Ness knew that she was weak when it came to him. There were things she could easily have let slip without meaning to, and whenever Jamie had visited her he’d have been able to see what was happening at the castle. It wouldn’t have been difficult for him to find out that Ness had borrowed money from Ambrose Investments, either. A five-minute snoop around the library would have been more than enough to tell him all he needed to know.
“I’m afraid I think you could well be right,” Max agreed, “and I’m sorry to say that I might be responsible for that. He thinks that if I buy the place the agreement still stands – I mean the one that he and I had when he was expecting to inherit the island.”
“You were going to pay off his debts and give him an apartment,” Ness said. Of course he was. It was exactly the deal that Max had offered her; no doubt he’d once offered the same to Jamie.
“Yes.” Max was still holding her wrists but his grip loosened. “I’m so sorry, Ness. With his deviousness and the costs involved in running the place you never stood a chance.”
“You’re wrong, Max! It was working. I had plans and I could have seen them through if I’d just had more time.”
“With Jonathan Ambrose pulling the strings?” Max gave a harsh laugh. “I hardly think so. If anyone was going to pounce then it was him. He was just waiting for you to use the noose he’d given you.”
“I could have done it!” Ness insisted. She wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of him. No way. “If you hadn’t ruined things I could have renegotiated and made it work. I know I could.”
Max let her wrists slide from his grasp and he shook his head wearily. “No you couldn’t, Ness. The odds were stacked against you from the start. I don’t doubt you’ve got fire and I know you’ve got passion, but it was always impossible. You should take heart though; your vision for the island’s certainly changed mine.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that when I first thought of buying it I wanted Pirran Island as the flagship
development for Reynards. I wanted Pirran Castle to be a byword for luxury and privacy – somewhere so exclusive that the world’s wealthiest aspired to be there and to boast about it. It was going to showcase the very best of Reynards. It was to be the jewel in our crown.”
Ness shuddered as a vision of oligarchs and sheikhs, speedboats and keep out signs flashed before her eyes. “It sounds hideous.”
“I agree,” he said.
“You agree?” Ness was taken aback. Those two words, quietly spoken, rang with sincerity and punctured her wrath. “How can you agree? You want to develop the place. You said so.”
His hand rose to brush a curl back from her flushed cheeks.
“Can’t a man change, Ness? Isn’t he allowed to see things differently when someone he cares about opens his eyes? I see the beauty of the place, the same wild untamed spirit that I see in you, and I can’t feel the same way about owning it and controlling it as I used to. All the things that make the island special were there before, and of course I saw them – but I never felt them.” His hand fell to trace the curve of her cheek and Ness was mesmerised by his intensity. “I still want to develop the castle and I truly think it’s the only hope of saving the place from ruin, but there’s a better way to do it. A way that I think could preserve it for everyone. It’s a magical place and it needs to stay that way. So you see, Ness, that’s the vision I have now. Your vision.”
For a second Ness almost believed him. Heaven only knew she wanted to believe him. Those compelling grey eyes brimmed with emotion, and as all their past encounters spooled through her memory it took a supreme effort not to tumble head first into trusting him. The first moonlit meeting, their kiss at Grace Note Bay and finally his calm presence beside her as the festival had unravelled. He’d been the anchor that had held her firm amid a sea of panic. But then she remembered how he’d been in league with Jamie from the start and probably still was. How could she ever trust Max Reynard? Even now he was probably pursuing his own ruthless agenda.
The Island Legacy Page 33
