Gwen stared at the orange file as though it were a snake ready to strike. How could anyone put money into a business without wanting to control it?
‘Th-thank you, Etienne. That’s very kind of you,’ she said slowly, hoping she really could believe that. She had been brought up by hard-nosed business people. She knew what business life did to people, and couldn’t bear to think of Etienne being similarly underhand. ‘But I have to ask—what’s in this for you?’
‘I’ve told you: it is part of my wider strategy to spread my investments. In addition, I get to eat and entertain at the finest venue in this part of France.’
‘And that’s all?’ She watched him carefully. He showed no outward signs of tension whatsoever. Leaning forward, he clasped his hands loosely on the desk before him. He was the perfect businessman, ready for the next topic on his agenda.
‘What happens if I say no?’
He stared at her, taking some time to compute what she had said. Then without warning he broke eye contact, poured himself a glass of water and took a long, slow drink. When he put down his glass, he stretched the silence further until eventually he announced: ‘If you do, you will prove yourself to be as sadly misguided as the last woman who refused to take my advice. I’m sure you know what happened to her.’
Gwen felt her stomach turn a somersault. In a couple of days, Etienne had flipped her life upside down to devastating effect. When she looked at him now, her eyelids fluttered with apprehension. In contrast, his gaze was rock steady. Penetrating her puny defences, his single-minded power alarmed her. She passed the tip of her tongue nervously over her parched lips.
‘I hardly like to ask,’ she said faintly. Etienne looked surprised, and suspicious.
‘You must have seen the press coverage at the time?’
Gwen shook her head, confused. His laughter subsided into a bitter smile.
‘It was front-page news. The glossies had a field day.’
Gwen, who couldn’t remember when she last had the time to read anything beyond a recipe book, stared at him bleakly.
‘Thank you for your discretion, Gwen, but don’t worry about hurting my feelings. I no longer have any. They were burned away long ago. Angela Webbington’s deceit made sure of that. And with your links to Nick, I’m sure he’s told you all the repulsive details the media missed.’
‘No…I hardly know the man.’ She shook her head, bewildered. ‘He’s my landlord, that’s all. Since Carys jilted him and I bought out their share of the business, we’ve rarely had time to chat.’
Etienne stared at her for a long time. Gwen felt under intense pressure, but she could do nothing about it. She had never heard of this Angela Webbington in her life, but she was certain of one thing. The moment she next got her hands on a computer, search engines would be humming with the name.
‘There’s no point in expecting me to crack and change my story, Etienne. I can only tell you the truth. I have no idea what went on in your past. And I’m not sure I want you to tell me, right now,’ she said uneasily. ‘I’d rather feel free to come to my own decision over your plan. I don’t want the shadow of some other woman’s mistake hanging over me.’
His expression changed, but she found it impossible to tell what was going on in his mind.
‘Then you’re very wise,’ he said quietly. ‘Let’s concentrate on my plans to become your business partner, instead. What do you think, Miss Williams?’ he said, gently mocking her earnest expression.
Gwen took a deep breath. She felt on safer ground when the talk turned to Le Rossignol, but had to speak her mind. The chances were Etienne wouldn’t like that, and she didn’t relish the thought of provoking him.
‘I—I shall have to think about it,’ she ventured, too afraid of what she might see to lift her eyes from the smart, customised file in front of her. Then she thought of a way to escape from this confrontation with her dignity intact. ‘Can I take this away with me and study it? I could give you my answer tomorrow.’
He was silent for so long, Gwen couldn’t stand it. Finally she let her eyes work their way across the table until she reached his blotting pad. His hands were there, as smooth and golden as ever. They cradled the barrel of his fountain pen as lightly as they had once danced over her body. Now they were still. Her gaze was drawn inexorably upwards, over the body she craved to his resolute stare. It was softer now, but still warned her to keep at arm’s length.
‘Is that all right? Can I have some time to consider your offer?’ she repeated nervously. He pressed his lips together. It was a gesture of exclusion, concealing every trace of their naturally sensuous shape.
‘I can’t deny I’m surprised, Gwen. I thought you’d jump at the chance. But you can certainly take time to read over the contract—of that I insist.’
‘I didn’t come this far to sign away everything I’m fighting for in a moment of desperation— I mean, to sign away all my rights without studying what my responsibilities will be,’ she corrected herself quickly.
Etienne raised a brow at the word she had been swift to cover up. ‘Desperate, Gwen?’
There was no point in denying it. This man knew all about her unpaid electricity bill. He probably suspected lack of money was the reason her car ran out of petrol. That stung, because it wasn’t true. Gwen raised her chin and looked him straight in the eye. ‘I always pay my debts. It’s finding the time to do it that’s the problem.’
He nodded. ‘That’s why my idea is your perfect solution.’ Looking closely at her face, he ran his gaze over her again and again as he catalogued all the details.
‘I can see how heavily the responsibility weighs on you. When was the last time you had a decent night’s sleep?’
Gwen blushed. Etienne’s eyes, which until then had been riveted on her, flicked away. It was his turn to make a correction. ‘Uninterrupted sleep, that is?’
‘I can’t remember. There’s always something that needs attention. Or somebody,’ she finished lightly.
‘Then why don’t you look upon my offer as a way to buy yourself some time? My investment in Le Rossignol would fund extra staff, new equipment, IT training and anything else you need to make your business run more smoothly. Notice how I used the term investment. I didn’t call it my money. I know how you feel about offers of personal generosity.’ He looked at her acutely from beneath his fine dark brows.
Gwen did not share his quiet amusement. She winced at the memory of what had happened over breakfast the previous day. Etienne didn’t let that stop him for a minute. He was already moving on.
‘Under this scheme, you’ll be free to concentrate on the things you do best—catering and entertaining. I’d be your sleeping partner, an arrangement that will benefit us both. A business arrangement, that’s it,’ he stressed again.
Gwen hardly needed his emphasis. The perfectly produced business plan in front of her and his quiet formality would have been reassurance enough. The fact she was indeed desperate added another good hard shove in the direction of accepting his offer.
She sat on her hands. Every instinct told her to play it cool; this just seemed too good to be true. Could anyone be so kind without an ulterior motive? She organised her face into an expression of deep scepticism. It was either that, or throw herself across the desk, showering him with grateful kisses while she searched for his chequebook. She let her dangerously dishonest expression slide across the table and onto her lap. There she studied her hands with their crossed fingers, and hoped.
‘I still don’t know…’ She squeezed the words out as though they were taxable. ‘I need to think about it.’
Well—I never knew I could lie like that! she thought, astonished. In a few short hours Etienne had introduced her to all sorts of new experiences. She despised dishonesty, both in herself and others. The only way she managed to get the words out was by telling herself she wasn’t actually altering the truth. She was only backing away from it.
To her surprise, the reply pleased him.
> ‘Good—I’m glad you want to give it such careful consideration. That shows sound business sense. Study the papers, and the draft contract, too.’ With a small smile, he nodded and handed her a second file from his pile of paperwork. ‘And now, you have a choice. I have an appointment on the mainland, so I’m flying straight back. You can either travel with me, when you can spend a few hours wandering around the shops until I’m ready to return. Alternatively, you can stay here and enjoy what The Windflower has to offer while you study the paperwork at your leisure. Then, if you have any questions, we can discuss it over dinner.’
CHAPTER SIX
ETIENNE might have proved he had the selective memory of a gentleman, but Gwen was still uncertain.
‘Dinner? Where? Le Rossignol isn’t open tonight, and I was only going to have salad at home—’
Etienne shook his head with a smile.
‘It will be served here on The Windflower.’
Gwen looked around, almost breathless with delight. Dinner on his private yacht sounded like heaven. It only took her a few seconds to discover the flaw in his plan.
‘What happens if I haven’t come to a decision by this evening?’
‘It doesn’t matter. I expect you’ll get a certain amount of pleasure from a gourmet meal you haven’t had to plan and organise yourself?’ He grinned. ‘I don’t employ a huge staff purely for my own benefit. When I entertain a prospective business partner, I entertain.’ He stressed his final words as though the phrase should be inscribed in block capitals over the entrance to every room. Gwen smiled, recognising again their mutual desire to put on a good show for the benefit of others. All the fight flowed out of her in an instant.
‘I’d be delighted to stay here,’ she said with real feeling. ‘Although I’m afraid I don’t have anything to wear.’
He laughed. ‘If that troubles you so much, I could send someone to the gite to collect something for you?’
Gwen bit her lip. Her only formal dress he had already seen. Not, she reminded herself sternly, that this mattered. Her aim was to dress appropriately, not to impress him… Yeah, right, said the annoyingly honest voice in her head. She could take up his offer of a lift back to the mainland and hit the shops instead, but she didn’t want to. For one thing, she couldn’t afford to splash out on a new dress. For another, she was itching to sample what life on The Windflower had to offer. While Etienne was on shore, she could indulge her fantasies in safety. She swallowed her pride.
‘My blue dress is in the wardrobe at home…’
Etienne held out his hand for her keys and Gwen handed them over in silent amazement at this man who seemed able to solve any problem and persuade her into anything. As she told him where to find all the things she would need to get ready for dinner that evening she marvelled at how helpful he was being. His reaction when he’d mentioned the name ‘Angela Webbington’ had disturbed her. He had presented himself then as some sort of hollow, disappointed man. Right now, nothing could look less like the truth. Etienne was his usual, charming, irritatingly compelling self. Her curiosity was well and truly aroused. What sort of grim secret could such a man be hiding? She had noticed that laptop computers were available for use in all the public areas of the ship. The temptation to find out the worst about him began to dangle before her. If Etienne assumed his past was common knowledge, he wasn’t likely to care if one more person found out about it. And putting a couple of names into a search engine hardly amounts to snooping, does it? she reassured herself.
After pocketing her keys, Etienne reached out and patted her unexpectedly on the arm.
‘My people will be very careful. You don’t need to worry about a thing,’ he said as his touch dropped away from her.
Gwen thought of the moment she had tried to slip out of bed and he had drawn her back into his body with those same, strong hands. Memory snatched the breath from her throat. She looked up quickly to see if he had noticed. He was looking at her, but his expression was as impassive as it had been when he was annotating his business proposition. With an awful pang she realised their moments together had passed. Any fear she might have felt at being alone with him dissolved. He wanted her business as a project now, not her body for his plaything. She had lost her chance. The only thing she had left was her dignity, and she wasn’t going to let that go without a struggle. She tried to make it sound as though she were still in two minds about accepting his invitation.
‘OK, thanks. What time is dinner, and where will it be served?’
‘I haven’t decided on either yet,’ he said affably.
‘Don’t worry. When it’s ready, I’ll send a steward to find you.’
‘I’m sorry I misjudged you, Etienne. You really did invite me here for business, after all!’ Gwen said, trying to keep her voice light and casual.
‘How could you ever doubt me?’ He gave her a particularly winning smile as he escorted her to the door.
‘You made it quite clear yesterday that you don’t want to become my mistress. Nothing else was on offer. I’m a straight-talking man. Unlike some people, I don’t make promises I can’t keep.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Gwen tried to leave it at that, but some devilish impulse forced her to add, ‘It doesn’t stop you keeping plenty of company, though! I lost count of how many women I saw you talking to at the reception.’
‘None of them matter.’ He sliced the remark at her sharply.
Taken aback by his bitter tone, she thought of his bathroom back at the chateau, stocked with cosmetics for every taste and occasion. Evidently, plenty of women passed through his hands, but none made much of an impression on him. That made his mention of the shadowy figure of Angela Webbington all the more interesting. She had mattered. Gwen’s curiosity increased until she could hardly stand it.
‘You’re looking thoughtful, Gwen?’
She jumped guiltily, and said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Do your staff treat all your female visitors the same?’
‘Gwen, you are very worried about the staff. They are not here to judge you, they are here because they have jobs to do.’
He started walking away and then stopped a little short of the boardroom door. ‘And of course,’ he continued with a hint of mischief in his eyes, ‘there’s all the difference in the world between the way I introduced you as “Miss Gwen Williams” today—’ standing a little apart from her, he extended his palm to an imaginary member of staff exactly as he had done earlier, up on deck ‘—and this…’
Before Gwen realised what was happening he had closed the gap between them and slid his arm around her waist. It enclosed her with a memory of those sublime moments they had shared as he lowered his voice to say, ‘Meet Gwen, everybody…’
Instinctively, she relaxed against the delicious pressure of his arm. Almost at once it slipped away from her, like a dream. It was a painful reawakening. Gwen blinked quickly, trying to dismiss the sinful feelings that kept creeping up on her. When Etienne leaned across her in the helicopter, and now as he demonstrated his technique with conquests, the urge to take matters on her own lips and kiss him almost made a fool of her. Gwen knew she must forget their night of passion. Etienne certainly had. From the way he casually left her side and opened the boardroom door to usher her out now, he couldn’t have meant anything by it. All his little gestures, like those smiles that made her feel like the only girl in the world, must be totally unconscious.
He summoned a steward to show Gwen to her suite. She swept past Etienne with what she hoped was an air of professional detachment and followed the man to her temporary home. Only then, behind locked doors, could she allow herself to grieve for what might have been.
Etienne could not watch her walk away. He went back into the boardroom, locked the door and leaned back against it. Anyone would have to break through four inches of solid mahogany and his iron determination to get in. This whole situation was bizarre. Gwen Williams was a real challenge. She confronted him with both the easiest and th
e most difficult situations. Here was a woman who didn’t want to become his mistress. If that wasn’t unbelievable enough, it really mattered to him! She was so totally unlike any other woman he had bedded. He couldn’t let the memory go. They talked together then, and they were still talking now. She said things he found worth listening to. He found he wanted to know what she was going to say next. Whenever he closed a door on her, it could never quite shut her out of his mind.
It had to be because she had resisted him. That was surely the top and bottom of it. He wanted her to want him, body and soul. Anything less was unnatural. Gwen’s body language kept saying yes. Yet she had refused him twice, and nothing on earth would persuade him to risk asking her again. Instead, he had changed tack and was offering her the only thing more powerful than his attraction for the opposite sex—money. It was incomprehensible that any woman would take advantage of that before his body, but Etienne had to give her the chance. Once again, she flew in the face of reason. She hadn’t accepted straight away. He tried to persuade himself this was a good thing. Gwen was the first girl who had touched his heart since Angela. And, if he put her on a similar pedestal he would expect her to fall to earth with an equally leaden thud, but it hadn’t happened yet, despite her circumstances.
Until he took her home and found the place was condemned to darkness, Etienne had had no idea that she was in such financial difficulty. It didn’t take much imagination to realise other parts of Gwen’s lifestyle would be under threat. She was obviously desperate for money, but she still held out against him. She refused to take the easy way out. He had never before known a woman with such an independent streak.
Smiling to himself, he moved away from the door. He strolled back to the boardroom table. His personal copy of her file lay on top of his pile of paperwork. Placing one long golden finger on her name, he traced over the letters.
The Count's Challenge Page 9
