by Miranda Lee
What really irked Marcus most was that she wasn’t in any dire financial situation which might have warranted such extreme action. He might have been sympathetic if she’d been in real need, if she and her mother were down to their last dollar. But both of them could live quite comfortably on the left-overs if they sold the house and repaid that debt.
But, no, they had to have it all. The high-class home to go with the high-class lifestyle. The final nail in Miss Montgomery’s coffin was that she was here tonight, swanning around in a dress worth more than a working-class girl could spend on her wardrobe in a year!
Marcus recognised designer labels when he saw them. That little scrap of red silk she was almost wearing had not been bought off the rack. It had big dollars written all over it, not to mention sex.
Marcus couldn’t keep his eyes off the way it hugged her perfect figure, displaying everything she had to offer a man. Justine Montgomery was no misunderstood innocent. She was a clever, calculating, conniving creature, who wanted what she wanted and was frustrated at being thwarted.
‘I didn’t humiliate you,’ he pointed out frostily. ‘You humiliated yourself.’
Justine glared at him and thought she had never hated a man so much. Her heart was hammering wildly in her chest. She was actually quivering from head to foot. Yet he was standing before her like a marble statue, his face a stony mask, his eyes as hard as ebony. His cold indifference to her distress forced her to regroup and control her temper. In a fashion.
‘You’re right,’ she admitted shakily. ‘I did. But at least I had a good reason. What’s your excuse?’
‘My excuse?’ he said in an almost startled fashion.
‘You don’t have one, do you? Men like you don’t think you need one. You’re above explanations, and excuses, and apologies. Yesterday you gave me a lecture on moral values. But I wonder, Mr Osborne, if your own life would bear too close an inspection. Are you as pure as the driven snow? When was the last time you slept with a woman for reasons other than true love? When was the last time you made a successful investment using information you gleaned from an inside source?’
Justine was taken aback when an angry red slashed across his cheekbones. ‘I have never done any such thing!’
‘What?’
‘Been guilty of insider trading. As for sleeping with women for reasons other than true love... true love is a rare commodity these days, Miss Montgomery. However, I do try to choose bedpartners I both like and respect.’
‘Which should narrow prospective candidates down considerably, I would imagine,’ she shot back, piqued by the fact he neither liked nor respected her.
‘I don’t usually have any trouble.’
‘With such impossibly high standards?’
He glared at her and she quaked a little in her high heels. Goodness, but he was a formidable man. Trudy had been right there. But oh, so selfrighteous!
‘Have you quite finished, Miss Montgomery?’
‘No, I damned well haven’t! You think you’re so superior, don’t you? Sitting up there behind your undoubtedly big desk in that big bank of yours and deciding who’ll be bailed out and who won’t. You no doubt sacked Wade Hampton for what he’d been up to, but you weren’t any better yesterday. Apart from your vile deception, you didn’t give me a fair hearing. You didn’t listen to my proposition with an open mind. Your ugly preconceptions blinded you to what was actually a legitimate business proposition.’
‘Come now, Miss Montgomery, do you honestly expect me to feel confident that someone like you could run a boarding house of that size?’
‘Someone like me? What do you mean, someone like me?’ Justine suddenly saw red. ‘Oh, I get it! You think I’m useless. Some spoilt, lazy little rich bitch who’s never done a proper day’s work in her life.’
‘You said that. I didn’t.’
‘But you think it,’ she snapped.
‘If the cap fits, Miss Montgomery...’
Justine was genuinely taken aback. She opened her mouth to tear some more strips off him, then closed it again. She supposed he had a point. She was a spoilt little rich bitch. And she hadn’t done a proper day’s work in her life. Not for her living, anyway. But she wasn’t useless. And she certainly wasn’t lazy.
Suddenly it was important for her to prove that to this man who thought he knew it all! Her chin lifted and she set determined eyes on him.
‘I challenge you to give me a chance to prove you wrong, Mr Osborne. Give me that loan and give me six months. If I don’t meet my repayments during that time then I’ll sell up the house and call it quits. Six months, Mr Osborne,’ she repeated. ‘It’s not much to ask for. As I mentioned before, the house is worth over a million. You’ve got nothing to lose.’
‘You really think so?’ he said archly.
‘Yes, I do. Look, I promised myself once I’d do anything for this loan but beg. And I won’t beg now. But if you don’t give me that loan, Mr Osborne, I hope you go to hell and burn there for all eternity!’
He laughed. He actually laughed. Justine just stared at him. For while he was laughing his face had been transformed from that of a cold-blooded devil to a wickedly attractive one. His black eyes gleamed and that hard mouth was softened by a display of dazzlingly white teeth.
‘Very well, Miss Montgomery,’ he said, a disturbingly charming smile still playing on his lips. ‘I know when I’m beaten. Come to the bank first thing Monday morning and we’ll work something out.’
Her mouth actually dropped open. ‘You mean that? You honestly mean that?’
‘I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean. You can have your loan, and your six months. Though not a minute more. Make no mistake about that! Now, perhaps we should get back to the party? Our hostess will be wondering what’s become of us.’
‘Oh, I can’t stay now.’ Justine was almost too excited to stand still. ‘I have to go home and tell Mum. You’ve no idea how happy this is going to make her.’
Quite overcome with relief and joy, she rushed forward, reached up on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you, you darling man,’ she gushed, and with one last dazzling smile, whirled and fairly danced out of the room.
Marcus stood there for a long moment, then reached up to touch the spot where her lips had rested. It was moist and soft, the only soft thing about him at that moment.
He had to laugh again, both at his fierce arousal and at the girl who’d caused it.
Darling man, indeed!
He knew exactly what she thought of him. He’d seen it earlier in her eyes. They’d been as contemptuous of him as he had been of her.
But money spoke a universal language with girls of her ilk. Come Monday morning she’d be smiling at him some more, smiling and flirting with him like mad, as she had yesterday in Hampton’s office. No doubt he’d get the full force of her blinding charm now that she was going to get what she wanted.
After all, getting what she wanted was the name of the game for females like her.
But this time Marcus had every intention of getting what he wanted as well, which was the delectable and delightful Miss Montgomery.
There would be no question of bribing or blackmailing her into an affair. He would simply ask her out, as he would ask out any woman he was attracted to, then let things take their natural course.
Marcus had no doubt that Justine Montgomery would say yes to his dinner invitation, and whatever he wanted for afters. She would be keen to keep in good with her banker, especially once she saw how difficult it was going to be to make those monthly repayments. If there was one thing he could rely upon, it was that she would do exactly what he predicted.
Six months, she’d demanded. Well, six months should just about do it for him, he decided cynically.
He recalled what Felix had said that first night he’d set eyes on her.
‘You don’t have to marry the girl...’
He finally appreciated the wisdom behind Felix’s advice. H
e was so right. He didn’t If and when he ever contemplated marriage again it would not be to a girl who’d been brought up to think that a huge house was her birthright, along with a designer dress for every occasion.
Marcus wondered what she would wear on Monday. Not that lime-green dress again. Something more sophisticated, and subtle. She would want to impress him with her sincerity, and her seriousness.
Black, he guessed. Women always wore black when they wanted to be alluring without being obvious.
A knock on the study door was followed by Felix popping his head inside. He glanced around before coming into the room. ‘Ivy said you were in here with Justine Montgomery.’
‘I was.’
Felix’s eyebrows rose and Marcus smiled a wry little smile. ‘No, nothing like that, Felix. We were just discussing business. Miss Montgomery is in need of a loan.’
‘Yes, so I’d heard. Trudy told me. She also said you’d already knocked Justine back but that you’d both been in here so long she thought Justine must have moved on to plan B.’
Marcus stiffened inside while he kept his eyes calm. ‘Plan B?’
‘A back-up plan if Justine didn’t get that loan. Plan B was to find herself a rich man to marry in a hurry.’
For some reason, confirmation of Justine’s character irked Marcus more than it should have. He’d already known what she was, hadn’t he?
‘I haven’t forgotten how attractive you found her once before,’ Felix was saying. ‘I thought perhaps you might have been acting on that attraction...’
‘Sorry to disappoint you, Felix. I was only offering Miss Montgomery that loan, not seducing her.’
That’s surprisingly generous of you, Marcus, considering her less than ideal circumstances. But you don’t fool me, old chap,‘ he added, smiling lasciviously. ’You’re usually hard-nosed when it comes to banking business, but I suspect it’s passion, not compassion which has spurred you to such an uncharacteristic gesture. And she did look delicious in that red dress, didn’t she?’
‘I’m afraid I didn’t notice what she was wearing, Felix,’ Marcus said with a deadpan expression as he walked towards the study door.
Felix followed Marcus out of the room, laughing.
CHAPTER SIX
JUSTINE was kept waiting an unnervingly long time before she was ushered in to see Marcus Osborne on the following Monday morning. She must have sat in his secretary’s office for over half an hour, long enough for her to start worrying that he might have changed his mind about giving her the loan.
Trudy would have laughed at her concern. On the phone yesterday she’d inferred Justine had it made because their esteemed banker secretly fancied her. Where she got that stupid idea from, Justine could only guess. That girl was obsessed with sex. Marcus Osborne didn’t even lake her.
Oddly enough, Justine found it hard to fathom her own feelings towards him. Trudy had been way off the mark when she’d accused her of being turned on by the man. Justine was sure she wasn’t, even though she conceded he’d looked strikingly handsome in that black dinner suit last Saturday night. And kind of sexy, in that darkly brooding fashion Trudy had mentioned.
Justine had thought about him often over the weekend, with mixed emotions. She still resented his deception of the previous Friday but she had to admit she no longer hated him. How could she, when he’d magnanimously changed his mind and given her the loan? What she seemed to want more than anything, now, was to make him change his mind about her. She wanted him to look at her with respect, wanted him to see she wasn’t stupid or lazy, that she did have some character.
But she feared that was going to be hard to do. He had preconceived ideas about girls like her. She could see that. It worried her a lot that in the time which had elapsed since Saturday night Marcus Osborne might have reconsidered his impulse to give a loan to someone he obviously believed was superficial and possibly irresponsible.
Once Justine got the nod to go in to his office, that worry soared. She plastered a bright smile on her face and bravely ignored the butterflies in her stomach as she walked in.
The room was a far cry from the small walled cubicle he’d filled so intimidatingly on the previous Friday. Huge and rectangular, it was dominated by an equally huge semicircular desk behind which curved a complementary semicircle of glass.
In the middle of this circle, with his back to a view of the city skyline, sat Marcus Osborne.
He looked every inch the president of a prestigious merchant bank, his suit much more stylish than the pompous pin-striped number he’d sported for their last interview. Charcoal-grey and possibly Italian, it was a single-breasted two-piece with a sheen similar to its wearer’s sleek black hair. His tie was an elegant grey and blue stripe, his shirt as white as his teeth.
His hard dark eyes surveyed her slowly as she crossed what felt like an acre of grey carpet. Justine might have been wrong but she gained the impression her appearance pleased him, and her confidence received a well-needed push in the right direction. She was glad now that she’d taken her mother’s advice and dressed conservatively in a neat little black suit with short sleeves and brass buttons down the front. Her hair was up in a classy French roll and stylish gold earrings graced her ears.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Montgomery,’ he said from his large leather chair. ‘Do sit down.’ He waved towards the group of three smaller upright chairs facing the desk.
She beamed at him as she selected the middle one. ‘Please don’t keep calling me Miss Montgomery,’ she said sweetly as she crossed her legs. ‘I hate that kind of formality. Call me Justine.’
His smile soothed her nerves some more. He wouldn’t be smiling if he was going to knock her back a second time.
‘Delighted,’ he said. ‘And you must call me Marcus.’
‘Marcus,’ she repeated, smiling her relief at the way things were going. She could not have borne to go home today and tell her mother it had all fallen through again. The poor darling had been so excited by the good news on Saturday night. It had totally revitalised her. She’d been a real help to Justine yesterday, mucking in with the housework, and even cooking dinner. Adelaide had also promised to do all the cooking for their boarding house venture, which perhaps was just as well, Justine thought ruefully. Cooking was not her forte. Though she could always learn. She’d told Marcus she could do anything when she put her mind to it, and so she could!
‘You haven’t changed your mind, I take it?’ she asked.
‘Not at all,’ he returned smoothly. ‘When I give my word, it’s as good as my signature.’
‘That’s wonderful!’ she exclaimed. ‘I was a bit worried you might have. I suppose there are forms I have to sign?’
‘Not at this juncture. And it’s your mother who’ll have to sign, since she’s the legal owner of the house. I called you in to get some more details of your plans. First of all,’ he went on, leaning back against the leather chair, ‘exactly what contents are you going to sell to reduce the debt?’
Justine was glad she’d come fully prepared. ‘I’ve made a list,’ she said, diving into her handbag and extracting a folded piece of paper. She stood up to slide it over the wide desk. ‘There are several items of antique furniture, some eighteenth-century silver and six paintings by well-known Australian artists. I’ve put a fair price against each item. As you can see, the total comes to over three hundred thousand, though naturally some of that money would be lost in commission at auction.’
She watched with some satisfaction when his face showed surprise. ‘You have some very fine pieces of furniture here. And these paintings are exceptional.’
‘You know something of antiques and paintings?’
‘I’ve made an in-depth study of most investment methods. Really good antiques and paintings never lose their value, I’ve found, provided you don’t pay too much for them in the first place. Who bought these? Your mother?’
‘No, my grandmother.’
‘Who did you get to price the
m for you?’.
‘No one. I priced them myself.’
When his eyebrows rose, she added, ‘My grandmother was quite an expert and gave me an extensive education in art and antiques before she died.’
‘I have to admit I’m impressed, Justine. Very impressed.’
Justine shone under his compliment. ‘I’ll contact an auctioneer this very afternoon,’ she told him, anxious to impress him some more.
‘No, don’t do that. I’d be interested in buying what you have here myself. That way both of us get a bargain by avoiding commission.’
‘But that’s marvellous!’
‘Naturally I would like to see them first. Would you be home this afternoon? Say around two?’
Justine hesitated. She’d been going to sell her car this afternoon. Still, that could wait. No way was she going to knock back an offer like this! Not only would it save her a lot of work, but Marcus was right; it would save her a lot of money.
Her smile was eager. ‘Yes, of course.’
Yes, of course, Marcus thought wryly. He had no doubt she would say ‘yes, of course’ to pretty well any of his suggestions, including the dinner invitation he would smoothly slip in towards the end of the afternoon.
So far she’d been totally predictable, from the little black suit she was wearing to her whole demeanour. She hadn’t wasted any time getting them on a first-name basis, and in throwing around some more of those dazzling smiles of hers. All the contemptuous glowers of last Saturday night had been banished, her eyes stopping short of outright seduction but showing a definite eagerness to please.
Admittedly, that list with its prices attached had come as a genuine surprise. The girl knew her subject. So did he. Marcus wasn’t a fool. He recognised a bargain when he saw it.
Maybe this uncharacteristic episode in his life wouldn’t cost him as much as he’d been fearing. For of course he could not actually give her that crazy loan with bank money. They’d think he’d gone mad! He would have to finance it through his own personal pocket.
