by Rebecca Heap
He didn't look at her as he said, “Look, he just wanted me to check that you were OK. I'll go and order you a cab and then I'll be out of your face.”
Kate was utterly confounded by this and her anger began to re-surface. She grabbed his arm. “Hey, don't apologise and then go and do exactly the same thing!”
He looked at her then and she read something in his face that made her heart beat faster and the blood burn in her veins. His golden eyes seared into her as he whispered, “Don't you know what effect you have? You only have to look at me and I am bewitched.”
He glanced down at the hand holding his arm and said slowly, “You'd better let go of me. If you don't, you’ll only have yourself to blame for the consequences.”
She dropped her hand from his arm as if she'd been scalded and stared at him in utter astonishment. “I think it's better if we don't meet again,” Michael said, roughly. “I can't afford to risk letting an unhealthy attraction to you spoil the relationship I have with your father.”
He walked away from her, confirming that he would call her a taxi.
Kate continued to gape after him.
She spent a sleepless night, turning her bedsheets into a confused muddle, as she tried unsuccessfully to make sense of both Michael's reaction to her and her own stirred up feelings. It was as if his outburst had been like an electric shock to her system and this made her feel strangely furious and elated at the same time. As dawn broke on her tired face, she realised that she wanted to see him again, despite his determination to have nothing to do with her. She couldn't deny that part of the reason for this was because she was attracted to him and she’d thought this kind of attraction was something she would never feel again. But also, after everything she’d been through, it infuriated her that another man was trying to control what she did.
CHAPTER 14
Michael sat in a lap dancing club with Harry on one side and two of his most loyal employees on the other. He sipped his drink and feigned interest in the naked young women gyrating around the poles in the middle of the floor.
One of the men sitting with them was Sebastian and Michael noted the way his eyes avidly moved over the girls glistening bodies as he unashamedly rubbed at his crotch. Sebastian suddenly looked his way and Michael was unable to disguise the contempt in his eyes. He quickly slapped an agreeable smile on his face, but Sebastian glared at him with unfiltered animosity. For both men, it had been loathing at first sight. Sebastian hated the way Michael had so easily won Harry's approbation and there was something else that bugged him about the man, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Perhaps it was the man's jarring American accent or his unconventional good looks. But most of all, it was just an unshakeable sense that he could not be trusted.
Harry turned to Michael saying, “Do you like these girls, Mick? You don't look very impressed. Is this too tame for you or is it perhaps that you prefer them a little younger?”
His coal black eyes assessed Michael as he asked this and he reminded Michael of a spider waiting to strike. This felt like some sort of test. Was it possible that the survival of their business relationship could rest on the answer?
Michael met his gaze unflinchingly. “I was raised by a strict Catholic family so sexual freedom was discouraged.” He watched Harry's eyes narrow at this but he continued unperturbed. “I'm rather conventional in my tastes but I don't think anyone should be made to suppress their natural predilections.”
Harry smiled slyly, “Quite so, Michael, quite so.”
Michael hoped he had given the right answer. Harry lit an expensive cigar and blew the smoke out of the side of his mouth, still watching Michael like a predator eyeing up its latest prey. He appeared to abruptly change the subject.
“We've made some good deals together, haven't we Mick?”
“Yes, we have,” Michael answered, wondering where this was leading.
“We've made some good money, haven't we?”
Michael replied again in the affirmative. “I knew we would,” he added confidently.
“How would you like to make a lot more money?”
This was evidently a crucial question. “It depends,” Michael answered.
“On what?” Harry asked, taking another deep suck on his cigar.
“On how easy it is and on how big a cut I get.”
Harry laughed loudly at this and slapped Michael on the shoulder. “I knew from the start you were my kind of guy! How would you feel if I told you that in comparison to the money you'd make, it's as easy as pie.”
“Sounds too good to be true,” Michael answered. “I take it we're not talking strictly legal here. And, knowing you Harry, I'd bet it's nothing so mundane as drugs. ”
“Mmm,” Harry murmured non-committally.
Michael risked speculating further and continued with “I'd also rule out weapons. You don't strike me as a man who would deal in destruction when you clearly appreciate the beauty of things. Which leaves me only one answer.”
“And what's that?” Harry challenged.
Michael made a sweeping motion with his arm, encapsulating the room with this gesture. “Sex,” he responded.
Harry grunted. “The business done in this place is a far cry from anything I would associate with.”
“Sex is sex, isn't it?” countered Michael.
Harry appeared offended by this remark. He gripped his arm and leaned close to him, to whisper harshly in his ear. “Selling sex is sordid. I sell something much more refined, much more exclusive.”
“You intrigue me,” Michael responded mildly.
He now sat back, eyeing Michael speculatively, and seemed to change the topic of conversation yet again. “Divorce. Have you ever been through it, Michael? I’ve no experience of it myself but it’s a nasty business. Even with a pre-nup the wife gets far more than she should expect. After all you make a pre-nup in the full flush of love. You don’t want to hurt her feelings.”
Michael chose only to say “Never been through it, Harry. Simply haven’t been able to devote enough time to any relationship.”
“Ah! Your business comes first. Commendable Michael. There are men, prosperous men, however, who succumb to marriage. They naturally want to please the woman in their life and to stamp their claim to her. Unfortunately for them, they end up paying dearly for it.”
Michael murmured in assent, muttering “Women can be fickle creatures.” This encouraged Harry to continue.
“I give them a solution, Michael,” he continued enigmatically, pausing to let Michael consider what this might be. Michael narrowed his eyes in concentration and chewed over what he had said, sensing he was about to discover the answer to a puzzle he had long been troubled by. The bespoke car business was profitable but he was convinced Harry had a side-line in view of his very affluent lifestyle.
“I take it you provide a woman? In other words, I was right to start with.”
“Correct, Michael,” he conceded, waving his cigar, nonchalantly. “Not that it took a genius to work it out, but I don’t just sell them the temporary satisfaction of sex. They could get that easily enough for themselves. I sell a much fuller package. I provide the companionship, commitment and devotion they seek, without the risk of an expensive and messy divorce. I get paid a lot of money as a result. Of course, the terms are much more favourable than marriage, and the costs are a fraction of what they would pay in a divorce. Everyone’s happy!”
“Is the woman happy?”
Harry guffawed at this. He then recovered himself and smiled. “Of course! She is treated well Mick and given a life of comfort. How could she possibly complain?”
“In essence then Harry,” he queried, “these women are mistresses? Why would these men pay you for something they could secure so easily for themselves?”
“Ah!” said Harry, “but even mistresses are costly and difficult to get rid of once they find a foothold, often looking for some commitment. This arrangement precludes marriage and involves a single, one-off paymen
t. What’s more, we do the leg-work of finding the woman that fits their requirements exactly–no cutting corners, no second best, no making do.” He smiled smugly after this pronouncement.
“So, it’s an expensive dating service?”
Harry scowled, seeming affronted at this suggestion, but then broke into a laugh. “I suppose you’re right!” he acknowledged. “To an extent, that is. We have strict eligibility criteria. It’s not open to any Tom, Dick and Harry. And we guarantee 100% compatibility and satisfaction with the first offering. If not, we will look at providing a replacement free of charge, providing there’s an immediate and valid complaint - but that is very rare.” His face inexplicably darkened at this last declaration. He lapsed into silence and appeared to be dwelling on something unpleasant.
“Very much a public service then Harry, huh?” prompted Michael.
Harry liked this and his mood brightened again. He looked around for a waitress, but not immediately spotting one, turned to Sebastian saying “Get this man another drink!”
To Michael he said, “We've had a prosperous and legitimate business partnership for some time now, Mick. I like you. I know you have a knack for bringing in customers and I believe you deserve to have a share in this venture. It's much like our bespoke car business, it's just the commodity that's different. What do you say?”
Sebastian had been sitting glaring with antipathy at Michael, as if resentful of Harry taking him into his confidence. He remained belligerently where he was after Harry’s directive. Harry suddenly noticed this and broke off to abrade him. “What are you playing at? Didn’t you hear me?”
Sebastian’s eyes blazed. “I’m not his bloody waiter!”
“You’ll do exactly as I say, or get out of my sight.” Sebastian showed no signs of moving. “For good,” added Harry sternly.
Sebastian rose grudgingly to his feet, but Michael actually motioned him to sit back down. “I’ll go myself. I need to visit the men’s room, anyway,” he said. “I’ll get us a bottle of champagne, celebrate a new business alliance?”
Harry smiled. “Great! Come to my office next week, Mick. Make arrangements through my secretary. We’ll discuss the details then. Make sure you’re in a position to make a decent capital investment. I want you tied in as soon as possible.”
“Sure thing,” returned Michael as he left them.
Harry surveyed the room, his eyes coming to rest on one of the more voluptuous dancers. “Now let’s start having some fun,” he rubbed his hands, “and leave business to look after itself.”
Sebastian still seethed resentfully. The man had made him look a fool and ingratiated himself further with his boss in the process.
He risked haranguing Harry. “How do you know you can trust him? He’s a fucking Yank. The Yank’s only ever look after their own interests.”
Harry tapped his nose, “I’ve had him checked out Sebastian, don’t you worry. I’ve been looking for a partner and Michael could offer us a way into America.”
His face then abruptly tightened and he grabbed Sebastian’s hand and ground out his now spent cigar into its tender underside. Sebastian struggled, but failed to pull away and yelled in pain.
When Harry finally released him, he snapped “Don’t you ever question me again. Do you hear? And if you ever embarrass me again in front of an associate you’ll have more than your fucking hand to worry about.”
CHAPTER 15
It was some time before Kate got the chance to see Michael again. She didn’t know where he lived and, even if she had, she couldn’t exactly go storming round there to challenge him about his bizarre attitude towards her. Then a thought came to her. She worked for the altruistic arm of her father’s company and she was responsible for organising the Christmas charity ball. Michael was bound to be someone her father wanted to invite so she asked Harry for his contact details and added him to the guest list. Having sent him an invitation, she was tempted to follow it up with a phone call but was worried that he would deliberately avoid attending anything to do with her.
The ball was being held in the Premier Suite of the city’s top hotel and many local business people, dignitaries, footballers and other VIPs were in attendance. The large room was decorated with miniature Christmas trees, fairy lights and garlands. Kate was satisfied that it gave the place the right seasonal effect without being too ostentatious or tacky. The band playing on the stage, who had donated their services for free, was clearly being appreciated and Kate should have been feeling happy and relieved. She’d treated herself to a long designer dress, cut low at the back. It was a shimmering sapphire material that fitted her beautifully. It flattered her slim figure and revealed a tantalising glimpse of leg as she moved. She’d received many compliments, on her own appearance as well as that of the venue. However, although her father had made the effort to make a brief appearance, there was no sign of Michael and so she felt unreasonably disappointed.
Most people had arrived and she was due to give her welcoming speech. She waited a little longer but the food was due out and prize draws were soon to be announced. Making her way to the small podium at the front of the room, she launched into her formal opening address.
As her eyes moved around the room, she caught a flicker of movement at the back. She felt the heat rising to her cheeks as she recognised the latecomer entering the room: it was Michael. She privately berated herself for being affected so easily. However, she could not prevent the perceptible pause in her words when she spotted the woman who had entered with him and whom he was attentively guiding towards an empty seat. The woman’s tall figure and golden hair were unmistakeable; she was the famous ex-wife of a top class footballer.
She managed to finish her speech without any obvious hiccups but her mind was a maelstrom of warring thoughts. How did he know that woman? What was she to him? But then she rebuked herself. So he had a girlfriend – so what? He’d been bloody rude to her and made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her. Why had she let herself get so unsettled by him? She’d better put him out of her mind and start making the most of the evening.
She began making her way around the tables, speaking to the guests, checking that the food and drink was up to scratch and generally attempting to be a convivial hostess. She pointedly avoided Michael’s table, but couldn’t help catching him out of the corner of her eye. He was clearly enjoying himself; talking animatedly to the other people on his table and laughing at a whispered comment from the blonde bombshell beside him.
She walked towards the bar area, the dazzling smile on her face belied by the hands clenched stiffly by her sides. She only noticed she had been doing this when she reached the bar, lifted an arm and spotted the deep crescent marks her nails had made in her palms. She sighed. What was wrong with her?!
She mentally shook herself, forced the smile back on her face and allowed an old friend of her father’s to buy her a drink, ignoring his slightly surprised expression when she ordered a double brandy. She let the cognac trickle it’s warmth down her throat but she still felt like an icy hand had a determined clutch on her innards. Her disconsolate mood was worsened when, as she scanned the room, her blue eyes met the rapacious gaze of Sebastian.
She looked away quickly but it was too late. He bore down on her, put his arm round her possessively and whispered in her ear, “Let’s dance.”
Before she had time to try and resist or voice any protest, he had her on the dance floor and was whirling her round. When he pulled her towards him, his grip on her was so fierce it was painful. He ground himself against her at every opportunity, so she could be in no doubt about how concupiscent he was. She closed her eyes, willing the song to end quickly so that she could escape his libidinous manoeuvres and his vice-like embrace.
The song seemed to go on forever and when she did open her eyes again, it was to find Sebastian’s face advancing on hers, clearly moving in for an uninvited kiss. She wasn’t certain what happened to her after this. As with the dress, this seemed to trigger
something hidden in her subconscious. It was as though an unseen wave had crashed over her, as she heard the blood rushing and thundering loudly in her ears.
Sebastian’s face transmogrified in front of her eyes, melting like wax, first into that of her kidnapper and then into that of a leering monster. She screamed as the apparition faded and lights burst in her vision. She didn’t faint completely but she found herself on the floor, semi-conscious, with tears streaming down her pallid face.
There was some commotion and she heard someone growl, “You stay away from her, you bastard!” She had a brief image of Sebastian, his eyes blazing murderously over a hand held to his nose with blood trickling out between his fingers. Then she was gathered up in some powerful arms and carried out of the room.
When she allowed herself to look at her “saviour”, she wasn’t too astonished to discover it was Michael. He wasn’t looking at her but was looking straight ahead, as he navigated some stairs. She lowered her eyes though, abashed. Whilst she had secretly wanted to meet him face to face again, she certainly hadn’t planned on grabbing his attention in such a melodramatic way.
Michael had pretended to ignore Kate’s presence, just as he had on first meeting her. However, even whilst chatting and socialising, his eyes had been drawn to her as if pulled by a magnet. When he noticed her on the dance floor being mauled by that brute of a man, it took all his strength of will not to get up then and there and intervene.
Kate seemed to be tolerating Sebastian’s “dancing” though and he knew he couldn’t very well abandon his companion and barge in there like a dog on heat. When she screamed however, all his already highly alerted instincts went into overdrive. He didn’t pause to ask questions but just threw his fist into Sebastian’s face, assuring himself that this came from necessity. Refusing to acknowledge either the primal satisfaction this gave him or the realisation that this would certainly put a seal on their enmity.
