by Penny Jordan
'Oh yes,' Colin beamed. 'In fact that's really her first love, but as I'm sure you know, we have nothing in England to rival anything such as Calvortex.'
'I believe you mentioned that you would like to use the telephone,' Jessica heard Sebastian murmuring to Colin. 'If you would care to go with my secretary, she will help you with your calls.'
As Colin followed Constancia into her office, Jessica had a cowardly impulse to beg him not to leave her alone with Sebastian de Calvadores.
'Quite a coincidence,' he observed coldly when they were alone, 'and one that makes me even more suspicious of your motives. You knew, of course, when you first met Jorge of his connection with Calvortex and from that doubtless deduced that he was a comparatively wealthy young man. For all your much vaunted feminism and independence I find you are very little different from our own women in that you are looking for a man who will support you and ease your way through life, although unlike them you do not have the honesty to admit it, nor the accomplishments to make the bait tempting, especially not to a Spaniard, who expects to find his bride pure and innocent. No wonder you went for a boy like Jorge! He is still young enough to find a certain charm in experience—of course it is expected that young men will… experiment, but you are singularly foolish if you honestly believe that Jorge would marry a woman such as yourself.'
Jessica's hand snaked out—she couldn't help it—anything to destroy that cynical, infuriating smile. But the instant her palm made contact with the lean tanned cheek, a sick wave of self-disgust swept over her. What on earth was happening to her? She had never struck anyone in anger before, no matter how much she had been provoked.
And it seemed that Sebastian de Calvadores shared her shock. His fingers touched the faintly reddening flesh, his eyes darkening rapidly to a fury that scorched and terrified her, but Jessica refused to be cowed. No matter how much she was trembling inwardly, he would never be allowed to know of it!
'Dios, vixen!' The words were breathed harshly, fastidious disgust etched in every line of the aristocratic features. 'Nobody strikes a Calvadores and is allowed to escape without retribution!'
He moved, silent and agile as a cougar, grasping her wrists and pinioning them with hard fingers that bit into her tender flesh. She tried to pull away, infuriated by her sudden imprisonment, and with a speed that left her startled and breathless she was jerked forward, the fingers that had held her wrists, biting into her shoulders, the dark grey eyes smouldering with an anger that touched off something elemental deep within her own body, mutual antagonism crackling between them.
'Cristos!'
She heard Sebastian swear and then his mouth was on hers, angry and hatefully contemptuous— the very worst kind of punishment, letting her know that she was less than the dust beneath his feet, her breasts were crushed against the fine wool of his suit and it appalled her that such a bitter and punishing embrace should still have the power to ignite a powerful sexual chemistry so that she was aware of Sebastian de Calvadores as a man in a way that she could never remember being aware of any man before. The expensive suit and silk shirt were simply the trappings of civilisation masking the true nature of a man who was still every bit as much a conqueror as his ancestors had been. He was enjoying using his body to punish her—she could sense it, feel it in the hard arrogance of his flesh against hers, forcing her to submit.
Against her will her lips softened, trembling slightly beneath the determined assault. Almost instantly Sebastian drew away.
'I am not my brother, Senorita James,' he told her sardonically. 'The warmth of your mouth trembling beneath mine leaves me cold—especially when I know that I am far from being the first man to have tasted its sweetness.'
'How hypocritical of you!' Jessica flashed back, walking unsteadily away from him. 'You obviously expect your wife, when you eventually marry, to be as pure as the driven snow, but you, I feel sure, can make no such claims!'
'Would you give a Stradivarius violin or a Bechstein piano to a mere beginner?' he mocked back, astounding her with his cynicism. 'And I think you need not concern yourself with the views of the woman who will be my wife, Senorita James. You and she will be worlds apart in your views on life.'
'Just like me and the girl Jorge is to marry,' Jessica stormed at him, irrationally hurt by his comment. 'How do I know Jorge really wants to marry this girl? How do I know it's not simply your idea?'
'Jesu Maria!' Sebastian breathed, as though imploring the heavens for patience. 'Jorge has told you himself!'
'Perhaps because you insisted,' Jessica told him doggedly, not sure why she was needling him like this, except that it had something to do with the contempt in his eyes when he had released her after kissing her. 'Perhaps I. should get in touch with Jorge myself, talk to him…'
'Never! I will not allow it!'
He looked so grimly implacable that Jessica felt a tiny frisson of fear. Why on earth had she goaded him like that? She knew she had no intention of saying anything to Jorge! And yet something seemed to drive her on, so that she shrugged and said nonchalantly: 'You couldn't stop me.'
She almost flinched when she saw the look of utter fury in his eyes; eyes that had darkened almost to black, only the pale grey rim shimmering with barely suppressed rage as he stared at her.
'You dare to challenge me?' he demanded with awesome control. 'You are not only venal, you are a fool as well!' he told her softly.
* * *
CHAPTER FOUR
'You're quite sure you'll be all right?' Colin asked her fussily for the fourth time.
Jessica sighed. 'You're going out for the evening, not leaving me on the steps of the workhouse,' she reminded him dryly. 'Of course I'll be all right, what on earth could possibly happen to me?'
It was eight-thirty before Colin left for his dinner engagement with Sebastian de Calvadores, and after he had gone Jessica leaned back in her chair in the bar and tried to relax.
Her nerves had been like coiled springs ever since they left the factory. She had alternated between longing to confide in Colin and a firm determination not to involve him in her private affairs.
Sebastian de Calvadores couldn't possibly deprive Colin of the contract simply because he employed her, surely? And yet there had been a look in his eyes just before Colin had rejoined them which suggested that he would be perfectly willing to journey to hell and back again if he thought that by doing so he could punish her.
And what better way of punishing her could there be than putting Colin's business at risk? It wasn't inconceivable if things didn't improve that Colin would be forced to let her go, and she had no delusions about herself. In spite of her qualifications and experience she would find it extremely difficult to get a job of equivalent standing.
Against her will she found herself remembering Sebastian's kiss—in no way meant to be an affectionate embrace, but rather a gesture of disdain and condemnation—her memory lingering on the hard length of his body against hers, disturbingly male.
She went up to her room before Colin returned, mentally crossing her fingers that all would go well. He had been full of optimism when he set out, and she only hoped that it was well founded.
'So how did things go last night?'
Colin looked up from his breakfast, and it seemed to Jessica that he avoided her eyes as he answered, 'Quite well. The Conde seemed very interested in my proposals.'
'Did he agree to them, then?' Jessica pressed, for some reason alarmed by Colin's hesitancy.
'In a manner of speaking, although there were certain conditions…'
'Only to be expected in view of his company's reputation,' Jessica agreed, her spirits lightening. 'What were they?'
For a moment Colin didn't speak, and several seconds later when Jessica replaced her coffee cup she found him regarding her with an expression compounded of uncertainty and appeal. Suspicion sharpened her gaze, fear sending the blood pounding through her veins. Sebastian had told him he would only give him the contract if Colin got
rid of her!
'He wants you to fire me, doesn't he?' she said calmly. 'Oh, I…'
'No, no, Jessica, it's not that,' Colin quickly reassured her. 'Quite the contrary. It seems that they're having problems with the designs for their next collection of fabrics. The Conde works on them himself with the help of another designer, whom he has recently lost to a rival organisation. As you can imagine, the Conde is most anxious to complete the work on the season's designs, and he's asked me if I would be agreeable to you working for him until this is done.'
Whatever Jessica expected to hear it was not this! For a few minutes she was too astounded to say anything.
'You see, you were quite wrong in thinking he disapproved of you,' Colin told her. 'He seemed most impressed when I told him about your qualifications. Over dinner tonight he questioned me in detail about you—where you'd trained, how long you'd worked for me. I must admit that I had no idea what he was leading up to, but it seems that Ramon Ferres had told him how interested you were in the manufacturing processes and how knowledgeable, and he confided to me the difficult situation he finds himself in.'
'But surely a firm such as Calvortex would have no trouble at all in finding a junior designer,' Jessica suggested, feeling a tinge of suspicion. Why did Sebastian want her to work for him? She couldn't understand it, especially when he had let her know how much he despised her and how determined he was to keep her away from his brother.
'Certainly,' Colin agreed, 'but it seems he's reluctant to take someone on on a permanent basis at this stage—employing someone on a temporary basis would suit him admirably, but as he admitted to me, it's very difficult to find an accomplished designer willing to be employed for a mere matter of weeks. It seems the Conde has a brother who may eventually take the place of the departed designer, but he needs a designer now to help him complete the new season's range of fabrics. It's quite an honour that he should ask for you,' he pointed out logically, 'and you've always said how much you'd like to work in textiles. It would only be for a few weeks—I should hold your job for you, of course—we can do nothing on next season's designs in any case until we know what fabrics Calvortex will produce.'
'Is your contract dependent on my agreeing to work for the Conde?' Jessica asked, frowning. She could not understand why the Conde would make such a stipulation, but if he had it could not be for any reason that would benefit her.
'Not in so many words,' Colin told her wryly, 'but I suspect if you did refuse…'
He left the sentence unfinished, but Jessica felt she knew enough about the Conde to guess at the pressure he would bring to bear on her employer. Despite her love of textiles she had not the slightest desire to work for Sebastian de Calvadores. But if she refused Colin's company might well fold. What should she do? Not for the first time she found herself wishing there was someone she could turn to for advice, instead of always being the giver of advice to others.
'What's wrong?' Colin asked her hesitantly. 'I thought you'd jump at the chance.'
'It's such a surprise,' Jessica told him, not untruthfully. 'How long would it mean staying in Spain?'
'I'm not sure. The details would have to be arranged with the Conde. Initially he is merely enquiring if I would be prepared to let you go on a temporary basis, and if you would be prepared to work for Calvortex. One other thing…" he paused and glanced at her uncertainly. 'He did suggest that he would be prepared to pay you extremely well.'
He would, Jessica thought cynically, her fingers curling into her palms, an irate expression in her eyes, and for one heady moment she toyed with the idea of telling the Conde exactly what he could do with both his job and his money. And then common sense intruded, bringing her back down to earth. Colin was watching her with a heartrendingly pathetic expression, and she knew she simply hadn't the heart to tell him she was going to refuse. It was a golden opportunity, she told herself, trying to cheer herself up; she would undoubtedly learn a considerable amount, and in years to come it would stand her in good stead to say she had worked for Calvortex, no matter how briefly, if she wanted to obtain another job.
'You'll do it?' Colin said eagerly, correctly interpreting her expression.
'I don't see that I've got much option,' she agreed' dryly.
'Good! I'll telephone the Conde and give him the good news. Doubtless he'll want to talk to you to finalise all the arrangements.'
'Doubtless,' Jessica echoed ironically. She could well imagine the sneering expression and suffocating arrogance Sebastian would adopt when he knew that she had agreed to his suggestion.
A tiny seed of doubt had taken root in her subconscious, warning her that she would regret this weakness, but she couldn't see what Sebastian could possibly do to her other than attempt to make her life a misery with his cynical remarks and contemptuous eyes, and she would soon show him that she was completely impervious to both.
Jessica had just stepped into the shower when she heard someone knocking on her door. Thinking it must be the maid with the light meal she had ordered, she shrugged on her towelling robe and quickly opened the door.
To her consternation it was not a maid who stood there, but Sebastian de Calvadores, looking cynically urbane as he lounged carelessly against the open door, his eyes slowly appraising her.
'I thought you were room service,' she stammered, feeling as gauche as a raw teenager. 'I… what did you want?'
'To speak to you. Surely Colin has already apprised you of my suggestion?'
'You want to speak about that? But Colin said you were going to telephone… at least…' She couldn't remember now exactly what Colin had said; Sebastian's unexpected appearance had thrown her completely, her thoughts were a chaotic muddle.
'Are you going to invite me in, or shall we hold our discussion here in full view of the other guests? On balance I think we would be better inside,' he drawled, walking past her and calmly closing the door.
'But I'm not dressed…' Jessica protested, hot colour storming her face as he looked her over thoughtfully.
'An age-old ploy, but one that unfortunately does not work on me. I'm immune to women who use their bodies as you use yours.'
'And yet you still want me to work for you? I should have thought I would be the last person you would want in your employ.'
'Sometimes it is necessary to give way to expediency,' he told her crisply. 'Now, could I trouble you for your decision?'
He really was the most unbearably arrogant man she had ever met in her life! Jessica thought wrathfully. Anyone with the slightest pretensions to consideration would have suggested that they meet downstairs, or at least have given her an opportunity to dress, but not Sebastian de Calvadores. No doubt he enjoyed having her at a disadvantage!
'I can't believe you want me to work for you,' she protested, wishing he would not watch her so closely. She felt like a particularly obnoxious life form being viewed beneath a microscope.
'Come, I'm sure I do not need to boost your ego by paying you flattering compliments. I am assured by your employer that you are a first-class designer. He is a man whose judgment I trust—I need a designer badly enough to be prepared to overlook certain aspects of your personality. It is as simple as that.'
'You must want me very badly if you were prepared to threaten Colin that you would withdraw the contract!'
'As I said before, it is a matter of expediency. I am already behind with work on next season's fabrics. There have been problems with some of the dyes. Primarily I am a chemist, not a designer, and the work I have had to do on this side of things has meant that there have been delays in the design end of things. Like any other manufacturer, I have deadlines to meet. My suggestion to Colin was based purely on commercial necessity. He understands this even if you don't. I am prepared to help him if he will help me, there is nothing out of the ordinary in that.'
Nothing at all, and yet still Jessica felt uneasy, as though there was something she wasn't being told; something hidden from her.
'And you will merely
want me to work for you for a matter of a few weeks?' she pressed.
'Two months at the most. Senor Weaver has said he can spare you for this length of time—the rest is up to you.' He gave a comprehensive shrug. 'I doubt that I would ever be your choice of employer—Senor Weaver obviously has no idea of your true personality—but if you wish to save his business I am sure you will see the wisdom of agreeing.'
He must want a designer very badly, was Jessica's first thought, but then he had already admitted that he did. So why did she have this nagging feeling that there was something else?
'You…' she began.
'I have no time to waste in answering further arguments,' he interrupted her with an arrogance that had her spine prickling as defensively as a ruffled kitten's. 'Either you agree or you refuse, but if you refuse, be very sure at what cost.'
It really wasn't fair, Jessica thought, shivering a little, as she hugged her robe even more firmly around her slender body. What choice did she have?
'I… I agree,' she said huskily at last, the tiny thread of disquiet she had felt earlier exploding into full-blown fear as she saw the triumph glittering briefly in his eyes.
'Most wise. So… if you will be ready to leave in the morning, I shall collect you at nine, that will leave us enough time to…'
'Leave?'
'Ah yes, didn't I tell you?' he drawled mockingly. 'I intend to spend the next two months working from my hacienda. I have… responsibilities there, and the peace and quiet of the hacienda is more conducive to design work than the factory. Besides, it is there that I have my laboratories where we experiment with the dyes.'
'I'm not going with you.'
'Oh, but I think you are,' came the silky response. 'Only five minutes ago you told me that you were prepared to work for me. Surely the mere fact that you have learned that you are to be a guest in my family home instead of living alone in a hotel cannot be the reason for this sudden turn-around. Think of Colin,' he told her hardily, 'think of your own future, just as I am thinking of my brother's.'
