Six feet three, one hundred and eighty pounds, and he moved with all the stealthy grace of a jungle cat—which was precisely what he was, if his claim about New York was true!
And she was mentally burbling—she shouldn’t just be standing here like a mesmerised rabbit waiting to become his prey! Too late, she realised when Jonas pulled her effortlessly up against him, his arms like steel bands as the movement of his head lowering towards hers cut out all the light in the room and left her only darkness.
His mouth claiming hers was like an electric shock, seeming to reach every nerve-ending in her body, his lips moving possessively against hers now as she would have tried to pull away, as if he was only claiming an ownership he already knew he had.
Cassandra’s head swam at the onslaught of emotions that swamped her, swaying unsteadily against him, until his arms clamped more tightly about her, moulding the length of her body to his; every hard muscle and sinew imprinted against her much softer curves, the heat of his body burning her flesh even through the jumper she wore. But he controlled by mere strength alone, she inwardly screamed, unable to break the kiss as one of his hands became entangled in the hair at her nape, holding her captive against him while his lips plundered hers again and again.
As if aware of her mute accusation, Jonas suddenly lifted his head to look down into her flushed face, her eyes feverish with the painful humiliation of being subjected to his will in this way, a nerve pulsing wildly in the hardness of his jaw as he continued to look at her.
Her eyes widened in panic as his head lowered towards hers once again, prepared for his savagery this time, but completely lost as his lips didn’t devour but moved gently against hers, Jonas like a man sipping from a rare wine, the length of his hands gently cradling either side of her face now as he sipped again and again, slowly slaking his thirst. And, to her everlasting shame, Cassandra felt a similar thirst within herself, a burning ache she had thought she would never know again…
As if he was perfectly aware of that weakness, Jonas raised his head at that moment, his gaze triumphant as he put her firmly away from him. ‘We work very well together,’ he drawled his satisfaction of the fact, seeming unaffected by the passion that had flared so briefly between them.
Or had it? Had Jonas been even briefly affected by those languorous kisses, or had he just been proving to her that she could know passion in his arms?
Cassandra turned away with a deep sob of self-disgust. They didn’t work at all, she told herself vehemently. No one had held her since Charles had died, not really held her. Oh, there had been the little consolatory pats on the back or on her hand, from people who felt sorry for her loss, but no one had actually taken her in his or her arms and hugged her. And she hadn’t become removed from the need for human warmth and comfort as this man seemed to have over the years; rather she had hungered for that physical contact that had once been such a part of her life. Only last week she had felt that same need for someone to hold her as she fretted about whether or not she was doing the right things for Bethany, had—
Oh, God, shut up, Cassandra, she admonished herself. She had responded to Jonas—Jonas, a man she had every reason to fear! Was she so desperate for physical warmth that she had been reduced to that?
‘Don’t knock good old-fashioned lust, Cassandra,’ Jonas taunted now as he saw that look of self-loathing on her face. ‘It’s probably all we’ll have going for us once we’re married,’ he added harshly.
‘I don’t want to marry you,’ she choked; now, more than ever, she didn’t want that, badly needing to cry at what she considered was a betrayal of herself with this man, but knowing she dared not show any more signs of weakness to Jonas. She had no doubt the cynical Jonas would consider tears the ultimate in feminine wiles—and that he would despise her even more than he already did for resorting to them.
‘I’m well aware of that,’ he dismissed as he moved away, hands back in his trouser pockets. ‘I don’t particularly want a wife either—’
‘Then—’
‘But I do want those shares, Cassandra,’ he continued hardly, his expression grim now. ‘I also want to be in a position to secure the future of my niece.’
‘Bethany…?’ Cassandra frowned at him.
‘Yes—Bethany,’ he said grimly. ‘I don’t think you are capable of offering her security any longer. Are you?’
He knew. Had somehow found out just how desperately in debt her business had become. How had he found out? God, the same way he found out everything else, she mentally berated herself; he was Jonas Hunter, wasn’t he?
‘And I’m not about to let you use your power over Bethany’s shares to bail yourself—or your business—out of the mess it’s in,’ he told her grimly.
He actually believed she would somehow try to deprive Bethany of the shares left to her by Charles; it was too ridiculous for words! And yet she could see from the uncompromising set of Jonas’s mouth that he really did believe she was capable of doing that to her own daughter. What a family he thought them to be—her father an embezzler from his own company, she not above stealing from her own child when it transpired that the husband she had married only for his money—according to Jonas!—hadn’t left those shares to her and so left her in a position to help her ailing company!
It would be laughable if it didn’t all have such serious repercussions.
Jonas said, ‘Your father wasn’t averse to stealing from his own partner and son-in-law, let alone the other shareholders, so why shouldn’t you—?’
‘That’s enough!’ Cassandra told him coldly, golden eyes as hard as the metal they resembled, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. ‘Whatever you may think of me, I know I would never do something like that to Bethany.’ She shook her head, wishing she could dismiss his accusations towards her father as easily. But if she did, what then? It was that uncertainty that kept her silent on that subject. But if she remained silent this man was demanding she marry him…!
She looked at Jonas now, fear in her heart at the harshness that was such a fundamental part of him, knowing that to marry him would be like selling her soul to the devil—at his price!
How could she marry him?
How could she not?
Jonas wasn’t actually giving her a choice, not an acceptable one, at least. It was a straightforward exchange as far as he was concerned—marriage to him, with her ten per cent of Hunter and Kyle to be handed over to him, in return for his silence, and providing for Bethany’s future, something that had, she had to admit, been troubling her deeply since she had realised just how serious things were financially. A lot of it, she knew, was due to Charles, and his philosophy that tomorrow could take care of itself. There was no money left to pay for anything! All she had left to sell was her shares. And this man wanted those in return for his silence concerning that diversion of company funds. But would his silence be enough?
She put her head back challengingly, disturbed to find he had been watching her with those piercing black eyes as those thoughts flittered and warred in her mind. ‘How is my marrying you going to make any difference to those—discrepancies you’ve discovered in company funds?’ She frowned warily. ‘I would, surely, only be buying one man’s silence,’ she added with deliberate insult for all the times he had done the same thing to her.
‘If the money your father—borrowed—’ his mouth twisted disgustedly ‘—is returned to the company before the end of the year, no one will be any the wiser, and the other shareholders will never have to know what was going on.’
Cassandra’s frown deepened. ‘Are you saying—you could do that?’
He looked at her mockingly. ‘Does knowing I’m that wealthy make it easier for you to make up your mind about marrying me?’ he taunted.
‘No!’ she snapped abruptly. ‘I was just—surprised,’ she admitted resentfully, having no idea he was that wealthy in his own right. It made no difference whatsoever to whether or not she married him!
He shrugged dism
issively. ‘I can easily cover the—discrepancy.’
He didn’t add any more, nothing at all about the way he had made his money, although it was obvious he must have come by his wealth since going to America all those years ago; according to Charles, when Jonas had walked out on the family, he had taken nothing with him but a suitcase and his plane ticket. Cassandra was prepared to believe, from what she had come to know of Jonas, that he had made his money through white slave-trading! Although he had told her himself there were no gentlemen successfully in business in New York—so Jonas should have been very successful indeed!
She knew how much money the company was short, had known, with the way things were with her own company, that she could nowhere near cover the loss, otherwise she would have done it long before now—long before Jonas could fling such an insulting proposal of marriage at her!
‘If I’m really the mercenary little bitch you seem to think I am,’ she rasped, ‘why on earth should it matter to me one way or the other if you discredit my father in the way you’re proposing?’ She was trying to call his bluff—and maybe if her voice hadn’t broken emotionally she might have stood a chance of succeeding. Although she doubted it! She felt like a poor bird that had been put into a cage, and the door was slowly, oh, so slowly, closing behind her…
Jonas’s mouth twisted confidently. ‘A scandal like this one could rock the company very badly.’
‘So?’ Cassandra challenged with brave defiance—at least trying to beat her wings against the cage that was closing in around her, no matter how futile it was.
He shrugged, still smiling that confident smile that was so unnerving. ‘Companies have been known to crumble for less. As I’ve just told you, I’m wealthy enough in my own right for it not to bother me. I’ll just pack up my bags and return to the States, but your family, and you, would collapse like a pack of cards,’ he concluded dismissively.
He had made his point, crystal-clear. ‘And Bethany; what would happen to her?’ After all, he had made it obvious he thought she would try to cheat her own child; what good would he be doing Bethany if he ruined the company and there was no inheritance for her, especially when her mother’s company was on the point of collapse too?
His mouth tightened at the gibe. ‘I would take care of Bethany,’ he ground out savagely. ‘In my own way. On my own terms,’ he added hardly.
Cassandra felt a shiver of apprehension down her spine, not even wanting to contemplate what his ‘terms’ would be. What she did know, didn’t doubt for a moment, was that Jonas was more than capable of carrying out his threat.
She swallowed hard. ‘You were wrong about me, Jonas—Oh, yes, you were,’ she insisted heavily at his derisive snort. ‘And about so many more things than I could ever hope to convince you of. But they weren’t what I was talking about when I said you were wrong about me.’ She straightened determinedly, feeling as if she had a heavy weight on her shoulders that was slowly trying to drag her down. ‘I am going to say “this is so sudden, Jonas”,’ she sighed wearily, running a not quite steady hand across her furrowed brow. ‘I need time to—to think about—all that you’ve said to me today.’
‘Time to consider your options?’ he scorned—knowing she couldn’t have any, or she would have used them by now!
‘Yes,’ Cassandra said defensively, tears clouding her vision at how vulnerable she felt.
Damn Charles, for leaving her like this, for not providing for his daughter at least! Oh, God, she groaned inwardly, what good was blaming Charles going to do? He was dead; she was the one who would have to take care of Bethany now. But she couldn’t just meekly agree to marry Jonas, had to at least think about what she would be letting herself in for by becoming his wife.
His eyes were narrowed, his expression implacable. ‘How much time?’
As much time as it took, she wanted to scream at him! This was the rest of her life they were talking about here. She hadn’t expected it to be ecstatically happy, but she had at least thought she would be left in peace to enjoy Bethany and her career. Her career had already gone, and if she married Jonas he would infiltrate every part of her life with his dominating presence, wouldn’t allow her any peace at all with his constantly mocking remarks. But, at the same time, what choice did she have…?
She might know she was being inescapably drawn into a living nightmare, but she certainly didn’t have to leap into it without at least trying to find other options first!
‘I’m not sure,’ she dismissed awkwardly, having trouble thinking at all at the moment. ‘At least until after Christmas—’
‘I’ll give you until Christmas Eve to give me your answer,’ Jonas cut in determinedly. ‘I want to announce our engagement at Christmas, and the wedding to take place by special licence by the New Year—’
‘So soon?’ she gasped, eyes wide with horror. A week—he was only giving her a week to decide on the rest of her life, two weeks before she would have to become his wife!
His mouth twisted as he easily read her emotion. ‘A big society wedding wouldn’t be appropriate in the circumstances—thank God! And if I straighten out the company accounts before we’re actually married you may just decide to call off the wedding in the hope that I won’t do anything about those discrepancies then!’ he said knowingly.
Colour flooded her cheeks at the ease with which he was able to read her thoughts; she had frantically been searching for some way she could agree to his proposal and then delay things until she could find a way out of this mess. Although she already knew there wasn’t a way; hadn’t she been having the same desperate thoughts about repaying that money for almost a year now, growing angry with Charles once the shock of his death had worn off? It might have been all too easy to love the charmingly irresponsible man he was, but it wasn’t helping to provide for Bethany and herself now. And she knew she just didn’t have the resources to do it herself either.
And this man did…
The first she had learnt of the misappropriation of funds from Hunter and Kyle had been when Charles told her of it shortly after her father’s death. She had been dumbfounded, totally at a loss to know what to do, but, with his usual optimism, Charles had been confident that they could weather the storm—given time. But he hadn’t been given time, had been dead himself two months later. And Cassandra had been living in fear ever since, desperately afraid that Jonas would discover what had been going on, while at the same time knowing someone would have to in the end. There was just too much money involved for it to have passed undetected for much longer…!
Maybe she should have gone to Jonas in the beginning, not let it get to the stage where he could blackmail her like this; she should have appealed to him to help her find some way out of the mess before the other shareholders had to be told. But without Charles beside her, his certainty always that things would work out, she hadn’t known what to do. And now it was too late to do anything…
‘Charles knew, didn’t he?’ Jonas suddenly rasped harshly, his narrowed gaze levelled on the paleness of her face. ‘My God, of course he knew,’ he said in sudden realisation. ‘That was what killed him, wasn’t it?’ he accused incredulously. ‘Wasn’t it, Cassandra?’ he repeated with savage intent, grasping the tops of her arms now as he attempted to shake an answer out of her. ‘Answer me, damn you!’ He shook her roughly.
His hands were painful on her arms, but in a way she welcomed the pain, the tears that flooded her eyes but remained unshed, blinding her now to the savage anger in his harshly etched face.
Charles had known. Of course Charles had known; how could he not know? He and her father were partners. And they had remained so even after the confession had been made, the two men having come to a decision that they would sort out over the festive holidays what could be done to salvage the loss. In fact, they had been working on it in this very house during the evening before Cassandra’s father was killed on his drive home. Cassandra had been numbed by the tragedy, but Charles had been devastated, not knowing where
to turn now to look for a way out of the mess. Which was when he had confided in Cassandra. Like a confused little boy, he had come to her to help find a solution, looking for answers she didn’t have either.
‘Answer me!’ Jonas demanded fiercely, black eyes glittering as he shook her once again.
Cassandra looked at him blankly for several seconds. ‘Yes,’ she finally choked. ‘Yes, it was what killed him!’ she cried in anguish.
Because she had never doubted it, not for moment; she knew it had to have been the strain that had brought on Charles’s heart attack at such a young age.
Jonas’s hands dropped away from her arms as if they were burnt, a look of utter disgust on his face as he judged—and found her guilty!—once again.
This man who thought he knew so much…
CHAPTER FIVE
‘SIMEON never stood a chance, did he?’ Joy said knowingly, Cassandra and Bethany having called at the house on Christmas Eve to deliver their presents—and, unknowingly to Bethany, to collect her gifts too so that she had them delivered with her others by Father Christmas in the morning. Marguerite was even now outside supervising the gifts being stowed away in the boot of Cassandra’s car.
Unfortunately, Joy hadn’t yet left for her evening out with Colin; and Cassandra, although she wished it were otherwise, had no doubts as to what her sister was referring to. She gave a pointed look of warning in Bethany’s direction as her daughter occupied herself placing the gifts for her aunt and grandmother under the grandly decorated tree that stood at one end of the elegant sitting-room.
‘Perhaps we can discuss this some other time, Joy,’ Cassandra suggested firmly.
Her sister gave a derisive smile. ‘It’s a little late in the day to be discussing anything, I would have thought!’
Cassandra gave her a sharply querying look, forgetting Bethany for the moment as she saw her young daughter was busily examining other gifts under the tree now, totally absorbed in what she was doing. ‘What do you mean by that?’ she softly prompted Joy into an explanation for the enigmatic remark.
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