by Alicia Hope
‘That’s easy,’ chortled the generously proportioned man with her, ‘One takes a sample of each!’
Royce rolled his eyes and grabbed the nearest delicacy, an oyster. As he stood absently savouring its delicious smoky flavour, a nearby group of delegates waved him over. He set down his plate and gratefully joined their conversation.
During the dinner that followed, Verity felt Royce watching her more often than was comfortable. She found his attention unnerving and tried to focus on the discussions going on around her. At one point, bored by the topics being talked about, she resorted to sipping her wine and studying the room’s décor, keeping her eyes carefully averted from Royce’s direction.
Once again, starched white linen covered each table, with shining silver cutlery, and wine glasses with swirls of gold thread, glinting at each setting. The crockery was laid for the first course—a choice of fresh watercress soup, or seafood tartlets with lemon saffron sauce—and a white or yellow rose bud sat in each bowl atop a matching plate. The candles adorning the table were lit, and their flames released a delicate, spicy fragrance. Verity relaxed as she inhaled the aroma, feeling glad the formalities were over, and grateful the meeting had gone so well.
She reminded herself to congratulate the resort’s function coordinator, for meeting or exceeding expectations on almost every score, and then recalled with a pang that Kerry had facilitated the arrangements. Verity glanced at a pair of empty seats where the Stowes might have sat, if not for.... But they would be miles away by now, winging their unhappy way home. Verity swallowed and willed herself to let the despondent feeling pass, as the waiters began serving the main course.
She found it hard choosing between the brandied quail dish, and the citrus pork with wild rice seasoning. Peppered potatoes, carrots in sour cream, and snow peas and baby squash in garlic mint butter, accompanied both. Then came another difficult choice, between tropical fruit salad served with Chantilly cream, or strawberry mousse hazelnut torte.
Afterwards, the delegates moved to the comfortable arm chairs in the restaurant’s lounge area, where they were served coffee and chocolate orange truffles. As she settled herself into the velvety embrace of a deep arm chair, Verity found herself glowing from the unexpected praise she’d received at the meeting, and mellowed by the wine she’d enjoyed over dinner. She sat quietly, a soft smile playing on her lips, unaware of what a pretty picture she made. This was not lost on Guy, however. He took a moment to admire the lovely vision, before going over to touch her lightly on the arm.
She smiled conspiratorially at him. ‘You knew, didn’t you?’
‘Now, just what is it you’re referrin’ to?’ he replied, with an impish grin.
She giggled charmingly. ‘You know, Guy, the bombshell about Royce, and all the accolades I received—which I have a sneaking suspicion I have you to thank for.’
He chuckled. ‘Whad’ya mean? Y’only got what ya deserved.’ With that, he surprised Verity by leaning down to give her a bear hug. When he straightened again, he said more seriously, ‘But I’m not the one ya should be thanking.’
‘I know, I owe a lot to Brenda for her support, and some others as well.’
‘Including the new chairman of the board? Assumin’ he accepts the position, which I’d say is pretty much a given.’
Verity noticed the intense look in Guy’s eyes as he waited for her response.
‘Well, yes, I guess Royce was helpful ... with preparations for the meeting ...,’ but her voice trailed off.
‘Yes, and more than that too.’ Guy settled into the chair beside her. ‘Ya do know who helped you with the Reardon issue?’
‘So, someone did intervene! That explains it. But you don’t mean...?’ Her startled eyes widened in disbelief.
‘Ya didn’t know? Well, let me fill ya in. He was with me in the States when he heard about the pickle you were in, and let me tell ya, nothin’—not hell nor high water—was going to keep Royce James from heading home to help y’out. Why, he didn’t even stay to finish our golf game! Just tore off to get on the next plane home.’
‘Oh ...,’ she mumbled, consternation written all over her features.
‘Yes ma-am. Remember that letter from Reardon? The one letting ya off the hook?’
‘Of course! I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read John’s resignation, especially considering the nastiness of my previous ... ahem ... encounters with him.’
‘Well, that letter would never have been written if Royce hadn’t applied some pressure in the right places.’ Guy gave a half smile, picturing Royce as a young boy in a scout uniform, solemnly swearing to always ‘be prepared’. Guy knew Royce had developed tactics well ahead of time to deal with Reardon, and despite not being appointed CEO, he’d put his carefully constructed strategy into play on Verity’s behalf.
Verity frowned at Guy. ‘Are you saying Royce did this to help me? But why? And why didn’t he tell me what he’d done?’
‘And how would you’ve taken it, if he had told ya? Would it have felt like interference, maybe?’ Guy watched as a range of emotions crossed her face and her mouth opened and closed without issuing any words.
Verity knew he was right. She recalled her reaction when Royce tried to offer assistance on his return from the US. She had virtually thrown him out of her office! Although still convinced he’d deserved the frosty reception at the time, she cringed at the thought he’d gone ahead and helped her anyway. She looked down and saw that she was rubbing her right hand, the one Royce had shaken earlier.
‘Well, I ... didn’t know....’ Pulling her hands apart and looking around quickly, she mumbled, ‘I have to thank him—’
‘Well now, don’t mind me.’ Guy smiled broadly and rose to leave, but felt her hand on his arm.
‘Before you go, Guy. Did Royce know before tonight about his nomination for chairman?’
‘Shute, Verity, you saw his reaction, same as the rest of us. Do ya think he knew?’ At the small shake of Verity’s head, he smiled and added, ‘Anyhow, what would it mean if he had known?’
She didn’t reply but gave a poignant little smile, before inclining her head and releasing his arm.
Chapter Eighteen
Verity felt she needed air. So much had happened in such a short time, her mind was full to overflowing with questions, images and sensations. And to her dismay, her hand still tingled where Royce had grasped it. She excused herself from the group she was standing with and walked over to put her empty champagne flute on the bar. With a quick glance around to check if anyone would notice, she slipped through the restaurant’s glass doors and onto the stone terrace outside.
Golden light from the room’s chandeliers followed her, and blended with the moon’s silver cast, and the dancing flames of torches mounted on the terrace. It didn’t take long for her eyes to adjust to the soft gloom, which she welcomed after the restaurant’s comparative glare.
The fresh air was cool against her skin, and the slight south-easterly breeze carried with it the now familiar scent of blooming jasmine. On impulse, Verity released the clip holding her hair and it tumbled to her shoulders, where the fragrant draught caught it up in a soft dance. She walked over to the stone balustrade and leant against it, looking skyward. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply of the night, and attempted to gather her thoughts.
So, Royce bailed me out of the Reardon case—probably the most serious threat to my hold on the CEO job to date—but only after first having a go himself at undermining my authority.
She groaned inwardly.
Why can’t he just choose a side and stick to it?
Verity opened her eyes, and studied the clouds scudding about the sky. They were backlit by platinum moonlight which shone down on her, making her skin appear luminous.
Her mind raced, trying to find a point where everything she now knew made sense.
Was Royce aware before tonight that he would be offered the chairman position? And what if he did know? Like Guy said, why would th
at matter?
She frowned.
I’m not sure, but for some reason, it’s bothering me.
So many questions. She shook her head and tried to focus on the main one—why Royce would help her, his nemesis, out of a tricky situation.
Did he find out about the prestigious job offer coming his way, and decide he didn’t need to undermine me further, that he could afford to be generous? Is that the only reason he deigned to help me, or is there another, more dangerous explanation?
She turned her attention inwards, searching among her jumbled emotions for the gut feeling she trusted above all others, and a strong sensation emerged. She was certain Royce hadn’t known about the promotion before tonight.
But, if that’s true, then why the change of heart?
All of a sudden, Verity became aware she wasn’t alone. Someone was close by. She turned to see Royce leaning nonchalantly against the balustrade, staring at her. Alarmed at the sight of him and at the intensity of his gaze, she straightened.
‘Royce! You startled me, I was deep in thought.’
About you, as it happens, she chided herself.
‘Yes, I could tell you were a million miles away.’
He moved nearer and she felt a warmth seep into her, like the comforting, wholesome warmth of Reg Edward’s home. Verity blinked. What was going on here?
When Royce turned again to lean on the balustrade and gaze into the garden, she was grateful for the break from his close scrutiny. She could feel herself once more drawn to him, like a moth to a bright candle. Another question, one she’d been avoiding for a while now, floated close to the surface of her conscious mind. She gave a shiver and crossed her arms to rub her shoulders.
‘Cold?’ Royce moved closer still, and made as if to take off his jacket.
‘No ... just ... no, thanks.’ Verity shook her head, and waved away his offer as she moved further along the balustrade to put more distance between them. Something was happening she had to control, and she could only do that if she didn’t let him get too close.
David’s accusing face danced before her eyes.
It never pays to let anyone get too close.
She blinked again and drew upon her internal reserves. ‘I’m surprised to find you out here, Royce. I thought you would’ve been inside, lapping up all the praise?’ She was dismayed to hear a cynical note creep into her voice, an unconscious defence against the effects of his proximity.
He threw a curious half-frown her way, and took his time replying, all the while gazing intently at her. ‘I could ask the same of you.’
His voice was lulling her, it was so rich, so deep, so....
Snap out of it!
Royce turned to look over the balustrade once more, and Verity took a deep breath before saying hollowly, ‘Touché. Well, guess I’d better get back to the schmoozing—’
‘Verity, before you go....’ Royce straightened and reached out to take her arm as she made to pass him. She paused and looked at the strong hand restraining her. He quickly withdrew it.
‘Sorry, I just want to ... I have something....’ He bent his head as though trying to compose himself, and she paused, intrigued. Who was this man standing in front of her, sounding hesitant, insecure, and so very unlike the oh-so-smooth Royce James?
Her steady gaze didn’t waver as he lifted his eyes to hers again. She saw a sort of grim determination settle on his features.
‘I never got the chance to thank you properly for saving me on the dive, Verity.’
‘Don’t mention it. I just did what any diver would’ve done.’
‘No, that took real guts, and if not for you, I probably wouldn’t be standing here now.’ He swallowed and gazed at her with tenderness in his dark eyes. ‘And I know the trouble didn’t end there, that you had to handle an investigation, and deal with Kerry. All right before going into your first EC meeting, where you somehow managed to put in a flawless performance. I take my hat off to you.’
‘Well, thanks.’ Verity gave a wry laugh. ‘But it was far from flawless.’
‘Not from where I was sitting.’
Verity dipped her head and gave him a tight smile, and then made as if to walk away again.
Royce hastily went on, ‘And I also wanted to thank you for supporting my project proposal.’ He was sure he sounded a little desperate, and grimaced in the darkness.
Verity stopped in her tracks. Standing very still, the only movement about her person the sway of her satin skirt in the breeze, she fixed him with an assessing gaze.
‘Once again, there’s no need to thank me. I think you should know I wouldn’t have supported your project if there’d been the slightest reason to doubt its viability. Which I had to determine for myself,’ she said, a harsh note creeping into her voice, ‘having not been involved in the project from the earlier stages.’ She eyed him critically.
Royce lowered his gaze to the ground to hide a pained expression, saying, ‘Look, I’ve done some stuff I’m not proud of. I told myself that all’s fair in corporate politics....’ He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head and lifted his eyes to her face again, ‘but I....’ His deep voice had lost some of its intensity, and his usual self-confidence appeared to have evaporated along with it.
‘Oh yes, I know you feel you’ve redeemed yourself. But after what you did, how can I ever really t-trust you—’ Verity was horrified when her breath caught in her throat, and she hastily turned away with a curt, ‘Anyway, if that’s all, I’d better get back.’
Royce felt his inner control slipping. Her words, and the waver of emotion in her voice, tugged at his heart. This was no ice maiden, but to dismiss him like that ... why was she making this so hard? He was only trying to be ... friendly.
‘Well, actually, that’s not all,’ he drawled, moving over to take her arm again.
She gave a startled gasp as she found herself abruptly pulled to him and held strongly against his firm chest.
‘I wanted to thank you properly,’ he said, his breathing ragged, ‘and to congratulate my CEO for receiving all those well-deserved accolades from the board. So,’ he rasped, ‘congratulations,’ and before she could take another breath, he bent his head and closed his mouth over hers.
When their lips met it was like instantaneous combustion, and his arms held her so tightly she could feel his heart beating against her own. That wonderfully warm sensation, from the very top of her head to the tips of her toes, returned with a vengeance, and she felt herself completely enveloped by his arms, his body, and his scent—a heady combination of aftershave, ocean breeze, and a fine shiraz.
A part of her cursed the burning thrill tracing a hot path through her veins, and reeled at the huge liberties he was taking. But another, treacherous part, could only feel her heart racing and her whole being flooding with desire, fogging her rational mind. She felt herself melting into his embrace and yielding to his kiss, so that the strong arms encircling her no longer restrained her, but enfolded her tenderly.
But when a growing passion replaced the harshness of his kiss, and he raised a hand to cradle her head as they melted into each other, she managed to place her hands on his chest and push with all the strength she could muster. After a lingering moment, he abruptly let her go.
Suddenly released, she wobbled, weak and disoriented, for an instant. But with the burning link to him severed, her mind quickly began functioning again, and she hastened to get a grip on herself.
‘Verity, I ...,’ Royce croaked. He stopped, as though lost for words.
Verity made her eyes focus on him, willing herself to think straight.
Royce was looking at her, noticing how large and dark her pupils had grown.
‘You’re what, sorry?’ Her mouth wasn’t working like it should, and her voice sounded cracked and husky.
‘Yes ... but ... I didn’t realise before now,’ and he gave a wry smile, ‘that I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.’ He moved close to her again, taking one of her arms i
n his warm hand and running his thumb along her smooth skin in a loving caress.
Verity was surprised at what she saw written across his face. The unsure, crooked smile, the lack of composure, was very uncharacteristic of Royce.
It’s as if the kiss affected him as much as it did me ... but that’s ridiculous, she admonished herself, he probably uses these tactics with all the women he seduces.
That thought roused her. She was able to move away and respond coolly, ‘OK, so you’re not sorry for kissing me against my will. Well then, tell me Royce, what game or games are you playing at? I never know with you. First you’re snarling at me for snatching your job, then you’re all charming with offers of assistance while planning to stick a knife in my back, but the next minute you’re helping me out of a tricky situation, and now ... now you’re kissing me?’ She frowned up at him in bewilderment.
Royce dropped his arms to his side and stared at her. She stood her ground, mesmerised by the guilt and the regret she saw on his face, along with another emotion she refused to analyse.
‘You see....’ He took a deep breath and lowered his eyes as though ashamed to meet hers. ‘When I tried to go behind your back for project approval, it was because I couldn’t stand the thought of reporting to a woman who’d robbed me of a job I believed was mine for the taking. But it was also because I was sure she wouldn’t have the foggiest idea of what was good for the company.’
He raised his eyes again to look directly at her. ‘But then I found I couldn’t stand by and watch her being crushed under the corporate steamroller. At first I couldn’t understand why I should feel that way, when I was guilty of trying to make things hard for her myself, but that was before I realised she ... you ... were becoming more to me than simply a boss.’
Verity took a sharp intake of breath and gaped at him. Her mouth went dry and her heart felt like it was pounding its way into her throat. The first part of the double-barrelled question she’d been studiously ignoring was answered, although she'd never actually posed it. Her fight or flight reflex kicked in, but his next words stopped her in her tracks again.
