‘It’s not polite to whisper in front of others, Red,’ he said. ‘Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?’
A blush rose up beneath the surface of her skin and all Dare could think about was heat. Hot, she’d been hotter than the surface of the sun and sweeter than sugar.
‘I wasn’t whispering.’
Benson touched the back of her hand reassuringly. ‘I’ll be all right.’
She clearly disbelieved that; her eyes chilled as they met Dare’s.
‘I’ll see you later,’ she murmured to Benson in a voice that, to Dare’s ears, promised untold delights.
Benson watched appreciatively as she walked through the adjoining bedroom door before closing it behind her.
‘Beautiful, isn’t she?’
Dare didn’t blink. ‘Are you sleeping with her?’
‘Direct, as usual,’ Benson said dryly. ‘I had heard that about you.’
Dare’s patience was legendary. Right now it was also non-existent. ‘In the States we appreciate directness. So much more effective than kissing someone’s butt while waiting to get to the real issue. So, are you?’
Benson sighed. ‘Carly is a lovely young woman but you give me far more credit than I deserve. And her far less.’
Dare’s jaw clenched. ‘A simple yes or no will suffice.’
‘No, of course I’m not.’
Dare didn’t think he’d felt this sense of relief when the first dot-com company he’d invested all his teenage savings in had been valued as a unicorn in its first year on the markets.
He swiped a hand through his hair. ‘So how long do you have left?’ Because if Benson wasn’t sleeping with Carly Evans then he’d been right all along and the old guy was sick.
To his credit, his grandfather didn’t pretend to misinterpret him. ‘I don’t know. I have a brain tumour they’re hoping will shrink before they operate.’
A brain tumour? Hell. He almost felt guilty at his earlier cynicism that the old man was dying.
‘And Carly is your oncologist?’
‘No, Carly works for an agency I hired because apparently I need twenty-four-hour monitoring due to my diabetes. It’s not a combination I recommend,’ he said with a flair of black humour.
Dare frowned. ‘Why haven’t you given my mother this information?’ Because he was pretty sure she would have mentioned it if he had.
‘It’s not public knowledge yet, and I wish for Rachel to want to spend time with me because she wants to, not because I’m gravely ill.’
‘You want her forgiveness, you mean.’
‘Yes, I want her forgiveness. I behaved badly all those years ago and I’m man enough to admit it.’
‘You’ve had long enough to think about it.’
Benson acknowledged the comment with a rueful grimace. ‘You don’t pull your punches, do you?’
Dare had lived with a man who used manipulation as a hobby. He wasn’t into games as an adult unless they were inside the bedroom and even then they had to be of the pleasurable variety.
‘Here’s the thing, old man—my mother suffered for years with my father and then for years working three jobs to give me the best start in life. At any time you could have thrown her a bone but you didn’t. That makes you unforgivable in my book.’
His grandfather turned grey, but Dare refused to give a damn. If he wanted forgiveness he was barking up the wrong tree with him.
Finally Benson levered himself out of his chair and pulled an envelope out of his desk drawer.
Handing it to Dare, he sat down to wait. ‘Read it,’ he urged when Dare just stared at it. The postmark was Australia, where they had lived until Dare was six, at which time they had moved to America.
Knowing he wasn’t going to like what was inside, he skimmed his father’s handwriting, wincing internally at the shockingly angry letter that would have had the Pope thinking twice before reaching out again.
Then he saw the signature and swore; his startled gaze caught Benson’s remote one. ‘My mother didn’t write this.’
‘I know,’ Benson said as if in pain. ‘Now. I know that now. When I received it twenty-seven years ago I was too proud to question it. And to my shame, I never tried again.’ Silence filled the room as Dare stared at the nasty letter.
‘And now you’re dying and want to put everything right.’
‘It’s not exactly like that. Three months ago, before I knew my breathing issues were more serious than old age, I saw a photograph in a doctor’s surgery. It was some society event in New York and I recognised Rachel straight away. I don’t expect you to understand but after seeing her face again...nothing else mattered.’
Dare didn’t say anything while he worked through what he’d just discovered. He couldn’t imagine how he would respond if he had been in the same situation. Maybe he’d have done the same thing...
‘Does my mother know about this letter?’
Benson shook his head. ‘I haven’t shown her yet.’
‘Don’t,’ Dare decided. ‘My father spun so many stories when I was younger I spent most of my youth believing he was a secret-service operative. He used to confide in me and tell me my mother didn’t understand and it wasn’t until his death that I realised he was just a low-level conman with stars in his eyes.’ Dare sighed and handed the letter back. ‘And fortunately for you my mother won’t need to see this to forgive you.’
‘Unlike you.’
‘Yeah, unlike me.’ Though right now he couldn’t say how he felt.
His grandfather sighed. ‘A chip off the old block.’
Dare’s eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘That’s the second time you’ve accused me of being like my father.’
‘Actually, I was thinking that you reminded me of myself.’ He pulled a face. ‘Bitterness burrows deep, Dare, like a tick, and eats away at you slowly, just like a parasite.’
‘I have a great life. Nothing to be bitter about.’
‘Yes, you’ve done well for yourself. It interests me that your company is a brokerage firm.’
‘More hedge fund,’ Dare corrected. ‘I raise capital nowadays rather than trade stocks.’
‘Capital you can use to buy companies to disband, perhaps?’
Dare shrugged. ‘If the company warrants it. Not all companies can be turned around.’
‘What about BG Textiles?’
‘What about it?’
‘We’re experiencing some trouble.’
‘So I’ve heard.’
‘Heard, or helped create?’
Dare’s eyes narrowed. ‘What are you implying?’
Benson sighed. ‘If I might borrow some of your directness, someone is stalking my company. Is it you?’
Dare laughed. ‘Why would I want your company?’
‘Perhaps to seek vengeance for the past.’
‘If you were any younger, I’d deck you.’
‘It would be a nice addition to your portfolio,’ Benson persisted. ‘And you did expand into the UK this year.’
‘I opened an office in the UK because of opportunity, not vengeance. In fact I’d forgotten I even had European relatives until you contacted my mother. Whoever is after BG Textiles, it isn’t me.’
Benson took a moment before nodding. ‘I believe you.’
‘I don’t lie.’
‘I get that. And to be honest I doubted you were the type who would work behind the scenes to bring the share price down, but I had to ask.’
Which was why his illness wasn’t public knowledge, Dare guessed. If it were the share price of BG Textiles wouldn’t just fall, it would crash. ‘I hope you have some other ideas to follow up.’
‘I have some, yes.’
And Dare had no doubt the wily old goat would attempt to get to the
bottom of it when he should be resting in preparation for his operation. Not that it was any of Dare’s business. If the old man wanted to kill himself sooner rather than later that was his concern.
‘I’m sorry, Dare. If I had realised Rachel had reverted to Pearl’s maiden name and that you were—’
‘Stop there, Benson.’ His grandfather’s soft words struck like a sharp blade in Dare’s chest. ‘Shoulda, coulda, woulda—isn’t that the expression?’ he said stiffly.
Benson’s shoulders dropped. ‘Yes.’
A knock at the door broke the tension between them and Dare turned, half expecting to see Carly standing in the doorway.
It wasn’t. It was the butler asking what time Benson would like Mrs Carlisle to serve dinner.
Once the elderly butler left Benson turned back to Dare. ‘Will you stay another night with us, Dare?’
Dare looked at his grandfather’s sagging shoulders. The stuffing seemed to have come out of him and he saw lines of strain on his face. He didn’t want to stay, he really didn’t, but the old man was getting to him, despite his best attempts not to let him.
Someone else was getting to him as well and she’d no doubt be coming down to dinner.
Dinner here, dinner in London... He needed to eat, didn’t he? ‘I’ll stay,’ he found himself saying impulsively.
But first he’d head out on his bike and get some fresh air.
And if there was a lightness to his step as he headed back to his room to put on his leathers, it was only because he was finally satisfied that Benson’s intentions in communicating with his mother again were born from a genuine desire to make up for the past. It had nothing to do with the fact that his grandfather wasn’t sleeping with the delectable Carly Evans. Nothing at all.
CHAPTER SIX
CARLY FELT A sense of relief as she checked her appearance in the mirror before heading down to dinner. She had heard Benson leave his room a few minutes earlier and had almost contemplated excusing herself to eat in her room because of a headache.
Then she’d remembered hearing Dare’s death trap roar down the driveway so she knew he’d gone—without saying goodbye, thank goodness—so there was really no need to act like a coward. And she enjoyed dinner in the dining room.
Mrs Carlisle usually outdid herself with the evening meal and Carly had never eaten as well as she had since arriving at Rothmeyer House. Probably she never would again. Her beginnings, while not lacking by everyday standards, did not include household staff and a live-in cook! And Mrs Carlisle’s cooking would definitely be something she missed when she moved on to her next job.
Something she was still putting off thinking about. She knew she had to go home at some point but...was she ready to return to Liverpool again? In many ways she had loved seeing parts of her country she never had before, but travelling had been Liv’s dream and Carly sometimes wondered if she wasn’t moving around a lot in an attempt to honour Liv more than herself.
Liv who would never get to travel, never get to fall in love... Carly’s heart squeezed and for some reason Dare James’s face swam into her consciousness. How on earth she could find a man like him attractive was beyond her.
Yes, he was good-looking...manly...fit...primal... She pulled a face. If you liked that kind of thing. He was also another version of the Daniels of the world. Full of himself, arrogant, rude...and that take-charge mentality? She shuddered.
Yes, it was definitely good that he hadn’t bothered to say goodbye or try to apologise. She couldn’t have been happier to have things back to normal. And right after dinner she’d set herself up with her computer and make some definite decisions about her life. Maybe she’d move to London and really live it up for once.
Liv would surely laugh at that. Her sister had always balanced her, pushing Carly out of the house and out of her studies, or work, to go to movies or a club, giving her fashion advice and turning her hair from a layered, carroty mess into the smoother style she wore it in today.
Feeling the sting of tears at the back of her throat, Carly twisted said carroty mess into a quick knot. Liv would have hated Dare James, she felt sure. She would have said he was overbearing and obnoxious and... Carly frowned. Actually, Liv probably would have found him funny and flirtatious. She definitely would have thought that his muscles were ‘divine’—her favourite expression—and no doubt those rose-coloured glasses she’d viewed life through would have had her thinking him a hero always wanting to ride in and save the day.
Carly shook her head. Some hero coming over all macho and moving an injured child without first getting medical clearance. So, it was likely only a sprain. He hadn’t known that, had he?
The man had heartbreak city written all over his horrible face and it was very lucky he’d gone without saying goodbye because she would have told him exactly what she thought of him. She would have told him... A hot flush rose up her neckline as she remembered the way she had wrapped herself around him in the forest like an anaconda in heat.
God, how embarrassing.
But she wouldn’t think about that. The fact was he was gone and she needed to concentrate on her future. On a plan for her future. He could go jump on his white charger and choose some other woman’s heart to stomp on. Some other woman to ruin. Her lips twisted into a brittle smile. She’d been in one disastrous relationship already and the old adage held true: once bitten twice shy.
And here she was thinking about him again.
Frustrated, she closed her bedroom door and headed down the hallway. It was just that, okay, she could see the appeal he held with his athletic build, and maybe that take-charge mentality meant that he did things exceptionally well when he did them. Like kiss.
The man knew what to do with his mouth, that was for sure. He’d kissed her as if he’d owned her and she’d loved it. An involuntary shudder raced through her. The truth was, being in Dare James’s arms had made her feel incredibly soft and feminine, and, yes, if she was being honest, sexy. He’d made her feel so very sexy.
Her toes curled inside her heels at the thought. No amount of talking to herself late into the night had been able to reassure her that Daniel’s constant cheating had been merely a reflection of who he was as a person, instead of who she was as a woman. Somehow she had still felt a small twinge of responsibility for his infidelities because she’d known his libido was a lot higher than hers. He’d told her often enough.
But with Dare...
Carly sighed when she realised where her thoughts were headed again. He’s gone, she reminded herself briskly. And now she wouldn’t be distracted in her care of the Baron, nor would she be constantly on edge, looking over her shoulder for when she might next run into him. He could go throw that swaggering grin and dimpled cheek at some other poor woman and see how she liked it.
A lot, probably. Especially if he kissed her as well. Carly swallowed heavily. If he touched her breasts and did that thing with his fingers—
‘Mind if I accompany you down to dinner?’
Whirling around at the sound of his voice, Carly clapped her hand over heart as if that might stop it from flying out of her chest. Goddammit, where was a defib when you needed one?
She sucked in a lungful of air. ‘What are you doing, creeping up on me like that?’ she fumed. Her face bright red as much from the carnal thoughts she’d been having as the fright she’d just received.
Dare’s brow rose questioningly. ‘I don’t believe I’ve ever crept anywhere.’
Carly’s lips compressed together at his mocking tone. ‘Stalking, then.’
He gave a short laugh. ‘Not my style either. Maybe this is just a happy coincidence.’
Carly frowned. ‘I thought you had left,’ she said accusingly.
‘Without saying goodbye?’ His eyes moved lazily down her body, making her want to squirm. ‘Are you really so
eager to see the back of me, Red?’
Did he even need to ask? ‘You were the one who said you were going,’ she pointed out coolly. ‘And I heard your raucous death trap take off down the driveway hours ago.’
He shrugged. ‘I needed to go for a ride. Clear my thinking.’
God, did that mean he was staying?
He chuckled and she realised he’d read her expression perfectly. ‘Don’t look so worried, Red. I’m not insulted by your attitude.’
‘That’s because you have an ego the size of the Himalayas,’ Carly griped.
‘Maybe I’m just pleased to see you.’
A sharp sensation lodged inside her chest. ‘Excuse me, I’m going to dinner.’
‘Wait,’ Dare said softly, gripping her arm. ‘I have a couple of questions I want to ask you first.’
Schooling her features into a bland mask, Carly dislodged his disconcerting touch and looked up at him. ‘Like what?’
Dare glanced along the corridor before leaning towards her to speak softly. ‘Like how serious is Benson’s condition?’
She grimaced. ‘So he told you about his illness?’
He gave her a look. ‘He told me everything.’
Dare knew she got the full import of his meaning because she blushed prettily.
‘And now you’re concerned?’
He frowned at her suspicious tone. ‘I don’t know what I am at this point. But I do want to know what his chances are.’
Carly debated what to tell him and why he wanted to know. Was he going to taunt his grandfather with the information? She really wouldn’t put it past him.
‘For God’s sake, I’m not going to sell the information to the highest bidder, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘I’m not worried about that.’ She hadn’t even considered that side of things. ‘What I’m concerned with is what you’re going to say to him. His blood pressure is all over the place, which isn’t good for him. He needs to rest and not to be overstressed before the operation.’
Defying the Billionaire's Command Page 9
