Confrontation

by Sarah Holland

  Mark flicked a cynical smile at Stephen. 'You don't mind, Mr... ?'

  'Daly.' Stephen got to his feet, extending a hand. 'Stephen Daly.'

  'How do you do?' Mark drawled, flicking a mocking look at Caroline as he shook Stephen's hand. 'Do excuse us...' His hard hand slid to the small of Caroline's back, propelling her inexorably towards the small dance area close to the piano.

  He turned her as they reached it, and his strong hands slid slowly on to her waist, raising prickles of excitement in her as she looked up at his hard face and felt her mouth go dry.

  'Well, Miss Shaw!' Mark drawled softly. 'It seems you can't keep secrets all the time!'

  She flushed hotly. 'Stephen wasn't a secret!'

  'Of course not,' his voice said above her head. 'And I'm sure you would have told me all about your engagement first thing in the morning!'

  Caroline looked up at him angrily. 'I would have worn the ring!'

  'And avoided all my questions,' he said, his mouth moving in a hard smile. 'But at least now I know why you've refused all my invitations. I take it you've been seeing him for a year or so?'

  'No,' she said, avoiding his eyes. 'Six months.'

  His body tensed and she could sense his anger as he drawled tightly, 'Just six months? So you met him after you came to work for me?'

  'Yes,' she said, dry-mouthed.

  Those strong hands were on her waist, and they were tighter now, as Caroline rested unsteady hands on his chest and felt his heart beat with rage.

  'That's a lovely dress, Miss Shaw,' Mark said softly, an edge of steel in his voice as he looked down at her through carved lids. 'It makes you look quite unbearably sexy. What does your fiancé do?'

  'He's chief executive salesman for Baker Plastics,' she said hotly.

  'A plastics man!' he drawled tightly. 'When's the wedding?'

  Her face flamed. 'We haven't set a date yet. I'll need time to think about it. Marriage is such a very big step.'

  'Marriage is for fools!' he said in a voice like steel, and then he met her gaze and gave a slow cynical smile, drawling, 'Forgive me, Miss Shaw! Just a personal opinion!'

  'An opinion I don't share,' she said flatly, 'or I wouldn't be marrying Stephen.'

  'Well, I thought you weren't marrying him,' he drawled. 'I understood there was some problem. Something yea needed time to think about... ?'

  Defiantly, she lifted her chin. 'I've only been seeing him for six months! I can't just marry him without thinking about it! After all—six months isn't very long.'

  'It is if you want to go to bed with someone,' he said, eyes like knives as he looked directly into hers, and she felt breathless, aware of the anger in him, and the accusation.

  'Stephen isn't like that!' she snapped. 'Neither am I!' Then caught her breath in horror, whispering, 'I mean --'

  'I know what you meant, Miss Shaw,' Mark drawled mockingly, and then the music stopped. He led her back to her table, a hard smile on his mouth. He exchanged a polite sentence with Stephen, then strode back to Venetia Blake, who was glaring at them.

  Caroline felt shaken, disturbed, angry. She said to Stephen, 'Shall we go? It's late and we both have to go to work tomorrow morning...'

  They drove home in Stephen's saloon. He parked under the tree outside her flat, and turned to her, drawing her into his embrace and sighing into her cloud of dark gold hair. His kiss was warm and gentle, almost childlike, and Caroline received it patiently until he was ready to release her.

  'Wait.' He held her as she tried to leave. 'About this weekend. I wanted to ask you earlier, but I just forgot. My parents want to meet you. I thought we could drive down there on Saturday?'

  Caroline paused, studying him. 'Of course I'll come, Stephen.'

  'We'll have to stay the night, of course,' he warned. 'In separate bedrooms, naturally, but York is a long drive, and we'd be exhausted if we tried to do it there and back in a day.'

  Caroline smiled. 'Thank your parents very much for the invitation, and tell them I'll be delighted to come.'

  'It'll be like giving you a new family,' he said, stroking her hair tenderly.

  'That's very sweet of you, and I'm sure it will eventually be true,' she said, 'but my own family were wonderful. Even if they are all gone now. And I only ever had my parents, Stephen. No siblings—remember?'

  'Not even a cousin,' he said sadly. 'Poor Caroline.'

  'No sympathy, darling. Fate deals the cards and we just make the best of them.'

  'It must have been a terrible shock, though, when they were killed in that car crash.'

  She sighed and nodded. 'It was. But that was three years ago, Stephen, and I've come to terms with it.'

  'Still, it will be nice to give you a second family. And I'm sure you'll get on well with mine, darling. They're so looking forward to meeting you, and they're really very nice people.'

  'They must be,' she said, smiling. 'You're their son.'

  But later, as she let herself into her flat, she felt intolerably confused. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly. Stephen had obviously saved all this up in order to wait and see if she accepted his proposal, and, although she could understand that, she couldn't quite take it all in.

  Looking at her engagement ring, she felt a sudden pang of anxiety. If she was in love with Stephen, why had she spent the entire evening unable to take her mind and eyes off Mark Rider?

  And why did he make her feel so excited...so afraid...?

  CHAPTER TWO

  Next morning, Caroline arrived at the office feeling tense with apprehension. Mark's behaviour last night had alarmed her. He had always probed for personal information with her, but he had never been quite so direct.

  Caroline didn't like giving out personal information about herself. It made her feel vulnerable and ill at ease. At boarding-school, confessing secrets to the other girls had been dangerous. Teenage girls habitually made and broke friendships at the drop of a hat. Whenever Caroline had confided personal secrets to friends, they had eventually been spread all over the school with malicious giggling behind hands. In the end, she had simply stopped confiding in people. She had never confided in her parents—they were just never around. Besides, they weren't really interested in her life, and any confidences would have been indifferently received.

  Hanging up her coat, she smoothed down the smart black skirt suit she wore. It outlined her figure, but was severe, starkly classical, and her hair shimmered against its velvet black lines.

  She went to her desk and sorted through the mail. The intercom buzzed. Blinking at it, Caroline felt her pulses race, and leaned forward to depress the key.

  'Yes, sir?' Her voice was cool, remote, professional.

  'Come through, Miss Shaw,' Mark said softly, and there was a thread of menace in his voice that made her heart miss a beat. Going into his office, she saw him seated at his desk, relaxing with his hands behind his dark head as he watched her, his eyes moving in leisurely inspection of her slender shape.

  'The mail, sir,' Caroline said coolly, walking across the deep-pile cream carpet and placing the envelopes on his vast mahogany desk.

  He smiled like a lazy tiger, flicked his grey eyes to her face and said softly, 'Sit down, Miss Shaw.'

  Caroline moved to the chair opposite him, sank down on it, watching his tough face through her lashes. He wore one of his expensive grey suits today. It was impeccably cut, as all his clothes were, and the taut waistcoat gleamed with a gold watch-chain. White cuffs accentuated his tan as they peeped out from beneath grey sleeves. The dark red silk tie was coolly knotted at his strong throat. He looked irresistible, sexy, powerful, self-assured ... and very dangerous.

  'I'm afraid something's come up,' Mark said coolly. 'Jack Rachey is trying to pull out of the deal I set up for him last month. I got a fax through from Rachey Cosmetics, ten minutes ago.' He handed her a print-out. 'It's a delay on signing the contract.'

  Caroline studied the fax with a frown. Rachey were one of the biggest cosmetics ma
nufacturers in Europe. They held the cheapest end of the market, selling good cosmetics at very low prices.

  'I want to keep the Rachey account,' Mark said flatly.

  'I can't believe he's trying to pull out.' Caroline lifted her head, still frowning. 'He was so enthusiastic. And he loved the art-work and story-boarding. What on earth can have made him change his mind?'

  'Fear of the unknown?' Mark arched black brows. 'Jeffers and Jeffers have had the Rachey account for ten years.'

  'But they've grown stale lately.'

  'Right,' his hard voice agreed. 'And that's why he came to us. A fresh look at an old product.'

  'What are you going to do?' she asked.

  'I'm going to go and get his signature on that damned contract,' he drawled. 'What do you think?'

  'Next week?' she asked, pen poised over her pad. 'Shall I make an appointment with --?'

  'No,' he said flatly. 'It'll have to be done immediately. Cancel all my appointments from eleven o'clock this morning.'

  'Right.' Caroline jotted that down on her notepad.

  'We'll go home and pack a few clothes,' he said softly, watching her face, 'then drive to Cornwall. We should get there at about --'

  Slowly, she had lifted her head, meeting the thrust of his steel eyes. 'We?' she asked carefully. 'Did you say we...?'

  'Well, of course,' he murmured, watching her intently. 'I'm going to need you with me on this one, Miss Shaw. You've worked closely on the account from the word go. Nobody knows all the details as well as you.'

  'But...' she could barely stop staring into his tough face '.. . but Mr Rider, I can't go to Cornwall with you!'

  'This is an emergency, Miss Shaw.' His eyes narrowed, his voice hardening with implicit threat. 'I must insist you accompany me.'

  'Sir, it's just not possible!' Her mouth was faintly dry. 'Apart from anything, I don't really see why you need me with you at all, and --'

  'You know everything about the account from A to Z,' he told her in a tough voice. 'You're practically my personal assistant, and Jack Rachey took a fancy to you the minute he met you.'

  Her lashes flickered. 'You're asking me to come along as a hired flirt?'

  'Why not?' he drawled with an edge to his voice. 'You're good at it.'

  Annoyance sparkled in her eyes. 'What do you mean, good at it?'

  'Promising everything. Giving nothing.' His eyes were narrowed and his mouth hard. 'Isn't that the art of flirtation, Miss Shaw?'

  She stared tensely, aware of the steel in his voice. That was a very personal and knife-edged comment for a girl to get from her boss. But this was no ordinary boss, and theirs was no ordinary working relationship. They had both been aware of that from the outset. Now Mark Rider was forcing it out into the open.

  'At any rate,' Mark said coolly, 'I need you with me. Can you be ready to leave by midday?'

  Carefully she asked, 'Jack Rachey lives in Cornwall, doesn't he?'

  He inclined his dark head, watching her with a hard smile.

  'So we would only have to be away for one day?'

  'Oh, no,' he said softly. 'We'd have to stay at least until Sunday.'

  'Then I can't come,' Caroline said in a cool, professional voice. 'I've already made arrangements for the weekend and I can't possibly cancel them.'

  'What arrangements?' he asked in a hard voice.

  'Stephen is taking me to York tomorrow to meet his family.'

  The air suddenly seemed to vibrate with an undercurrent of violence as Mark looked at her, his face very hard. 'So he's taking you home to meet his family, is he?' His mouth hardened. 'How very tedious of him. I suppose you're looking forward to taking tea with his mother while she shows you the baby photographs!'

  Her eyes flashed. 'You're being insulting, Mr Rider!'

  'And you're being very unprofessional,' he drawled. 'I don't pay you to do what you want, Miss Shaw, but what I want. This is an important business weekend and I insist you accompany me.'

  'But surely you can see it's impossible?' she said angrily. 'This isn't an ordinary weekend for me. I've just got engaged to this man. I've agreed to meet his family. It would be unforgivable of me to let him down at the last --'

  'Would you prefer to be fired?' he cut in flatly.

  The threat took her breath away. Fury shot through her, turning her eyes a very fierce green. 'You'll fire me,' she asked in a tightly controlled voice, 'if I refuse to accompany you to Cornwall?'

  He smiled slowly, eyes mocking. 'It is stated clearly in your contract that you must accompany me on any business trip, regardless of circumstance, even if it is at the drop of a hat.'

  'Yes, but this is grossly unfair!' she said furiously. 'You know perfectly well that my recent engagement puts a very different light on the terms of that contract.'

  He laughed softly, enjoying her rage. 'Are you raising your voice to me, Miss Shaw?'

  Her mouth tightened. She struggled to control herself. 'I'll have to ring Stephen and tell him I can't go. What do you suppose he'll think? What would you think in his position?'

  'That you were backing out,' he drawled with open mockery.

  'Is that why you're insisting I come with you?' The question shot out before she could stop herself.

  His smile taunted her. 'Now would I do such a thing?'

  'Yes,' she said tightly, 'I believe you would.'

  Mark laughed softly. 'Are you accusing me of deliberately trying to put a spanner in the works?'

  'Yes!'

  'Come now, Miss Shaw,' he drawled, 'you're being unprofessional again. I realise this is an inconvenient time for a business trip, but such is life. You signed that contract, you get all the benefits—and now you're coming face to face with the drawbacks.' His brows arched. 'This is one of them. Just accept it. Cancel your weekend with the plastics man and come to Cornwall with me.'

  Caroline looked at him with loathing. 'Kindly stop referring to my fiancé as "the plastics man".'

  'But that's what he is.'

  'I'll start calling you the advertising man, then, shall I?' she snapped.

  'You'll call me sir,' he said softly, 'or I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget.'

  Her breath caught. The statement had a ring of sexual threat, as did his eyes, his ruthless mouth and his smoky voice. Caroline had no doubt whatever that he was capable of carrying it out and a throb of excitement leapt in her body at the thought of it.

  Drawing an unsteady breath, she said with a flash of anger in her eyes, 'When do you need my answer?'

  'Within the next hour,' he said flatly, and glanced at his watch, crisp white cuffs shooting back to expose the tanned skin and hair-roughened wrist. 'It's just gone nine. We'd have to leave here at eleven, fling some clothes into a couple of cases, and be on our way to Cornwall by midday. I've already arranged dinner tonight with Rachey.'

  This was a nightmare, but she had to go through with it, although her voice was tight with open rage. 'Where would we be staying?'

  'At a hotel,' he said coolly, and smiled cynically, adding, 'Separate rooms, of course.'

  'I wouldn't even consider it without separate rooms,' she snapped, hating him.

  He gave a cynical smile. 'Good. I'd hate to think you were an easy conquest.'

  Caroline leapt to her feet with a burst of fury. 'How dare you?' She threw her pen and pad on to the desk, shaking. 'My God, if you seriously think I'm coming to --'

  'Temper, temper!' he drawled, laughing, and got to his feet, striding around the desk to her, towering over her with a gleam of mockery in his eyes. 'And I thought you were such a cool, calm young lady.'

  Heart leaping, she struggled for self-control. 'What did you mean by that remark?' she demanded, breathing erratically. 'Is this really a business trip, or --?'

  'It's a business trip,' he drawled mockingly. 'And my remark was a piece of male chauvinism.'

  She breathed easier, but her heart was still thumping. 'Badly chosen words, Mr Rider. It sounded very much as though you had an ulterio
r motive for this trip that has nothing to do with Rachey Cosmetics.'

  The grey eyes were penetrating. 'Now why should you think that?' he asked under his breath.

  Wary excitement stirred in her. She watched him through her lashes, silent.

  'After all,' he said with a slow, dangerous smile, 'you've made it more than clear that you wouldn't be interested in a more personal relationship with me.'

  Her lashes flickered. Slowly, her eyes moved to that ruthless mouth and a quiver of excitement went through her.

  'You've refused countless invitations,' he said under his breath, his powerful body very close to hers, 'and given no indication that you find me attractive.'

  Her eyes shot to his face, desire blazing in them.

  He met her gaze with equal sexual excitement. 'Have you, Miss Shaw?' he asked softly, accusingly, unsmilingly.

  She was breathless. She couldn't reply. The electricity between them was intolerable. They both knew it. Shivers ran through her at the thought of what would happen if they ever kissed.

  'You have fifty-five minutes to make up your mind about this trip to Cornwall,' Mark Rider said under his breath. 'I suggest you use them wisely.'

  'I'll be in my office,' she said, her voice husky, and he gave a cool nod, eyes narrowing as he watched her walk out of the luxurious office and back into her own.

  As she closed the door, she felt the tingles of electricity run over her skin and looked down at her hands to find them shaking. Drawing an unsteady breath, she walked to her desk.

  I find him frighteningly attractive, she thought, eyes closing briefly. And he knows it. But he's a complete bastard where women are concerned—and I'm not letting him anywhere near me.

  So now what was she supposed to do? She couldn't afford to lose this job. Her rent was bad enough, but the expenses of electricity, food, petrol—if she lost just one month's wages through being fired, the whole thing would collapse.

  It was intolerable even to consider what life would be like if she was fired. She couldn't ask Stephen to support her, and Liz didn't earn enough to lend her more than enough to buy a hamburger. Her parents had been dead for years, and she had no other relatives.