Just the thought of spending a weekend with Mark Rider in a hotel was enough to make her shake with nerves, but she pushed that Achilles heel away from her, refusing to dwell on the deep channel that buzzed continually between her and her disturbing boss.
Picking up the phone, she punched out Stephen's office number.
'Extension seventeen,' she clipped out coolly to the receptionist, and a moment later the line rang and Stephen answered it.
Quickly, Caroline outlined the details of her conversation with Mark, taking great care to omit the way he'd looked at her, and the way she always responded to those penetrating grey eyes as they moved over her body.
'I can't believe he'd threaten you with the sack!' Stephen said incredulously. 'It's just so callous of him!'
'He knows I need this job,' she said tightly.
'But surely it would be unfair dismissal?'
'Unfortunately, no.' Caroline made a wry face. 'My contract does stipulate that business trips will occasionally be required of me and that refusal to comply could lead to dismissal.'
'But you've been there for eight months, and this is the first trip he's demanded,' Stephen said.
'Presumably, it's the first emergency.' Caroline gave a pained sigh. 'I remember being over the moon about the salary he was paying me. Now I can see why I'm paid so well.'
'Because you're expected to drop everything at a moment's notice and rush off to talk to a jittery client,' Stephen agreed sadly. 'Yes, I suppose his demands are reasonable, looked at in that light.'
'Yes...' Caroline frowned a little. 'Maybe I've reacted badly to this. I was—well, a little rude to him.'
'Were you?' Stephen laughed. 'How did you dare, Caroline? He's one of the most ruthless-looking sharks I've ever met!'
'He's a complete bastard!' Caroline said thickly, gripping the phone with white knuckles. 'I certainly don't envy any of his women! I can just imagine how he treats them!'
Her heart leapt a little with fear and excitement: she was facing a weekend alone with the electric cable. What would it be like to be with him for a weekend under such intimate circumstances?
Stephen was obviously thinking the same thing. 'I hope it is just business, Caro,' he said suddenly. 'A weekend alone with him --'
'Of course it's just business!' she reassured him huskily. 'Mark Rider definitely doesn't—want anything from me. It's a genuine business trip, and I'll be back on Sunday to reassure you of that.'
Later, when Caroline had said goodbye to him, she sat for a moment and thought about their conversation. So she wasn't the only one who was aware of Mark's powerful sexual interest in her.
Getting to her feet, she went to his office and knocked calmly on the door.
'Come in!' he drawled coolly, and she opened the door to find him surrounded by paperwork, his jacket off, his tie loosened at the throat as he worked at his desk.
Caroline raised her gold-brown head, face haughty. 'I've telephoned my fiancé to cancel my weekend plans. I will be accompanying you to Cornwall.'
He studied her for a second, then his mouth moved in a cool, cynical smile. 'Good,' he said softly. 'Leave here at eleven, go home and pack. I'll pick you up at midday from your flat.'
'My address is --'
'I know your address, Caroline,' he murmured, and the use of her Christian name sent a quiver through her as he leaned back and let his grey eyes drift insolently over her body right down to her slim ankles and high black heels.
Caroline gave a curt nod, and left the office. Her skin was prickling all over. She leant on the door, listening to her thudding heartbeat.
He's going to try to kiss me once we get to Cornwall, she thought, and her pulses clamoured violently at the thought of that hard, ruthless mouth on hers. Fury shot through her. He can try all he likes! I won't be used to satisfy his sexual curiosity about me, and there's an end to it.
The flat was strangely silent as she let herself in. It was also freezing cold. She shivered, went to her bedroom and packed a small suitcase, selecting various clothes, a nightdress, silky lingerie and two reliable day dresses.
At midday, a black Bentley turbo drove up outside, and her pulses leapt as she stared down at it, heard the discreet throb of power as Mark guided it skilfully to a standstill and switched off the engine.
She went downstairs with her suitcase. As she opened the door, he was walking coolly up the path. His black hair flickered around his tanned forehead.
He was wearing a black cashmere coat over that grey business suit. 'Ready?' he mocked softly, and she shivered as she heard the unspoken question in his voice, and knew deep inside that there was far more to this weekend than met the eye.
But she couldn't say it. So she just nodded, and clipped out, 'Yes!'
He smiled lazily, his grey eyes slid to her mouth, and then he took her case, walked with her to the car, and stowed it in the capacious boot before striding round to the driver's side.
Caroline breathed in the scent of the expensive upholstery, waiting for him in the passenger-seat, and when he slid in beside her she felt her pulses hammer like wildfire, watching him through her lashes.
The engine flared and they drove away.
'How did Stephen take it?' Mark drawled coolly as they sped on to the M4 via the Chiswick roundabout.
'He wasn't pleased,' she said, brows lifting.
'And his parents?'
'Luckily, he hadn't confirmed the arrangement with them.'
Mark nodded. 'So he didn't end up looking a fool in front of them. That's good.'
She said on an angry impulse, 'Well, Mr Rider, you surprise me! You're not completely callous, after all!'
'Not completely,' he drawled, laughing under his breath, and the car shot out of London at an incredible speed as Mark relaxed at the wheel, one strong hand resting on the console beside her, making her very aware of those long fingers.
They drove in silence for a while.
Suddenly, Mark said, 'Thought about a wedding date yet?'
Her face grew haughty. 'I haven't really had time...'
'A woman in love doesn't need time,' he told her tightly. 'She just needs the dress, the church and the honeymoon.'
'I think you're being rather too black and white about it,' she said defensively. 'There's a lot more than that to be taken into account with a wedding.'
'Such as?'
'Well...' She racked her brains, aware he was trying to make it look as though she did not want to marry Stephen. 'Trying to arrange our schedules to fit together, trying to --'
'Comparing Filofaxes!' he mocked. 'How romantic!'
'You're just being unkind, Mr Rider!' she said tightly. 'And --'
'You'll have to stop calling me Mr Rider,' he said with a frown. 'My name is Mark.'
She looked through her lashes at him. 'I thought I was to call you sir—or you'd teach me a lesson.'
He laughed softly, glancing at her through those hooded eyelids. 'I was referring to office politics. But we're not in the office any more. Are we? So new game rules apply.'
'Is this a game, then?' she asked tightly.
'Just call me Mark, and we'll get along much better.'
Caroline felt a tremor go through her and looked away. 'I can't possibly call you Mark. I'm your secretary. You're my boss. It wouldn't be appropriate.'
'We've known each other for eight months. I'm not a stranger to you.' He flicked her a cool look, asked, 'Do you think of me as Mr Rider?'
Caroline studied him through her lashes. 'I don't understand...'
'When you think of me,' he enunciated coolly, looking back at the road, 'do you think of me as Mr Rider or Mark?'
She moistened her lips, hesitating.
'Don't tell me you think of me as "sir"!' he drawled with mockery in his steel eyes. 'Or I'll stop the car and kiss the life out of you, little Miss Shaw!'
Hot colour flooded her face and she caught her breath audibly, staring at him, her lips parted and her heart drumming with sudden violence.
&nb
sp; Mark smiled slowly at the look on her face. 'And that's something we both know I've wanted to do for a long time,' he said softly, 'so don't tempt me.'
Caroline couldn't speak for a moment. It was true and they both knew it and the electricity flashing between them in the car made her breasts ache suddenly as her nipples erected and she had to look away from him, her heart drumming.
She said in a constricted voice, 'I think of you as Mark.'
His lashes flickered. 'Good.'
He was demanding personal talk. She felt as though she was in danger and stared out of the window, wishing she could turn this powerful Bentley around and go straight home.
'So,' Mark drawled a moment later, 'tell me how you met Stephen.'
Her head turned. 'How I met him... ?'
'We've got a long drive ahead of us,' he said coolly. 'We've got to talk about something.'
'We could try talking about the Rachey account!' she said through stiff lips. 'That is, after all, what we're here for, isn't it? To settle some unfinished business?'
'Oh, we're here to settle unfinished business, all right!' he said tightly, and the look he shot her through his carved lids took her breath away.
'I'm talking about the Rachey account,' she said through dry lips.
'We'll settle all unfinished business, Miss Shaw,' he said softly, 'when we reach our hotel!'
Her mouth trembled and she said thickly, 'Turn this car around at once! I want to go back to London.'
'Don't give me orders, Caroline,' he said with steel mockery. 'I rather think that's my job—don't you?'
'Only in a professional capacity!'
'We'll soon see about that,' he said softly and shot her a cool look. A smile curved his hard mouth and he laughed at her shocked expression, then drawled, 'Tell me about Stephen. You said you met him sue months ago...?'
Caroline's lips tightened. 'I don't want to discuss it with you!'
'I know.' His smile wag lazy. 'But I'm your boss and I'm driving this car, and you, Caroline, will do as I say!'
She felt rage flood her, burst out angrily, 'Stephen was right! You are a ruthless shark!'
'Oh, yes?' he said, eyes narrowing. 'What else did he say?'
'That you --' she began angrily, and then broke off, biting her lip and looking away. It would hardly be a good idea to tell him Stephen thought he fancied her.
'Mmm?' He flicked a sardonic look at her. 'Carry on. I'm all ears.'
Her lips tightened. 'It doesn't matter!'
He laughed softly. 'Don't worry. I think I can guess.' He looked back at the road, eyes narrowed. 'So how did you meet him?'
'You're not going to give up, are you?' Caroline snapped thickly.
'You catch on fast,' he drawled mockingly.
Her mouth tightened. 'I met Stephen one Sunday afternoon in the grounds of Chiswick House...' she found herself saying, and told him the story of Stephen's Labrador eating the picnic.
'And he took you out to dinner,' Mark guessed, eyes narrowed.
'Yes,' she said in surprise.
'Did he kiss you?'
Anger flooded her veins. 'Mr Rider, you're being personal again!'
'And you're being deliberately impersonal,' he said tightly. 'Now, call me Mark, or I'll pull over and make you.'
She swallowed, mouth tight with anger. 'All right, then—Mark!'
'So obedient!' he mocked, laughing at her. 'And you're right, I'm being personal. Accept it and answer my question. Did Stephen kiss you on your first date?'
'No!' she said angrily, green eyes flaring. 'I wouldn't let him! Does that satisfy you?'
'Oh, very much so!' he murmured. 'When exactly did he kiss you?'
'On our third date, if you must know!'
'You held him off that long?' His brows rose. 'You're a smooth operator, aren't you? It can't have been easy. When did he first try to take you to bed?'
'My God!' she erupted furiously, fire flashing from her eyes. 'You insolent bast --'
'Let me give you a word of advice, Caroline!' he drawled tightly. 'Never call me insolent unless you want to provoke a little more than a kiss out of me.' He studied her angry face and laughed under his breath. 'It makes me want to show you just how insolent I can be. Got that?'
Her body tingled with that fearful excitement again, and she looked away, saying thickly, 'Got it.'
'Good girl,' Mark said, mouth hard. 'Now carry on with the story. When did he first try to take you to bed?'
'Stop it!' she exploded, hatred flashing from her eyes. 'You already know too much about me! I can't stand you knowing anything about me! Anything at all! I can't even stand you near me! I can't stand the way you look at me, the way you make me feel, the way --' She broke off, appalled, a look of horror in her eyes.
His black lashes flickered. He sent her a deadly grey look and the expression in those silver eyes made her heart miss several beats.
'Well,' he said under his breath, 'that just about tells me everything I need to know. Doesn't it, Caroline?'
Caroline looked away. She felt as though she'd been staked stark naked to an ant-hill: exposed suddenly, vulnerable and defenceless, and she bitterly regretted coming on this trip.
He was going to make that advance on her, that advance she had been preventing for eight long months, and suddenly she didn't believe she would be able to hold him off.
CHAPTER THREE
The hotel was perched high on a cliff like a red stone eagle's nest. Mark guided the Bentley smoothly through the red stone gates, up a tree-lined sloping drive, and parked outside it smoothly.
'Two suites,' Mark drawled, cynical eyes inspecting the inviting mouth of the blonde receptionist. 'Mr Rider and Miss Shaw. They were booked in my name, with this.' He handed her his gold card.
'Yes, sir.' The blonde cast admiring glances at him through her lashes, and turned to get the registration forms.
Caroline deliberately walked away, her body filled with intolerable tension. At least he had kept his word and booked separate rooms.
They rode up in the lift together, tension crackling between them. 'Here's your key,' Mark said, handing it to her, his face hard. 'Rest and relax for the next hour. I'll give you a call.'
The lift doors opened, allowing her to escape the tension. She half expected him to follow her and give her what he was so obviously promising her on this trip. But he went to the door of the suite next to hers, and went inside, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.
Unlocking the door, she went inside, followed by the porter, who deposited her case, accepted a small tip, and left.
It was a beautiful suite, with rich cream carpets, pale green couch and armchairs, a glass and gold coffee-table, and very spacious living area. Wide windows lead to a balcony, the curtains were floor-length and very expensive, and the bedroom was superb, with a vast king-sized bed and mirrored wardrobes.
Resolving not to think about Mark, Caroline went into the bathroom and luxuriated in a long scented bath. Later, she padded into the living-room in a white towelling robe and blow-dried her hair, then changed into her evening clothes.
The black dress was slim-fitting, strapless, hugging her high, firm breasts and nipping in at her slender waist and slim hips. Brushing out her long gold-brown hair, she added make-up, scent and discreet jewellery.
Then she rang room service and ordered a pot of coffee.
Studying the phone, she wondered if she could call Stephen and put his mind at rest. Resolving to pay for the call herself at the end of the trip, she dialled Stephen's home number.
'Hello, darling!' she said with a smile when he answered, and began talking, telling him what the hotel was like, and reassuring him of her safety.
When the knock came on the door, she said, 'Hang on. My coffee's arrived!' and left the phone on the sofa as she went to answer the door.
She had a shock when she met Mark's steel-grey eyes.
'Who are you on the phone to?' he demanded. 'I've been trying to call you.'
Crimsoning, she said, 'It's Stephen. I thought I'd better ring and let him know --'
'That you're safe?' His cynical mouth hardened. 'Well, I think I'll just assure him that you're not going to be safe for very much longer!' He pushed open the door, striding past her, magnificent in a black business suit with a dark red silk tie, and she could see he had showered too, his hair freshly dried, his jaw clean-shaven.
'No!' Caroline raced after him, letting the door slam.
Mark picked up the phone, steely mockery in his eyes. 'Daly? This is Mark Rider. I'm just about to --;
'Shut up!' she hissed, snatching the phone from him, her eyes blazing. 'Stephen? Yes. ..take no notice of him.'
Mark laughed derisively, watching her with a lazy smile.
'All right, darling,' Stephen's voice said from a long way away. 'But tell me you love me before you go. I miss you so much...'
'Get off the phone!' Mark drawled loudly, listening, his head close to the earpiece.
'Stephen—I'll call you tomorrow. Yes...bye!' Putting the phone down, she looked angrily into Mark's eyes.
'Very romantic!' he mocked. 'Why didn't you tell him you loved him?'
Her face flamed. 'Shut up!'
He laughed. 'Most women seem to litter their conversations with the bloody phrase ad nauseam.' His eyes were cynical. 'Thought about the wedding date yet?'
'Look—this is none of your business!' she snapped. 'We're supposed to be discussing Rachey Cosmetics!'
'I don't want to discuss Rachey Cosmetics,' he drawled, and caught her wrist, pulling her without warning on to the sofa, on to his lap, as she gave a hot gasp, heart drumming, and her hands clutched at his broad shoulders.
There was a long, intense silence. They stared at each other. Her hair was a soft cloud of silk around her face. She looked at him with hot green eyes through strands of it, her pulses thudding fast.
'Let me go, Mark...' she whispered, bitterly aware of his hard thighs against hers and of his tough face above her.
'No,' he said softly, his eyes staring into hers like fragmented steel. 'I've wanted to kiss your brains out for eight months. This is the first chance I've had and I'm taking it!'
She tried to get away from him. 'No...!'
Confrontation Page 3
