Читать книгу Takeover Engagement - Elizabeth Duke - Страница 7

THEY had to announce themselves and wait to be inspected through a small glass aperture before the door to Kowalsky’s opened. Lucy was bristlingly aware of the dark stranger close behind her as she stepped inside.

It was more like a cluttered workroom than a display room, though there were glass display cases in evidence. Two men, one young, the other middle-aged, were bent over work benches, doing repair work or creating new pieces in the antique style for which Kowalsky was famous. A third man, an elderly, greyhaired man wearing thick bifocals, emerged from behind a large desk. There was no sign of David.

‘Mr Travers!’ The old man looked straight past her, his rather myopic gaze lighting up at the sight of the man behind her. ‘Good to see you again. Please…come in.’ Obviously Mr Travers was a good customer here. Seeking valuable baubles for his wife? Or his mistress? Or, if he wasn’t married, for one of his women? He didn’t look the kind of man who would be without a woman in his life. More likely a succession of women, judging by the cynical lines round his mouth.

‘I’m Joe Kowalsky.’ The old man finally turned to her, obviously thinking that she was with Mr Travers. Thinking she was one of his women, no doubt. A valuable customer-to-be. I guess I ought to feel flattered, Lucy mused with a wry twitch of her lip.

‘We’re not together,’ she said quickly. ‘My name is Lucy Farrell. I was to meet a friend of mine here. David Mortimer. But the lift got stuck and—’ She let her hand flutter in the air. ‘Has he gone, do you know?’

‘Oh, dear, I’m afraid so. He waited as long as he could, then said he had to go. He seemed convinced that you weren’t coming.’ The jeweller smiled sympathetically. ‘You must have taken the lift we’ve been having trouble with lately. I think it needs a complete overhaul. I’d avoid that one going down, if I were you.’

He squinted past her at the man standing silently behind. ‘Do have a look around, Mr Travers,’ he invited. ‘We have quite a few new pieces on display.’ It was plain he wasn’t about to let a valuable client like Mr Travers slip through his fingers. Plain too that he’d already dismissed Lucy as a potential client. Her man had gone.

But politeness forced him to turn back to her to ask, ‘Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Farrell?’

‘No…thank you, Mr Kowalsky.’ She backed away. ‘I’ll be on my way. I’ll take the other lift down…as you suggest.’ She swung round, intending to slip past her companion of the past half-hour with no more than a brief nod.

‘Hey…wait. I’ll come with you.’ Mr Travers paused only long enough to throw a last word in Joe Kowalsky’s direction, ‘I’ll come back later, Joe,’ before extending an arm and sweeping Lucy out through the door.

As it shut behind them she turned to face him, aware of a wild fluttering in her chest, a rosy warmth in her cheeks.

‘There’s no need to see me down. I’ll be all right.’ She heard the faint breathlessness in her voice and tried to steady it. ‘I’ll just make sure I take the other lift this time.’

‘Maybe I want you to see me down,’ he said, his mouth curving into a grin that on any other man would have been sheepish, but on this man seemed more droll than self-effacing.

She eyed him uncertainly. Maybe his phobia about lifts really did exist after all and he was trying to hide how bad it was. But was it really so bad that he wouldn’t step into a lift by himself? She had come across people like that, who avoided travelling alone in a lift. But this man…he appeared so coolly self-possessed, so strong-minded. Not the type to give in to a phobia…or to any kind of fear for that matter. No, he’d simply dreamed up his phobia to put her at ease…to prevent her dissolving into hysterics. She’d be crazy to fall for it again.

Unless…her stomach rolled over…unless it had just been an excuse to chat her up?

Dream on, Lucy, she told herself. Suave, high-flying city business types like this man—obviously well-known and successful too, judging by the way Joe Kowalsky had deferred to him—chose smooth, sophisticated women to match. They didn’t go around chasing after sports-mad suburban working girls. And he was probably married. ‘Never get involved with a married man.’ Charlotte had drummed that into her for as long as Lucy could remember. ‘They’ll use you…make all the promises in the world…and then dump you without turning a hair.’

As they waited for the lift her companion asked curiously, ‘Did you say David Mortimer?’

Startled, she glanced up at him. Surely he couldn’t know David? ‘That’s right.’

‘The David Mortimer who works for Maxi Board?’ There was a whimsical glint in his eye.

‘Yes!’ Her surprise was evident in her voice. ‘You know him?’ She wasn’t sure why she should be so surprised. David worked for a large, well-known company. It wasn’t so impossible that the two could have met somewhere. It was just that they seemed so…different. Worlds apart, she would have thought. David, the stolid, modest-living engineer who liked tinkering with old cars. And this man, so polished and urbane, the epitome of the jet-setting, super-successful city businessman.

The corner of his mouth slanted upwards. ‘He works for me.’

Now she did gape. ‘Works for you?’ she echoed stupidly.

‘Well, not directly under me. He’s an engineer at one of my plants—Maxi Board’s corrugated box plant at Oakleigh. It’s part of the Travers group of companies.’

Her jaw sagged. Travers! Oh, hell. Why on earth hadn’t she connected the name? ‘You’re Case Travers?’ David’s big boss!

‘Correct.’

She flicked her tongue over her lips, her mind casting back. Case Travers…the golden boy, as David had once referred to him. The lucky only son, who had recently taken over control of Maxi Board and the entire Travers group of packaging and paperboard companies following the tragic death of his father, Nicholas Travers, Maxi Board’s founder. David had told her all about it, and she’d read about the tragedy in the papers. Nicholas Travers and his wife Sophie had both been killed instantly when their Lear jet had come down in a violent storm over the Warrumbungle Ranges.

‘I’m sorry…I—I had no idea who you were,’ she faltered. ‘I…It must have been shocking for you…losing both your parents like that.’

Nicholas and Sophie Travers had been happily married, she recalled David telling her, for more than forty years. Which, for a workaholic like Nicholas Travers, who’d been away from home so much, building up his business empire, had struck her as pretty amazing. To be happily married for so long…It had almost brought tears to her eyes, tears of regret that her own parents’ marriage hadn’t been happier, hadn’t lasted the distance. She had never dreamed, right up until the day her mother and father had agreed to separate, that their marriage would ever fall apart.

‘Thank you…that’s kind of you.’ Case Travers nodded briefly. ‘After you,’ he said as their lift arrived. ‘Let’s keep our fingers.crossed, shall we?’ He tossed her a wink as they stepped in.

She gave a quick smile, still slightly stunned by the revelation that he was David’s el supremo—Maxi Board’s big boss. Despite David’s snide comments about sons with silver spoons in their mouths, he’d conceded that Case Travers had a brilliant mind, and impressive qualifications for the massive empire he’d inherited. He’d starred at university, then later amassed further qualifications and business experience overseas, before working his way up from the lowliest position in the family business until he was familiar with all aspects of the various Travers companies.

But—she eyed him critically—it was still inherited wealth. An inherited multinational business empire. He’d hardly started from nothing, or built up the business from scratch by his own endeavours. He’d probably been spoilt rotten all his life, had had everything he’d ever wanted. And he was probably insufferably selfish and conceited as a result—under that sexy, charismatic, ravishingly charming facade.

‘So it was David you were to meet here today,’ Case remarked on the way down. ‘What was the occasion? It’s not your birthday, is it?’

‘No…nothing like that. He…’ She hesitated, wary about opening up to this man, of all men. David’s big boss!

‘Go on, I won’t bite. He…what?’

She took a deep breath. ‘He wanted to buy me an engagement ring,’ she admitted in a rush.

‘Ah…’ Case Travers nodded slowly. ‘No wonder you were so anxious to get to your appointment on time.’ He eyed her for a long, speculative moment, his black eyes boring into her guarded blue ones, as if they were seeing more than she wanted to reveal. ‘Or…were you?’

‘What do you mean?’ she breathed, her palms feeling suddenly moist.

‘You were running late, if I recall. It was already past twelve before you stepped into the lift, and you told me you were supposed to be meeting him at midday and that he was only going to wait until twelve-fifteen at the very latest. It strikes me that maybe you were dragging your feet because you wanted something to delay you. Now, why would that be, I wonder? Because…’ he stroked his strongly carved jaw ‘…you aren’t altogether sure how you feel about him?’

‘Oh, that’s ridiculous!’ she cried. But was it? She forced up her chin. ‘If that lift hadn’t got stuck I would have got there before David left.’

‘Maybe,’ he conceded drily, but the dark glitter in his eyes showed he didn’t believe it. ‘Well, don’t worry, Lucy…I may call you Lucy, I trust? And, please, David calls me Case—all my engineers do. You must too.’ He pursed his well-shaped lips. ‘He’ll ask you again, won’t he?’

His tone was sardonic now, the cynical lines round his mouth appearing more marked. As if he was used to female games, and thought she had been playing one with David, deliberately playing hard to get. Did he think she was holding out for a bigger and better diamond ring? Was that it?

She buried her indignation, and said with a sigh, ‘That’s just it. He won’t.’ She hesitated, then admitted, ‘That’s why I had to meet him on time. He said if I didn’t arrive by twelve-fifteen at the very latest he’d know my answer was no. And he wouldn’t be asking me again.’

Case raised a dark eyebrow. ‘So…he’d given you an ultimatum, had he?’ He spoke in a lazy drawl, his eyes narrowing. ‘And yet you were cutting it so fine that even if that lift hadn’t broken down you would have been lucky to have made it.’ He searched her face for a long moment, then asked curiously, ‘Was it his ultimatum you were rebelling against, Lucy? Or was it that you really are unsure…about whether to say yes at all?’

She flushed scarlet. ‘Neither!’ she cried, and wondered at the same time, with a stab of unease, if she was protesting too much, if that was the real reason she’d been running late.

But she was hardly going to admit it to David’s boss! ‘I wasn’t fighting against anything…I was just running late,’ she asserted. ‘People do run late, you know. When they lead busy lives,’ she added pointedly.

He obviously had all the spare time in the world. Time to visit antique jewellers in the middle of the day. Time to change his mind glibly and declare he’d be back later. Time to chat up strange women. But then, he was the big boss. He could do as he liked. It was the people who worked for him who were on the tight schedule, who worked hard for a living. People like David.

‘Not so busy that they have to miss lunch though…surely?’ came the smooth response.

She glanced up at him quickly. Uncertainly. Surely he couldn’t mean—?

‘I’ll buy a sandwich on my way back to work,’ she decided hastily.

‘You’re working this afternoon?’ he asked, waving her out of the lift as it reached ground level.

‘Of course. Why? Aren’t you?’ she asked mockingly as she stepped out into the tiled lobby.

He ignored the question. ‘What time do your afternoon appointments start?’ She felt his hand at her elbow, felt his presence close behind her as they crossed the lobby to the open doorway leading onto Collins Street.

‘Three o’clock,’ she admitted after a slight pause. Normally she had appointments from two o’clock, but today she’d put them back in case David had wanted her to drive him to the airport.

Her lip curled ruefully at the thought. For once he’d meant what he’d said. He hadn’t waited a moment longer than he’d vowed he would. Did he think that tactic would make her come to heel the next time he asked her to marry him? Or had he meant it when he’d vowed it would be over, finished, if she didn’t turn up?

‘Good. Then I’ll take you to lunch. The Regent’s closest. They’re bound to have a spare table.’

She felt a bristle of resentment at the high-handed way he was assuming she would simply fall in with his plans. For Case Travers, she mused sourly, any top restaurant in Melbourne, no doubt, would have a table ready and waiting, any time he asked.

She tossed her head, her silky hair swinging, softly caressing her long neck. ‘There’s no need—’

‘I think there is. It’s the least I can do to make up for your…disappointment today.’ She caught the slight hesitation before the word ‘disappointment’, and the faint mockery in his voice as he said it.

Damn, she cursed silently. I’ve said too much. David won’t relish his big boss knowing his personal problems. I should have shut up…or at least covered up better.

‘Why should you have to make anything up to me?’ she demanded tartly. ‘You weren’t the one who made the lift break down.’

‘True. But your…friend David works for me. And I may be in a position to put things right for you and give you another chance with him.’ He raised a taunting eyebrow. ‘If you want another chance?’

Her chin came up. ‘I can manage my own personal affairs, thank you. But…I appreciate your concern,’ she added, realising how rude the retort must have sounded.

He gave a brief chuckle. Obviously he was thickskinned enough to take it. He was probably used to dealing with abuse—and shrugging it off—in his high-powered, cut-throat business dealings. ‘Nevertheless,’ he said coolly, ‘let’s have a bite of lunch together. I think we deserve a bit of relaxation after our shared trauma, don’t you?’

She was about to refuse when she thought, Why not? It wasn’t every day she had an invitation to the Regent for lunch. And he was David’s boss. ‘I guess so.’ She gave in with a smile. She didn’t feel so sure, though, that she was going to find it relaxing. There was something about this man that made her feel anything but relaxed.

As it happened, there were plenty of tables available at the restaurant he took her to, the luxurious Le Resturant, high up in the Regent Hotel. When they had been shown to a window table, with stunning views over the city and parklands, Case said, ‘Take a look at the view for a moment, Lucy, while I slip out and make a couple of phone calls. Be right back.’

‘Fine,’ she said, thankful that he hadn’t produced a mobile phone and proceeded to use it at the table as she’d seen some businessmen do. ‘In fact…’ she edged away from the table herself ‘…I’ll just pop into the powder room and freshen up a bit while you’re making your calls.’

As they headed off, she in one direction, he in the other, she wondered idly who he was calling. His secretary? His wife? Was he the type of man who would be open and honest with his wife about taking another woman out to lunch, or would he keep quiet about it?Did he have a wife, for that matter? Or was he a free agent, on the look-out, perhaps, for a new woman in his life? She vaguely recalled David mentioning that his new chief was rarely seen out of business hours without a beautiful woman on his arm, but whether he’d meant a wife or a succession of women…Why hadn’t she taken more notice?

Her heart fluttered at the thought of this man—this sexy, attractive hunk—being on the look-out for a woman. Fool! she instantly berated herself. Men like Case Travers didn’t have to go looking for a woman. Women undoubtedly came swarming from all sides. He could take his pick—his pick of the cream of

Melbourne society, if that was his taste. Which, with his staggeringly wealthy, powerful background, was more than likely.

Before returning to her table, she paused at the mirror in the glamorous powder room to gaze for a bemused moment at her reflection…at the face that seemed to have caught his eye for some reason. Nothing too remarkable about it, really. He must know far more beautiful and elegant women he could have invited to lunch. Why was he going out of his way to spend his time with her when he didn’t have to? She’d be a fool to kid herself that it was because he was in any way attracted to her. If they hadn’t got stuck in that lift together, he wouldn’t have looked at her twice.

And yet…he had looked at her twice. She’d caught him looking at her before they’d even stepped into the lift.

Maybe she’d just imagined it, turned a glance of normal curiosity into something more. It wasn’t as if there’d been anyone else for him to look at.

Since then, of course, events had rather thrown them together. But, still, he hadn’t had to invite her to lunch…

Was it because of David? Because David was a valued Maxi Board employee? Was Case Travers the kind of employer who would feel an obligation towards his employees, particularly one of his senior engineers?

She shrugged, and swung away. Maybe, over lunch, she would find out.

Case was already back at the table, consulting the wine list. ‘French chablis suit you?’ he asked, half rising as she joined him.

‘Fine.’ She was surprised he’d even bothered to ask.

Over their Caesar salads and delicately cooked Atlantic salmon they talked of various things. Inconsequential things to begin with, like the sculpture exhibition at the Arts Centre, the beautifully restored Regent Theatre, and the thriving Southbank development along the Yarra River, which at night, they both agreed, with the reflections in the river and the old buildings enhanced by amber lighting, could be Paris or anywhere in Europe. Then more personal matters crept in.

‘Your mother lives in Brisbane, you said?’ His eyes met hers fleetingly. ‘North or south of the river?’

Her eyes flickered under his gaze. Why would he want to know that? Why would he care? ‘North. Towards the airport,’ she told him diffidently. ‘Why?’ she blurted.

He quirked a lip, brushing the question aside. ‘I guess you miss her.. Jiving so far away?’

‘Well, yes…I do miss her,’ she admitted, and paused. His eyes encouraged her to go on, so she did, though she was sure she’d see his eyes glaze over with boredom at any second. ‘And I think she misses both of us too-my brother and I. But she says we don’t need her as much as Avril does right now. And my mother’s entitled to live her own life.’

She shrugged, surprised to see that his eyes were still as sharp and intent as ever. She heard herself babbling on. ‘My brother and I are always pretty busy, what with one thing and another. Mike—my brother—is a company secretary. And a mad-keen golfer. He loves his footy too…’

‘And what else do you like to do, when you’re not treating people’s feet?’ Case asked as she trailed off. He was giving her his full attention still, as if he really wanted to know.

She would have given much to know what thoughts lay behind the fathomless black eyes…what circumstances in his life had etched the hard, cynical lines in his face. Was it everything having come too easily to him making him jaded with life and people? Then why did he seem so riveted by her mundane ramblings?

‘I compete in triathlons,’ she told him, and saw his brow shoot up. ‘I train a fair bit, especially during the season—which has finished for now until after winter. Even in winter I try to go for a swim every morning, at a public pool. And I go bike-riding. I run. I go to the gym. And, since you ask—’ for whatever reason, she thought. ‘—I like movies and plays, and when I have the chance,’ she added, her eyes twinkling defiance, ‘I like to go to the footy too.’ Case Travers would be used to his lunch companions having more sophisticated, feminine interests, no doubt. ‘I’m a one-eyed Demon fan,’ she told him, ‘like my father and brother.’

‘Well, what do you know? A Demon fan. Melbourne’s my team too.’

‘Really?’ she said politely. But I bet you don’t sit in the open stands in the wet and the cold like we do, Lucy thought. I bet it’s a corporate box or the members’ stand for you.

‘Triathlons, eh?’ He rolled the word round on his tongue. Feigning interest? ‘That entails…swimming, cycling and running, doesn’t it? Sounds strenuous.’

‘I do it for fun,’ she asserted. Believe it or not, Case Travers, she added silently. ‘I enjoy it.’ She was about to ask what he did for relaxation, but he slipped in another question first.

‘And David? He shares your sporting interests?’

She shrugged, her lashes sweeping down. ‘Not really.’ She wished he hadn’t reminded her of David. It made her feel guilty. As well as confused and unsure about her future. Would David be relieved when he found out that she hadn’t deliberately stood him up? Would he welcome her back into his life with open arms? Did she really want him to?

She blinked in shock, and felt a stab of self-reproach that the question had even surfaced. Of course she did! She’d be mad not to. David was a good man. He’d make a wonderful husband and a wonderful father and he would always be there, steady as a rock, to rely on. If she’d been getting cold feet lately, it was nothing he’d done…it was…it was her mother’s fault. The way Charlotte kept urging her to be sure…to be sure…to be sure…Until she wanted to throw up her hands and forget the whole thing.

‘He doesn’t?’ Case prompted, and she blinked again, realising he was waiting for elaboration.

‘Well…’ She might as well be frank. ‘Sport’s not really his thing. Except for going to the footie with me sometimes, when I manage to get there myself. Not that he’s madly keen. He only comes along for my sake. He’d rather be working on his cars. Restoring old cars is his hobby. He and his father are restoring a vintage Delage at present.’

‘Doesn’t sound as if you see too much of him.’

‘Well, we don’t live in each other’s pockets,’ she conceded. ‘But there’s usually some spare time at the weekends to get together. Or odd nights during the week.’

‘But not this week,’ he drawled. ‘He’s gone away, you say. On business?’

‘He’s gone to a conference. There’s a big pulp and paper conference in Surfers Paradise this week.’

‘Ah…that. Yes, of course. I recall seeing his name on the list of delegates.’ At her surprised look, he added with a sardonic smile, ‘David doesn’t need my permission. He reports to his plant manager or to my general manager, John Castle—my brother-in-law.’ He raised his glass languidly and took a long sip of his wine. ‘I happen to be going to the conference myself the day after tomorrow…just for the last day.’

Lucy’s eyelashes flickered as she glanced up at him quickly. Did that mean he would see David? He’d be bound to!’

‘Do you suppose—’ she swallowed ‘—you’ll have a chance to speak to David while you’re there?’ David was, after all, one of Maxi Board’s senior engineers. He was even giving a paper at the conference.

‘I’ll be making sure I speak to all my Maxi Board people.’

She moistened her lips with a quick sip of wine. ‘Will you…will you mention to him that I got stuck in that lift with you on my way up to meet him?’ Would he bother? No doubt he had better things to do on his only day at the conference than arrange a private conversation with one of his engineers on an errant girlfriend’s behalf.

‘I have a better idea,’ Case murmured. ‘I think he’d rather you tell him yourself.’

She flushed. Just as she’d thought. He had more important things to bother about in his limited time there. ‘I—I will. Naturally. When he gets back—’

‘That’s not what I meant,’ he slid in smoothly.

‘What—what do you mean? That I should try to ring him? At the conference?’

‘I was thinking of a more personal approach. Face to face.’ He eyed her coolly. ‘Why don’t you fly up with me on Friday and stay at Surfers for a couple of days? I have a spare plane ticket. You could patch things up with David and then visit your mother in Brisbane at the weekend. It’s only a short drive from Surfers.’

She gaped at him. He had it all worked out! Was this how he was used to operating? Making spur-of-themoment decisions affecting other people, even people he barely knew, confident that they’d fall in with his plans…as she’d fallen in with his plans for lunch?

‘That—that’s crazy!’ she spluttered. ‘I can’t just—’

‘Why not?’ He sat back indolently, his expression gently mocking. ‘Can’t you postpone your appointments for one day? Hand over any urgent cases to one of your colleagues?’

‘No!’ she cried, even as her mind leapt at the prospect.

‘You’re saying no before you’ve even thought it over. Look, you’ll have one and a bit days to organise things before we go. One weekday off isn’t so difficult to arrange, is it? And with the weekend to follow you could have virtually three days in Queensland. You’ll have time to see David and patch things up with him, time to visit your mother, even time to enjoy some tropical sunshine. There won’t be any expense. Maxi Board will cover all that. We’ve a block booking at the conference hotel. I’ll handle all that.’

He was making her head reel. ‘I couldn’t let you—’

‘But I insist. I find it’s in my own interests to keep my employees and their…loved ones happy. Why are you hesitating?’ His eyes impaled hers. ‘You do want to be reunited with David, don’t you? Or…do you?’

‘Yes, of course I—’ She broke off, then cried, ‘But not like this! I—I feel I’m being—’ She was about to say ‘manipulated’, but recalled, just in time, that he was David’s boss.

‘Steamrollered?’ Case suggested, amused irony in his voice.

She felt a rush of heat to her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry to sound ungrateful, but…’ She trailed off with a flutter of her hands.

‘But you don’t like feeling steamrollered.’ There was a grudging respect in his voice. And maybe a trace of surprise. ‘You felt your friend David was steamrollering you too, by giving you that ultimatum, didn’t you? Well, I certainly don’t wish you to feel steamrollered, Lucy…or manipulated,’ he added with the ghost of a smile, as if he’d known all along that that was what she’d been thinking. ‘But I would like you to think about it.’

The black eyes were steady on hers…compelling in their intensity. She found it impossible to look away.

‘I—I don’t have anything suitable to wear,’ she argued, and realised, with horror, that she was weakening…teetering on the edge of giving in.

A sceptical eyebrow shot up. ‘I can’t believe that. A sporty, outdoor girl like you. Not that I’d bother too much, if I were you. There are boutiques full of glamorous resort-wear at Surfers. Buy what you need when you get there. You might like to pack an evening dress, though…there’s a dinner dance the night we arrive. I’m sure David will want you to be there.’

Lucy’s mind whirled, temptation warring with a flash of resentment at his high-handed assumption that everyone had the time and the money to buy whatever their heart desired.

It was obvious that he was a man used to giving orders and making snap decisions—with money no object—and having people fall in with whatever he decided. As head of a giant enterprise like the one he now controlled, she guessed he’d have to be decisive. But that didn’t give him the right…

‘And will your…wife be flying up with us?’ she asked, eyeing him ingenuously. ‘To be with you at the dinner dance?’

There was an electric pause. She saw his mouth twist into a smile that was more derisive than amused.

‘You obviously don’t know too much about me,’ he said curtly. ‘I happen to be divorced.’

Divorced! For some odd reason that surprised her. And…disappointed her? Why was it that nobody could stay married any more? Not her parents, not her brother, not even this stunningly successful, dynamic man. Did nobody these days take marriage seriously? There were odd exceptions, of course, like Case Travers’ own parents, who’d stayed happily married, by all reports, for forty-odd years. But they were a rarity, sadly.

‘You disapprove,’ he said, his tone sardonic.

‘Don’t be silly,’ she denied quickly. ‘My own brother’s divorced. And my parents. I know it…happens. It happens all the time. Were you married for long?’ she couldn’t resist asking.

‘Two years.’ He sounded terse now, his eyes on his wine glass, not on her. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it.

But some perverse imp of curiosity drove her on. ‘Do you have any children?’

‘No children.’ His eyes lifted, chilly now as they met hers. He seemed annoyed that she wasn’t taking the hint. ‘Mercifully, we didn’t have that complication,’ he said tonelessly.

She steeled herself not to blink under his cold gaze, or look away. ‘You asked me some rather personal questions,’ she reminded him. ‘Yet you won’t allow me the same right?’

He heaved a sigh, his eyes losing some of their cold glitter, his expression resigned now. But his tone, when he spoke, was still cool, tinged now with irony. ‘What do you want to know? Why my wife left me?’

His wife had left him? It hadn’t been a mutual decision, then? She found it hard to believe that any woman would willingly walk out of a marriage to this man…this ravishingly attractive, magnetic dynamo. But she didn’t know him, of course. Maybe, in private, he was a monster. Or maybe he’d played around. That was more like it. Her lip twisted. He had the looks, the money, the power, the charisma to chase after any woman he wanted or lusted after. The realisation brought with it a swift qualm. And here she was, agreeing to fly up north with him…

‘I take it, by that curl of your lip, that you’re imagining all kinds of lurid things about me,’ he taunted softly, his glittering eyes causing a wave of heat to rise up her throat. ‘Let me put your mind at ease. My wife, far from seeing me as a philandering Lothario or a physical threat, accused me of being dull and boring.’

Dull and boring? This man? She stared at him, her heart inexplicably lightening all of a sudden. She let her tight lips relax, ignoring the quiver deep down inside her which was warning her that nothing about this man was safe, let alone dull and boring.

‘And are you?’ she heard herself asking him.

He flashed a smile…a self-deprecating but breathtakingly attractive smile. ‘I’m not a wildly social animal. She is.’

He wasn’t? She found that hard to believe too. A man of his background and exalted position in life? She cast a look up at him from under her lashes, imagining him in a social context, at ease, in command of himself and those around him, the focus of all eyes. Female eyes in particular. If he wasn’t a social animal it couldn’t be due to any lack of social skills, or any lack of charm or appeal.

‘She’s happy now, by all accounts.’ He traced the rim of his glass with an idle finger. ‘She’s remarried. Someone more to her taste. A diplomat based in Paris. Endless parties. The chance to dress up and socialise every night. She’s in her element.’

The cynical undertone was back in his voice. And now she knew what lay behind it. His wife—undoubtedly a raving beauty, with the charm and social graces to bewitch any man she chose, Case included—had turned out to be a shallow, spoilt, grasping, discontented bitch, by the sound of it. Presumably unfaithful as well. The experience, understandably, had scarred him, soured him. She felt swift compassion, and made an attempt to lighten the conversation.

‘Well, I’m glad to hear you’re going to be socialminded enough to go to this dinner dance at Surfers on Friday night.’ She injected a gently teasing note into her voice. ‘If I do fly up with you, and David wants me to go to the dinner with him, I’ll expect you to keep a dance for me,’ she heard herself declaring recklessly.

‘That’s a promise.’ A glint of humour lightened the inky black depths of his eyes. ‘I’ll try not to step on your toes. Mustn’t have our trusty podiatrist suffering from sore feet.’

‘I’ll bet you’re a superb dancer,’ she said with a shaky laugh, glad to see that his sense of humour hadn’t deserted him along with his wife. And then a sickening thought struck her. ‘You’re not flying up in a small plane, are you?’ If she had any phobia, it was small planes. If he was, it would make her decision easy.

‘No.’ The trace of humour vanished in an instant, an icy film coming down over his eyes. ‘I decided not to replace our company jet after it…crashed. All our company executives take commercial flights these days. A private jet is an unnecessary extravagance anyway, in my book.’

Her face flamed in mortification as she recalled the plane crash which had killed his parents. ‘Case, I’m sorry…I didn’t think.’

‘It was a perfectly reasonable question,’ he said dismissively, the harsh lines round his mouth easing a trifle. ‘So…you’ll try to arrange things so that you can fly up with me on Friday morning?’

He was covering his grief well, but it was there…She could sense it, feel it. She felt another quick surge of compassion for him. And it was that, more than anything else, that decided her. In that moment she didn’t want to disappoint him by throwing his offer back in his face.

‘I’ll…see if I can arrange it.’

‘Good.’ He leaned back, a satisfied smile on his lips. Seeing it, she felt a belated qualm. She had been so intent on feeling sorry for him that she had forgotten that this was a jaded, cynical, hardened man of the world. A diabolically clever man. And quite ruthless, she realised in the same moment. Ruthless in getting what he wanted…in manipulating people…imposing his will. Why was she letting him get away with it?

Because he was David’s big boss? Or because, deep down, she wanted to go? She did want to go, she realised with a trembling sigh. But she preferred not to delve too deeply into her reasons.

‘Look…why don’t you surprise David?’ Case suggested, raising his glass to his lips and taking a leisurely sip of the fine wine he’d chosen. ‘And surprise your mother as well? No need to let either of them know you’re coming, is there? Why not give them both a delightful surprise?’

She tilted her head at him. The idea of playing Cupid amused him, did it? And the thought of being there to witness her springing this surprise visit on David? She felt a prickle of defiance. This was just an amusing, diverting little game to him. Or was it a demonstration of his power—a power game—to show her what a man in his position was capable of?

Why should she humour him?

On the other hand, it probably was the sensible thing to do…to arrive unannounced. If she tried to ring David in advance he might hang up on her before she had a chance to explain.

‘Well…I’ll see,’ she said non-committally. David probably would be delighted if she surprised him. But not her mother. Charlotte hated surprises. She always liked to know what was happening in advance. And, since she lived with someone else, it would only be right to let them know she was coming. But she could wait until she was up in Queensland and ring from Surfers. The phone call to Brisbane would be cheaper from there, and she could chat for longer.

‘I really ought to be getting back to work,’ she said, checking her watch. The time had flown. It occurred to her that she still knew very little about him. She didn’t even know if he was currently involved with anyone.

She brushed the thought aside, annoyed with herself for even toying with the question. It was pretty irrelevant anyway. The man was trying to reunite her with David…not pursuing her for any clandestine purpose of his own!