Читать книгу The Husband Assignment - HELEN BIANCHIN, Helen Bianchin - Страница 8

‘WHAT are you doing here?’

Raoul arched an eyebrow. ‘Do you usually greet everyone this way?’

‘No,’ she managed to say coolly.

‘And keep them standing on the doorstep?’

He bothered her more than she was prepared to admit. On a professional level, she had no recourse but to suffer his presence. However, this was her time, her home, which made it very personal.

She was safe. The outer wrought-iron security door was locked. He couldn’t enter unless she chose to release the catch.

‘I conduct business in my office, Mr. Lanier. I suggest you contact my secretary and make an appointment.’

‘In case it slipped your mind, you refused to take my call.’

‘I had to do some urgent work on the computer,’ she explained, determined not to sound defensive. ‘My secretary took messages.’

‘I gave her one. You didn’t return it.’

She regarded him carefully. ‘There was no need, given Michel is investing personal, not Lanier company funds, into the film.’

‘As a matter of interest, did the roses make it into your office?’

Stephanie’s eyes flared, then assumed cool control. ‘I had Isabel put them in reception.’

‘And tore up my check.’

‘It was a business dinner,’ she reminded firmly.

‘Business was on the agenda,’ Raoul granted in measured tones.

‘It was the sole reason I accepted your invitation.’

There was cynical amusement lurking in the depths of his eyes. ‘You have since made that remarkably clear.’

‘I’m not into playing word-games, nor do I indulge in male ego-stroking.’

He laughed. A deep throaty sound that held a degree of spontaneous humor, and something else she didn’t care to define.

‘Invite me in, Stephanie.’

‘No. Emma is due to wake from her nap anytime soon.’

‘Have dinner with me tonight.’

‘I don’t date, Mr. Lanier,’ she added icily.

‘Raoul,’ he insisted evenly. ‘The sharing of a meal doesn’t necessarily constitute a date.’

He really was too much! ‘What part of no don’t you understand?’ she demanded, and saw his eyes narrow slightly.

‘Are you so afraid of me?’

Fear had many aspects, and while her personal safety wasn’t in question, her emotional sanity was something else entirely. She’d turned the lock on her emotional heart and thrown away the key. This man saw too much, sensed too much, and was therefore dangerous.

‘You’re wasting your time,’ she said quietly.

One eyebrow arched. ‘You think so?’

‘We have nothing to discuss.’

‘Yes,’ Raoul argued silkily. ‘We do.’

His gaze seemed to sear right through to her soul, and it took enormous willpower to keep her eyes level, emotionless.

‘In your dreams,’ Stephanie reiterated with pseudo sweetness.

His expression didn’t change, although his voice was a soft drawl that conveyed innate knowledge. ‘Oui.’

She drew a deep breath, and released it slowly. ‘If you don’t leave immediately, I’ll make a call and have you charged with harassment.’

Stephanie closed the door, and leaned against it for several long minutes, then she drew in a deep breath and moved toward the kitchen. Crossing to the refrigerator she took a can of cola, popped the tab, then she extracted a glass and filled it with the sparkling dark liquid.

Her skin felt heated, and her pulse beat fast at the edge of her throat. Damn him. Who did he think he was?

A hollow laugh escaped into the silence of the room. Raoul Lanier knew exactly who he was. What’s more, she had the instinctive feeling he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

The question was, what did Raoul Lanier want with her?

Sex. Why else did men pursue women, if not to indulge in intimacy?

Hadn’t she discovered that to her cost? Ben had said the sweet words and pushed all the right buttons. Until she fell pregnant. Then he became someone she didn’t know at all, and she’d walked away, vowing never to trust a man again, ever.

There were men she dealt with in the course of her business life, and despite numerous invitations she’d held steadfast to her rule not to date.

However none had affected her as Raoul Lanier did. Instant awareness. Sexual chemistry at its zenith, she added with silent cynicism.

Electric, primeval, shocking, she acknowledged, remembering vividly the moment their gazes met when he’d walked into her office.

Within seconds, it had seemed as if her life came to a standstill and there was only him. Invading her senses, warming her blood, staking a claim. As if he possessed a blueprint to her future. It had unnerved her then. It disturbed and unnerved her now.

Her fingers clenched until the knuckles shone white, and she crossed to the sink and discarded the glass.

Do something. Anything. The ironing, she decided. Heaven knew she had enough of it. By then Emma would be awake, and she’d entertain her until it was time to cook dinner.

Two hours later Stephanie settled Emma in front of the television and slid an educational video into the VCR.

‘I’ll start dinner, sweetheart.’ The house favored open-plan living, and the lounge adjoined the dining room, both of which were visible from the kitchen.

There was chicken and vegetable broth left from yesterday, and she peeled potatoes, carrots and added broccoli to go with the steamed chicken. Better to stick to something fairly bland for the next day or two.

She had just added water to the saucepan when she heard the singsong peal of the doorbell. She reached for the kitchen towel, dried her hands and crossed into the lounge.

‘Doorbell,’ Emma announced solemnly as Stephanie moved into the hallway.

The only person who popped in without forewarning was her neighbor, and she opened the door with a ready smile, only to have it fade as she recognized the man on the landing.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I believe we’ve already done that,’ Raoul said with musing mockery. He held out two brown paper sacks. ‘I brought dinner.’

‘Why?’ she demanded baldly.

‘Why not?’ he posed lightly.

‘Mommy?’

Stephanie closed her eyes, then opened them again, spearing him with a look that spoke volumes before turning toward her daughter. ‘It’s okay, darling,’ she said gently. ‘Go back into the lounge. I’ll be there in a minute.’

‘Hello, Emma.’

His voice was calm, soothing…friendly, warm, damn him!

‘Hello.’ Emma was openly curious, and not at all intimidated. ‘Who are you?’

Raoul sank down onto his haunches in one fluid movement. ‘A friend of your mother’s.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Raoul.’

‘Are you having dinner with us?’ the little girl queried solemnly.

‘Would you like me to?’

Oh my, he was good! Stephanie shot him a glance that would have felled a lesser man.

‘Yes.’

Unfair, she wanted to scream.

‘Mommy?’

‘I’m sure Raoul—’ she hesitated fractionally over his name ‘—has plans for the evening.’

‘Do you?’ Emma asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

‘No plans,’ Raoul assured.

Dammit, he was enjoying this!

‘You can watch my video,’ Emma invited, offering a generous smile.

‘I’d like that.’

Stephanie met his eyes, glimpsed the silent query lurking there and wanted nothing more than to close the door in his face. ‘I don’t think it would be a good idea.’

‘I promise to be on my best behavior,’ Raoul declared solemnly.

Don’t you get it? she wanted to demand in anger. You’re not welcome. And never will be, a silent voice echoed.

He inclined his head, aware that she was teetering on the edge, and anything he said at this point could work to his disadvantage.

‘Please, Mommy.’

Blind trust. To a child, everything was simple. If only it was as simple for an adult!

Stephanie inserted the key and unlocked the security door. ‘Come in.’ Her voice was polite, but lacked any pretense of enthusiasm or graciousness.

‘You’re big,’ Emma declared as he entered the lobby, and he smiled.

‘Maybe it’s because you’re small.’

‘I’m three,’ the little girl pronounced proudly.

Raoul indicated the paper sacks. ‘If you lead the way, I’ll deposit these in the kitchen.’

It was a comfortable one-level house, relatively modern with average-size rooms. Raoul’s presence seemed to diminish them, and she was supremely conscious of him as he followed her down the hallway.

It was almost as if all her fine body hairs stood on end in involuntary protection. Which was crazy, she silently chastised. Already she was fast becoming a mass of nerves, and he hadn’t even touched her.

What would you do if he did? Don’t think about it. It’s not going to happen.