Читать книгу Taken by the Boss - Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 14

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘I THOUGHT the man was never going to leave your side!’ Mike Reynolds complained as he joined Kit beside the buffet table and a mouth-watering array of desserts.

Because of the amount of people staying at the house this weekend dinner had necessarily been a full buffet affair, which actually suited Kit much better than being seated formally at a dinner table and stuck between two men she would probably rather not spend the time of day—or evening!—with.

Which pretty much covered most of the men here this weekend. With the exception of those wealthy businessmen—and women!—Kit had noted earlier, she had so far found them exactly as Marcus had earlier described them, a lot of ‘hangers-on and social bores’. And Mike Reynolds came even further down the social list as far as she was concerned!

‘Marcus will be back in a few minutes,’ she informed Mike frostily, her expression one of utter contempt as she looked unflinchingly into his too-handsome face. ‘He’s just slipped upstairs to collect some cigars he brought with him for our host.’

‘So I noticed,’ Mike responded comfortably, as usual not affected by her obvious dislike. ‘I also noticed Andrea Revel slipping out to join him a few seconds later,’ he added. ‘So if I were you, I wouldn’t count on your boyfriend being back any time soon!’

Kit tried very hard not to show her surprise—and chagrin—at being told that Andrea was upstairs with Marcus. Not that she really was that surprised that Andrea hadn’t given up on Marcus; she had been extremely visible during the last hour or so as they had all stood or sat around eating their sumptuous dinner, her loud laughter ringing out often at something her companion—presumably Derek Boyes—had said to her.

Not that Marcus had seemed to be taking too much notice, but then Kit didn’t know him well enough to really say whether he had been or not. But other than telling her briefly earlier that he had been delayed getting ready for dinner by a telephone call from Andrea, he hadn’t mentioned her again. The fact that he had left the room ten minutes ago, quickly followed by Andrea if Mike was to be believed, and hadn’t returned yet, seemed to mean that he had been…

‘For your information, Marcus isn’t my boyfriend,’ she snapped, giving Mike a withering look. ‘And don’t presume to project your own moral failings onto other people!’

He gave her an admiring glance. ‘You’ve grown up in the last seven months, Kit.’

‘Oh, please!’ Her look of disdain intensified. ‘Haven’t I already made it obvious that you hold absolutely no charm for me? To the point where I actually walked out on a very well paid job just to avoid being anywhere near you?’

The handsome face grew dark with anger. ‘You always did consider yourself superior—’

‘I did not!’ she cut in indignantly, more stung by the remark than he could possibly imagine. ‘I simply didn’t—and still don’t,’ she continued heatedly, ‘find you in the least attractive!’

He appeared unmoved by her outburst. ‘Well, you’re wasting your time as far as Marcus Maitland is concerned.’

‘It’s my time to waste!’ she came back tartly, turning away from the array of desserts, having suddenly lost her appetite.

She already knew how stupid it was for her to be attracted to Marcus, didn’t need this obnoxious man to tell her so!

Mike shook his head, a taunting smile curving his lips. ‘You’re way out of your depth, Kit.’

Her eyes flashed deeply grey. ‘I would much rather have depth than be shallow!’ Like you, her words obviously implied.

So much so that even the thick-skinned Mike Reynolds couldn’t help but know exactly what she meant, his handsome face once again flushed with anger as he grated, ‘As long as you don’t mind being just another pretty face.’

Kit gave him a pitying look. ‘You’re just being pathetic now,’ she dismissed contemptuously, knowing that in a woman his behaviour would have been classed as bitchy rather than pathetic!

“‘The truth always hurts”,’ he quoted nastily.

Kit wasn’t about to give up. ‘You wouldn’t recognize the truth if it jumped up and bit you on the nose!’

To her surprise Mike laughed at this insulting remark.

But his next move surprised her even more as he reached out to pull her against him to kiss her on the mouth. Hard.

She jerked away angrily, totally bewildered by his action. ‘What on earth—?’

‘You always were a lot of fun, Kit,’ he told her cheekily, a maliciously triumphant gleam in his eyes now.

‘Yes, that’s Kit, all right.’ Marcus spoke from just behind her. ‘Fun and laughter all the way!’

Kit’s face paled as she turned to look at Marcus, feeling slightly sick as she saw the contempt in those deep blue eyes of his as he looked back at her.

Deservedly so, she acknowledged heavily, knowing that Mike had done this on purpose, that he must have seen Marcus’s return and had deliberately kissed her.

She pulled sharply away from Mike, uncaring that his fingers bruised her arms as she did so. ‘You can’t possibly believe I was enjoying that?’ She turned to Marcus disbelievingly.

He looked at her searchingly for several long seconds before turning back to Mike, his expression grimmer than ever. ‘I believe you owe Kit an apology,’ he said tersely.

‘Do I?’ Mike came back aggressively.

‘Is there a problem?’ Desmond Hayes enquired as he approached them, having obviously already seen that there was and moved smoothly away from the group he had been conversing with.

‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ Marcus assured him tightly. ‘I suggest that in future—’ he turned back to Mike Reynolds ‘—you save your less than obvious charms for someone who is more interested in them than Kit appears to be!’

‘And if I don’t?’ the other man challenged.

‘That’s up to you, of course.’ Marcus shrugged. ‘But I should warn you that I have no intention of letting you upset Kit.’

Kit could have wept at the scene that was unfolding in front of her eyes, couldn’t believe this was happening.

‘I believe that at the moment both you gentlemen are upsetting Kit,’ Desmond intervened, at the same time putting a protective hand on her shoulder. ‘I suggest we leave the two of you to sort this out in private.’

‘That’s fine by me,’ Marcus snapped, his icy gaze not leaving Mike’s angrily flushed face.

‘And me,’ Mike concurred, looking at Marcus with intense dislike. ‘If anything, you’re even more arrogant than your girlfriend,’ he told Marcus.

Kit gasped. ‘I told you, I’m not—’

‘Leave them to it, my dear,’ Desmond advised, turning her away from the other two men and back into the throng of the party. ‘Don’t you know better than to try to come between two males fighting over territory?’ he chided, reaching out to take a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and hand it to her. ‘Drink some of that,’ he encouraged. ‘It will make you feel better.’

Kit didn’t feel anything was going to succeed in doing that as she saw Marcus and Mike leave the house by the French doors. Doors that very firmly closed behind them!

‘They’ll be fine,’ Desmond assured her laughingly. ‘I believe Marcus was a champion boxer when he was at Cambridge. Unless, of course, it’s Mike Reynolds you’re worried about?’ He raised amused brows as the idea suddenly occurred to him.

‘Not in the least,’ Kit told him firmly, sipping her champagne agitatedly. ‘Tell me, does hitting another man actually ever solve anything?’

‘Not usually, no,’ Desmond confirmed. ‘But it makes you feel a hell of a lot better!’ he said with relish.

Kit laughed too. It was impossible not to, this man’s expression was so full of boyish mischief. In fact, it was easy to see, when he was amusingly charming like this, exactly why Desmond had been married three times.

‘All the things you’ve heard about me are true,’ Desmond said, those shrewd blue eyes seeming to read her thoughts exactly. ‘Except one of them,’ he added softly, suddenly serious. ‘I don’t intend letting my third wife divorce me. She’s the love of my life,’ he told Kit quietly as she looked at him enquiringly.

It was too much on top of everything else that had happened to her this evening; Kit’s eyes filled with sudden tears at the utter desolation she detected in the gentleness of his voice.

‘It does happen, you know,’ Desmond told her candidly. ‘The so-called biggest of womanizers, when they find the right woman, will never look at another one.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She bowed her head, searching through her small evening bag for the tissue she had placed in there earlier. ‘I know I’m being silly. It’s just—’

‘You’re falling in love with Marcus,’ he said knowingly.

Kit raised her head to look around them worriedly, concerned that someone might hear their conversation, reassured when she saw that no one was listening. She turned back to Desmond. ‘Of course I’m not falling in love with Marcus—’

‘Of course you aren’t,’ Desmond echoed her words teasingly. ‘In the same way I’m not still in love with my wife.’

Kit gave a rueful smile. ‘No, I really mean it—’

‘So do I,’ Desmond encouraged sympathetically. ‘Ah, the victor returns,’ he said with satisfaction after a glance over her shoulder. ‘No doubt battle-scarred but victorious!’

Kit was almost afraid to turn round and see which one of the two men had just re-entered the house, Marcus or Mike. Not that she thought for a moment that it wouldn’t be Marcus; there was just no comfort in it, knowing how furious he was with her.

She sighed, the tingling sensation she felt down her spine telling her that it was indeed Marcus who had just re-entered the house. And that he was making his way across the room to where they stood talking. ‘I shall have to leave, of course—’

‘You most certainly will not,’ Desmond told her firmly, his hand once again clasping her shoulder. ‘You’re the only thing that’s making this whole weekend bearable!’

‘How touching,’ drawled that all-too-familiar voice. ‘Really, Kit,’ Marcus said with hard derision as he moved to stand beside her, his shrewd gaze having taken in Desmond’s proprietary hold on her, ‘you’re turning into quite the femme fatale!’

‘She is a femme fatale,’ Desmond told him happily. ‘Beautiful. With a delightful sense of humour. Sensuous. Deliciously—calm down, Marcus,’ he ordered as the younger man made an impatient movement. ‘You can’t go around fighting every man Kit so much as talks to, you know.’

Poor Desmond had this all so wrong, it would have been laughable if it weren’t so tragic. She was falling in love with Marcus. But he certainly didn’t feel the same way about her, despite his defence of her just now. And she very much doubted that he appreciated the suggestion that he did!

‘Ah, to add to the intrigue, the lovely Andrea returns,’ Desmond observed speculatively as Andrea Revel came back into the room.

The beautiful, sensuous, delicious Andrea Revel, Kit acknowledged heavily, knowing that the other woman really was everything that she wasn’t herself. Andrea also looked stunningly attractive this evening in a bright red silk sheath of a dress that clung to her voluptuous curves. A fact she was obviously completely aware of as she strolled across the room to rejoin Derek Boyes.

Frankly, Kit had had enough of all of them for one evening!

‘I’m afraid I have a headache.’ She spoke to Desmond Hayes, deliberately keeping her gaze averted from the broodingly silent Marcus, one quick glance having shown her that, despite what Desmond had said, he showed no visible battle scars. But the fact that Mike Reynolds hadn’t reappeared seemed to say that Desmond was right about which man had been the victor. ‘If you will excuse me?’ she added for politeness’ sake only, not waiting for a response from either man before she turned and hurriedly left the room, looking to neither left nor right as she did so. She certainly didn’t want to see Catherine Grainger again before she went to bed!

What a disaster of a weekend this was turning out to be! There wasn’t a single person here that she wanted to be with. Although Desmond Hayes had been something of a surprise these last few minutes, not at all what she had expected. Surprisingly, she actually found herself liking him. He—

‘Oh, no, you don’t!’ Marcus grated gruffly, grasping the bedroom door as Kit would have closed it behind her.

Kit turned to look at him apprehensively. She had been completely unaware of him following her up the stairs—not surprising really, when her thoughts had been so full of the misery she had endured the last couple of hours!

‘Let’s go inside,’ Marcus said, not waiting for her answer before moving past her into the bedroom.

Kit followed slowly, shutting the door quietly behind her, sensing his reproving gaze on her before she even looked at him. But once she had looked at him, she wished that she hadn’t, the grimness of his voice more than reflected in his harshly set features!

‘Well, you’ve certainly made a spectacle of yourself this evening, haven’t you?’ he said scornfully, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets as he stared across the room at her.

‘I have?’ She gasped her indignation, feeling her anger starting to rise. ‘I’m not the one who spent fifteen minutes out of the room with one woman and then came back and started acting all proprietorial about another one!’ She glared at him accusingly, well past the mood of caution. And if Marcus sacked her for her outspokenness—fine! She really wasn’t sure how they were going to continue to work together after this weekend, anyway.

‘I’m flattered that you actually took note of the time,’ he drawled.

‘I didn’t,’ she told him swiftly. ‘Mike was the one who noticed Andrea following you out of the room, and Desmond remarked on her return.’ She threw her evening bag down on the bed. ‘I couldn’t give a damn what you do!’ Her eyes sparkled deeply grey in her anger. ‘Or, in fact, who you do it with!’

Marcus was very still, only a nerve pulsing in his jaw to tell of his own fury. ‘Couldn’t you?’ he prompted softly.

‘No!’ she assured him decisively. ‘As for going outside with Mike Reynolds—! Did the two of you actually have a fight?’ She still found that whole scene unbelievable.

‘Nothing so crude, Kit,’ Marcus responded tersely. ‘There are far subtler ways of dealing with a man like Mike Reynolds than resorting to physical violence. But how the hell do you even know a man like him? He said something about the two of you being involved seven months ago?’ His eyes had narrowed to blue slits.

Kit gave a frustrated shake of her head. ‘I thought you said you had read my résumé?’

‘So I have,’ Marcus confirmed with a perplexed frown. ‘But what does that have to do with—?’ He broke off abruptly, grimacing self-derisively as he momentarily closed his eyes.

‘Exactly,’ she bit out disgustedly, knowing the truth had finally dawned. ‘Mike Reynolds is a prime example of what is meant by sexual harassment in the workplace. I utterly detest the man,’ she finished with a shudder of distaste.

‘Perhaps I should have hit him, after all,’ Marcus muttered.

‘Not on my account, no,’ Kit assured him hastily.

He gave a ragged sigh. ‘It seems I owe you an apology.’

‘Accepted,’ Kit said gruffly. ‘Now would you please leave my bedroom?’ She really had had quite enough for one day!

He drew in a harsh breath. ‘One way or another, this has been—quite an enlightening evening, hasn’t it?’

For whom? It certainly wasn’t anything that Kit would want to live through again.

‘Perhaps,’ she returned noncommittally. ‘But in the circumstances, I think it might be best if I were to leave here tomorrow.’

Before anything else disastrous happened!

‘Because of Mike Reynolds?’ Marcus queried. ‘I believe he’s leaving himself in the morning.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Your doing?’

‘My doing,’ Marcus confirmed levelly.

Okay, so the Mike Reynolds problem might have been dealt with. But that still left Catherine Grainger…

‘I would still rather leave,’ Kit told him determinedly, knowing it was for the best.

Marcus paused for a moment. ‘Because of my behaviour this evening?’ He grimaced. ‘First I accuse you of disloyalty, then I question your friendship with Mike Reynolds!’

‘Partly because of that,’ she answered cautiously.

He looked at her directly. ‘But also because…?’ he prompted.

Because a part of her had felt pleased at the way he had defended her against Mike Reynolds, and the fact that he hadn’t seemed to like Desmond Hayes talking to her, either. But, ultimately, she had known it wasn’t real, that it was only male pride on Marcus’s part. To remain here for the rest of the weekend, posing as the woman in his life, would only give her false hopes.

She forced a smile. ‘I just think it’s for the best. Besides,’ she went on, ‘I’m sure Miss Revel will be only too pleased to keep you company.’

‘And if it isn’t Andrea that I want to keep me company?’

He was suddenly standing much too close for comfort, and Kit was easily able to feel the heat of his body, the warmth of his breath stirring the loose tendrils of hair at her temples.

She swallowed hard, at the same time forcing herself not to take a step backwards, determined not to let him see the effect his closeness was having on her. ‘But we both know that it is,’ she persisted.

‘Do we?’

‘Yes,’ she said firmly, her eyes meeting his steadily. ‘You said as much when we arrived here and you mentioned not making a scene.’

‘What makes you think I was referring to Andrea…?’

Well, he certainly couldn’t have been referring to her because of the friendly way Mike Reynolds had talked to her—could he…?

Marcus continued to look at her for several long seconds, finally taking a step backwards. ‘How about we discuss this again in the morning?’

‘How about we don’t?’ she came back heavily.

To her surprise, Marcus grinned, a completely humorous grin that warmed his eyes and curved his lips over even white teeth.

‘It certainly is different being away on business with you rather than Lewis!’

Kit’s own mouth quirked, relieved that the tension between them seemed to have broken. Although that didn’t change her resolve to put as much distance tomorrow between herself and Desmond Hayes’s house as was possible. As much distance between herself and Catherine Grainger as was possible…

‘I would think it would be,’ she conceded dryly.

Marcus chuckled now, his bad humour obviously dissipated. ‘No borrowing his aftershave when I forget my own, for one thing,’ he teased.

‘Or socks and underwear,’ Kit came back playfully.

‘I draw the line at the underwear!’ Marcus assured her dryly. ‘The socks at a pinch, maybe, but—’

‘Please go back downstairs and join the party!’ Kit cut the conversation short.

Marcus sobered, looking at her intently now. ‘You’ll be okay up here on your own?’

‘Of course,’ she assured him easily.

A few more hours and she might be able to get away from here completely.

Away from the possibility of finding herself alone with Catherine Grainger again…!