Читать книгу A Taste of Sin - Maggie Cox, Maggie Cox - Страница 9
ОглавлениеLONG AFTER HER MEETING, and still stinging from her encounter with the mercurial force of nature that was Gene Bonnaire, Rose couldn’t help but be interested in what drove the man to be the way he was. He clearly hadn’t liked her decision not to sell the shop to him. Her refusal had really grated on him, because he obviously wasn’t used to being denied when he’d set his sights on something that he wanted.
Knowing that he was a restaurateur, and that he wanted the building for one of his establishments, that night she went home and did some more research.
Rose discovered that Gene was one of the richest men in Europe and had made his fortune by turning a once small French restaurant in East London called Mangez Bien into a well-known chain that had spread across the globe. The original restaurant had been owned by Gene’s parents. They were both French immigrants, who’d settled in London when they were young and had turned their love of cooking and food into owning a much loved eatery that had been patronised by a devoted local clientele.
By the time their son had turned seventeen, so the story went, he was already a fine chef whose ambitions far exceeded his parents’ own. He had progressed from being Head Chef at one of London’s finest hotels to becoming an astute entrepreneur who had started to establish restaurants of his own. But as he’d begun to build an empire of affordable French restaurants he had also acquired a reputation for being quite ruthless in his business dealings.
Rose already knew he didn’t like being denied...
Leaning back in her chair, she studied the photograph that her computer had helpfully supplied. It had been taken at a prestigious awards ceremony in LA, and even though the picture of him couldn’t help but be flattering, to her mind it didn’t depict any pleasure at his being at the event, nor at having received an award. Instead, the man’s immense dissatisfaction was clear. It emanated from Gene’s steely blue eyes in forbidding icy waves...
He doesn’t look even remotely pleased, she mused. And he was probably even less pleased since she’d turned down his offer.
The headline of the article onscreen read, The man who has everything once again strikes gold.
‘Hmph,’ Rose muttered out loud. ‘That doesn’t mean that any of what he’s got makes him happy. Something must be bugging him...something he doesn’t like to talk about.’
Was it anything to do with his father not being able to afford a real diamond and pearl ring for his mother in the early days when they were starting to establish their business? Why else had he told Rose that it was only costume jewellery? Had it made him feel insecure? She remembered the flicker of pain that had accompanied his remark. But surely he wasn’t still burdened by the memory? Was he sad that once upon a time his parents had struggled...that not everything had been as easy for them as it had for their son?
Wearily dragging her fingers through her pixie cut short hair, she sighed. Why was Gene Bonnaire at the forefront of her thoughts when she still had to face her boss and tell him that she’d turned down the Frenchman’s offer?
She would have done anything to spare him the disappointment and distress the news would undoubtedly bring him, and could only hope he would see that her motivation had been to do what was right by him. After all, he’d been there for her when her father had passed away, staying by his bedside with Rose until he breathed his last breath... The last thing he needed now, when he was so ill, was to be put under pressure to sell the antiques shop to someone who didn’t have the first idea about what it meant to him...
Switching off her computer, she stood up and stretched. Annoyed that she’d wasted even more time thinking about Gene Bonnaire, she went into her living room to collect the book she’d been reading. It was a hefty tome all about the Aztecs, with a fascinating chapter on the magnificent jewellery worn by the emperors. There had recently been a momentous find in northern Mexico, and straight away it had fuelled Rose’s interest. She’d have loved to go and see the treasure that the archaeologists had uncovered, but she’d have to wait until it finally went on display in a prestigious gallery or museum.
Going to bed, she fell asleep with the book on her chest and dreamt disturbingly of an Aztec emperor who uncannily resembled Gene Bonnaire...
* * *
Just like an addict, desperate to buy his next fix, Gene sat in the café across the street from the antiques store and couldn’t turn his mind to anything else other than fulfilling his desire to own the gracious building he was staring at... The coffee he’d ordered had long gone cold as he restlessly contemplated going in and demanding that Rose Heathcote came to her senses and accepted the offer he’d made.
It had been three days since their meeting, and no phone call had been forthcoming to tell him that she’d had second thoughts. Maybe her boss had had a better offer from someone else? The very idea made him feel nauseous. He wanted that building as much as he wanted his next breath, and he deplored the notion that he might not get it.
Glancing down at his Rolex, he saw that he’d been sitting in the café for nigh on half an hour, hoping to catch Rose unawares. Catching someone off-guard often paid dividends, he’d found. If he’d seen her then he would have asked her out to dinner, so that they could talk amicably outside of work and get to know each other a little better. If he was able to get her to trust him then he didn’t doubt he could persuade her to sell the building to him.
But she hadn’t stepped outside even once, and in truth he was taking an unnecessary risk, sitting in the café in front of the window. Any minute now the paparazzi might turn up—and that really would ruin his day, because they were frequently on a mission to expose him as ruthless and uncaring...
Even in the early days, when he’d started to have some success, he’d realised there were more people in the world who were jealous of his achievements rather than pleased. More to the point, they were jealous of his wealth... Knowing that, he knew the press was more than eager to take him down a peg or two—no doubt so that their readers could feel a bit better about their own lives.
Suddenly impatient, he glanced upwards at the now darkening skies. Any moment now it would start to rain. He shouldn’t waste any more time sitting there, waiting for inspiration to dawn about what he should do. He’d never been someone who waited for opportunity to strike. Gene made his own opportunities.
His gaze settled on the old building again. The name of the shop was The Hidden Diamond, and to be honest he thought it a little trite. After all, he reasoned, if it was hidden then what use was it to anybody? Diamonds should be displayed to denote their owner’s wealth...not hidden away.
With a jaundiced sigh he got to his feet. The promised rain began to splatter the pavement. He was done with waiting. He was going into the shop to present Rose with a more persuasive offer. If she really cared so much about helping her boss then she ought to be relieved he was giving her a second bite of the cherry...
* * *
Rose was finishing up her bookwork when she heard the doorbell chime. Hurriedly toeing on her maroon leather flats, she tucked her cream silk blouse more securely into the waistband of her smart black skirt and left the office to deal with what she assumed was a late customer.
She should have closed up shop half an hour ago, but she’d been so immersed in cataloguing the dwindling monthly sales and wishing they were better that she hadn’t noticed the time.
Her lips automatically curved into a smile, but the gesture immediately melted away when she saw that her late caller wasn’t the customer she’d envisaged but Gene Bonnaire. She stared. What was he doing here? Forgoing a suit, he was dressed casually today, in jeans and a dove-grey T-shirt beneath a tailored black jacket. But he was no less formidable. It was raining outside, she saw, and the shoulders of his jacket glistened with moisture—as did his hair.
‘Do you usually stay open this late?’ he asked, clearly opting to dispense with any social niceties.
Tensing, Rose found herself caught in the crystalline spotlight of his disquieting blue gaze. ‘Not usually no. But I was busy doing some bookwork and didn’t notice the time. What can I do for you, Mr Bonnaire? If you were hoping to persuade me to change my mind about your offer then I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want you to waste your time.’
‘Don’t be sorry. Just let me have a few minutes with you to talk things over.’
‘To what end?’
‘Why don’t we sit down and I’ll tell you?’
Rose arched an eyebrow. ‘Like I said, I gave you my decision and I see no reason in discussing it any further.’ When Gene scowled she got the distinct impression that he was having considerable trouble remaining calm. His next words confirmed it.
‘You really have no idea about business, do you, Rose? I’d like to know why your boss, Philip Houghton, has such faith in you... Perhaps you’d enlighten me?’
Now Rose had trouble holding on to her own temper, and she had no hesitation in replying passionately, ‘Because I care about him—that’s why! I have no ulterior motive other than that I want what’s best for him. And what’s best for him is to sell the antiques business as a going concern, to someone who will love it as much as he does.’
‘That’s a nice thought...but hardly a realistic one.’
‘Did you come here just to tell me how inept you think I am, Mr Bonnaire?’ Incensed, she folded her arms. ‘Because if it makes you feel any better, then you should know that I’ve had sleepless nights about the whole thing. It would be very easy to take your offer to my boss and tell him that he’d be lucky to get another one half as good—remind him that the antiques trade isn’t what it used to be and he should just take what he can while the going’s good. But I couldn’t be so cruel. Not when I know how much the business means to him. If he was just interested in selling a beautiful period building in a very desirable area then he would have done so. But he wants the business to continue... What do you think he’d say if I accepted your offer and then told him you weren’t remotely interested in antiques?’
Gene looked thoughtful. Then he smiled. ‘I think he’d probably feel that he can’t be sentimental about it. At the end of the day, if he believes that his poor health will prohibit his return to work, no doubt he will need the money to help pay for his care. Surely that’s the priority here?’
What he said made perfect sense and, suddenly unsure, Rose felt tears of frustration surge into her eyes.
Gene all but covered the distance between them in less than a couple of strides, and as before the air stirred hypnotically with the exotic scent of his expensive cologne.
‘You’re upset. Is there anything I can do? Why don’t we go into the office and I’ll get you a cup of tea?’
‘I don’t want tea. All I want is... All I want is for you to go away!’ Her outburst sounded embarrassingly childish even to her own ears... So much for keeping her composure. Rose wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.
But the man in front of her didn’t go away. He didn’t even look remotely put out. The dazzling blue eyes that she knew could turn forbiddingly cold when he was angry were now inexplicably warm...tender, even. He lifted his hand to touch her arm gently. Her heart thudded quietly as she felt his smooth skin brush against her own.
‘Your boss gave you a tough job when he asked you to sell the business for him, Rose—perhaps too tough. I don’t mean this as a criticism, but I can see that it’s not where your skills lie... I’ve already learned that it’s the job you love—being with the artefacts and learning about their history. More than that, you like discovering the personal stories behind them. You’re a people person, Rose...not a businesswoman.’
She realised the man had an almost uncanny knack of knowing what a person was about. But she didn’t want to let him see even for a second that his astute insight perturbed her. Surely Gene Bonnaire had enough advantages without her giving him any more...namely the fact that she could so easily warm to him, when everything in her told her it would be a mistake that would undoubtedly cost her dear...
‘That might be the case, and I know my forte isn’t in the world of business—I told you that before. But my love of antiques and understanding what they mean to people also makes me understand why my boss, Philip, wants to sell the business as a going concern. I think it means even more to him since he’s become ill. He’s taught me so much about the trade, and that’s why I want to get the best deal for him.’
‘That’s also why you should give me a little bit more of your time and listen to what I have to say, Rose.’
‘Why? Are you going to tell me that you’ve decided to take on the business after all?’
Gene was already shaking his head. ‘No. I’m sorry I have to disappoint you, but I won’t be getting involved in that side of things. I haven’t changed my mind about that.’
‘Then how can I possibly be interested in listening any more to what you have to say, Mr Bonnaire?’
‘If you’d do me the courtesy of having dinner with me tonight, I’ll explain.’
Even as she guessed that most women would be surprised and pleased by such an invitation—not to mention immensely flattered—Rose defiantly lifted her chin to indicate that she wasn’t one of them. ‘Thank you, but I’m going to have to decline.’
‘You have a previous engagement?’
‘No, but—’
‘You don’t want to hear what I have to say, even though it might be to your boss’s advantage?’
‘How can it possibly be to his advantage? You’ve already said that you’re not interested in the business...that you only want the building.’
Gene Bonnaire’s steely-eyed gaze didn’t waver for so much as a second as he examined her, and it was easy to guess he’d hoped to have the upper hand.
‘Like I said, Rose... Have dinner with me tonight and all will be explained.’
Prickling with unease, she sensed herself flush heatedly. ‘You’re just playing games—and I don’t trust men who play games. If you have something to say that you know for a fact my boss will be interested in, then why don’t you just come right out and say it?’
‘Very well, then, although I’m sad that you won’t agree to dinner, and just to reassure you, Rose, I’m not playing games. It’s just that it has been my experience that all the best deals are made over a cordon bleu meal and a fine bottle of wine.’
One corner of the handsome Frenchman’s mouth lifted in a smile that would make most women—young, old and in between—ache to be close to him in the most intimate way... And even though Rose was quite aware that he was using his charm to get what he wanted, she was hardly immune to the idea.
‘Is that right? Well, I’m afraid that’s not been my experience.’
‘So you won’t even take a risk and try it?’
Unable to glance away from his mesmerising gaze, she felt her breath hitch. ‘No...I won’t...’
But even as she refused a look of heated longing drifted across his irises and she sensed her resistance indisputably melting. Underneath their polite words, somehow a much more sensual conversation was taking place. Rose couldn’t deny it. That impossibly irresistible look of Gene Bonnaire’s was captivating her, stirring her own longing into life, and right then all she wanted to do was to fulfil it...
Gene moved to stand in front of her, his mesmerising blue eyes smouldering like simmering fires... In the next instant the businessman had firmly caught hold of her arm and pulled her against his chest.
Rose’s blood pumped hard. All she could do was helplessly stare back at him. It was undeniable that he excited her, but his sheer physical presence disturbed her too. It only took a glance to see how supremely fit and strong he was.
Low-voiced, he murmured, ‘God forgive me, but...’
The time that elapsed between his words and his next action was brief...too brief for her to stop him.
His urgent, initially demanding kiss stole her breath and made her sink against the hard wall of his chest. Her senses were utterly besieged by him. And as his hot silken mouth moved over hers and became more and more seductive Rose didn’t have the faintest inclination to end the passionate caress.
Then somehow it filtered through to her fogged brain just how dangerous her compliant actions were and she came hurtling back to her senses. Shocked and shaken, she freed herself from the Frenchman’s embrace and wiped her hand over her already aching lips.
Staring back at him, she declared, ‘Your arrogance, Mr Bonnaire, has to be seen to be believed! I don’t know what you thought you were doing, but I think you’d better just leave.’
Her heart pumped even harder. The heat from his body and his velvet mouth had seared her indelibly, and she already knew she wasn’t easily going to forget it.
‘I didn’t intend to kiss you, Rose, but somehow the desire overwhelmed me. I am as disturbed by it as you are. I apologise. If you really won’t come to dinner with me then I can do no more than tell you about the amended deal I have come up with.’
He paused, as if to take a moment to straighten his thoughts. There was a slight crimson tint beneath his tan that bore out his declaration that desire had overwhelmed him. Rose didn’t know what to make of it herself. She was just an ordinary girl, and he was—he was a living, breathing Adonis...
‘I already know how much getting the best deal for your boss means to you, and I have spent quite some time thinking about how I can make that a reality for you both. This is my new offer.’
His hand dived into the inside pocket of his jacket and he drew out a slim sheet of paper. Unfolding it, he handed it to Rose.
Her jaw all but hit the floor when she saw how much he was prepared to pay for the privilege of owning the building. His initial offer had practically doubled. For dizzying moments she was literally lost for words.
‘This amount of money can be a real life-changer for Philip, Rose. That being the case, why on earth would you turn down the opportunity to help make things better for him? If you were to persuade him to see the sense in selling to me, then I’m sure he would be nothing but relieved. If he accepted my offer then he would have the worry of the business off his hands and earn himself a more than healthy profit. No doubt you would be happy too, Rose, because his ill health would undoubtedly be restored and, last but not least, I don’t deny I would be pleased, because I’d get the property I’ve long desired.’
‘And the name of the game is always that you get what you want, isn’t it, Mr Bonnaire? There’s nothing altruistic about this scenario, is there? You don’t give a fig about my employer’s health, or whether I’m happy or not happy. Why should you? You know nothing about us! You’ve seen something you want and you’ll do anything...pay any price...to get it. Isn’t that how people like you operate?’
To Rose’s consternation, he chuckled. It was a rich, gravelly sound that sent shivers running up and down her spine.
‘Touché...you’ve got it in one. You’re a bright woman...’
‘Don’t patronise me!’
Sighing, he folded his arms over his chest and studied her. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. I’d much rather have you on my side than make you my enemy, Rose. By the way, your eyes are an incredible colour... I don’t doubt you’ve been told that many times before. What’s the shade? I’d say they were violet...’
Rose was hardly prepared for his remarks suddenly to become personal, even though he’d so passionately kissed her, and for several disturbing seconds it threw her. She could hardly think, let alone come back with a retort to put him in his place.
‘The colour of my eyes is neither here nor there. This conversation is completely futile. Now, I really need to close the shop and you have to go.’
‘Not yet. You haven’t told me what you intend to do.’
‘What do you mean?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you going to talk to your boss about accepting my new offer?’
Rose was still holding the piece of paper he’d given her and she carefully folded it and slipped it into her skirt pocket.
Returning her gaze to his, she said, ‘I’ll show him what you’re offering—of course I will—but if you’re asking if I’ll try and persuade him to take it, then, no...I won’t. Philip makes his own decisions—always has and always will. I neither have nor want any influence over him.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ Dropping his hands to his hips, Gene smiled. ‘I can sense that you’re a sensitive woman, Rose. I’m sure that Philip must appreciate that. If he knows that you care about his feelings then I’m sure he must respect any opinions you have about the matter and know that you have his best interests at heart.’
‘Even so, it would feel wrong for me to persuade him to just sell the building, and some of the antiques, when he dearly wants to sell the business as a going concern.’
‘But surely he must know by now that his beloved business clearly isn’t viable any more?’
‘Do you think I want to tell him that? When I know it’s been his life’s work and he’s lying ill in hospital?’
‘You would find a way to put it compassionately, I’m sure. You obviously care about him very much.’
‘I do...’
‘Then he is a lucky man.’
‘I’m the lucky one. If he hadn’t taken me on and taught me the trade I’d never have found the work that I’ve grown to love.’
‘I’m sure he must have found it a pleasure to teach you, Rose. What sentient man wouldn’t? Not only does he get a beautiful woman with captivating violet eyes and patrician cheekbones to work for him, but she becomes quite devoted to him too.’
Rose sensed her cheeks flush red. ‘I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. Philip isn’t attracted to me, if that’s what you’re implying, and neither am I to him. For goodness’ sake—he’s an elderly man, past retirement age!’
Gene was instantly apologetic. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve caused offence. I thought he must be middle-aged, but I didn’t realise he was elderly. I’m afraid I confess I was a little jealous when I heard you talk about him in such glowing terms.’
Dry-mouthed, Rose hardly knew what to say. The way he’d complimented her looks just now was unbearably seductive, and saying that he’d been jealous of her admiration for Philip was crazy. Coming from a man who could have any woman he wanted, it was plainly ridiculous.
Realising that for a dangerous moment she’d been more flattered than she should, Rose gritted her teeth. Gene Bonnaire was even more of a threat than she’d thought...
‘Look...I think you’d better just go. I mean it. I’ll be in touch if I get any news from Mr Houghton for you.’
For a surreal moment Gene honestly forgot what he was about—because he suddenly found himself even more mesmerised by the brunette. Those violet eyes of hers were strangely bewitching, and he’d fallen into a bit of dream staring back at them.
He’d known when he kissed her that he wanted to seduce her...it was just a matter of when...but his sudden fierce attraction was honestly a revelation—because Rose Heathcote certainly wasn’t the usual type of woman he was attracted to. She was not blonde, statuesque or shapely. She was small and slender, with black hair cut boyishly short. Yet the passionate spark in her eyes that he’d just witnessed, along with her feisty nature and her determination to protect her boss at all costs, made her surprisingly alluring.
It was another first, because Gene usually liked his women to be more compliant. He liked to be the one in control.
Quickly returning to his senses, he realised he was just going to have to bide his time and wait for Rose to speak to her boss.
Moving across to the door, he glanced out at the now teeming rain and then back at the diminutive brunette. ‘All right, then. I won’t press you any further. But tell me... Is there anything I can do for you, Rose? Does someone as generous as you are, with your regard for others, ever have her kindness reciprocated? For instance I’d be very interested to know if you have a personal heartfelt desire. If you do, then all you have to do is say the word and I’ll do my utmost to help you get it.’
‘Why would you want to do that? I suspect it’s because you have some devious ulterior motive...’
Gene laid his hand over his heart and grinned. ‘You wound me deeply.’
‘If you could give me my “heartfelt desire” then you’d be much more than a mere man. Has it never occurred to you that not all heartfelt desires are material ones?’ Rose challenged him.
He shrugged. ‘I can’t say I spend much time thinking about it. I prefer to deal with the tangible, not the abstract.’
‘So in your world feelings are abstract, are they?’
‘Why don’t you have dinner with me and we can talk about it?’
She grimaced. ‘I’d rather have dinner with a boa constrictor! At least I’d know for sure what I’d be dealing with.’
In spite of his disappointment that Rose didn’t seem to believe he might just want to give her something that pleased her, and at not immediately strengthening his chances to buy the property, Gene found her answer undeniably amusing. To his surprise, he also found it indisputably seductive...
‘I can’t say I’m flattered, Rose, but that’s funny!’
‘You should stop calling me Rose. It’s Miss Heathcote to you.’
Gene smiled. ‘I can see that I’ve really got to you, haven’t I? All right, then—I’ll go. But you haven’t heard the last of me...not by a long chalk...Rose...’
He opened the door and, with a resigned grimace, walked out into the rain.
* * *
The phone rang in the early hours of the morning and a brisk-sounding nurse from the hospital informed Rose that Philip had taken a turn for the worse and asked if she could she please come in. Feeling numb with fear, she dragged on her jeans, T-shirt and Mackintosh and practically flew out the door.
When she got to the hospital and was directed to a ward she drew in a deep breath as she saw him. White-faced and fragile, he was lying in bed breathing through an oxygen mask and wired up to the kind of medical paraphernalia that told her this was serious.
All her worst fears crashed in on her at the same time. It hadn’t escaped her notice that her boss had been transferred to the same ward that her father had been in when he died. He’d had a fatal coronary whilst in hospital for investigation into something relatively minor, so it had come as the most terrible shock. Was this how Philip was destined to leave her as well? Rose could hardly bear the thought.
The doctor on call had diagnosed pneumonia and he told her that it was crucial they stabilised the condition and that he got plenty of rest. To that end they would be keeping him in longer than they’d first envisaged, and would be treating him with antibiotics and extra oxygen.
As she sat by his bedside holding his hand, Philip opened his eyes just once, to acknowledge that he knew she was there, and she gently assured him that everything was going to be all right, that he wasn’t to worry. But even as she said the words Rose didn’t entirely believe them. Suddenly the man who had been such a firm friend to her and her father looked worryingly old and haggard...and very, very ill.
Having tried so hard to hold back the tears during her visit, as soon as she got home she threw herself onto the couch and the floodgates opened.
* * *
They weren’t the last tears she cried over the testing week that followed. One day Philip was rallying encouragingly, looking a little better, and the next it seemed he was worse. Managing the shop as well as talking to an array of healthcare professionals about his aftercare, Rose was on a rollercoaster of emotion that one moment had her feeling hopeful for his full recovery and the next fearing the unthinkable...
She had all but forgotten her recent encounter with Gene Bonnaire. But one evening after work when she visited the hospital Philip told her he wanted to discuss something important. She had an uneasy feeling that the billionaire’s offer to buy the antiques shop was on his mind. A couple of days earlier she had shown him Gene’s offer. She was right. He clearly hadn’t felt ready to discuss it then, but he did now.
‘Rose...I want you to contact Mr Bonnaire and tell him that I’m going to agree to the sale.’
There was a flash of what looked to be deep regret in his pale blue eyes, and his expression was apologetic.
‘I’m disappointed that he doesn’t want to buy the business and that it won’t continue as I’d hoped, but in my present situation beggars can’t be choosers. Seeing as I haven’t had any other offers, and I’m advised I’m going to be housebound for quite some time after this, I’ll need to pay for private care. As you know, I don’t have any family, but at least I have some material assets that I can realise to help me—the main one being the antiques shop. The man’s offer for the building coupled with the antiques is more generous than I could have hoped for. He left me his card, didn’t he? Can you contact him and arrange a meeting?’
Fighting to regain her composure at the idea that she was going to have to talk to the Frenchman again, Rose replied ‘I’ll do whatever you want me to do to help, Philip, but surely you can’t meet with him to discuss things until you get out of hospital?’
Once more he was apologetic. ‘I’m afraid I can’t risk waiting that long. I need to sell the place as quickly as I can to free up some money for my care. I’m asking you to handle the sale for me, Rose. I’ve contacted my solicitor and he’ll draw up the necessary papers. This is his name and number.’
He opened the bedside drawer, took out a single sheet of vellum that he’d written on and handed it to her.
‘Anything you need to know, he’ll explain.’
‘It seems that you’ve made up your mind, then.’ Frowning, Rose felt her muscles clench tight at the idea of once again coming face to face with Gene Bonnaire and knowing that this time he would be the one who had the advantage and would undoubtedly use it for all he was worth...
‘Yes, my dear...I have.’
‘Then I’ll see to things right away. In the meantime you should try and rest as much as possible. The last thing you need is to be stressed about anything.’
Smiling fondly, Philip patted her hand as it lay on the counterpane. ‘I should have told you this before, Rose... I don’t know how I would have managed these past ten years without you. Without question, your loyalty, friendship and hard work have been invaluable and if I had been a much younger man I don’t doubt I would have fallen a little bit in love with you.’
Feeling her cheeks glow warmly, Rose smiled back—even as she remembered Gene Bonnaire’s ridiculous implication that her relationship with her boss might not be just a working one. What she’d give to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his handsome face when next she saw him! Only she couldn’t. She had to be nice to him because Philip urgently needed this sale. The last thing she would do was jeopardise things just because the man had rattled her.
But then, as she recalled that he’d asked her if other people ever reciprocated her kindness to them, she knew that the man had much more sensitivity than his very public persona suggested and thought that it would be intriguing to discover more...
‘It’s sweet of you to say so,’ she answered Philip, ‘but to be frank I think I’m destined to stay single. I’ve only been in love once in my life and it wasn’t the happiest of experiences. I’m not eager to do it again.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. Don’t you believe that it might be different the next time? Not so painful, I mean?’
‘No, I don’t. I don’t because—present company not included—I don’t trust men. I think I’d be better off on my own.’ She shrugged. ‘Besides, I’m far too independent, and men sense that. It would take someone pretty exceptional to get me to change my mind and I haven’t yet met anyone who fits that particular bill.’
‘Not yet, you haven’t, Rose, but you will...you will.’
With a knowing smile, the man in the hospital bed closed his eyes and, leaving him to doze, she folded the sheet of notepaper he’d given her, slipped it into her bag and discreetly left...
