Читать книгу Daring to Date the Boss / The Tycoon Who Healed Her Heart - Melissa James - Страница 10

AFTER a long moment Armand leaned forward, looking into her face. Those eyes had a power he couldn’t define—unless it lay in their utter guilelessness. He’d played the game of love so long with other players, being straightforward with a strange woman felt almost unfamiliar. He followed her suit, pushing his half-eaten lunch away. This discussion was too important to blur with food. ‘It’s obvious that the past few months have been harder on you than most people know.’

He waited for an answer but, as if refusing to hand her power over even in confirmation or denial, she kept her chin high and said nothing but merely waited.

When it was obvious she wasn’t going to answer his unspoken question, to make his task any easier, he decided to plunge ahead. ‘You need a place to stay with discreet staff, without needing to go out in public, or do your own shopping, et cetera. My resort is the right place for you. We offer you all the services you need.’

After what seemed like minutes of waiting, she bowed her head, stiff and cold. Just as he’d have done—in fact it was what he had done when he’d been barely seventeen, a rising star in the art-house industry and the secrets surrounding his father’s death had been resurrected in the name of public entertainment. ‘Go on.’

‘But this cabin is my home. If I don’t stay in it while I’m here, it will cause the kind of remark and speculation you need least at the moment—but, again, if anyone sees you here and recognises you, you end up with the same problem.’

He saw the flash of fear cross her face before it disappeared. There was something deeper here she was worried about than just her public reputation. ‘I don’t know whether I caused your problem, you caused mine, or both,’ she said, with a slow kind of horror.

‘Both,’ he replied dryly. ‘Mine is but a minor nuisance, Ms Chase. I believe your problem to be more serious.’ He left the air filled with the question unspoken. The women he’d known usually rushed to fill a conversational gap if he made it intriguing enough.

This woman didn’t even look up, or seem to notice he’d left a half-question dangling there. ‘But I caused it. If I hadn’t left my room …’ Frowning hard, she shook her head.

If he was reading the look in her half-fallen eyes correctly, she felt as guilty as she did fearful—and he had her right where he wanted her. The future of his resorts could be smooth, and her life set back on the right course, with just a little manipulation.

But he’d been hurt and manipulated when he was a boy. Long ago, he’d sworn he would never inflict his will on another, no matter what benefits it could bring him. Yet here he was, playing the worst kind of game, being his father’s son. Was history repeating itself—the one thing he’d believed would never happen?

He refused to give in to the guilt coursing through him. Damn it, this time it’s right.

‘All the regular guests will wonder if I don’t stay here,’ he said, drowning the guilt beneath the weight of arguments he thought would convince her. Yes, he wanted something from her, but he was giving as much as he got, relatively speaking. He might gain financial rewards, but she got what she seemed to need desperately—peace and quiet. ‘Apart from family, I’ve never had any woman here so your presence has already caused speculation.’

Another look crossed her face, similar to when she’d asked about the complaints against the staff. ‘I didn’t realise …’ Her eyes squeezed shut. Her mouth opened, made soundless motions, and then she said faintly, ‘Again, I can only apologise for the trouble I’ve caused you.’

Her embarrassment was too genuine to deny. Armand felt a crazy urge to run out of the cabin, get some fresh air to clear his head. The spoiled-brat media darling he’d assumed her to be an hour ago might have railroaded his staff into bowing to her will, but this woman’s conscience seemed even more radiant than her smile. She reminded him of a clawless kitten. Whatever the truth was inside Dr Pete’s press releases, a Delilah this woman definitely was not.

This could be almost too easy, except that Armand refused to stoop to stealing candy from babies. Or use another person’s conscience against them, to make them sing his tune.

‘Since you’ve made the name change, and with the subtle amendments you’ve made to your appearance, you could probably take another room without issue,’ he said, giving her a last get-out if she wanted to take it. A sap to his conscience, even if he was sure she wouldn’t.

‘Your staff recognised me within a day, looking just like this,’ she replied, with a despairing rather than pugnacious note. ‘Apparently, my accent and voice give me away. I’ve been trying to learn Swiss German, but I’m about as good with accents as I am on skis.’

Armand felt an unusual urge to grin. Rachel Chase seemed almost disastrously honest—a definite downer for hiding in this electronic-media world, but it was a trait he strongly respected. ‘Then we go with my plan. I’ll stay here with you. I’ll go about my business through the day as usual. Monika will—’

‘You want me to stay here with you?’

The squeak in her voice wasn’t feigned. For all the stories Dr Pete had put out about her, she didn’t seem the kind to fall into the arms of a rich man when he showed up on her doorstep—even if it was his doorstep. ‘In another bedroom, Ms Chase,’ he said in cool amusement. ‘The cabin has four of them. You obviously took the word “proposition” to heart.’

A flare of pink touched her cheeks, but her eyes flashed. Though he waited a full minute, she made no retort, didn’t try to defend herself. ‘Go on,’ she said eventually, sounding as angry as she looked.

‘It’s a necessary evil,’ he said, fighting the renewed guilt of knowing he’d backed her into a corner, but torn between anger and amusement at the fact that he’d finally found a woman who not only didn’t leap at the idea of staying with him, but fought it all the way. ‘My staff’s coming and going to the cabin throughout the day while I was gone has already caused curiosity. My regular guests have asked who the VIP is that’s staying in my cabin, since I only arrived this morning.’

Again, he saw the riotous flush fill her cheeks. She looked quite pretty like that, in a country-girl fashion. Natural and pure. ‘You seem to have learned a lot in a few hours. What did you do, take a general survey?’

She was quick-minded, he’d give her that. ‘It’s my job to know what’s going on in my resort, Ms Chase.’

‘You do it well,’ she muttered, but it wasn’t a compliment.

He didn’t thank her; it would only inflame her anger at suddenly finding herself helpless in a situation that had felt safe until he’d invaded her sanctuary an hour ago. ‘As you do your job well, from what I’ve seen.’

She only shrugged in reply.

Goaded, he said in a silky-smooth voice, ‘I asked nothing of my guests, nor did I say anything. I didn’t need to. Your total avoidance of the other guests has caused curiosity amongst those who come here hoping for a certain kind of company. My staff has been avoiding all the guests’ questions, but you don’t want them putting the pieces of your puzzle together. In other words, you need a good cover story, Ms Chase.’

She sighed and nodded. ‘Call me Rachel,’ was all she said.

‘Rachel, then.’ In saying her name, Armand took a step into unknown territory. It didn’t feel as casual as it had in the past, probably because she’d offered the intimacy with such reluctance. ‘I am Armand.’

She only nodded, frowning, serious.

‘The assumption is that you must be famous or someone special to me, since my cabin’s always been off-limits. The first causes the kind of speculation you need least and, as to the second, my sisters are well known here. I could pass you off as a cousin, but it gives you no reason why you wouldn’t mingle with the guests. So either you leave on that train tonight, or become my lover in the eyes of anyone who asks when I refuse to explain who you are.’

He stopped when he saw her pale, a reaction no person could fake. With those enormous eyes, she looked like Bambi after his mother had been shot. ‘I think it’s best if I leave,’ she said quietly, rubbing her wrist with an absent yet anxious movement which was horribly familiar.

Armand’s gaze narrowed. He used to do that with his finger in the years before his father had died and he took control of his life.

He went on as if he’d seen nothing. ‘But if it got about that you needed to run from here, it would ruin the reputation of my resort—and it has too many potential hazards for you.’

‘Such as?’ In her clear-to-read expression, there was a mixture of wariness to trust and an almost desperate hope that he had an answer to her problem.

‘People already know you’re in the run, Rachel—your pictures are on magazines every week. The accent, not to mention the eyes and smile, will give you away. If you leave now and go elsewhere, someone will recognise you, no matter what name you use,’ he said quietly.

She let out a tiny sigh. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of. I thought of using coloured contact-lenses, but over brown eyes it never really works. They end up looking muddy or weird.’

‘Disguises aren’t the answer. You need to stay out of the public eye for now.’ He made the assumption a matter of fact and, as she nodded, he felt the anticipation soaring. ‘You’re safe here, Rachel.’

The frozen look on her face relaxed. Slowly, the dazzling smile that was as endearing as it was puzzling was turned his way. ‘In the time I’ve been here, every member of your staff has worked hard to protect my identity.’

That smile, not to mention the fear crouching beneath it, left Armand more confused by the moment; all his assumptions had been torn away. From the moment he’d seen her start at the sound of his voice, the fear in her eyes too genuine to deny, the pieces had fallen apart. The rubbing of her wrist left Armand to re-form a puzzle he didn’t want to put back together. More than most people, he knew that fame and wealth did not guarantee a happy, trouble-free life.

Rachel wasn’t hiding in his resort just to build suspense to the right pitch before granting an exclusive interview to some glossy magazine for the requisite six or seven figures.

‘Your need for privacy exactly tallies with my own wishes. I’m about to purchase land for my third resort. Like my first one, it’s on the French side of the Swiss Alps. The local authorities investigate all new building projects thoroughly; complaints from my current guests are the last thing I need until the deal goes through. So, by solving both our problems this way, the work on my new resort will go ahead smoothly—if you’ll agree to my deal.’

He’d hoped to have her hooked by this time, but she half-tilted her head away from him, her gaze riveted to something about four inches from his face. ‘I’m listening,’ was all she said, but with the air of waiting for the axe to fall on her.

He leaned forward, hands on the table. ‘I stay here as usual, and will order a whole range of groceries to be delivered here, whatever you need. That won’t cause remark, as I often cook for myself. Some lunches and dinners I will spend in the resort with the guests, but I’ll be here the rest of the time. That’s my normal routine and we don’t need to break it. If by any chance someone sees you or us together, it’s easy for me to pretend to be indulging in a private romance with a mystery woman. Your name will never be mentioned. I’ll deal with inquisitive people.’ He lifted his brow with a cool, imperious air.

She bit her lip over that stunning, alive smile that filled her face. It made her look like a naughty conspirator. ‘I can see how that would work. I certainly wouldn’t ask, if you looked at me like that.’

He held in the grin; her mercurial moods were as infectious as they were baffling. ‘No member of the press can come unannounced through the gates onto the resort land, since the resort is solidly booked for months in advance. The only way in is through the dated key-card we send guests, and everyone that comes here wants the same level of privacy you need. If you stay here, you’ll have the luxury of being able to say nothing. If you cover yourself when you go out, and don’t talk to anyone but my staff, there is no reason that anyone should recognise you.’

‘You did,’ she pointed out. ‘Your staff did.’

He gave her a wry smile. ‘I heard your voice before I saw your face. It’s the voice that gives you away. Your show is on several channels here, dubbed into Italian, French or German for three of them, but the English cable-channel uses your face and voice for an advertisement for the show.’

She frowned and sighed. ‘I thought I’d be anonymous here.’

‘You are what you are, Rachel, but only for as long as you choose to stay famous. If you want to walk away from the life, people begin to forget soon enough and you can get on with whatever it is you want to do with your future.’

He’d spoken almost harshly, yet she smiled at him as if he’d handed her the key to the door of freedom. ‘Thank you,’ she said very softly, her eyes alight with relief, her entire face wreathed in the brilliance of her smile.

He had to wrench his gaze from her. When she came alive like that, it almost hurt him to look. ‘We can keep the pretence up for as long as you need.’

‘Oh, Armand … You don’t know what you just said, do you?’

Jerked back by her first use of his name, by the wonder in her tone, he saw the whole room had come alight with the force of that marvellous smile. It was so bright he fought the urge to blink and turn away. ‘What?’ he asked, fighting to keep his tone even and smooth. For years, he’d kept the façade seamless. How did she pull apart the edges of his control like that and look inside his soul without trying?

‘I might want a year, two years—and then you’d be stuck with me,’ she quipped, but wryly, so self-mockingly, he wondered if she had any plans to return to her public life. He noticed that she’d neatly sidestepped his subtle query on how much time she’d need with the lame joke.

His brows lifted. ‘I doubt it,’ he said, just as dryly. ‘There’s just one personal question I must ask: is there a prospective Mr Chase on the horizon to upset our plans?’

That subtle stiffening of her shoulders spread across her face and body. With deliberate grace, she sipped at coffee that must be nearly cold by now. ‘No.’

Though there was an invisible sign screaming ‘back off’ in neon letters, he forged on. ‘And there’s no chance of your reconciling with Dr Pete?’

She stilled for a few ticks of the clock, a few moments that seemed for ever. Her fingers rubbed absently at her right wrist again. It was an unconscious movement, a picture that told a million words he didn’t want to read. It was almost a full minute before she spoke. ‘No.’

Again, it was all she said. Though he waited another full minute for her to continue, she merely lifted her brows and turned her face to the big French cross-beamed doors leading to the balcony. She stared out over the terrasse to the Alpine peaks soaring above them with so much absent absorption, it bordered on rudeness.

In Armand’s experience, the less he said, the more a woman rushed to fill the silence. But Rachel sat silently, with a half-defiant smile that told him she didn’t care what he thought. No details given, not even an explanation as to why there was emphatically no man to fill the void Dr Pete had left.

When she remained stubbornly silent, he tossed a bomb to make her speak. ‘Don’t you want to know what I wish in return?’

Without looking at him, she said without expression, ‘You’ve already told me, I think. You want me to endorse the new resort for you, to extol the privacy and luxury of this one too, perhaps. You want me to bring other celebrities to your new resort when it’s built. You want me to advertise your resorts.’

By now he wasn’t taken aback by her perceptive guess—but he noticed that she didn’t even ask if she was right. ‘Yes, that is what I want,’ he said with a similar lack of animation, hiding how damned important it was to him. Someone as loved around the world as Rachel Rinaldi could help him crack the lucrative upper-end of the American market, and she’d fallen right into his lap. He could make the deal without months of negotiations and the endless hassle of speaking through lawyers and agents. He studied her face for a reaction. ‘Is it a deal?’

She shrugged with that slow elegance that felt like a wall being erected brick by brick. ‘I’m willing to do it, if you’re satisfied with such a poor bargain.’

He almost laughed in her face. Getting a woman as world-renowned as Mrs Pete to endorse his resorts was a coup of marvellous proportions for him, and she had to know it. ‘A poor bargain?’ he asked, tilting his head in clear enquiry. ‘Come on, Ms Chase, stop fishing for compliments. The whole world knows you were the one who caused the ratings jump in your husband’s show when it began failing. I’ve heard about the offer made to you since your split with Dr Pete. Your fans demanded you have your own chat show, taking Dr Pete’s place.’

‘That’s no surprise. Thanks to my, eh, husband’s public announcements about his love life and mine, half the world has heard about the offer.’

‘It’s all over the Internet and the news. People want to know where you are, what you’re up to.’

‘Trending now,’ she retorted in a self-mocking tone. She turned to him at last, but those big eyes were filled with an odd blend of self-deprecating humour and challenge. ‘But did you see that I’d accepted the offer? Is your idea contingent on my signing up for the show? You may be destined for disappointment.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of having my resort endorsed by a has-been, despite being one of the ilk myself,’ he said curtly.

‘I doubt anyone would call you a has-been. From what I hear, you chose to walk away from acting at the peak of your career—and this resort is truly beautiful without being overly opulent or flashy.’

He said, touched by the genuine praise, ‘Thank you, Rachel.’

She made a thoughtful face. ‘You know, when you think about it, loads of products get excellent endorsement returns from the average has-been.’ When he least expected it, she grinned. ‘I guess the regular Joe on the street will be able to identify with someone like me. My work has always been among the normal people. You’re quite perceptive, Herr Bollinger. It may turn out to be a sound business plan, if only your average schmuck could afford to stay here.’

She’d given away more than she knew. ‘So Dr Pete lied about the reconciliation and leaving you for the other woman in the first place? You’re not taking the job, either?’

Her cheerful demeanour vanished in an instant. ‘No comment.’

He squared his shoulders and sat back, only then realising he’d leaned forward, his hand almost touching hers across the table. What the hell had he been thinking to ask? He’d always prided himself on his discretion. So why had he asked?

Because, until now, women have told me their life story without my needing to make an effort. Rachel is my first failure since I was a teenager.

In an attempt to lighten the suddenly charged atmosphere, he said, ‘By the way, this is not the place to say “schmuck” to mean a person. People won’t understand. The original word means jewellery, mostly used, but it’s a general term.’

Her brows lifted, her darkness vanished in an instant. ‘My, how words change meaning in other languages!’ And she laughed, a rippling sound, loud and free. When she laughed, Rachel Chase laughed from the heart, and it made him want to laugh with her.

She was a constant surprise to him. Learning the little he knew about her had felt like he’d been pulling teeth, yet it left him feeling oddly fascinated, with a desire to know more.

Rachel was far from his usual type of woman. There was a sense that she’d left the most delicious parts of her conversation unspoken. Perhaps that was the source of his interest? ‘Maybe the meaning is not so different,’ he suggested, to discover what she’d say. Learning a single fact about this woman took more digging than he’d ever needed before. ‘It’s still something used, something tossed aside because someone no longer wanted it.’

She pulled a thoughtful face, looking like a pensive pixie. ‘That makes sense. We Americans merely made the leap from thing to person. Poor schmuck,’ she said again, and laughed. As if the sun had come out from behind clouds, the room seemed to light up with her face.

Armand had to drag his gaze away and get back to the business at hand. ‘So are you agreeable to my idea? If so, I’ll bring my suitcase in. Which bedroom are you using?’

She pointed to a door.

‘Ah, my mother’s old room.’ Before she could do more than briefly look horrified, he put up a hand. ‘Maman lives in her own house a few hours’ flight from here. She visits a few times a year. She’s not coming until summer now. She would be the first to say you’re welcome, Rachel.’ The name kept slipping so naturally from his lips, he barely noticed. ‘I’ll keep my room. The third is now a study, if you’ve noticed, with wireless Internet and computer. I can work in the hotel for a few hours a day, and if you need to work—’ he saw her stiffen again and added ‘—or need to keep up your communications, feel free.’

‘Thank you.’ Her voice was subdued, but she neither confirmed nor denied the subtle probe. It seemed he’d finally met the woman who didn’t want or need to defend herself against the accusations her ex had levelled at her. Whatever the truth was inside the story of Dr and Mrs Pete’s break-up, Rachel Chase obviously did not want or need to unburden herself to a stranger about her life, no matter how much he was helping her.

He didn’t care if she wanted to keep to herself—actually, it was quite refreshing. So from now on she would have what she wanted from him: peace and quiet.

‘I need to work for a couple of hours. I’ll be back before dinner.’ He gathered the lunch plates and coffee paraphernalia on one tray and stacked the other beneath. ‘There’s no point in hiding that I have a guest stying with me when people saw you take the tray. Do you mind if I order dinner for us? Is there anything you don’t like? What do you like to drink—wine, water, soft drinks?’

‘I don’t eat really spicy food, it burns my stomach,’ she confessed with a fledgling smile.

Strange, the way her smile hit him every time. Every time she did it, something or someone new seemed to peep out from behind the confident, caring persona of the woman he’d seen on TV—neither the frightened kitten nor the cool, defensive rebel he’d dealt with today. ‘And what is your drink of choice?’

‘I tend to stick to water at night, though I love the hot chocolate they make here.’

‘Consider it done; I’ll order both.’ He picked up the tray. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘Um, Herr Bollinger?’

He turned at the door, looking over his shoulder. ‘My name is Armand.’

‘Armand …’ The name rolled off her tongue with that gorgeous southern accent of hers. It sent the oddest feeling through him, a sense of waiting fulfilled. ‘Thank you. I’ll try not to be too much trouble.’

He almost said a paying guest is never trouble, but he held it in. Seeing the smothered anxiety beneath her calm façade, he wondered what had happened to make her feel unworthy of even the most basic help—but he was afraid he already knew.

‘I am doing very little,’ he said coolly. ‘A few weeks sharing my cabin, and I get an endorsement of my resort in return.’

When he saw her shoulders finally relax, he felt the tension disappear from his body, but when he left the cabin his mind was racing. If a woman as loved by her fans as Rachel Rinaldi could feel that she was a bother just by sharing his cabin, there had to be a damned good reason.

There must also be a reason why she wasn’t giving her side of the story to the world. Surely she must know that, given her intense popularity, she’d be believed?

There were definite, unexpected depths to this woman, layers she didn’t want him to see, things he didn’t want to know.

He’d failed Maman—he’d left her to the abuse he couldn’t stop until his father’s death. He didn’t know what the hell he could do to help Rachel. Anything he tried would probably make things worse. But he was committed to spending the next few weeks with her.

So what could he do to ensure it wasn’t a disaster that would send her running from here before he got his endorsement?