Читать книгу It Started With A Proposition: Blackmailed into the Italian's Bed / Contract with Consequences / The Passion Price - Miranda Lee - Страница 15

KERRY usually looked forward to the new client dinners. But tonight she would much rather have been out with Ben.

Running into him last Friday night—and finding out he was still single—had been a very pleasant surprise. He was her one ex that she truly regretted having broken up with. They hadn’t argued or anything. Ben had simply had the urge to travel.

Now he was back in Australia, and obviously wanted to take up with her where they’d left off. They’d spent most of the weekend together, and a few evenings this week, with Ben eager to take her to a concert tonight.

But, as Frank’s PA, Kerry was obliged not only to attend this dinner, but to help hostess the event. Frank was a widower, with no new partner, and he had no idea how to organise anything. It was always left to her to do the place settings, hire a caterer, buy the wine, choose the menu, and then make sure everything went off without a hiccup.

This month she’d chosen a new caterer, who was expensive but who came highly recommended. They’d also provided everything, right down to fresh flowers for the table. The chef was top drawer, having worked in several five-star hotels. The waiters were also experienced professionals, not fly-by-night casuals like some catering firms used.

Kerry still thought it would have been less trouble to go to a restaurant. But Stedley & Parkinson preferred the intimacy and the privacy of their boardroom.

Admittedly the boardroom was well equipped for such a function, having an excellent kitchen attached, plus two powder rooms just outside in the hallway. The boardroom itself was a very spacious and impressive room, with a huge mahogany table which comfortably seated twenty-four. The floors were polished wood and the walls white, a perfect backdrop for the colourful Australian artwork which decorated them. All originals, they were landscapes from famous artists such as Pro Hart and Albert Namatjira.

Kerry could understand why Frank chose to host these dinners here. She just resented the added workload, which was why she’d found this new catering firm, leaving her little to do except work out who would sit where.

Of course that wasn’t always as easy as it looked. Certain tensions among the staff at Stedley & Parkinson had to be addressed, with rival lawyers kept well apart. And there was always a surfeit of men, too, even amongst the new clients. Kerry was relieved that Jordan was coming. She’d put her between Mr Bortelli—who wasn’t bringing a partner—and Mr McKee, Jordan’s client, who also wasn’t bringing a partner.

All up, eighteen people would be at the dinner: six lawyers, their six most important new clients—four of whom had brought partners—and Frank and herself.

Of course not every new client the practice took on was invited. Only the ones who had serious money, or whose cases might provide the most publicity. Jordan’s new clients were always invited, because she took on cases which the press—and the public—found interesting.

As Kerry walked around the boardroom, making sure all the place-names were right, she wondered if Jordan would wear something different this month. Last month she’d turned up in the same outfit she’d worn the month before—a classic, but boring little black dress, with a high scooped neckline, long sleeves and a straight, not-too-tight skirt which covered up far too much of her excellent legs. The double-strand pearl necklace she always wore with it was just as prim and proper, though her shoes were not too bad: black, strappy and high.

Nevertheless, now that Jordan was engaged to Prince Charming she would definitely have to upgrade her wardrobe from off-the-peg-working-girl clothes to designer gear.

Men like Chad Stedley expected their wives to outshine everyone else. Jordan might not realise it yet, but she was about to enter a totally new world, where fashion and appearances would be critical to her success as Mrs Chad Stedley.

No longer could she get away with dressing the way she did. Some serious shopping was called for before Chad came back from the States. And Kerry was just the girl to go with her and give her advice.

‘Oh, doesn’t everything look lovely!’

Kerry glanced up with a smile already forming on her face.

‘Speak of the devil,’ she said, on seeing Jordan. ‘I like your hair.’ Too bad about the dress, Kerry thought ruefully.

‘Everyone’s still up in Frank’s office, having predinner drinks,’ Jordan said.

‘Yes—so why aren’t you?’

‘I walked by the door and simply couldn’t bear to go in and make meaningless chit-chat. So I dropped my purse off in my office and came straight down here to talk to you.’

Kerry grinned. ‘Coward. You just don’t want to—Oh, my God! You’re wearing the engagement ring. Here, give me a good look at it. Oh, my, it’s fabulous! Chad must have picked it out. I know you, Jordan. You would have chosen a single diamond solitaire, half that size, set in a simple claw setting.’

Jordan shook her head wryly at her friend. ‘And you’d be right. This is actually a family heirloom.’

‘How did he get it to you? By international courier?’

‘No. He left it with me before he went overseas.’

‘Because he knew you’d eventually say yes.’

‘How could he have known?’

Kerry rolled her eyes at her friend. ‘Because multimillionaires like him don’t get turned down.’

‘I’m not marrying him for his money, Kerry.’

‘I know that. You’re marrying him because you love him, and because you’ve finally got over that Italian fellow. Speaking of Italians—I hope you don’t have anything against Italian men in general, because I’ve seated you next to one tonight.’

‘Oh?’

‘He’s Henry’s new client. Contracts and mergers. I didn’t expect him to accept the invitation, since he lives in Melbourne. But, lo and behold, he did.’

Jordan’s heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t possibly be Gino, could it? Would fate be that cruel?

‘I hear he’s quite a hunk,’ Kerry added. ‘And filthy rich. He’s a builder. Of seriously big buildings.’

Jordan’s chest tightened. Oh, no, she thought with a mixture of disbelief and despair. It had to be Gino.

Fortunately, Kerry was in the process of checking the name cards and wasn’t looking at her. Jordan didn’t want her friend putting two and two together. And she just might if she saw the near panic which was bubbling up inside Jordan.

‘Does he have a name, this Italian?’ she asked, using her extra-cool court voice—the one she could conjure up no matter how she felt inside.

‘What? Oh—Bortelli. Gino Bortelli. Look, I’ll have to love you and leave you, Jordan. I can hear voices coming down the hallway. I need to let the caterer know that everyone’s arriving.’

She bustled off without giving Jordan a second glance, which was just as well.

For the life of her Jordan didn’t know how she hadn’t fainted. All the blood had definitely drained from her face when she’d heard that dreaded name, her head swirling alarmingly. She stumbled over and gripped the back of the nearest chair, afraid to turn around and face the main doorway. The voices were much closer, indicating that people were moving into the room.

‘Ahh…so there you are, Jordan,’ a male voice boomed.

Jordan winced. It was Frank—Kerry’s boss. And her boss.

Impossible to do anything but turn round. Yet she knew as she did so that Frank wouldn’t be alone. He would have their most valuable new client with him: the very wealthy Mr Gino Bortelli.

Despite being mentally prepared for the encounter, Jordan was still stunned by the sight of Gino, dressed to kill in a magnificent black dinner suit, complete with a white dress-shirt and a black bow-tie. Stunned, too, by what she saw in his black eyes.

Not surprise, as she would have imagined if this was a cruel twist of fate. But coldness. And contempt.

The realisation that he’d known she would be here tonight was instantaneous. The only question remaining was how come? Jordan hadn’t told him where she worked.

Gino should have been as shocked as she was.

But he wasn’t. Not at all.

Which meant what?

Somehow she managed a polite smile, but all the while her head was spinning with unanswered questions.

‘Hello, Frank,’ she said, reefing her eyes away from the man by his side.

‘Mr McKee was looking for you,’ Frank said, a touch irritably.

‘Really? Where is he?’

‘He had to go home. He said he could feel a migraine coming on.’

‘What a shame,’ Jordan said, thinking to herself that she wished she’d thought of that. Then she could have fled this extremely difficult scenario.

Running away from difficult scenarios, however, had never been Jordan’s style. She liked to face things head-on.

Which was hardly what she was doing at this moment.

It took an effort of will, but she finally turned her eyes back to meet Gino’s.

‘And who’s this, Frank?’ she asked coolly, and watched with some satisfaction as Gino’s shoulders stiffened.

But no way was she going to give him the opportunity to say anything embarrassing in front of her boss. And he might, if she admitted to already knowing him.

‘An extremely valuable new client,’ Frank replied pompously. ‘Mr Gino Bortelli, CEO of Bortelli Constructions, one of Melbourne’s finest building companies. Henry helped him out last week with a contract.’

Ahh, so that was how he came to be here. Jordan wondered if someone had mentioned her name whilst he’d been here, signing that contract.

No, that couldn’t be right. Gino hadn’t even known she was a lawyer last Friday night, let alone where she worked.

‘Hopefully, Gino will do Stedley & Parkinson the honour of letting us represent him in all his future business dealings in Sydney,’ Frank added.

Jordan was used to Frank sucking up to wealthy clients, but he seemed to be outdoing himself this time.

‘Unfortunately Henry called in sick at the last moment,’ he swept on, before Jordan—or Gino—could say a single word. ‘So I’ve been introducing Mr Bortelli to everyone. Jordan’s one of our finest young litigators, Gino. She’s gained quite a reputation during the few short years she’s been with us.’

‘Don’t flatter me, Frank. How do you do, Mr Bortelli?’ Jordan said, but refrained from holding out her hand.

‘Very well, thank you,’ Gino replied with a cool nod.

‘I’ll leave you in Jordan’s good hands. I seem to recall Kerry has seated you next to each other. But don’t get any ideas, Gino. Our Jordan has recently become engaged. To Chad Stedley,’ he threw over his shoulder as he turned away. ‘Our senior partner’s son and heir.’

‘Congratulations,’ Gino said, his tone polite but his coldly contemptuous eyes spearing into her very soul.

Jordan could not help the guilty colour stealing into her cheeks. Luckily, Frank had turned away, and was already showing other guests to their seats around the table.

‘So, is this the way we’re going to play it tonight, Jordan?’ Gino went on caustically. ‘Like we’re total strangers?’

Jordan gave him a long, cold look of her own. ‘Everyone is sitting down for dinner, Mr Bortelli. I suggest we do the same. This way…’

He followed her round to the far side of the table, where she indicated his seat, right next to hers. Fortunately, nobody made any move to remove the place-settings on either side of them, meaning their conversation would not be easily overheard. Also fortunately, Kerry was seated to the left of Frank, on the same side of the table as Jordan, which meant she wouldn’t witness any telling interplay between Jordan and Gino.

Once they’d settled in their chairs and the entrées had been served—tempura prawns on a salad base—Jordan decided to stop playing word games and cut to the chase.

‘You’re being here tonight is not a coincidence, is it?’

‘My hiring Stedley & Parkinson as my legal representative was a coincidence.’

‘But you knew I’d be here tonight?’

‘Yes.’

Jordan’s frustration level rose. ‘Care to elaborate on that?’

‘No.’

Jordan tried to think. Gino had always had difficulty taking no for an answer. She’d rejected him last Friday night. Had he had her investigated, perhaps? Found out where she worked? Found out about Chad?

She wouldn’t put it past him.

‘It must be difficult for you,’ Gino said quietly, ‘with your fiancé overseas. You must miss him.’

Jordan’s heart lurched. ‘How do you know that Chad’s overseas?’

‘Maybe Frank told me.’

‘He didn’t, though, did he? You’ve had me investigated.’

‘My, my, what a suspicious mind you have. Must come from being a lawyer.’

‘What is it that you want of me, Gino?’

He put down his entrée fork and slanted a smile her way.

It was a wickedly provocative smile—one which set her heart racing. And not from anger.

‘What I’ve always wanted when I’m around you, Jordan,’ he murmured, his sexy black eyes suddenly going from arctic cold to tropical heat.

When her hand began to tremble, she too put down her fork. Jerking her eyes away from his, she picked up her wine glass, gripping the stem tightly as she lifted it to her lips and swallowed a deep gulp.

The action allowed her to recover her composure a little. But her heart was still thudding loudly behind her ribs.

Finally, she turned her head to face him, her expression firm.

‘I did not become engaged till after last Friday night,’ she told him.

‘And you think that exonerates you?’ he muttered under his breath. ‘You called me a liar and a cheat, Jordan. Yet all the while you were the liar and the cheat. I know exactly what happened last Friday night. You thought you could have your little bit of Italian rough whilst your wealthy lover was away. But when you found out I wasn’t who you thought I was, you panicked and did a flit. But not before you dumped a whole lot of guilt on me. You even called me a coward. No one calls me a coward, Jordan, and gets away with it.’

Jordan’s head spun with his vicious attack.

But Gino wasn’t finished yet.

‘What would happen, do you think, if I told your precious Chad what you were up to while he was away? I doubt you’d be wearing that ring for long. Or working here at good old Stedley & Parkinson’s. They’re a rather old-fashioned firm, aren’t they?’

Once again all the blood drained from Jordan’s face. It was as well she was sitting down. Shaken, she picked up her wine glass again and took another swallow, giving herself some more time to regroup. Finally, she put down the glass and picked up her fork.

‘So this is what tonight’s about, is it?’ she bit out, spearing another prawn. ‘Revenge. How typically Italian.’

‘Indeed,’ he agreed. ‘You would have done well to remember that when you wounded my pride and my sense of honour.’

‘You call it honourable to have me investigated?’

‘A man has to do what a man has to do.’

‘And what do you have to do, Gino?’

‘I have to be with you again, Jordan,’ he said, his voice vibrating with the most seductive passion. ‘Tonight.’

Jordan only just stopped herself from gasping with shock. Instead, she lanced Gino with a dagger-like glare.

‘Dream on, buster. Look, I told you last Friday night, and now I’m telling you again: it’s over between us—has been for ten years. Last Friday was a big mistake on my part.’

Gino smiled a coolly confident smile. ‘If you don’t do as I ask, I will inform your beloved fiancé of what happened last Friday night. Somehow I don’t think it will rate with him that, technically, you weren’t engaged at the time.’

‘Why, you ba—’

‘Hush,’ he broke in swiftly. ‘You wouldn’t want dear old Frank hearing you swear at such a valuable new client, would you?’

Jordan shot him another savage glare before grabbing her wine glass again, and emptying it down her throat with a speed which had several pairs of eyes glancing her way across the table in surprise.

She never drank much at these company dinners. Never did anything which anyone could call remotely reckless, let alone wicked.

Jordan knew Gino’s ultimatum was wicked. And without care for her future well-being. His wanting her was strictly sexual, his desire made stronger by his need to strip her not just of her clothes, but her pride.

But, despite all that, Jordan had the dreadful suspicion that in the end she would go along with what he wanted—not to keep him silent, but because, down deep, she wanted to spend the night with him.

That had to be wicked. She had to be wicked.

Either that, or she was still in love with Gino.

But how could she love a man who would do such an appalling thing as try to blackmail her into bed?

No, this wasn’t love which was making her blood roar like red-hot lava around her veins. This was lust. A lust so exciting and so powerful she had no chance of resisting it.

Sexually, she was putty in his hands. Always had been. Always would be.

At the same time, she could not allow Gino to suspect her weakness. That would be setting herself up as a perfect victim for his voracious carnal appetite. Safety lay in letting him think that she despised him for doing to her.

Though she wasn’t at all sure that she did. His daring excited her almost as much as his desire.

God, but she was hopeless where he was concerned.

Thank heavens she’d perfected the art of steely composure to cover any inner nerves.

‘Blackmailers are notorious for never being satisfied,’ she said curtly. ‘If I do as you want, what’s to stop you demanding more after tonight is over?’

‘I give you my word that if you spend tonight with me I will go home to Melbourne in the morning and never bother you again.’

‘Pardon me if I don’t put much store in your word.’

‘What alternative do you have?’

‘I could tell Chad what happened last Friday. He might understand.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ Gino growled.

And neither would Chad, Jordan conceded.

‘It’s not too much to ask, is it?’ Gino went on. ‘One night with me, in exchange for a lifetime as Mrs Chad Stedley.’

‘What’s to stop you causing trouble in my marriage at some future date?’ she asked curtly.

‘Nothing—other than my word. But I presume once you’re married you will move to New York. As much as I’m going to enjoy having you at my beck and call tonight, I doubt I’d travel that far for a repeat performance.’

‘Does your family know that you’re a heartless, conscienceless bastard?’

His face darkened. ‘Leave my family out of this.’

‘Gladly.’

‘So, what’s your answer, Jordan?’ he snapped. ‘Do we have a deal or not?’

Jordan grimaced, then gritted her teeth. Why was it just him who could make her heart race like this? Who could make her forget her pride? Could make her crave the things he did to her?

It infuriated her that she was so weak with him when normally she was a strong person, with a mind of her own. If it was any other man she would tell him to go to hell. There again, if it had been any other man she would not have willingly had sex with him last Friday night.

‘You do realise I will hate you for ever for doing this?’ she grated out under her breath.

‘It’ll be worth it,’ he returned coldly.

What would be worth it? she wondered, and worried.

An image popped into her mind, that of herself standing naked in front of him last Friday night and swearing that he would never see her like that again.

Bold, brave, foolish words. Words which Gino was obviously determined to make her regret.

The waiter taking away their empty entrée plates put paid to any conversation for a short while. The second of their crystal wine glasses was filled. Still white, but a Chardonnay this time, instead of the crisp Chablis which had accompanied the seafood cocktail. Clearly the main course was going to be something light.

‘I should tell you to go to hell,’ Jordan bit out, once the waiters had moved away from them.

‘You should, but you won’t. You’ll do what I want.’

‘Don’t be so sure.’

‘But I am. Because I’m not the only one here who’s heartless and conscienceless. Not to mention ambitious. Oh, yes, let’s not forget ambitious.’

‘You know nothing about the woman I am.’

‘Neither do I want to. I might have once. But I now prefer to keep my knowledge of you to the biblical kind. So is it a deal, Mrs Stedley-to-be? Will you trade total surrender of your body tonight in exchange for my silence?’

‘Total surrender?’ she repeated, aghast and aroused at the same time.

‘Didn’t I mention that?’

‘No,’ she said, shaken by the level of her sexual excitement.

‘I will not ask you to do anything you haven’t done with me before,’ he said.

Jordan suppressed a groan. That didn’t leave much, if anything at all. Her sex-life with Chad had never been as adventurous as it had been with Gino. Not even remotely.

‘You have ten seconds to seal this deal,’ he said, with chilling finality, ‘or I will do what I said I would. Immediately. I have your fiancé’s personal phone number in the menu of my cellphone. A simple visit to the gents will give me the opportunity to call him right now.’

Jordan would have called his bluff if he’d been any other man.

But she knew Gino meant it.

‘In that case,’ she said, her stomach contracting as she tried to imagine the consequences of Gino’s appalling ultimatum. ‘It’s a deal.’