Читать книгу Taken Over - Пенни Джордан, Penny Jordan - Страница 6

‘CASSIETRONIC Enterprises.’ As always Cassie couldn’t quite prevent the excited leap of her heart as she glanced at the name of her company, newly engraved on the brass name plate just inside the prestige office block she had moved in to.

Had anyone told her three years ago that this was where her passion for computer games would lead her she would have scoffed at them. Then, nineteen years old, orphaned and very, very lonely she had entered the competition which had started her on her present road to success, in a mood of lonely defiance.

She hadn’t won that competition; she had come second, but looking back she was glad to be the loser because all the winner had to show for his skill was a job with Howard Electronics whilst she … She glanced again at the nameplate, her heart swelling with pride. If it hadn’t been for that chance meeting with David Bennett as she was collecting her prize … but why dwell on might-have-beens today of all days. She had met David, and he with his accountancy and financial skill had encouraged her to start her own business. This was her third year in business and she had more than rewarded David’s faith in her. Only last week a prestigious financial paper had run an article on Cassietronics, praising her flair for designing innovative new games and adaptations. Unwittingly Cassie frowned. All the publicity she had been receiving lately had had its adverse side too. She glanced down at her left hand and smiled as she caught the cold flash of her diamond engagement ring. One more month and Cassietronic would be safely installed under the umbrella of Peter’s father’s larger company, and safe from any further takeover approaches by Howard Electronics.

As she thought about Howard Electronics she frowned again, remembering how exasperated David had been by her point blank refusal to even discuss their terms. ‘But Cassie, they’re the best in the field,’ he had argued, ‘way, way ahead of Pentaton.’

In her heart of hearts Cassie knew that he was right. Joel Howard the brains behind Howard Electronics had a world wide reputation as a computer genius, whereas Peter, skilled though he was, was merely a good technician. Cassie knew that David couldn’t understand her preference for Pentatons; ‘a second class company, fast losing ground’ was how he had scathingly described them, but as Peter had enthusiastically pointed out, with her skill they could soon rebuild and expand their reputation; as his wife and the originator of Cassietronics she would be given a free hand with the future of her own company, and she would also be protected from any more takeover bids such as the one she had just been forced to endure from Joel Howard.

She knew that David would find it difficult to understand her antipathy towards Joel Howard. In David’s eyes Howard Electronics was everything Cassie could wish for—a safe harbour for her small company; a chance to expand and extend her range with the security of Howard Electronics’ financial backing behind her.

But nothing comes from nothing, Cassie had learned that lesson young, from an embittered father who had spent the best years of his life, standing helplessly by while an incompetent brother-in-law ran down, and eventually destroyed the company his father had handed down to him as his son, rather than into the hands of his far more competent but not related by blood, son-in-law. Cassie had never known if her father had married her mother purely because he wanted the company—she hoped not—but what she did know was that by the time she was ten years old her father, the brilliant maths lecturer, who had married one of his students and given up a promising career in order to help run his father-in-law’s company, had been reduced to the status of a cipher within that company, his pride destroyed; embittered by the wasteland that his life had become.

The year Cassie was ten the company had gone bankrupt; her mother had had a nervous breakdown and her father had had to return to teaching, but not this time as a respected university lecturer with all the privileges and power that entailed. The only post he had been able to obtain had been at the same huge comprehensive school Cassie attended and she had watched the disillusionment of what he had become slowly destroy her father.

Her mother had died when she was thirteen, slowly fading away until one day she simply released her hold on life, and with her father as her sole parent Cassie had learned from him the bitter lessons of his life. In his daughter he had discovered the same aptitude for maths that he had, and this skill had been honed and polished until Cassie far outstripped her fellow pupils. This had carried its own penance. It wasn’t ‘done’ for a girl to be even moderately good at maths, never mind brilliant enough to outstrip even the more senior pupils, and torn between pleasing her father and gaining the acceptance of her peers Cassie had gradually taught herself to accept that there would always be a gulf between herself and her schoolmates. Most of them treated her as though she were an alien life-form, teasing and tormenting her until she gradually withdrew from them to the extent where their barbs never touched her.

While her fellow students flirted and dated Cassie concentrated on her maths, and it had been from this that her interest in the new technology had sprung. Her father died the year she was nineteen from a heart attack, and it had been in a mood of bitter defiance at life following his death that she had entered the competition.

Her ability to design and pioneer computer games was something that still half amazed her. She had discovered in herself a deep hidden vein of imagination which, when harnessed to her mathematical skills, made her games far superior to those of her rivals.

‘Don’t ever forget that while you’re at the top of the tree now,’ David had warned her seriously, ‘computer games is a young people’s industry. One day you will grow stale, and you must prepare yourself for that day.’

She had already earned enough money not to need to worry about her financial future, and as Peter’s wife … She frowned, sighing faintly as she stepped into the lift which would take her up to her suite of offices. Her last game had been almost frighteningly successful. It had sent her company’s profits soaring, and it had been then that she first realised the dangerous waters her success was taking her into.

Other established companies had started casting envious eyes in her direction, especially the two leaders in the field, Howard Electronics and Peter’s father’s company Pentaton. She still seethed inwardly thinking of her one and only meeting—if it could be called that—with Joel Howard.

He had strolled into her office, smiling winningly at her as she lifted her head to look at him. Tall, at least six foot two, with an almost overwhelming breadth of shoulder, something inside her had retreated from him on sight. Brief memories of the agonies of her schooldays; the scorn of her class-mates and the taunting mockery of boys who had no doubt grown up into men like Joel Howard; arrogant; assured, all too aware of their sexual magnetism, surfaced and flooded out into reality, and as his navy-blue eyes skimmed over her she had been burningly aware of the plainness of her features; of her untidy cascade of mid-brown hair; the lack of elegance of her too thin five-foot-six frame; the dullness of her pale skin without make-up and the depressing ordinaryness of her hazel eyes behind the screen of the huge glasses which, in her moments of vanity, she deluded herself she needed only for close work.

That one considering look had summed her up and dismissed her—humiliatingly, the mocking warmth of his smile merely adding to the pain of the memories the sight of him stirred up. Once, long long ago she had fallen deeply in love—an adolescent crush, she recognized now, and only she could have been stupid enough to fall for the most sought-after boy in school; a boy who had made capital out of her badly hidden feelings for him, turning her into a laughing stock for his cronies. Her skin burned at the memory, and while being aware of it she had glared at Joel Howard with all the pent-up hatred of those times in her eyes.

‘My, my dragon lady,’ he had drawled, almost insultingly, she remembered, ‘whatever have I done to you? Or is it just the male race in general that you hate? I’d like to see your boss,’ he had told her, not bothering to smile this time, but eyeing her instead with cool, sardonically knowing eyes. ‘She is expecting me. My secretary made an appointment.’

Already he was looking beyond Cassie to the closed door of the inner office that was really hers. She had come into the outer office to use her secretary’s typewriter, and the bitter knowledge of how Joel Howard would view the reality of her identity had suddenly struck her. While he thought she was merely a secretary he had made no secret of his sexual contempt for her. When he discovered who she really was, no doubt he would use all the flattery and sexual skill he undoubtedly possessed to persuade her to give him what he wanted—and that wasn’t her. A mirthless laugh shook her slender body, racking it with pain. Oh no, men like Joel Howard didn’t want plain drabs of women like her. Joel Howard went for the glamorous model and actress type, she had seen his photograph in various periodicals, escorting them. He was known as the playboy king of the computer world. A man who had made a fortune by the time he was twenty-five, and who had gone on using his skill to expand his business empire until he was one of the two largest in the country. The other largest company was the one owned by Peter’s family—an older, less go-ahead company according to David, but she would rather sell her soul to the devil than ally herself to Joel Howard in any way, Cassie thought bitterly.

She didn’t want to remember the shrewdly assessing way in which his glance had slid over her tense body when she delivered the bombshell of her identity, but as she stepped out of the lift and into her office she couldn’t prevent herself doing so. He had stood there, towering over her, making her wish she had the forethought to stand up before she had told him. His suit was dark, and made of the finest, softest wool, fitting impeccably, as did his silk shirt. On the outside, he was the epitome of the successful businessman, but Cassie wasn’t deceived; at heart he was a hunter, a powerful, cruel predator, who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, and he wanted her company. Cassie had sensed that straight away, and a renewing surge of power had given her the courage to stand up to him, to deny the potent force of the charm he was directing at her, using to cloak a willpower so formidable that she could practically feel it reaching out to subdue her.

Afterwards when she had questioned David he had admitted that for once Joel Howard had bitten off slightly more than he could chew; that his investments in advanced, as yet undeveloped futuristic technology had drained his companies of capital reserves, and that if he wasn’t to be forced into abandoning his research he would have to come up with a market leader, and very quickly.

‘It isn’t Joel’s fault,’ David had assured her. ‘One of his top designers broke his contract and accepted a job in Silicone Valley—California,’ he had elucidated. ‘He took with him the new computer game he had been working on as part of Joel’s design team. Open industrial piracy, but there wasn’t a thing Joel could do about it.’

‘So now he’s decided to indulge in a little piracy of his own,’ Cassie had interrupted bitterly, ‘he wants my company—’

‘He wants to take you over, yes,’ David had agreed, mildly puzzled by the vehemency of her voice. ‘But I warned you you would have to expect this Cassie. You’re in an extremely vulnerable position at the moment—a very tempting and tasty little minnow surrounded by a dozen or more greedy dangerous sharks …’

‘And the law of the jungle being what it is, the biggest and greediest gets to gobble me up—well not this time,’ Cassie had told him emphatically.

David had tried hard to change her mind. ‘He’s the best in his field, Cassie,’ he had pointed out. ‘I can’t see what you’ve got against him.’

‘I can’t see us working together,’ Cassie had told him firmly. ‘He strikes me as the type of man who believes the best place for a woman is in the kitchen …’

She had said it scathingly, hurt and offended when David had smothered a totally male smile. Her mind made up in that instant that no matter how much David cajoled she would not allow Howard Electronics to swallow up her company.

It had been ten days after that that she had been approached by Peter Williams. She had liked him on sight, warmed by his sympathetic, hesitant manner, readily agreeing to a dinner date with him, flattered and encouraged by the interest and admiration he showed in her.

A month later he had asked her to marry him and she had agreed. Cassie had no illusions about herself. Peter would never have wanted to marry her if it hadn’t been for her company, but if she was honest with herself would she have agreed to marry him if it hadn’t been for her pressing need to protect it from Joel Howard’s aggressive greed?

It didn’t strike her as odd that she should be marrying simply for reasons of convenience. She liked Peter and they would work well together. Hopefully they would have children, although her mind withdrew timidly from the thought of physical intimacies between them. Peter had only kissed her on half a dozen or so occasions, his mouth dry and tentative, arousing only the mildest sensation of curiosity inside her.

So she had a very low sex drive; she shrugged off the waiting pain; hadn’t she always known that? And wasn’t it fortunate in the circumstances? There could be nothing worse than a plain woman longing to be made passionate love to, wasting all her life waiting for her knight on a white charger. No, although it hurt to be realistic, in the long run it was safer. She already had her independence; both financial and physical, and as she had learned from her father, that was the most important and most enduring thing in life. He had surrendered his to his wife’s family and had never ceased to regret it.

She and Peter had discussed their future carefully. She would continue to run Cassietronics independently of his father’s company. Peter would continue to work for his father. They would buy a flat in London, close to her office and then perhaps later she would work from home.

She had everything she had always wanted, Cassie told herself as she riffled through her mail, ignoring the small, nagging pain that suddenly surfaced in the memory of that tall dark-haired boy from school. How her heart and body had ached every time she looked at him. She had dreamed of his kiss, of his touch; mildly erotic painful dreams that robbed her of concentration. It was as well she had had that lesson, she told herself firmly as she applied herself to her post. She was a very wealthy young woman now, and a very vulnerable one. If she hadn’t had her dreams and illusions smashed then she could easily have been in danger of falling for some smooth-tongued opportunist who wanted her merely for her wealth.

Her aunt had warned her often enough recently that that was what could happen to her. Cassie sighed and pushed her letters to one side as she thought about Aunt Renee, her uncle’s widow. Bitterly resentful of the company’s failure, she blamed Cassie’s father for its downfall, conveniently overlooking the fact that her husband had been the one responsible for its demise. Uncle Ted was dead now like her father, and Aunt Renee, although only an aunt by marriage, was the only relative she had left. Sometimes Cassie felt as though her aunt hated her. She was bitterly vindictive about Cassie’s father, and never lost an opportunity of reminding Cassie how plain she was. Once beautiful herself she still had remnants of that beauty. She spent a fortune on clothes and at beauty salons, using the money Uncle Ted had left her to finance exotic holidays. Invariably when Cassie saw her she was being escorted by a much younger, far too handsome man. As a teenager Cassie had suffered cruelly from her malicious jibes.

Telling herself that she had missed nothing by not being beautiful Cassie suddenly froze as she flipped over a magazine and Joel Howard’s handsome face smiled back at her. Beneath the photograph was an article about a charity ‘do’ he had been attending and included in the picture was a petite, pretty blonde. Cassie’s mouth curled disdainfully. What was it when men like Joel Howard used their wealth and position to buy themselves pretty little playthings that the rest of the male world looked on in approving envy, yet when a woman did exactly the same thing, she was scorned and derided for it?

There was no such thing as equality for the sexes, Cassie thought bitterly ignoring the stabbing of her conscience which told her that Joel Howard would attract beautiful women even if he didn’t have a penny to his name. There was about him an aura of sexual magnetism that even she could sense, and wasn’t he just aware of it? That was why she disliked him so much, Cassie thought disdainfully. She loathed and despised the way he made capital out of his too obvious good looks. Yes, that’s right, she despised him, she told herself, savouring the thought, starting suddenly when the telephone rang abruptly.

She picked up the receiver, relaxing when she heard Peter’s gentle voice. What had she expected, she mocked herself. To hear Joel Howard’s deeply masculine, taunting voice? He wouldn’t approach her again. Not after the emphatic refusal to even talk to him she had given to David.

Peter was ringing to confirm the arrangements for their date that night. They were going out to celebrate their as yet unpublicised engagement, and to make arrangements for their wedding at the end of the month. Not until she was actually married to Peter would she feel completely safe, Cassie thought as she replaced the receiver. Safe? She frowned a little, force of habit encouraging her to analyse her emotions. From what or whom should she need to feel safe? Against her will her eyes were drawn to Joel Howard’s photograph and she stared blindly at it for several minutes before finally tearing her gaze away.

SHEWAS LATE leaving the office, primarily because of an idea she had suddenly had that she couldn’t wait to start working on. It was only when she happened to glance at her watch and realised the time that she had reluctantly left her computer.

Now she had barely half an hour in which to get ready for their date. Guilt smote her as she remembered the hair appointment she had made. She had wanted to look her best for Peter tonight, feeling that she owed it to him to make some special effort on his behalf. She knew why he was marrying her. It couldn’t be easy for him. She sighed faintly, studying her face in her mirror. Every feature was unremarkable save perhaps for the size and shape of her eyes and the delicate bone structure of her body, but Cassie could see no virtue in these. She was too thin; too pale and just generally too uninteresting.

When she had showered and put on clean underwear she opened her wardrobe doors. All the clothes inside it had been chosen for their anonymity; chosen to help her blend into a crowd and thus escape any criticism. Selecting a mushroom beige dress she tugged it on and fastened it. The loose, shapeless style disguised her slimness covering her from wrists to knees in dull beige. Against the dress her skin looked paler than ever, her hair even more mousy. Cassie normally wore it up in a neat chignon and she gathered it into this style with the ease of long practice. At one time she had worn it in one long plait, but she had been so teased for this at university that she had adopted a more mature style. She had once toyed with the idea of wearing contact lenses, but as she told herself that really she needed her glasses only for close work she had abandoned this idea. She put them on to apply a brief covering of make-up, adding her lipstick almost mechanically, wondering why it was that make-up did so little for her. A brief spray of the rich, oriental perfume Peter had bought for her, and she was ready. That the perfume did not suit her at all, did not concern her, Peter had chosen it and therefore she felt she must wear it.

She glanced down at the large solitaire weighing down her slender finger and picked up her coat. She was just putting it on when she heard her door.

Peter smiled when he saw her, leaning forward to give her a dutiful peck on her cheek. She couldn’t imagine Joel Howard embracing his dates so tamely. The thought made her face flame with anger. Why on earth was she thinking about him?

‘Ready?’

She nodded and smiled, following Peter outside.

‘My parents went on ahead to the restaurant,’ he told her with a smile. ‘My car’s outside.’

Peter’s parents. Cassie’s heart sank. She wasn’t too keen on her in-laws-to-be, finding Peter’s father brash and overbearing, and his mother another potential Aunt Renee. She knew that Isabel Williams was disappointed in her only son’s choice of wife; and she also sensed that even though Ralph Williams was pleased by the match, he was contemptuous of her as a woman. Sometimes Cassie felt that she wanted to scream that it wasn’t her fault that she was plain; that she still had feelings and could still be hurt, but she squashed the impulse. As she followed Peter into his car she found herself stifling the reckless desire to turn to him and demand that he kissed her, really kissed her. What on earth was the matter with her? She shivered despite the warmth of the car and Peter was instantly concerned.

‘It’s time I got a new car,’ he told her, frowning. ‘This one’s had it, but father replaced his Rolls earlier this year. Perhaps you could buy me a new car as a wedding present?’

Cassie knew that he was only teasing but somehow the words grated. She was getting oversensitive, she told herself. She had entered this engagement willingly enough; she had known why Peter had proposed; she couldn’t claim that she loved him any more than he loved her, so why this feeling of distaste; this desire to open the car door and run?

Bridal nerves? She smiled derisively. Hadn’t her father brought her up to face the truth about herself, no matter how painful? She was a plain, clever woman, whose fiancé was marrying her because of her cleverness rather than her beauty. Was that really any worse than being married for beauty? Beauty faded, ability lasted … so who really was the loser; the beauty or the blue-stocking?

Sighing, Cassie realised that they had reached the restaurant. Peter looked very attractive in his dinner suit, his fair hair gleaming under the lights in the foyer. It wasn’t his fault that despite his boyish good looks there was a weak, almost petulant droop to his mouth. He had been spoiled by his mother, Cassie knew; and she also suspected that Isabel Williams fully intended to carry on that spoiling after their marriage.

The restaurant was a popular one and full. They were shown to their table where Peter’s parents were waiting for them. Isabel Williams made a big show of kissing Cassie enthusiastically, but Cassie could see the rejection in her eyes, the smug female satisfaction in the younger woman’s plainness, and as she studied her mother-in-law-to-be’s immaculate make-up and expensive silk dress Cassie was acutely conscious of her own plain appearance.

Once their meal was ordered Isabel started to discuss plans for the wedding.

‘Talk to Cassie about that some other time,’ Ralph Williams ordered his wife. ‘Cassie, I want to set up a meeting between our two accountants …’ He went on talking and Cassie was suddenly and acutely conscious of being studied by someone outside their table.

So intense was the sensation of being watched that her skin prickled underneath it. She itched to turn round but refused to give in to the impulse, forcing herself to listen to Peter’s father. He was asking her about the work she had in progress, enquiring if she was working on anything new. She was just about to demur, hating talking about what she was doing until it was clear in her own mind, when she felt an overwhelming urge to turn round seize her. She had given in to it almost before she was aware of doing so, her breath catching in her throat as her glance clashed with the navy-blue stare of Joel Howard. He was seated two tables away, just simply watching her, oblivious to the chatter of his blonde companion. The look in his eyes was so savagely angry that Cassie rocked with the force of it. It was like shouting defiance at thunder and lighting, and her mind reeled away from the shattering impact of his anger. She had known he was angry at her refusal to talk to him, but the intensity of that rage was something she had not anticipated. It was several seconds before she could draw her glance away and in that time Peter became conscious of her lack of attention.

‘Joel Howard,’ he exclaimed in disgust, ‘what on earth is he doing here?’

His father spun round, frowning angrily at the other table. ‘He wants Cassietronics.’ He said it loudly enough for the other man to hear, and Cassie caught the flash of fury darken the navy-blue eyes to black. Fear, and something else coursed through her body, making her shake and cling to the safe security of Peter’s fingers. The stone in her engagement ring glittered and she could almost feel the instant Joel Howard’s attention became fixed on it, the expression on his face changing, hardening first to rage and then to contemptuous derision.

Quite distinctly above the murmur of conversation from the other tables Cassie heard his companion complaining, ‘Darling, what’s wrong? You look dreadfully angry.’

She could just hear Joel’s response, and as the cruelty of it drove what colour there was from her face, she knew that it had been pitched deliberately for her to hear it.

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he told the blonde, ‘I was just thinking that some men would sell their very souls, not to mention their lives, to get what they want.’

The blonde pouted, and Cassie couldn’t drag her eyes away even though she desperately wanted to. ‘Would you?’ she asked him archly. Across the intervening tables, his eyes locked on Cassie’s, contempt and derision mingling.

‘Not in this particular case,’ he drawled, and Cassie knew the words were meant for her. ‘There are some prices too high for any man to pay.’ His gaze left her face to slide contemptuously over her body and where she had been pale Cassie was now hot, with humiliation and rage; so bitter and angry that she was shaking with it. At her side Ralph Williams said something, and remembering his earlier question she replied brightly and a little too loudly.

‘As a matter of fact I am working on something new—it’s going to be a wedding present for Peter.’ She flashed a bright and totally meaningless smile at her fiancé, barely aware of what she was saying as she told him, ‘If it’s anywhere near as successful as my last one darling, it will buy you a whole fleet of new cars—and the garages to go with them.’

Ordinarily, Cassie would have been appalled by her behaviour, shrinking away from the crassness of it, but right now, all she cared about was wiping the derisive glitter from Joel Howard’s eyes; she wanted to see him humiliated as he had just humiliated her. Without saying the words he had told her plainly that in his eyes she had bought herself a husband; and that no woman would ever be allowed to buy him.

The rest of the meal passed in a daze. She drank champagne, she knew that, and she listened to toasts on their engagement. Later she and Peter danced, but although he held her close to his body, murmuring his delight at her earlier words, excitement making his body tense against hers, in reality she was far away from him, concentrating on the sight of Joel Howard, dancing with his blonde companion. Her head barely reached his shoulder and their bodies swayed together as intimately as though they had been making love … As they would make love later on. Cassie’s head swam with the intensity of her thoughts: she shivered in Peter’s arms, shaking with revulsion at the direction of her thoughts. They were an invasion of the other couple’s privacy; almost voyeuristic in their intensity and they shamed her to her soul. What was it about Joel Howard that prompted such a reaction from her; that drove her beyond the boundaries of logic and reason into a realm where emotions alone held sway?

She was relieved when the time came for them finally to leave. She was just waiting for Peter in the foyer when she felt iron fingers curl round her arm. She froze instantly, knowing with a knowledge that went beyond logic whose fingers they were.

‘Why are you marrying him?’

The contempt in his voice lashed her into swift retaliation. ‘I thought you already knew. I’m buying myself a husband. Peter is a very attractive man.’

‘Attractive enough to make you willing to part with Cassietronics?’ His voice derided her, telling her that he knew exactly why Peter was marrying her. She wanted to lash out and hurt him as he had just hurt her by laying bare the fact that without her skill, without her company Peter would never even have looked at her. It was one thing for her to know that, it was another for someone else; for him, to point that out to her, and suddenly she latched on to the thing that would wound him the deepest.

Baring her teeth in a parody of a smile, she said softly, ‘Oh no, but knowing that by marrying him I’m preventing you from getting Cassietronics makes it more than worthwhile.’

She pulled herself free of his grip before he could retaliate, walking on shaking legs to where Peter had just emerged from the cloakroom with her jacket. It was only when they reached the door that she turned round, impelled by something stronger than her will to look at Joel Howard. What she saw in his face made her pale and sway, shocked by the force of the implacable determination she saw written there; forced to acknowledge the message he was sending her with those cold, hard eyes. She might have thought she had won, but he hadn’t given up the fight yet. He still wanted her company; and he still meant to have it, with or without her consent.

As she settled into Peter’s car she was attacked by a cowardly desire to beg him to marry her tomorrow; but she fought against the impulse telling herself that she was reacting foolishly emotionally. What could Joel Howard really do? Nothing, nothing at all.