Old Desires/A Stranger's Kiss (2-in-1 edition) (29 page)

‘Until Jane comes back?’

His mouth tightened. ‘Jane won’t be coming back.’

Of course not. She could hardly deposit the boss’s son in the fifth floor crèche every morning. She had been conscious of the dull ache in her chest all day, but now it threatened to explode. She clenched her hands. Keep to business. Think of business and it would be all right.

‘Would you like me to look for a new secretary for you?’ she asked, with every evidence of being completely calm. Completely in control. This seemed to anger him.

‘Why not? Just make sure she’s middle-aged and plain and wears flannelette underwear.’

Tara’s cheeks flamed. ‘I’ll keep those requirements in mind, Adam, but frankly, I prefer to make my judgements on skill and personality.’

‘Do you? Well, to be honest I don’t care overmuch whether she can even type, Tara. Just so long as she doesn’t answer back!’

There were tears burning against her lids now and she had to get out before they began to fall. She grabbed blindly for her bag and her coat. ‘I’ll bring someone in the morning. Walk them through the system.’

‘No. You managed. So must she. I don’t want you here.’ He caught her arm and swung her to face him. ‘Have I made myself clear?’

‘Let go of me!’

He looked down at his hand on her arm, as if wondering how on earth it had got there. Then his eyes flashed up into hers.

‘I’ll let go in my own good time.’

‘Adam!’

‘Before you go you’ll have to settle your outstanding obligations.’

‘I have no obligations to you—’

‘Your outstanding fee for services rendered.’

‘What—’

He drew her slowly towards him. She was shaking her head, pulling desperately in her need to get away. But there was no escape. His eyes fastened her to the spot like a butterfly on a pin. Barely conscious that he had released her she still could not turn and run.

He took her bag and coat from her lifeless fingers then, his hands at her waist, warm, strong, electric through the smooth cloth of her jacket, he drew her towards him. His mouth was closer now. Descending slowly, as if he didn’t want the moment to pass. Slowly, drawing her body along the length of his. Slowly, while he drank in every feature as if for last time. His lips touched her forehead, her brows, gently caressed her eyelids.

Tara moaned as if in mortal agony, but his mouth was relentless in its soft seduction. It courted her temples, wooed the curve of her jaw and the delicate, sensitive skin below her chin. The touch of his lips to hers was both a relief and a menace. Somewhere, deep inside she knew she should be fighting for her survival. There was some good reason why she should fight this seductive pleasure. But her body wasn’t listening.

Softly his lips moved across hers, tempting, flirting, drawing from her little whimpers and moans of longing that she wasn’t even aware of. His tongue flickered teasingly and her lips parted in welcome. This was the kiss she had waited for all her life. Nothing had ever prepared her for the singing sensation, the glorious power she felt surging through her. Nigel had never made her feel remotely like this. Nigel...

She wrenched herself free and fell back against the desk. What on earth was she doing? A few minutes ago this man had said he never wanted to see her again. He was simply extracting payment for a totally imaginary good deed.

‘Tara!’ He reached for her to help her to her feet, but she rejected him.

‘That’s enough!’ She straightened, drawing herself to her full height. Not enough. Not nearly enough, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Adam stepped back. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to consider your fee paid in full, Adam.’ She fumbled in her bag. ‘Here’s the key to your private lift. I shan’t be needing it again.’ She flung it on the desk, pushed past him and ran.

She tried the button to summon the main lift. But the door opened behind her and she would not wait. She fled to the stairs and began to run helter-skelter down them. She had to get away whatever it took.

She reached the ground floor gasping, almost retching. And still she had not escaped. He was there, swearing softly as he lifted her, carried her to his car. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t scream that she just wanted to be left alone. But the grim cut of his face was a warning that it would make no difference. He was in no mood to listen.

They reached her flat in a few moments and once more he was at her side before she could move. The pain in her chest was beginning to subside, but she hadn’t the strength to push him away when he lifted her from the car and carried her up the steps.

‘Open the door, Tara.’ She opened her bag with shaking fingers and found her keys, jabbing desperately at the lock until it slid home and the door swung open. He carried her through without a word and deposited her on the sofa.

She heard the sound of water running and then he was handing her a glass of water. ‘Sip this.’ She did as she was told. He sat for a while in the chair opposite, saying nothing, elbows on his knees, his head slumped forward, simply waiting until she had recovered sufficiently to sit up. Then he stood up and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

She heard the car start and drive away and then for a long time there was nothing but silence.

* * *

Beth exclaimed with delight when she opened the office door and found Tara already at work.

‘Hello early bird. You’re a sight for sore eyes! I’ve been rushed off my feet.’ She chattered on about the sudden upturn in business as she plugged in the coffeemaker. ‘I don’t know what you did for the gorgeous Mr Blackmore, but we’ve placed two senior secretaries at Victoria House and I’m looking for a permanent junior. Do you know anyone?’ She didn’t wait for a reply. ‘And I’m going to see Jenny on Thursday about getting some computer staff in there.’

‘Just be sure to get off the lift at the right floor.’ Tara advised, cryptically, without looking up from the file. ‘There are one or two girls I’ve interviewed recently, who might do. And I’ve sent Mary Ogden to work for Adam while I find someone permanent for him.’

‘Mary?’ Beth said doubtfully. ‘She’s very good of course, but I wouldn’t have thought she was quite his style.’

Tara considered the starchy fifty-year-old. ‘On the contrary, although I can’t guarantee she fulfils every one of his stringent requirements, I believe she will suit him admirably.’

Beth gave her a long look, then shrugged. ‘You know your business I suppose and you’ve worked for the man. What was the overseas trip like?’ Tara finally raised her head and Beth smothered a gasp as she saw the painful shadows beneath her eyes. She started to say something, but changed her mind and forced a laugh instead. ‘Perhaps Mary is a good idea after all.’ She busied herself with her post and the day’s work began.

If Beth noticed that Tara was tense as a spring, jumping every time the telephone rang she made no comment. Gradually though, as the day wore on and she became more deeply immersed in following up the opportunities for work for her girls, she began to uncoil. Once or twice she caught Beth looking at her sympathetically. It had a bracing effect, straightening her back, reminding her to paint the smile back on her face.

‘I’m just going to get some sandwiches for lunch,’ Beth said suddenly, at about twelve.

Tara didn’t look up from the telephone directory. ‘Fine. Get me—’ But Beth hadn’t waited to hear what she wanted. The door closed with a bang. Tara looked up, exasperated. ‘Well, thanks...’ The words died on her lips as she saw Adam standing in the doorway.

‘I believe that is what is known as a strategic withdrawal.’ He flicked the lock.

‘What do you want, Adam?’

‘Is that any way to greet someone bearing gifts?’

‘I don’t want any gifts from you.’

He perched on the edge of her desk, not in the least put out by the sharpness of her tongue. ‘But this isn’t from me.’ He produced a small box from his pocket and an envelope. ‘It came by courier this morning. All the way from Bahrain.’

He handed her the small leather covered jeweller’s box. She looked up at him, puzzled. ‘What is this?’

It was his turn to be sharp. ‘Open it and see.’

She pressed the catch. On the bed of velvet nestled a pair of creamy pearl ear studs. ‘Oh, how beautiful.’ He took the box from her hand and examined the contents.

‘Yes. A pair of pearls, matched for colour and size. Quite exquisite. From the Bahrain pearl beds of course.’ He regarded her with wintry eyes. ‘Hanna has excellent taste. They will suit you perfectly.’ He handed them back to her. ‘Try them on.’

‘Hanna sent them for me?’

‘The letter was sealed, but I took an educated guess. Who else could it be?’

‘You didn’t steam it open to make certain?’ She snapped the box shut. ‘I don’t want his letter and I don’t want his pearls. Send them back.’

His lip curled slightly. ‘There’s no need to be so dramatic. It’s simply his way of apologising.’

‘I don’t need his apology. As you took so much trouble to point out, I had no one but myself to blame for what happened. Send them back,’ she repeated, stubbornly.

‘I can’t do that, Tara. If I send them back he will simply assume that I never gave them to you.’

‘And that matters to you?’

‘I may have mixed feelings about the man, but he is a brilliant money broker. For the moment we are partners in raising funds for my latest project.’

‘I’m afraid that’s your problem. I don’t want them.’

He smiled slightly and stood up. ‘You could always sell them. The money would make a quite a dent in your overdraft.’

‘What do you know about my overdraft?’ she demanded.

‘I didn’t know anything. But your reaction tells me plenty.’

‘Adam!’ she protested, as he moved to leave. ‘You can’t leave these here.’

But he had already opened the door, carefully replacing the catch. ‘Consider it a bonus, Tara. After all, you clearly earned it on your visit to the beach pavilion. I’m sorry I misunderstood the scene in the summer house. If I hadn’t interrupted you would surely have had the necklace to match.’

She flung the stapler at his head but too late. He had already gone. It bounced harmlessly off the wall and fell to the floor.

Beth bent and picked it up as she returned, replacing it on the desk without comment. ‘I bought you cream cheese and smoked salmon. You look as if you could do with a treat.’

‘Bribery will get you nowhere, Beth Lawrence. How dare you skip out like that and leave me alone with him!’

Beth had the grace to blush. ‘I’m sorry, but he didn’t look as if he wanted an audience.’

Tara sighed. ‘No. I don’t suppose he did.’ She opened the envelope. There was a small certificate from the jeweller guaranteeing the authenticity of the pearls, and a note.

Hanna had been brief. “Forgive me, beautiful Tara. I did not understand. Hanna.”

She picked up her pen and wrote simply, “Forgiven. Tara.” Then she called an international courier service and sent the pearls back.

* * *

Mary Ogden, white lipped and quivering with indignation, came into the office just after three the next day. ‘I’m sorry, Tara. I did my best, but that man is impossible to work for.’

Tara’s heart sank. ‘You’ve left Mr Blackmore?’

‘My ability has never been questioned before.’

‘I’m sorry, Mary. I know he’s not the easiest man in the world to work for and I — er — believe he’s been under some strain recently. But I really thought you would have been able to cope.’

‘Of course I could have coped. I simply asked him to slow down a little when he was dictating.’ She assumed a look of injured dignity. ‘He said his last secretary could keep up with him!’ She made a noise that suggested no one could keep up with him. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my shorthand and I told him so.’

‘And that’s when he asked you to leave?’

‘Not in so many words.’ She compressed disapproving lips. ‘He simply suggested that if I was having a problem keeping up with him I had better look for a less demanding job. I told him that I have worked for—’

Tara smothered a groan. ‘Yes, Mary. Your experience is without question. Sit down and have a cup of coffee.’ She soothed the ruffled feathers, promised to try and find her another job as quickly as possible and heaved a sigh of relief when she finally departed.

Beth chuckled. ‘Do you think he’s trying to tell you something?’

‘What?’ Tara snapped.

Beth raised her hands in surrender. ‘Sorry. None of my business. What are you going to do now?’

‘I’m not quite sure,’ she said, reaching for the telephone, ‘but I’d better do something.’ She made arrangements with another of her temps to take Mary’s place.

‘Don’t you think you ought to have warned her?’ Beth asked, when she replaced the receiver.

‘No. It’ll only make her nervous.’ Beth looked sceptical as she dialled Adam’s number and waited with growing trepidation for him to pick up the phone.

‘Adam Blackmore,’ he barked down the phone. Tara waited. ‘Hello?’ Marginally more friendly she thought, crossly. But not good enough. There was a pause then a soft laugh that sent shivers down her spine. ‘Hello, my lady. I wondered how long it would be before you phoned.’