Web of Deception (2 page)

“None at all but I haven’t been that bad. I think I’ve done okay as a host.” He swept one hand across the table. “Because if the quality of the food isn’t up to standard, you can always put in a complaint.”

She looked up at him through thick lashes. “And who is the customer affairs person at Webb Corp?”

He
grinned. “All complaints come straight to the top.”

“You’re not too busy for that?”

“I believe in the personal touch.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t waste your time getting too ‘personal’.”

Turning her head away from him, a hint of boredom in her voice, she oozed confidence. She wrapped those lush lips around the prawn, enjoying a final bite, seemingly so taken by the food that she’d forgotten she was in a room full of people. She was taking her time, savouring every mouthful, her expression one of complete satisfaction.

Daniel couldn’t help but wonder if she enjoyed some of life’s other pleasures with the same level of sensuality.

If there was one thing he knew well, it was how to make the most of everything life had to offer.

S
he was so wonderfully, completely oblivious to the lascivious thoughts running through his mind as she munched on the hors d’oeuvres. Did she think the appetisers were more important than he was? It made him smile.

“Is something funny?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not at all. I’m glad you’re enjoying the buffet so much.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Most of the women I know would probably spend extra time at the gym if they were going to indulge in anything deep fried. They’d be much more likely to go for a salad. Without dressing.”

“Then they’d be missing out.”

He stepped closer to her. “And clearly you don’t want to miss out.”

“Exactly. I me
an…” Recognition flashed in her eyes as she got the innuendo and quickly backtracked. “The tempura. The buffet. I wouldn’t want to miss out on all this wonderful gourmet food.”

“
There’s so much more where that–”

He couldn’t finish his sentence as another guest tapped him on the shou
lder. Daniel didn’t want to chat and brushed the guy off quickly. Looking across, he saw Kate was still there, though for how much longer, he didn’t know. She’d put her plate down and seemed to be looking for someone.

There were too many people here, too many interruptions. And he didn’t want her to get away.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he said. “My study, perhaps.”

“Why
would I want to do that?”

He’d made similar suggestions to many women on various occasions but none had questioned it. Ever.

“To talk,” he replied. “It’s rather noisy in here.”

She let out a little laugh. “You’re not going to offer to show me your etchings
, are you? That’s a bit of a cliché. Or – don’t tell me – you’ve got some Old Masters in there. Perhaps some Impressionist works. Maybe the odd Monet.”

“No Monets. Just one Paul Klee.”

“You’re kidding.” She stared at him. “No, you’re not. You really do have a Klee.”

He
nodded and when he offered his arm, she took it, though he hadn’t thought she would. Such a lovely surprise. As he led her down the short hallway to his office, he couldn’t help but think the walk with her at his side was all too brief.

Closing the door behind them, he pointed to one of two antique finish leather chesterfields.

“Take a seat,” he said. “I’ll get you a drink, if you like.”

*          *          *

Kate swallowed hard and turned around so her face wouldn’t betray her. If she was going to tell the truth, she was a little thirsty after the snacks in which she’d just indulged. That must be what had made her mouth suddenly so dry. But she knew a drink with this man would not be a good idea.

She was in his office. Alone with him. And she didn’t want to lead him on.

“No thank you,” she said. “I won’t stay long.”

He’d been right
about one thing. It was certainly quieter in here. When he’d closed the door, it was as if the rest of the party disappeared. It was such a relief.

Glancing around the room, she noticed how different it was from the rest of the apartment, the décor in here being as far from cool and
contemporary as you could get.

The office had the same American oak flooring as the living area but it was covered in a rich, deep green rug, which absorbed the noise and added warmth.

To her left, a large mahogany desk sat in front of a wall lined with book shelves. Interestingly, his desk didn’t look out onto the glass doors and the view to the harbour. Instead, it faced a burgundy wall covered in artworks.

And one painting took pride of place.

She had to see it. Had to get a closer look. Walking right up to the artwork, she was fixated on the texture of the paint and the tones of colour.

Only last year, she’d made sure to go to Bern when she was in Europe, especially so she could go to the Paul Klee Museum.
Though hardly an art expert, she loved the dream-like quality of his paintings, the way he played with shape and colour, his gentle humour.

But there was no way Daniel could know any of that.

Taking a few steps backwards, she took in the whole painting, the hues, the shapes. It was so free, so full of life. Everything that she wanted to be, except she could never quite let go enough, could never quite let rip completely.

Suddenly, she felt something behind her.

Someone.

She turned to face him.
Daniel didn’t budge. His shoulders broad, his chest strong, he was like an anchor. Even through his suit she could feel how hard his body was. This was a powerful man. In more ways than one.

Her eyes were fixed on his face as she stood close to him and
for the first time truly looked at him. At first glance, anyone could tell he was good looking with his short black hair, dark eyes and olive skin but that was only the beginning. There was a roguishness in the depths of his eyes, in the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Charming. He was that. Way too smooth. The sort of man you had to watch out for.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to…”

He
brushed some droplets off his jacket. “It’s okay. It’s only brandy.”

Looking down, she saw he must have got himself a drink while she wasn’t looking, and she’d spilt it when she bumped into him. Also when she wasn’t looking.

They were standing in front of his desk so she reached across for some tissues and took the glass from his hand, wiping it dry before placing it on the desk. Then she grabbed some more tissues and dabbed at his hand. It was the least she could do.

Kate felt his gaze upon her, felt him watching her every movement. His hands were large, his fingers long and elegant, and she wondered how she would feel if those masculine ha
nds were on her waist, her hips, her body.

She handed
back the brandy glass, their fingers overlapping. The warmth of his touch made her feel suddenly anxious. She pulled her hands away.

“There’s not much left,” she said.

“That’s okay. I wasn’t very thirsty.”

Daniel knocked back the remaining brandy and turned to slide the glass onto the desk, his jacket brushing against the bare skin of her arm as he did so. A sensual shiver shot up her spine.

This shouldn’t be happening. A man she’d only just met shouldn’t make her feel this way.

She felt like a nervous teenager. How had that happened? She was thirty years old, after all. She
should get a grip on herself.

“It’s an amazing piece,” she said, looking up at the Klee.

“You didn’t come here for the painting.”

Her gaze remained riveted to the artwork. “Believe me, I wouldn’t turn down the chance at a private viewing like this.”

“There’s more to it than that.”

She knew where this was headed and turned to face him. “And how do you know why I’m here? Can you read my mind?”

“You’re here for the same reason I am.”

“W
hat’s that?”

“There’s something between us. I can feel it.”

Kate shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. We’ve only just met.”

“It makes no difference at all.”

“It makes all the difference in the world. I can’t have those sorts of feelings for someone I just met, someone I don’t know.”

He nudged a little closer to her and lowered his voice so she had to give him her full attention to hear him.

“I’m talking about your feelings,” he said. “They don’t always make sense. Feelings aren’t logical.”

She crossed her arms. “I hope you’re not going to try to tell me about love at first sight.”

Daniel’s lips curled to a sly smile. “It’s not ‘love’ I’m talking about.”

“Good, then we agree on something, at least.”

“Some people might call it lust but I think physical attraction is so much more complex than that. It’s not easy to describe these feelings, this chemistry.”

Kate opened her mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t
come out. She felt something yet this wasn’t the way it was meant to be.

You couldn’t build a successful relationship based on
values as shallow as chemistry. Pheromones and hormones and attraction, these were all things people used as an excuse to jump into bed with someone. That wasn’t the way Kate lived her life. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t interested in a quick romp around.

“You can say it as many times as you like,” she said.
“That doesn’t make it true.”

“Then
why don’t you leave right now? The door’s not locked. You can simply go, and prove to me you don’t feel anything.”

She sure as heck wasn’t leaving just because he told her to. She leaned back against the desk
and settled in for the duration, sliding her hands along on the desk’s smooth mahogany surface.

“What? And leave half way through a good argument? No, we haven’t finished.”

Daniel grinned. “So you’ve never had a relationship based on instant attraction?”

“Absolutely not.”

She was acting more indignant than she should. She often responded that way when she thought she was being backed into a corner. Sometimes she simply couldn’t help herself.

“Y
ou’re an attractive woman, Kate,” he said. “You must have had lots of relationships. What have they been based on?”

“Lots of things.
” Darn it, she had to think quickly. “Mutual respect, companionship, common interests. There’s plenty to base a relationship on other than this thing you can’t even describe.”

He was still grinn
ing as he turned to face her, leaning against the desk with one hip. “And love? I assume you believe in love. Most women do. What do you base that on?”

“The same kinds of things. You can’t base a deep, meaningful relationship on chemistry. It would never work.”

“Wouldn’t it?”

“Love doesn’t happen overnight. It’s something you have to work at. You start with the seed of a relationship and nurture it, help it grow. You work at it together.”

He slid along the desk and leaned closer. She smelled the hint of alcohol on his breath. It cut through the air and went straight to her head.

“That might be true for some people,” he said, “but I think you’re underestimating yourself. Sometimes there’s a deep, physical attraction between two people, a spark. It’s instant and it’s there.”

Damn it, an hour ago she would have told him outright he was wrong but she couldn’t say that now. Not when she suddenly knew exactly what he was talking about.

She didn’t just know it.

She felt it.

“It’s no excuse,” she said feebly.

“No excuse for what?”

“Even if people sometimes have those feelings, it doesn’t mean they should act on them. What kind of way is that to live your life? On a whim?”

He laughed. “Don’t tell me you don’t trust your own instincts.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my instincts. I’m just saying some decisions should be made with the mind, rather than on impulse.”

“Sometimes your feelings and intuition are more reliable than your mind.”

He was wrong. He had to be.

There was no sharper instrument than the human mind, especially not when emotions could be so fallible. They could lead you astray, let you fall for the wrong man. She’d done that before and promised herself it wouldn’t happen again.

She held his gaze.
“Daniel, you’re a very rich, very successful man.” He shrugged in response as though it was nothing to him. “Don’t tell me you got where you are today by using your feelings over your mind. Surely in running a huge business, you must balance up the facts and figures and make your decisions based on that.”