Kitabı oku: «Claiming His Mistress», sayfa 2

CHAPTER THREE

AS SHE rode the train from North Sydney to Town Hall for her all-important appointment in the city, Katie did her best to keep her nerves under control by thinking positively.

The facts and figures she had marshalled—costs and estimated profits—for her business proposition were neatly organised in the slim-line black leather attaché case she carried. References from previous employers attested to her good character and sense of responsibility. Trustworthy and reliable were tags that were repeatedly emphasised.

She was wearing her one good all-purpose black suit, having teamed a cherry red sweater with it since red was supposedly a power colour. Her hair was clean and shiny and as tidy as her curls ever allowed. Her make-up was minimal. She wore new stockings and sensibly heeled black court shoes.

There was nothing to object to about her appearance or preparation, so hopefully she would clinch a deal that would give her a more interesting and satisfying future than her current situation. Max Fairweather had told her this particular company matched investors to budding businesses. With luck, her bud of an idea could flower into a fleet of specialised taxis for transporting children.

Because of her fear of being rushed or late, it was barely nine o’clock when she stepped off the train. Since her appointment wasn’t until nine-thirty, she walked slowly along George Street, then up Market Street to the address Max had given her. It turned out to be a skyscraper with a very impressive facade of black granite and glass.

Big money here, Katie thought, even more determined to fight for the investment she needed. She took a deep breath and entered the huge lobby. The directory on the wall gave her destination as the eighteenth floor, with either elevator one or two providing an express ascent.

There were still ten minutes to go before her appointment. Reasoning that being overly punctual was not a black mark against her, and the company would surely have a reception area with chairs where she could sit and wait, she pressed the button to summon elevator two.

A few seconds later the doors opened…and shock rooted Katie’s feet to the floor.

Standing inside the compartment, directly facing her, was a man whose identity was unmistakable. She hadn’t seen him for almost ten years but she knew him instantly and her heart quivered from the impact he made on it.

Carver Dane.

Carver…who, in her heart of hearts, had been behind the pirate’s mask…a fantasy, stimulated by a host of frustrations and the wild and wanton desire to feel what she had once felt with him. The mask had let her pretend. The mask had made a dream briefly come true. But that was all it had been. A dream!

The man facing her was the real person!

Shock hit him, too. No doubt she was the last woman in the world he expected to see or wanted to meet. His facial muscles visibly tightened. There was a flare of some violent emotion in his eyes before they narrowed on her in a sharply guarded scrutiny that shot her nerves into a hopelessly agitated state.

Only a few nights ago she’d been fantasising about the intimacy they’d once shared. The raw sexuality she’d indulged in—with a masked stranger who’d strongly reminded her of Carver—suddenly flooded her with embarrassment. Here was her first and only love—in the flesh—and she simply wasn’t prepared to face him, especially when that memory was so fresh.

“Are you coming in, Katie, or would you prefer not to ride this elevator with me?” he asked.

“I…I was wondering if you were stepping out.”

“No.” His mouth curled into a sardonic little smile. “I’m on my way up.”

She flushed, painful old memories rushing over her embarrassment, making it more acute. The expensive suit Carver was wearing was evidence enough that his status had risen beyond anything her father had predicted, but what he was doing here Katie had no idea. While she wrestled with her inner confusion the elevator doors started to slide shut.

Carver reached out and pressed a button to reopen them. “Well?” he challenged, a savage glitter in his dark brown eyes.

A surge of pride got her feet moving. “I’m going up, too,” she declared, stepping into the compartment beside him. She was not her father’s little girl anymore. She was an independent woman, all primed to establish her own business, and she was not about to be intimidated by anything Carver could bring up against her.

He released the button holding the doors. As they closed her into sharing this horribly small space with Carver, Katie fiercely hoped the elevator lived up to its promise of being an express one. She couldn’t bear being with him for long, knowing they couldn’t ever be truly together, not how they’d once been.

“What floor do you want?” he asked.

“Eighteen.” It was easier to let him operate the control panel than lean across him and do it herself. “Thank you.”

“You’re looking good, Katie,” he remarked as the compartment started rising.

She flashed him an acknowledging glance. “So are you.”

“You’re back home with your father?”

“No. I’m on my own. How’s your mother?” she retaliated, burning with the memories of how each parent had played a critical part in breaking up the relationship they saw as destructive to the best future for Carver and Katie.

“She has to take it easy now. Not as well as she used to be.”

And probably plays that to the hilt, too, Katie thought bitterly. Lillian Dane would never give up her apron strings. She wondered how Carver’s wife coped with her mother-in-law, and was instantly prompted to add, “And your wife?”

The supposedly polite interest question was not immediately answered. The tension in the silence that followed it was suddenly crawling with all the conflicts left unresolved between them, and the string of circumstances that had kept the two of them apart, preventing any possible resolution.

Katie gritted her teeth as the memories flooded back—the pressures that had forced the break-up, the timing that had been wrong for them, even years later when Carver had come to England looking for her, just when she’d been between jobs and back-packing through Greece and Turkey…the letter he’d left, asking if there was any chance they could get together again, a letter she didn’t know about for six months…her phone-call, wild hope fluttering through her heart until the call was answered by his wife…then the confirmation from Carver himself that he was, indeed, married.

That was the cruellest cut of all!

Five years apart…then six months too late!

Though to be absolutely fair, maybe she’d read too much into his coming to London, too much into the letter, as well. It had only been an inquiry, not a promise. He might simply have wanted to put the memory of her to rest, and her apparent lack of response could well have effected that very outcome. She could hardly blame him for getting on with his life.

He wasn’t hers.

He’d never be hers again.

“My wife died two years ago.”

The flat statement from Carver rang in her ears, then slowly, excruciatingly, bounced around her mind, hitting a mass of raw places she didn’t want to look at. The sense of waste was totally devastating.

She wasn’t aware of the elevator coming to a halt.

She was blind to the doors opening.

It took Carver’s voice to jolt her out of it. “This is the eighteenth floor.”

“Oh! Sorry!” she babbled, and plunged out of the compartment, without even the presence of mind to say goodbye to him.

She found herself in a corridor with a blank wall at one end, glass doors at the other. Her legs automatically carried her towards the doors which had to lead somewhere. It wasn’t until Carver fell into step beside her that she realised he had followed her out of the elevator. She stopped, her head jerking towards him in startled inquiry.

“This is my floor, too,” he informed her, his eyes flashing derisively at her non-comprehension. “Are you seeing someone here?” he went on, moving ahead to open the way for her.

“Robert Freeman.” The name tripped out, though it was none of Carver’s business. “Are you seeing someone?”

He shook his head, holding one of the glass doors open and waving her through to what was obviously a reception area. “I work here, Katie,” he said quietly as she pushed herself into passing him.

Again her feet faltered, right in the doorway next to where he stood, shock and bewilderment causing her to pause and query this extraordinary statement. What did a doctor have to do with an investment company?

“You work…?” was as far as she got.

He bent his head closer to hers, murmuring, “I’m one of the partners… Andrews, Dane and Freeman.”

Not only was she stunned by this information, but she caught a light whiff of a scent that put all her senses on hyper-alert. Recognition of the distinctive male cologne was instant and so mind-blowing, she almost reeled away from it, barely recovering enough to hold her balance and move on into the reception area.

“How…how nice for you,” she somehow managed to mutter, though she was totally unable to meet his eyes.

He couldn’t have been the pirate, she frantically reasoned, but her gaze was drawn in terrible fascination to the mouth that now thinned at her lame response, and her heart was catapulting around her chest at the possibility that fantasy had crossed into reality.

It was the physical similarities that had got to her at the masked ball. Plus her own sexual response to them. But that didn’t make his identity certain. Far from it. Neither did the cologne. It was probably a popular brand bought and used by many men. She was not normally close enough to most men to notice a scent. It was silly to get so rattled by a coincidence that could be easily explained.

“Life does move on,” Carver remarked sardonically, responding to her inane “nice” comment.

“Yes, it does,” she quickly agreed, hating herself for being so hopelessly gauche.

He hadn’t become a doctor but he’d certainly moved up in the world, a long way up if this office building was anything to judge by. She didn’t understand why he hadn’t pursued a medical career, but he certainly had to have become a very successful businessman to be a partner here. His pride had surely been salved by such success. As for her pride…

Given the chance, would she have Carver back now that he was free again?

Could one ever go back?

He shut the glass door.

She screwed up her courage to look directly at him, to judge if there was anything left for them.

It was a futile effort.

“Laura will look after you,” he coolly instructed, gesturing towards the reception desk.

Having dismissed her into another’s hands, he turned aside and headed off down a corridor which ran off the reception area, striding fast as though he couldn’t wait to get away from her…like the pirate king after declaring the dance was over.

Katie stared after him, any thought of taking some positive initiative utterly wiped out by the comparison pounding through her mind.

Had it been Carver in the buccaneer costume? A widower, who walked alone, feeling the same compulsive physical attraction she had felt because the chemistry was still there for them? Always would be?

A convulsive shiver ran down her spine.

Even if it had been Carver, he’d made it plain he wanted nothing more to do with her…at least, not with the Carmen she’d been role-playing. He couldn’t have known who she really was.

But the man who’d accompanied her to this office floor did know the woman he’d just left, making it equally plain he was finished with her.

She watched him enter an office and disappear from view, heard the closing of the door behind him, and knew there was not going to be any comeback. He didn’t want any further involvement with her.

The dance was over.

It had been over for Katie Beaumont and Carver Dane years ago.

CHAPTER FOUR

ONCE inside the privacy of his office, Carver took several deep breaths, trying to clear the insidiously sexy aroma from his nostrils and haul his mind back from the chaos it had evoked.

It was definitely the same musky scent Carmen had worn… Carmen, so like Katie—her hair, her breasts, the whole feel of her, the intensity of her need for him.

Had it actually been Katie under that mask?

He shook his head, recoiling from the possibility and all it might mean, yet he couldn’t banish it. She was back in Sydney. She certainly had access to the high society crowd anytime she wanted to move into it. Her father’s connections and her old school network would open most doors. It could have been her.

The need to know drove him to the telephone on his desk. He snatched up the receiver, pressed the button to connect him to Robert Freeman and fiercely willed the other man to pick up. Instantly. Robert was the obvious conduit to immediate information about Katie Beaumont. She was here to see him. He had to know something.

“So how did the breakfast meeting go?” his partner inquired, not bothering with a greeting.

“As expected,” Carver answered briefly, too caught up in more urgent issues to go into detail. “I just rode up in the elevator with a Miss Beaumont. I understand you have an appointment with her this morning.”

“In five minutes. Some problem with it?”

“Do you know her personally?”

“Never met her. Comes with a recommendation from Max Fairweather. Wants to set up a business and needs cash.”

“Needs cash? From us?” Carver couldn’t stop his voice from rising incredulously. “Do you know who her father is?”

“Beaumont Retirement Villages. Max did mention it.”

“The guy is worth millions.”

“Uh-huh. Could be he disapproves of his daughter’s business plans.”

As well as her choice of men, Carver thought acidly.

“Very wealthy fathers can get too fond of flexing their power,” Robert went on. “We could reap some benefit here if the daughter is as smart as Daddy at capitalising on a customer need.”

“An interesting situation…” Carver mused, recalling Katie’s assertion she was on her own, not back with her father. She’d worked as a nanny in England in years gone by but what she had done with her life in more recent times was an absolute blank to him. It could be that everything she chose to do was an act of rebellion against her father…including sexual encounters where she took what she wanted…like Carmen.

Every muscle in his groin started tightening at the memory of her flagrant desire matching his. “Any chance of your passing her over to me, Robert,” he heard himself saying, not even pausing to consider the possible wisdom of staying clear of any involvement.

He’d once thought of Katie Beaumont as his. The temptation to re-examine the feelings that only she had ever drawn from him was too strong to let go. If she’d been behind the Carmen mask, they could still have something very powerful going between them. They weren’t so young anymore and the circumstances were very, very different.

“I’m clear for the rest of the morning,” he pressed, “and I must admit I’m curious to hear Miss Beaumont’s business plans.”

“Mmm…does she happen to be gorgeous?”

“You’re a married man, Robert,” Carver dryly reminded him, uncaring what his partner thought as long as he turned Katie over to him.

He laughed. “Just don’t be forgetting facts and figures in her undoubtedly delectable presence. Go to it, Carver. I’ll let Laura know to redirect the client to you.”

“I owe you one.”

“I’ll chalk it up.”

Done! He set the receiver down on its cradle, feeling a huge surge of satisfaction. Katie Beamont was his for the next hour or so. The only question was…how to play it to get what he wanted!

Katie was only too grateful that Robert Freeman was occupied on the telephone and not yet free to see her. She was far from being cool, calm and collected after the run-in with Carver Dane. Her focus on business was shot to pieces, and she was in desperate need of time to get her mind channelled towards her purpose in being here.

The shock of the link between Carver and the pirate king had left her shaky, too, forcefully reminding her of how terribly wanton she had been with the masked man. She had believed that secret was safe. And surely it was. It had to be. She was not normally a wild risk-taker. To have that kind of behaviour rebound on her now…here…no, she was getting in a stew over nothing. Even if Carver had been the buccaneer, he couldn’t know she had been Carmen.

It was good to sit down with the option of hopefully getting herself under control again. A few deep breaths helped. If she could just let the past go and concentrate on the future, managing this meeting shouldn’t be too difficult. Only the future counted now, she fiercely told herself, and neither Carver nor the pirate king held any part in that. She was on her own.

Definitely on her own.

She had to go into the meeting with Robert Freeman and prove an investment in her business would be worthwhile. All the necessary papers were in her attaché case. She simply had to pull them out and…

“Miss Beaumont?”

Katie’s heart leapt at the call from the receptionist, a pleasant young woman with a bright, friendly manner, obviously trained to put people at ease. She had auburn hair, cut in a short, chic style, and her navy suit, teamed with a patterned navy and white scarf knotted around her throat, looked very classy. The perfect frontline person for an investment company, Katie thought, and forced an inquiring smile.

Laura—that was the name Carver had given her—responded with an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry. Mr. Freeman is tied up with some urgent business.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind waiting,” Katie quickly inserted, relieved to be given more time to calm her nerves before she had to perform at her best.

“As it happens, that isn’t necessary, Miss Beaumont.” Her mouth moved into a conciliatory smile. “One of the other partners is free to take over your meeting with Mr. Freeman. In fact, you came in with him… Mr. Dane.”

“Mr.…Dane?” Katie could barely get the words out. Her tongue felt as paralysed as the rest of her at the thought of facing Carver across a desk, spilling out where she was in her life and asking him for money.

“He’s very experienced at assessing presentations,” Laura assured her. “Your time won’t be wasted with Mr. Dane, Miss Beaumont.”

“But I don’t mind waiting for Mr. Freeman. It’s no problem for me,” Katie babbled, unable to quell a rising whirl of hysteria.

“The arrangement has already been made.”

Without any discussion with her? Didn’t she have any right to decide whom she dealt with? Not that she actually knew Robert Freeman, so she couldn’t claim an acquaintance with him. And Carver was a partner, so she couldn’t very well protest on the grounds of being handed to someone of lesser authority.

Having announced this official decision, Laura came out from behind the reception desk, clearly intending to gather Katie up and deposit her in the appointed place. Katie froze in her chair, her mind in a ferment of indecision, her body churning with sheer panic as her future and past collided head-on.

A benevolent smile was directed at her, along with the words, “I’ll show you to Mr. Dane’s office.”

What was she to do?

Somehow she levered herself out of the chair and picked up the attaché case, grasping the handle with both hands and holding the square of leather in front of her like some shield against the arrows of fate.

“This way…” An encouraging arm was waved towards the corridor Carver had taken.

The past was gone, Katie frantically reasoned. If she didn’t take this chance, she faced a future of always being an employee without any prospect of really getting ahead in life. Besides, this was a business deal. There shouldn’t be anything personal in it. If Carver turned it into something personal, she could walk out, with good reason to demand a more objective hearing.

“Miss Beaumont?”

Laura was paused in front of her, a slight frown questioning the delayed reaction from Katie.

“Sorry. I’m a bit thrown by the change.”

An understanding smile. “There’s no need to be, I promise you. Mr. Dane follows exactly the same company policies as Mr. Freeman.”

Katie expelled a long breath to ease the tightness in her chest. “Okay. I’m coming.”

Laura nodded approval as Katie pushed her feet into taking the path to Carver’s office. The carpet was dove-grey. It felt like sand dragging at every step she made.

She told herself Carver wouldn’t want this meeting any more than she did. He’d been landed with it because he was available and Robert Freeman was busy. Which surely meant he would keep it strictly business, totally ignoring the intimacy of their former relationship.

Or was the intimacy the buccaneer had shared with Carmen as sharply on his mind as it was on hers?

Katie instantly clamped down on that thought. But her stomach contracted at the memory and to her horror, some wanton rush of excitement attacked her breasts, just as Laura came to a halt, gave a courtesy knock on a door, and opened it.

“Miss Beaumont for you, Mr. Dane,” she announced.

“Thank you, Laura,” came Carver’s voice.

It had the same deep timbre of the pirate king’s! Why hadn’t she noticed that before? Because she’d been in too much of a flap over running into Carver and she hadn’t smelled the cologne until he was on the point of leaving her. But now…her heart started thundering in her ears.

Laura stood back and waved Katie forward.

She had to walk into Carver’s office, face him, and pretend everything they’d ever known together was water under the bridge, including a fantasy that was fast gathering too many shades of reality.

Having constructed a somewhat rueful smile to ease her over the next few moments which were fraught with pitfalls, Katie willed her legs to move without wobbling, thanked Laura for her services, then stepped into what she couldn’t help thinking of as the torture room.

Like going to the dentist.

Only worse.

No one here was going to give her an anaesthetic to kill pain.

She heard the door shut behind her. Goose bumps rose on her skin at the realisation she was once again enclosed in a space shared only with Carver Dane. At least it was bigger than an elevator, she hurriedly told herself, and there was furniture to keep them separated.

“Hello, again.”

The greeting forced her to fasten her gaze directly on the man himself. He’d been on the periphery of her vision, standing to the side of his desk. She’d felt him watching her, probably assessing her reaction to the changed appointment, and a sudden surge of stubborn pride tilted her chin in defiance of any judgement he might have made.

“I wasn’t expecting this, Carver,” she stated bluntly.

“I do appreciate that, Katie,” he returned, his quiet tone aimed to soothe frazzled nerves. His mouth quirked into whimsical appeal. “Will it help if we pretend we’re meeting for the first time?”

Impossible! He’d taken off his suitcoat. Her mind’s eye was already measuring his shoulders, matching them to old and fresh memories, and her body felt as though it was pulsing to the imprint of every hard muscle in his very male physique.

“Why aren’t you a doctor?” she blurted out, totally incapable of putting him in a business frame.

He shrugged and moved to the front of the desk, propping himself against it in a relaxed pose that suggested he was prepared to be patient with her. “That was a long time ago, Katie. I might well ask what you’re doing here, seeking a business investment? Why didn’t you pursue the course you were taking to become a kindergarten teacher?”

Because I couldn’t bear being in the same city as you after the break-up. Not even in the same country! The words screamed through her mind but couldn’t be spoken. As he said, it was a long time ago.

“It’s just that I always thought of you as working towards that goal,” she said to explain her intemperate outburst. “To find you here…”

Carver stared at her, a hard bitterness coiling through him. How much had she thought of him? Certainly not enough to bring her back to Australia to find out if anything had changed for them. All those years he’d worked around the clock, needing to prove to himself—and her father—he could amount to something…had she given him anything more than a fleeting thought?

Even when he’d gone to England, she’d been off trekking through Greece and Turkey, spending her money on more travel away from him, and staying away so long he’d given up on any response to his letter—given up and trapped himself into a marriage that was bound to be sour before it had even begun, all because he’d been thinking of Katie.

Well, she could think what she liked. He wasn’t about to tell her what he’d been through. And certainly not why! The sexual attraction was still strong, but he was never going to let Katie Beaumont into his heart again. He’d been there, done that, and any private intercourse between them now would be based on sex, which he very definitely wanted and would find very sweet…with her.

He enjoyed her obvious confusion of mind before cutting it off. “So…you want my credentials before dealing with me,” he drawled, and enjoyed it even more when a flush rose up her neck and spread into her cheeks, making them almost as red as her sweater…as red as the provocative dress Carmen had worn.

“I’m sure they’re everything they should be,” she rushed out, discomforted by the doubt she’d inadvertantly projected and retracting it as fast as she could. “You wouldn’t be in this position unless they were.”

“But it’s difficult for you to accept,” he taunted, cynically wondering if she’d come to accept her father’s view of him—a guy who was screwing a rich man’s daughter to make an easy track for himself to a better life.

“No. I…”

Words failed her. Her eyes flickered with confusion. Hazel eyes—grey and green with dots of gold, he remembered. Big, beautiful eyes to drown in…when he was much younger. Her face was still probably the most essentially feminine face he’d ever seen, its frame of black curls accentuating her pale creamy skin, the finely winged eyebrows, a delicately formed nose, and the very kissable, lushly curved lips.

Was she remembering how they’d once kissed?

Were the memories as recent as a few nights ago?

Right now she was boxed into a corner and struggling to get out, realising that referring to the past was a faux pas in these circumstances. She was the one in need of money, not him. Quite a delicious irony, given the background of their former relationship.

Carver noted that her mouth remained slightly parted, the full sensuality of her lips accentuated, and the kisses he’d taken from Carmen were vividly evoked, inciting the desire to taste them again.

She scooped in a quick breath and gestured an agitated appeal for his forebearance. “I’m sorry. Of course, I accept your credentials. I hope you’re prepared to accept mine.”

They would undoubtedly make fascinating listening, but Carver was not about to reveal any personal interest in them. “I’m here to be convinced that your proposition is well founded and potentially profitable,” he assured her, smiling his satisfaction in the concession to his obvious standing in the company. “If you’d like to start…”

He waved an invitation to the chair he’d placed handy to his desk for her to pass over papers. Without waiting for her to move, he straightened up and strolled around the large desktop to his own chair, a clear signal that he expected business to begin.

Control was his and he intended to keep it, right down the line.

Even when he kissed her.

Which he fully intended to do before she left this office…if Katie Beaumont reacted to the trigger of Carmen!