Kitabı oku: «A Virgin For The Taking», sayfa 3

CHAPTER FOUR

LAURENCE HAD CLEARLY had other ideas. A few days later both Ruby and Zane sat dumbfounded in Laurence’s former office as his executor explained the terms of his will.

‘I don’t understand,’ Ruby said uncertainly. But it wasn’t that she hadn’t heard the lawyer the first time; it was just that it made no sense.

Derek Finlayson breathed an apologetic sigh. ‘I realise it’s a lot to take in right now, but basically what it comes down to is that you and Zane have been bequeathed equal shares in ninety per cent of the Bastiani Pearl Corporation. As of now you each control forty-five per cent of the business.’

‘But…’ She looked around for help, but Zane wasn’t giving any. He sat, rigid and fixed, his face a tight mask. ‘But I don’t want it.’

Zane swung his head around, the disbelief in his features reading like an accusation.

She shook her head. Nothing made sense. Just last weekend she’d moved her things out of the house and into a cabin at the Cable Beach Resort. It was five-star luxury all the way, but that wasn’t the reason she’d chosen it. It was because it was about as far away as she could possibly get from Zane. And she’d figured it would only be for the short term. Already she had some interviews lined up with jewellery manufacturers in Sydney. In the past few years, she’d made herself a solid reputation with the Bastiani Corporation. The successful launch of the Passion Collection would seal it. If all went well, she’d be on her way out of Broome in just a matter of months.

But if she stayed…

She couldn’t let herself think about what that would be like. Right now she knew she’d be gone from Zane and his poisoned atmosphere in less than three months. She couldn’t bear to think about what it would be like to have to survive any longer than that.

‘I don’t want it,’ she insisted, her throat squeezed tight. ‘I don’t understand why Laurence would have done this at all. In fact, I’ve already started making arrangements to leave Broome for good. I have job prospects. I won’t even be here—’

The solicitor removed his glasses and rubbed the crinkled bridge of his nose and looked like he was about to say something, before he stopped suddenly, as if thinking better of it. Instead, he gave a measured sigh and replaced the glasses, peering intently through them down the long sweep of his nose at her. ‘Clearly, under the terms of the will,’ he started, his words delivered slowly for more effect, ‘Laurence expected you to remain here in Broome to co-manage the corporation with Zane. Maybe you might want to take a moment to reconsider your position? The remaining ten per cent of the business will be apportioned among the employees and house staff based on length of service to the company. They will need the business run profitably for their benefit, as well.’

‘Let her go,’ Zane interrupted. ‘She doesn’t want to stay! I’ll buy her out.’

Derek Finlayson blinked and directed his grey steely gaze towards Zane. ‘I understand your distress, Mr Bastiani, but it’s your father’s wishes that I’m concerned with right now. Laurence clearly wished for both you and Miss Clemenger to manage the business for the benefit of all the stakeholders. But, after all, it’s been Miss Clemenger who’s been working alongside Laurence for several years now. Right now she would be more familiar with the actual business. It’s crucial she stays, you must see that.’

‘I haven’t exactly been sitting on my hands, myself. I have businesses of my own to take care of in London.’

‘Your father provided for that,’ said the lawyer, riffling through his notes, letting the acid in Zane’s comment slide by. ‘Ah, yes, here it is. You’ll have whatever time you need to return to London and do a handover. I can run you through the details later.

‘Now, Miss Clemenger,’ he continued, ‘Laurence clearly knew how you felt about looking after the business and the employees. And he trusted you to champion those rights and to carry on his vision—to keep the Bastiani Corporation at the forefront of the industry in both pearl design and innovation. He trusted you to look after the company’s profitability for not only your benefit, but for theirs, as well. Is there anything else I can say that will help convince you?’

‘But if she doesn’t want to stay—’

‘No!’ Ruby wheeled her head around, blue eyes clashing with seething brown. ‘Mr Finlayson is right. Laurence wanted this. He wanted me to stay. I’m not about to walk away from my responsibility to the business or to the employees. And there’s just no way I’m going to let Laurence down!’

Derek Finlayson’s lips pulled into an unfamiliar smile as he pounded the table with his fist. ‘That’s the ticket! Laurence would be proud of you, my dear. As for you, Zane, how long do you think you’ll need to hand over your businesses? That is…’ He regarded him through shrewd eyes, his eyebrows arched ‘…if you do intend to return to Broome to co-manage the business?’

‘Oh, I’ll be back,’ he said, looking at Ruby, his hostile eyes incinerating the air between them. ‘Make no mistake about that.’

‘How did you manage that?’

The lawyer had gone, the room was empty of everyone except her and Zane, yet the atmosphere still felt too crowded, too thick with tension, too thunderous with his snapped words.

Her mind a whirl, Ruby barely registered his question over her own panicked second thoughts. She was trapped. She’d been so close to walking away, just twelve short weeks away from being free, and now she was locked into the Bastiani Corporation, effectively shackled to a man she despised. Shackled by pearls. Had Laurence had any concept of what he’d done to her?

“Look after Zane,” his father had begged. She wanted to laugh. From what she’d seen, Zane needed nobody to look after him. But she’d look after the company, she had no problem with that. But as for Zane, Zane could look after himself.

‘What an extraordinary coup.’

‘What do you mean?’ She responded absently as his words finally filtered through, more intrigued right now that he saw things so differently to her. Why on earth would he think this was what she wanted? The concept that she was now suddenly worth a very large fortune, in addition to what her own family connections provided her with, was no compensation for her growing fears.

Laurence had done her no favours.

This was no beneficial bequest.

This was a sentence.

‘It’s not like you’re family. You’re merely an employee. So how did you manage to convince my father to leave you forty-five per cent of the company?’

She dragged her eyes away from the bookshelves she’d been staring through and looked up at him, trying to blink away her confusion.

‘I did nothing to “convince” him. I had no idea your father decided to frame his will that way. Why would I?’

‘No idea?’ He snorted his disbelief. ‘You lived with him and you make out you didn’t know? Surely you can understand that’s just a little difficult to believe.’

She shook her head. ‘Of course I didn’t know! I told you I was resigning. You knew I was leaving. Why would I have made those plans if I’d known anything about Laurence’s bequest?’

‘Don’t play the innocent. You never had any intention of leaving! Not while you had a chance of benefiting in my father’s will. Saying you’d stay till the launch safely covered you there.’

She sighed, raising both her hands to the ceiling. What was the point of trying to convince him? What did it matter what he thought? ‘It doesn’t matter what you believe,’ she acceded. ‘The fact is, Laurence has given me no choice. I have no option but to stay.’

He laughed, harsh and bitter, seizing on her admission. ‘Funny how quickly a few hundred million dollars can make you change your tune. Of course,’ he mocked, disbelief dripping from his words, ‘we know it’s not really the money.’

‘I don’t care about the money! Not for me. But if I leave, what happens to the employees? You’ll be gone for how long? Who would manage the company? How is that going to carry on Laurence’s vision? I can’t do that to people I worked with, that Laurence wanted to be looked after. I can’t do that to people like Kyoto, after all his years of service.’

‘You’ll stay for the sake of the employees? How noble of you.’ He leaned up close. ‘Pardon me if I don’t believe there isn’t just a smattering of self-interest involved.’

‘No pardon necessary,’ she hissed back. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to believe anything, let alone the truth. You’ve shown a marked absence of that ability ever since you arrived back in Broome.’

‘And you’ve shown a remarkable inability to admit to the truth! Why do you pretend to be something you’re not? Why do you pretend not to understand what is so obvious to everyone else?’

She put her hands on her hips. Damn the man for his constant slurs and sordid innuendoes. ‘So what is it that’s so obvious to everyone else, Zane? What exactly do you mean? Maybe you should get it right off your chest.’

‘You need it spelt out? Okay! Why the hell would my father leave you such a huge share of the company? Forty-five per cent! You’ve already admitted my father was special to you. So why would he leave you a fortune if you weren’t something very much more than special?’

A rush of blood surged and crashed in her ears, urging her to fight.

‘You’re saying your father settled a fortune on me for living with him—for being his mistress. Is that right?’

‘Got it in one.’

‘Why is it with you that everything has to come down to sex?’

‘Doesn’t it?’

She wanted to disagree, but then, wasn’t this exactly what she wanted him to think? If he hated her for sleeping with his father, then he wouldn’t want to touch her, and if he didn’t touch her, then she’d have a chance of resisting this bizarre magnetism of his, she’d have a chance of not falling victim to his power.

So instead of giving in to the inciting jungle beat of her heart and lashing back a reply in the negative, she embarked on a different course. Arching one eyebrow provocatively, she pasted on a sultry smile and pushed her chest out conspicuously. He liked her breasts, he’d already made that more than clear. And then, as if on cue, his eyes followed the movements of her bustline, his gaze hot and hungry, and her smile widened. She knew she was baiting him, but it was no more than he deserved. He’d already made his mind up about her and it suited her purposes. Why not go with his prejudices? Why not play them for all they were worth?

‘Well, you’ve sure got me there, Zane,’ she said, her voice intentionally husky as she ran one hand slowly down the curve of her hip. ‘You know damn well I was special to him. Obviously our relationship meant a lot more to him than I realised. I never expected him to be quite so generous in return.’

The scarlet hue to his skin deepened as his throat corded and kicked out a pulse.

‘You know,’ she said in mock understanding, placing a flirty finger along her cheek as her tactics bore such luscious fruit. ‘I know what your problem is. I suspect maybe I was even more special to him than his own son. That’s what really gets your back up, isn’t it Zane? He loved me, and not you. That’s what you can’t abide. That’s why you hate me so much, isn’t it?’

He propelled himself a step closer, his movements charged with super-anger, his features contorted with rage, and Ruby’s heart skipped a beat. Why was he so angry when she was merely agreeing with whatever tawdry views of her he already held? His enraged features told her she’d more than made her mark—she’d gone too far!

‘Zane…’ she uttered, taking an instinctive step backwards as he powered closer. ‘I didn’t mean—’

The pulse in his brow hammered visibly, his eyes wild with turmoil, and whatever she’d been going to say was forgotten in the broiling atmosphere.

‘Of course he loved you more than he loved me. Why wouldn’t he want to?’ he said, his voice strangely soft, at odds with his entire posture. He reached out a hand and she could see the tension in his corded muscles, his tight skin. She flinched, but his hand moved to one side, to touch her hair, to softly curl a loose strand around his finger, to curve the back of his hand over her cheek as his eyes travelled over her face, burning a trail down to her shoulders, her bustline. Then lower….

She swallowed. ‘No,’ she whispered, sensing the danger had shifted gears and taken a new direction—a new direction that had her body humming with interest instead of shrinking away in fear. She licked her lips, her breathing suddenly shallow and unreliable as if he’d burned up the oxygen between them. ‘I didn’t mean that. I was wrong—’

He hushed her mouth with a finger from his other hand, stopping her words and her breath in the same instant. His scent wound its way into her, his taste leached into her recently moistened lips and his touch was so tender. So tender when he should be so angry.

She didn’t want him to be tender. She wanted him angry. Angry was consistent. Angry she could deal with. But this sudden tenderness…

Somehow this was infinitely more dangerous.

‘You were right,’ he admitted at last, dropping the hand at her mouth to skim down her throat and over the fullness of her breasts like an electric charge that made her gasp involuntarily as it scorched a trail all the way down. ‘You obviously gave him something I never could. But I have to ask myself one question. For a forty-five per cent share in the company, for something like two hundred million dollars—’

He hesitated, his face just a hair’s breadth away from her, his pause like a vacuum between them while his heated gaze continued to read her eyes, to caress her lips, as brazen as a torch brand on her flesh while the gentle pressure on her hair kept her close. And then his head tilted as his lips curled up into a thin, contemptible smile.

‘Well, it sure begs the question—just how good are you in bed?’

CHAPTER FIVE

LIKE A GUNSLINGER’S trigger finger, her hand itched to let fly. His face was temptingly close and already she knew how satisfying it could be to crack her open palm against that arrogant visage. But too often lately with this man she’d let her emotions rule her actions and she’d lashed out either verbally or physically, only to immediately regret her lack of control. She wouldn’t let herself give in to that base instinct again, no matter what the provocation.

Instead, she jammed her fingers into a tight knot behind her back and forced out a laugh even while her nails dug sharply into the flesh of her palms.

‘I wouldn’t give that a second thought,’ she said, flicking her head away, yanking the curl of her hair from his reach. ‘Because that’s the one thing you’ll never find out.’

Triumph fizzed in her veins as she turned for the door. She’d done it! She’d kept her cool and put him well and truly in his place.

He watched her stride away, her chin thrust high as if she’d just won some major battle, even though her movements still looked wobbly, almost as if she was having a hard time making the transformation from warm and soft to cold and aloof. And she had been only too warm and soft and alive a moment ago. He’d felt her sculpted perfection under the glance of his hand. He’d sensed her feminine power. She was magnificent when she was enraged, and yet with a vulnerability that cracked any hard edges right off.

No wonder his father had fallen so hard. He suppressed a growl. He didn’t want to think about her with his father! To throw herself away on someone like him—what a waste!

But if she’d thought she’d got away with the last word—bad luck.

‘My father always was a sucker for a bit on the side,’ he reminded her, ‘but for all the millions you’ve been gifted, I sincerely hope he got enough bang for his buck.’

Her eyes blazed with fury in a face flushed with rage. ‘How dare you!’ she fired, wheeling her body around to confront him, her stance aggressive, ready to fight. ‘You can say or think what you like about me—I don’t care!—but I will not stand by and hear you denigrate your father’s memory. What kind of son are you that you can say such things when Laurence is barely cold in his grave? Your father was a man of integrity—not that you’d have any concept what that means!’

His eyebrows rose of their own accord. So she still had fight? He had to hand it to her, she didn’t give up easily. But then, given the right financial incentive, she’d soon buckle.

‘Trust me,’ he assured her, as he leaned back lazily against the desk. ‘I know more about my father than you give me credit for.’

She laughed. ‘I’d sooner put my trust in a crocodile!’

‘Come, now, Ruby,’ he soothed, setting his voice to bored reasonableness. ‘You know you don’t have to defend my father any more. So drop the act. You’ve got your reward. Why not take it?’

‘What? You seriously think I consider Laurence’s bizarre bequest as some kind of reward? By forcing me to work alongside you? A prison sentence would be more appealing right now.’

He pushed himself away from the desk towards her. ‘For once, I couldn’t agree more.’

Her eyes narrowed as he moved closer, as if surprised by his ready agreement, her body becoming more erect, more defiant with each step he took.

‘Clearly neither of us wants to have anything to do with the other. So I have the perfect solution.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll buy you out. I’ll pay for your share of the company with cold hard cash. You can be out of Broome on the first available flight. Out of here and able to take advantage of those job opportunities you’ve got lined up elsewhere. Not that you’ll need a job ever again with what you’ll walk away with.’

Oh, yes, the idea definitely held appeal for her, he could tell by the tilt of her head, the hope in her eyes. Was she working out her price? Without a doubt.

‘The lawyer said—’

‘Whatever the lawyer said is irrelevant,’ he argued with a swipe of his hand for emphasis. ‘This is between you and me. We’re the major shareholders now. What we decide goes.’

‘And the launch?’

‘Is almost set to go. You’ll get credit for the designs, of course’—and the blame when the collection fails—‘and you’ll be free to set yourself up doing whatever you want. Except this time, you won’t have to go looking for pearls. This time the whole world will be your oyster.’

She hesitated, and he could see he almost had her, just as he’d always known he would. Because he knew her type only too well.

He pressed home his advantage. ‘The chance of a fresh start,’ he argued softly. ‘With as much money as you’ll ever need.’

Suddenly—unexpectedly—she shook her head. ‘No,’ she insisted. ‘There’s no way I could do that. You’re forgetting Laurence. He wanted me to stay and help manage the company. He didn’t want me to take the money and run. He knew the business would need some kind of continuity.’

Zane threw his hands up in the air, as much with frustration at her sudden turn-around as with the slight to his management skills. He might have been away from the business for a few years, but who the hell was she to doubt his talents? ‘I grew up in this business! I led the most aggressive and successful merchant-banking operation in London. And you think I’m not capable of taking over from my father?’

She surveyed him coolly after his outburst. ‘Your father clearly had doubts.’

He clamped his mouth shut over a hissed breath. Oh, for someone who looked like a goddess, her words came with an acid burn. If she was trying to drive his price up, she was doing a damned fine job of it. Yet no price would be too large to have her gone!

‘I’ll pay you out,’ he reiterated, the words squeezed out between his teeth. ‘I’ll pay a premium of twenty per cent on the shares’ worth. You’ll walk away with a fortune. You won’t get a better deal anywhere.’

Her eyes widened. ‘You’d pay me that much?’

More, he knew, if that’s what it took. ‘Then you’ll take it?’

She shook her head and again his hopes dived.

‘Keep your precious money, Zane. I’m not in the market for a better deal. Because you’ve just confirmed what I’d already suspected. I can’t sell my shares and leave you to take over completely. Do you really think I could abandon the employees’ ten per cent share to your mercy? What chance would they have? You’d probably do your best to steamroller them just as you’re trying to steamroller me.’

‘I’ll take care of them.’

‘I don’t think so. Because if your management skills mirror your people skills, then this company is in major trouble. There’s no way I’d leave you to run this company on your own.’

He swallowed his pride and asked the one question he thought he’d never hear himself ask. ‘So, how much do you want?’

It was a victory of sorts. Even she could see that. No matter that he was no doubt still regarding her as some kind of gold-digger, out to extract whatever she could from his father’s business while she had the chance. He’d all but pounced on her earlier hesitation as confirmation of his prejudices. And she had hesitated, because for a few moments the prospect of leaving had seemed so attractive—the thought of escaping from this incessant sparring, the thought of never seeing Zane again, was like a siren’s song calling out to her in her mind. Especially when the alternative, staying in Broome, was the last thing she wanted to do. She didn’t want to work alongside Zane. That future was fraught with turmoil and danger and constant conflict, but be damned if she’d let him drive her out.

‘You don’t get it,’ she told him. ‘I don’t want your money. You can’t buy me out of this company.’

‘Everyone has a price.’

She looked up at him and smiled. ‘Then maybe you should just face the fact you can’t afford mine!’

‘You won’t stay,’ he warned. ‘You won’t last ten minutes after I return from London, if you’re here that long. And then you’ll beg for me to buy you out. Then you’ll take the money and run!’

She curled one lip up at him. ‘There’s no way I’ll sell out to you. I’d sooner die than leave you in charge!

Damn this weather! Zane pushed back in his leather executive chair and locked his arms together high above his head, stretching shoulders and muscles weary from long days and nights at his desk reorganising his business holdings. Outside his office, small hail crashed horizontally into the windows, leaving icy trails down the glass and rendering his prime city view a blurry mess of grey.

It was supposed to be spring, but for the last few days he’d seen enough sleet to last a lifetime. And for the first time in his life he couldn’t wait to get back to Broome. Because right now Zane needed sunshine and heat. He needed colour and contrast that only Broome could provide, from the fertile green mangroves to the azure blue waters of Roebuck Bay; from the red pindar dust of the dirt roads leading out of town to the pristine white sands of Cable Beach.

And he needed to see one particular woman….

He jerked upright in his chair and slammed his fists down hard against the desk.

Damn Ruby Clemenger!

From the moment he’d arrived back in London, instead of concentrating on how he would defray the management of his European interests, his mind had been gate-crashed with nonstop visions of Ruby, sending his mind reeling and his plans into disarray. No wonder it had taken him longer to organise his affairs than he’d expected; it had been impossible to concentrate on affairs of business when he had in mind affairs of a much more carnal nature. The visions had plagued him by day, the dreams had tormented him at night and the hunger gnawed at his insides like a vicious rodent seeking escape.

Visions of her lying naked on his bed, her hair splayed across his pillow, framing her face, her eyes wild with need. Dreams of being tangled together with her, satisfying that need in the best way he knew how. But it was the hunger that was the worst of all. Hunger for a woman’s honey-gold limbs wrapped around him, holding him to her, her head thrown back in ecstasy while he took them both over the edge…

He must be going mad! Why should his father’s mistress stir such thoughts in his mind? She might be beautiful, she might feel like honeyed perfection in his hands, but she wasn’t for him. She never had been.

His father had seen to that!

He growled as he closed down his notebook computer. It had been a long time since he’d had a woman. Too long. And it was no help at all that the woman he thought most about right now was off-limits, even if she hadn’t been half a world away.

He made a few quick calls before shrugging into his coat and heading for the elevator. His work here was mostly done—his second-in-charge could handle any residual matters, it was time he was handed responsibility, anyway.

Because he needed to get back to Broome. And it had nothing to do with the visions, nothing to do with the dreams or the hunger. In fact, it made good business sense. Because the sooner he got back to Broome, the sooner he could fix up whatever mess she’d made in his absence.

This late at night the slick city streets were quiet fodder for the Porsche’s throaty appetite. He pulled up in front of his terraced house, the caged street trees dancing erratically in the squalls, the reflections from the street lights making crazy patterns on the wet roads, and a welcoming light glowing in his downstairs reception room.

Three weeks to the day! Ruby dragged in a breath, battling to downplay the shivers zipping along her spine as she forced her eyes from the desk calendar. But of course she was nervous! The Passion Collection launch was barely two short months away and there was still so much to do—it had nothing to do with Zane’s imminent return.

Her eyes drifted from the piece of jewellery she was examining one final time and back to the calendar. Who was she trying to kid? Twenty-one days he’d been gone and for each one of those days she’d looked at the calendar and wondered, when would he return?

And was he thinking about her as much as she was thinking about him?

Damn the man! She didn’t want to think about him—didn’t want to have anything to do with him. So why was it that even while he was away she couldn’t get him out of her mind? Why was it that, even when she was asleep, her dreams were filled with visions of Zane—troubling, heated images that left her sheets knotted and her body strangely aching come first light?

It was like slow torture, this incessant wondering. He’d skirted around any mention of his return in the infrequent business phone calls they’d had. He’d avoided any mention in their email communication. And so with every passing day her sense of dread grew. But it had to end soon. He wouldn’t leave her here for too long to manage on her own. He wouldn’t stay in London a day longer than it took.

He’d be back.

Back to claim his inheritance.

Back to make her life hell!

She shuddered, and the heavy piece in her hand slipped through her fingers and on to the desk, breaking her out of her thoughts.

‘Think!’ she demanded of herself, as she picked up the magnificent pendant, the centrepiece of the Passion Collection, checking it to ensure her clumsiness hadn’t harmed the precious piece, and her favourite from the collection.

Slowly she spun the magnificent item in her fingers, its delicate ribbons of yellow gold and pavé-set diamonds interspersed with strategically placed gold South Sea pearls. At first glance it could be taken merely as a beautiful piece, a successful juxtaposition of art, science and the best that Mother Nature could provide. But at a certain angle, in certain lighting, another image emerged. Two lovers intertwined, their skin tones captured in the warm lustre of the pearls, their bodies entwined by golden limbs, their passion for ever captured in the warm glow of one thousand tiny diamonds.

A thrill of achievement coursed through her veins as she cradled the piece in her palm. She’d done it! It was the most wondrous piece she’d ever created, the illusion a triumph.

So why was it that images from her heated dreams invaded her thoughts right now? Why should her body tingle with that now familiar prickle of need?

Why should the pendant remind her of Zane?

For once the burr of the telephone was a welcome intrusion. She listened to her harried PA for a few moments before responding. ‘It’s okay, Claudette. Put her through.’

She heard a dull click and then, ‘I want to speak to Zane, not another secretary!’ The cool Nordic accent was no match for the heat of her delivery.

Ruby took a breath, her interest piqued. ‘I’m sorry, but at the moment Zane isn’t in the office. I’m Ruby Clemenger, can I help?’

‘Oh.’ There was a pause at the other end. ‘You’re Ruby? Zane’s told me all about you,’ she added, her voice changing tone, softer and less aggressive and so much more sexy that it almost purred with satisfaction. ‘Zane tells me you’re quite beautiful.’

Ruby was rendered speechless. Zane had been talking about her to this woman? And he’d said that? Rallying her fractured thoughts, she managed, ‘And you are?’

‘Anneleise Christiansen.’ There was a pause, and then, ‘Surely Zane’s told you about me?’

Not even once, thought Ruby, curiosity warring with suspicion—clearly this woman was no mere business associate! But then they’d never really had time to discuss anything, not when they were always sparring with each other over the business. There’d never been a chance to get beyond Laurence and the Bastiani Corporation. ‘Of course he has, Anneleise,’ she lied, giving the expected response. ‘But I’m sorry, I’m not sure when he’ll be back. Did you want to leave a message?’