Mr. Loverman. Mary Lyons
rising from the long, comfortable sofa to take the glass from her hand. ‘I didn’t realise that you had such a glamorous apartment,’ he added, gazing up at the high lofty ceilings and the enormous windows draped in yards of billowing white muslin, through which could be seen a panoramic view of the rooftops of Soho. ‘Have you been here for some time?’
‘Unfortunately, no—and I won’t be able to remain here for much longer, either.’
‘Why ever not?’
‘Because the rat for whom I used to work threw me out of my job,’ she told him bitterly. ‘And, since the said rat has also failed to honour his promise of a handsome settlement, I now can’t afford to keep up the mortgage payments. All of which means that this apartment will be up for sale probably as of next week. However,’ she added caustically, ‘since you seem to like it so much, maybe you’d like to buy it for yourself?’
‘Oh, God—I’m sorry.’ He grimaced, brushing a hand roughly through his dark hair. ‘I’ve been so busy that I completely forgot...However, I promise to see that you get a large cheque first thing in the morning.’
She shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘That’s nice, but it doesn’t alter the fact that without a job I’ve got no real hope of being able to stay here. Have you got an answer to that small problem as well?’
‘Yes, as it happens, I think I have,’ he drawled. ‘But, before we get around to discussing the position I have in mind, we need to have a cool, calm and sensible discussion about what has happened in the past. However, that doesn’t seem likely at the moment,’ he added drily, his eyes glinting with amusement. ‘Not if you’re going to remain standing on the other side of the room, bearing a strong resemblance to Joan of Arc at the stake!’
‘At least Joan had got her priorities straight,’ Laura lashed back angrily. ‘She knew a slimy Englishman when she saw one!’
‘Why don’t you come and sit down over here and give me a chance to set the record straight?’ he drawled smoothly, clearly refusing to be provoked into a quarrel. ‘Surely it ought to be possible for the two of us to try to act like adult human beings?’
It all sounded very reasonable, but Laura wasn’t fooled by his mild, smooth tone of voice. Not for one minute! If that ruthless operator Jack Wilder thought that he was going to be able to sweet-talk her into putting up with any more of his nonsense, he definitely had another think coming! And it was no good him flashing that engagingly warm, oh, so charming smile in her direction, either. The man was nothing but a two-timing, heartless swine, and she certainly had no intention of forgetting that fact.
Still...well, he had briefly mentioned that he might have a position in mind for her. It was awful to be so mercenary, of course, but with her finances in such dire straits maybe she ought to at least listen to what he had to say?
‘OK,’ she sighed. ‘I’ll give you the opportunity to set the record straight. But you’ll have to cool your heels for a moment while I remove this wet towel from my head.’
Escaping to the sanctuary of her bedroom, and firmly closing the door behind her, Laura knew that she really didn’t have enough time to change out of her towelling robe. And she certainly had no intention of letting Jack think that she was prepared to make an effort just for his sake. All the same, she’d have to do something, she realised as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, wincing with dismay at the sight of her pale, chalky-white face and bedraggled, wet auburn hair.
However, there was no law that said she couldn’t put on some make-up. And, in fact, now she came to think about it, the American Indians had been absolutely right. Because, when going into battle, a girl definitely needed some war paint, she told herself grimly, swiftly applying colour to her cheeks and trying to control the slim lipstick in her nervous, shaking hand as she brushed a soft pink over her trembling lips.
Well, you certainly look a whole lot better. Maybe you can manage to fool him, if not yourself, Laura silently told her reflection in the dressing-table mirror, only too conscious, as she straightened her gown and tightened the belt, that Jack’s sheer, physical presence was having an alarming effect on her emotions.
Why couldn’t he just go away and leave her alone? It hadn’t been easy, but she’d managed to survive the past three weeks. Mainly buoyed up by her anger and resentment, of course. But at least that had been better than nothing. But now Jack had suddenly materialised—like the wicked demon in a pantomime, trailing green smoke and casting his wicked spell over her once again—and he was obviously quite confident of persuading her that, despite his rotten behaviour, he was really a wonderful human being after all.
Relax! All you have to do is to hear him out—and then show him the door, she mouthed silently at herself in the mirror. Unfortunately, the green eyes gazing back at her were not half as confident as her words. They clearly had severe doubts and dire misgivings about her ability to cope with such an upsetting, emotionally fraught situation.
CHAPTER THREE
DESPITE summoning up all the courage at her command, Laura was still miserably aware of a sick, nervous lump in her stomach as she forced herself to return to the sitting room. Thus, after resolutely bracing herself to face an emotional confrontation, it was maddening to discover the long-legged figure of her ex-employer now lying flat out on her cream leather sofa—fast asleep.
He certainly believed in making himself comfortable, she thought sourly, noting that he’d thrown his jacket and tie onto one chair and his briefcase onto another. She’d spent all day cleaning and polishing up her apartment, and yet, less than half an hour after his arrival, the place was already looking a mess!
Jet lag or no jet lag, there was no way she was going to put up with any of his nonsense, Laura told herself grimly, ruthlessly crushing her first instinctive feelings of concern as she stood at the end of the couch, viewing the lines of exhaustion and fatigue etched on Jack’s tanned features. She didn’t need reminding that a leopard never changes his spots. So it was a complete waste of time feeling sorry for the rotten man.
He might have had a long, tiring flight, but, since he regularly flew back and forth across the Atlantic, there were no prizes for guessing that he’d also been out on the town in New York last night with one of his many glamorous girlfriends. Well, good luck to her—because she’d soon find out that she was merely one in a long, long line of completely bamboozled, foolish women.
‘You’re looking a bit grim.’
Jack’s deep voice cut through her distracted thoughts like a dash of icy cold water. Staring down at his supine figure, she noticed that, despite his lazily yawning and stretching his tall frame, the grey eyes regarding her from beneath their heavy lids were glinting with a sharpness and clarity which did absolutely nothing for her peace of mind.
‘Well, how do you expect me to look? My present life isn’t exactly a bed of roses, you know,’ she retorted bluntly.
‘Yes, I’m sorry that I’ve caused you so much trouble and worry.’ He frowned. ‘I had no idea...’
‘OK, OK, we’ve already been over that aspect of my current problems.’ She waved her hand dismissively in the air, well aware that her present situation was partly her own fault. Laura knew that if she’d had any sense she would have been more prudent, carefully saving part of her large salary for just such a rainy day. However, that wasn’t something she was prepared to admit publicly—and certainly not to her ex-employer, now lying at his ease on the pale leather couch and looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
‘Quite frankly, I’m not interested in listening to any of your usual hearts and flowers nonsense,’ she continued bleakly. ‘So can we please get down to the nitty-gritty of exactly what you’re doing in my apartment?’
Jack’s lips had tightened ominously at her caustic reference to his well-known charm and lifestyle. But it was only a moment or two before he clearly had himself well under control once again.
‘I’ve already told you to relax,