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Mr. Loverman
Mary Lyons
Jack Wilder had three golden rules:1) Never mix business with pleasure. Unfortunately he had broken that one the moment he met Laura Parker. The fact that she worked for him was easily fixed.2) Love them and leave them… The press didn't call Jack Mr Loverman for nothing. Laura had fallen for his casual seduction, only to find herself sacked for sleeping with the boss!3) Never underestimate the competitions. Laura was determined that she wasn't going to be just another notch on Jack's bedpost! She wanted revenge!Jack Wilder would just have to add another rule to his list - that hell had no fury like a woman scorned!A special treat for Valentine's Day from the bestselling author of The Yuletide Bride and Dark and Dangerous.


“If you think I’m taking on the job of your part-time mistress, you’re very much mistaken!” (#u5260aaea-f6bb-54fe-9d99-bb3e7397c871)About the Author (#ubbbacc68-b273-50d4-9a7e-a421b97a9664)Title Page (#ubdae244c-9aa3-5133-a502-cf64ad970c8e)CHAPTER ONE (#uf8e3ab5b-747b-5d11-b2db-6c7c8a4df872)CHAPTER TWO (#uc4477a7b-9cbd-54cf-a2df-4a20a158097d)CHAPTER THREE (#u3ceb7db8-94ae-5bfd-84df-09698558b727)CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“If you think I’m taking on the job of your part-time mistress, you’re very much mistaken!”
“I did not say that,” Jack Wilder retorted curtly.
“That’s exactly what it sounded like. Or are we talking about a serious commitment?”
“Are you seriously suggesting...? You aren’t talking about marriage, surely?”
“Not necessarily,” Laura snapped. “I’m talking about something you clearly don’t understand—plain, boring, old-fashioned commitment. But what you’ve really been saying all along is, ‘If Laura is a good little girl, she may get to see the great Jack Wilder—when he isn’t too busy seducing any other passing female who might catch his eye.’ ”
“For an intelligent woman you certainly can be incredibly stupid at times.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but your idea of a relationship certainly isn’t mine!” As far as she could see, Mr Loverman was interested only in one very short, three-letter word: sex!
MARY LYONS was born in Toronto, Canada, moving to live permanently in England when she was six, although she still proudly maintains her Canadian citizenship. Having married and raised four children, she finds that her life nowadays is relatively peaceful—unlike her earlier years when she worked as a radio announcer, reviewed books and, for a time, lived in a turbulent area of the Middle East. She still enjoys a bit of excitement, combining romance with action, humor and suspense in her books whenever possible.
Mr Loverman is Mary Lyons’s twenty-fifth title for Harlequin!


Mr. Loverman
Mary Lyons




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHAPTER ONE
‘YOU want me to do...what?’ Laura frowned at the man sitting at the other side of the desk.
Besides being tall, dark and outrageously attractive, Jack Wilder was also well-known for possessing a good sense of humour. And Laura liked to think that she, too, was quite capable of enjoying a joke. But not first thing on a Monday morning, when she was still suffering from jet lag after the long flight from Tahiti.
‘Would you...um ...would you mind repeating that again?’ Laura muttered, wishing that she didn’t feel quite so tired and woolly-headed. Especially when her employer was looking his usual elegant and immaculate self.
In fact, other than the deep tan covering his arrogant, hawk-like features, there was nothing to suggest that Jack himself had only flown back to London a few days ago, leaving her to sort out any remaining difficulties on the set. And there had certainly been plenty of those, she reminded herself grimly. The latest remake of Mutiny on the Bounty had clearly been jinxed from the start, while dealing with that temperamental film star Craig Jordan had proved to be a complete nightmare.
‘I was just saying that I’m really very sorry to have to take this decision. Unfortunately, under the circumstances, I don’t see that I have any alternative. I’m afraid that I’m going to have to ask you to go.’
Laura stared glassy-eyed at her employer, trying to cudgel her weary brain into some sort of working order, because there was obviously something very wrong with this conversation.
‘I didn’t get back home from the airport until late last night. So I’m not feeling too bright this morning,’ she told him with a tired smile, brushing a stray lock of bright auburn hair from her face. ‘Exactly where do you want me to go? And what “circumstances” are you talking about?’
Jack Wilder remained silent, his grey eyes unfathomable beneath their heavy lids as he studied the girl in front of him, before swivelling around in his chair to gaze out of the large plate-glass window of his office.
‘As you know, ever since I founded this theatrical agency, I’ve always insisted on my staff obeying one basic, golden rule,’ he said at last, continuing to stare out at the heavy traffic forcing its way down Shaftesbury Avenue. ‘And that is never, under any circumstances, to mix business with pleasure.’
‘So...?’
‘Your brains really are scrambled this morning, aren’t they?’ he drawled, a tight note of exasperation in his voice. ‘I was referring to our own personal relationship, of course. The fact that we spent last weekend together.’
‘Oh—er—right...’ she muttered, staring down at the hands in her lap and hoping that the thick, heavy hair falling down over her face would successfully hide her flushed cheeks. Surely this was neither the time nor the place to discuss such a very private subject?
‘Craig buttonholed me at the airport, just before I left,’ Jack continued with a shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘Unfortunately, he left me in no doubt of his feelings about you, and...’
‘Oh, is that it?’ Laura gave a nervous gurgle of laughter. ‘For heaven’s sake—you can’t seriously believe that I somehow got involved with Craig Jordan? OK, I know he was pestering the life out of me,’ she added quickly as her employer remained ominously silent, ‘but surely you know that I can’t stand the awful man? As far as I’m concerned, he’s hell on wheels! Besides, is it likely that I’d even look at him, when you and I...er...?’
‘That’s precisely the point I’ve been trying to make,’ he said, his lips tightening as he stared out of the window. ‘Believe me—Craig was very vocal on the subject of theatrical agents who sleep with their staff.’
‘I bet he was!’ she muttered grimly. ‘But only because he couldn’t get anywhere with me. He was obviously out to make trouble. Believe me, that scumbag really hates to see anyone else having a good time.’
‘You may well be right about Craig—but it’s no good trying to avoid the issue. Despite the enchantment of those hot, tropical nights in the South Pacific, I should have known better than to give in to temptation—however enticing it may have seemed at the time. Unfortunately, I can now see that our brief...er...affair was a very unfortunate mistake.’
‘A mistake...?’
‘I’m not blaming you—it’s entirely my own stupid fault,’ he admitted with a heavy sigh, brushing long, tanned fingers through his dark hair. ‘Nevertheless, rules are rules. And they apply as much to me as to my colleagues,’ he added quickly over her strangled gasp of protest. ‘So, while I obviously don’t want to lose you, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to terminate your employment with this firm.’
‘You must be kidding!’ she gasped, scarcely able to believe her ears.
‘No—I’m perfectly serious.’
Suddenly feeling as though she’d been hit very hard on the back of the head by a heavy sandbag, Laura stared blankly at his hawk-like profile.
‘OK, Jack—let’s get this right out in the open,’ she said at last, striving to sound as calm and objective as possible. ‘Are you seriously trying to tell me that just because we spent last weekend alone together—and Craig somehow found out about it—you’re now prepared to allow that...that slimeball to dictate who can and cannot be employed by this agency?’
‘No, of course I’m not.’ He drummed his long fingers impatiently on the arm of his chair. ‘It’s far more complicated than that. Craig merely drew my attention to a problem of which I was already well aware.’
‘Oops—my mistake! We mustn’t forget the hefty amount of commission on all those film deals—right?’ she ground out sarcastically.
‘That remark is completely uncalled for—and totally out of order!’ he ground out, his steely grey eyes glinting with anger as he spun around to face her. ‘I would never put money before the welfare of those who work for me. So any commission which Craig may bring into this firm has absolutely nothing to do with the problem. Do I make myself clear?’
‘OK, OK,’ she muttered, her defiance wilting beneath the hard, taut expression on his tanned features. ‘But...but I don’t understand why there’s a “problem”. After all, we’re both single; we haven’t hurt anyone, or done anything morally wrong. Besides, it was your idea to whisk us both off to that small island for the weekend,’ she added defiantly. ‘You definitely made the first move, Jack—and don’t you forget it!’
‘Yes, I know I did,’ he retorted tersely. ‘But that’s not the point.’
‘Well, what is the point? Why this sudden decision to give me the sack?’
‘I didn’t decide anything suddenly,’ he told her firmly, before once more turning to gaze out of the window. ‘I have, in fact, given the matter a great deal of thought. Unfortunately, there’s no way I can see us being able to work together in future. What happened in Tahiti was, I’ll admit, a very unfortunate error on my part. And it’s one for which I must take full blame.’
‘Blame for what?’ she demanded bleakly. ‘After all, I’m twenty-six years of age and no longer a nervous virgin. So why don’t you tell me, in words of one syllable, exactly what you mean?’ she added grimly as he remained silent. ‘Are you trying to say that you were lying through your teeth? That everything you said and did that weekend was totally false? That, in fact, you merely felt like going to bed with someone and...and I just happened to be available?’
‘No! I’m not saying anything of the sort,’ he retorted curtly, before falling silent once more. ‘Quite frankly, I’m not at all sure that I can explain what happened,’ he said at last, with a heavy sigh. ‘On our trip to the South Pacific, I had absolutely no intention of doing anything which would jeopardise our normal, good working relationship.
‘On the other hand...’ he hesitated for a moment ‘...I have to confess that during the past year I’ve been finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on work when you’re around. The truth is, Laura, I find you far too...er...far too distracting. Which is precisely why I’m going to have to let you go. I am very sorry about the situation, of course, but—’
‘You’re sorry? How the hell do you think I feel?’ she cried, still not really able to believe that this was happening to her. ‘Incidentally, if you’re going to fire me, kindly have the courtesy to do it to my face!’ she demanded furiously, incensed at the way he was continuing to avoid looking at her.
‘This isn’t a decision which I’ve taken lightly,’ he said as he swung his chair back from the window, his hooded lids hiding all expression as he gazed at the flushed cheeks and glitteringly angry emerald-green eyes of the beautiful girl in front of him.
‘I’ve been in this business for some time. So I know what I’m talking about when I say that mixing business and pleasure is a certain recipe for disaster,’ he told her quietly. ‘When two people who happen to work closely together also begin sleeping with one another it always ends in tears and bitter recriminations. Believe me, I’m far too fond of you to let that happen.’
‘Oh, really...?’ she drawled caustically. ‘So how come you waited until I came into the office this morning before giving me the sack? If that’s your idea of fondness I hate to think how you’d behave if you really cared for someone!’
‘I wouldn’t be telling you this now, in the office, if I’d been able to contact you at home,’ he retorted grimly. ‘But for some reason you’d taken the phone off the hook.’
‘I just wanted a good night’s sleep,’ she snapped. ‘After coping with that foul man Craig Jordan I reckoned I deserved it!’
‘You did a very good job under extremely difficult circumstances,’ he agreed smoothly. ‘In fact, I’ll freely admit that it’s going to be difficult to find someone to take your place.’
‘You can cut out that patronising tone, you bastard!’ she ground out through gritted teeth. ‘Because it obviously doesn’t seem to matter how successful I’ve been—you’re still going to sling me out onto the rubbish heap. Right?’
‘Wrong!’ he snapped, only a muscle beating in his clenched jaw, and the high spots of colour on his cheekbones, betraying evidence of the fact that her caustic barbs were beginning to hit home. ‘You know very well that there are any number of agencies who’d give their eye-teeth to have you working for them.’
‘But I’ve built up a career in this firm,’ she pointed out forcibly. ‘There are several clients I spotted when they were fresh out of drama school and who are now doing really well. Not to mention a lot more depending on me because they know I’ll move heaven and earth to get them good parts in films or the theatre,’ she added, struggling to control her temper as she desperately tried to get him to see reason.
A tense, brooding silence seemed to fill the room for a few moments, before he gave a slow shake of his dark head. ‘While I agree that you’ve always been a valued, highly successful member of this agency, I’m not prepared to reconsider my decision. However, I will, of course, give you a handsome settlement in lieu of the proper notice, as well as a glowing reference.’
‘Oh, gee—thanks!’ Laura glowered at the handsome man sitting behind his desk. ‘So, what happens when, halfway through an interview for a new job, someone asks, “And just why did you leave your last firm, Miss Parker?” What am I supposed to say? That my boss fancied a quick fling—and is now covered with remorse for having had his evil way with me?’ She gave a shrill, harsh peal of laughter, roughly pushing back her chair as she leaped to her feet. ‘For God’s sake, Jack, they’d never believe it. Not in a month of Sundays!’
‘Calm down, Laura! I really don’t think that—’
‘No—you’re right. That’s one thing you didn’t think about,’ she retorted, her voice rising in fury as she paced angrily about the room. ‘Any prospective employer is bound to assume that I was either cooking the books or that I was caught with my hand in the till. And why?’ she demanded fiercely, spinning around to face him. ‘Because no one could possibly imagine that handsome Jack Wilder—the “Mr Loverman” of the London theatrical world, who’s had more girls than I’ve had hot dinners—would sack a colleague simply because they spent a weekend together.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ he snapped.
‘I’m not the one who’s going to look ridiculous when the news gets out,’ she stormed, her temper by now well out of control as she hit back at the man who was treating her so cruelly. ‘I’ll bet any money you like that your colleagues and rivals will be falling about and screaming with laughter when they hear that you’ve given up the lecherous, womanising habits of a lifetime. Can’t you just hear them? “Hey, guys, did I tell you the latest gossip about randy Jack Wilder? He’s suddenly had a rush of blood to the head, and joined the Salvation Army!”’
‘I’ve had quite enough of this nonsense,’ he growled angrily. ‘I think you’d better leave both my office and this firm as quickly as possible.’
‘Don’t worry—I’ve no intention of staying one moment longer than I have to!’ Laura yelled, her shoulder-length, bright auburn hair whirling about her head as she spun on her heels and marched swiftly away across the thick carpet.
‘In any case,’ she added, jerking open the door to the outer office, now jam-packed with agency staff who’d been listening goggle-eyed to the row, ‘I wouldn’t be seen dead working for such a...a slimy ratbag!’
‘If you don’t get out of here right now I’ll throw you out on your ear!’ he bellowed, jumping to his feet, his handsome features flushed with rage and fury.
‘Oh, yeah?’ she jeered, almost drunk with exhilaration as she heard some of her colleagues giving way to nervous giggles and muffled, hysterical laughter. ‘Do me a favour! You couldn’t even go two rounds with a revolving door!’
‘Get out!’
‘Relax—I’m going. But if you think you’ve seen or heard the last of me you’re very much mistaken,’ she hissed, quickly whisking herself around the other side of the door as Jack left his desk and began moving menacingly towards her. ‘Because I’m going to get my own back on you...you philandering Casanova—if it’s the last thing I ever do!’
Perched on a kitchen stool, Laura watched glumly as her older sister spread whipped cream over the thin rectangular slabs of dark brown sponge cake.
‘OK, Amy, you may as well say what you’re thinking.’ She sighed heavily. ‘I went completely over the top, didn’t I?’
‘Well...’ the other girl murmured, concentrating on her work as she deftly rolled up the chocolate roulades and dusted them with icing sugar before placing the delicate confections inside a large fridge. ‘I must say it does sound like a bad case of foot-in-mouth disease.’
‘You’re right,’ Laura agreed with another heavy sigh.
‘We both know that you’ve been mad about Jack for ages,’ Amy pointed out calmly as she began whisking some egg whites in a copper bowl. ‘But I can’t help thinking it’s a pity you didn’t get the ground rules sorted out before you gave in to temptation.’
‘I only wish that I had,’ Laura admitted gloomily. ‘But...but can’t you see that it’s all so unfair? Why should I have to be the sacrificial lamb? Why should I be the one to lose my job—while he gets off, scot-free? Everyone knows that it takes two to tango, for heaven’s sake!’
Amy shrugged. ‘Well, you could hardly expect him to leave his own firm.’
‘There was no need for anyone to leave!’ her younger sister retorted grimly. ‘In fact, if Jack wasn’t so totally paranoiac about anyone mixing business with pleasure, there wouldn’t be a problem. As far as I can see, he was only intent on preserving his own, rotten reputation. Is it any wonder that I went completely bananas?’
‘It certainly sounds as if you burned your boats in fine style,’ Amy agreed wryly. ‘After all, I don’t imagine that any guy is going to be exactly thrilled to be called “a slimy ratbag”. And certainly not in front of everyone in the office!’
‘OK, OK... there’s no need to rub it in,’ Laura groaned, burying her face in her hands for a moment, desperately wishing that she could go to sleep and wake up to find that it had all been a hideous nightmare.
After storming out of the agency this morning, she’d walked through the streets of London in a daze, not realising where she was going or what she was doing, until she’d found herself wandering down Piccadilly towards Green Park. Sinking down onto a wooden bench and closing her eyes as she’d raised her face towards the clear blue sky, Laura had still felt as if she was in the midst of a bad dream.
It had only been as her tired mind and body had begun to relax beneath the warmth of the midday sun that she’d forced herself to accept the grim truth: not only had her successful career been suddenly reduced to a pile of rubble—but her name was now mud with the man she’d loved so hopelessly, for so long.
In fact, that was an understatement of the situation, she now told herself gloomily, staring blindly down at the stainless-steel worktop in the large kitchen from where her sister ran a successful catering company. Jack Wilder might well be as attractive as all-get-out, but he was also a hard, tough and ruthless individual, who was almost certainly going to prove to be a very bad enemy.
Not that she’d had any idea of the powerful force and aggression lying beneath his charming, handsome exterior when she’d first joined his agency over three years ago. Completely over the moon at having gained a coveted post at Wilder, Hunt and Martin—commonly known as WHAM and one of the most successful theatrical agencies in London—Laura had beamed happily at the man sitting behind his desk in the large office overlooking Shaftesbury Avenue.
‘There is just one more point I’d like to make, Miss Parker,’ he’d said as she’d risen to go and meet her new colleagues. ‘I do not, under any circumstances, allow anyone working here to mix business with pleasure. That applies first and foremost to our clients, of course—but also, if you will forgive the immodesty, to myself. Quite frankly,’ he’d added, his lips tightening momentarily in irritation and annoyance, ‘I’m sick and tired of having to get rid of foolish, silly girls who—God knows why—manage to persuade themselves that they’ve fallen in love with me. Do I make myself clear?’
‘As a bell!’ she’d laughed, before holding up her left hand to display a small diamond ring on her third finger. ‘I’m engaged to be married. So, if you will also forgive the immodesty, Mr Wilder, I think you’ll find you’re quite safe with me!’
‘I’m glad to hear it...er...Laura,’ he’d grinned, then had told her to call him by his Christian name before asking his personal assistant, Susie Carter, to show her to her new office.
‘He wasn’t joking,’ Susie had warned her a few days later as they’d grabbed a quick lunch in a nearby wine bar. ‘Jack Wilder may have quite a reputation in the business—I don’t imagine that he’s known as Mr Loverman for nothing!—but, as far as the agency is concerned, he doesn’t stand any nonsense. And I can’t say that I blame him,’ she’d added with a shrug. ‘It must be a real drag having someone spending all their time in a daydream—or, like your predecessor, flooding the office with tears every time she reads press cuttings about Jack and his glamorous girlfriends.’
‘Well, I can see he’s a very handsome and charming man, but I’m simply not interested,’ Laura had told her with a bright, confident smile. Having fallen in love with an engineering student, Bryan Turner, during her last year at university, she’d known that she was completely immune to her new employer—however attractive he might be.
Unfortunately, Bryan had proved to be far less sure of his feelings. After joining a large firm of civil engineers, he’d been sent abroad a year later to deal with the construction of a large hotel in the centre of Bangkok. There, he’d quickly succumbed to the pleasures and distractions of an Oriental way of life—only bothering to inform his fiancée that he had met and married a beautiful Thai girl some months after the ceremony had taken place.
Quite convinced that her heart was irretrievably broken, Laura had buried herself in work, grimly concentrating on her career. Looking after and caring for her clients had helped to assuage some of her deep unhappiness—until, some six months later, she’d been both amazed and somewhat ashamed to discover that her heart hadn’t been broken after all.
As a result of her having become totally absorbed and single-minded about her job, Laura’s hard work and increasing success had not gone unnoticed. Rapidly promoted by Jack to a position of responsibility within the firm, she’d found herself increasingly in close contact with her employer. And, although for a long time she’d struggled against acknowledging the fact, Laura had gradually realised that she was in serious trouble.
Almost without realising it, she’d fallen deeply in love with Jack Wilder—a dangerously contagious disease, which also seemed to have infected half the women of his acquaintance. However, since she’d known that the likelihood of Jack returning her love was less than zero, she’d been determined not to succumb to what could only be a hopeless and disastrous state of affairs.
Ever since both her parents had died, when she was only sixteen, Laura had become used to talking over problems with her older sister. However, confiding the truth about her feelings for Jack had merely resulted in Amy’s practical, level-headed advice that she should leave the firm as soon as possible and get a job in another agency. ‘After all, love, what’s the point in giving yourself a whole load of grief?’ she’d said.
Unfortunately, and despite knowing that her sister was right, Laura hadn’t been able to bring herself to follow such a sensible course of action. However, over the past two years she’d always taken the greatest care to conceal the true depth of her feelings, both from her friends and workmates as well as her employer.
It hadn’t been an ideal situation, of course, but she was certain that she’d managed to convince everyone that she had no romantic interest in her boss. And there’d certainly been no problem when she’d accompanied Jack to other film locations, in such diverse places as Arizona, Spain and the Ukraine. So why had everything suddenly gone completely haywire in Tahiti...?
‘In fact, once he’s calmed down, I’m sure that Jack will see that he’s treated you very badly.’
‘Hmm...?’ She raised her head, looking blankly at Amy for a moment. ‘I’m sorry...I was miles away,’ she confessed with a heavy sigh.
‘I was just saying that it’s not the end of the world. Of course, you shouldn’t have lost your temper, but sooner or later Jack is bound to realise that he is mostly to blame for what happened today.’
‘Fat chance!’ Laura gave a derisory snort of grim laughter. ‘Even if he does eventually forgive me—and I’m quite certain that he never will—I still don’t have a job. And not much prospect of getting another one, either,’ she added glumly. ‘If only I hadn’t bought that smart, glamorous apartment in Soho! Even if Jack does give me a generous pay-off, without regular employment I’ll never be able to keep up the mortgage payments. Maybe...’ she looked hopefully around the large, superbly equipped kitchen ‘...I could come and work for you...?’
‘No way!’ Amy laughed and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, love. You know I’ll do anything I can to help, but you’ve never been interested in cooking, and it’s a bit too late to start now. Besides, there’s a world of difference between messing around in your own kitchen and catering full-time for businessmen’s lunches in the City.’
‘Yes, I know. But...’
‘The idea is a complete non-starter,’ her sister said firmly. ‘I can handle the amount of work I’ve got at the moment, mainly because it fits in so well with the children’s school timetable. But, if I took you on, I’d also have to expand the business in order to pay you a living wage. Which in turn would mean spending less time with the boys. And, quite apart from my own feelings, I also know that Tom wouldn’t be at all happy about the situation.’
‘You’re quite right,’ Laura agreed quickly, ashamed of having been so selfish and only concerned with her own problems. Amy’s husband, Tom, was a very kind and easygoing, if somewhat absent-minded history professor at London University. But even he could be expected to cut up rough if his small sons began to see less of their mother.
‘However, I can probably help out with your mortgage—for a few months, anyway.’
‘Don’t be silly!’ Laura protested. ‘I wouldn’t dream of letting you do anything of the kind. I was just worried about what was going to happen in the future, that’s all.’
‘Well, I think you ought to keep on working in your own profession. You’ve been really happy and successful at looking after your clients. So why turn your back on the theatrical world just because you’ve had a row with Jack Wilder?’
‘Because I’m quite certain that he’ll do his best to see I’m blacklisted,’ Laura told her grimly. ‘I know Jack—he never forgives or forgets an injury. Just look at what happened to Donald Hunt,’ she added as she slipped off the stool and made her way to the door.
‘Donald Hunt?’
Laura shrugged. ‘It’s ancient history now, of course, but he was one of Jack’s original partners in the agency—together with their accountant, David Martin, who died in a car crash some years ago. Nobody knows exactly what went wrong between Donald Hunt and Jack. However, it’s rumoured that there was an almighty bust-up because Donald had a torrid affair with Melissa Grant, who was Jack’s wife at the time.’
‘I never knew that Jack had been married to Melissa Grant!’ Amy exclaimed in amazement. ‘She’s a wonderful actress, of course—and stunningly beautiful. Isn’t she starring in that award-winning play at the National Theatre? We’ve been trying to get hold of some tickets, but it’s completely sold out for the next three months.’
‘Yes, well...dear Melissa—who may be beautiful, but is said to be a first-class bitch, and has just left her fifth husband—was apparently married to Jack for only a very short time before becoming fatally involved with Donald. The story is that Jack not only divorced his wife and dissolved the partnership but also made certain that no other agency would give Donald Hunt a job.’
‘Are you sure about this?’
Laura shrugged. ‘Well, I must admit that I don’t know the full facts. But it seems that fairly soon after Donald and Jack split up Donald inherited a fortune from his father—who’d apparently been a big cheese in the building-construction business. However, the real moral of this story is: if he hadn’t had a family business to fall back on, Donald would have been left high and dry—totally up the creek without a paddle. So I don’t think my future is looking too bright and hopeful—do you?’
‘Oh, come on! I simply can’t believe that Jack would be that vindictive,’ her sister protested. ‘There’s a world of difference between pinching another man’s wife and two people having a row in the office.’
Laura brushed a weary hand through her hair. ‘I hope you’re right. But the theatrical world is a very small one and absolutely riddled with gossip. In fact, while it’s only a few hours since I was sacked, I’m pretty sure that by now the quarrel between Jack and myself will be common knowledge. So I reckon my chances of being able to join another agency are just about zilch!’
‘I think you’re being far too pessimistic. What you need is a good night’s sleep,’ Amy told her firmly. ‘You’ll be feeling much more positive in the morning. In fact, I’m quite certain your fears are groundless, and that it won’t be long before you’re inundated with offers of work.’
I hope to goodness that Amy is right, Laura thought glumly, waves of tiredness and resentment sweeping over her weary body as she slowly made her way back to her own apartment. Unfortunately, after having been so callously dumped by that louse Jack Wilder it now seemed all too likely that he would turn nasty.
If so, she wouldn’t just have lost both the man she loved and a job she’d really enjoyed—it was beginning to look as if she might lose the roof over her head as well.
CHAPTER TWO
WITH a sigh of relief, Laura plunged the mop back into its bucket of soapy water. Leaning against the open doorway of the kitchen, she gazed with considerable pride and satisfaction at the bright, shiny worktops and gleaming ceramic-tiled floor.
She had spent all day spring-cleaning her apartment from top to bottom, and it had been a shock to discover how much she’d seriously underestimated the exhausting, sheer hard work of those women who stayed at home, looking after their homes and families.
‘They definitely deserve a gold medal for valour!’ she muttered, wearily brushing the damp locks of hair from her brow as she turned to wander slowly through the large, airy and now sparkling clean rooms.
She’d always longed to live in a warehouse apartment, and had jumped at the chance of buying a new loft conversion in the centre of Soho. It had been really more than she could afford, of course, but, after spending a day frantically wheeling and dealing on behalf of her various clients, the high ceilings and enormous amount of space had always proved to be an oasis of peace and quiet.
But not for much longer. It was now over three weeks since she’d been so summarily dismissed from the agency by Jack Wilder. And, despite trying hard to obtain another position, she didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. So it looked as though it wouldn’t be long before she’d have to face the harsh facts of life and sell her apartment.
Although she suspected that Jack was to blame for this disastrous state of affairs, Laura knew that she didn’t have any real proof that he was behind her failure to get a job. Unfortunately, without some solid evidence that he was using his influence in the theatrical world and deliberately blocking her appointment to any of the firms she contacted, there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. And yet...well, it definitely seemed highly suspicious that not one of the agencies she’d approached had been able to offer her a job.
Despite being initially shattered by Jack’s shockingly cruel, heartless decision, she now burned with an ever increasing anger and deep resentment at the way she’d been treated. The ratfink had made absolutely no attempt to contact her, either by phone or in person. So it was obvious that he didn’t give a damn about the fact that he’d completely ruined her life. I’ll have his guts for garters! Laura promised herself grimly, amazed that she could have imagined herself in love with such an unbelievably awful man.
In fact, the only faint light amidst the doom and gloom had been the long, warm and sympathetic phone call from Susie Carter, some days ago. Formerly Jack Wilder’s secretary and PA, Susie had left the agency to marry a wealthy man soon after Laura’s arrival. Sadly, it appeared that her marriage had not been a success.
‘We couldn’t seem to agree on anything—not even having children, which I wanted and he didn’t,’ Susie had told her with a heavy sigh. ‘So, when I discovered that he’d not only been unfaithful for most of our short married life, but was also having an affair with a young girl in his office, I decided that I’d had enough.
‘Unfortunately, Laura,’ she’d added with an unhappy sigh, ‘I have to say that being a merry divorcee isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’m not only lonely, but also bored stiff and longing to get back to the theatrical world. So when someone told me you’d left Jack’s firm I...well, I was hoping that you meant to start up on your own, and might need a personal assistant.’
‘Believe me, if I had some money saved up and could afford to have my own business, I’d take you on like a shot,’ Laura had assured her wistfully, before explaining that she was now completely broke and needed to get a job as soon as possible.
Luckily, it seemed that Susie had only heard vague rumours of the violent argument between her and Jack—and had no knowledge of the real reason behind their row and Laura’s dismissal from the firm. ‘I know my old boss can be a very difficult man to work for. However, I’m sure it won’t be long before you find another position that’s every bit as good as the last one,’ the other girl had said encouragingly, before promising to let Laura know if she heard of any vacancies.
It had been kind of Susie to call, and she was also grateful for the messages she’d received from many of her old clients, expressing their overwhelming dismay and sorrow that she was no longer able to look after their careers. While actors were known to be notoriously fickle—rapidly changing their agents whenever they felt they could do better with another firm—she’d been touched and heartened by the level of support which she’d received over the past few weeks. Not to mention that quite extraordinary phone call yesterday—from Donald Hunt, of all people!
Never having met the man who’d once been a business partner of Jack Wilder, Laura had been certain that it must be a hoax—possibly from one of her friends in the acting profession. And, even after he had eventually managed to convince her that it really was Donald Hunt on the phone, it had taken her some considerable time to fully understand what he was saying.
Boiled down to the bare essentials, it seemed that Jack’s ex-partner was now a mega-rich property developer who, over the years, had expanded the family construction business which he’d inherited from his father. Not only did he own a number of large office blocks in central London, but he’d also recently purchased the building where she’d been working until only a few weeks ago.
‘Well...er...it’s nice to hear from you, Donald,’ she’d murmured with a puzzled frown, wondering why on earth a man whom she’d never met should now be ringing her completely out of the blue.
However, as he’d proceeded to explain the business proposition which lay behind his phone call, Laura’s green eyes had widened in astonishment.
‘Oh, come on, Donald—you must be joking!’ she’d gasped, wondering if she was standing on her head or her heels. ‘I mean...yes, of course I’d love to have my own theatrical agency. Who wouldn’t? And your offer to set me up in business is...well, it’s amazingly kind and generous. But...but I couldn’t possibly go along with your idea of running the agency from the same building as WHAM. I...well, I’m sure it would be totally unethical of me to do such a thing. Not to mention the fact that Jack would be absolutely furious!’ she’d added with a nervous giggle.
Besides which, as Laura now told herself, she wasn’t entirely a fool. While Donald had, of course, strenuously denied any intention of making mischief, or causing trouble for his ex-partner, she still had considerable doubts about the motives which lay behind his amazing offer.
‘No, I can assure you that this definitely isn’t a personal vendetta,’ he’d assured her when she had tentatively raised the subject. ‘My bust-up with Jack is now ancient history, and I certainly don’t bear him any ill will. In fact, as it turns out, he did me a considerable favour. I’ve had far more success as a property developer than I ever would have had as a theatrical agent. What we’re talking about here is purely a business proposition. I’ve got some empty office space which needs filling, and from all I hear you’re more than capable of running a successful agency.
‘However,’ he’d continued, with a slightly self-conscious bark of laughter, ‘I must admit that I do sometimes miss the buzz I used to get from meeting so many famous and interesting people. And it might be fun to have a small stake in the business once again. However, it’s nonsense to think that Jack Wilder, with so many highly successful clients on his books, is likely to care about my involvement, one way or another,’ Donald had added firmly.
Despite his reassuring words, Laura hadn’t been entirely convinced, feeling obliged—however reluctantly—to turn down what was clearly the offer of a lifetime. Because it was one thing for her to run a small theatrical agency from home, or from a garret in Soho, neither of which was likely to trouble her ex-employer, but she was quite certain that he’d be extremely annoyed if, as Donald had proposed, she began operating from a large and glamorous business suite directly beneath his own office. And, if she was so unprincipled as to pinch any of his clients, Jack wouldn’t just be extremely annoyed—he’d go completely bananas!
Sinking down onto a sofa, Laura indulged herself for a moment in the delicious daydream of causing the maximum number of headaches for her ex-boss, before she eventually pulled herself together. She might be furiously angry with Jack—but even if he had behaved badly there was absolutely no excuse for her to do so. A good job will turn up soon; you’ve just got to be patient, she told herself firmly, then decided to have a shower and wash her hair.
Unfortunately, she was only too well aware that being patient wasn’t one of her strong points. And the normally refreshing, fine needle spray of hot water did nothing to soothe her battered spirits, nor ease her weary body. Over the past few weeks, it had seemed as though she’d barely had any sleep, with Jack’s tall, dark figure striding arrogantly through her restless dreams. Even now she couldn’t seem to prevent herself from recalling, in vivid detail, every moment of those few short days spent alone with Jack in the South Pacific.
She’d had no idea what lay ahead of her when they’d landed at Papeete Airport. It had been her first visit to the Polynesian Islands, and she hadn’t realised just how exhausting the hot and humid atmosphere would prove to be. While she and Jack had tried to deal with the problems of their client, Craig Jordan, it hadn’t taken them long to discover that the set of Mutiny on the Bounty was definitely not a happy ship.
Not only had Craig been at loggerheads with the director, principally over his interpretation of the part of Fletcher Christian—the leader of the mutineers—but the producer had been constantly on the phone to the financiers in New York, who had been threatening to withdraw backing from a production which was clearly going over budget. To make matters worse, the actor playing Captain Bligh had been carted off to hospital with a grumbling appendix, the make-up department had been maintaining a ‘go slow’ over difficult working conditions, and the scriptwriters had appeared to be permanently drunk.
Quickly sorting out his client’s difficulties—which had mainly consisted of telling Craig to forget his new-found enthusiasm for method acting and to concentrate on earning his two-million-dollar fee—Jack had also somehow managed to pour soothing oil over most of the other problems currently bedevilling the production.
‘I don’t know how you do it,’ she told him at the end of the week as they sat out on the terrace of their hotel, sipping gin slings as they watched the tropical sun sink slowly down beneath the horizon. Gazing at Jack’s tall, broad-shouldered figure clothed in a crisp white short-sleeved open-necked shirt and trim navy shorts, Laura found herself envying the way that he always managed to look so cool and unruffled—in sharp contrast to herself, the scruffy film crew and the heavily costumed actors, all visibly wilting in the steamy heat.
‘When we arrived, I felt certain that it wouldn’t be long before there was going to be a real mutiny,’ she continued. ‘But now that the writers have decided to lay off the booze, and everyone else has calmed down, the only problem you haven’t yet solved seems to be the question of extra finance to complete the film.’
‘I may be able to sort out some simple problems but I’m afraid I can’t perform miracles!’ he laughed, before ordering more drinks from a passing waiter.
Continuing to discuss various aspects of the troubled production, which, in her view at least, was destined to be a total flop at the box office, she was surprised when he suddenly announced that it was time they both had a break.
‘A break...?’ She frowned at him in puzzlement.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Frankly, there’s not much more we can do here—although Craig has asked me to let you stay on for another week, just in case any further problems should arise. Hey, relax!’ he added with a grin as she groaned and pulled a face. ‘I know looking after Craig isn’t easy—but it’s hardly a fate worse than death!’
‘Maybe not, but it comes pretty close,’ Laura grumbled, dreading having to cope with the neurotic, highly strung film star, who genuinely believed that he was totally irresistible to women. ‘Do I really have to stay on here?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid you do,’ Jack told her firmly, explaining that he was returning to London after the weekend for an important meeting. However, with a few days in hand, he’d decided, he went on to tell her, to accept an invitation from the producer of the film, who’d arranged a trip to an archipelago of tiny atolls in the Pacific Ocean, only ninety minutes away by air from Tahiti.
‘Quite frankly, Laura,’ he added, ‘for the past week we’ve been forced to listen to enough moaning and whining to last a lifetime! So it will do us both good to get away for a few days.’
‘You mean...the invitation includes me as well?’
‘Well, I was hardly planning to leave you behind,’ he drawled sardonically. ‘Unless, of course, you simply hate the idea of sitting beneath shady palm trees, gazing out over a blue lagoon—and savouring the total peace and quiet?’
‘It sounds like heaven,’ she agreed with a wistful sigh. ‘But—’
‘Good, that’s settled,’ he said firmly as he rose to his feet. ‘I’m going to be tied up with business calls for the rest of this evening, but I’ve arranged for us to be collected from the hotel first thing tomorrow morning. By the way, don’t forget to pack your bikini,’ he added, gently brushing her cheek with his finger before turning to stride away.
Left alone on the terrace, Laura’s mind was filled by a mass of confusing emotions as she gazed blindly out over the ocean, now barely visible in the gathering darkness. Back in London, frantically busy during working hours with the phone going non-stop, she normally had no trouble in stifling her feelings for Jack. But she wasn’t at all sure that this weekend break was a good idea. Especially when merely the soft, warm touch of Jack’s hand on her face could leave her feeling almost sick with hunger and desire.
It had, of course, been nothing more than a careless, friendly gesture. But there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about the almost overwhelming, deep longing to find herself clasped within his strong embrace.
Desperately trying to pull herself together, Laura realised that she was undoubtedly guilty of overdrama-tising the situation. After all, she and Jack weren’t likely to be alone on this trip. Sam, the producer, was a jovial and gregarious man who was almost bound to have asked several other actors and staff to join him. So allowing herself to get into a state about spending a weekend in Jack’s company wasn’t just silly—it was totally pathetic!
However, despite sternly lecturing herself on the folly of indulging in hopelessly romantic dreams, she slept badly that night. And when she descended to the hotel lobby the next morning it was to discover that her strong sense of apprehension and foreboding had been well founded, after all.
‘The balloon has just gone up,’ Jack announced as he led her towards a waiting taxi, explaining that the financial backers of the film had apparently run out of patience and were threatening to withdraw funding. With Sam and his assistants having to catch the first plane back to New York, in a desperate attempt to save the production, it now seemed that only Jack and Laura would be free to enjoy the weekend.
‘But...but surely we can’t just disappear like this?’ she muttered nervously. ‘Most of the cast will be out of their minds with worry, and—’
‘Nonsense! There’s absolutely nothing we can do about the situation,’ Jack said as their taxi sped through the crowded, noisy streets of Papeete towards the airport. ‘And I certainly don’t intend to spend the next few days wet-nursing a bunch of grouchy, bad-tempered people—however sorry I might feel for them,’ he added firmly, refusing to listen when she pointed out that their client, Craig Jordan, wouldn’t be at all happy with their departure from the unhappy scene.
‘Craig is perfectly capable of looking after himself for a few days,’ her employer retorted dismissively. ‘And, since fate has clearly taken a hand in this affair, what I now have in mind certainly doesn’t include a third party!’ He paused for a moment before adding quietly, ‘However, if you really don’t feel like coming on this trip, Laura, then you only have to say so.’
There was no mistaking the glint in his grey eyes, the warm smile accompanying his words causing her to feel unexpectedly breathless, her heart pounding with a crazy mixture of soaring, wild excitement and nervous apprehension. Did ‘what I have in mind’ mean what she thought it did? Because, if so, she was going to have to take a very quick decision. Once she got on that plane with Jack, there would be no going back. Whatever the outcome, their relationship was never going to be the same again.
On the other hand, he was at least playing fair and giving her the chance to call the whole thing off. So, the safe, sensible decision would be to firmly and politely decline to accompany him on the trip—right? Unfortunately, it was proving difficult, if not downright impossible, to think clearly at the moment. It suddenly seemed as if he was sitting far too close, her mind and concentration distracted by the long, mahogany-brown legs almost touching her own, her nostrils filled with the strangely intoxicating, heady tang of his cologne.
Deciding to be sensible, Laura took a deep breath, fully intending to say that she’d prefer to remain in Tahiti. She was, therefore, considerably astounded to find herself agreeing that, yes...maybe a short break would be a good idea after all.
Totally unable to explain to herself, let alone to anyone else, why she should have agreed to such an emotionally insane invitation, it seemed to Laura as if she spent the rest of the day in a completely mindless daze.
Their hotel, on a tiny atoll fringed by totally deserted white sandy beaches and overlooking the crystal-clear waters of a dark blue lagoon, was far more breathtakingly beautiful than she could have ever imagined. However, she was aware only of the tall, dark man who had dominated her dreams for so long. Drowning helplessly in the gleaming depths of his slate-grey eyes as they dined alone on the candlelit terrace of the hotel, of which they appeared to be the only guests, she allowed herself to be led, like a sleepwalker, to the door of his room overlooking the lagoon.
‘It’s not too late to change your mind, Laura, if you think this isn’t a good idea,’ he said softly.
She gave a bemused shake of her head. ‘No, I...er...I think I know what I’m doing...’ she murmured, totally caught up in the magic of the moment.
‘I’m glad someone has their feet on the ground, because I certainly haven’t,’ he muttered thickly under his breath, drawing her into his room and kicking the door closed behind them. ‘God knows, I’ve tried to be sensible—but I simply can’t seem to help myself.’
‘I don’t understand...’ she whispered helplessly as he drew her close to his tall, rangy figure.
‘Surely you must have guessed that I’ve been absolutely crazy about you for the past year?’ The thick, husky tone of his low voice seemed to echo in her ears. ‘I’ll never know how I’ve managed to keep my hands off you for so long...’ he breathed as his arms closed tightly about her slim frame, his mouth possessing her lips in a kiss of passionate intensity.
With her mind and body seized by a raging tide of sexual excitement and desire, she ardently welcomed the fierce, determined possession by his lips and body. Beside the clamouring demand of their mutual desire, all sense of caution or moral precepts seemed totally unimportant and unreal.
Throughout that long night, it seemed to Laura as if she’d become completely lost to all sense of time and place. She was only aware of a compulsive need to respond to the soft, long, sweeping caress of his fingers, purring and glowing with rapture as she unashamedly offered her nude body to his eyes and hands, her own senses delighting in the firm texture of his flesh and the hard muscles of the arms fiercely pulling her towards him.
Beneath the mastery of his touch, it seemed as though she had become a wanton creature, her nostrils savouring his musky, masculine scent, her lips tasting the salty fragrance of his skin, until overwhelming desire yet again claimed them both, a frenzied need not merely to be possessed, but to be totally consumed and fulfilled, the intensity of their lovemaking causing her to cry out loud with joy and overwhelming happiness.
Now, as she looked back on those two, brief days which they’d spent together, scarcely leaving the small cottage at their hotel—other than to wander hand in hand into the calm blue waters of the lagoon, or stroll along the fine, powdery white sand of deserted beaches—Laura found herself wondering if, in reality, it had all been a dream. With her being so madly in love with Jack, maybe her over-fertile imagination really had, somehow, conjured up that blissful, halcyon time of enchantment and rapture.
Because it was the only explanation which appeared to make any sense of what had happened less than twenty-four hours after her return to London. Even now, over three weeks later, she could still almost feel her skin crawling with the humiliation of Jack’s cool, ruthless rejection—a crushing blow from which she was finding it well-nigh impossible to recover.
Slipping on a bathrobe and winding a towel about her damp hair, she wandered disconsolately out of the bathroom, deciding to drown her sorrows in a cool drink. But, just as she was making her way to the kitchen, she heard a ring on the doorbell.
Grumbling under her breath at the repeated, loud buzz of the bell, Laura tightened the belt of her towelling gown and went to open the door.
‘What...what on earth are you doing here?’ she gasped, suddenly feeling quite sick as she gazed through the few inches of open door, which still had its chain firmly in place.
‘To see you, of course,’ Jack retorted, his lips tightening as the pale-faced girl continued to stare at him with shocked, glazed eyes. ‘Come on, Laura,’ he added with ill-concealed impatience. ‘Undo the chain and let me in.’
After a moment’s hesitation, she gave a helpless shrug and did as he asked, stepping back in silence and allowing him to walk past her into the apartment.
‘I still can’t think what you’re doing here,’ she muttered, finding her voice at last as she reluctantly followed him into the sitting room. ‘In fact, you’re just about the last person I expected to see.’
‘I’ve been in the United States for the past few weeks. In fact, I’ve come here straight from the airport,’ he said, brushing a tired hand through his thick, dark hair. ‘As I suspected when we were in Tahiti, it now looks as if the film’s financial problems have just about scuppered Mutiny on the Bounty.’
‘So, what else is new?’ she retorted caustically. ‘Anyone with half an eye could see that the film was going to be a Grade A flop.’
He shrugged. ‘Flop or not, I had to make sure that the financial backers honoured Craig’s contract. However, the time I spent in America wasn’t entirely wasted, because I’ve now decided to open an office in New York.’
‘Yes, well, I’m sure that’s all very interesting,’ she snapped, nervously tightening the belt of her robe and deeply resenting the way his tall figure, formally elegant in a dark suit, seemed to dominate even the large sitting room.
‘However, just in case you’ve forgotten,’ she continued grimly, ‘you sacked me some three weeks ago. So your current business plans have absolutely nothing to do with me. Right?’
‘Wrong,’ he retorted curtly, before giving an impatient sigh at the cold, stony expression on her face. ‘Relax—I haven’t come here to quarrel with you, Laura. So why don’t you come down off your high horse and give me a cup of coffee?’
‘A cup of coffee?’ she echoed blankly, completely astounded by the sheer nerve of the awful man. Did he really imagine that he could just casually swan back into her life, as if nothing had happened?
‘I’m feeling so jet-lagged that either coffee, tea or a stiff drink would be equally welcome,’ he explained with a weary shrug of his broad shoulders.
‘Quite frankly, Jack,’ she retorted grimly, ‘the only thing I feel like giving you is a very hard thump on the nose!’
He gave a short bark of wry laughter. ‘That’s what I love about you, darling—you’re all heart!’ he murmured, his lips curving into such a warm, infectious grin that her pulse seemed to miss a beat and she felt quite dizzy for a moment. ‘However, I would be grateful if you’d put that thump on hold for a while—because not only am I practically dying of thirst, but we obviously need to have a long talk.’
Five minutes later, and furious with herself for being so weak and feeble, Laura was swearing grimly under her breath as she removed two wineglasses from a kitchen cupboard, before moving over to explore the contents of the fridge.
What on earth was wrong with her? Why was she in here, meekly getting the beastly man his cold drink, when she should have given him a hefty kick in the shins and told him to get lost? Because she was spineless—that was why! she told herself glumly.
And what about all that good advice which she’d been giving herself over the past three weeks, and which now seemed to have been a complete waste of time? If all it took to reduce her stomach to rubble was a charming smile and a disturbing gleam in the slate-grey, heavy-lidded eyes of her ex-employer—currently making himself comfortable in her sitting room—it looked as if she was in deep, deep trouble.
On the other hand...tossing Jack out on his ear wasn’t really a viable course of action, she consoled herself miserably. For one thing, he was far taller and heavier than she was. And, if she was really honest, she didn’t entirely loathe the idea of what he’d referred to as ‘a long talk’. Especially as she intended to do all the talking! I’ll tell him his fortune, she promised herself grimly. By the time I’ve finished with that Casanova, he’ll definitely wish that he’d stayed celibate all his life!
‘I’m afraid the cupboard is rather bare at the moment. All I could find in the fridge was a bottle of white wine,’ she told him, carrying a tray through into the sitting room.
‘That’s fine,’ he murmured, 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, sweetheart,’ he drawled, deciding to ignore the obvious rage and fury of the girl now standing at the end of the sofa with her hands on her hips and glaring down at him with such stormy green eyes. In his experience, women definitely did not want to be told that they looked far more beautiful when they were angry. So, for the moment, perhaps it would be as well to tread carefully, and concentrate on resolving some of their problems?
‘I came here today to see you,’ he continued, ‘with the sole purpose of bringing you tidings of comfort and joy.’
She gave a snort of cynical disbelief. ‘That’ll be the day!’
‘“O ye of little faith”!’ he murmured, his lips curving into a broad grin of sardonic amusement.
Maybe it was that arrogant, supremely confident smile that finally pushed her over the edge? Mulling over the unfortunate episode later, Laura would realise that losing her temper with the awful man had not been a good idea. But, suddenly consumed with blind rage at his damned condescension—and the fact that he seemed to be using her home to recover from a night out on the tiles!—she hadn’t given a thought to the consequences.
‘Don’t you dare quote the Bible at me, you...you two-timing Casanova!’ she stormed. ‘And my apartment is definitely not a rest-home for tired old theatrical agents,’ she added furiously, bending down to push his feet off the sofa:
The next few seconds seemed to whiz by in a blur. One moment she was leaning down over the arm of the couch, and then—in what seemed like the twinkling of an eye—she found herself being pulled roughly forward, almost flying through the air, before finding herself lying sprawled on top of Jack’s long, hard body.
‘For heaven’s sake!’ she gasped, lying winded and dazed for a moment. Then panic set in as she felt his arms closing about her. ‘What...what on earth do you think you’re doing?’
‘I don’t like being referred to as either “old” or “tired”. Nor do I care to be shouted at by hoity-toity females!’ he drawled with silky menace, although there was a faint smile on the face only inches away from her own.
‘I can’t think why you’ve suddenly become so choosy. Everyone knows you just love chatting up your difficult female clients,’ she retorted breathlessly, frantically trying to wriggle free from the arms now ominously tightening about her like bands of steel.
‘Ah, but you’re talking about work. While this...’ he gave a low, sensual laugh ‘...this definitely comes under the heading of play!’
‘Not for me, it doesn’t!’ she panted, furious at finding herself so firmly trapped in his embrace and desperately trying to ignore the effect that his hard, muscular body was having on her own, trembling figure.
Jack raised his head, the piercing grey eyes studying her flushed features for a brief moment. ‘Liar!’ he taunted, his broad shoulders shaking with wry amusement as he leaned back on the cushions once more.
‘OK, Jack—you’ve made your point. Now, please let me go!’ she begged huskily.
‘No...no, I don’t think so. I’m rather enjoying myself at the moment,’ he murmured softly. ‘On the other hand, I can’t help thinking that we’d both be more comfortable if our positions were reversed.’
‘No!’ she shrieked. But he was already putting his words into action. A second later, she found herself lying on her back, trapped against the rear of the sofa on one side, with Jack’s broad-shouldered figure firmly blocking her escape on the other.
‘I’m not putting up with this sort of nonsense!’ she declared breathlessly as she struggled to sit up, grimly tugging at part of her long robe which had become caught beneath his body. ‘Let me go!’
‘Not just at the moment...’ he murmured, leaning forward to trap her beneath him, raising his hand to brush a stray lock of hair from her face before tucking it gently behind her ear.
‘Are you deaf? I said that I want you to let me go,’ she hissed, doing her best to ignore the swirling mass of emotions racing through her veins at his soft touch.
Completely ignoring her protests, he slowly and deliberately wound his fingers through her damp hair. ‘The past few weeks have been hell without you, Laura,’ he muttered. ‘I hadn’t realised just how much I need you by my side.’

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