Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Only Lover

Only Lover
Carole Mortimer
Carole Mortimer is one of Mills & Boon’s best loved Modern Romance authors. With nearly 200 books published and a career spanning 35 years, Mills & Boon are thrilled to present her complete works available to download for the very first time! Rediscover old favourites - and find new ones! - in this fabulous collection…A deal for a mistress…Farrah knows her father's career will be ruined unless she intervenes—and quickly! One simple, human error shouldn't be held against him and she’s sure his employer, darkly handsome and dynamic Joel Falcone, will understand…But Joel's hard-headed response shocks her—as does the powerful attraction between them!—and she’s uneasy at the cold calculation behind his offer. Yet with no other choice, Farrah must take his deal… Joel will help Farrah, on one condition: she must pretend to be his mistress!




Only Lover
Carole Mortimer


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Table of Contents
Cover (#uc1dda3c2-0e35-5959-b6d4-680004711a72)
Title Page (#u0291e672-1569-5b47-98a6-f920d824f026)
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ud052c911-1e2f-51e3-9fff-f28e85b07ac7)
JOEL looked up with a scowl as the intercom buzzed on his desk. ‘Yes?’ he asked curtly, his soft American drawl only faintly discernible.
‘Your eleven o'clock appointment has arrived,’ came Cathy's smooth reply.
Again Joel scowled. He wasn't in the mood for being pleasant this morning; last night's scene with Laura was still too vivid in his mind for him to be feeling polite. He clicked on the intercom again. ‘Show them in, Cathy,’ he said with a sigh.
His dark mood didn't lift as Cathy opened the connecting door between their offices to usher in the person waiting to see him. Cathy smiled at him before leaving the room, closing the door softly behind her. Joel transferred his attention to the girl who had entered the room at Cathy's bidding.
He needed no more than his normal male instincts to tell him that here was a beautiful girl. Her hair was a beautiful golden cap, wavy tendrils at her forehead and nape giving her the look of a cherub. But the tall curvaceous body certainly didn't belong to a child, far from it. The clear green eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes and the creamy matt complexion perhaps had too much of a look of forced innocence for Joel's liking, but if she could carry it off with any degree of conviction, who could blame her for trying? And the innocence did look natural, it was only Joel's cynical disbelief of all women that told him otherwise.
Joel sat forward in his deep leather armchair. ‘What can I do for you—–’ he consulted his appointment book. ‘Miss Halliday?'
Farrah licked her lips nervously, moving forward over the scatter rugs to stand in front of the huge mahogany desk. The desk seemed to be the only concession made to this room being an office. Huge leather-bound books lined the walls, deep leather armchairs in a rich brown colour stood either side of a huge drinks cabinet that looked, and probably was, a genuine antique, and half a dozen scatter rugs littered the highly polished floor. To Farrah it was like stepping back into the early nineteen-hundreds, and she felt even more unnerved than she had sitting outside in the reception area.
Joel Falcone was perhaps the only modern thing about this room and yet he wasn't in the least reassuring, with his dark over-long hair tinged with grey at the temples and shaped into the nape of his tanned neck, a hawk-like nose and firm sensuous lips that were now set in a straight forbidding line. But it was the eyes that affected her the most, narrowed icy blue eyes that appeared to miss nothing, and she was sure they didn't. His charcoal grey suit fitted perfectly across his powerful shoulders and the silk shirt gleamed whitely against the darkness of his skin.
‘Well, Miss Halliday?’ he said tersely, his voice deep and husky.
‘Don't you—–Don't you know me, Mr Falcone?’ she asked tremulously.
He raised an arrogant eyebrow. ‘Should I?'
‘Perhaps not me, but perhaps P-Paul Halliday.’ The last came out breathlessly.
Joel's dark brow creased in thought. ‘Paul Halliday,’ he repeated slowly. ‘You're his daughter? Or perhaps his wife?'
‘His daughter,’ she admitted. Still she saw no dawning comprehension in his dark arrogant face. ‘Don't you know who my father is?'
Joel began to feel impatient. He couldn't be bothered with this guessing game. ‘As far as I am aware your father works in the accounts department,’ his eyes sharpened with interest. ‘Ah, I begin to understand. Your father stole from this firm, did he not? Are you here to plead on his behalf?’ he mocked cruelly.
‘Not plead, no,’ her eyes sparkled angrily. ‘And my father did not steal from you. He borrowed a small amount of money and—–'
A deep mirthless laugh interrupted her tirade. ‘Your father did not borrow anything. And it was hardly a small sum. Twenty-five thousand pounds taken systematically over eleven months could hardly be classed in that light.'
Farrah's hands wrung together and Joel was forced to notice what beautiful hands they were, long and tapered with perfectly lacquered nails. ‘But my father needed that money. Oh, I know that doesn't excuse him, but you wouldn't miss twenty-five thousand pounds among your millions.'
‘Maybe not, in fact, I'm sure not,’ Joel said blandly. ‘But the excuse that he needed the money is hardly my affair. For whatever reason he stole that money, gambling debts, drink—although if he used all that money on drink he would be in his grave by now, or even if it was to buy you out of trouble, I do not see why my company should bail him—or you—out.'
She bit her lips hard to stop them from trembling. Her father had warned her that Joel Falcone was a hard man, but she hadn't realised just how hard. She had come here today with the intention of begging if necessary, but she couldn't do such a thing before this hard unyielding man. He would merely look down his nose at her and not give an inch.
‘He didn't need the money for himself—or me for that matter. I have no need of money.'
Joel looked at her elegant summer dress, her sheer tights and the well fitting leather shoes. His eyes moved slowly back to her face, and once again he was struck by her beauty. ‘I can see that. Do you have yourself a rich middle-aged protector who tries to live through your youth?’ he said this with a sneer, and Farrah flinched at his contempt.
Two angry spots of colour appeared on her creamy cheeks and suddenly she looked very youthful, her eyes wide and distressed. ‘I don't have a rich protector, Mr Falcone,’ she told him stiffly. ‘You just happen to pay well.'
‘I do?’ For once his bland expression deserted him. ‘Do you work for me?'
‘In Angie Preston's department,’ she supplied unwillingly, the last thing she or her father needed was for her to lose her job too. At the moment she was supporting both of them, although how long she could continue to do so she wasn't sure. The Falcone newspaper and magazine organisation did pay well as she had said, but certainly not enough to support two people.
‘The problem page!’ he said with disgust. ‘And how long have you been with the firm?'
‘Three years now, ever since I left school.'
‘School?’ Joel echoed sharply. ‘How old are you?’ he asked.
Farrah hesitated. She had deliberately dressed to look older for this appointment today, although with these baby waves that was quite difficult. And now she had ruined it all with a slip of the tongue. ‘Nineteen,’ she supplied miserably.
Joel's eyes narrowed even more. ‘And what does a child like you hope to achieve by coming here to see me? Your father is an embezzler and must pay the penalty for such a crime.'
‘Oh, but I'll—I'll do anything to save him from going to prison,’ her eyes pleaded with him. ‘Anything!'
‘Don't you think that's rather a rash statement to make, Miss Halliday?’ he said coldly. ‘You don't know what manner of man I am. I could ask anything whatsoever of you and you would be compelled to comply.'
‘Oh, but I—you wouldn't—–’ She blushed fiery red.
‘You're right, I wouldn't.’ His lips curled with distaste. ‘At thirty-seven I'm nearly as old as your own father. I haven't taken to seducing babes, no matter how charmingly they offer themselves to me. Does your father know what you're doing?'
‘He knows I've come to see you, yes.'
‘Why couldn't he come himself?'
‘He isn't well,’ Farrah replied resentfully. ‘He couldn't go to prison, Mr Falcone, it would kill him. Please don't prosecute him!'
Joel began to look bored. ‘The prosecution of your father is not my concern. I have security people to deal with things like that.'
‘Please don't be so cruel, Mr Falcone. My father is a sick man, and this worry isn't helping him. He stole that money for a good reason, I promise you that. I'll pay it all back, really I will.'
He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Twenty-five thousand pounds! My dear girl, you may only be nineteen, but it would take you nearly a lifetime to pay me back on the salary you earn.'
‘I don't intend to be working on the problem page the rest of my working life. I want to be a proper journalist.'
‘It would still take you years.’ He became thoughtful, his dark face almost satanic in its intensity. He might be thirty-seven years of age, but he was certainly the most excitingly handsome man Farrah had ever seen. He was like a sleepy feline, sleek and beautiful, and just as dangerous. She watched him as the silence continued, wondering what he was thinking behind that enigmatic expression.
‘You could just be the answer to my problem,’ he spoke softly, so softly she could hardly hear him. Joel looked at her critically. ‘A little young perhaps, but that can't be helped. At least you're beautiful.'
‘What are you talking about, Mr Falcone?'
He smiled slightly, but it was a smile without humour. ‘Just an idea I have. You said you would do anything—I hope you meant that. Go now, I have to think this over.'
‘But I—I—–When will I know?'
‘When I damn well choose to tell you,’ he snapped. ‘I'll call you in the department tomorrow. I take it you will be in to work tomorrow?'
‘Yes, but I—–’ She could just imagine the girls’ astonishment and curiosity if she were summoned up to the fifteenth floor to see the owner, Joel Falcone. She was only a very junior member of staff while this man was the owner of newspapers and magazines both in England and abroad, and was never seen by his minions. None of the girls in her office knew anything of her father's embezzling—she cringed at the word, but in truth there was no other description more fitting—they all assumed he was ill. How could she explain the reason for Joel Falcone's summons without involving her father?
Blue eyes narrowed to icy slits. ‘I care nothing for your embarrassment,’ he guessed the reason for her silence correctly. ‘Just make sure you come when you're called.'
Farrah could do nothing else but accept his words as a dismissal, he was obviously a man of forceful character who didn't expect his words to be questioned. Miserably she made her way home. She had thought she would be able to give her father some good news when she returned, but she was to be disappointed, and so, unfortunately, was he. The interview hadn't yet been concluded.
Her father looked up expectantly as she quietly entered their flat, his green eyes so like her own looking at her avidly, almost eagerly, and what he read in her face made his shoulders droop unhappily. Farrah could cheerfully have hit Joel Falcone's arrogant face at that moment for causing her father this extra pain.
‘No luck, I see,’ said her father wearily.
She sat down beside him on the sofa, taking his painfully thin hand into her own, trying to give him some of the warmth she had felt from the blazing sun outside. She smiled at him reassuringly. ‘It will be all right, Daddy, really it will.'
‘I bet the arrogant devil wouldn't even let you through the door when he realised who you were.'
Farrah couldn't bear the look of defeat on her father's face, a man who had once been a tall proud man, now but a shrivelled shell of himself. ‘You're wrong, Daddy, I did see him. We talked for about ten minutes or so.'
‘But you didn't get him to stop prosecution did you?'
‘Well no, but I—–'
‘Typical Italian is Joel Falcone,’ mumbled her father. ‘Not an ounce of forgiveness in their body. Just pure revenge.'
Farrah attempted a light laugh, but her father's words had sent an icy shiver down her back. ‘He isn't pure Italian, Daddy—well, not really. He's an Italian-American, he's probably never even been to Italy.'
‘Of course he has, Farrah, he has a branch of Falcone's over there. So he wouldn't agree to drop the charges,’ he repeated.
‘I didn't say that, Daddy,’ she licked her lips nervously. ‘He hasn't made up his mind yet.'
Her father looked at her sharply. ‘What does that mean?’ he asked slowly.
Farrah stood up to pace the room, a large sun-filled room that seemed to reflect her mother's own sunny personality. God, she missed her mother! What would she have done in this situation? What a stupid question that was; if it weren't for their love of her mother this situation wouldn't have arisen. But neither of them had realised her father was stealing that money. She forced a cheerful smile. ‘I'm to go back and see him tomorrow.'
Paul Halliday looked at her suspiciously. ‘What for?'
‘I don't know, Daddy. Just to give me his answer, I suppose.'
‘He could have done that today. He didn't make a pass at you, did he? I've heard of his reputation with women and it isn't very flattering. He had a string of women before finally settling for Laura Bennett a few years ago. Not that he's changed much. There seem to have been just as many women, and she isn't much better.'
‘No, Daddy, he didn't make a pass at me. Far from it. He told me he was old enough to be my father.'
‘And so he is. Must be forty if he's a day.'
‘He's thirty-seven, actually. And he's rather handsome in a dangerous sort of way. He's not the ordinary type of man you see about. There's something sort of—well, sort of special about him. You know—he's the sort you could never ignore in the street,’ she bubbled over with laughter. ‘He looks as if he should be the head of the Mafia or something, with all that black, grey-sprinkled hair, that dark harshly handsome face and the expensive handmade suits.'
‘Don't even say things like that in fun, Farrah. You never know.'
‘Don't be silly, Daddy. He doesn't look the violent type—powerful, yes, and seemingly completely in control of his own destiny, but not physically violent, at least, not needlessly so.'
‘He made quite an impression on you, didn't he, child?'
‘Oh yes. He was—well, he was quite something. Frightening, but so very much alive. He seemed to emit suppressed power, as if it only needed some little thing and he would explode into life. But he's cold—so cold, as if love has never touched him, or he has never allowed it to. It's strange really, I only saw him for a few minutes and yet I can remember him vividly.'
‘Now then, Farrah,’ her father said briskly, ‘don't become fanciful about the man. Remember, my future depends on him.'
All the light died out of her face as she sat down again beside her father. ‘Don't worry so, Daddy,’ she hugged him. ‘Everything will work out, you'll see.'
She told herself the same thing many times over the next day, looking up nervously every time the telephone rang. She had wanted to wear something rather smarter than the fitted denims and checked shirt that she usually wore, but that would have only drawn attention to herself. And that she could quite well do without. Especially after this morning's conversation with Fiona.
Fiona had sat on the side of Farrah's desk, a tall leggy brunette who was aware of her own beauty without being conceited. She was very popular with both sexes and Farrah returned her smile companionably. ‘Something wrong?'
She referred to the letters she had just passed on for reply to the older girl. Fiona shook her head. ‘No, these are fine. It's just that—well, you were off sick yesterday, right? Well, I could have sworn I saw you in the building,’ she looked puzzled. ‘In fact I thought you were going up in the private lift to the fifteenth floor.'
‘Who, me?’ Farrah did her best to give a teasing smile, she only hoped Fiona was convinced by the shaky result. ‘Going up to Joel Falcone's office? You must be joking!'
Fiona stood up, smiling self-derisively. ‘I thought I must have been wrong. None of us ever see the great man. I've never set eyes on him, and I've been here nearly four years.'
‘Rather elusive, is he?'
‘Elusive! The man's positively unattainable.'
‘But he's very friendly with Laura Bennett,’ Farrah pointed out, ‘so he can't be that unattainable.'
‘His sleeping partner, in more ways than one,’ scoffed Fiona. ‘I've always said business and pleasure shouldn't be mixed, and they're a good example.'
Farrah looked up now as Tracy beckoned her to the internal telephone. ‘Joel Falcone's office,’ she said in awed tones.
Farrah quickly took the receiver, turning away from the several pairs of eyes that had turned to look at her at Tracy's outburst. ‘Yes?’ she said breathlessly.
‘I want to see you now,’ came the cool clipped tones of her employer.
‘Now?’ she repeated stupidly.
He gave an impatient sigh. ‘Now, Miss Halliday, don't keep me waiting.’ The telephone clicked down firmly at the other end.
Farrah looked about her awkwardly, quietly making her excuses to leave the office before the girls’ curiosity got the better of them and they actually started to ask questions. She almost ran out of the office, getting into the lift and pressing the button for the fifteenth floor. Her heart began to beat erratically, sounding like a bass drum to her ears. The procedure of yesterday was repeated, except this time she wasn't kept waiting but was shown straight into Joel Falcone's spacious office.
Again as yesterday, he was seated behind the huge imposing desk, but dressed less formally, the dark grey business suit of yesterday discarded in favour of a black silk shirt opened casually at the neck and black trousers that fitted closely to his long muscular legs.
His eyes narrowed appraisingly as he took in her own appearance and Farrah put up a nervous hand to ruffle her short cherubic hair. It was an endearing gesture, and made those icy blue eyes narrow even more.
‘Miss Halliday,’ he said deeply.
‘Mr Falcone,’ she replied huskily. ‘I—er—– You asked me to come.'
‘Of course I did, Miss Halliday, I'm not so ancient that my memory fails me,’ his mouth twisted mockingly. ‘We have a conversation to finish.'
Farrah blinked nervously. ‘Yes, Mr Falcone. You—um—you said you had something to think over.'
Joel Falcone stood up, his tall lean frame even more intimidating as he came round the desk to stand in front of her. ‘Won't you sit down. Miss Halliday?'
She looked round at the leather armchair just behind her, dropping down thankfully into its luxurious depth and then wishing she hadn't as she realised how much smaller it made her feel as she looked up at him.
He began to pace up and down the office, emanating a completely masculine aura as he occasionally looked at her before turning frowningly away again. Suddenly he stopped in front of her. ‘Tell me, Miss Halliday—what do you think of me?'
Farrah looked at him open-mouthed. Whatever it was she had been expecting it certainly hadn't been a question like this. ‘Wh-What do I think of—of you?’ she asked hesitantly.
Icy blue eyes pinpointed her to the chair and Farrah moved back involuntarily. ‘Yes, me Miss Halliday, not Joel Falcone your employer, but Joel Falcone the man.'
What on earth was he talking about? Farrah felt completely bemused. She didn't quite see what this conversation had to do with her father and the taking of this man's money. ‘I don't quite see …’ She shook her head.
‘No one is asking you to. Answer the question, Miss Halliday.'
Farrah looked at him closely to see if he was mocking her, but his expression was unreadable. What could she say about such a man, especially to his face? Her cheeks blushed a fiery red and she sat forward uncomfortably. ‘Well, I—I don't know what to say!'
‘The truth would perhaps be preferable,’ he drawled dryly. ‘Speak up, girl. I don't bite—well, not babies like you anyway, and certainly not in these circumstances.'
She blushed again, looking away from his taunting face. ‘What am I supposed to say? You know what you look like, so why ask me?'
Joel Falcone sighed in exasperation. ‘I don't mean my physical looks—well, perhaps I do, but I don't mean the fact that I have dark hair, am tall, of Italian descent from my skin colouring, and look my age. I want to know how you feel about me, how my looks affect you?”
‘Well, for a start you don't look your age, experienced and—cynical and—–'
‘Yes? Well, don't stop now. This conversation could be the deciding point of your father's immediate future.'
‘Oh! Oh well, in that case,’ she looked at him critically. ‘You're cynical most of all—and rather condescending. And arrogant. But you're attractive too.'
‘Oh, I'm glad about that,’ he interrupted mockingly. ‘Let's concentrate on that, shall we?'
‘All right. Well, you have a sort of magnetism, animal magnetism I think they call it. And your features are ruggedly attractive, not handsome, you understand, but very attractive.'
Joel Falcone walked back around his desk and sat down again, smiling slightly at her embarrassment. ‘So we have established that you don't find me repulsive. That's good—in the circumstances. And I—I don't find you repulsive either. Too young for my taste, but then only I know that.’ He was talking quietly to himself again. He looked up at her. ‘Sorry, honey, I was far away.'
Farrah shrugged her shoulders. ‘What's all this about, Mr Falcone? I don't understand you.'
‘No, I don't suppose you do. But you will—oh, believe me, you will. Do you know anything about my personal life?'
She hadn't, but during the last twenty-four hours she had learnt that he had more than just a business relationship with the other owner of this firm, the actress Laura Bennett, but they both had other relationships. She paled. Surely he wasn't interested in her that way? Hadn't he said she was too young for him? But he had also said she wasn't repulsive to him. When she said anything yesterday she hadn't meant anything!
‘Relax, Miss Halliday. And as you don't seem to have an answer I will assume that you have heard a little about me but don't feel able to reveal it,’ he laughed harshly. ‘Why you should feel so reticent I have no idea. You've already called my cynical, condescending, and arrogant, so why draw the line at my private life?'
Her green eyes sparkled at his intended mockery. ‘I said those things because I know them to be true. The things I've heard about your private life are exactly that, hearsay. I don't feel able to judge you on that.'
Joel Falcone's mouth tightened visibly and Farrah flinched from his icy gaze. ‘I'm not asking you to judge me on anything,’ he snapped coldly. ‘You are hardly in a position to judge anyone.'
Farrah sprang agilely to her feet, sparks of anger shooting from her eyes. ‘You're cruel, Mr Falcone!’ she choked.
He smiled, a slow leisurely smile that taunted and mocked. ‘Yes, I'm that too. Sit down, Miss Halliday,’ he said harshly, all humour leaving his face to be replaced by a cold mask. ‘You asked for my help when I would be quite happy to let the law deal with your father. I thought I had found a way to help him and myself at the same time. It seems I was wrong.’ He stood up in conclusion of the interview. ‘You wouldn't be co-operative, and a sulky angry companion I can do without.'
All anger left Farrah at his dismissive words and her shoulders slumped dejectedly. She dropped back into the chair. ‘Please, Mr Falcone, I—I didn't mean to lose my temper. If you have some way of helping my father then I'll gladly help—co-operate, whatever,’ she said anxiously.
‘You really are desperate, aren't you? Very well, we'll get back to my private life. You have no doubt heard of my long-standing friendship with Laura Bennett.’ His mouth curled back sneeringly as she blushed. ‘I thought so, it seems to be public knowledge, wouldn't you say?'
‘Yes,’ she agreed softly.
‘Yes. Well, up until now it has been a very—intimate relationship, shall we say? Yes, very intimate.’ Joel Falcone obviously felt no embarrassment at his conversation, but Farrah blushed fiery red. ‘I see you understand my meaning,’ he taunted. ‘And while Laura may be satisfied with that sort of close business and personal arrangement, I find that it no longer suits me at all.'
Farrah felt tempted to ask what this had to do with her, but she resisted. She daren't anger this man any further. ‘Yes?’ she prompted.
He sighed deeply. ‘So, I'm completely bored by the whole tedious affair.'
‘Then why carry—–? Sorry,’ she bowed her head, ‘I didn't mean to pry.'
‘Why carry on,’ he finished for her, feeling none of her embarrassment. ‘I've asked myself the same thing many times. I don't have an answer—except perhaps that Laura seems to deliberately ignore any hints I may give about breaking up our relationship. At the begining I needed a hostess, I entertain a great deal, and I suppose you could say I used her. But whereas the affair seems to have cooled on my side, Laura seems determined to make something more permanent out of it. Needless to say, I don't want that. I want her out of my life once and for all.'
‘Mr Falcone, I don't see why I need to know all this. It isn't any of my business, is it?'
‘I'm not in the habit of telling my private affairs to complete strangers, in fact I don't discuss them with anyone,’ his voice was bitingly precise. ‘Unless of course I have a reason for it, and in your case I do.'
‘And what is that?’ Her curiosity was fully aroused now.
‘It's quite simple really, Miss Halliday. As I've said, my affair with Laura is over as far as I'm concerned, at least in the physical sense, but she seems to want to carry on with it. It's come to the point where I don't even want to see her.'
Farrah was still puzzled. ‘If you feel that strongly about it why don't you just tell her how you feel?'
‘I've tried, but unfortunately Laura feels that her shares in this company give her some sort of special privilege where I'm concerned. They don't. I want to buy her out, but she seems to feel that if I did that she wouldn't see me again. She's right. I don't appreciate her using our business tie to force our personal relationship. I intend showing her that I don't need her—in any way. We have an agreement in our contracts that if either of us decides to sell, shares must be offered to the other partner before being put on the open market. I want to make Laura so mad she has to sell. Now this is where you come in. If Laura genuinely believes me to be in love with, and possibly contemplating marriage with, another woman, then she'll realise I mean what I say about severing our friendship. Her pride won't stand for too much of that sort of treatment. I wanted things to end differently, but she's made that impossible. So,’ he sighed, ‘in return for dropping the charges against your father you are going to become my much-loved girl-friend.'

CHAPTER TWO (#ud052c911-1e2f-51e3-9fff-f28e85b07ac7)
‘I'M what!’ At his words Farrah had jumped to her feet and she stood staring at him with disbelief on her face.
‘Calm down, Miss Halliday,’ he said with infuriating calm. ‘I realise my idea isn't quite what you expected, but—–'
‘You're right, it isn't!’ Farrah burst out indignantly, glaring at him defiantly as she saw anger spark in those icy blue eyes at her interruption. ‘How dare you!’ she continued angrily. ‘How dare you suggest such a thing? I couldn't do it!’ she said determinedly, her tiny nose wrinkling with distaste.
‘I said calm down, Miss Halliday,’ Joel Falcone said without emotion. ‘My suggestion that you do this for me was not meant in the physical sense. I've already said you're too young for my tastes.'
‘Yes. Yes!’ Farrah replied impatiently. ‘But if you didn't mean for me to—to—–'
‘Go to bed with me,’ he supplied tauntingly.
‘Yes, go to bed with you! If you don't want that how will she ever think you're serious about me? That seems to be the normal way you progress.'
Blue eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. ‘Do you want to share my bed?'
‘Certainly not!’ But the question gave her a warm unfamiliar feeling inside. What would it be like to be held in this man's arms? To be held intimately against his taut naked body? She brought her chaotic thoughts to a halt, her eyes opening wide with shock as she realised how wanton her thoughts had become. ‘Then I don't understand,’ her eyes were wide with bewilderment.
‘This is all to be pretence, Miss Halliday. Just a way of getting Laura out of my life.'
‘I still don't see why you can't just tell her how you feel.'
‘I've tried, damn you! She still maintains the mistaken idea that those shares give her some sort of hold over me, another woman should convince her otherwise. Although I doubt if she'll be very happy about it, especially as her rival is so much her junior.'
He said all this with a certain amount of satisfaction and she realised he was so angered by Laura Bennett's behaviour that he would enjoy doing this to her. ‘I'm not her rival,’ she said quietly.
‘Only you and I will know that. As far as everyone else is concerned we'll be ecstatically in love with each other.’ His mouth turned back in a sneer.
‘Not if you act like that they won't.'
‘Don't worry, Farrah Halliday, my acting will be superb.'
Farrah started shaking. This man really meant what he was saying! ‘You can't really mean to do this, Mr Falcone—–'
‘Joel, please. If I'm to be your lover—–'
‘You aren't!’ she said sharply.
‘Your pretend lover,’ he amended mockingly. ‘Then you should call me by my first name.'
Farrah laughed brokenly. This couldn't be happening to her! ‘No one's going to believe this, Mr Falcone—Joel then,’ she said at his dark look. ‘No one who actually knows us, especially Miss Bennett.'
‘They'll believe it,’ he said firmly. ‘If you don't know that then you must be as innocent as you look, which no one could ever be. All those baby waves and trusting green eyes!’ he said in disgust. ‘What do you imagine all the girls down in your office are thinking at this moment? Well, I'll tell you. They probably think I'm making love to you right now. According to rumour, no woman is safe left alone with me.'
‘They—they wouldn't think that,’ she denied uncertainly.
‘Sure they would. Why not? You're beautiful, in a childish sort of way. And like I said, no woman is considered safe alone with me.'
‘But they wouldn't—–’ she shook her head.
‘Of course they damn well would! And to convince them even more you're going to leave the building with me right now.'
‘I am not!’ Farrah said indignantly. ‘It's only three o'clock. I can't just leave without telling anyone where I'm going.'
‘I don't intend that you should. That wouldn't benefit us in any way.’ He pressed down the intercom. ‘Cathy, get me Angie Preston.’ He turned to Farrah again. ‘This should set the tongues wagging.'
‘What do you mean to do—–?'
The telephone buzzed to interrupt her and Joel Falcone picked up the receiver. ‘Angie? Joel Falcone,’ he said shortly. ‘No, no, it isn't that. We'll get together about that some other time. I just wanted to tell you that Farrah Halliday won't be back in the department today. No, she isn't ill,’ his eyes silently mocked her. ‘She happens to be leaving with me.'
Farrah almost got up and ran then. It had started already, this deception that would become more and more involved. And she hadn't even agreed to it! But she had no choice in the matter. Joel Falcone had her trapped, and he knew it.
‘That's right,’ he continued, seemingly unaware of Farrah's inner turmoil. ‘And she may be a little late in the morning too. Right. We'll talk about that other matter at a later date.’ He rang off.
Farrah's eyes filled with unshed tears. ‘This is terrible,’ she said huskily. ‘I can't go through with it.'
‘Wouldn't you rather it happened this way than to have everyone know your father is nothing but a common thief?'
‘He isn't a common thief! He needed that money, desperately.'
‘So you've told me. I'd be interested to hear the reason.'
Anger sparked swiftly at his taunting voice. ‘Well, you aren't going to. My father is twice the man you'll ever be. And do you know why? I'll tell you why. Because he loves. You couldn't love anyone or anything—you wouldn't know how to. But my father would and does, and for someone he loves he's willing to do anything. You're just a machine, Mr Falcone, a cold unfeeling machine!'
‘But a rich one,’ he said dryly, completely unmoved by her outburst. ‘And in this case it means I hold all the right cards. Wouldn't you agree?'
‘I hate you, Mr Falcone. I hate you!'
‘No, you don't, Farrah. From this moment on you're going to love me, or at least pretend to. It's something I've found women are good at.'
‘I couldn't even pretend to love you,’ Farrah said hotly. ‘You're hateful!'
‘So you would prefer that I prosecute your father?'
‘No! You know I wouldn't,’ she said miserably.
Joel Falcone sighed impatiently. ‘You can't have it both ways, you know. Go through with this pretence and I drop the charges against your father, plus forget the twenty-five thousand pounds he owes me. You know the alternative.'
‘You consider this charade worth twenty-five thousand pounds!'
He nodded. ‘I simply don't want Laura involved in my business affairs any longer. No doubt she'll want more than the market value for those shares.'
‘And won't you mind paying it?'
He shrugged. ‘Why should I? She'll be out of my life, finally.'
‘That's some friendship you have there,’ she said dryly.
‘That's right, but I've just explained that to you.’ He stood up in one fluid movement. ‘Are you ready to leave now?'
Farrah also stood up, moving jerkily to the door. ‘My—my bag and jacket. I left them in the office. I can't just leave them there.'
‘That's all right. Angie wanted to talk to me about something anyway. You can collect your things while I talk to her.'
‘Oh, but I—–'
‘Do it, Farrah!’ he ordered impatiently. ‘Make your mind up to this, because once we step outside this room there'll be no turning back. Once you're committed you will follow this through to the end. And no one is to know it's pretence. You understand, no one! Not even your father.'
‘But I have to tell him,’ she said, horrified. ‘I can't let him think that I—–'
‘Not even your father, Farrah!’ he repeated firmly. ‘You can tell him when it's all over and not before. It shouldn't take long, a couple of months, no more.'
‘A couple of months!'
He looked at her with steady blue eyes, collecting a burgundy-coloured leather jacket from what appeared to be a cloakroom and shrugging his powerful shoulders unhurriedly inside. ‘A couple of weeks would hardly be convincing. The first few weeks we'll just make sure we're seen together in all the right places, later we'll progress to the occasional night spent together at my apartment.'
Farrah looked at his open-mouthed. ‘I couldn't do that! What would everyone think if I stayed at your apartment? What would my father think!'
‘Exactly what they're supposed to, I should imagine. Believe me, Laura won't be able to stand too much of that sort of treatment. She likes to think that any man she wants will come running when she calls.'
‘But you won't,’ she derided.
‘Not any more—if I ever did.'
‘You aren't the faithful type at all, are you?’ she saw his mouth tighten angrily. ‘I'm sorry, but you did say I wasn't to be sulky and angry.'
‘I didn't say you had to be rude instead. And no, I'm not the faithful type. I've yet to meet a woman who can make me feel possessive enough to feel the need to be a one-woman man.'
‘You consider women are only to be used and not loved?’ she asked interestedly.
He gave a mocking smile. ‘Oh, I love them.'
Farrah blushed. ‘I don't mean physically.'
‘I know that,’ he smiled at her embarrassment, a mocking smile that taunted. He shrugged. ‘No woman has ever proved to me to be any different, you're all money-grasping. A present pays for many things, but without them you get nothing.'
Farrah shook her head. ‘That isn't true, at least not on my part. No man has ever given me presents for services rendered.'
Joel Falcone's eyes raked mercilessly over her casual appearance. ‘Seeing you dressed like that, I can believe it.'
‘Well, you don't exactly look the part of the debonair millionaire yourself,’ she retorted tartly.
‘Perhaps not,’ he agreed. ‘Okay, let's go.’ He put a casual arm about her slim shoulders and felt her stiffen. ‘Once we step outside this door,’ he reminded her.
Farrah forced herself to accept his touch, resisting the impulse to move away from the closeness of his lithe athletic body. Not that it was unpleasant—that was the trouble. She found him much too attractive and dangerous this close to. And if his acting proved to be as superb as he said it would be she hated to think what would happen. His hand rested lightly on her shoulder and she could feel his warmth through her thin cotton shirt.
Those compelling blue eyes looked into her own apprehensive green ones. ‘All right?’ he asked softly.
‘All right,’ she agreed.
Joel Falcone opened the door for her, ushering her out of the office before him but managing to retain his hold on her. ‘Smile, Farrah,’ he said quietly. ‘I don't want Cathy to think I'm taking you out of here under duress.'
Farrah forced an almost natural smile on to her lips. all too much aware of the vital man at her side. His secretary, Cathy, glanced up from her typing to look at them, her eyes narrowing with surprise as she saw her employer's arm draped casually across Farrah's shoulders.
‘I'll be out for the rest of the day,’ Joel Falcone informed her smoothly. ‘Cancel the rest of my appointments for today, and for tomorrow morning.'
‘Yes, sir.’ Cathy looked puzzled by this strange turn of events. ‘Is there anywhere I can reach you if necessary?'
Joel looked at Farrah. ‘Under no circumstances am I to be disturbed,’ he drawled. ‘By anyone.'
Farrah walked out of the office with him, not having said a word, and the smile seemed fixed on her face. And this was just the start! ‘I'm not sure I can go through with this,’ she said shakily, moving away from him as they entered the lift together.
‘Too late,’ he said unconcernedly.
‘Has it ever occurred to you that I might have a boy-friend?’ she asked resentfully.
‘It did, but no protestations were forthcoming in that direction, so I assumed there wasn't a particular man in your life.'
‘But there is!'
‘Then he can't be very important to you or you would have mentioned him earlier. Forget him.’ He waited for her to precede him out of his private lift on to the sixth floor. ‘I already have.'
‘Are you always this dismissive of other people's happiness?'
‘Only when it's interwoven with mine. Look, Farrah, no one is going to be hurt by this pretence of ours. Laura just has a thing about becoming my wife at the moment. Once she realises it's no go she'll be glad to accept the money I'm offering her for her shares. Your father will stay free, you will have whatever I care to give you in presents during the next couple of months, and I—well, I will gain my freedom from a determined woman.'
‘And how do I tell Nigel I won't be seeing him any more?'
‘That's up to you.’ He stopped outside the door to her department. ‘I'll be with Angie only a matter of minutes, join us when you've collected your belongings.'
Joel Falcone caused quite a stir when he walked into the large open plan office that accommodated ten girls and Angie Preston who had her own separate office at the end of the room, but when Farrah followed him in all conversation ceased altogether and nine pairs of eyes were riveted on them.
‘I won't be long,’ Joel said huskily, but loud enough for people close to them to hear.
Farrah walked quickly to her desk, her head downbent as she gathered up her black velvet jacket and her denim shoulder bag. This was proving to be more embarrassing than she had imagined and she could hear a few whispers from her workmates now. Well, this was no good, she couldn't creep about like this all the time, and so flinging back her head almost defiantly she faced the girls in the office with pride and dignity. Fiona was looking at her with puzzled eyes and somehow Farrah managed to summon up a smile.
Fiona came over to her. ‘What's going on?’ she asked curiously.
‘I—er—I—It's rather awkward to explain—–’ She spotted Joel Falcone out of the corner of her eye as he made his way across the office to her side.
He smiled straight into her eyes and Farrah felt her heart lurch. It was a warm possessive smile and she couldn't help but respond to it. She didn't think this pretence was going to prove too difficult if he smiled at her like that too often, in fact it could prove too easy, much too easy, and it could end with her being very hurt by this man.
‘Ready to leave, honey?’ Again his arm slipped about her shoulders.
Farrah ignored the audible gasps coming from around the room. She nodded. ‘Ready,’ she agreed. ‘I'll talk to you tomorrow, Fiona.'
Complete silence followed their progress out of the room, but as soon as the door closed behind them Farrah could hear the sudden murmur of conversation. Joel Falcone gave a satisfied smile. ‘By five o'clock this evening the whole building should know about our little affair.'
Farrah pressed the lift button for the ground floor. ‘I don't see what good that's going to do, except embarrass me, of course. Miss Bennett is a famous actress, she doesn't go about gossiping with the staff.'
‘From little acorns …’ he quoted softly. ‘The more people who know about it the better. This way it will be more believable.'
‘If I don't believe it I don't see why anyone else should.'
‘They will.’ He studied her intently for several seconds. ‘Of course you don't look kissed as you ought to do,’ he took a step towards her, ‘but that can soon be remedied.'
‘No!’ Farrah backed away from him, more frightened that he might get a response than of the actual man himself. ‘I—I don't want to be kissed!'
He watched her through mocking eyes. ‘Why not?’ he asked softly.
‘Because—well, because I—I don't find you attractive.'
‘But you've already told me that you do find me attractive,’ he reminded.
‘I find a tiger attractive in the same way,’ she retorted hotly. ‘All right to look at from afar but too dangerous to touch.'
‘Dangerous?’ he repeated curiously. ‘What a strange word to use!'
‘But fitting, don't you agree?'
‘Maybe.’ He opened the lift doors with the touch of a button. ‘Try to look as if you aren't terrified of me—or I could just give you that kiss here in reception.'
‘You wouldn't!’ Her green eyes widened.
‘I wouldn't count on it,’ he said lazily, retaining a tight hold on her arm as they walked unhurriedly out of the building. A black Ferrari stood parked on the forecourt and Joel Falcone nodded dismissal of the commissionaire as he moved to open the doors for them. Joel himself saw Farrah seated in the passenger seat before climbing in beside her. ‘Comfortable?'
Farrah shifted about in the confines of the car, all too much aware of the man at her side. She could smell his aftershave and the clean male smell of him and her senses stirred unbidden. It was a fantastic car and completely suited to its sleek, confident owner. ‘Fine, thanks,’ she answered shortly.
‘Good.’ He put the car into gear.
‘Where are you taking me?’ Farrah asked with more confidence than she felt.
‘Home,’ Joel Falcone drawled. ‘Your home.'
‘Oh, but I thought—–'
‘I'm well aware of what you thought. I'm taking you home now and calling for you later. We're going to a nightclub I know.'
Farrah was completely fascinated by the harsh face of Joel Falcone, harsh and cynical and yet completely riveting. Deep lines of experience were etched from nose to mouth and his mouth had a cynical twist to it. He left her breathless and it took all her strength to answer him. ‘Tonight?’ she squeaked, swallowing convulsively at the thought of spending the evening with him.
‘Sure, tonight.’ Those deep blue eyes raked over her pale face, eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes that should have looked effeminate but didn't. ‘You weren't going anywhere else, were you?'
Farrah gave a wan smile. ‘If I were I'm sure you would tell me to break it.'
To her surprise he smiled too, a warm natural smile that reached his eyes. ‘You learn fast, young Farrah Halliday. Were you going out?'
‘No,’ she admitted reluctantly.
‘Then you won't need to break it, will you. Are you going to tell your father about me? Oh, not of our agreement, but that we'll be going out together.'
‘Not until I have to.’ She blushed as she realised how bad that sounded.
Joel Falcone frowned heavily. ‘Do you think that's wise? It could come as quite a shock to him to learn from someone else that his little girl is having a full-scale affair with someone like me. If he's as ill as you say he is then the knowledge can't be going to help him.'
‘Exactly,’ Farrah said dryly.
‘And it will be even worse coming from a stranger, or worse still, a newspaper. And how will your mother feel about it?'
It was a perfectly natural question in the circumstances, and yet Farrah felt a sharp pain at his casually spoken words. ‘My mother is dead,’ she said quietly. ‘And I hope you'll leave it to me to tell my father.'
‘I have no intention of seeing your father, when and how you tell him is up to you.’ He stopped the car before the block of flats where she lived with her father. ‘Can you be ready by eight-thirty?'
‘I should think so,’ she laughed lightly. ‘It's only four o'clock, it doesn't take me four and a half hours to get ready. What—what do you want me to wear?’ His steady gaze unnerving her and she fidgeted unnecessarily.
‘We'll be going to a nightclub, quite an exclusive one. Do you have anything suitable?'
‘Yes,’ she snapped, stung by his condescension. ‘Don't worry, I won't disgrace you.'
‘I've arranged for you to go to a salon tomorrow and choose a new wardrobe. That's the reason I told Angie you would be late in the morning.'
‘I don't want anything like that from you,’ she told him angrily. ‘I can buy my own clothes, thank you.'
‘I'm sure you can. Consider these part of your payment.'
‘I don't want anything from you,’ she repeated firmly. ‘Not your expensive presents or your clothes. Letting my father go free will be enough. And I can promise you that I'll pay as much of your money back as I can.'
‘Did you know your eyes flash in the most tantalising way when you're angry?’ he said huskily, ignoring her outrage and fiercely spoken words.
Farrah blushed fiery red. ‘Don't prevaricate,’ she said stiffly.
‘Is that what I was doing?'
‘You know you were. I mean it, Mr Falcone, I won't accept anything from you.'
He turned away from her. ‘Please yourself. I have an appointment in half an hour,’ he said pointedly.
‘I'm sorry!’ She looked at him nervously. ‘You'll be back at eight-thirty?'
‘Yes. And as you don't want me to meet your father you'd better come down here.'
‘Very well.'
Farrah hesitated about going up to the flat just yet; her father wouldn't be expecting her home for at least another hour and he would obviously wonder why she was home so early. She could hardly tell him that Joel Falcone had brought her. No, that wouldn't do at all.
She walked back in the direction of the town. She had her cheque book with her, and although she had told Joel Falcone that she had a suitable dress, she didn't really. It had been a show of bravado on her part and even though the sort of gown he would expect his companion to wear would make a great hole in her savings she had no intention of letting him see her in anything but the best.
The gowns she looked at were very beautiful, and very expensive, and she tried on several before making her final choice. It had to be something sophisticated, but not too old for her, and the black gown seemed to fit both those requirements. It was what she would call slinky, clinging in all the right places and yet retaining an air of mystery. The thin satin shoulder straps did not allow for a bra, but as she had never had any qualms about the suppleness of her body this didn't concern her too much. The low neckline made the dark curve of her breasts just visible, but the bareness of her throat alleviated the darkness of the dress.
It had just gone five when she entered the flat and her father was just in the middle of making a cup of tea. He smiled at her as she sat down tiredly in an armchair. ‘Been shopping?’ he indicated the bag in the chair beside her.
‘A new dress,’ she explained.
‘You're going out tonight, then?’ he asked interestedly.
‘Yes. You're going over to see Uncle Ben, aren't you?'
‘Mmm, we'll probably sink a few jars at the local and talk ourselves silly like we usually do.'
‘You know you enjoy yourself,’ she smiled.
‘Farrah, I don't want to seem too inquisitive, but did you talk to Joel Falcone today?'
‘He spoke to me,’ she corrected. ‘I'm sorry, I should have told you earlier.’ So much had happened since she left home this morning that she had completely forgotten her father's anguish. ‘Joel Falcone has agreed to drop the charges.'
‘Oh, that's wonderful!’ exclaimed her father. ‘At what price?’ he asked shrewdly.
Farrah evaded her father's questing look. ‘No price, Daddy.'
‘No price! But I—– He must have a reason for this, Farrah! Unless you told him about your mother—–'
‘No!’ she denied sharply. ‘I didn't tell him anything.'
‘Then I don't understand,’ he shook his head.
Farrah shrugged, standing up impatiently. ‘Perhaps I just caught him in a good mood, Daddy. Everything should be sorted out within the next few days.'
‘Did he say anything about my job?'
‘No, he didn't! But I should think you'll be sacked, don't you?’ she said shrilly. ‘It was a silly thing to do and it'll probably ruin the rest of your life.’ And mine, she groaned inwardly. ‘Mummy wouldn't have wanted you to do it and you know it. I know it was for her, Daddy, but she would hate to know what trouble you've brought upon yourself.'
‘Your mother always had second best, Farrah, she didn't deserve to die that way too.'
This was an old argument and one Farrah always lost. She had loved her mother too, and if she had died believing the money for her private nursing came from an insurance policy then perhaps it was all to the good. ‘I could have left work and nursed her, Daddy. You know I wanted to.'
‘She didn't want that. You're young, Farrah, nursing your mother would have cut you off from your friends, denied you a proper social life. Your mother wanted you to enjoy your youth.'
‘And I have, Daddy, but this threat over our heads is worse than any hardship I might have had nursing Mummy. I loved her too, you know!'
Her father put a comforting arm about her shoulders. ‘It was better this way, poppet. Your mother died having had all the medical and nursing care there was available. The trip to Switzerland was the most expensive, but I had to make sure the English doctors were right when they said there was no hope.'
‘But company money, Daddy!'
‘I know,’ he said wearily. ‘I know it was wrong. I still have a couple of thousand of it, Farrah, I can give that back,’ he added almost eagerly.
‘A couple of thousand! That won't even dent the twenty-five thousand. He's a powerful man, Daddy, you should have known better than to try and trick him.'
‘I wasn't tricking him personally, only the company.'
‘He is the company.'
‘You're a good child, Farrah, but if I had the same odds against me again I would have to act the same way. I'd have to, do you understand?'
Farrah hugged her father tightly, blinking away her tears as she looked at him. ‘I understand, Daddy, but it doesn't make things any easier. I still have to work there and people ask me how you are every day. I never know what to say. They all want to know when you'll be well enough to go back to work.'
‘I know it's hard for you, Farrah, but you could always leave. You have the experience behind you now, you could easily get a job with another company.'
She shook her head. ‘I don't think so, Daddy.’ Joel Falcone wouldn't allow it, for one thing. This way he had easy access to her, and also to cause a stir among his own numerous staff. No, the time to change her job would be when all this was over, that would be when she needed her privacy the most. During the next few months she was going to be known as Joel Falcone's new woman, and the reason for the abrupt end of his friendship with Laura Bennett. God, what a mess!

CHAPTER THREE (#ud052c911-1e2f-51e3-9fff-f28e85b07ac7)
‘HAVING second thoughts?'
Farrah didn't pretend not to know what he meant, grimacing her uncertainty. ‘And third and fourth ones too,’ she acknowledged. ‘But every time the answer comes out the same.'
Her apprehension had started the minute she stepped into his car this evening. His pure sophistication in white suit and black shirt had unsettled her and once again reminded her of his importance. Joel Falcone was a man who had worked himself up from a back-street child to a smooth polished man with an intelligence that baffled many a rival. But this nightclub had made her withdraw even more into her shell of shyness. There were so many celebrities here that she felt completely overwhelmed. And Joel Falcone seemed completely at home among them!
They were seated in a secluded corner, the reddish glow of the room surrounding them in a warm intimacy that was utterly deceiving. Couples were dancing in uninhibited abandon on the floor space provided, and Farrah felt less self-conscious about her revealed curves in the clinging dress after looking at some of the more exotic gowns being worn here.
The service was excellent and unobtrusive—and must surely be costing a small fortune in itself. This certainly wasn't the sort of place she would have chosen to come to, but she realised Joel Falcone must like this sort of atmosphere. He certainly seemed more relaxed, a faint mocking smile never far from those curved sensuous lips.
‘Joel! Darling!’ A tall girl, with long almost waist-length auburn hair, rushed to Joel's side, embracing him effusively as he stood up politely. ‘Where have you been all evening?’ she purred seductively.
Joel Falcone seemed to be withstanding this onslaught remarkably well, and instead of repulsing this girl's caresses he was actually encouraging her, returning the pressure of her lips with equal fervour. ‘Mmm,’ he sighed huskily. ‘You look good, Candida. As to where I've been, I've been sitting here all evening.'
The girl Candida grasped his arm possessively. ‘In that case, why haven't you joined the rest of us like you usually do?'
His arm was draped around her waist, his hand resting firmly on her hip. ‘I've—um—I've been otherwise engaged.’ He looked pointedly at Farrah.
Farrah found it difficult to meet the hostile gaze of the other girl, but nevertheless she managed to do so. Glacial blue eyes raked over her, a slight sneer to the girl's heavily painted lips. ‘But darling—–’ she began scathingly.
Joel put out a hand and pulled Farrah to her feet, his hold leaving the beautiful Candida and now encircling Farrah's slim waist. ‘Farrah, honey, come and meet Candida.'
The two girls looked at each other with dislike and finally it was Candida's gaze that dropped and fell away. Farrah wasn't particularly bothered about the other girl's dislike of her, but she did think that Joel Falcone should have acted less familiarly with her. After all, if she really had loved him and he her then she wouldn't have been able to meekly sit back and witness such behaviour.
‘Hello,’ Candida said huskily.
‘Good evening,’ Farrah replied formally.
She felt Joel Falcone's arm tighten painfully on her waist and the smile on his lips for her didn't reach the darkness of his eyes, deep unfathomable eyes that gave away nothing of his thoughts. ‘Candida is an old friend, my love,’ he chided gently.
So the act had begun! She had to force herself not to cringe away from such a false endearment. ‘Really?’ she looked at him steadily.
Candida's eyes had narrowed at Joel's protective air and murmured endearment. She pouted at him. ‘I thought I was more than a friend, Joel.'
He laughed at her exaggerated air of hurt. ‘Don't try to cause trouble, Candy. Farrah doesn't understand your warped sense of humour. And I won't have her hurt.'
The redhead looked away. ‘I see,’ she said quietly. ‘Are you going to join us?'
‘I'm not sure.’ He looked at Farrah. ‘Honey?'
She shied away from such a suggestion, unwilling to meet more of his friends if they resented her as much as the girl did. ‘I—I don't—–'
Joel didn't wait for the rest of her answer. He shook his head to Candy. ‘I don't think so. Not tonight.'
The beautiful redhead gave it one last reckless shot. ‘Is Laura coming here tonight?’ she asked casually.
She realised her mistake as Joel's eyes became icily cold. ‘I wouldn't know,’ he said shortly. ‘Laura and I no longer discuss our personal social engagements, as you very well know.'
Candida was instantly contrite. ‘I'm sorry, Joel, I didn't mean—–'
‘I know very well what you meant, Candy, and it wasn't anything polite. Now if you'll excuse us I think I'll take Farrah into the other room and do what passes for dancing in this place.'
Farrah followed him wordlessly, pulled along by his hold on her hand. She didn't have time to say goodbye to the other girl, but she didn't think it really mattered, as Joel had said, Candida did not have politeness on her mind. The poor girl had been positively green with jealousy. Farrah shook off all thoughts of the beautiful Candida, at the moment she had something more pressing to think about. She had seen what Joel said they called dancing when they came into the club, and to her it looked more like making love to music!
‘Relax,’ Joel murmured in her ear, bending down as they danced so that his face was buried in her creamy throat. ‘Try to look suitably ecstatic.'
Farrah was much too aware of his hard lithe body pressed close to her own to look anything else but terrified. She had never danced this close to a man before and each muscle and sinew was firmly outlined against her own trembling body. ‘How can I?’ she asked tautly. ‘When you terrify the life out of me.'
Joel moved his head up and away from her. ‘I do, Farrah Halliday? And how do I do that?'
She looked away from him crossly. ‘You mock me.'
‘I mock everyone, child,’ he said with some humour. ‘Including myself.'
‘But why are you so cynical?'
He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I have no idea. Unless you count boredom as a reason.'
‘Boredom!’ Farrah was frankly astounded. ‘But you have so much.'
Joel's mouth twisted. ‘So everyone keeps telling me.'
Farrah wished they could sit down again, the movement of his body on hers was so blatantly sensual that she felt like part of the man himself. And yet they would have looked strange dancing any other way, everyone seemed to be moving with the same closeness. ‘Could we—–’ she cleared her throat. ‘Could we sit down again, please?'
‘Sure,’ his eyes mocked her silently as he saw her seated before sliding on to the bench seat beside her, his thigh brushing hers. ‘You don't like to dance?’ He watched her over the rim of his glass.
‘Yes, I like to dance,’ she said tartly. ‘But I wouldn't call that dancing.'
‘Just what would you call it?'
‘Making love to music?'
She heard him give a deep throaty chuckle and watched as his teeth flashed whitely and his blue eyes crinkled with laughter. ‘An apt description,’ he toasted her with his glass. ‘So you're a prude, Farrah Halliday.'
‘I am not! I just think that sort of thing should be done in private.'
‘What sort of thing?’ He watched the couples dancing for several seconds. ‘It's only body contact.'
Farrah wrinkled her nose delicately. ‘I didn't like it,’ she said firmly.
‘Strange, I found it rather—satisfying.'
Farrah knew he had intended embarrassing her, but she blushed anyway. ‘Then you're satisfied very easily,’ she retorted shortly.
‘Oh, but I'm not,’ he corrected her softly. ‘I'm very difficult to—please.'
She knew this was a double-edged conversation, and she also knew that Joel Falcone was enjoying her discomfiture immensely. ‘Tell me, Mr Falcone,’ she ignored his dark scowl at her formality, ‘why didn't you ask someone like your friend Candida to assist you with your little problem? She's obviously aware of the breakdown of your relationship with Miss Bennett.'
‘I should think all my friends are,’ he said grimly. ‘It's been on the cards for some time now.'
‘But what—what happened?’ Her eyes were like huge green pools of curiosity.
Joel sighed. ‘I suppose you have a right to know. Now I may not be the epitome of the perfect male and Laura and I have never been very faithful, each of us having other casual friendships. But I draw the line at having her burst into my apartment just as I was—–’ he broke off. ‘Making love, you would call it,’ he looked grim. ‘With another woman.'
‘But you told me that you—that you and she still—–'
‘Oh, we do, on the odd occasion. Why not? I take Laura as I would take a shower, not a necessity but pleasant on the right occasion. And as for using Candida, I have better sense. I don't intend to gain my freedom from one scheming woman just to get caught in another trap equally disastrous. Believe me, Candida would demand more from me than you do, both physically and in other ways. And I'm not willing to answer to any woman for my actions.'
‘I see.'
‘Stop looking so disapproving, Farrah,’ he chuckled huskily. ‘And for God's sake relax! Don't you ever smile?'
‘Sometimes. I haven't had much to smile about lately.'
‘Look, I'm not going to hurt you. This is all pretence, and it won't last very long.'
‘Just long enough for me to be known publicly as your new woman.'
‘It may not come to that, Laura and I may be able to settle this privately.'
Farrah looked at him eagerly. ‘Could you do that?'
‘Maybe,’ he said non-committally.
‘Oh, Joel, I'd—–’ she broke off.
He grinned at her. ‘Carry on, Farrah, it would be a pity to spoil your effort.'
She looked at him shyly. ‘It wasn't such an effort,’ she admitted.
Blue eyes narrowed, but he still smiled. ‘All the more reason,’ he said huskily. ‘Just try and forget our reason for being here. I think that our mission has been accomplished. Candy and her friends have been giving us speculative looks for the past hour or more, and since talking to us I should think Candy has told them all who you are. Don't worry, Laura should know within the next day or so that we were seen together.'
‘But would it matter to her? You've already admitted that you both occasionally see other people.'
‘That's why I told you it would take a couple of months to convince her, my girl-friends don't usually last that long.'
‘Tell me, Mr—Joel, have you ever been in love?'
‘No. It's a luxury that has never been granted me. You've grown very curious, Farrah Halliday. Why the sudden interest?'
Farrah sipped her Martini and lemonade before answering him. ‘If I have to spend time with you I may as well make conversation. Most people enjoy talking about themselves.'
‘I don't.’ He bent forward, effectively cutting off the rest of the room from her vision. ‘I would far rather talk about you. Are you as innocent as you look?'
‘You've said that once before. I can't help the way I look.'
‘Does that mean that the answer is no?'
‘No, it doesn't! If by innocent you mean do I sleep around, then the answer is no. So that makes me innocent in your eyes. I've never gone in for casual love or lovemaking.'
‘Does that mean you're a virgin?'
‘It's none of your business! I—–'
‘Does it?’ he repeated sharply.
‘I can't—– It—– Oh yes! Yes, it does! Are you satisfied now?'
‘No. I'm interested, very interested. Do you have boyfriends, Farrah? Of course you do,’ he answered his own question. ‘Someone called Nigel wasn't it, and I presume there have been others. And yet none of them have wanted to make love to you.'
Farrah gasped. ‘I didn't say that!'
‘So they have wanted to make love to you. And you've said no. Why was that, Farrah, are you holding out for marriage? Are you thinking of how privileged that man will feel when you go into your marriage bed pure and untouched?'
There was no mistaking the sneer in his voice and Farrah bridled angrily. ‘Like I said, you mock everything.’ She shifted away from him and breathed more easily when no longer made quite so much aware of his physical attractiveness. For a few minutes he had held her attention like a magnet, and she was made all too much aware of how easy it was to fall for his charm when he chose to exert it. And she wouldn't give him that satisfaction.
His hand moved to cover her own as it rested on the table, holding her even tighter as her first instinct was to snatch her hand away. ‘Careful,’ he warned. ‘Don't spoil it all now. You've managed very well so far.'
‘Thank you very much, sir! How kind you are!'
Her anger made him smile. ‘Your eyes are flashing again.'
Farrah blushed. ‘Leave my eyes out of it!'
Joel shook his head. ‘Impossible. They're really quite beautiful. Are those dark lashes natural?'
‘You're prevaricating again.’ She was unable to meet his eyes.
‘Not me, honey, you're the one doing that. I asked you a perfectly normal—–'
‘Normal! Nothing about our whole relationship is normal! Can we go home now?'
‘Yours or mine?’ he taunted.
‘You to yours, and me to mine,’ she said ungrammatically.
Joel picked up her hand, studying the palely painted nails and her slim tapered fingers. ‘There ought to be a ring on this hand,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘A huge emerald to match your eyes. Has no one ever offered?'
‘I'll only marry for love. Now can we go home?’ she repeated stubbornly.
‘It's early,’ he replied vaguely, still looking at her hand as it rested in his own much larger one. He looked at his watch. ‘It's only eleven o'clock, much too early to leave. I rarely leave before two in the morning.'
Farrah felt a sense of dread. Another three hours with him. In this mood he was far too dangerous for her peace of mind. In a short time they had become much too intimate for Farrah's liking. Joel seemed to be amusing himself with her and he was being deliberately charming. The trouble was her traitorous body was falling for it. Each time he gave her that dark brooding look she trembled with anticipation, of what she wasn't sure.
‘If we leave now your friends will naturally assume we're going to your apartment to—to—–'
‘Make love,’ he drawled. ‘That seems to be the topic of the evening. And I can quite as well make love at two in the morning as I can now.'
Farrah blushed. ‘You're embarrassing me,’ she shook her head. ‘I've never spoken about such things to anyone before, let alone a man I only met for the first time yesterday. Are you always so—so basic?'
He let go of her hand, sitting back to light up a cheroot with his gold initialled lighter. ‘No, I enjoy shocking you. Does that surprise you?'
‘I suppose not. My naïveté must be very amusing,’ she said dejectedly.
Joel was surrounded by thick smoke, his expression unreadable. ‘Nothing about you amuses me,’ he said harshly. ‘On the contrary. It's a long time since I met anyone as fresh and young as you undoubtedly are. It's quite a novelty.'
‘There are plenty of girls like me about. We hardly even know the sort of world you live in exists.'
‘So you're going to settle for a respectable young man with a semi in the country and the estimated 2.4 children,’ he mocked her. ‘Or are you going to try and find yourself a rich husband?'
‘Neither. All I want is a man I can love with all my heart. You're so cynical, but one day you'll find someone to love. I only hope you recognise the emotion for what it is.'
‘I know desire and I know indifference, and that's enough for me. I don't need anything as complicated as love in my life. Now if you're ready to leave?'
‘Oh, I'm ready. There's just one thing, Mr—Joel. My father is only forty-five, he has at least another twenty years left to work. I realise you can't give him too good a reference, but if you could just not give him a bad one? He wouldn't do anything like this again, I promise you.'
‘I'm not giving him a reference at all—–'
‘Oh, but—–'
‘I haven't sacked him, Farrah. He can come back to work any time he likes.'
Farrah looked at him sharply. ‘But he—I—– Do you mean it?'
‘Sure. Your father made a mistake, a mistake not too many people know about, and I think he's paid for it. But he'll be watched,’ he warned her. ‘Security advised me to sack him, so they'll be keeping an eye on him. No one else in the company is aware of his—borrowing, so he shouldn't find it too difficult to return.'
‘You really mean it?’ She saw his faint nod, and sighed with relief. ‘Oh, Joel, I could kiss you!'
‘Don't let me stop you.’ He watched her below hooded lids.
She blushed and gave him a shy smile, unable to hold back the bubbly laughter she felt in her happiness. ‘Oh, Joel, this is marvellous! It's such a relief. Daddy's been so worried. So have I for that matter.'
‘I gather the kiss isn't going to be forthcoming? I thought not,’ he took in her flushed cheeks. ‘That's the first time I've seen you laugh.'
‘It's the first time I've really felt happy for weeks.'
Joel looked at his watch again. ‘Nearly twelve. I guess we can go now.'
They had to walk past the table at which his friends were seated and it was only polite that he stop to say a few words. Farrah was aware of being thoroughly appraised by men and women alike and it was only Joel's grip on her waist that stopped her running. There were six men and an equal number of women at the table, although none of them actually seemed to be in couples.
‘Unsociable tonight, weren't you, Joel?’ remarked a tall blond man.
Joel grinned at him. ‘Farrah's worth being unsociable for,’ he said smoothly.
There was a knowing gleam in the other man's eyes. ‘Trust you to come up with someone new and beautiful. Where are you going now?'
‘Farrah has a headache,’ he explained. He turned to look at her pale face, bending suddenly to kiss her parted lips. Farrah was taken completely by surprise and responded without thinking. She registered firm caressing lips on her own before they were slowly removed. Joel's blue eyes shone down at her in challenge, and to her shame she was the first to look away. He turned back to his friends. ‘I'm taking her home now. We'll join you another time.’ And with a casual goodbye they left the nightclub.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/carole-mortimer/only-lover/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.