An Unwilling Desire
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…Resisting her attraction to her boss’s brother…Holly is distraught when she’s accused of breaking up her boss’s marriage. She can’t suffer being the cause of another divorce—Holly still feels unwittingly responsible for the breakdown of her mother’s marriage. Now it seems the only way to prove her innocence is to date Zack Benedict—her boss’s brother!Only soon there’s a problem with Zack’s plan to make his brother jealous…when their desire goes from fantasy to reality…!
An Unwilling Desire
Carole Mortimer
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#u81024e2f-664f-5bec-bae0-9beb6b2adf70)
Title Page (#u310ac40b-f56e-5511-b0c4-070d089c3fd0)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_12772bbd-f0a3-5e82-8a95-23972dd3e0d6)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_65ee5a85-32bd-51ab-88cc-8d76b41a268b)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_78a0e809-8a83-54c8-b395-419ba7a8f1d6)
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)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_73c7bb91-ec25-5a9a-9a28-07e8db19ff77)
‘… and I hope you continue to read and enjoy my books. You know the rest, Holly,’ James dismissed with an abruptness that showed he was fast losing interest in the mail they were in the process of answering.
She looked up from her shorthand pad, frowning as she saw James was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. Her employer had seemed distracted all morning, hardly able to concentrate on the mail he usually took such time and care over.
‘James?’ she had to prompt softly, not sure if he wanted to finish now or continue; she had never seen him in quite this mood before.
He looked up at her, smiling slowly, as if her short red hair and small heart-shaped face dominated by huge violet eyes afforded him some comfort in whatever was tormenting him. ‘Where was I?’ he asked vaguely.
Her brows rose at this uncharacteristic loss of concentration, the same red as her hair, her lashes long and tipped with gold. ‘You'd just finished thanking Mrs Smythe of Kent for her kind words of praise on your last book,’ she reminded him gently, her concern intense for the man who had been kind to her from the first day she came to work for him three months ago.
‘Oh yes,’ he ran a hand through the dark blond of his hair, his hazel-coloured eyes half closed as if in pain. ‘Could we stop now?’ he sighed. ‘I—I have a headache.’
‘Of course.’ She instantly closed her shorthand pad, moving with a quiet grace to pick up the two separate piles of letters from the table, one she had replies to and one she didn't. ‘I have enough to be going on with,’ she smiled reassuringly.
‘I didn't realise I had so many fans.’ He leant back weakly in his chair, his eyes completely closed now, a weary droop to his mouth.
Holly's heart went out to him and she wished there were something she could do to ease the strain he seemed to be under, some way she could help ease his stress. She liked this man, had taken an instant liking to him when he had interviewed her for the job as his secretary, and could only admire the way he got on with his life despite the disability of the wheelchair he spent the majority of his time in, the result of a serious car accident two years ago.
James was a big man, powerfully built and firmly muscled despite his disability, the pain of the last two years etched into his face and adding to his thirty-six years. He had the sort of fair hair that bleached white and gold in the sun, and it was like that now from the afternoons he spent working in the garden, his eyes taking on the blue-green of the sea that he viewed from his Hampshire home.
Yes, she liked this man, she liked him a lot, and she knew something was troubling him deeply. She hesitated at the door, not wanting to leave him like this. ‘Is it just a headache, James?’ she probed softly.
He sighed, opening his eyes again as he sat forward. ‘No,’ he admitted heavily. ‘You might as well know, Maxine is coming back here this afternoon.’
Holly kept her expression bland with effort. Maxine Benedict, James's wife for the last five years, was a woman of thirty, having maintained her slender figure from her years spent as a model. In the last three months since Holly had been in residence as James's secretary the other woman had only spent a matter of weeks at home, this last trip to London being the longest so far, three weeks in duration. And now it seemed she was returning for another few disruptive days, would upset the even tenor of James's working days, and then leave him moody and withdrawn, unable to work, when she left again.
‘That will be nice,’ she said brightly, hoping James couldn't hear the lack of any real enthusiasm in her voice.
‘Will it?’ he returned bitterly.
‘Of course it will,’ she insisted briskly.
His mouth twisted. ‘It's been so restful. I've been—comfortable, here with you the last few weeks, Holly. Almost at peace.’
She flushed her pleasure at his feeling the same way she had about his wife's latest absence, turning away shyly from the warmth in his eyes. She didn't welcome Maxine's return either. Beautiful and sophisticated Maxine Benedict made her feel ill at ease, and she suspected how the other woman spent her time during these frequent trips to London. She had a feeling James did too, although he never actually said anything about it.
‘Oh, Holly, sometimes I wish—Never mind,’ he dismissed harshly. ‘Could you get those letters typed and back to me as soon as possible. I doubt I'll get much work done once Maxine is back,’ he added ruefully.
Holly doubted it to. When Maxine was at home James's work schedule, and consequently Holly's own, went out of the window. Maxine was a woman of impulse, often deciding she wanted to do something or go out on the spur of the moment, and insisting that James accompany her.
Holly made her way to her own office at the back of this rambling house, well away from James's study so that her typewriter wouldn't disturb him while he wrote. Once in the privacy of her own room she allowed her disappointment about Maxine's return to show, hating the idea of her routine being disturbed. She liked order in her life, disliked impulsive action of any kind. The next few days, at least, looked like being very disrupted.
James Benedict was a famous author of thrillers, the storyline often having something to do with racing cars, his old profession, the profession that had put him in the wheelchair. He had first begun to write during the long months he had spent in hospital recovering from the accident, and had been lucky—or talented enough—to have his first book accepted while still confined to his bed. A second, third, and fourth book had been equally well received, being fresh and exciting, and always original. The mail that flooded in to him every day proved just how popular with the public his books were.
Holly had been delighted when she secured the position as his secretary, thrilled when he asked her to assist him with his research too. It was all a welcome change and challenge from the run-of-the-mill office jobs she had been doing for the last four years, liking the fact that she actually lived at the house, finding it no hardship to give up the last in a long line of flats she had occupied during the last few years of living on her own. It also meant she was on call if James should need her, and the two of them often spent their evenings working too, something she enjoyed.
But the thought of Maxine Benedict's return was enough to spoil the day for her. Maxine was everything she despised in a woman, flirtatious, too beautiful for any man to resist, and worse of all, Holly suspected, promiscuous. It was the latter she found so hard to forgive in the other woman, but she could think of no other reason for Maxine to spend so much time in London. Personally she had no idea of the full extent of James's injuries, although she thought it meant he couldn't play an active role in his marriage, which made Maxine's behaviour all the more abhorrent.
Holly deliberately made herself scarce in the house's vast library after lunch, attending to some of the research on South America that James needed for further chapters. It was a laborious task, but one that she enjoyed; no complaints were made by the public about even the finest detail in James's books—something she intended to continue.
She could hear the husky sound of Maxine's voice in the lounge as she passed the room on her way back to her office from the library, her precious notes and references clutched in her hand to show to James later.
She came to an abrupt halt as she entered her office, gasping as she saw the man standing across the room from her, his back turned towards her as he looked out of the window, the over-long golden hair so achingly familiar. But he was standing! ‘James …?’ she cried her disbelief. Surely James couldn't have been deceiving them all this time—–
The man turned slowly at the sound of her gasp, dispelling any doubts she might have had that it was James who stood there. Oh, the man's colouring was the same, so was the powerful physique, but there the similarity ended. Mocking green eyes steadily met her gaze, a long hawk-like nose jutting out arrogantly, the mouth strong and firm, quirking tauntingly as she continued to stare at him, his jaw square and determined. For all that his face showed lines of experience he still looked younger than James.
There was about the man an air of male challenge, an aura of sensuality that made Holly's defences instantly spring into action. Her mouth twisted contemptuously at the way his denims clung to him like a second skin, his shirt partly unbuttoned to reveal the darker blond hair on his chest, an obvious move on his part to draw attention to his virility as far as Holly was concerned. A man who believed in his own machismo!
She stepped past him to sit behind her desk, realising as she did so how tall he was when she only reached as far as his shoulders, her own height only just over five feet. She viewed him with cool violet eyes as he lounged against the side of her desk, her lashes darkened with mascara, that and a coral lipstick being her only make-up.
‘Obviously not,’ she dryly answered her own question, completely in control again now, over the shock she had received at first seeing him.
‘Obviously not,’ he echoed mockingly, looking down at her, his gaze openly speculative. ‘Not unless he's taken it into his head to get up and walk,’ he drawled. ‘And while he has people like you and his manservant fussing around him he isn't likely to do that, now is he?’ he mocked.
A hot tide of indignation welled up inside her. ‘How dare you say such a thing?’ she gasped, her eyes wide with accusation.
His smile widened, his teeth very white and even against his tanned skin. ‘Quite easily,’ he taunted without regret.
‘So I see,’ she snapped, pushing her notes into a drawer and locking it before glaring up at the man. ‘I don't know who you are—and to be perfectly truthful, I don't particularly care,’ she added insultingly. ‘But I find your mockery of a crippled man highly distasteful!’
‘James isn't crippled,’ his voice had hardened harshly. ‘Unless you count his mind.’
Her eyes widened even more at this attack on a man who wasn't even here to defend himself. ‘James has a wonderful mind,’ she told him heatedly. ‘As you would know if you've ever read any of his books!’
‘I've read them,’ the man confirmed scornfully.
‘Then you know he has a clever mind!’
The green eyes narrowed; the man's speculation was increasing. ‘Do you always defend James so—vehemently?’ he queried softly.
Holly flushed her resentment. ‘If I think he needs it, yes!’
‘And does he often—need it?’ the man taunted throatily, humour glinting in his eyes.
Holly glared her outrage at him for his implication. ‘If you're a friend of his—–’
‘I'm not,’ he stated flatly.
‘Not …?’ She looked at him uncertainly now, her eyes hardening with contempt as another reason for him being here occurred to her. ‘Then you must be a friend of Maxine's,’ she realised with sickening clarity.
Dark blond brows rose, his arms folded across the broadness of his chest, the red shirt he wore moulded to his powerful frame. ‘Must I?’ he taunted softly, mocking her unashamedly.
‘Aren't you?’ she challenged.
He seemed to consider for a moment. ‘I suppose I must be,’ he answered finally.
‘I see.’ Holly's contempt grew along with her anger. Not only did Maxine leave her husband to go to London for weeks at a time, but this time she had actually brought her current lover back with her. Couldn't she be content with hurting James at a distance!
‘Do you?’ The man watched the emotions flickering across her usually unreadable face. ‘I doubt it,’ he derided, shaking his head, the straightness of his golden hair growing well down over his collar and ears.
‘Oh, but I do,’ she contradicted with sarcasm. ‘Maxine arrived from London a short time ago; you arrived with her.’
‘And that tells you something, does it?’ he queried softly.
‘Yes!’
‘But you're wrong. I didn't come here with Maxine, I arrived just after her.’
‘Oh, she's given you your own car, has she?’ Holly sneered heatedly, surprised at her own vehemence now. Of course it was disgusting that this man should be here, that he should have such little respect for a man like James, but she had made it a rule never to involve herself in other people's lives and problems, knowing it could only lead to disaster.
The man's eyes glittered a fierce emerald green. ‘What a nasty mind you have, Holly Macey,’ he said grimly.
She frowned. ‘You know my name!’
‘Of course,’ he nodded abruptly. ‘I was sent to see if you would like to come and join us in the lounge.’
She turned away, shaking slightly from this scene with a man whose identity she didn't even know. ‘I still have some work to do before I finish for the day,’ she refused stiffly.
‘Don't you think you should come and defend James?’ he taunted.
She blushed, suddenly looking younger than her twenty-two years. ‘He doesn't need anyone to defend him,’ she said awkwardly. ‘He's perfectly capable of standing up for himself.’
‘But he isn't, is he?’ the man derided softly. ‘Capable of standing, I mean.’
She gasped, shocked at the way this man continued to mock James's disability. ‘That—that was a cruel and vicious thing to say!’ she choked.
‘Was it?’ he shrugged, standing up. ‘It's even crueller that he chooses to remain in that wheelchair day after day.’ His expression was harsh.
‘He can't walk!’
‘You're right, he can't.’
‘Then why mock him?’ she breathed raggedly.
‘Because I damn well refuse to pity him! He's a coward and a—–’
‘James is not a coward!’ Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides.
The man gave her a cold stare before walking to the door. ‘The day he gets out of that chair and walks will be the day I no longer think of him as one. The reason he's there, driving a car at high speed just for the thrill of it, is a damned stupid way to earn a living in the first place,’ he rasped.
‘You consider your way to be better, do you?’ Holly scorned.
His eyes narrowed. ‘My way?’
‘As Maxine's “friend”.’ Her mouth twisted with distaste.
‘At least I get job satisfaction!’
‘You're disgusting!’ she paled.
To her chagrin he began to laugh softly. ‘I'd be damned angry at the assumptions you've made about Maxine and me if I didn't find you so amusing. James only writes sexy thrillers, Holly, you don't have to believe them,’ he taunted. ‘And why do you have such a low opinion of Maxine?’ he sobered. ‘What has she ever done to you?’
‘Nothing,’ she answered stiffly.
Those deeply green eyes narrowed thoughtfully, his lashes ridiculously long for a man. ‘But you don't like her, do you?’ he probed curiously.
‘I've only been here three months, I hardly know her,’ she gave an evasive reply.
‘Maybe you should remember that, Miss Macey,’ he nodded grimly. ‘You don't know Maxine. And you don't know me either.’
‘I don't think I want to,’ she spoke her thoughts aloud, seeing by his smile that he found her candour amusing.
‘That's a pity,’ he drawled with enjoyment. ‘Because, like Maxine, I'm here to stay.’
‘For how long?’ Holly bit her lip, realising how rude she was being. After all, she was only an employee here, while he was an invited guest, for whatever reason. ‘I meant do you intend to be here long?’ she amended blushingly.
‘I know exactly what you meant,’ he drawled. ‘And at the moment I have no idea. Why, does my being here bother you?’
She avoided his piercing gaze. ‘It's really none of my business, is it?’
‘None at all,’ he replied smoothly. ‘I'm looking forward to meeting you again at dinner, Holly Macey.’ He left the room, whistling to himself as he went back to the lounge.
Holly realised she was shaking, giving up all pretence of working now she was alone. What a rude, insufferable man! His contempt for James had been nothing less than cruel, almost as if he thought it all James's own fault that he was confined to a wheelchair. And his affair with Maxine, right here at the house, was a disgrace.
She had never met anyone quite like him before. He didn't seem to take anything seriously, not even James's lack of mobility. He was a man who didn't seem to give a damn about anything. She disliked him as much as she disliked Maxine, and the thought of having to sit down to dinner with the pair of them made her want to eat in her room. But she knew she couldn't do that to James, he didn't deserve to have to face them alone then too.
She dressed with more than her usual care that evening, aware that it would no longer be just James and herself enjoying a companionable meal together. Maxine always dressed perfectly, with her figure it was hard not to, and Holly had a feeling Maxine's friend wouldn't be casually dressed either.
James's man Robert would make sure he was suitably well dressed. When she had first realised James had someone to help him out with the more mundane tasks like bathing and dressing she had wondered how he coped with the intrusion into his life, and yet Robert was one of those men who faded into the background when he wasn't needed, curiously always there when he was. The fact that Maxine resented his presence in the house at all didn't seem to bother either man, and as the married couple had separate bedrooms the meetings between the wife and manservant were kept to a minimum. Much as James loved Maxine, Holly wondered which would be the one to go, Maxine or Robert, if it ever came to a confrontation.
The dress Holly chose for dinner was the classic black, high-necked, long-sleeved, flowing loosely from the bust to just below her knees, her legs slender above the black sandals. Her make-up was still light, a pale lipstick, and yet her eyes remained her main feature, a darkening mascara showing the length and thickness of her lashes. Her hair was short and boyishly styled, newly washed, gleaming brightly auburn. Her lack of height prevented her having Maxine Benedict's air of sophistication, but all the same she knew she didn't look unattractive. Besides, who would notice her with Maxine about! It was enough that she felt confident about her appearance.
The lounge was empty when she walked in at seven-thirty, so she moved to the vast array of drinks on the sideboard to pour herself a small glass of sherry as James had invited her to do in the past if she should get down before him, turning back with the glass in her hand to find Maxine's friend standing in the doorway, a cynical twist to his lips. As she had thought, he had dressed for the part, in a white dinner jacket and white silk shirt, a black bow-tie and black fitted trousers, his blond hair brushed casually back from his face.
Holly stood her ground with effort as he came into the room, flushing almost guiltily as his gaze remained fixed on the drink in her hand.
‘A secret drinker, hmm?’ he taunted.
‘Not at all—–’
His soft laugh interrupted her. ‘Are you always so quick to jump to the bait?’ he mused. ‘If you are, I'm going to enjoy my stay here this time.’
Her eyes widened at the implication behind these words. ‘You've been here before?’
His mouth twisted. ‘Many times.’
She should have realised that by the confident way he moved about the house. ‘You haven't been here for the last three months,’ she said stiffly.
‘Not since you've been here, no,’ he acknowleged derisively. ‘Maybe if I'd known what a fiery secretary James had engaged I might have done.’
‘I'm not fiery—–’ Holly banked down her anger. ‘At least, not usually,’ she mumbled.
‘Do I take that as a compliment?’ He moved closer to her to pour himself a large whisky.
‘No!’ Holly snapped.
‘I thought not,’ he said dryly. ‘So you don't usually lose that delightful little temper of yours,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘What is it about me, do you think, that triggers off this rarely used temper?’
‘You're insufferable!’ she glared at him.
‘Besides that,’ he dismissed uninterestedly.
‘Isn't that enough?’
He shrugged. ‘I wouldn't have thought so. You disliked me on sight.’
‘I'm sure many women find you very attractive,’ Holly derided at his chagrined expression at the realisation. ‘I just find you obnoxious.’
‘Mm, novel, isn't it?’ He appeared clinically interested by the fact.
She gave him an exasperated look. ‘Don't you ever take anything seriously?’
‘Life's too short for that. And I don't consider you dislike of me to be serious.’
‘You conceited—–’
‘Not conceited, Holly,’ he disagreed softly. ‘I'm just intrigued by the fact that almost everything I say and do brings a heated reaction from you. James was singing your praises when I went back to the lounge this afternoon; I couldn't believe the cool competent young lady he was describing was the same one I'd just met. You may be competent, in fact that determined little chin tells me you are, but you certainly aren't cool. I was wondering what it was about me that brings about this Jekyll and Hyde change in character.’
‘I told you, I find you insufferable.’
‘And I told you it isn't enough.’ He studied her through narrowed green eyes. ‘Maybe it's my similarity to James you dislike. You defend him like a cat defending its kitten. I wonder—–’
‘Would you please pour me another sherry?’ she requested stiffly.
He took the glass she held out, his eyes mocking as he refilled it. ‘I thought you weren't a secret drinker?’
‘I'm not!’
He looked pointedly at the second sherry which she had almost consumed. ‘I hope that isn't on a completely empty stomach. Which way do you go when you're drunk, happy or sad?’
Holly paled at the taunt, slamming the glass down on the table, spilling some of its contents on the polished surface. ‘I have never been drunk,’ she told him tautly. ‘Never!’
His eyes widened at her unwarranted vehemence. ‘Holly—–’
‘Ah, Zack darling!’ Maxine Benedict floated into the room, her black hair brushed in casual waves to her shoulders, her make-up perfect, the black dress she wore clinging suggestively to her model-thin figure. The contrast, in the style and wearer of the two black gowns, had the effect of making Holly's look nun-like! ‘Pour me a drink, darling, you know what I like. Hello, Holly,’ she greeted with her usual friendliness. ‘What happened to you this afternoon?’
Holly gave the other woman a startled look, glancing briefly at the man she now knew was called Zack. His deliberately bland expression didn't help her at all! ‘Happened?’ she enquired abruptly, wondering what on earth reason the man Zack had given for her not joining them this afternoon.
Maxine accepted her drink with a warm smile before once more looking at Holly. ‘Zack came to look for you. James was quite worried when he came back and said he couldn't find you,’ she added derisively.
‘I—er—–’ Holly gave Zack an angry glare, receiving only a mocking smile in return. ‘I was in the library.’
‘What a pity I didn't think to look there,’ drawled Zack. ‘I'd been looking forward to meeting you.’
‘Really?’ she answered coldly.
‘Stop teasing her, Zack,’ Maxine cut in irritably. ‘What on earth can be keeping James?’ she added impatiently. ‘Probably Robert can't decide which tie he's to wear.’
Holly's mouth tightened resentfully at the derision Maxine didn't even try to hide. She didn't know why the other woman came home at all if she was going to act like this. ‘Maybe he would have welcomed your opinion,’ she defended icily.
‘He has only to ask,’ Maxine told her in a bored voice.
That was the trouble, James would never ask his wife for anything, not her time, and certainly not her love. Couldn't Maxine see that? Or did she just not care? If only—–
‘Are your eyes really violet, Holly?’ Zack asked irrelevantly.
She gave him a puzzled frown. ‘So I've been told.’
‘Really, Zack,’ Maxine snapped tautly, ‘the colour of Holly's eyes is of little interest.’
‘Not to me,’ he drawled. ‘I've never met a girl who has violet eyes, I've only ever seen Elizabeth Taylor's in films.’
‘Holly bears little resemblance to Elizabeth Taylor,’ the other woman derided, her movements nervy as she kept glancing expectantly towards the door.
Zack gave Holly a long look of consideration. ‘No, she's more like a red-haired Audrey Hepburn, all eyes.’
‘Brings out the protective instinct in you, does she, darling?’ Maxine's voice had hardened to scorn.
‘A little,’ he nodded. ‘Maybe you should go up and see what's keeping James, Maxine,’ he suggested softly. ‘It's almost eight o'clock.’
Holly was becoming concerned with James's nonappearance herself, although she was more than a little surprised to see Maxine actually leave the room as Zack had told her to do.
‘You can close your mouth now,’ he drawled with amusement once they were alone.
Her mouth closed with a snap. This man gave the impression of making life a game, and yet he missed none of the emotions or movements of those about him.
‘And maybe in future,’ he added, dangerously soft, ‘you should keep your opinions concerning Maxine and James to yourself.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ she gasped.
‘You heard me.’ The lazy humour had completely gone from his face and voice now, revealing a more steely side to his character. ‘They have enough problems already, without a third person adding to them,’ he warned.
‘If anyone is an unwanted third person here it isn't me,’ she snapped. ‘You—–’ she broke off as she heard the descent of the lift from the bedrooms to the ground floor, a necessity with James's wheelchair, and turned away as the other couple entered the room a few seconds later.
James looked tired, more tired and strained than she had ever seen him. Her anger towards the other couple grew. How dared this man Zack tell her not to interfere when he and Maxine were the ones hurting James!
‘Holly, my dear,’ James greeted her with a smile. ‘Maxine tells me you were in the library all the time this afternoon.’
She hated deceiving this man, and yet about this she had little choice. ‘Er—yes, for a while.’
‘But you and Zack have been introduced now?’
‘Well …’
‘There hasn't really been the time or opportunity,’ Zack answered him.
James frowned. ‘Maxine, didn't you—–’
‘Of course not,’ his wife cut in sharply. ‘The two of them were together when I came downstairs, I naturally assumed Zack had introduced himself. He isn't usually so backward in coming forward.’
‘What must you think of our manners, Holly!’ James said irritably. ‘This is my brother Zack. Zack, my secretary, Holly Macey.’
His brother! That was the only part of the introduction that registered with Holly. This man Zack, the man she had been consistently rude to, was James's brother. No wonder she had confused the two of them at first glance, the family resemblance was such as to have easily made that mistake. But how could Zack Benedict have such contempt for his own brother, talk so scathingly about him getting up and walking?
‘Mr Benedict,’ she nodded abrupt acknowledgment of him.
‘Zack,’ he corrected smoothly. ‘Or Zachary, if you prefer. But never Mr Benedict, Holly, Surely you're used to the informality here by now?’
Holly flushed her resentment as he very effectively reminded her that she was the outsider here, but she was restricted from answering him as she would have liked because of the other couple. Zack Benedict had deliberately encouraged her to believe her mistaken assumption of the reason he was here, was even now enjoying her discomfort, a taunting smile to his lips. But was she so wrong about his relationship with Maxine? Just because the two men were brothers that didn't preclude such a relationship between Maxine and Zack, in fact it could increase the possibility, the two men were enough alike to encourage Maxine to transfer her attention to the mobile brother.
She looked up to find Zack Benedict's eyes narrowed on her, as hard as emeralds as he seemed to guess her thoughts. Her head went back in challenge. ‘Zack,’ she repeated softly.
‘Well, now that's settled,’ Maxine put in waspishly, ‘could we go in to dinner? It's hours since Zack and I ate in London.’
‘But it was a delicious meal,’ Zack smiled, grooves etched either side of his mouth. ‘You have such a good cook.’
‘Yes, I do, don't I?’ Maxine purred at the compliment, smiling naturally for the first time that evening. ‘You remember Abigail, James?’
‘Of course I remember her,’ he snapped his bad humour. ‘I hired her!’
His wife flushed. ‘It's been so long since you visited the flat in London that I—–’
‘I may be confined to a wheelchair, Maxine, but I am not senile!’ he cut in harshly. ‘Let's go in to dinner,’ he decided roughly.
‘James—–’
‘Dinner,’ he repeated in an autocratic voice, a voice that brooked no argument from anyone.
Maxine was the one to walk beside the electrically operated wheelchair as they went through to the dining-room, and Holly had perforce to accept the arm Zack Benedict mockingly held out to her. Not that she gave him a second glance, being too taken aback by James's attitude to Maxine. She had never heard him speak to his wife like that before in her presence, and she could only wonder at his uncharacteristic sharpness with her now. Perhaps he too wondered about his wife's relationship with his young brother.
The small round table had been set with four places, one of the chairs being removed as James skilfully manouevred his chair into this vacant spot. Holly and Maxine were to sit either side of him, with Zack opposite, the younger man seeing both woman seated with a gallant flourish.
The meal was nothing like the quiet ones of enjoyment Holly and James had shared together in the evenings the last few weeks, James eating his food in morose silence, Maxine and Zack seeming lost in their own thoughts, Holly just feeling awkward and uncomfortable in the tense atmosphere.
‘How is the writing going, James?’ Zack finally cut through the soft clatter of cutlery.
‘Fine,’ his brother answered curtly.
‘I'm sure working with Holly must be a great inspiration,’ the younger man taunted.
‘Holly is—restful to be with,’ James replied slowly.
‘Really?’ Dark blond brows rose over sceptical green eyes. ‘She doesn't make me feel that way.’
‘Holly makes Zack feel protective,’ Maxine put in derisively.
Hazel eyes sharpened suspiciously. ‘Protective?’
‘Actually,’ Zack answered the other man, ‘she doesn't make me feel that way either. Can you sing, Holly?’
‘Sing?’ she echoed in a startled voice, leaning back as her soup bowl was removed to be replaced with a clean plate for her main course. When she first came to work here she had been slightly unnerved by the abundance of servants in the house, but now she took it in her stride, although she was aware that the household staff considered her to be apart from them, treating her more like a guest than an employee like themselves.
‘Mm,’ Zack was watching her over the rim of the wine glass he held cupped in his hands. ‘With your looks, some sexy clothes, and a good singing voice, you could go far.’
‘At least as far as your bed, darling,’ Maxine drawled mockingly.
‘Maxine!’ James slammed his glass down on the table. ‘Keep that sort of talk for your London friends, neither Holly or I appreciate it.’
His wife's mouth tightened at the rebuke. ‘But we all know Zack's little songbirds occupy his bed at some time or other.’
‘You flatter me, sweet,’ Zack said dryly. ‘I have been known to fail on the odd occasion.’
‘I'm sure that neither Holly nor I are interested in your prowess in bed,’ his brother dismissed.
Mocking green eyes were turned on her. ‘Aren't you?’
A delicate blush darkened her cheeks. ‘I've always believed that if a man has to constantly prove himself in bed with a string of different women there's something wrong with him,’ she told him coldly.
‘Such as?’ He was still amused.
‘Such as he really prefers men, he's very shallow, or he's just afraid to fall in love with one woman,’ she said bluntly, looking only at him as she made the statement.
Maxine gave a laugh of pure enjoyment, her air of bored sophistication leaving her for a moment. ‘Well, Zack?’ she gave a gurgle of laughter, looking years younger, a warm glow to her blue eyes.
‘Hm,’ he grimaced. ‘You can safely discount the first, Holly,’ he said dryly. ‘I enjoy and like women too much for that to be true. The second? No, I don't think I'm shallow either. A little cynical, perhaps,’ he admitted thoughtfully. ‘As for being afraid of love …’ he shook his head, ‘I don't think that's true either. What's your excuse?’
She raised startled eyes at the unexpected suddenness of the question. ‘Excuse for what?’ she frowned.
‘For not being married.’
‘I—–’
‘Holly is only twenty-two,’ James defended tautly. ‘Much too young to be married.’
‘I was engaged to you at that age,’ Maxine reminded him sharply.
‘That was different,’ he snapped.
‘Was it?’ Her voice was hard.
‘I think so,’ he nodded grimly.
‘How?’
‘Maxine—–’
‘How was it different, James?’ she persisted.
His eyes were hard as he looked at her. ‘This is not the time to discuss it.’
‘It never is.’ She stood up with a noisy scrape of her chair. ‘Excuse me,’ her tone was brittle, ‘I'm no longer hungry.’
‘Maxine!’ James’ voice thundered across the room, halting her.
She turned slowly to face her husband, very pale beneath her make-up. ‘Yes?’
‘Sit down,’ he ordered abruptly.
‘Go to hell!’ she snapped.
His mouth tightened ominously. ‘I—said—sit—down!’
Maxine's head went back in challenge. ‘Make me.’
James went deathly pale. ‘Bitch!’ he groaned in a pained voice, and threw his napkin down on the table, manoeuvring his chair over to the door, pushing it open with a crash. The room was starkly silent after his exit.
Maxine suddenly gave a choked cry before she too rushed from the room.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_af2f98d7-4368-5cbe-bc8a-ae1ac5cdf55c)
HOLLY had sat in horrified silence as Maxine challenged James's disability in that cruel way. Although Maxine was often absent from the house she had never heard the other couple be so hurtful to each other before. It wasn't—–
‘Stay where you are.’
She hadn't even been aware of standing up, just as she had forgotten the presence of Zack Benedict in the dining-room with her. She resented being told what to do by him or anyone else when they had no right to do so! ‘I beg your pardon?’ She looked down at him icily.
‘Leave them alone,’ he advised gently. ‘From the look of them this argument has been a very long time coming.’
‘But—–’
‘I said leave them, Holly.’ He smiled to take the edge off his words. ‘After all, there's no reason for us to miss our dinner too. James and Maxine's marital problems will have to be worked out between them. So sit down and we'll eat.’
‘I—–’
‘I could make you,’ he warned softly.
She knew he could too. Most of the time he was lazily relaxed, almost indolent, and yet beneath the superb cut of his dinner jacket and silk shirt she was aware of the powerful shoulders and arms, had more than once been a witness to the steelier side of his nature, a side he took pains to hide most of the time.
She sank slowly back into her chair, beginning to eat her meal in silence. He might have ‘persuaded’ her to sit down with him, but she didn't have to give him the satisfaction of actually talking to him too.
She should have known the irrepressible Zack Benedict wouldn't be put off so easily. ‘You never did say whether or not you can sing,’ he prompted as they stood up to take their coffee through to the lounge.
‘Not a note,’ she answered absently, wondering if James was all right.
‘Have you ever tried?’
‘No, and I don't want to either! What are you, some sort of pimp for showgirls?’ She made her tone as insulting as possible, still very resentful of his autocratic behaviour earlier.
He smiled his amusement, not at all put out by her insult. ‘Actually, I'm a record producer. Disappointed?’ he mocked close to her ear, sitting annoyingly close to her on the sofa.
‘Not at all,’ she told him abruptly, moving away from him so that the length of his thigh no longer touched hers. ‘I'm sure you get just as much opportunity to show off your prowess there.’
He didn't rise to the taunt as she expected him to, but gave her a considering look. ‘Why is it you don't like me, Holly?’
‘Do I have to?’ She deliberately didn't look at him, aware that he had shifted slightly, that he was too close to her once again, and her hands were beginning to shake because of it.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘You don't have to …’
‘You just aren't accustomed to the novelty of a woman actually disliking you,’ she scorned.
‘Maybe later,’ he drawled. ‘But not usually on sight.’
She didn't need to ask what he meant by ‘later'. His hard good looks and lighthearted flirting might not appeal to her, but she could imagine a lot of women would be reluctant to give him up once they had known him. ‘I must just be the exception,’ she dismissed, standing up to put some distance between them.
‘And maybe you aren't.’ Zack stood up too. ‘Let's see, shall we?’ He moved purposefully towards her.
Her eyes widened in panic, and she stepped back to avoid him. ‘No …!’
‘Yes.’ His smile was confident as he continued to advance. ‘Relax, Holly, most woman enjoy it.’
His hands came out to prevent her moving any further, his head bending, and cool demanding lips took possession of hers. Her panic increased by the second, and she felt as if she were sinking, falling, her nails digging into his arms as she tried to cling on to reality.
‘Hey,’ he chided, raising his head slightly, ‘I'm not into masochism!’
‘Please …’
‘Okay, Holly,’ he shrugged, smiling wolfishly. ‘Whatever you like.’ He lowered his head once again.
She protested even as his mouth moved over hers once again, but even to her own ears it sounded weakly unconvincing. She thought she would faint as his mouth moved down to her throat, her breath coming in short gasps, only aware of his mouth and hands; his identity was no longer important to her, just that he should stop what he was doing. She reacted instinctively, bringing her knee up with all the force she could, hearing his groan of agony, as his hands fell away from her body.
It took several minutes for her to be under control enough to open her eyes, the only sounds in the room her own sobbing breaths and Zack's ragged ones. As she looked at him he was bent over double, obviously in a lot of pain, his face pale, a fine sheen of perspiration to his brow.
The full horror of what she had just done suddenly hit her. ‘Are you—all right?’ she choked, concern etched into her pale face.
He still couldn't straighten fully, and his eyes glittered with fury as he glared up at her. ‘If I am it will be no thanks to you,’ he rasped. ‘What the hell were you trying to do?’ he grimaced. ‘Emasculate me for life?’
She watched helplessly as he collapsed down on to the sofa. ‘Can I—get you anything? Do anything?’ she queried.
He looked at her with jaundiced eyes. ‘Haven't you done enough?’
She swallowed hard. ‘I—–’
‘Brandy,’ he changed his mind wth grim impatience. ‘Get me some brandy—please,’ he added dryly.
Holly hurried over to the drinks cabinet to pour him out a tumblerful, handing it to him with a shaking hand, taking care that they didn't touch again, seeing the derision on Zack's face as he noticed her evasion. ‘Are you really all right?’ she asked after his first gulp of the fiery liquid, noticing that he didn't even wince as it passed down his throat and hit his stomach.
He scowled up at her. ‘I think I will be. God, woman, you could have damaged me for life doing something like that!’
She flinched. ‘I—I'm sorry.’
‘Sorry!’ he repeated disgustedly. ‘Believe me, if I thought I was going to be permanently injured I'd make you more than sorry. Who the hell taught you to do that to a man?’ He took another swallow of his brandy. ‘Your brother's idea of a joke or Daddy's sure-fire way of protecting his little girl's innocence? This isn't the Victorian age, you know! And I was only kissing you, damn it.’ He emptied the glass, scowling heavily.
‘I don't have a brother, and my father is dead,’ Holly told him quietly. ‘He has been for years. I was taught self-defence during my last year at school.’
Zack's brows rose. ‘Even the girls?’
‘It was all girls,’ she revealed dully, knowing what he would make of that.
‘Now I begin to understand.’ His mouth twisted derisively.
Holly blushed at the knowing look in his eyes. ‘I'm not some repressed prude who despises men,’ she flashed resentfully. ‘You were kissing me against my will, I was perfectly within my rights to protect myself.’
‘Oh, you did that all right,’ he grimaced. ‘I suppose you have a few other little tricks like that up your sleeve?’
‘A few,’ she nodded.
‘Well, don't try them out on me. God,’ he groaned his pain as he attempted to move, ‘you certainly know how to put a man out of action!’
‘Yes.’
He gave her an irritated look. ‘You don't have to sound so proud of it. One little kiss,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Just one little kiss!’
‘Against my will,’ she reminded him tightly.
‘You only had to say no—–’
‘I did!’
He sighed. ‘Not very convincingly.’
‘How convincing did I have to be?’ Holly choked her disbelief at his arrogance.
‘Okay, okay,’ he dismissed impatiently. ‘So you did say no. But how was I supposed to know it wasn't just a token resistance?’
‘Do your women usually dig their nails into you?’ she scorned.
A devilish glint entered his eyes. ‘Sometimes.’ His smile was mocking.
Her mouth tightened. ‘On such short acquaintance?’
‘Sometimes.’ His brows rose in challenge.
Holly whirled away from him, knowing by his mocking humour that he was starting to feel better.
‘Hey, where are you going?’ he called crossly. ‘I'm not sure I'll ever be able to walk again, and you just walk away! You might at least help me stand up!’ He struggled to get to his feet.
Contrition for his obvious discomfort made her cross the room to his side, letting him lean against her while he gained his balance. ‘I really am sorry,’ she murmured as she saw he was still in a lot of pain.
‘I'll bet,’ he muttered.
‘But I am!’
Zack gave her a sceptical look, straightening with a heavy sigh. ‘Tell me something, Holly,’ he gave her a sideways glance. ‘Would James have got the same reaction if he'd been the one to try and kiss you?’
She blanched at the suggestion. ‘Don't be ridiculous!’
Emerald eyes narrowed on her speculatively. ‘What's so ridiculous about it? Or does the fact that he's in a wheelchair set him apart from other men?’
‘The fact that he's married does that!’
‘But unhappily, you have to agree,’ he taunted.
‘James is my employer—–’
‘And you think you're in love with him,’ Zack stated bluntly.
‘No—–’
‘Oh yes, Holly,’ he derided mockingly. ‘Maybe you see yourself as his confidante, his friend. Or maybe it's just his helplessness that appeals to you; whatever the reason, you imagine yourself in love with my brother.’
‘That isn't true!’ Her voice rose angrily. ‘You're wrong,’ she shook her head. ‘Just because I didn't like you kissing me it doesn't mean I'm in love with another man.’
‘Not just any man—James.’
‘No—–’
‘Yes, Holly,’ he insisted. ‘Believe me, if I can see it then so can other people, maybe even James himself.’
‘No …’ Her denial was a choked plea this time.
‘Yes,’ Zack's voice was gentle. ‘And you'll end up being hurt. James and Maxine may be a little mixed up at the moment, but they really love each other very much. You'll be the one left out in the cold in the end.’
‘You're wrong about me.’ She shook her head, backing away from him and making a desperate grab for the doorhandle, all the time shaking her head in sharp denial. ‘You're only saying these things because of your own affair with Maxine. You—–’
‘My what?’ he burst out grimly. ‘Oh, I know you jumped to that conclusion this afternoon, and because your assumption amused me at the time I let you go on thinking it, but you can't seriously still believe it's true,’ he dismissed scathingly.
She had the door open now, poised to take flight at a second's notice. ‘Why not?’ she challenged defensively.
‘James is my brother!’
‘And you obviously feel nothing but contempt for him,’ she accused heatedly. ‘You've mocked his profession, his inability to walk, why not add injury to insult and take his wife from him?’
He was breathing raggedly in an effort to hold on to his own temper, the steely side of his nature much in evidence now, his eyes glacial, his mouth a thin straight line above his clenched jaw. ‘You can really ask me that in all seriousness?’ he finally ground out.
Her chin went up defiantly. ‘Yes.’
‘Get out of here, Holly,’ he told her in a rigidly controlled voice. ‘While you still can,’ he added, dangerously soft, as she made no effort to move.
Some of her confidence deserted her, and for a brief moment she wondered if she could have been wrong about him and Maxine. Then she remembered their closeness tonight, their intimacy with each other. No, she hadn't been wrong about them. But Zack was wrong about her, she didn't love James; she cared for him, yes, but she didn't love any man.
‘I'm going,’ she told him calmly. ‘But don't think I've believed a word you've said. And if Maxine chooses you she's chosen the lesser man,’ she added insultingly.
‘Maxine made her choice years ago,’ Zack bit out. ‘She chose the right man for her.’ He turned away, his earlier injury forgotten. ‘Go to bed, Holly. I think you've pulled enough skeletons out of the cupboard for one night.’
With one last uncertain glance at the rigidity of his back and shoulders as he stared sightlessly out of the window she did as he suggested, closing the door softly behind her. Zack's last words seemed to indicate that there had indeed once been rivalry between the two brothers and that Maxine had chosen James. Or had she? Zack only said she had chosen the right man for her, that didn't necessarily mean James. Could it possibly be that Zack was so derogatory about his brother's disability because it kept the woman he loved tied to her husband?
She sat down shakily on her bed, remembering what else Zack had said. Could she really be in love with James? She hadn't thought she was. She cared what happened to him, was concerned for him, but was that love? She knew so little about the emotion between a man and a woman, although she knew her mother and father had loved each other very much. She herself had stayed away from emotional involvement with men since—since—God, she could still barely stand to think of his name, let alone the man himself!
Alex … Alex Chance. He had hurt her more than any man had the right to hurt any human being, let alone one he professed to love. He was the reason she found it hard to love any man. She doubted if she would ever allow herself to feel those emotions again.
Neither James or Maxine came down to breakfast the next morning, although it was a Saturday, so perhaps that was understandable; James rarely worked on a Saturday, and Maxine was never an early riser. Zack Benedict didn't look as if he was normally the latter either, yawning tiredly as he came into the dining-room shortly after Holly.
She kept her lashes downcast, her gaze fixed on the cup of coffee she held in both hands, although she had noticed everything about him from the brief glance she had given him as he entered the room. He was dressed much the same as he had been when they met yesterday, tight faded denims and a casual shirt, the latter bottle green today, buttoned partly up his chest, the last three buttons left unfastened, as if he had been in too much of a hurry to bother with the rest. In fact he looked as if he had been in too much of a hurry to bother much with his appearance at all this morning, with his golden hair brushed casually back from his face.
‘Damned razor,’ he muttered as he seated himself opposite her.
‘Hm—–?’ Holly understood as she looked up; she had missed the piece of tissue sticking to an obvious cut on his chin the first time she looked at him. Although she shouldn't have done, it was large enough!
After the stilted way they had parted the night before she had been a little wary of how they were going to meet with any politeness today, but at the sight of the bloodied piece of ragged tissue sticking to his chin she had no hesitation in bursting out laughing. She had never imagined she could ever find anything about this man remotely funny, and yet the sight of him showing such a human weakness as cutting himself shaving sent her into uncontrollable laughter.
Green eyes darkened appreciatively as Zack watched her with an emotion akin to amazement. ‘Do you have any idea what a difference it makes?’ he asked at last.
‘Sorry?’ She still smiled.
‘When you laugh it's as if the sun had just come out,’ Zack told her softly. ‘Beautiful.’
She flushed at the unexpected compliment. ‘Do you have any idea how funny you look?’ she brought the subject straight back to him.
He shrugged. ‘Would you rather I'd subjected you to the sight of just the horrific gash and my life's blood slowly seeping away? Forget I asked that,’ he grimaced. ‘You'd probably stand by and cheer!’
Holly sobered completely now. ‘Mr Benedict—–’
‘Let's not start that again,’ he sighed.
‘All right,’ she nodded. ‘Look, I know we got off to a bad start, but if you really are going to stay here for any length of time we can't continue to argue like this.’ She had thought this all out last night before she went to sleep, and if she were to continue in the employment of James's secretary she couldn't continue to be at loggerheads with his brother—even if he did antagonise her until she had to retaliate. Much as she disliked having to be the one to apologise, she knew she couldn't let things remain strained between herself and this arrogantly mocking man. ‘I'm sorry I was rude to you last night. I—It was all a bit of a shock, James and Maxine's argument—–’
‘And then our own,’ he drawled.
She flushed at the taunt. ‘And then ours,’ she acknowledged huskily.
‘Why did you stop?’
‘Stop what?’ She gave him a puzzled frown.
‘Laughing.’ His gaze was intent on her face. ‘It was as if all the lights went out.’ He relaxed back in his chair, the delicate wood creaking under his heavy frame. ‘You're right, Holly, we can't keep arguing all the time,’ he said slowly. ‘So what do you suggest we do, become friends?’
She swallowed hard at the husky implication behind his words. ‘I was thinking more of acquaintances,’ she amended.
Zack grinned. ‘I've never been acquaintances with a woman, it might be quite interesting at that.’ He sipped his coffee, giving her a sideways glance. ‘Don't acquaintances ask after your health?’
This time the colour flooded her cheeks, and she almost choked over the toast she was eating. ‘Are you—all right?’ she asked as soon as she had her voice under control.
‘I believe I'll have to take things easy for a few days,’ he answered with innocent casualness. ‘But after that I should be fine.’
His answer was so blandly given that it was all she could do not to laugh again. Zack Benedict really was the most extraordinary man …!
‘Tell me, Holly?’ he leant towards her with a serious expression, ‘do you think I've stopped bleeding to death now?’
Her lips twitched with amusement, but she gave the question serious consideration. ‘Yes, I think so,’ she nodded. ‘Are you usually this forgiving?’ She referred to his calm dismissal of the injury she had inflicted on him the evening before.
‘Only with women who have Elizabeth Taylor eyes,’ he flirted wickedly. ‘Be a good girl and take this tissue off for me. If it looks like bleeding again stick it back on quick; this is my second clean shirt today, I got blood all over the first one.’
With any other man Holly would have shied away from this intimacy, but after last night she knew he would have second thoughts about attempting to kiss her again, possibly even third and fourth ones!
‘What are you thinking?’ He was watching her with narrowed eyes.
‘Nothing very important,’ she dismissed coolly.
‘I'll bet.’ He sat forward so that his chin was easily accessible. ‘Those violet eyes hide a multitude of sins!’
Holly met his gaze steadily. ‘Not as many as yours, I'm sure,’ she replied tartly.
Zack gave a deep throaty laugh of pure enjoyment. ‘I'm sure too,’ he grinned. ‘So how about taking off the tissue?’
His jaw felt firm beneath her touch, the skin rough from the beard that grew there. It was years since she had touched a man in any way, and she removed the tissue as quickly as possible.
‘Tell me the bad news,’ he grimaced, looking at her expectantly.
There was quite a deep groove in his chin, the skin looked red and sore. ‘That's quite a nasty cut,’ she told him softly.
‘Mm,’ he pulled a face, rubbing his jaw ruefully. ‘For some reason I didn't have my mind on what I was doing this morning.’
The way he was looking at her seemed to imply that she was partly, if not all, the reason for his lack of concentration. Holly flushed, attempting to move away from him. But not quite soon enough! The door suddenly opened behind them, the soft whirring sound of James's chair announcing his arrival before he spoke. Holly sprang away from Zack Benedict as if he burnt her, aware by the narrowing of James's eyes that he saw the movement as one of guilt, looking questioning at his brother, his mouth firm with disapproval.
‘James,’ Zack stood up lithely. ‘How is Maxine this morning?’
Holly watched as James's face darkened, wondering why Zack Benedict felt it necessary to instantly antagonise his brother. The question about Maxine was inflammatory, and she felt sure the man seated opposite her at the table was well aware of it.
‘I have no idea,’ James snapped. ‘As usual I doubt if we'll be honoured with her presence until lunchtime. I came to see if you would mind working this morning, Holly?’ he looked at her.
‘I—–’
‘On a Saturday, James?’ the other man taunted. ‘Give the poor girl a break!’
‘Holly?’ James demanded stiffly, ignoring his brother.
He was no less strained today, in fact if anything he looked worse. Obviously he and Maxine were still at odds with each other. Holly often worked with James on a Saturday, although with his wife back she hadn't expected to do so today.
‘Why don't you have some breakfast first?’ Zack suggested before she could make any reply. ‘Relax a little,’ he encouraged.
Hazel eyes were coldly angry as James looked at his brother. ‘I relaxed yesterday, now it's time to get back to work. Holly?’ He gave her a hard stare.
She pushed back her chair and stood up. ‘I'm ready whenever you are.’
‘Now,’ he rasped, turning his chair to leave the room, clearly expecting her to follow him.
Holly watched his departure with hurt in her wide violet eyes. James had never spoken to her like this before, although she realised Zack Benedict's taunts hadn't helped to improve the other man's already volcanic mood.
‘I shouldn't keep him waiting,’ Zack murmured mockingly. ‘He's likely to explode!’
She gave him a resentful look for his amusement. ‘You didn't exactly help the situation!’
His brows rose. ‘Was I supposed to?’
‘James is your brother—–’
‘And yesterday and today are the first times I've seen him show any real damned emotion in the years since his accident!’ he rasped. ‘I'll do anything in my power to make that continue.’
‘Even if you hurt him in the process?’
‘Yes,’ his eyes glittered, ‘even if I hurt him. At least that way I know he's alive!’
‘Zack …?’ She looked at him with puzzled eyes, not understanding his vehemence.
‘Go and do your work, Holly, and don't worry about my goading James; I know what I'm doing.’
She left him with a worried frown and went slowly down to James's study, moving quickly and quietly behind the desk she used when in there as he looked up with a scowl. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled as he made no effort to speak.
‘For what?’ he bit out.
‘I—Well, for—I'm not too sure,’ she finished awkwardly. ‘You seem angry about something.’
James gave a heavy sigh, relaxing a little. ‘Just how friendly have you and Zack become since he arrived yesterday?’
‘I—I beg your pardon?’ She gave a deep frown.
He seemed to be avoiding looking at her directly. ‘I happen to care a great deal for Zack—–’
‘He cares for you too.’ She had no doubt about that now, was convinced he covered that caring with taunts and jibes that would bring about a reaction in James—any reaction. She didn't understand such caring herself, but James and Zack seemed to understand each other very well.
‘Yes,’ James acknowledged with impatience. ‘And it isn't just because we're brothers; we genuinely care for each other. It's because I know Zack so well that I also know you shouldn't become involved with him.’
‘But I—–’
‘Zack changes his women so often I think sometimes even he gets them confused,’ James continued grimly. ‘He's a flirtatious charmer, and if you become involved with him he'd only succeed in hurting you.’
‘But I'm not in the least interested in him!’ she at last managed to say exasperatedly.
He shook his head. ‘I saw how close the two of you were just now, and I'm sure Zack didn't waste his time alone with you last night.’
‘You know Maxine left straight after you did?’ Her eyes were wide.
‘Yes,’ he nodded grimly. ‘She came to my room in the hope of having a slanging match; I refused to assist her. Surely you've realised my marriage is falling apart, Holly?’
‘I'm sure that if the two of you talked—–’
‘We would get nowhere,’ he finished firmly. ‘Maxine is no longer the type of wife I need, and we both know it. It's only a question of time before we separate for good.’
‘I—I'm sorry,’ she said in a pained voice, knowing how much this irrevocable breakdown must be hurting him. ‘If there's anything I can do—–’
‘Stay with me, Holly.’ His expression was intent, one of his hands coming out to grasp hers firmly. ‘Stay with me,’ he repeated softly. ‘I need you.’
She didn't know how to answer him, wasn't able to, as she saw a slight movement out of the corner of her eye, suddenly seeing Zack Benedict as he strolled casually through the garden. The french doors from this room opened out into the garden, and they were open now. How much of the conversation had Zack Benedict heard? If he had heard any of it at all he must find it very amusing, each brother now having warned her about the other. Although it looked as if his warning about James wasn't altogether unwarranted. The question was, what was she going to do about it!
‘I'll be your secretary for as long as you want me to,’ she was deliberately naïve. ‘You know I enjoy working here.’
‘That wasn't quite what I meant,’ James scowled his impatience. ‘I want—–’
‘Sorry to interrupt you, James,’ Zack spoke in a voice that said he wasn't sorry at all, as he walked in from the sunlit garden, ‘but I just thought I should let you know that I'm driving Maxine into town for an hour; she needs to buy some things she forgot in London. I didn't interrupt you—working, did I?’ He raised blond brows at Holly's hand still clasped in his brother's.
Holly removed her hand with a guilty blush, knowing by the mockery in the dark green eyes that he had chosen to misunderstand the situation. He had no reason to condemn her on so little, not when he was so obviously more than a brother-in-law to the beautiful Maxine! She noticed the green eyes narrow slightly, almost as if he had been able to read her thoughts. Well, she didn't care if he had, she had been doing nothing wrong when he came into the room.
‘Maxine is up, then?’ James didn't bother to answer his brother's question, asking one of his own.
‘Well, I could hardly be taking her into town if she weren't,’ Zack baited.
James's scowl deepened. ‘Why doesn't she drive herself? You aren't a taxi service.’
‘It just so happens that I offered to drive her,’ the other man told him sharply. ‘It is her first day here,’ he added abruptly. ‘I thought she could do with the company. Unless you …?’
‘No,’ James rasped. ‘Holly and I have some work to do.’
Mocking green eyes raked over her assessingly, almost as if Zack Benedict were accusing her of something. It wasn't too difficult to imagine what, not after what he had seen and heard! How could she possibly claim her innocence after this?
He nodded slightly. ‘I'll leave you to it, then. Don't work too hard.’ He left the same way he had entered, leaving an awkward silence behind him.
Holly didn't know whether to be grateful or angry at his interruption, knowing by his attitude that he had chosen to misunderstand what he had heard.
‘Where were we?’ asked James with impatience.
‘We were going to do some work on the book,’ she said briskly, wanting to divert his attention away from what they had really been discussing. She stood up. ‘I have the research notes you wanted in my desk, I'll go and get them.’
‘Holly—–’
‘Yes?’ She turned at the door, willing him not to tell her again how much he needed her.
He seemed to hesitate, then he nodded. ‘Go and get the notes,’ he said gruffly.
She escaped the room with relief, leaning back against the door for several seconds, then moving quickly to her office as she realised James would become concerned with the passing of time.
She had unlocked her desk and taken the papers out of the drawer when her office door opened without warning. Zack Benedict entered the room, closing the door to lean back against it, his arms folded in front of his chest.
Holly straightened at the blatant mockery in his face. ‘What can I do for you, Mr Benedict?’ she enquired coolly.
‘You can tell me what you intend to do now that it appears my brother thinks he's in love with you too.’ His eyes were as hard as the emeralds they resembled.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_cff2a977-e82e-5ef8-b1df-1230f4c45982)
‘YOU were listening?’
He gave her an arrogant inclination of his head. ‘Perhaps instead of looking so outraged you should think yourself lucky that I was the one who decided to take a walk in the garden.’
Holly paled a little. ‘Maxine …?’
‘She is his wife—–’
‘If you think I encouraged that scene you witnessed with James then you're mistaken,’ Holly snapped. ‘You have no right to accuse me of—–’
‘I haven't accused you of anything,’ Zack reasoned smoothly. ‘I just want to know what you're going to do about this situation.’
She flushed. ‘I'm not sure there is a situation—–’
‘Don't be ridiculous, Holly,’ the usually lazily mocking man lost his temper with her. ‘Of course there's a situation!’ He glanced impatiently at his wrist-watch. ‘I just don't have the time to argue with you about it now, you have to get back to James and I have to drive Maxine into town. But we'll talk when I get back,’ he warned, opening the door. ‘I may not have accused you of anything yet, but I will if you can't think of a way to sort out this mess so that no one gets hurt.’
‘Mr Benedict—–’
‘Give it some thought, Holly,’ he advised softly, all laughter missing from a man she had thought found humour in everything. ‘Because this certainly can't go on.’
The room was curiously silent and empty after he had gone, and Holly knew that although she had done nothing personally to merit his anger he had a perfect right to feel it. The whole situation was turning into a farce, and she was going to be the innocent victim if she wasn't careful. Once again! She had been blamed for something that wasn't her fault once before, she couldn't let it happen again.
Fortunately James seemed to have forgotten all about the conversation she found so embarrassing by the time she returned with her notes, and with Maxine and Zack out of the house they were able to work steadily through the morning, James only calling a halt to it when he heard the other couple returning for lunch.
‘I suppose we'll have to join them.’ He didn't looked very pleased at the prospect.
‘I'll just go and freshen up,’ she nodded, no more eager to see Zack again than James seemed to be about his wife. And only yesterday morning she had thought how happy she was here; that idea was fast disintegrating.
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