Into Temptation

by Emma Abbott

  ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. She knew it all too well. The bitter knowledge that they would soon have nothing more to do with each other had been eating away at her with increasing ferocity.

  ‘And you haven’t changed your mind about staying on?’

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ she said, resolutely lifting her chin, and looking him confidently in the eye.

  ‘You’ve managed to find another job?’

  ‘Yes. I’m to be a finance assistant at Havilland Inns.’

  ‘A finance assistant?’ he glowered. ‘That’s beneath you Amber, and you know it. How you could pass up the offer of a senior position at Ward Hotels to take on something like that is quite beyond me. You’re one of the most stubborn people I know – and chief among those I count myself.’

  Anger flared inside her. ‘Stubborn? Me?’ she countered in a low voice. ‘How dare you! If you think for a moment that I could carry on working for you after…’

  ‘Ah Jack, here you are,’ interjected a polite female voice. A woman with short, greying hair appeared at their side. Irritation momentarily clouded Jack’s face – then melted away. ‘I’ve been looking for you all over,’ she continued, shooting Amber a friendly smile.

  ‘Amber,’ said Jack, standing up, meet Iris, my assistant. ‘Iris, this is Amber Dorey.’

  ‘It’s nice to meet you at last,’ Amber said, trying to maintain her composure. She’d spoken to Iris on the phone several times. They shook hands, then the woman turned back to Jack.

  ‘I thought I’d let you know that the American Ambassador and his wife have arrived,’ she said.

  ‘Already?’ Jack frowned. ‘Then we had better be going.’ He held out his hand to Amber. ‘Come.’

  ‘What? You’ve never been to Barbados? Then it really is high time that was remedied,’ the prime minister of Barbados told Amber warmly. ‘You must get Jack to bring you – there’s no excuse now after his latest acquisition on our island. And of course, I insist that you both have dinner with me at my private residence.’

  ‘I’d be honoured,’ said Amber.

  ‘Good. Here’s my card. Now my dear, would you excuse me? I see my wife is calling me. A pleasure to meet you.’

  Amber felt a warm rush of pleasure. An invitation to dinner from the Barbadian premier! Surely not many people could say they’d been on the receiving end of one of those. And earlier a famous actress, whose work Amber admired, had talked with her at length about Guernsey, where it emerged she’d spent many holidays as a child. She’d even promised to send two front seat tickets for her next concert ‘For you and Jack’.

  Mentally she pinched herself, watching the hundreds of immaculately dressed people milling around, laughing and talking. It was difficult to believe that she was here, as Jack’s hostess, mingling with all these movers and shakers – not only politicians and ambassadors, but chief executives of major companies, pop stars, models, film stars, fashion designers. Jack was even more influential than she’d ever thought.

  And everyone clearly had assumed that she was his latest girlfriend; he’d been perfectly correct. She’d been fielding enquiries all night as to who she was, and how she’d met their host.

  But she’d been utterly discreet, given out as little information as possible. No one would know that it was a sham; that she wasn’t his girlfriend at all, but simply someone who’d shared his bed a couple of times, and meant no more to him than the average casual encounter did. Just his employee, a lowly number cruncher from Guernsey – who would shortly be only a financial assistant, and single mother to boot. None of it meant anything. In a week she would be gone.

  The brief surge of pleasure subsided, and she felt a wrench of pure misery as she watched him, just feet away, interacting with his guests. Oh but he was good – a natural, charismatic host. Not just good, magnetic – able instantly to gain the confidence of both men and women alike. It was little wonder that he had got so far in life: just look at the way he was holding the attention of the famous actress he was talking to.

  ‘Isn’t he simply marvellous?’

  She turned at the sound of the sudden female voice at her side. Next to her stood a tall, very good-looking woman with jet-black hair, and large, coal-black eyes. She was wearing a tight, platinum satin dress with a laced corset top, into which her whippet-thin body had clearly been expertly strapped.

  ‘Jack I mean,’ the woman continued. ‘Isn’t he utterly brilliant? Such a charmer. Oh, I’m sorry…’ she held out a reedy hand, and gave Amber the briefest handshake she’d ever been on the receiving end of. ‘Cassie Kirkwood. We spoke on the phone a couple of weeks ago. That was you, wasn’t it, in Guernsey?’ she asked, narrowing her eyes. ‘I overheard you speaking to the American Ambassador earlier on, and I knew I recognised your voice from somewhere. It wasn’t until a moment ago that I put two and two together.’ A supercilious smile slid onto her shiny red lips, and Amber felt a beat of apprehension. ‘When I saw Jack’s mother’s diamonds around your neck I wondered who on earth you were.’

  Jack’s mother’s diamonds…? Instinctively Amber put up a hand to her throat.

  ‘Everyone else here is wondering exactly the same thing,’ Cassie continued. ‘It’s so amusing. One person said he’d heard you were an heiress, while another told me you were in television. And one person positively swore you were singing in the latest production of Madame Butterfly at the Royal Opera House. But all the time you’re just some mousy little bookkeeper in an outpost of Jack’s empire! What an absolute hoot!’

  ‘I work for Jack,’ said Amber slowly and deliberately, anger, humiliation and bitter dislike pinching painfully at her, ‘that’s quite correct. And I haven’t told anyone otherwise. If people want to make assumptions about me that’s none of my concern.’

  So this was Cassie. She was beautiful all right, in that haughty way that so many models were these days. Rich man’s arm candy – the sort of spoilt rich bitch men like Jack were always photographed with on the society pages. She was poisonous as a spider. How could Jack possibly have been interested in someone like her, however briefly?

  ‘Alicia Jamieson must have let him down at the last minute,’ Cassie sailed on cattily. ‘I can’t imagine why he would have drafted you in otherwise. I heard she was called away to Egypt to reshoot a key scene in her latest film. She was due to be his hostess tonight. Or didn’t you know?’

  So, Jack had been due to bring Alicia Jamieson, the famous British film star? Amber tried to swallow the growing lump in her throat. ‘Jack’s personal arrangements are no business of mine. I’m just an employee.’

  ‘Just a word of advice,’ said Cassie, leaning in close, voice low, ‘don’t get any ideas. You’ll save yourself a lot of heartache. Jack’s well known for his predilection for sampling the local female fare wherever he happens to be. There’s a trail of broken-hearted secretaries and assistants a mile long behind you. And anyway,’ she said, twisting a large cabochon ruby ring on her stick-thin finger, ‘Jack and I are still together. Or rather, we’re just taking a bit of a break. We’ve had a few problems, but essentially…’

  ‘Cassie!’ Jack loomed suddenly in front of them, face dark with anger. ‘How did you get in here? You’re not on the guest list.’

  Cassie’s head yanked up, and Amber watched as her face was utterly transformed, the sour expression of just a few seconds earlier superseded by a dazzling smile.

  ‘Hamish brought me,’ she said breathily. ‘Camilla dumped him, so the poor dear was left without a partner. Don’t worry, it’s all utterly legit, I haven’t gate-crashed.’ She placed a hand on his arm. ‘Oh Jack darling, it’s so good to see you again. I…’

  Jack turned to Amber, gently but firmly removing Cassie’s hand, and cutting her off mid-sentence. ‘We have to go into dinner now Amber. The head waiter is just about to announce it.’ He gave her his arm.

  ‘…And although we have significantly exceeded our fundraising targets this year, there’s no room for complacency. According to UNICEF
, more than two million children are living with HIV today. And each new day brings more infections. Those of you who know me, know that I’m not one to mince my words: my lords, ladies and gentlemen, in this day and age, this is nothing short of scandalous…’

  There was a general murmur of approval. Amber sat at Jack’s side, watching him as he spoke, his face alive with zeal for his cause, hundreds of eyes silently focused on him, every person engrossed in his speech. He had a few hastily scribbled notes in front of him, she saw, but most of what he said was completely off the cuff.

  This genuine passion of his for the London Children’s Foundation was something she hadn’t anticipated. Finding out that he headed up the organisation in the first place had been a surprise, but learning just how seriously he took it – how much it personally engaged him – had been even more of a surprise still.

  She was discovering a whole new side to him tonight, a side that didn’t at all equate to the image of the cold-hearted tycoon he habitually projected. She’d learned that he’d done much for the foundation which went well above and beyond the call of duty: taking time out from his crazy schedule to help oversee an African school-building project, helping to lobby for the government’s overseas aid programme – and donating a sizeable chunk of his own money to get the charity’s HIV education project kick-started.

  She took a mouthful of water, her thoughts racing, wishing fervently that it were champagne instead – anything to dull the pain.

  Of course, Cassie had clearly been lying about the girlfriend thing: Jack’s obvious anger at seeing his ex when she evidently hadn’t been invited would appear to belie entirely the woman’s claim that they were still involved.

  But what did it matter? She, Amber, was just his employee, exactly as Cassie had said – she’d been telling the truth about that. She was merely someone hosting the event alongside him, because Alicia Jamieson had had to cancel at the last moment – beautiful, blonde-haired Alicia, who doubtless was Jack’s new girlfriend.

  ‘Amber?’

  All at once she was aware that Jack’s speech was finished – and he was looking down at her, hand outstretched.

  ‘Shall we?’ he asked.

  She realised that the band had struck up. Ah, so that was it. It was time for the first dance, and he wanted her on the floor, doing her hostess’ duty. She gave a complaisant smile and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. He placed his other hand on her lower back, and gently but firmly eased her in towards him, her body instinctively tensing at his closeness. Then they began to move around the floor, him expertly leading, she following, hundreds of pairs of speculating eyes following in their wake.

  Gradually she became aware, once again, of his enigmatic blue-black eyes, holding her fast in his gaze – she felt like something caught in a net.

  ‘Why are you looking at me like that,’ she said eventually, testily, sudden anger burrowing into her chest like a worm – anger not only at the way that he was looking at her, but at all this: this extended farce, at whose centre she was. ‘You’ve been watching me like that all evening,’ she persisted, irritation rising. ‘What’s the matter? Don’t I quite come up to scratch? Did the hairdresser not do his job quite as well as you’d expected?’

  She saw something flash briefly across his eyes. He shook his head. ‘I can’t help but look at you,’ he said. ‘And I apologise if it unnerves you. It’s just that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. There’s nothing about you that hairdressers or stylists could possibly improve on. And anyway, that’s not why I had those appointments booked for you. I simply wanted you to enjoy your afternoon.’

  Her head spun, and she looked away, the wind knocked out of her sails. Other couples slowly began to make their way onto the dance floor. He pulled her even closer. The music changed, and they danced on, slowly and silently, through song after song.

  ‘Do you remember the last time we danced together?’ he asked, eventually, his voice low, his lips brushing her ear. ‘On the beach, outside the Sands Club.’

  She closed her eyes, hating her weak, treacherous heart for the way it had begun to pump faster and faster. Remember? How could she ever forget? Oh why was he doing this? Tormenting her…

  ‘You were utterly soft and pliable in my arms, just like you are now,’ he murmured. ‘And I remember that amazing red dress you were wearing. It was very low cut. Just like the one you’re wearing tonight.’

  She shifted slightly, against him, glad the floor was crowded with people – that no one would be able to see her agitation. ‘Oughtn’t you to dance with someone else now?’ she asked.

  ‘Why should I, when I have the perfect partner? You’re a natural Amber. A natural dancer – and a natural hostess. You’ve charmed everyone, just as I thought you would.’

  ‘Ah, so I’ve discharged my duty to your satisfaction then have I?’ she said, eyes rising in challenge. ‘I’ve managed to convince everyone that I’m someone important have I, possibly your girlfriend even? That I’m not just some inconsequential little underling of yours from some equally inconsequential little island?’

  He gave a sardonic smile. ‘Yes, you’ve managed to persuade everyone. But just to be sure, I propose we provide them with yet more ammunition…’

  All of a sudden his hands were cupping her face, tipping her head up, and his mouth was on hers. For a second she was lost, drowning in a heady sea of pleasure. Then her senses returned.

  No. Not again.

  She wasn’t going to allow this to happen again. It was enough. Pride, anger and a keen sense of self-preservation all asserted themselves in her, and she wrenched herself free, pushed her way through the crowd of people on the dance floor. She heard him call her name, but she didn’t turn back.

  She had to get out. Now.

  Chapter Twelve

  She hurried back out through the ballroom to the lifts, jabbed at the button, willing the doors to open. What was taking so long…?

  Then, suddenly, Jack was at her side, his face grave.

  ‘Amber, what’s going on? Where are you going?’

  ‘Away from here. I’ve had enough of you taking me for the biggest fool around.’

  He put a hand on her shoulder. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ She swung around to face him, shaking off his hand. ‘You need to ask what the matter is? I’m sick of this Jack, that’s what the matter is.’

  A couple of guests walked past and looked over, polite surprise at the altercation etched onto their faces.

  ‘In here,’ he said, pulling her into a deserted side lounge.

  ‘What’s wrong Jack?’ she questioned sharply, sarcastically. ‘Worried people will talk, start saying Jack Ward’s new girlfriend is a bit of a live wire?’

  ‘I don’t care what anyone thinks,’ he countered, his forehead furrowing. ‘I just want to hear what’s bothering you, without interruption.’ He folded his arms. ‘So Amber, what is it exactly that you’re sick of?’

  ‘This stupid act! Which hasn’t convinced anyone at all, much as you might like to congratulate yourself that it has. Cassie knows exactly who I am.’

  ‘Cassie? Has Cassie been saying something to you?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Amber, tossing back her hair, eyes brimming with resentment, everything, all her anger, all the accumulated pain of the last few weeks now primed and waiting to come out, ‘Cassie had quite a lot to say. I had quite a little heart-to-heart earlier – rather like the one I had with your dear stepmother. She filled me in on one or two things – though, admittedly, nothing I didn’t already know – like the fact you have a woman in every port where there’s a Ward hotel.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘It’s not my place to tell you how to lead your life – after all, I’m just your latest conquest aren’t I? But really, Jack, that’s kind of a sordid way to live, don’t you think?’

  He glared down at her. ‘I don’t have a woman in every port. You’re the only employee I’ve ever been involved wit
h.’

  She shook her head, not wanting, not able to believe it. ‘But it doesn’t matter, Jack. I can’t do this any more. I can’t… carry on working for you when all the time I just… I just…’ She felt a tear slip out of her eye and make its way down her cheek. Mortified she put up a hand and rubbed away the all-too obvious evidence of the pain he was causing, of how much he meant to her. ‘You have to release me from the contract,’ she said quietly, but decisively. ‘It’s not fair. You were wrong to seduce me that first night, and I was wrong to allow it to happen a second time. All of this is wrong. I’ve let my heart rule my head. I refuse to carry on with this pretence tonight, though. I’m a flesh-and-blood woman – with feelings, not… not a robot.’

  He touched a finger to her bare shoulders. ‘Then let’s not pretend any longer,’ he said. ‘Amber I haven’t been entirely honest with you, I…’

  ‘Ah, here you both are.’ They looked up with one accord at the sudden interruption. Jack’s secretary was standing in the doorway, the American Ambassador’s wife at her side. ‘We’ve been looking for you everywhere. The raffle’s about to start.’

  Amber watched Jack struggle briefly to regain his composure. She’d completely forgotten about the charity raffle, as, apparently, had Jack. He was supposed to be compering it, and the ambassador’s wife was meant to be picking out the numbers.

  ‘Of course,’ he said, turning, and offering the ambassador’s wife his arm. ‘My apologies, I hadn’t realised the time.’ He turned briefly back to Amber, his eyes dark and serious, belying his cordial smile. ‘Would you meet me back here in half an hour Amber? There’s something important we still need to discuss.’

  Gathering her wits, Amber nodded, and watched as Jack escorted the ambassador’s wife away.

  She went to splash her face with water, then found herself a quiet corner at the back of the Manhattan Bar. It was impossible to go back into the ballroom now, with all those people looking at her, impossible to maintain her composure while she watched the man she loved wow his guests, a million-and-one feverish thoughts darting back and forth through her brain.