Dark Encounter

by Susanna Firth

  'Yes,' he said, pausing slightly to savour the apprehension on her face before he added, 'You can do my tie for me. I was having trouble with it when you came in.'

  She felt almost weak at his words—whether with relief or disappointment she could not have said. His eyes never left her face as she fumbled with the dark strips of material, making two attempts before she managed a creditable bow.

  'Thank you.' He stepped away from her and viewed the result in the mirror before shrugging himself into his jacket. 'You have hidden talents. I must bear them in mind for the future.'

  There was no answer she could safely make to that, so she remained silent.

  'If you're ready now, I'll show you round the flat and you can see the caterer about the food,' he said, going to the door and holding it open for her to precede him. Never had she been so glad to leave a room in her life and from the speed at which she moved Kate guessed that he realised it, although the carefully bland expression on his face gave no hint of his thoughts.

  He gave her a brisk tour of the other rooms, explaining that they would have aperitifs in the elegantly furnished sitting room before dinner and return there for coffee afterwards. The dining room, its beautiful rosewood table attractively laid with gleaming silver, presented a warmly welcoming picture. In the kitchen Kate was introduced to the girl from the catering firm who had cooked the meal and was to stay to serve it. Everything, it appeared, was well under control.

  'So you see there's nothing to worry about.' Nicholas said bracingly as he led her back into the sitting room and poured her a dry sherry to steady her nerves against the prospect of the evening ahead.

  'Nothing at all,' she smiled. That was if you did not count the gigantic hurdle of meeting Jeremy again. She supposed that it was a situation that Nicholas would take in his usual cool, confident fashion. Presumably he was accustomed to such matters. London was probably littered with his ex-girlfriends.

  'Did you know Edwards well?' he asked her. 'It was only a small firm, so I suppose you had a fair amount of contact with him?'

  She was glad now that she had been cautious enough never to mention exactly what she had done at Edwards Engineering. He had never enquired until now and she had been too glad to banish the past from her mind. 'No, not well,' she lied.

  'Why did you actually leave them?' he was asking curiously, making her heart miss a beat, when the doorbell rang and brought her release. He abandoned the question and moved to greet his guests.

  Licking suddenly dry lips, Kate set down her glass and got to her feet, hoping that Nicholas would attribute the unnaturally bright smile that she had pinned on her face to nerves. Then there was no more time to worry about anything.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The meal was half over before Kate was able to relax her taut nerves and allow herself the luxury of assessing how everything was going. The food so far had been superb—or so their guests had thought at least. They had been loud in their compliments. She herself had barely tasted it: the avocado mousse followed by fish in a piquant sauce could have been sawdust for all she was aware of what she was eating. Yet she could tell that Nicholas was pleased with her; the glance he had given her as they had moved into the dining room had indicated his approval of the way she had handled his guests so far. Not that it had been difficult once the tense initial meeting with Jeremy was over and she had worked out which way he had intended to play it.

  She had to admire the coolness with which he had acknowledged her presence at Nicholas' side. He smiled politely and shook her hand as if she had indeed been the casual fellow worker that he pretended to recall. 'Ah, yes, of course I remember Miss Sherwood. You worked for Saunders, didn't you?'

  She wondered what would have happened if she had not followed his lead. If she had said sweetly, 'No, that was someone else. I was your fiancée, if you remember. You said we'd get engaged when the Markham deal was over.' That would have set the cat among the pigeons. But she could not do it. Her pride would not let her make a scene, as Jeremy knew only too well. Instead she went along with the fiction, giving him a stiff smile which was all she could manage under the circumstances. 'Yes, I worked with Mr Saunders,' she agreed. 'It's good to see you again, Mr Edwards.'

  The faint stress she laid upon the word brought a quick, searching glance from Nicholas. Not much escaped him. Jeremy had the grace to look slightly taken aback, but recovered swiftly, realising probably that it was hardly in her interest to give herself away and create a scene in front of her new employer's honoured guests. 'Come now, we're all friends together tonight, so don't be formal. I'm Jeremy out of the office, remember?'

  'I remember,' she said. Remember? How could she forget? She had hoped to be Mrs Jeremy Edwards once. Now it was the slim, blonde girl, whose looks had a chocolate-box prettiness, whom he drew forward and introduced as his wife, Felicity.

  She gave Kate a vapid smile, patently uninterested in a mere secretary, and turned to look adoringly at Nicholas. She might be newly married to Jeremy, but that did not seem to stop her appreciation of another, more attractive man when he came into her sphere. And, looking at the two men standing side by side, Kate could not help agreeing with her. Jeremy's smooth, blond handsomeness seemed pale and insignificant beside Nicholas' dark, forceful features. Although the two men were of an age Jeremy was a boy in experience of the world compared with his host. And the difference showed. Nicholas had not a weak bone in his body. He knew what he wanted and took it, but never in the way that Jeremy had done. He would never marry to help himself to business success, of that Kate was sure.

  If Nicholas had any thoughts along the same lines he concealed them admirably. Jeremy and his wife might only be present to 'make up the numbers' as he had phrased it to Kate, but he gave no indication of the fact, his face expressing nothing but polite interest in his guests as he chatted casually with them and made every effort to entertain them.

  Not that it was difficult to talk to Sir Geoffrey Markham and his wife, thought Kate gratefully, as she left Nicholas to deal with Jeremy and Felicity and went to sit beside the older couple. Their daughter might be a snobbish bitch, but the Mark-hams themselves were pleasant and genuinely interested in what she had to say. It took only a few minutes to establish that Sir Geoffrey's gruff exterior was only a front to conceal the warm, caring personality underneath. He might be a tough, hard-hitting businessman in the office, she decided, but socially he was charming, and Lady Markham was as unaffected and as easy to talk to as her husband.

  'And how do you enjoy working with young Blake?' Sir Geoffrey asked Kate after he had established what her position was in Nicholas' life. 'Never a dull moment, eh?'

  She hid a smile at hearing her employer referred to as if he were a bright lad with a promising future instead of the established, highly regarded business brain that he was. 'You could say that,' she said wryly.

  'You mustn't let him bully you, my dear,' Lady Markham advised. 'These businessmen are all the same. The only way to deal with them is to stand up to them and take no nonsense from them.'

  'And does that method really work?' Kate asked laughingly.

  'It hasn't failed me in nearly thirty years of being married to one of the most temperamental specimens of the type that you're ever likely to encounter.' She threw an affectionate glance at her husband as she spoke and Kate could sense the undercurrent of real happiness that flowed between them.

  'A wife generally has more control over her husband than his secretary does,' she pointed out.

  'And a good thing too, or the office would take over completely,' Lady Markham said firmly, challenging her husband to disagree.

  He smiled, not rising to her bait, and changed the subject adroitly. 'I hear you used to work in my son-in-law's firm, Miss Sherwood?'

  'Do please call me Kate.' As she spoke the words pleasantly enough she could feel the tension in the pit of her stomach. Sir Geoffrey had never met her before; Jeremy had kept her firmly out of the way during the negotiations. But did h
e suspect something? Perhaps it was just an innocent enquiry and she was fussing about nothing. 'Yes,' she said, desperately hoping that her voice sounded unconcerned. 'I moved a few months ago.'

  'You wouldn't have done if I'd known about you, young lady,' Sir Geoffrey complimented her with heavy gallantry. 'You'd be an asset to any firm, my dear. I only hope young Blake realises what a prize he's got.'

  'He does indeed.' Kate jumped as she heard Nicholas' voice behind her and felt the warm, strangely reassuring pressure of his hands on her shoulders. 'Edwards' loss was certainly my gain.'

  Sir Geoffrey laughed. 'Always an eye for an attractive woman, eh? It's time you settled down, stopped playing the field and got married.'

  If Nicholas resented the intrusion into his private life he gave no sign of it. 'Oh, I have it in mind,' he said dismissively. 'She hasn't said she'll have me yet.'

  'Have you asked her, Nicholas? Be honest!' Lady Markham asked with a smile.

  There was an answering glint in his eye. 'Let's say that I'm biding my time.'

  'Or putting off the evil moment when you lose your freedom. You men are all the same! It took me two years to get Geoffrey to the altar.'

  There was general laughter and the subject was closed. But, as they moved into the dining room for the meal, Kate pondered over what Nicholas had said. It looked as if Diana had won after all and he had decided to marry her at last. She supposed she should feel glad that someone had outmanoeuvred him. He was dictatorial and overbearing and totally arrogant and he deserved every ounce of misery that his union with Diana would bring him. Yet, looking at the dark head bent attentively close to Lady Markham to catch a comment she had made, she knew in her heart that she could never wish Nicholas unhappiness. In that moment she admitted to herself what she supposed she had acknowledged subconsciously all along: that what she felt for him was no mere physical attraction, but love. What she had felt for Jeremy was a pale nothing compared with the way that the very sight of Nicholas set her senses ablaze and made her whole world come alive.

  Under cover of refilling her water glass she glanced at Jeremy, seated on her left, who had been careful to address the occasional remark to her rather than drawing attention by ignoring her completely, but who had devoted most of his attention to Felicity. Perhaps he thought it unwise to subject her to too much of her host's charm. It was an understandable fear, thought Kate with faint amusement, for Felicity's features were eye-catching enough and she obviously found Nicholas attractive company. And how could Jeremy's blond, rather insipid good looks compare with his host's dark sensuality? It was strange that she had never noticed Jeremy's weak chin and tight, rather repressive mouth when she had known him. One look at Nicholas revealed his strength of character in every line of his face.

  But she had got Jeremy out of her system only to be faced with an even greater dilemma. How could she go on working for Nicholas knowing how she felt about him? And how could she find an adequate excuse to explain her desire to leave? If she stayed could she bear the torment of working closely with him every day and bottling up her feelings for him? Even now she looked swiftly away from him, scared in case the sudden realisation of her love for him could be read on her face.

  He must never know how she felt about him. It had been impossible to conceal her physical response to him; he knew only too well what effect his practised caresses had upon her. But to let him become aware that he possessed her body and soul was to allow him to make her just another of his playthings to be tossed aside when he was no longer amused by her. And how he would revel in the knowledge that she, who had vowed that she was immune, had fallen victim to his charms at last! He might intend to make Diana his wife, but he would be more than prepared to have a fling with his secretary in the meantime, of that she was sure. But a brief affair with him would be as heartbreaking as nothing at all.

  She was vaguely aware of Sir Geoffrey at her side asking her a question and brought herself back to the present with a bump.

  'The food? Yes., it is good, isn't it? Only a small firm, I understand, but they're beginning to build up a reputation.'

  'Good food, good wine and, most important, good company. We've certainly got all three tonight, my dear.' He patted her hand familiarly. 'You must come over with Nicholas to us some time and we'll return the compliment.'

  'I'd be delighted to.' Kate smiled brightly at him, while inwardly determining that nothing short of wild horses would drag her to any more social occasions with her employer. She had discovered their pitfalls already.

  When the meal was over and even Sir Geoffrey's sweet tooth could not be tempted to another slice of Black Forest gateau, Kate let Nicholas usher the guests into the sitting room while she went to say a word of congratulation to the girl from the caterers and ask for coffee to be served. When he rejoined the party she was hardly surprised to see that Felicity had secured a seat next to Nicholas on the elegant, black leather sofa which dominated the room and was making a determined effort to monopolise his attention. Fortunately, whether he was conscious of her intention or not, he was far too good a host to ignore any of his guests, and by the time Kate had filled and passed round the coffee cups and dainty petits fours he had drawn the Markham family into a lively discussion of modern art, yet another subject on which, to judge by his comments, he was an expert.

  Jeremy sat slightly apart, a rather sulky expression on his face, all too obviously resenting the way in which his wife hung on Nicholas' every word. But he was wise enough to know better than to try to compete. Nicholas was a born story-teller and to listen to his account of how he tracked down a particular work by a favourite artist and persuaded its owner to part with it was to be aware of the power he held over an audience. He could make one think black was white, thought Kate, marvelling.

  'That reminds me of a time, years ago, when I had a similar sort of experience—' Sir Geoffrey, with much prompting from his wife, embarked on a longwinded account of one of his triumphs.

  Kate smiled as she slipped away to the spare room to powder her shy nose and take a moment's breathing space. Sir Geoffrey was a wonderful old man. She could never imagine anyone being scared of him. But perhaps he, like Nicholas, showed a different side of himself in the office.

  She sat down at the dressing table and was making minor repairs to her make-up when a noise at the door made her suddenly aware that she was no longer alone. Startled, she looked behind her to see a male figure lounging against the door post.

  'Well, Kate, it's been a long time.'

  'Jeremy! What do you want?'

  He smiled nastily. 'Just to congratulate you. You've certainly done well for yourself.'

  'And what exactly do you mean by that?' she asked.

  'You landed on your feet all right with Nicholas Blake to look after you. They tell me he's a generous man to those that—please him.'

  'If you're suggesting what I think you are, you're totally wrong.'

  'Oh, come on, Kate. Why bother to deny it? I saw the lovey-dovey picture of you out on the town with him the other night.' He straightened up and came towards her, perching on the corner of the dressing table and surveying her with an assessing glance which made her uncomfortably aware of the plunging neckline of her dress. 'You've blossomed out quite a lot since you worked for me, haven't you? Of course the clothes do help the sophisticated image. He's got good taste.'

  'How dare you!'

  'Are you telling me he didn't pay for the dress you're wearing? Come off it, secretaries don't earn enough to swan around in model gowns. I know quality when I see it, and Felicity makes sure I know all too well how much a dress like that costs.'

  She opened her mouth to deny the charge, then hesitated. After all, Nicholas had bought her dress. 'It's not what you think,' she said desperately, wondering why she bothered to defend herself, but knowing that she had to for the sake of her own self-respect.

  'No?' His tone was disbelieving. 'You've certainly changed since I knew you. You're not as prim and proper
as you made out, are you? You women make me sick! One word from someone with a lot of money and you fall like ninepins. I suppose I wasn't rich enough for you.'

  'As I remember,' she said, trying to keep calm, 'it was you who left me without so much as a by your-leave for the chance to feather your own nest. So don't accuse me of being a gold-digger.'

  He shrugged. 'It seemed the obvious thing to do at the time. And Felicity's no fool. She won't expect me to remain faithful to her. It suited her to marry and get away from Daddy's fuddy-duddy ideas. Marriage gave her freedom and it gave me money. Fair exchange.'

  'You're despicable!' Kate's temper flared and she flung the words at him.

  'No worse than you, my darling. I put money before principles and so did you. We're two of a kind, so why not admit it?'

  'I've nothing at all in common with you. God knows what I ever saw in you.'

  'You found me attractive. You still do. You expected me to follow you tonight—I saw the look you gave me before you left the room.'

  It was useless to maintain that she had done nothing of the sort. His conceit was enormous and, if he still believed that she felt something for him, it was going to be almost impossible to convince him otherwise. 'Look, Jeremy, I'm not interested,' she began firmly, and then got firmly to her feet and backed away as he lunged at her.

  'Playing hard to get? You always did that well enough. And I was fool enough to think you were genuine. But I know better now, don't I?' He moved forward, forcing her to retreat across the room until she felt the hard edge of her bed behind her legs and realised that he had cornered her.

  'Jeremy! Please!' She flung her hands against him in a vain effort to stop him moving any nearer, but he thrust them aside and seized her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. She fought desperately, but her struggles seemed only to excite him. Then, as she kicked out against his shins, she lost her balance and collapsed backwards on to the bed with Jeremy on top of her.