The Price of a Wife

by Helen Brooks

  'Thank you.' Josie nodded and then reached for her briefcase, extracting a few papers from within and studying them while she waited, really to give her hands something to do as she fought the inclination to be intimidated.

  At exactly nine o'clock the door to his office opened and she heard his voice from within just as the most voluptuous brunette she had seen in a long time sauntered out.

  'I'll see you tonight, Catherine. I really can't discuss it any longer this morning. I have an appointment at nine and I shall be tied up all day.' He appeared in the doorway as he finished speaking, glancing across at Josie impatiently. 'Good. You're here. Come through.'

  'Bye, then, darling. See you later.' The brunette's voice was a low drawl, the glance she gave Josie dismissive.

  Josie switched her mind to automatic as she walked through into Luke's office, but the incident had made her back stiffen with hurt pride and confirmed everything she had thought about the big, dark man in front of her. She had been right not to get involved with him, so right, she thought grimly as she seated herself in the large chair in front of his huge desk. She would have been one tiny notch in his belt, that was all.

  'Good morning.' She knew her voice was cold but she didn't care.

  'Good morning.' He flung himself down in the massive leather chair with his back to the window, the white sunlight streaming in through the plate glass and turning his face to shadow. 'That was my—'

  'Shall we get started?' she interrupted coolly. He needn't spell it out; she knew exactly who that female was, and if he thought he was going to rub her nose in it to punish her for her behaviour on Friday night he could forget it. 'I know you're a busy man.'

  'Josie—'

  'I'm here to do the job you are paying Top Promotions a fortune to do,' she said icily as her stomach clenched in a giant knot. 'And that is the only reason I'm here.'

  'For crying out loud, woman—'

  'Do you want to see the plans and figures?' she asked hotly as her control slipped a little. 'I thought it was so urgent I had to be here at the crack of dawn?'

  He stared at her for a long moment, muttered something that sounded incredibly rude under his breath, then took in a hard, rasping pull of air through his clenched teeth. 'Fine. If that's the way you want it, fine,' he said tightly. 'What the hell I bothered for in the first place I don't know—'

  'No one asked you to bother.' She stared at him, willing the tears that were welling in a hard lump under her breastbone under control. She would not cry in front of him; she would not. 'According to you I got this job on the merit of my work, and I can assure you that I'll give you one hundred per cent effort at all times. I do find it difficult to work miracles at times, whatever Mike says, but I'm trying…' She bit down on her lip as she felt her voice shake and couldn't continue.

  When he stood up and moved round the desk she tensed, expecting him to touch her, remonstrate with her—some-thing. But he merely walked straight out of the room, leaving her alone as he closed the door firmly behind him.

  She sat for long minutes as she brought her emotions and temper under control again, horrified at what she had said and done. He must think she was some sort of nutcase, she thought miserably. Neurotic, unbalanced—

  As the door opened again it cut off her thoughts like a dash of icy water and she nerved herself to look up.

  'Coffee?' He was carrying a tray, and from the horrified expression on his secretary's face as she carefully shut the door behind him it was a first for him. Multi-millionaires don't often fetch their own coffee, Josie thought on a burst of hysteria that she squashed immediately.

  'Yes, thank you.' He had given her a chance to recover, she knew that, and she ought to apologise for her behaviour. She knew that too, but she didn't trust her voice enough yet.

  They drank the coffee in silence, and although she was more uncomfortable than she had ever been in her life the hot liquid did help to steady her nerves. 'Luke, I'm sorry. That was very unprofessional,' she said quietly as she placed the empty cup on the tray.

  'Forget it.' His voice wasn't unkind but it was distant. 'If you're ready, we'll go through those queries now.'

  And that set the tone for the hour she spent with him. He was cool and reserved and very correct, and, although she knew that that was the way it had to be, needed to be, for her to continue to work for him, that inconsistent quirk of her emotions that had reared its head more than once where he was concerned had her feeling miserable.

  She gathered her papers together just before ten, outwardly calm and inwardly more confused than ever, and once she had packed them away stood up quickly, her face straight.

  'Thank you for all your hard work, Josie.' He had stood up too, and now reached across the desk and shook her hand, his grip firm and friendly, nothing more. 'I'm sure it's all going to come together beautifully.'

  'I shall make sure it does.' She smiled carefully. 'Goodbye for now.'

  'Goodbye.'

  She could feel his eyes boring into her back as she crossed the room on legs that mercifully obeyed her, nodding to the secretary in the outer room with a composure that was all feigned before hurrying to the lift in the corridor outside. It was empty, and once she had pushed the button and it had begun to move downwards she leant against the carpeted wall and closed her eyes tightly, biting on her lip painfully.

  What on earth had possessed her to react like that to his girlfriend? She had been stupid, so stupid… She groaned out loud and pressed her hands to her hot cheeks. Who he saw and when was absolutely nothing to do with her. He was a free agent, as free as a bird. She'd had no right to cause such a scene.

  She still couldn't believe she'd behaved like that, she thought dismally, bending down and picking up the briefcase as the lift slid to a halt, and taking a deep breath before she walked into the vast reception area of Hawkton Enterprises. Unprofessional wasn't the word…

  She continued to feel wretched all that day, but as the week progressed the embarrassment and humiliation faded a little, and she was able to think of the incident without wishing the floor would open and swallow her whole—just.

  Friday morning came and went, and by the evening she had acknowledged to herself that he wasn't going to ring her and that she was glad. Glad, she repeated fiercely to herself as she rode home by taxi at the sensible time of six-o'clock.

  Saturday she spent cleaning the flat from top to bottom, before going out with friends in the evening to an exclusive nightclub where the cost of food and drink was astronomical and the DJ leered at her all night.

  Sunday was no better. Owing to the fact that she had been unable to get to sleep until the sun had been well and truly in the sky, she slept till late afternoon, when she awoke with a sickening headache to the sound of someone banging on the door. It was only then that she remembered she had invited a friend round; she had just passed through a particularly messy divorce and had come for an evening of encouragement and commiseration.

  She worked hard the next week, throwing herself into the project with a single-mindedness that earnt approval from Mike and Andy and faint awe from Penny. But as usual work proved the therapy she needed. She spoke to Luke twice by telephone over that time and the calls were formal and businesslike; nevertheless the deep, husky voice left her trembling and flushed for a good hour after they had finished.

  A blazing hot June gave way to a sultry, humid July, and when, on the second of that month, exactly a month after the first fateful meeting in Mike's office, she received a late afternoon call from Luke suggesting that she fly out to his home in the South of France to familiarise herself with the house and grounds, she found she could answer with only a trace of breathlessness in her voice.

  'Yes, I was going to suggest something like that myself within the next week or two. I think we're just about ready for the next stage now, and it would be good to meet the French caterers face to face and iron out every detail there.'

  'Right.' Luke's voice was remote, almost expressionless
. 'I'll come with you. There are certain points I want to pick up on myself, and it might be useful if I'm there to smooth the way in the preliminaries.'

  'There's really no need for that.' She had spoken too sharply and too quickly, and she forced her voice into a lower, smoother pitch as she continued. 'I know how busy you are, and things are well in hand, I promise. The fair is already booked for three days—the day preceding and following the launch as well as the launch day itself—and the ice rink will be constructed at the end of September, I don't think—'

  'Be that as it may, I shall feel happier accompanying you.' This time the dark voice left no room for protest. 'If we fly out on the seventh and return a couple of days later will that suit you?'

  'Yes.' Her tone said no. 'But I don't feel it's necessary for you to have to put yourself out like this. I'm sure—'

  'Josie…' His voice was patient, insultingly so. 'What I like and do not like is now your problem, OK? And what I like at the moment is a trip to France on the seventh. So, we go to France on the seventh.'

  She held the receiver slightly away from her ear as she staled at it, hard. So he hadn't forgotten the haughty words she had thrown at him at the first meeting weeks ago, she told herself silently. The irony of them had crossed her mind more than once since she had started working for him, but she had hoped, in her naivety, she acknowledged bitterly, that he had put them out of his mind. But she might have known… She glared at the receiver now. That computer he called a mind wouldn't forget or forgive any slight to the great Luke Hawkton, would it? And it was just like him to bring it up now.

  'Josie?' The tone was cold. 'Did you hear what I said?'

  'Yes, I heard you.' She took a deep breath. She could have counted to ten several times as he waited for her reply, but she still needed another few seconds to bring her voice under perfect control. 'The seventh.'

  'My secretary will be in touch with the flight details,' he continued smoothly, 'and I would like you to bring all the necessary paraphernalia regarding the ice rink—we can formalise that too while we're there.'

  'Right,' she said flatly, her voice short.

  'And don't sulk.' There was that tinge of amusement in his voice which she had recognised more than once in his dealings with her, and which grated unbearably. 'You are a worldly-wise, forceful career woman by your own admission, and such women don't throw tantrums, Josie—or didn't you know?' he added wickedly.

  'I wouldn't dream of throwing a tantrum,' she answered immediately, her voice outraged. 'And I never sulk.'

  'I will take that with an enormous pinch of salt,' he returned drily. 'Goodbye for now.' He had replaced the receiver his end before she could formulate her fury into words, which was probably just as well, she reflected later, after her anger had cooled.

  And that annoying trait in her character, honesty, forced her to admit that what he had said was absolutely right too.

  Business women of her calibre didn't sulk—it just wasn't done in the marketplace—but somehow with this man all her cool constraint and tight discipline went flying out of the window as soon as he opened his mouth. Why did he get under her skin like this? she asked herself helplessly as she finished the last of the work on her desk and prepared to leave the office. Why, why, why?

  'Hear you're taking a trip on the seventh.' Andy popped his head round her door as she clipped the lock on her briefcase shut. 'With Luke Hawkton, to look over the site,' he added meaningfully.

  'So it would seem,' she answered a trifle absently as she reached for a big folder, her mind far away with the problem it had been gnawing at for the last hour or so, since Luke's phone call—namely, the man himself. 'How did you know?'

  'I was informed by his esteemed secretary,' Andy said a little testily. 'That woman has got a real way with her, hasn't she?' He grimaced disapprovingly as he shook his head.

  'You want to meet her in the flesh,' Josie said drily.

  'No, funnily enough, I don't.' Andy grinned at her, then his face straightened. 'Just watch your step with him, won't you? That's all. I know he's an old friend of Mike's but that's no recommendation, frankly.'

  'Watch my step?' She stared at Andy in amazement. 'What do you mean?'

  'You know what I mean,' he said uncomfortably. 'Now, I'm not insinuating anything about your morals, Josie-far from it—but if just a quarter of what is said about the guy is true he's got quite a way with the women, and you know the temptations on these trips. Things can just… happen.'

  'Nothing, but nothing is going to 'just happen', Andy, I can assure you,' Josie said firmly, not quite sure whether to be touched by his obvious concern or annoyed at his assumption that she was unable to deal with a pass from the opposite sex. 'I have met quite a few Luke Hawktons in my time.'

  'Oh, no, you haven't.' Andy stated at her from under beetling brows. 'You definitely haven't, so don't underestimate the guy, Josie. He's ruthless and hard and quite single-minded when he wants something. There's more than one man who would think twice before tangling with Hawkton Enterprises, I can assure you.'

  'You're talking about business,' Josie said quietly. 'That is quite different from how he deals with women, I'm sure.'

  'I wish I was.' Andy moved across and stood in front of her, his round face troubled. 'Look, Josie, I'm old enough to be your father—nearly your grandfather,' he added wryly, 'and I've known you for a good few years now. You keep yourself to yourself and that's fine, I'm not knocking it, but where someone like Luke Hawkton is concerned…' He scratched his grey head as he searched for the right words. 'Well, I just want you to be aware of the pitfalls.'

  'I don't know what happened in your life before you came here but I do know that since you've worked for me you haven't spread it around. You haven't had time, for one thing,' he added ruefully. 'You're a first-class employee and I appreciate that—it's rare these days—but I look on you as a friend too and I know that, whatever front you like to put on to the rest of the world, underneath you're as soft as butter. Am I wrong?' he asked abruptly as her face turned scarlet.

  'I—' She didn't know what to say; he had taken her completely by surprise. 'Andy—'

  'I don't want to see you get hurt, Josie.' Now the velvet brown eyes were definitely concerned. 'You've been on edge ever since you came back from that Germany trip, and it's the first time I've seen you like this. Now, it could just be the enormity of the job, but I don't think so.' He eyed her soberly. 'And I don't intend to pry either.'

  'Just watch yourself, that's all I'm saying, and I hope you take this in the spirit in which it's meant I'm only concerned for you, girl. I might be something of a slave-driver, but underneath this gruff exterior beats a heart of pure gold.' He grinned at her as he attempted to finish the conversation on a lighter note.

  'Most people would say steel.' She smiled too, although his words had shaken hear more than she cared to admit. 'And don't worry, Andy; I haven't reached the great age of twenty-eight without learning how to duck and dive a little.'

  'Good.' He patted her on the arm before walking to the door. 'But do me a favour and take a few more boxing lessons before the seventh, OK? Get the ducking and diving technique you mentioned polished, eh?'

  Josie stated after him for a long, long time after he had left. Yes, she'd do that. She would be a fool not to.

  That conversation was at the forefront of her mind the following Monday morning as she boarded the plane, with Luke big and dark at her side. His chauffeur had arrived for her at the fiat earlier that morning before driving on to Hawkton Enterprises, explaining as he did so that an unforeseen emergency had detained Mr Hawkton, who sent his apologies. They had reached the airport with minutes to spare, but their path had been smoothed with the oil of power and wealth, which had got them to their seats with consummate ease.

  Josie had never travelled business class before, but she was determined not to let it show, accepting the overall luxury and comfort as though she'd been born to it.

  'Comfortable?' As she sipped
her iced mineral water she nodded primly in answer to Luke's question, permitting herself a cool smile as she did so.

  'Very, although you really needn't have got me a seat with you; I'd have been fine in Economy.'

  'Are you trying to annoy me, Josie?' The tone was mild, his eyes anything but.

  'Of course not.' Her colour had risen but there was nothing to do but ignore it. 'But as your employee I don't expect—'

  'I don't know what kind of clowns you usually deal with, but my employees—' there was a faint emphasis on the last word '—travel with me or not at all. Got it?' he asked grimly.

  'You're very generous.' She managed a tight smile through gritted teeth. 'Would you like to look at the modifications to the sketches for the ice rink?'

  'No.' He eyed her darkly. 'I would like to put my head back and sleep. I was in my office until ten last night and back there at five this morning, and the previous week wasn't much better, so if it's all the same to you…?' He adjusted his seat, undid his jacket and loosened his tie then leant back, closing his eyes as he settled his big frame more comfortably.

  She waited until her breathing had returned to normal and then dared a look at the relaxed masculine figure at her side. The hard jaw already bore a dark shadow, and just under the deft in his chin she could see a tiny cut where he had nicked himself shaving. For some reason that little indication of susceptibility, the knowledge that he was as vulnerable as the next human being in certain situations, brought an ache to her lower stomach and a constriction in her breathing that made her hands damp.

  She tried to tear her eyes away but found herself surveying him hungrily in spite of herself—the way his thick, short eyelashes brushed the tanned skin, the heaviness of his brows, the web of laughter lines fanning from the corners of his closed eyes. It was a male face, sensual, virile—

  'Can I get you anything?' The smooth, cool voice of the stewardess brought her eyes snapping upwards, and she blushed as hotly as if she had been caught doing something indecent, her cheeks burning until they matched the colour of her hair.