Dishonourable Proposal

by Jacqueline Baird

  Jake was lounging in the large hide chair, one hand toying with the papers on the table in front of him. He looked up at her, his eyes derisively raking her feminine frame with a blatant sexual thoroughness.

  Katy could feel a flush of awareness spreading through her body at his insulting scrutiny, and a feeling of helplessness engulfed her as she stared at him; he looked dynamic and supremely masculine, his dark jacket taut over his broad shoulders. Why was it? Of all the men she had ever met, he was the only one to have such an instant effect on her.

  She felt a tug on her arm—her father obviously wanted her to sit down. With a wry grimace she resumed her seat.

  Jake's grim voice broke the lengthening silence. 'I suggest, Katy,' he cast her a hard, contemptuous smile, 'rather than wasting your superlative talents selling your designs to Sheikh Hassan,' he mocked, 'you should have persuaded him to buy two large virtually empty apartment blocks. I have no doubt with your attributes you could have sold the man sand,' he opined silkily.

  Katy fumed at his implied insult, and the chuckles coming from across the table added fuel to her anger. 'At least I am not trying to wreck this company,' she bit out. 'Who the hell do you think you are, telling us what to do?'

  In the ensuing silence one could have heard a pin drop. Katy, still furious, looked around the table, and every man avoided her eyes, except Jake. He watched her carefully, his dark gaze threatening, but spoke to her father.

  'Shall I tell her, or will you, David?'

  Katy turned to her father, and in the next fifteen minutes the bottom dropped out of her world. All her hopes for a new career shattered into a million pieces, as with mounting horror she listened to her father's stumbling explanation.

  He had used the land on either side of the factory to enter the property market. With enormous loans he had started the construction company a few years previously; at the time property prices in London and in the Docklands in particular had been booming.

  Bad luck, bad timing. Whatever her father called it, the bottom line was that by the time the apartment blocks were completed the market had slumped. Interest rates had doubled, making the loans virtually impossible to pay backhand with only a dozen of a total of eighty apartments sold they had reached crisis point.

  Katy recognised the enormity of the problem, but she could not believe Meldenton China had to be sacrificed. Forcing herself to think clearly, and without emotion, she asked quietly, 'In view of the facts, surely only the property company is faced with liquidation, not Meldenton China?'

  "The two are indivisible,' Jake said flatly.

  Katy shot him a poisonous glance. 'A person could be forgiven for thinking it was your company, the way you have taken the chair, and done most of the talking,' she snapped.

  An unholy gleam of triumph glittered in the depths of his dark eyes. 'A person could be right,' he drawled sarcastically. 'I hold the major vote.'

  One look at her father's face and she knew Jake was telling the truth. 'How, Dad?' she demanded, shaking her head in disbelief. 'How could you?'

  Jake answered for him. 'I think your father has had enough for one morning, Katy, and I know I have. So I suggest we adjourn this discussion until tomorrow.' Glancing around the table, he continued, 'Ten tomorrow suit?' Murmurs of agreement rippled around the table. 'Good.'

  Katy stood up, shoving her chair back. She needed to get away, out of Jake's overwhelming presence, and try and make some sense of what had happened. More importantly she needed some answers from her father, who with unseemly haste was disappearing out of the room. How could he have allowed Meldenton to fall into Jake's

  hands? It didn't make sense. But as she walked to the door Jake's hand on her arm stopped her.

  'Wait, Katy.' He drew her to one side, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her upper arm, as he murmured polite adieus to the other two men.

  An odd breathlessness afflicted her as he bent his dark head towards her, for a second she had the impression he was going to haul her into his arms and kiss her. 'Let go of me,' she demanded unsteadily.

  'I will, but first I think you and I should have a talk. I can see by the expression on your lovely face that you are itching to chase after your father and badger him with questions he is in no condition to answer at the moment.'

  'And whose fault is that, I wonder?' she declared furiously. Jake was an astute businessman with his finger on the pulse of the financial world. He must have known two months ago that the firm was in trouble.

  She did not need Jake pointing out that her father had looked like a broken man when he'd left. She had recognised it, and half of her anger was directed at herself, and all her fear, confusion and frustration vented itself in a torrent of abuse against the man in front of her.

  'You have stolen his company and trampled his pride in the dust. What is it with you? Some bloody Latin vengeance because-----' She was going to say 'because he married your girlfriend' but stopped herself, instead blustering, 'Because I wouldn't obligingly go to bed with you the other night and your masculine ego can't stand rejection, hmm? Well, I still own thirty per cent of this company and I intend to fight you every step of the way.' How, she had no idea, and for a fleeting instant she wondered if she would live to make good her threat.

  Jake's face darkened thunderously, and his grip on her arm tightened till she cried out in pain. Abruptly he dropped his hand, but his black eyes burned like living coals. Never had she seen such rage.

  'Don't ever swear at me again... or you will pay for that and every other insult you have offered me a hundred times over.' The sibilant softness of his voice was more deadly than anger. 'Sit down.' He indicated a chair and moved fluidly to resume his seat at the head of the table. 'First, I do not own the company.'

  Katy's eyes widened. 'But...then what was all the liquidation business?' she burst out. She had been so smug, so self-satisfied with her new job that she had ignored all the warning signs her father had been giving out over the last few weeks. She cringed at her own stupidity. She had moved into her new apartment, and had never even questioned why only half a dozen of the others were occupied.

  'Secondly.. .1 do have the majority vote,' Jake continued, ignoring her interruption. 'I own thirty-five per cent—I bought John's shares. As the company accountant he is well aware of the dire state of the firm, and with retirement looming he was more than happy to sell.'

  'In that case,' Katy interrupted triumphantly, 'my thirty per cent and father's...' She stopped as Jake's eyes rested almost pityingly on her flushed cheeks.

  'Your father owns eighteen per cent. No more. The other seventeen per cent went to Monica in the divorce settlement, and I hold her proxy.' His dark eyes narrowed intently on her flushed face. 'Now are you ready to listen?' he asked mockingly, not bothering to disguise the triumph in his eyes.

  At the mention of her ex-stepmother all the angry indignation deserted Katy. Monica! Somehow it came as no surprise to find that woman involved in the mess at Meldenton.

  'When did you buy John's shares?' she asked.

  'Six weeks ago.'

  After the fiasco in the hotel bedroom. It did not surprise her—she had guessed as much: he was out for vengeance. For the first time in Katy's life she really sympathised with her father; he hadn't a chance against such opponents. There was nothing more to be said, and, rising to her feet, she prepared to leave with what little pride she had left.

  She searched Jake's harshly set features. 'Listen! I don't see the point.' She returned to his earlier demand. 'I know you can afford to lose what little the shares are now apparently worth without a second thought. So I am forced to conclude it suits you to put the firm in the hands of the receivers. I accept your decision.'

  Pride held her head high, but inside she was shaking, and to think this man had twice proposed marriage to her, she thought bitterly. 'You,' she almost added 'and Monica', but stopped herself in time, 'have planned this well,' she accused coldly. 'I trust you're satisfied.'

 
'Satisfied? No, but I hope to be.' Cold black eyes glittered with a calculating, sinister light. 'I could with the right encouragement be persuaded to advance the money needed to keep the firm afloat.' There was no mistaking Jake's meaning. A flick of his lashes sent his gaze skimming over her assessingly. 'I have a proposal for you.'

  The blood drained from her face; she was trembling, her hatred for the man almost choking her. She swallowed hard, and her green eyes flashed at him. 'A proposal from you.. .I would rather die than marry you,' she vowed, and, turning, she picked up her briefcase, intent on getting out of the room.

  For a long moment there was complete silence, then Jake's mocking laughter rang in her ears. What the hell was so funny? She could find nothing amusing in the situation at all. In fact she was on the verge of tears, and if she did not get away from his hateful presence soon she would lose what little self-control she had left.

  'You flatter yourself, Katy; I have no desire to marry you. If I marry it will be some young innocent female, not a shop-worn model,' he drawled silkily as his hand closed firmly over her shoulder and spun her round to face him. 'The proposal I had in mind was a way to save the factory and the china clay part of the business in Cornwall. I know you will not want the responsibility of putting so many people out of work.'

  Fury at his insult and embarrassment turned her face scarlet. What on earth had made her automatically think he wanted to marry her? Dear heaven, she groaned inwardly, she had forgotten about the employees in her agitation with Jake. Forcing her turbulent thoughts into some kind of order, she tilted her head back and looked at him sharply. At five feet nine she was no midget, but Jake towered over her like some dark avenging angel.

  Unease stirred inside her; an inexplicable dread. There was no trace of the laughing companion of her youth in his austere features—she could not read this man at all. But she owed it to the people who worked at Meldenton to hear what he had to say. 'All right, I will listen to your plan,' she acquiesced, swallowing her anger.

  'It's quite simple. I will personally purchase the two apartment buildings from the company. This would solve the cash-flow problem, and Meldenton China would operate as it always has.'

  Confused, she surveyed him. 'And that's it...'

  One dark brow arched sardonically, a ruthless smile curving his sensuous mouth. 'Not quite. I said earlier I had no desire to marry you. But I do desire you, Katy...

  In return for saving the firm and your father's good name, you will become my mistress.'

  She stared at him, her strained features reflecting her shocked horror. He could not be serious. Her lips parted. 'That is blackmail...' she whispered.

  'Call it what you will, Katy, but that's the deal,' Jake responded hardily, not in the least fazed by her condemnation. 'Take it or leave it.' And, withdrawing a card from his inside jacket pocket, he pressed it into her numb hand. 'My address; any time after six this evening I will be available. At nine tomorrow morning I will call the receivers' office. You have until then to make your decision.'

  It was unthinkable. Jake meant to use her, humiliate her, so why was she standing like an idiot, listening to him? Her eyes searched his face, looking for some sign, some indication that it was just a terrible joke, but she could see nothing in his expression but ruthless determination.

  She shrank back from him, her body frozen with shock and, though she hated to admit it, fear. Fear of herself, because for one brief moment the thought of sharing Jake's bed, his magnificent body, had stirred an unwanted response inside her. 'Why?' she protested thickly as his hands moved around her waist, drawing her towards him.

  'Because you're here, available, and you owe me...'

  His dark head bent and his mouth moved over hers with determined expertise. His hands slid down her back to cup her buttocks and pull her hard against his thighs. A shocked gasp escaped her and she trembled as the evidence of his masculine arousal pressed against her flat stomach. His mouth quickly grasped the advantage as his tongue thrust savagely between her parted lips, demanding she accept and abandon herself to the sweet torture of his touch.

  Desire and disgust fought inside her; a surging tide of excitement swept through her love-starved body. She must not let him know how easily he could reduce her to the wanton he had so often called her, she told herself, but it was a hopeless task. Her body, with a will of its own, pressed against his hard frame; her full lips softened and clung to his. As he held her with one hand his other hand slid inside her jacket, stroking her full breast through the fine silk of her blouse.

  'Oops! Sorry.'

  Jake let her go abruptly, and for a moment she was hopelessly disorientated—she had not heard her father enter the room. She flushed scarlet, and hastily adjusted her jacket. Jake, damn him, was standing a foot away without a hair out of place.

  'Thank God you two are still friends,' her father said with feeling. 'I know I can trust you to look after Katy.'

  'Don't be silly, Dad, I can look after myself,' she burst out impetuously.

  'Yes, well, maybe, but Jake here is a fine man, and my one regret in this bloody mess is that I didn't seek his help months ago. I'm too far under now to get out, but I know Jake will do the best he can for us.'

  For himself, Katy thought bitterly. Was her father really such a fool, so blind, as to trust Jake?

  'I promise, David, I will save as much of Meldenton as I can,' Jake said suavely, his dark eyes flashing a brief message of triumph at Katy before he centred his attention on her father. 'And now you must excuse me— I have another appointment.'

  Jake stopped, his hand on the doorknob; across the room their eyes clashed, and she saw the knowing smile of masculine triumph in his. He was perfectly aware he could elicit a sexual response from her with one kiss. His dark eyes challenged her to deny him. 'Damn him!' she swore under her breath; she hated him, but she could not hold his gaze and, lowering her head, she pretended a terrific interest in the table-top...

  'I'll see you later, Katy. Ciao.' And with a casual wave of a hand he left.

  With Jake gone, Katy turned jaundiced eyes upon her father. It was obvious he had been hitting the whisky bottle—she could smell the fumes from two feet away. She sighed; he had been drinking a lot over the last few weeks. Another sign of trouble she had ignored.

  Suddenly the enormity of what had happened threatened to overwhelm her and she felt moisture sting her eyes. Deep down in some secret part of her she had nursed the forlorn hope that maybe she was wrong about Jake, and he was the honourable man she had first thought him, but she could fool herself no longer.

  She crossed to her father and linked her arm in his. 'Come on, Dad, I'll drive you home. We may as well take the rest of the day off.' And, unless she became Jake's mistress, the rest of their lives off, she thought bitterly.

  She blamed herself—she should have paid more attention to her father in the past. If only she had visited him more often, if only she had insisted on being involved in the business, if only she had not let Jake and Monica chase her away... 'If only' was the most futile expression in the English language, she thought morosely, and, taking her father's car-keys, she slid into the driving seat of the Jaguar. She waited while her father settled into the passenger-seat, started the engine and drove off.

  'I'm sorry, Katy, terribly, terribly sorry. I betrayed your trust, my own little girl, my family.'

  Katy listened with scant attention to her father's ramblings, concentrating instead on driving through the heavy London traffic. She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally reached the town house, and parked the car. 'Have a drink with me, Katy. I don't want to be on my own today. A wake for Meldenton China, hmm?'

  The defeated tone of her father's voice hurt her more than she wanted to admit, and, scraping up the semblance of a smile, she agreed. Jake's ultimatum was thrust to the back of her mind. For the first time in her life her father appeared to need her. It was ironic that he had to be virtually destroyed and half drunk before admitting the fact. />
  She followed her father into the study, and stopped, her eyes widening in surprise. Her mother's portrait was hanging over the ornate mahogany mantelpiece. Monica had removed it when she was in residence, and Katy wondered who had replaced it. Surely not her father?

  Her father noted the direction of her gaze and with a half-smile he walked to the drinks cabinet and filled two crystal glasses with Glenfiddich whisky. He returned to her side and held out one glass. She took it from his hand and, raising it to her lips, took a large swallow. Dear God, she needed it...

  'Lydia was a beautiful woman, Katy. You are very like her. She was the only woman I ever loved.'

  Katy turned astonished eyes to her father. She had actually been feeling some sympathy for him, but his blatant lies were a bit too much for her to stomach. Walking over to a large leather chesterfield, she sank down into its welcoming depth. She had not forgotten her father's girlfriends, or Monica, his second wife, though he seemed to have conveniently done so, she thought wryly.

  She watched him drain his glass, and immediately refill it. Agreeing to share a drink with him had not been such a good idea, and she wished she were back in her own apartment. Her head ached abominably, and the drink on her empty stomach was doing her no good at all.

  'I don't suppose you remember, but when we were first married we lived in this house, and we were happy. You were three when we decided the town was no place for a child, and you and Lydia went to my father's house in Cornwall. We were happy there as well, at least for a while. I can remember you running down the path to meet me every Friday evening. I would pick you up in my arms and twirl you around, and you laughed; always you laughed...'