by Helen Brooks
It took Kim a good deal longer to get her unregenerate thoughts under lock and key, but once she had succeeded she determined they wouldn’t escape again. Lucas Kane could prance around naked if he so desired and she wouldn’t turn a hair, she told herself on the drive home that evening.
She had to admit he had a certain something, a darkly seductive something—in fact it was a relief to acknowledge it and bring it out into the open, she assured herself firmly. He was a compellingly attractive man—most powerful, wealthy men had an aura that set them apart from the crowd—but it didn’t make them easy to live with or likeable.
And she didn’t have to like him; as long as she could respect his business acumen and flair and enjoy her work, that was all she wanted. His lifestyle and the way he conducted his personal relationships was absolutely no concern of hers; the fact that he embodied everything she most disliked in a man in that area didn’t mean she couldn’t work with him. He saw her as part of the office machinery, not a woman, and that made all the difference.
She was well satisfied with her reasoning by the time she drew up outside the school gates and parked the car, walking down the concrete drive and standing to one side of the big wooden doors as the first desultory snowflakes began to fall out of a laden sky.
By the time Melody emerged with one or two other children—the teacher standing just behind them and checking each child had its respective escort—the snow was coming down in thick fat white flakes that sent the children into transports of delight.
‘Mummy, it’s really snowing!’ Melody danced up to her, her small face alight. ‘Can we build a snowman in the garden?’
‘Maybe tomorrow, if it snows enough,’ Kim agreed warmly. The cottage had a delightful garden with a large lawn surrounded by mature trees and shrubs, and Melody had already commandeered a small corner of it, announcing she was going to plant her own herb garden in the spring.
She would, too, Kim thought fondly as they walked to the car. Anything she set her mind to, Melody did; her small daughter was bubbling over with confidence and vitality and thankfully had no memory of the last terrible months Graham had put them through before he had died.
She refused to dwell on thoughts of her late husband, concentrating on Melody and asking her small daughter about her day, but once Melody was in bed and the cottage was quiet she found the memories flooding in in spite of all her efforts to shut them out.
She had thought she loved Graham—she had been sure she loved him—but the old adage that said you never knew someone until you lived with them had certainly been true in her husband’s case, she reflected bitterly.
The handsome, bright, only son of aged doting parents, Graham had been spoilt outrageously from the cradle. In spite of their fairly limited means, Graham’s parents had endeavoured to give their charismatic offspring everything he wanted, even financing the one-man business he had set up after finishing university, although it had taken every last penny they had.
She hadn’t been aware of that at the time; she hadn’t been aware of many things which had come to light after Graham’s death.
She hadn’t known he had a drink problem at university—everyone drank, it was part of the culture, and Graham had been adept at hiding his addiction from her. And by the time it became apparent he was an alcoholic she had been pregnant with Melody and desperate to make her marriage work for the sake of their unborn baby.
Graham’s business had failed almost immediately—it couldn’t have done anything else with the lack of time and effort he had put into it—and with his parents unable to bail him out he had started borrowing from all and sundry, using his compelling charm and attractiveness to get him what he needed. He had always had the ability to be irresistible when he had put his mind to it.
Kim glanced up suddenly from the task of darning the hole in the pocket of Melody’s school coat.
Irresistible. The word had suddenly switched on a light in her mind and now she understood why she was thinking of Graham after months of being able to shut him out. ‘They all seem to find him irresistible.’ Those were the very words June had used about Lucas.
Kim’s soft mouth straightened into a hard line and her dark brown eyes narrowed unseeingly across the cosy sitting room. ‘They’ all might find Lucas Kane irresistible, but this was one female who had received very powerful antibodies against such a disease, she told herself savagely, acknowledging in the same instant that the little episode in Lucas’s office that morning had bothered her more than she had admitted.
He was the first man who had even remotely stirred her sexual awareness since Graham had died, but now she had recognised the fact and the danger it represented she would be on her guard against herself twenty-four hours a day. It wasn’t that she thought he would be interested in her in a personal way—she almost laughed out loud at the thought of the ruthless and focused Lucas Kane harbouring romantic inclinations towards his secretary—but she didn’t want to be attracted to any man, ever again, and certainly not one cast in Graham’s mould.
She had never told anyone about those last awful twelve months with Graham, the humiliations she had suffered at his hands, and she never would. She didn’t have to. She was answerable to no one and that was the way she liked it. Melody was the only important thing in her life and, thanks to this new job—she couldn’t bring herself to say thanks to Lucas Kane—she was going to be able to give her daughter the kind of lifestyle she hadn’t imagined was remotely in her grasp just a few months ago. And nothing—nothing—must interfere with that.
She nodded sharply to herself, her eyes focusing once more on the small red coat in her hands, and as she set to again with renewed vigour her lips were still drawn uncharacteristically tight.
The next morning there were several inches of snow and the world had been transformed into a winter wonderland, much to Melody’s delight, but the BMW regally ignored such trifles as snow-packed roads and icy conditions.
Once Kim had dropped Melody off and was on her way to work she found herself thinking, as she had done more than once in the last few weeks, how fortunate she was to have such a powerful and comfortable car at her disposal. No more struggling along glassy pavements with wet feet or sitting in a cold bus which had arrived late and was filled with the musty smell of damp humanity.
As usual Lucas was already in his office when she arrived. She had the feeling that if she went into work at five in the morning she would still find him there.
She assumed the routine the hiccup yesterday had interrupted, taking his coffee into him once she had divested herself of her coat and quickly smoothed her hair in her small cloakroom.
‘Good morning, Kim.’ He didn’t raise his head from the report he was studying as he spoke and his voice was polite and cool.
Kim answered in the same vein, placing the tray on the desk and forcing herself to walk smoothly out of the office without allowing her glance to linger on the dark bent head and harshly carved lines of his face, but, annoyingly, she found her heart was beating a tattoo as she sat down in front of her word processor and the hand that raised her coffee to her lips was shaking slightly.
She was glad they had reverted to the businesslike working relationship of the previous weeks, of course she was, she told herself silently. So why did she feel his cool remoteness was almost like a slap across the face? Ridiculous. She nodded irritably to the thought. She was being absolutely ridiculous—it must be the time of the month or something.
She grimaced to herself, drank the coffee in several burningly hot gulps and got down to work.
At five past ten Kim put through a call from the managing director of Clarkson International, and at ten past Lucas put his head round the door. ‘One of those tapes on your desk is a breakdown of the Clarkson contract so far. Concentrate on that first, would you, Kim? I need it for twelve. And we’re lunching with them today at one, by the way, so book a table for four at Fontella’s.’
Kim stared at him, her mind racing. ‘
Do you mean you want me to accompany you?’ she asked politely, her face and voice hiding all signs of agitation.
‘Yes, and you’ll need to bring your notebook and pencil, and get a financial report from Accounts. We might need that.’ He was totally in work mode, his distant voice indicating he was thinking about several things at once. She had noticed that about him before; it was one of the many accomplishments he had that added to the notion he wasn’t quite human.
‘Right.’ She nodded efficiently and then, once the door had closed again, sat staring vacantly across the room. A business lunch with clients, that was all it was. She could handle this. This sort of thing was going to happen time and time again so she might as well get used to it.
The breakdown was on Lucas’s desk at half-past eleven and Kim was waiting—outwardly serene and inwardly disturbed and uptight—at twelve-thirty when he buzzed her to say they were leaving. Her stomach muscles had tightened as the deep dark voice came over the intercom, but when he emerged from his office a few moments later she was all cucumber-cool efficiency.
‘We’re meeting them at Fontella’s so I’d like to get there a few minutes early.’ He took her arm as he spoke, ushering her out of the door with his usual fast, capable way of doing things. She caught a whiff of the expensive aftershave he wore, the feel of his height and breadth all around her as they entered the lift at the end of the corridor, and it was then she carefully moved away and put a little space between them.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I’m sorry?’ She stared at him as he leant against the carpeted panelling and looked at her quizzically, but she couldn’t stop her cheeks flushing with colour. She had thought her cautious withdrawal had been sufficiently diplomatic and discreet to be unnoticed, but she might have know that razor-sharp brain would have detected it.
‘You didn’t like me touching you,’ he stated evenly, his narrowed eyes like twin points of silver light. ‘Why? Is it me or are you the same with all men?’
Any other man, any other man, might have registered her unease but wouldn’t have confronted her on it. The thought hit Kim at the same time as the hostility at his astute assessment of her, and her voice was icy when she said, in direct answer to the challenge, ‘I don’t like physical contact, as it happens.’
‘I’ll forgo the joke about your daughter being born through immaculate conception,’ he drawled drily, ‘and repeat my question. Do you have a problem with me, Kim? If so, it needs to be brought out into the open and dealt with. I’m not in the habit of jumping on unsuspecting females; neither do I believe in mixing work and pleasure. Is that plain enough for you?’
This was awful, horrific. Kim had never felt so embarrassed in her life. She stared at him and then as the lift glided gently to a halt she saw the gleam in his eyes. It could have been anger, it could have been irritation or a whole host of things, but to her utter humiliation she rather suspected it was dark amusement. And if nothing else it restored her fighting spirit in a way nothing else could have done.
‘I really don’t know what you are talking about,’ she said with painful self-dignity. ‘I merely stated that I don’t like physical contact, that’s all.’
‘I don’t consider taking your arm physical contact in any real meaning of the words.’ It was cool, firm and completely without emotion. ‘So you had better get used to it, okay? I’m not about to watch every movement I make in case I offend you, Kim, so get your head round that and save us both a lot of trouble.’
Her mouth had widened slightly in a little O of surprise and when the lift doors opened in the next instant and his cool hand cupped her elbow she offered no resistance at all. They were through Reception and out into the front car park within seconds, and he guided her over to the gleaming Aston Martin without speaking, opening the passenger door for her with a courtesy she suspected was entirely natural.
Kim sank into the luxurious confines of the powerful car and watched him helplessly as he walked round the sleek low bonnet. She hated him. She really hated him, she told herself bitterly. He was the most unfeeling, callous, hard brute of a man she had ever met—and that included Graham. No amount of money was worth this.
‘Kim?’
She had continued staring straight ahead, her cheeks burning, after he had slid into the car, and when after a long moment or two he spoke, very softly, her head jerked in surprise to meet the silver-grey of his eyes.
‘I handled that very badly. I’m sorry,’ Lucas said quietly.
If the ground had suddenly opened beneath them and engulfed the car she couldn’t have been more surprised.
‘You hit me on the raw,’ he admitted softly. ‘I didn’t like being put in the position of feeling like some sexual pervert. I’ve never had that happen to me before.’
‘Lucas, I…’ She had gone all hot inside and had never felt more out of her depth. It wasn’t just his apology, surprising though it was, but the disturbing fact that he was closer than he had ever been and his overall maleness was swamping her to a point where she felt breathless.
He was so big and dark and masculine and in this present mood, with his deep voice slightly husky and smoky and his amazing eyes intent on her face, the magnetism that was an intrinsic part of his dangerous attractiveness was heightened tenfold.
‘Was it your marriage?’ he asked, with a gentleness she would have sworn he was incapable of.
Oh, hell, what did she say now? She said the only thing she could in view of the fact that he had abased himself so utterly. ‘Yes.’ It was tight and stiff. ‘It was my marriage.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He really sounded as though he was, but, having turned to look through the windscreen once more, Kim didn’t dare meet those devastating arctic eyes again. ‘It’s all right.’ It was inane but all she could manage. ‘Shouldn’t we go now?’
‘Did he hurt you? Physically, I mean?’ There was a strange note in Lucas’s voice and Kim wasn’t to know her ruthless, cold, unemotional boss was in the grip of feelings new to him.
The silence stretched and lengthened until it was so taut Kim felt she would either scream or faint. She did neither, merely saying, in a small, chilled little voice, ‘I don’t want to be rude but I can’t discuss it, Lucas.’
She didn’t expect him to let it go without a fight but he surprised her for the second time in as many minutes when he started the engine without another word, pulling out of the company car park with a savagery that made the car growl as he murmured, ‘Without knowing any of the facts, and in direct variance to the notion that you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, I’d say you were well rid of the—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘You’re well rid of Mr Allen,’ he finished tightly.
How right he was. She gave a peculiar little laugh. ‘I know it.’
‘How did it happen?’ For a moment she glanced at him, at the harsh set face frowning at the road ahead, uncertain of what he was asking. ‘How did he die?’ Lucas asked abruptly. ‘Your application form merely stated “deceased”.’
‘It was an accident.’ She didn’t want to continue this.
She was aware of the piercing eyes flashing over her face although she was looking straight ahead again, and his voice had the smoky quality that was so disturbing when he said, ‘Car?’
‘No.’ They were in mainstream traffic now but, in spite of their conversation, the frantic rush hour busyness and the fact that it had begun to snow again making the difficult driving conditions even more treacherous, all Kim was conscious of was hard male thighs just on the perimeter of her visions and firm capable tanned hands on the leather steering wheel. And the smell of him. Whatever aftershave he was using it should be banned as downright dangerous to a woman’s state of mind, she told herself silently. But perhaps it wouldn’t smell the same on anyone else.
‘Graham cut an artery when he fell through a shop window.’ A full thirty seconds had crept by in screaming expectation and Kim couldn’t take the pressure any more. ‘He was drunk,’ s
he finished flatly.
‘Usual occurrence?’ The silver light moved over her briefly.
For a man who used words so sparingly he certainly made every one count, Kim thought resentfully. ‘Yes,’ she said hollowly.
‘And now you want to talk about something else.’
She had wanted to talk about something else from the moment she had got into the car! Kim sucked in a shaky breath and kept her trembling hands tightly clasped in her lap. ‘If you don’t mind,’ she said numbly.
Lucas nodded slowly. ‘Tell me about your daughter.’ And his cool voice didn’t betray he was as surprised by the request as Kim was.
‘Melody?’ Kim was startled into glancing at him and he met her big brown eyes for a second, his own thick black lashes hiding his expression in the next instant.
‘Unusual name. Your choice?’ he asked easily.
The scent of his male warmth was unnerving her more and more in the close confines of the powerfully virile car, forcing her to acknowledge her own awareness of him with a tenacity she couldn’t escape. ‘It was a long labour, difficult.’ She didn’t add that Graham had been out on a drinking binge and had only arrived at the hospital the following morning. ‘One of the nurses was very sweet to me; she was Jamaican. Her name was—’
‘Melody.’ He finished the sentence for her.
Kim nodded. ‘But it suits Melody,’ she said quietly. ‘She’s a happy little girl, always singing and laughing.’
There was a warmth—a sweetness—to Kim’s voice when she spoke of her daughter that Lucas hadn’t heard before, and suddenly he was the one who wanted to change the subject.
‘I’m sure she is,’ he said evenly. ‘Now, let me just run through the prime objective of this meeting before we meet Jim Clarkson and his son.’
Kim listened quietly as he expounded further, but inside she was so churned up half of what he said flowed straight over her head.