Passionate Revenge

by Sally Wentworth

  'Do you? Or do you just prefer to keep a clear head when discussing business?'

  'That too,' Zara admitted. 'And I have a lot of work to get through this afternoon.'

  'You must have already worked very hard to be the managing director of such a successful company at such a comparatively early age,' Heath complimented her. 'You can still only be—what—twenty-five, I think?'

  His knowing her age surprised her, but she said coolly, 'I simply worked my way up the firm, that's all.'

  But Colin had heard and put in with a smile, 'That is definitely an understatement. Zara is Panache. Or rather Webster & Layston.'

  Heath looked across at her ringless hands. 'The name Layston surprises me. I had heard that you were married.'

  'Really?' Aside from wondering how on earth he knew, Zara was acutely conscious of Colin listening with pricked ears beside her. She had dropped her married name on the day that she and Christopher were divorced as she felt that she had no right to it, and gradually, because of staff changes in the company, there was no one in the head office who knew she had been married at all. That there was great curiosity among her colleagues about her social/love life, she was fully aware, and it looked as if Colin was going to have some juicy titbits to take back to them. 'Yes, I was,' she admitted reluctantly. 'But it broke up some time ago.'

  'And your sister? I'm afraid I've forgotten her name.'

  Zara looked at him antagonistically. 'But you seem to have a fantastic memory, Mr Masterson…'

  'Heath,' he broke in.

  But she ignored him. 'My sister is fine, thank you. She's married to a doctor and has two children. Is that how we met? Were you a friend of Denise?'

  She looked at him in bland enquiry and Heath's eyes settled intently on her face. 'No.' He shook his head a little. 'I was never a friend of your sister.'

  He stressed the last two words a little, but Zara ignored that too. Quickly she brought the conversation back to business and kept it there. She had to admit that Heath knew his stuff; he had an answer to every query that she raised about the outlines he had given them for the Game, Set and Match promotion. Sometimes he deferred to Eric Jennings, but Zara could tell that this was from a good relations point of view, not because he didn't know the answer himself. She had gone into his suggestions thoroughly, looking for flaws, but had found very few and these mostly through lack of knowledge of each individual Panache shop. And when she pointed out impracticalities Heath agreed readily enough, not attempting to bluster or make any excuses.

  They had reached the coffee stage, Zara refusing a pudding, and she reached out to pick up the cream just as Heath went to hand it to her. Their hands collided. Heath apologised as Zara jerked away, unable to bear any physical contact with him. His eyes went swiftly to her face, for a second open and vulnerable, but then the mask closed down and she was her cool, efficient self again.

  Colin and Eric were talking animatedly and hadn't noticed anything. Heath glanced at them and then leaned forward, one elbow on the table as he stirred his coffee. 'You know,' he said softly so that only she could hear, 'I think you do remember me after all.'

  But Zara shook her head decisively. 'I'm afraid not.'

  'In that case,' he went on smoothly, 'why don't you have dinner with me one evening soon so that I can remind you of where we met—and how well we knew one another?'

  Zara gave a disparaging laugh. 'Is this how you usually do business, Mr Masterson?'

  'This isn't business. This is—personal.'

  The way he looked at her when he said it brought so many bittersweet memories flooding back. Zara's hands tightened in her lap, but she managed to keep all emotion out of her face except a slight disdain. 'Sorry, no.'

  Heath's left eyebrow rose quizzically. 'Afraid, Zara?'

  She returned his look levelly. 'Of what?'

  'Of the past. Of remembering.'

  She gave a delighted laugh that made Colin and Eric turn to look at her. 'How mysterious you are, Mr Masterson! Maybe I will let you tell me some time. But right now I have to get back to work. Thank you so much for lunch—it was delicious.' She got to her feet and they all moved out into the entrance area. 'It's been an interesting talk, Mr Masterson, and Colin and I will certainly give a lot of thought to your proposals, but we must also listen to the agencies we've used before.'

  The waiter brought her coat and went to hold it for her, but Heath took it from him, lifting it on to her shoulders and holding his hands there for a moment until she stepped away. After putting on her gloves she held out her hand to him again. 'Goodbye, it was nice to meet you. But perhaps I should add "again" as you seem so sure that we've met.' She turned to say goodbye to his assistant, pleased that an uncertain look was back in Heath's eyes. On the whole, Zara thought, as she and Colin took a taxi back to the office, she had done rather well. She had been so afraid that she would betray her real feelings when she saw him, but she had made just that one small slip. She remembered how quickly he had picked it up, and how quickly, too, he had recognised her. At least she had made a lasting impression on him, if nothing else, Zara thought bitterly.

  Colin said something to her and she gave him a vague look. 'What?'

  'I said what did you think of Heath Masterson?'

  'Oh, okay. What did you?'

  'I thought he was extremely efficient, and full of good ideas. I'm a hundred per cent behind us giving them the contract,' he said enthusiastically. 'I think it's the kind of campaign that will really make our rivals sit up and take notice.'

  'Are you indeed?' Zara answered drily. 'I'd rather our customers took notice and came in and bought.'

  Colin grinned, having had enough wine to make him cheeky. 'You know what I mean. When shall I draw up the contract with Masterads?'

  For a moment Zara looked unseeingly out of the window before turning to him again. 'You won't,' she said shortly. 'I have no intention of giving them the contract.'

  He looked at her in astonishment. 'But why? Their ideas are first class. Is it the terms or something that's put you off? Because if so I can probably negotiate…'

  'No, it isn't that. I just don't want to do business with them, that's all.'

  He gave her a shrewd look. 'Because Masterson said he'd met you before?'

  'Because he claimed that he'd met me before. I don't remember him,' Zara lied.

  'But he seemed to know things about you.'

  'A couple of facts, that's all. Things that anyone could have found out if they'd wanted to make that kind of claim. Perhaps he thought a previous acquaintance might influence me in their favour. But it's had the opposite effect.'

  'All right,' Colin said resignedly. 'You're the boss, but I still think their campaign would have been the most effective. I'll write to Masterson tomorrow and tell him we've chosen one of the other agencies.'

  'No, not tomorrow. Let them go on hoping for a while longer. I'll tell you when.'

  He frowned. 'This doesn't sound like you at all, Zara. Masterads must have put a lot of work into this already, and could be holding back some of their key workers for the campaign. They might even turn down other work in the hope of getting the contract.'

  'Then that's a risk they have to take,' Zara said brutally as the taxi drew up outside their office building. 'Just do as I ask, please, Colin.'

  Going into her office, she told Mac that she didn't want to be disturbed for an hour and settled down at her desk with a sheaf of papers in front of her, but she had only been looking through them for about five minutes when she gave up all pretence and sat with her chin resting on her hands, thinking of Heath. She still didn't know if he was married; he wore only one ring on his right hand, but he had worn that when she had known him; it was a present from his parents for his twenty-first birthday. But she did know that he had lost none of his charm and the magnetism that had so attracted her in the beginning. Perhaps, now that he was his own master, he had a slightly more arrogant air, as if he was used to giving orders, but he still had that
lazy smile that did crazy things to her insides. And which somehow made her hate him all the more. He uses his charm deliberately, she thought bitterly. To entice girls—and now to try and win the Panache contract. My God, did he really think I'd succumb to his charms and go out to dinner with him if I'd remembered him? After the way he walked out on me? The man's mad! Or else so sure of his effect on women that he thought I'd come running back for more of the same.

  Pushing her chair violently back, she stood up and glared angrily at the innocent wall, her face bleak, her green eyes cold as glacial ice. She was glad she had seen him. Because now she would have no qualms whatsoever about doing him as much harm as she possibly could.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Masterads, or rather Heath, was very patient; he waited almost a week before getting Eric Jennings to phone Colin to ask if they had come to a decision over the advertising contract. Colin in turn rang Zara and asked the same question.

  'Tell him no,' she replied baldly.

  'I can't keep them dangling much longer,' Colin complained. They're going to demand an answer one way or another soon.'

  'So when they do let me know,' she told him.

  Later that afternoon her phone rang again and Mac said there was a personal call for her.

  'Who is it?'

  'It's Heath Masterson of Masterads.'

  'I'd hardly call that a personal call.'

  'He insists that it's not about business.'

  'Does he indeed? Tell him I'm not available,' Zara instructed with some satisfaction. So Heath was starting to panic, was he? Good. Well, he could sweat a bit longer before she gave him the bad news.

  She was going out to dinner that evening, having received a rather unexpected invitation to the home of a middle-aged couple, Sir John and Lady Ward, whom Zara had met at a conference on Youth Employment in the Clothing Industry recently. Sir John was in the Civil Service and his wife had taken an active part as hostess at the conference. Zara hadn't been invited to bring an escort so guessed, rather wryly, that she had been asked to make the numbers up, especially as Lady Ward had only phoned the invitation through a couple of days ago. But she didn't really mind; it was always stimulating to meet new people and sometimes, if she met someone really interesting, having an escort could cramp her style.

  So that evening Zara put on a green evening dress that exactly matched the colour of her eyes, and took a taxi to the Kensington address that she had been given. It turned out to be a house set in a terrace in a side road off Kensington High Street, a pretty Georgian town house with an authentic bow window on the first floor overlooking the street. It was to this room that Zara was directed after she had handed the maid her coat. Her host and hostess greeted her at the door and then Lady Ward began to introduce her to the people who had already arrived. It was to be quite a large dinner party, evidently; there were already about eight people there besides the Wards, all married couples, two of whom Zara knew slightly and began to chat with. She wondered rather cynically who had been invited for her—or vice versa—but she wasn't kept in suspense very long; after about five minutes the last guest arrived and Lady Ward moved over to the door to greet him. Zara had her back to the door but took a casual step sideways so that she could glance across and see what the man was like. She took that one glance and then swiftly looked away, her heart jumping in her chest, colour flooding from her cheeks. The other unaccompanied guest was Heath! Wearing a similar black evening suit to the one he had worn on the night she had met him. Seeing him so unexpectedly sent her senses reeling with shock, unable to hear a word that anyone said to her, and her hand holding the glass of sherry shaking uncontrollably.

  'Careful, you'll spill your drink!' a woman exclaimed, and somehow she managed to give a thin- lipped smile and bring herself back under control.

  By the time Lady Ward had introduced Heath to the other people in the room and reached her group, Zara had subdued her emotions, her numb brain having already recovered enough to figure out just why she had been invited—so that Heath could work on her for the Panache contract! A surge of anger flamed through her veins; she hated being used like this. So it was a very frosty acknowledgement that Heath received when Lady Ward brought him over. She merely nodded to Heath's, 'Well, hallo again,' and made no attempt to transfer her drink to her left hand so that she could shake hands with him as the other guests did.

  Turning back to the woman she had been talking to before he arrived, Zara said, 'You were telling me about your holiday,' and the woman happily picked up where she had left off. An amused look came into Heath's eyes, but he began to chat easily with the other three people in the group. Zara didn't look at him, apparently giving all her attention to the person she was talking to, but she was very aware of Heath, the memories of that first time she had met him strong in her mind. Somehow his presence filled the room, dwarfing the other men there, emasculating them by his height and casual self-assurance. That he had lost none of his attraction was obvious; every woman in the room had perked up a little when he had come in, was standing a little straighter and talking just a tone higher to try and attract his attention. Even the woman Zara was talking to kept giving him surreptitious glances and soon turned to join in the other conversation.

  'Shall we go in to dinner ?' Lady Ward's raised voice broke through the chatter and the husbands and wives naturally paired up, leaving Zara and Heath to go in together at the end.

  Zara turned to put her glass on a convenient table and didn't look at Heath as he stood aside to let her go ahead of him through the door. As she had guessed, they were seated next to each other around the middle of the long table. After pulling her chair out for her, Heath sat down on her right. 'What a pleasant surprise to meet you again so soon,' he said smoothly.

  Zara raised a very cold eyebrow. 'Surprise?' she asked, expecting him to say that he hadn't known she was to be there.

  But he smiled disarmingly and said, 'Well, not a surprise for me, I must admit; Evelyn had already told me that you'd been invited. As a matter of fact I tried to phone you at your office to ask if I could give you a lift here tonight—but you weren't available.'

  He paused before the last few words and raised his eyebrows as if he hadn't believed it, but Zara took no notice. He was very smooth, she thought, and very clever to have admitted that he knew she would be here. 'You must know Lady Ward well if you call her by her first name,' she remarked.

  'Very well. Both her and Sir John. They're old friends of my own parents.'

  'And as such are probably very willing to do you a favour when you ask it?' Zara guessed, her anger increasing.

  Heath looked amused, as if he already knew what was coming. 'Yes. And you're quite right, I did ask them to invite you tonight. I wanted to meet you again on neutral ground and ..

  But Zara interrupted him, her green eyes flashing angry fire. 'I shall tell you this just once—I don't mix business with pleasure—if that's what this dinner is supposed to be. And if you mention business even once I warn you I shall scream. Very loudly! And then I shall leave—and let the people here draw what conclusions they like from it.'

  She didn't know quite how he would react to that, but she certainly didn't expect to see a raptly admiring look in his eyes and for him to shake his head and say, 'Ah, now I certainly don't remember that!'

  'Remember what?'

  'Your ever being angry before. I should certainly have remembered if you had. It—leaves a lasting impression. But when I knew you it wasn't anger that—you said—you felt.'

  Zara looked at him speechlessly for a moment, wishing she could say a whole lot of things about that,- but as she couldn't, she turned her back on him to talk to her other neighbour, remembering belatedly to eat some of the starter in front of her.

  She talked to the other man exclusively through the fish course until his wife claimed his attention, and to the people opposite while the main course was being served. But then Heath joined in that conversation until somehow she found that everyone
else had turned away and she was left with no one but him to talk to.

  For the life of her she couldn't think of anything to say. Heath looked at her set profile, gave a small smile and said, 'This is excellent beef, isn't it?'

  'Yes, delicious,' Zara agreed mechanically, then looked at him quickly as he laughed.

  'It's pheasant,' he pointed out with a grin.

  'Oh! Is it? Yes, of course.' She realised that she hadn't the slightest idea what she had been eating.

  'I'm sorry if I've made you angry,' Heath said softly. 'Please don't blame Evelyn; she did as I asked with the best of intentions.'

  Zara glanced at their hostess at the head of the table, then back at Heath. 'Did she have any choice?'

  He smiled. 'Not a lot. It took me quite some time to find someone who knew you, and I was very persuasive.'

  'I can imagine,' she said drily. 'Just as I can imagine just why you wanted to see me.'

  'Can you?' Heath looked at her contemplatively. 'I wonder if you really do or if you're just pretending.'

  'I don't—pretend.'

  'Don't you?' he said enigmatically. But then with a swift change of mood, 'Believe me, I didn't want to see you to discuss business. I don't like taking my work home with me any more than you do. But I wanted us to meet socially so that maybe we could start renewing our acquaintance.'

  'I don't remember any acquaintance to renew,' Zara answered shortly.

  'Tut, tut, tut,' he mocked. 'And who was it said she didn't pretend?'

  A slight flush coloured Zara's cheeks but she wouldn't admit that he was right. She pushed her plate away, unable to eat. 'Even if we had met before, I make it a rule not to become friendly with anyone I do business with, either customers or people we buy from. There's too much cut and thrust in business to let friendship stand in the way. So I'm afraid I don't subscribe to the old-pals act, Mr Masterson.'