by Helen Brooks
'No, Reece.' She caught hold of his arm, panic-stricken. 'There's two of them.'
'She's right, guv'nor.' The first man smiled ingratiatingly. 'No point in getting hurt over a little misunderstanding. My mate and I are just leaving.'
'Think again.' He moved Miriam behind him, still without taking his eyes off the two figures in front of him. 'Lock yourself in the car, Miriam.'
'I'm not leaving you in here with them,' she said shakily. 'They were sent to collect our vans, Reece; they're strong-arm types—'
'The hell they are.' His laugh was sinister and totally without humour, and it seemed to have the same effect on the men watching him so closely as it did on her. 'You think you can push my lady around? Well, think again.'
'Look, we don't want no trouble.' There was an element of fear in the coarse voices now, and the brutish faces were uncertain as they glanced first at Reece's big, powerful body and then at his dark face, in which the silver-grey of his eyes glittered with unholy fire. 'We're just doing our job, guv'nor, that's all.'
'Which is?'
As the whining voices explained their mission Reece's icy gaze didn't falter.
'Well, now, you can go back to your Mr Gregory and tell him the situation has been resolved to the satisfaction of all parties.' Reece reached into his inside pocket and the two men flinched as his hand withdrew. They clearly wouldn't have been surprised if he had been holding a 44 Magnum in his fist. He threw a card onto the floor. 'Pick it up.'
The two hit heads in their eagerness to obey and for the first time since they had come into the office Miriam felt a glimmer of amusement break through the horrific fear.
'The contract has been terminated as from this moment, and your Mr Gregory will receive the outstanding amount on the vans within twenty-four hours. Not the hire-purchase mark-up.' He fixed them with his icy gaze. 'The residue against the original purchase price. Any queries he can refer directly to me. And only to me—got it?'
'Right, guv'nor.' Their heads were bobbing like demented pigeons.
'And now I think an apology is in order.' He drew Miriam into the fold of his arm. 'And it had better seem like you mean it.'
By the time the two men left, positively slithering past Reece, their faces averted, Miriam had begun to feel as if she were caught up in some kind of gangster movie, with the chief hood as her protector. He said not a word as he watched the two leave in a flashy red American job, and didn't relax his hold on her waist until he drew her back into the office, when he leant against the wall, his eyes closed, and expelled a long, expressive sigh. 'And I only came back to give you your briefcase.'
She stared at him, dumb with the shock of it all, and then as he opened lazy silver-grey eyes saw that his face was alive with a wry kind of amusement. 'I thought we might be in a spot of trouble there for a minute—before I realised they were all wind and water, that is. Still, the bodyguard act impressed you, I hope.' He levered himself off the wall slowly. 'And how did you come to be mixed up with a crook like Gregory anyway?'
'You know him?' she managed faintly.
'I know the type,' he said cynically. 'I've met a few like those two in my time—hired hands, with no brains—'
'Oh, Reece.' As she burst into tears he moved quickly and enfolded her in his arms, his face straight now, and somehow the big, muscled body seemed like a haven of protection after what she'd just passed through. He stroked her hair silently, making soft, comforting sounds in his throat, but when her sobs developed a touch of hysteria he moved her away from him gently with a little shake before staring down quietly into the drowning violet eyes.
'Enough.' There was a note of tenderness in the deep voice that added to her misery, although she couldn't have explained why. 'You can rest assured those goons won't be back when their esteemed boss knows he might be taking on the Vance Corporation. He might be a mean little swindler, and something of a villain, but I doubt if he's got brain damage.'
'That man, he was going to-—'
'Don't think about it.' Reece reached for her coat and picked up the office keys on the desk. 'I doubt if they would have followed through on anything physical; they were trying to frighten you.'
'They succeeded.' She smiled shakily. 'Thank you so much—'
'I'm taking you to lunch so lock up,' he said expressionlessly.
'But you can't— Your appointment—'
'There is no fun in being the boss if I can't cancel when I feel like it.' He was trying to aim for lightness, but as her lip quivered again he pulled her into his arms and spoke into her hair. 'You aren't staying here, Miriam, and for the time being at least I shall want assurance from that brother of yours that there are always a couple of people about. This is not a particularly salubrious district at the best of times.'
'You think they'll come back?' she asked weakly, her voice muffled against his hard chest.
'No, I don't think they'll come back,' he answered, with the sort of light, teasing approach one favoured with children. The tone hurt, and she pulled away slightly to look up into his face. He thought that she was an inane, pathetic, fatuous type of female, and nothing she had done or said in the last few hours indicated any differently. She sniffed determinedly and forced back the tears with resolute doggedness.
'I'm not going to let them drive me out of my own premises,' she said firmly. 'I'm not.'
'Very commendable, but for today at least you are having a break.' He glanced at his watch. 'It's too late for me to keep my appointment now anyway, so if I can just use your phone and talk to my secretary we'll go and eat. A couple of stiff drinks and you'll forget today ever happened.'
No, she wouldn't, she thought faintly as she watched him make the call, his large bulk seeming to fill the small room. If she lived to be a hundred she would never forget the overwhelming relief she had felt when she had heard his voice. And he had handled those men so well.
She let her eyes wander over the hard profile as he concentrated on his call, his voice terse and rapid. He made every other man she had ever met in her whole life fade into oblivion…
Her eyes opened wide as she realised what she had just thought and she closed her mind firmly. She was grateful to him—of course she was—and everyone knew that one felt some sort of attraction for their defender in such a situation, and as a white knight he sure had a head start. Although she doubted very much if his morals were up to the standards of those crusaders of long ago. She smiled to herself at the thought at the same moment as he turned from the phone.
'A smile?' The dark face expressed its approval and she was immensely thankful that he couldn't read her mind. 'Can I ask why?'
'I was just thinking of how you dealt with those two,' she said quickly, her cheeks flushing.
'You sure do bounce back, Miss Bennett.' There was something in his glance that brought the colour flaring more hotly to her face. 'Sunday's child again?'
She nodded in reply.
'Well, that little rhyme has a lot going for it from where I'm standing.' As he took her arm and ushered her out of the office she could feel his hand burning through her coat and wondered again at her body's immediate response to this man.
He was cold and hard—look at how he had been about his poor housekeeper's accident, not to mention his comments on his sister's proposed marriage, she told herself firmly—and she sensed that he could be capable of great ruthlessness; those hired thugs had known it too. And yet… For some reason every minute she was in his company this physical attraction was getting stronger. She'd never felt like this about a man before, hadn't even know it was possible outside romantic novels.
She glanced at him as they walked over to the car waiting regally in the tiny car park. She shouldn't be having lunch with him. No good could come of it. She was probably going to make a worse fool of herself than she had already and she didn't trust herself around him. He had a great deal of something that she couldn't define, but whatever it was it didn't bode well for her peace of mind.
He
settled her in the car as he had before and then walked round to his side, taking off his overcoat and slinging it on the back seat before sliding in beside her. 'I hope you didn't mind my insinuating to those thugs that you were my girlfriend,' he said mildly as he turned the key in the ignition. 'It seemed a good idea at the time.'
'Of course not.' She didn't know how to reply and knew that her cheeks were burning again. 'I doubt if they believed you, though.'
'Why is that?' He turned to face her as the big car purred gently.
'Well, it's obvious, isn't it?' She smiled nervously, but there was no answering warmth in the hard face watching her so intently.
'I must be very obtuse, Miriam; humour me,' he said drily.
'Oh, come on, Reece.' He wasn't making this very easy but she was Mowed if she was going to make a worse. fool of herself than she had already, by playing Cinderella to his Prince Charming. Perhaps he had sensed that she was attracted to him and thought that she was hoping—
'Why wouldn't they have believed me?' he persisted quietly, the silver eyes narrowed on her flustered face with a touch of steel in their depths.
'Because you don't belong in my world,' she said flatly, 'and they would know that.'
'I don't belong—?' She heard him swear very softly under his breath as he swung the big car out into the road, and she sat absolutely still before glancing from under her eyelashes at his face. It was very cold and angry.
'I didn't mean—'
'I don't want to know what you meant.' He cut across her voice before she could say more.
'Yes, but—'
'Shut up, Miriam.' It was said tightly, through clenched teeth. 'You really are the most—' He stopped abruptly and she saw him take a long pull of air before he relaxed slightly against the leather seat.' 'Bonny and blithe and good and gay',' he murmured grimly after one swift glance at her nervous face. 'I'm beginning to think they left out more than they put in.'
'But—'
'It will take us exactly ten minutes to reach the hotel I have in mind and I would very much appreciate quiet and tranquillity after the morning I've had, so if you don't mind…?' He glared at her once before concentrating on the road.
It took nearly a quarter of an hour as it happened, due to the inevitable roadworks that always sprouted around lunchtime, but as the Bentley turned off the main thoroughfare and through two enormous wrought-iron gates into a small courtyard her stomach took a nosedive as she gazed at the impressive establishment in front of them.
'Reece, I'm not dressed for somewhere like this,' she began quickly, but he had left the car to walk round to her door and her words were lost in the air.
'What did you say?' He helped her out, his hand firm on her arm.
'I said—' She stopped abruptly. This was the sort of place he frequented all the time, and he already knew what she was wearing. If he was quite happy to bring her here she would carry it off… somehow, but she just knew that all the women would be in designer suits and elegant, wildly expensive dresses.
They were.
'Your usual table, Mr Vance?' The head waiter appeared as though by magic as they walked into the restaurant and Reece smiled warmly.
'If it's free, Raimondo; we haven't booked, I'm afraid.'
'I'm sure it's free, sir. If you and the young lady would like to follow me…?'
Once seated at a secluded little table for two, she drew breath and glanced about her. It really was a beautiful place, she thought weakly, and the people… Surely that was Geraldine Pace, the famous actress? She spotted several more celebrities within seconds, and tried not to gape. 'Now tell me this isn't better than a sandwich at your desk?' Reece raised sardonic eyebrows and she tried to muster an aplomb she didn't have.
'Just,' she admitted with a faint smile, glancing down at the heavily embossed menu which the waiter had given her once she'd been seated. There were no prices next to the dishes listed, which spoke volumes about the clientele, she thought weakly. What a place! If Mitch could see her now. The thought reminded her of the old song and her lips twitched in spite of herself.
'What?' Reece leant forward as he spoke. 'Tell me.'
'Tell you?' She gazed at him in surprise.
'What you were thinking just then that put that smile on your lips.'
'I—' She found that she was about to tell him, and stopped herself just in time. That note of command in his voice, the authority, was very hard to resist, and just at the moment her defences didn't seem to good. 'Why?' She gazed at him, the soft, discreet lighting in the restaurant turning his face into shadow, softening the harsh male lines. 'Why do you want to know?'
He shrugged as he sat back in his seat, his face sardonic. 'To answer a question with another question is a good ploy, Miss Bennett,' he said mockingly. 'I use it myself in business often.' He glanced round the restaurant, his eyes narrowed slits of silver. 'Everyone desperate to see and be seen,' he said softly, his gaze moving back to her face after a long moment. 'You find all this a little ridiculous, Miriam?'
'Ridiculous?' She stared at him in surprise and then shook her head quickly as she realised what he meant. 'I wasn't thinking about that, Reece—nothing so high-minded, I'm afraid.'
'No?' He sat up straighter, his eyes on her face. 'You like this, then, it appeals to you?'
She didn't quite know how to reply, and stared at him for a second before she decided that honesty was the best policy. 'I think it's wonderful—for a change,' she said politely. 'But I don't think I would want to live like this all the time. Not that it's without its appeal, but I think I must be more of a bread-and-butter girl than a soufflé type. I like to mess around in old jeans and take the dogs for a hike in the rain. Things like that, you know?' she finished awkwardly.
'Not really.' The dark face was quite expressionless.
'But this is really lovely—'
'For a change. Yes, I know,' he said wryly, with a small twist to his mouth that didn't speak of amusement.
She was immensely thankful that the waiter chose that moment to appear at Reece's side, head bowed deferentially, and after they had ordered she sipped tentatively at the cocktail the head waiter had brought to the table just after they had been seated.
'This is delicious,' she said, forcing a smile. 'And, Reece, I can't thank you enough for what you did. Whatever you say, I'm sure that man intended…' Her voice trailed away on a little shiver. 'Well, you know what he intended.'
'I know what he wanted you to think he intended.' Reece said calmly, 'but being hauled up on a rape charge is a sight more serious than threatening behaviour. The guy was trying to scare you, but I'll make sure they won't be back. You have my word on that, Miriam.' He smiled lazily. 'And now relax and enjoy your meal; that's an order.'
Relax? she thought incredulously. If she were seated opposite anyone else—anyone else—she might just be able to loosen up and unwind, let the beautiful surroundings and good food work their magic, but with Reece Vance within a hair's breadth? No chance.
The meal was delicious. The salmon canapés on their bed of green salad melted in the mouth, the grilled lamb cutlets with orange glaze sauce were cooked to perfection, and the cinnamon apple pie buried under its covering of thick double cream was out of this world.
Miriam couldn't help glancing round the other diners as she ate, noticing the languid, uninterested consumption of food in one or two areas accompanied by affected hand-waving as half-full plates were taken away by the ever attentive waiters, and the bottles of champagne being opened with monotonous regularity on certain tables. What posers!
The thought had popped into her mind of its own accord, but once in place she realised that it was absolutely right. There was one woman in particular who was enjoying being the centre of attention in her own little group, the men in the party leaning forward to catch her every word and the other women all sitting quietly with ingratiating smiles. She was sitting in profile to them, her body turned away, but from tine little Miriam could see she was obv
iously outrageously beautiful in the delicate blonde way most men loved.
Reece had proved to be an attentive lunch companion, with a wickedly dry sense of humour, although he rarely smiled himself. There was a brooding quality to him, and Miriam couldn't rid herself of the impression that he was viewing the world as a stage, with the rest of them as performers, while he remained at a distance from them all, laconic and reserved. It was… disturbing.
'Reece, darling… You dreadful man! You were going to let me go without saying hello?' If anything could have underlined the difference between Reece's world and hers it was the woman bending over him so familiarly as she offered her lips for a kiss.
Miriam realised instantly that it was the woman she had noticed earlier and, close to, her beauty was even more impressive. She was tall and slim, her figure clothed immaculately in a chic black dress, and the thick, shining silver-blonde hair that had caught Miriam's eye earlier was coiled expertly into a glossy chignon at the nape of her neck. Her skin was flawless, her small nose perfect and, as she straightened and turned to Miriam, Miriam saw that the large, wide eyes were a deep jade-green and as clear as glass.
Reece had risen without comment and now gestured to Miriam, who remained seated. 'Miriam, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine—Sharon Berkely-Smith. Sharon—Miriam.'
'How do you do?' The voice was cultured and soft and beautifully pitched, and as Miriam received the full force of the striking green eyes she felt almost dazed for a moment.
'Hello.' Miriam smiled politely as she met the blatant curiosity in the brilliant eyes. They swept over her face and figure with piercing sharpness before the woman turned back to Reece with a little sigh.
'Reece, darling, you really are the most annoying man. I thought you were going to ring me when you got Barbara's little muddle sorted?'
'I hardly think her wedding can be termed as a 'little muddle' Sharon,' Reece said drily, 'and I haven't had the time.'
'Darling, you work too hard, you really do. We shall have you turning into a recluse if we aren't careful.' She turned to Miriam with a sweet smile that didn't touch the cool green eyes. 'But perhaps you are taking him in hand?'