Confrontation

by Sarah Holland

  CONFRONTATION

  Sarah Holland

  Caroline was worried:

  She couldn't get Mark Rider off her mind but she was engaged to Stephen. What was wrong with her? Stephen was so nice, and happy to wait until they were married before going to bed. Whereas bed was all that Mark wanted. He was perfectly honest about it - love and marriage were out, bed was in. Well, he could count Caroline out of his plans - passionate she may be, but it just so happened she was old-fashioned too.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Caroline was working overtime again. A quick glance at her watch told her she wasn't going to be late for dinner with Stephen. It was only just gone six, and she would be finished very soon.

  Glancing towards her boss's door, she stared at the brass plaque reading: 'MARK RIDER, MANAGING DIRECTOR'. He was an enigma, a hard-faced man with eyes the colour of steel and jet-black hair. She had no idea what went on in his head, but she knew about his private life, and she knew he was an absolute bastard where women were concerned. Common sense told her she ought to dislike him. But when he looked at her.. .she felt quivers of excitement.

  It was like working with an exposed electric cable. Caroline spent her days staring at him, thinking about him, wondering what it would feel like if that electric cable ever made contact with her...

  Stop fantasising about him! she chided herself for the hundredth time that day, and got to her feet, pressing 'print' on the computer. The printer began hammering out the letter on expensive paper, the words 'Rider Advertising' in black and red at the top.

  The door opened suddenly, and he strode in, devastatingly sexy in his black business suit, a gold watch chain glittering across a taut black waistcoat, his height and muscular build giving him an aura of hard masculinity that made her heart pick up the pace.

  Caroline flicked a look at him through her lashes, her green eyes warily excited by him.

  'Ah!' His steel-grey eyes flashed over the printer. 'You've finished them all, then?'

  'Yes, sir. That's the last one.'

  He bent his dark head to study the letter. 'Perfect. I'll sign all copies here and you can get them off.'

  Caroline shuffled all the printed letters into a neat pile, took a black and silver pen from the top drawer, and presented them to Mark Rider for his powerful signature.

  As he signed, she walked to the other side of the room and took her white coat down, sliding into it, aware of Mark Rider's grey eyes suddenly flicking to her slender curves, softly outlined in the black wool dress.

  'You're in quite a hurry,' he drawled softly, a sardonic smile on his cruel mouth. 'I haven't kept you too late, have I?'

  'No.' She pulled her long golden brown curls out of the back of the coat, shaking her head automatically as they shimmered like dark spun gold.

  The printer came to a halt. Mark glanced at it, whipped the paper out of it, and placed it on the desk, signing in that bold, dynamic way of his.

  'I'm rather hungry,' Mark drawled casually, handing the last letter to her and straightening. 'We could have dinner together.'

  Caroline tensed, her long lashes flickering, breathless as she studied him with wary green eyes, electricity prickling over her skin.

  'Perhaps go to the theatre afterwards,' Mark said under his breath, a tension in his body that increased her excitement.

  He had often asked her out for dinner in the last eight months. She had always refused. It was too dangerous for her to spend time in intimate surroundings with him. She knew that instinctively.

  'That would be lovely,' Caroline said at last with a slow smile, 'but I'm afraid I have other plans.'

  The grey eyes hardened into steel. 'You always do. You must lead a busy life, Miss Shaw.'

  'I like to be busy,' she admitted, smiling up at him through her lashes. Then she felt her heart miss a beat, so she quickly lowered her gaze and reached for the letters, leaning over the desk.

  The grey eyes moved over her slender body, the white coat open as she leaned over the desk, her slim curves very visible below that black wool dress because it clung to her body so lovingly; her firm breasts were clearly outlined and Mark was studying them with narrowed eyes.

  'Seeing your boyfriend tonight?'

  She flushed, reached for the neatly typed envelopes. 'Who told you I had a boyfriend?' she joked.

  'A young woman with your looks...' he drawled, but his teeth were bared in a dangerous smile, and she knew he was angry that she had refused another invitation from him.

  Her flush deepened. 'Thanks for the compliment!' She was putting the letters in the envelopes now, and sealing them one after the other.

  'I wonder why you're so cagey, Miss Shaw!' Mark Rider drawled, thrusting his hands into the pockets of that black suit. 'About your private life, I mean. Most secretaries I've employed have been only too happy to chatter endlessly about their boyfriends.'

  'Maybe I'm different!' she quipped, shooting him a smile.

  'Yes,' he said under his breath. 'I wonder why?'

  Suddenly, the crackle of electricity between them flared higher, and Caroline felt her pulses race with it as she straightened, moistening her lips, so deeply aware of him that she wondered how much longer she could go on working with him without the whole situation blowing up in her face.

  'I must go,' Caroline said. 'I'll see you tomorrow, sir.'

  'Goodnight.' He watched her leave with steely eyes.

  As she closed the door she was shaking. Pushing a hand through her gold-brown hair, she exhaled unsteadily, and it wasn't until she left the managing director's suite that she felt the tension ebb away.

  Working with that man was like being under threat. She was more sexually aware of him than she had ever been of any man in her life before.

  Pressing the lift call button, she thought of his reputation and his women. An absolute bastard, they called him, and they were right. It was cold and dark outside, and she huddled into her coat as she walked to the Tube station. Mark Rider would be driven home by his chauffeur in the back of a long limousine.

  He was a very rich man. He had a house in London and a manor in Hampshire. His current girlfriend was a raven-haired fashion model called Venetia Blake. He drove her around at night to expensive London clubs, casinos and restaurants, a powerfully sexy man in a choice of his black Bentley, his black XJS convertible and his black Range Rover.

  The gulf between Mark Rider's life and Caroline's was vast, even though she had been born into a wealthy family: all the money was gone now, eaten up by death duties and debts... but the gulf between secretary and boss was always too wide to be crossed by anything but a passing affair, and Caroline was not the type for passing affairs.

  She rode home on the crowded train, staring blankly at the adverts above the heads of her fellow passengers. When she got out at her station, it was only a ten-minute walk through the cold London streets to her flat, which was in a large rambling Victorian house in Chiswick.

  'I'm just putting the kettle on!' Liz called from the kitchen. 'Do you want some tea?'

  'Yes, please!' Caroline closed the door behind her and walked into the narrow little kitchen. 'But I'll just leap into the bath first, so don't hurry!'

  'Heavy date with Stephen?'

  'Yes, and I've only got an hour to get ready in!' Caroline groaned, nipping into the bathroom and closing the door. Shedding her clothes, she stepped into the bath.

  Five minutes later, she emerged, breathless with the speed at which she had bathed. Wrapped in a white towelling robe, her hair in a pink turban made from a small towel, she was squeaky clean and looking forward to her cup of tea.

  'You're always doing overtime for that gorgeous boss of yours,' Liz observed, painting her fingernails at the kitchen table. 'Why didn't you tell him
you had a big date with Stephen tonight?'

  'I knew I could do both if I hurried,' she said evasively.

  'You wanted to spend extra time with Mark Rider, you mean!' Liz teased with a smile in her dove-grey eyes as they flicked to Caroline's.

  Caroline flushed and said defensively, 'As a matter of fact, he asked me out to dinner again, and I refused.' Laughing, she added, 'So there!'

  Liz watched her intently. 'Why do you always refuse?'

  Caroline met her eyes and felt a slow, hot flush rise in her face, taking her smile away at once. 'I don't know,' she admitted on a husky note, and looked out of the kitchen window into that familiar midnight-blue darkness, across London's dusty roof-tops, the lights gleaming orange, white, yellow across the city.

  Liz frowned. 'He obviously finds you attractive or he wouldn't keep asking you out.'

  Caroline felt afraid suddenly, and said, 'I'm sorry, I really have to go and get ready. Stephen will be here in half an hour and my hair's still soaking wet..

  Stephen had stressed the importance of this evening, and had asked her to 'wear something dressy'. When she had blow-dried her hair and put her make-up on, she flicked through her wardrobe. The red dress seemed most appropriate, so she got it out and slid into it.

  The doorbell rang. In the hall, she heard Liz answer the door.

  'Hi, Stephen.' Liz's voice echoed as she let him in. 'She should be ready. Come in and --'

  'I'll be there in a minute!' Caroline called, then hesitated, staring at the strapless red silk that clung to her full, high breasts and tiny waist and the slender curve of her hips. It smoothed down over her long slim thighs and ended just above the knee.

  Was it too sexy? Too late now, she thought with a grimace, and snatched up her bag, striding out into the hall.

  Stephen caught his breath. 'Darling...you look sensational!'

  Caroline smiled, slid into her white coat, and Liz waved them out as they left, their footsteps echoing on the communal stairs that led to the communal hall. There were three other flats housed in the building.

  They stepped out into the cold night. Stephen looked young and handsome in a white dinner-jacket and black evening trousers, his dark blond hair brushed back from his pale forehead.

  'You're looking awfully smart, Stephen! Where exactly are we going?' Caroline asked him.

  'I told you,' he said, a smile on his handsome mouth, 'it's a surprise.' He opened the door of his green saloon car. 'But I guarantee you'll love it, darling. I chose it specially for you.'

  Caroline laughed. 'You're very secretive tonight!'

  'I have a lot of surprises in store for you!' he smiled, and kissed her mouth before helping her into the front seat, closing the door, then walking round to the driver's door.

  They had met six months ago, in the grounds of Chiswick House one Sunday afternoon. Caroline and Liz had been having a picnic on the grass when Stephen's Labrador puppy had come haring over to them, leapt on to their picnic, and started eating it. Stephen had insisted on making amends by taking them both out to dinner. Liz had backed out at the last minute, knowing Stephen really only wanted to be with Caroline.

  Tonight, though, Stephen took her to the Ritz.

  'Oh, Stephen...!' Caroline was overwhelmed as he led her to the steps of the glittering hotel. 'I can't believe it! This is so --'

  'Perfect.' He smiled and kissed her. 'I know. As it's such a special occasion, I decided it was the only place we could come to this evening.'

  'Special occasion?' She smiled up at him, the warm breeze in her hair. 'Darling—what on earth is going on? Please tell me.'

  'Not yet. Come on.' He offered her his arm, grinning. 'I've booked a table for two for eight o'clock!'

  They walked in through that achingly familiar door and into the pale pink and gold luxury of the Ritz. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and the hush of old money made Caroline walk taller. She wondered what was going on in Stephen's mind. Why was this a special occasion? Had he been promoted at work?

  'Good evening, sir, madam.' The head waiter of the Palm Court swept up to them in black tails and a charming smile. 'A table for two? May I take your coat, madam?'

  As her coat slid from her bare shoulders, she was very glad she had worn this superb red dress, because she felt so totally at home here in it.

  They were led to their table across the marble floor. Shaking out her long chestnut-gold curls, Caroline walked with a confident sway in her step, the red dress attracting admiring glances from men as she passed.

  Suddenly, she met a pair of steel-grey eyes, saw a hard mouth and felt the crackle of electricity as she stopped dead, staring as her pulse-rate rocketed.

  'Good evening, Miss Shaw,' Mark Rider drawled coolly, and his eyes took in the sexy red dress she wore, stripping it slowly from her body...she could almost feel his hand on her zip.

  Breathless, she said, 'Good evening, Mr Rider!' and forced herself to carry on walking, aware of that dark excitement gripping the pit of her stomach.

  'Who was that?' Stephen asked as they sat at their table in the corner of the marble and gold Palm Court. 'You called him Mr Rider... ?'

  'My boss,' Caroline confirmed thickly. 'That's Venetia Blake with him, isn't it? I recognise her from the magazines...'

  Stephen glanced over at them. 'Yes... stunning, isn't she?'

  Caroline's mouth tightened. 'She looks like Countess Dracula. All that black eyeliner and those red lips!'

  'I wouldn't mind feeling her teeth in my neck!' said Stephen, smiling lazily, then blanched, saying at once, 'God, I'm sorry, Caro! What an oaf I am! Let me order champagne...'

  Later, Caroline and Stephen walked into the elegant restaurant, dim-lit as the three-piece played Cole Porter, and waiters in black tails swished about with silver-domed dishes.

  Mark Rider was seated at table one. His narrowed eyes flicked up as she entered, and moved with steely sexual appraisal over her body as he leaned back in his seat, his hard face quite ruthless.

  'This is the first time I've ever dined here,' Stephen confided over the candle-lit table. 'Isn't the ceiling magnificent?'

  Caroline flicked a gaze up at the blue-gold painted ceiling. 'Yes.' As her gaze slid down it met Mark Rider's and her heart missed a beat.

  Their first course arrived, and they began to eat. The consommé was light and delicious. The waiters swished about while the piano, violin and double bass played 'Night and Day'.

  The meal was superb. The wild duck was exquisite, served in a elegant strips fanned out on beautiful plates. Afterwards, Caroline chose Ritz sorbets, which arrived with a little crown of spun sugar.

  'Well,' Stephen said lightly as their plates were cleared and coffee was ordered, 'it seems the great moment is here and I can't delay any longer.'

  Caroline studied him. 'Stephen, you're not being sent away anywhere, are you? You've mentioned promotion before, and --'

  'I have been promoted,' he said at once. 'I'm now chief executive salesman!' He ran a hand through his dark blond hair. 'And that brings me neatly to the biggest surprise of all.'

  Caroline frowned smilingly, and watched him reach into his inside jacket pocket to pull out a small blue velvet box that made her catch her breath, eyes flashing to his face.

  'Darling,' Stephen's voice was husky, 'I realise this is a surprise for you, but you must have known how I felt.'

  She was astonished, staring at him, telling herself she loved him, she wanted this to happen...

  'I love you,' said Stephen, and opened the blue velvet box, reaching slowly across the table to offer it to her. 'And I want you to marry me.' He watched her, and said huskily, 'Please say yes...'

  Across the restaurant, Mark Rider's dark head slowly turned.

  Caroline stared at the diamond solitaire. 'Stephen...I don't know what to say.'

  'I just told you,' he murmured, flushing. 'Say yes...'

  She was suddenly powerfully aware of Mark Rider's grey eyes on her, and she was fighting to think coherently.
'Stephen, it's all so sudden!'

  He watched her face. 'You know I'm desperately in love with you. I've told you often enough...'

  'I know, but...' Caroline studied him, wanting to accept, yet wanting to be fair to him, and wanting most of all for Mark Rider to stop looking at her.

  'You can have time to think it over.' Stephen was watching her face intently. 'How long do you need?'

  Caroline flicked her gaze to his face. 'I don't need time to think it over,' she said with a warm smile. 'Stephen, of course I'll marry you!'

  'Oh, God...!' His eyes flared with joy, and he took the ring from the velvet box, sliding it on to her finger. 'I'm so happy, darling...'

  A couple started dancing cheek to cheek in the dimly lit restaurant, close to the piano.

  'Shall we celebrate with a dance?' Stephen was beaming at her, and she smiled, nodding. He rose to his feet, handsome in his white dinner-jacket and black trousers, and led her to the small dance area on the plush carpet close to the grand piano, the violinist and the palm tree.

  Caroline rested her head on his shoulder as he held her in his arms.

  'I'd like to set a date for the wedding as soon as possible,' Stephen told her huskily, holding her tight. 'Can we talk about it?'

  Something in her tensed. 'I'll need time to think about a wedding, Stephen,' she said with gentle sincerity. 'Don't make any public announcements. It's all happening awfully fast, and I'm not truthfully a hundred per cent sure about it...'

  'All right.' He kissed her mouth softly, smiling. 'I'll give you all the time you need.'

  The music stopped. Hand in hand they returned to their table. A second later, Mark Rider was getting to his feet, and with a shock she realised he was walking over to her.

  'Miss Shaw.' Mark reached their table, hands in the trouser pockets of his magnificent black evening suit. 'I realise this is hardly the office party, but nevertheless I feel I must ask you to dance.'

  Caroline's eyes widened with shock, but she had no real choice other than to accept with a wary smile, standing up, feeling those steel-grey eyes rove like fire over her sensual body.