Confrontation

by Sarah Holland

He caught her easily, his hands hard on her waist as he dragged her back. 'I can't help my feelings, Caroline,' he said under his breath. 'Any more than you can.'

  'I don't know what you're talking about!' she said fiercely, heart drumming as she placed her hands on his chest and felt, incredibly, the hard thud of his heart.

  'Yes, you do,' he said thickly, grey eyes penetrating. 'I wanted you the minute I laid eyes on you, and you wanted me too. This is mutual, Caroline. I can feel it.' His strong hand slid swiftly to her throat, touching the pulse that throbbed violently there as he tilted her back on his lap, his dark head hovering over hers like a bird of prey as he whispered, 'I can feel it in your blood.. .give me your hand and feel that pulse!' His eyes darkened like black, bottomless wells as he said thickly, 'And then feel my pulses! Every last one of them...'

  'No, Mark!' she protested hoarsely, staring up at him as he slid her down, his hard hands implacable and his eyes narrowed hungrily on her mouth. 'I'll fight you...!'

  'You've been fighting me for months!' he bit out under his breath. 'I've tried every trick in the book to get you alone. Dinner invitations, party invitations, overtime...'

  Caroline felt her blood begin to throb, her hair sliding like silk over his hard forearm as he closed in on her. 'Mark, don't...'

  'But you just keep me at arm's length, don't you?' The grey eyes seemed to splinter. 'You look at me and my temperature rockets, but when I ask for a date, you give me that wary look and back away from me!' His voice thickened. 'You're driving me mad, you little bitch! I know you want me.. .but you won't let me near you...'

  'Stop it!' she said on a fierce whisper, her mouth shaking as his head came closer until their mouths were almost touching, and her heart was going like a rocket.

  'But now I've got you alone,' he whispered thickly, 'and I'm going to make you admit the way you feel. Even if I have to drive you insane with rage to do it...' His hard mouth closed over hers with a slow, sensual kiss that made her moan from deep in the back of her throat, her mouth opening instinctively beneath his in a moment of pure unadulterated desire. Then she realised what she was doing, and panic shot through her like fire.

  'No...!' she cried hoarsely, jerking her mouth from his, and suddenly she was fighting him, her breath coming rapidly as she struggled to sit up, raining blows on his broad shoulders, but he just kept her steady and took her wrists, then started pushing her backwards into the cushions, and swung his legs on to the couch until she lay trapped beneath his hard body.

  Helpless, dazed, she stared up into his dangerous face and her heart was slamming as she felt his hard thighs on hers, felt him slowly slide one between hers, making her mouth open with quivering, defenceless desire and her eyes glaze as she stared at his hard mouth.

  'Ready now...?' he asked thickly, steel eyes mocking.

  'I'll never be ready for you...!' she whispered, heart slamming like mad.

  'No?' he drawled against her mouth. 'Not even if I stripped you naked, very slowly, and --'

  'Oh!' Her face flamed with furious excitement. 'You really are an insolent bastard! How dare you say such things to me?'

  'I'll have your clothes off for that, Miss Shaw!' he said softly, and then his hands slid up to cover her full breasts, and as she gasped hotly his fingers tugged down the black bodice fractionally to expose her bare breasts, sending shock waves of excitement through her.

  'No!' She arched in appalled desire, her hands clutching his strong neck, and suddenly their mouths were almost touching, and as his grey gaze fell to her parted lips Caroline gave a hoarse moan of need, and a second later Mark's mouth was on hers, kissing her with a demanding passion that made her melt like molten fire.

  He was pushing her back against the cushions, his mouth burning on hers, and she went helplessly, opening to him, her mouth as defenceless against him as her body. Dizzy, she moaned as she felt his strong hands close over her breasts, stroking the erect nipples and making her gasp over and over again, her heart thudding faster as he kissed her forcefully, and she knew her nipples were painfully erect and that her own foolish hands were stroking over Mark's neck, pushing restlessly into his thick black hair as she lost her mind to the power of her body.

  The zip of her dress flared slowly down, and she started to moan in hoarse protest against his hard mouth, but he was ruthless, merciless, and he was already tugging down the black dress until she was bared to the waist.

  'God, I've wanted to do this for so long...!' he bit out thickly, and his steel eyes flashed down over her body, and when he lifted his gaze back to her face he was breathing harshly.

  'Don't look at me like that!' she heard her hoarse voice whisper.

  He stared at her mouth, then made a harsh sound under his breath as his mouth claimed it, and the kiss became desperate, their mouths moving in abject hunger. He stroked her nipples, his fingers urgent, and her whole body reacted as though burned as she arched against him, mindless now, her whole world concentrated on his passionate mouth, his strong hands and that hard, commanding body which forced her to respond.

  The harsh rap at the door made them both start, their heads jerking, eyes opening in dazed incomprehension, and the spell broke as effectively as if they had been given a douse of cold water.

  Caroline stared at him in horror, and gave a hoarse cry, covering her bare breasts with her arms, hiding her face by turning away from him, eyes tightly closed.

  'Who the hell is that?' Mark was breathing hoarsely, his face darkly flushed.

  'Room service!' Caroline whispered in sick humiliation. 'I ordered coffee...!'

  He was silent for a moment, his mouth tightening. Then he swore hoarsely under his breath, and sat up. She felt him staring at her as she flinched from him, covering herself with defenceless hands.

  'Come here!' he said with an impatience in his voice, but his hands were surprisingly gentle as he pulled her into a sitting position, zipping up her dress with deft fingers.

  'Answer it, Mark!' she said hoarsely, her face scarlet with self-contempt. 'He might use his key and --'

  'And find me making love to my beautiful secretary?' he drawled mockingly, and bent his head to kiss her mouth, a faint smile in his grey eyes. 'My God, Caroline, you really are innocent, aren't you?'

  She winced, sickened by her own behaviour, and feeling deeply ashamed as she watched him get to his feet and stride to the door.

  Caroline sat immobile on the sofa, a prisoner of her own shame, and stared through her lashes as Mark admitted the waiter and told him coolly to put the tray of coffee on the coffee-table in front of her.

  She had never before admitted the depths of her sexual desire for Mark Rider, but she was forced to now, she was absolutely staring into the mirror of truth and all she could see was herself lost in a whirlpool of excitement as she let him strip her practically naked...

  'You're not going to have time to drink that coffee,' Mark said, walking back to her when the waiter had gone. 'It's almost seven-twenty. We're going to be late unless we leave immediately.'

  'Yes, of course!' she whispered, standing up.

  He moved in front of her, staring down into her white face. 'I wish to God we didn't have to go tonight!' he said broodingly, his hands moving to her long hair. 'What I want is to stay here and make love to you for the next week!'

  Horrified, she stepped back from him, her eyes accusing. 'I'm going to marry Stephen Daly! Doesn't that mean anything to you?'

  'Damn Stephen Daly!' he said bitingly. 'And damn marriage!'

  'You can't just dismiss it like that!'

  'Watch me,' he said through his teeth, and turned on his heel, striding to the door, scooping his black cashmere coat from the chair he had flung it on when he walked in. 'Get your coat. We don't have time to hang around here having tedious arguments about your • bloody fiancé!'

  Caroline sensed that violence in him as he waited for her by the door, his face hard and his eyes like steel.

  Without another word, she followed him from
the room, sliding into her coat as she walked. She was bitterly aware of the fact that her own attraction to him was now undeniable. For months she had been able to keep him at a distance from her. She had known from the beginning that he would be able to destroy all her defences with one kiss.

  'We'll talk later tonight,' Mark said broodingly as they rode down in the lift together. 'I'll come to your room.' His narrowed eyes studied her bent head intently. 'Got that?'

  She nodded, silent and filled with apprehension. She didn't want to look at him. As for him coming to her room—well, she'd argue that one out later. She wasn't letting him into her room ever again.

  The lift doors slid open. They walked out into the foyer.

  'I'll get the car,' Mark strode coolly beside her. 'You wait—' He broke off as they stepped out through the glass doors. 'My God. It's been snowing the whole time we've been here!'

  Caroline stared at the white blanket covering the ground. 'Is it safe to drive?'

  He frowned. 'It should be. But we'll have to go slowly.'

  'At least the snow seems to have stopped. Maybe it will melt...'

  'I hope so,' Mark said flatly, and strode to the car park. 'Wait there for me!' He flung that last command over his broad shoulder with his usual brand of hard authority.

  Caroline shivered in her white coat, hands deep in pockets. The black Bentley purred towards her, exhaust fumes freezing as they entered the ice-cold air.

  Rachey's house was something of a Georgian manor, set back from the road with private gates and a large parkland estate. The guard waved them through, and they sped up to the elegant front door.

  A butler greeted them, led them through a wide white-painted hallway to a drawing-room where a fire crackled in an Adam grate and elegant furniture gleamed pale peach under a warm chandelier.

  'Mark!' Jack Rachey was a tall, handsome man of thirty with dark hair and dark eyes. He had inherited the company from his father a year ago, and didn't have the same flair as his late father for marketing the product. 'Good to see you.'

  'Hello, Jack,' Mark drawled coolly, shaking his hand. 'You look well.'

  'Thanks! So do you!' Jack turned his dark eyes smilingly to Caroline. 'And Miss Shaw! It's a pleasure to see you again!'

  'And you.' Caroline tensed, surprised when he embraced her, because they'd only met a handful of times, and always at business meetings. But she kissed his handsome cheek as though they were old friends, bearing in mind that Mark wanted her to be nice to Rachey. 'It's lovely to see the famous Rachey house at last! I've heard so much about it in the Press.'

  'You must come and stay one day.' Jack looked debonair in a grey suit. 'I often have weekend parties. It's such a big house and there's only me and the staff. I love having house guests. Especially when they're as beautiful as you!'

  'Oh!' Caroline felt rather sorry for him, all alone in this great big mansion miles from anywhere. 'That's very sweet of you! I'd love to.'

  Mark gave her a deadly look with those steel eyes. Then he said tightly, 'I have the contract with me, Jack...'

  They started to talk business, and Caroline frowned as she sat down on the couch, wondering why he had given her such an angry look.

  'Gin and tonic, Miss Shaw?' Jack asked her from the drinks cabinet.

  'Thank you.' She smiled. 'And do call me Caroline!'

  Mark's eyes narrowed on her face, making her own eyes widen at the look he gave her. What on earth was the matter with him? He had specifically asked her to be nice to Jack Rachey!

  They had a drink each, then went into the dining-room. It was an elegant showpiece of a room with mahogany table and portraits. Dinner was served by the housekeeper. It was beef consommé followed by sole in a delicious creamy white wine sauce.

  'I just don't know who to trust,' Jack Rachey was saying after the main course, and after a great deal of chilled Chablis. 'I've only had the company for a year, of course, and I get advice from everyone.'

  'Your decision to take marketing out of old hands was the right one,' Mark told him. 'My art staff are all under thirty-five and four of them are young women in their early twenties.'

  'They're very modern and forward-looking,' Caroline affirmed.

  'Like you?' Jack Rachey smiled at her, charm in his eyes.

  Caroline laughed. 'No, I'm a secretary!'

  'You're the sexiest little secretary I've ever seen!' Jack murmured, eyes drifting to her mouth. 'I don't suppose you'd come and work for me? That old dragon Father left me is driving me mad.''

  'She gets the job done, though,' Mark said flatly, eyes narrowing. 'And you obviously don't!'

  Jack gave a harsh sigh. 'You understand me, Mark! It's all true, I'm afraid. I'm just not cut out to be a big boss. I was much happier being an heir. That was fun. Driving about in sports cars, having parties, drinking champagne...'

  Caroline smiled at him. 'Poor Jack...!' He really was a complete idiot, but at least he had a sense of humour.

  Jack warmed to her even more, putting a hand on her wrist. 'I've got lots of photos stashed away of my wonderful ex-life. I don't suppose you'd care to see them?'

  'That would be lovely,' Caroline said, smiling, and glanced at Mark, hoping he was pleased with the way she was being nice to him, and almost blanched at the steely look he gave her instead.

  But Jack was standing, wine glass in one hand, Caroline's wrist in the other, and leading her out of the dining-room, talking closely to her as he held her hand. Mark followed them with a hard expression.

  'Wait there,' Jack told Caroline, leading her to the sofa.

  Mark stood in the centre of the room, his face a cold hard mask. 'It's late and we don't have time for a trip down memory lane.'

  Caroline's eyes widened at his deliberate rudeness.

  Jack straightened, walking round with a photo, album. 'Just one album, old sport,' he drawled, and sank down beside her, very close beside her. 'Miss Caroline Shaw and I are getting on like a house on fire!'

  Mark's teeth bared in a smile. 'Miss Shaw is an expert at setting houses on fire.'

  'I noticed your ring earlier,' Jack said lazily, and picked up her left hand, studying the diamond. 'Rather a tiny stone. Not your usual style, surely, Mark?'

  Mark studied him, his face a tough mask, and said nothing. He didn't need to. His eyes were dangerous enough.

  'It's not Mark's ring,' Caroline said tensely. 'I'm engaged to someone else.'

  'Ah...I thought it couldn't be Mark's,' Jack said softly.

  Mark's eyes narrowed.

  Jack Rachey smiled mischievously. 'Why have you never married, Mark? I would have thought one of your many women had the right ingredients! And you are such an eligible man, aren't you? Rich, powerful --'

  'A fascinating discussion,' Mark drawled coolly. 'But it's started to snow again. I must insist we leave at once.'

  Caroline quickly got to her feet. 'Thank you for a lovely evening, Jack,' she said.

  'How long are you staying in the area?' Jack asked, standing too.

  'Until Sunday,' Mark said flatly, hands thrust in black trouser pockets as he eyed Jack contemptuously.

  'Really?' Jack looked pleased. 'In that case, you don't mind if I invite your beautiful secretary back for lunch tomorrow? So she can see my photos, of course.'

  'Caroline is here to work,' Mark said. 'Not play.'

  'Then in that case,' said Jack with a smooth smile, 'you must come too, Mark. You can work while we play. How's that?'

  Mark's eyes were like steel knives. 'Fine. What time shall we get here?'

  'Better make it one o'clock.' Jack smiled. 'I never get up until the crack of lunch. I like to eat at around two. Makes for a nice big afternoon breakfast.'

  'One o'clock, then,' Mark said with a contemptuous flick of his lashes over the younger man. 'Caroline... ?'

  CHAPTER FOUR

  They drove home in a tense silence. When the Bentley pulled up outside the hotel, Mark got out without a word, his face hard. Caroline got out too, walked af
ter him, and almost slipped in the snow.

  Mark's strong hand was suddenly at her elbow as he supported her, treating her to a hard look through his carved lids.

  He was so tough, yet underneath that steel exterior she glimpsed a deep tenderness. He seemed to fight that capacity for tenderness. It seemed to make him angry, as though he hated himself for such a weakness and wanted to drive it out of his personality.

  In the lift, the tense silence persisted. Caroline couldn't stand it any more, so she said, 'Are you angry with me, Mark?'

  'Yes, I damned well am.' He looked at her with narrowed eyes. 'And you know why! You spent the whole evening deliberately twisting that conceited bastard round your little finger!'

  'I wasn't flirting with Jack Rachey!' Caroline cut in angrily. 'I was doing what you asked—being nice to him!'

  'You were a damned sight friendlier with him,' he said through his teeth, 'than you ever have been with any other man I've seen you with!'

  'Because you asked me to be!'

  'I keep asking you to take your clothes off—it doesn't seem to have much effect!'

  Her face flamed. 'You specifically said before we left London that you wanted me here because Jack had a soft spot for me!'

  'And you really took advantage of it, didn't you?' he said tightly as the lift doors opened. Face hard, he strode out of the lift and Caroline followed him, her green eyes flaring.

  'I did not take advantage of anything!' she said furiously, hurrying to keep up with his long-legged stride. 'Jack's obviously not interested in running that company! He just wants to drink champagne all day! When he asked me to look at his photos, what was I supposed to do? Tell him to grow up?'

  He turned suddenly, grey eyes narrowing. 'Is that what you thought?'

  Caroline almost bumped into him, breathless. 'Of course!'

  'You didn't like him, then?'

  'He was nice enough...' she said huskily. 'But silly, pampered and still a little boy beneath the debonair playboy facade.'

  'And you don't like little boys?' he murmured, smiling sardonically.

  'I don't find them attractive, if that's what you mean.'