by Annie West
She couldn’t be saying what he thought she was saying.
‘You’re telling me Adrian stalked you? That’s preposterous!’ The knot of inner tension combusted into indignation. How dared she say such a thing about Adrian?
Declan knew his kid brother. He’d virtually raised him since their parents had been immersed in business and social activities. Ade had been a great guy, without a malicious or devious bone in his body. He wasn’t a stalker.
‘You’re maligning him because he’s not here to defend himself.’
‘I’m telling you the truth.’
Declan scoured his stunned mind for words. ‘You ask me to believe he developed an obsession with you without any encouragement?’
Everything in him rejected the idea. Not Adrian. Not the brother he’d loved.
Despite his anger, Declan had been ready to consider there might have been extenuating circumstances prompting Chloe’s action. That surely she wasn’t the mercenary witch the evidence painted her. But with this allegation she’d gone too far.
‘He did.’ She met his disbelieving stare unblinkingly. ‘I gave no encouragement except that I listened. But suddenly he was talking about us as if we were a couple, with a history between us. As if we were lovers.’
‘And you weren’t lovers?’ Just thinking of it made his stomach curdle.
Chloe shook her head. ‘We weren’t. He wasn’t my type.’
Declan heard a catch in her voice as if she found it hard to speak over welling emotion.
Then he remembered Adrian, just before he died, describing how she’d dumped him to go after someone with more money. He recalled how Chloe had decided he, Declan—disfigured, antisocial and brusque to the point of rudeness—was her type. How eagerly she’d given herself to him even when, after months of celibacy, he’d forgotten how to be gentle with a woman.
What could she have seen in him then but access to his wealth and an easy lifestyle? Just as years before an ex-lover had seen him as a shortcut to a pampered life.
He shied from remembering how much Chloe had meant to him in those dark days. It had all been a sham. The fact that even now he longed for the woman he’d known then made the anger and self-contempt in his belly burn hotter.
Torn between believing in the brother he’d known and loved for a lifetime and the woman he’d fallen for in a few short weeks, how could Declan even hesitate? He’d already failed Ade once. His shoulders slumped as a leaden weight settled in his belly.
His brother had never had trouble attracting women. Nor had he been a liar. Adrian wasn’t a predator. He’d never have stalked a woman.
But then Declan hadn’t realised Adrian was prepared to kill himself, had he? The damning voice in his head made him frown.
‘He spoke of places we’d been together.’ Chloe’s creamy complexion flushed. ‘He got angry when I didn’t know what he was talking about and accused me of wanting to break off our relationship to take up with someone else.’ She bit her lip.
‘If my brother was bothering you, why didn’t you report him?’
‘I thought of it. I almost went to the police, but it was my word against his. Besides, he had a right to be in your house.’ She looked away. ‘But finally he frightened me. He was encroaching more and more and I thought—’
‘Yes?’
‘I worried about what he might do. There were days when he seemed almost normal but more when I thought he might act on his beliefs.’
‘Force you, you mean?’ Declan’s blood congealed.
She spread her hands, her gaze skimming away. ‘I don’t know. I just felt scared. That was why I left.’
‘You went because of a family emergency. That was what you told my personnel department.’
‘It’s true.’ She paused. ‘Well, I didn’t leave because of that. I left because of Adr … Your brother. But I’d no sooner got away than I discovered my foster father had had a stroke. I used the leave to be with him.’
‘Quite a coincidence.’ And very convenient.
Her gaze shot to his and energy jolted through him. He hated that she could do that to him still.
‘I suppose it is. But, believe me, I’d rather neither of those things had happened.’
Declan clenched his hands. ‘And your foster father?’ If there was a foster father. Once he’d have believed unhesitatingly. Now he’d check.
‘He’s in a private rehabilitation facility.’
‘I suppose he can vouch for what you say?’
‘No.’ Her posture wilted. ‘I didn’t want to worry him.’
‘But when he was getting better, surely you’d share your experiences with someone so close?’ He paused, watching her intently. ‘Unless you have some other intimate friend for that.’
Something disturbingly like jealousy jabbed him.
‘It was all over,’ she said flatly. ‘Your brother was dead and I saw no point worrying Ted by raking over what was finished.’
Finished because Adrian had plunged to his death.
Because Declan had failed him.
Because Chloe had driven him to it.
She sounded plausible. That stoic posture and hint of a trembling lip spoke to the inner man who still, despite everything, yearned to cherish and protect the woman he’d believed in.
But Declan couldn’t take her word for this. She forgot he knew his brother. She’d had all night to come up with a story, and that was all this was—a story to gloss over her role in his death.
‘If you didn’t go to the police, did you tell my people? My staff members have a right to safety at work.’
Her lips drew up in a pained smile. ‘I was afraid I’d lose my job if I made a complaint about your brother. Good jobs aren’t easy to find.’
‘I see.’ A convenient excuse. ‘So you have no proof. It’s your word against Adrian’s reputation.’ Disappointment filled him that she’d invent such a story. ‘How does it feel, tarnishing a man’s character when he can’t defend himself?’
Scarlet slashed high across her cheekbones. ‘It’s not like that.’
She looked the image of innocent outrage.
Yet Declan had learned long ago that people weren’t always what they seemed. Growing up with wealth, he’d discovered some would do anything for a fraction of what he had. A pity he’d forgotten that when he met Chloe.
‘You ask me to believe by brother killed himself for love of a woman he barely knew? That he imagined the great love affair that had transformed his life?’
The colour leached from her cheeks. ‘It’s not so unbelievable. Some men become obsessed with women they barely know or have only seen in photos. They build up a fantasy that’s more satisfying than reality.’
Declan shoved his chair back from the desk and shot to his feet, unable to sit while she slandered Adrian.
‘You’re an authority on the subject?’
‘Of course not. But I read—’
‘Stop!’ His voice reverberated around the panelled walls. ‘I gave you a chance to explain, Chloe.’ He shook his head. ‘But I refuse to hear more lies.’
He’d failed Adrian once. He wouldn’t do it again. Giving credence to this story would be a betrayal. The brother he’d known would never have threatened a woman.
‘They’re not lies.’
Wearily Declan unlocked a drawer in his desk and dragged it open. His stomach clenched as he forced himself to reach in. A second later he slapped a slim black volume onto the desk.
‘Then you can explain this.’
‘What is it?’ She eyed the book warily.
‘Adrian’s diary.’ He watched her expression freeze. ‘In it he details the time he spent with you. And there’s a photo of the pair of you together at Echo Point.’
Declan shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t like touching the book; it felt like trespassing. He’d read enough only to discover proof that Adrian and Chloe had been lovers—it was there in black and white—then he’d snapped it shut as nausea engulfed h
im.
When he’d left Chloe at Carinya his mind had been spinning, his emotions in a whirl. By the time he’d arrived in Sydney, he’d half talked himself into believing he’d been mistaken. Till Adrian’s diary had killed all hope.
‘Whatever he wrote wasn’t true. As for the photo, he got a tourist to take it one day when he followed me out.’
Declan didn’t answer. He turned on his heel and strode away, unable to stomach any more.
‘Where did you get it? I don’t remember seeing it.’
If she had, she’d have destroyed it. ‘I found it the day after you left Carinya. I went back there.’
Foolishly he’d sought proof that he was wrong about her. Instead he’d found Ade’s notebook locked in a bureau and with it heirloom jewellery their mother had bequeathed to Adrian. Had he withdrawn them from safekeeping to give to Chloe, to try to salvage their relationship?
Declan stared unseeing out the window. Everywhere he turned there was proof Chloe was everything he despised. He should be glad he’d learned the truth about her.
Yet he felt no relief.
Chloe stared at his broad back in that exquisitely tailored suit and felt the chasm between them yawn impossibly wide.
‘Whatever’s in the book is a product of your brother’s imagination.’ She had a sinking feeling she knew what sort of imaginings Adrian had written.
Declan swung around and her words died in her mouth. Morning sun lit one side of his ravaged face, highlighting the scar that today seemed a symbol of all the harsh emotion within. It matched perfectly the air of danger that clung to him and the martial light in his eyes.
Chloe remembered how it had been between them, the growing rapport, the sharing and the excitement. The sense that whatever fragile filament spun them together was touched with magic, bringing emotions she’d never expected to feel again. Bringing hope and happiness.
It had been an illusion. Just like the shadow of anguish she thought she read now in his eyes. She blinked and it was gone.
In the stark Sydney sunshine, Chloe saw how ridiculous her hope had been.
She’d wanted to believe this was a mistake. That, despite what he’d said last night, Declan cared for her. That he lashed out now from shock and grief; confronting the truth about Adrian must be appallingly hard.
But she’d been wrong about Declan’s feelings. He’d seduced her deliberately, unemotionally.
Pain lanced as if he’d used a knife on her.
What she’d imagined was mutual delight had been something tawdry.
Telling herself the man she’d fallen for was a mirage didn’t help. Her stubborn heart couldn’t take it in, as if, deep inside, she still believed what they’d shared was genuine.
‘I’ll never convince you, will I?’ Abruptly anger was snuffed out by a sense of loss so great it reared up to engulf all else.
Loss for what might have been and for the grief Declan still carried. This was a lose-lose situation, with both of them doomed to suffer.
Chloe wanted to reach for him, plead with him, make him believe. But his loyalty to his brother ran deep. Their relationship had spanned a lifetime. How could she expect to compete with that? He’d never take her word over his brother’s. She’d known the truth would be difficult for him to accept. Now she realised it was impossible.
Declan’s grief outweighed everything else. And she understood. Hadn’t she spent months blaming hospital staff for Mark’s death when the truth was no one could have saved him by the time he’d got there?
Declan needed someone to blame. Himself and her.
‘No. You can’t convince me.’ His tone was lifeless, like her hopes.
‘In that case I’ll go.’ Her shoulders slumped. ‘There’s no point me staying.’ Money would be tight; she didn’t know how she’d meet Ted’s costs, but she’d find a way.
‘No.’
His voice jerked her head up. ‘Sorry?’
‘You’ll stay right where you are.’
She took a step towards him then halted, reading his grim expression.
‘You don’t want me here, Declan, and I don’t want to work for a man who believes me a liar. Why prolong the bitterness?’
She spread her hands before her in unconscious appeal.
His lips twisted and for a heartbeat she thought she saw the man she’d fallen for—the one who hid his emotions behind a mask. Then he seemed to gather himself.
‘And let you just walk away? You seduced Adrian when he was vulnerable after the loss of his business, made him fall for you then dumped him without a second thought.’ He counted the accusations on his fingers.
‘You knew he was depressed. I remember you talking so convincingly about your friend with depression. That was Adrian, wasn’t it? But you didn’t raise a hand to help him.’ Another finger rose and her pulse thudded. For that, at least, she felt guilt.
‘Then you turned your sights on me.’ His eyes flashed. ‘I was easy prey, wasn’t I, Chloe? Blind. Alone. Sick with grief. A little judicious sympathy and—’
‘It wasn’t like that!’ Chloe’s heart broke anew that he could believe it of her.
‘No?’ One dark eyebrow shot up. ‘You were so convincing, you even made me …’
Chloe held her breath as she waited for him to finish. Made him what? Care for her? Love her?
Foolish, hopeful woman.
‘Was Adrian the first? Or did you start earlier with your friend, Damon Ives?’
Her breath hissed from lungs pinched tight in disbelief. Eventually she found her voice. No matter that pain made it wobble.
‘Why do you want me here, Declan? For revenge? Is that it? To make me pay somehow?’
He didn’t answer, simply watched her through narrowed eyes. Meeting his shadowed gaze, she sensed the pain he kept tightly shuttered. Her heart ached, but she couldn’t help him.
She shook her head. ‘This ends here.’ Staying would be madness. ‘I resign. I’ll work out my notice and then I’ll be gone.’ Pride stiffened her spine and kept her voice even.
She refused to run as if she was guilty. Declan mightn’t understand the significance, he was so mired in grief and denial, but it mattered to her. Pride was all she had left.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘I’M SORRY, Chloe, but Mr Carstairs has changed his mind about tonight’s dinner.’
At Susie’s apologetic tone Chloe put down the whisk and bowl and shifted the phone that had been clamped between her ear and shoulder.
‘You’re joking.’ Grimly she surveyed her preparations for an intimate dinner for two.
Declan entertained a different woman every night, reinforcing the huge chasm between Chloe and the accomplished, beautiful socialites he dated.
Steadfastly she’d concealed her hurt, telling herself it didn’t matter. Yet working out her notice became harder each day. Nevertheless it was something she had to do, to show him he was wrong about her. As a kid she’d consistently lived down to expectations. It had taken years to convince herself of her own worth and she wouldn’t relinquish that hard-fought achievement now.
She refused to run and have him see that as proof of her guilt. She’d leave with her head high.
‘He’s cancelled the dinner for two.’ Susie paused. ‘He wants something bigger. He said you’d have no trouble whipping up a cordon bleu meal for twenty. They’ll arrive at seven-thirty’
Chloe looked at her watch and felt panic swell. It would be almost impossible to organise.
Then a wisp of memory surfaced that banished practical concerns. Of her telling Declan that night in bed that she could whip up anything from a gourmet dinner for twenty to a wedding cake.
He’d remembered that?
What else had he remembered?
She shivered and tried to push away memories. But that night was still emblazoned on her brain. Not just the ecstasy, but the wonderment, the emotional awakening and the sense of connection.
Yet for him it had only been a distorted test of he
r character. Did the tests continue? Lately he’d left large sums of money lying around. Was he distracted or did he hope to catch her stealing?
Indignation burned. She’d been a rebel as a kid but never a thief.
‘He also wants you to act as hostess.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Mr Carstairs wants you to attend the dinner and help with his guests. And one more thing. He asked that you wear your green dress.’ There was curiosity now in the secretary’s tone. ‘The one with the tie, he said.’
Heat fired under Chloe’s skin as she remembered the party. The way Declan had seduced her with his touch. How the soft jersey dress had come apart in his hands and how close she’d been to coming apart too.
Shame scorched her and she cringed. It wasn’t enough to set her the impossible task of preparing this dinner. Or that he kept her on tenterhooks wondering if he really was bent on revenge. He wanted to gloat too. She’d have to sit across from Declan, watching him watch her and knowing he remembered how completely she’d been at his mercy.
It was the final straw. She’d had enough.
Chloe’s jaw firmed. She’d wear the dress. She’d show him she was completely immune to him now. Then she’d leave. She refused to stay, pining for a man who didn’t exist.
Declan couldn’t tear his eyes from Chloe, vibrant and enticing at the far end of the table.
She assumed he wanted her here to exact revenge. Yet nothing he did now could bring Adrian back.
Another man might keep her close to prevent her seducing some other guy for his money.
Though, strangely, his investigator hadn’t found evidence of previous wealthy lovers. Only a long-dead husband, a teacher. That news had floored Declan. His visceral reaction, far too like jealousy for comfort, disturbed him.
He’d found himself wondering anew about the feisty yet caring woman he thought he’d understood at Carinya. He’d wanted to take the investigator’s report at face value, proof of his own gut instinct that Chloe was that woman.
Till he remembered Adrian.
Guilt scored deep. Did he want to absolve Chloe for himself because he yearned still for the delicious, unique woman he’d known? What of Adrian, his grief and despair? How could Declan let himself believe in the woman who’d betrayed his brother so fatefully? It meant accepting Adrian had been a dangerous stalker who’d made a woman fear for her life. The idea was anathema.