Darkness into Light

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Darkness into Light Page 4

by Carole Mortimer


  His brows rose in some surprise. ‘You’re certainly different from the women I usually meet.’

  ‘Have there been a lot of them?’

  ‘The mere fact that I consider you too young for me to answer that question tells me this conversation shouldn’t be taking place at all,’ he bit out.

  ‘But it is.’

  He made an impatient sound in his throat. ‘Woman have never figured that strongly in my life,’ he answered distantly, as if he weren’t used to people delving so closely into his private life. ‘When I want one I take one, it’s as simple as that.’

  Danny gave an inward wince at his candidness, as he had probably guessed that she would. But she freely acknowledged that he had been brought up in, and inhabited, a completely different world from her own, one where real emotions were hard to find, his very name making him a target for women and so increasing his cynicism where they were concerned. It couldn’t be easy being a Sutherland, even if he was just a nephew to Henry Sutherland.

  ‘And do you—take one—often?’ She looked at him with widely innocent eyes.

  ‘If you’re trying to ascertain how highly sexed I am let me assure you that my appetite is that of the average male. I am in no desperate need of a woman right now,’ he dismissed coldly. ‘And when I am I choose women who will not be a problem to me afterwards.’

  She had only asked the question in the hope of repaying some of the shock-value he had given out; it had backfired on her! ‘Very sensible.’ She unbent her long legs to stand up. ‘Shall we have that swim now?’

  ‘Danielle—’

  ‘Yes?’ She looked at him with calm brown eyes.

  ‘Nothing,’ he dismissed impatiently, also standing up, the small room suddenly seeming even smaller. ‘Please use the pool,’ he invited abruptly. ‘I don’t have the time to join you.’

  ‘Oh.’ She was too disappointed not to show it.

  He gave a impatient sigh. ‘Danielle, has no one ever told you it’s dangerous to show this much—’

  ‘Enthusiasm?’ she finished lightly. ‘I’ve always been the same, I don’t see any reason to change now.’

  ‘And where do you think it will get you?’ Pierce asked softly.

  When she looked into those icy grey eyes she didn’t think it would get her anywhere, not with this man, at least. Her candidness was obviously not welcome. ‘At this moment? Into the pool, I hope.’ Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she saw his sudden expulsion of air.

  Some of the tension seemed to leave the broad shoulders, too. ‘Then I won’t keep you from it any longer,’ he told her distantly.

  ‘Pierce…?’

  ‘Yes?’ He was wary again.

  Danny wished she knew what made him act that way, it made her feel uncomfortable. ‘You said your uncle is at home tonight?’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you think I might be able to see him?’

  ‘Well certainly not this evening—’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ she corrected laughingly. ‘Do you think I could see him then? I’ve been trying the last few days, but he’s been away.’

  ‘What’s it about?’

  ‘Dave Benson.’

  Pierce’s mouth tightened. ‘I’ve already told you that he has to take responsibility for the lapse,’ he bit out harshly. ‘Appealing on his behalf won’t do any good.’

  She shrugged. ‘Nevertheless, I’d still like to speak to your uncle.’

  He nodded, as if he had never doubted her determination. ‘Come over to the house tomorrow afternoon.’

  ‘He won’t mind?’ She frowned at his freely given invitation after she had had so much trouble seeing him so far.

  Pierce’s mouth twisted. ‘He never minds seeing a beautiful woman.’

  Her eyes widened with surprise. ‘How old is your uncle?’ She had assumed he would be well into his fifties.

  ‘Not too old to appreciate a beautiful woman; no man is ever that old!’

  ‘Am I beautiful?’

  He gave a husky chuckle, looking younger, lines etched beside his eyes and mouth. ‘You would make a very good businesswoman, Danielle; you don’t miss the slightest slip.’

  She shook her head, answering seriously. ‘Shrubs and flowers are much easier to understand than people, especially the sharks of the business world.’

  ‘You don’t seem to have had too much trouble with me,’ he drawled.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean—’

  ‘I know,’ he mocked. ‘I’ll tell Benson you’ll be over shortly,’ he added briskly. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any need to warn you about the ferocious guard-dogs patrolling the grounds!’

  She smiled at his derisive sarcasm. ‘You should have seen the look on your face when Fang and Killer ran towards us!’ She began to giggle, reliving the moment. ‘I wish I’d had a camera!’

  ‘I’m glad you didn’t,’ he said with self-disgust. ‘I can assure you I don’t usually make such a fool of myself.’

  No, she could tell he was very uncomfortable with the fact that he might have looked remotely silly. He was a man who was ultimately in control of any situation, had a dignity that didn’t allow for errors, a sense of self-preservation that didn’t allow others to make them either. Which brought her back to Dave Benson.

  ‘I’ll come over to the house at two-thirty tomorrow afternoon,’ she told Pierce.

  He shook his head. ‘It won’t do any good. The man is on a month’s notice.’

  ‘I didn’t know that,’ she gasped her dismay.

  Grey eyes narrowed to steely slits. ‘What did you think had happened to him?’

  ‘He told me he had received a reprimand—’

  ‘For what he did he should have received an instant dismissal!’

  ‘Then it’s lucky your uncle is a more reasonable man than you appear to be, isn’t it!’ she flashed. ‘Honestly, Pierce, how can you be so bloody-minded?’ she said impatiently. ‘Dave Benson is a good man. Good gracious, I’m as much to blame as he is!’

  ‘Perhaps you would like to be dismissed, too?’ he arched dark brows at her. ‘I’m sure it could be arranged,’ he added icily.

  In control—this man was unreasonable! ‘Surely that’s for your uncle to decide?’ she challenged, her head back, her eyes glittering defiantly.

  ‘Not necessarily,’ he said dangerously soft.

  ‘I think you’ve been shut in behind these ten-foot walls too long,’ she snapped. ‘Your judgement seems to have become warped; you’ve lost touch with the real world!’

  ‘I know the real world very well, Danielle,’ he rasped harshly. ‘Much better than you, if you did but know it!’

  She shook her head. ‘I still like and trust people, Pierce; do you?’

  He looked dangerous as his mouth tightened ominously. ‘Certain members of my family I like—although not all. And I trust no one.’

  ‘How sad for you,’ she said instantly.

  ‘Not at all,’ he drawled. ‘It makes life a lot easier.’

  ‘But lonelier.’

  ‘Loneliness is a condition of the mind, not the body. You can be alone in a room full of people, just as you can be completely fulfilled in a room on your own.’

  ‘Ah, but which is preferable?’

  ‘For me? The latter. For you it’s obviously the former,’ he added mockingly.

  ‘Don’t presume that you know me just because I’m basically a forthright person,’ Danny bit out curtly. ‘I have as many complexities as the next person! Maybe not as many as you,’ she added bitchily. ‘But then I think that would be quite difficult!’

  His mouth quirked with amusement. ‘You have a temper I would never have guessed at,’ he drawled. ‘I presume that can be attributed to the red in your hair.’

  ‘It can be attributed to the fact that you make too many presumptions.’ She glared at him.

  ‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful when you’re angry?’ he taunted.

  ‘I don’t know anyone that corny
!’

  His amusement deepened as he took her in his arms, stilling her struggles by pinning her arms at her sides. ‘I’ll admit my verbal technique may be a little hackneyed,’ he murmured softly, ‘but my physical one isn’t!’

  She soon found that out, the kisses they had shared the other evening nothing compared to this onslaught. Pierce crushed her to him, bending her to his will, his mouth plundering and possessing her own until she could only cling to him.

  Her arms crept up about his neck as she raised up to meet the fire of Pierce’s lips, her breasts pressed into the hardness of his chest, the nipples aching and hard. They didn’t ache for long as Pierce pushed her T-shirt up her body, bending his head to suckle at each throbbing tip, the tugging caress causing a languid ache between her thighs, an ache that he caressed with the palm of his hand, the circular motions bringing moist heat to her body.

  ‘Pierce…?’

  He raised his head to look down at her with glazed eyes. ‘I could lay you down on this carpet and take you right now!’ he scorned harshly, his mouth twisting as she made no denial. ‘But I’m not going to.’ He pushed her away from him, pulling her T-shirt down over the heavy weight of her breasts. ‘I haven’t lost touch with that reality!’

  Danny turned away, her arms wrapped protectively about her waist. ‘I’ve changed my mind about the swim,’ she told him hollowly. ‘If you could just tell your uncle I’d like to see him.’

  He gave a heavy sigh. ‘Danielle…’

  ‘Do you always leave your women feeling this empty?’ she asked dully.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your technique is good, Pierce.’ She turned to face him. ‘But when that’s all it is it’s apt to leave the recipient feeling in a vacuum.’ If the truth were known she felt a victim of her own attraction for this man. Because she did still find him attractive, she just didn’t understand him, doubted if anyone did. ‘Maybe it’s all to do with the fact that you don’t like people, even women.’ She shook her head. ‘I feel sorry for you.’

  ‘Don’t,’ he scorned mockingly. ‘I can always pay a woman to like me.’

  ‘But do you like them?’

  ‘Does that really matter?’

  She had been wrong about this man, he didn’t want to find real emotions, preferred to pay for false ones. He was a man who was simply beyond her comprehension. ‘Obviously not,’ she said flatly, numbed by such coldness.

  ‘Definitely not,’ he derided. ‘Henry will expect you tomorrow,’ he told her abruptly before leaving, the faint aroma of his aftershave left elusively in the air.

  * * *

  The house had been completely redecorated and refurnished since Mrs Prendergast died and the estate had been sold to Henry Sutherland. Gone were the faded, slightly fraying carpets, and the worn furniture, and in their place were thick deep-pile carpets and Persian rugs, the furniture still antique, but in excellent condition, the decor mellow and relaxing. It had always been a beautiful house, now it looked magnificent.

  Danny hadn’t actually been inside it since Henry Sutherland took over and made the changes, and it was good to see that they had been improvements; she still wasn’t too sure about the helicopter-pad and swimming-pool outside.

  Dave Benson had escorted her over to the house, asking her not to go through with talking to Henry Sutherland, that their employer had a perfect right to dismiss him, that he had acted like a damn fool. But Danny was well aware that if it hadn’t been for her he wouldn’t have done such a potentially dangerous thing. She had to at least try to justify his actions to Henry Sutherland, even if it got her nowhere.

  Remembering what Pierce had mockingly said about his uncle appreciating a beautiful woman she had taken advantage of the information to put on a black sun-dress that clung alluringly to her slender curves and emphasised her heavy breasts, the high heels of her sandals showing the slender grace of her legs to advantage, her hair newly washed and loose about her shoulders, her makeup light and attractive.

  ‘Mr Sutherland will see you now,’ the housekeeper smiled at her as she showed her in to Henry Sutherland’s office.

  It was a big room, had been the small drawing-room when Mrs Prendergast lived here, the walls now lined with leather-bound books, heavy leather furniture dominating one end of the room in front of the unlit fireplace, a wide desk in front of the window.

  But it wasn’t a fifty or sixty-year-old man who sat behind the wide mahogany leather-topped desk. Pierce wore a dark navy blue suit and white shirt, giving him a remote appearance, his expression closed, the grey eyes narrowed to icy slits as he watched her.

  And as Danny looked at him it all fell into place, his remoteness, his distrust of people, the almost fanatical interest he took in the estate’s security, the authority he wielded without seeming to be aware of it, the fact that, although she had made the assumption, she had never actually heard of a nephew called Pierce. That was because there wasn’t one, Pierce was Henry Sutherland!

  CHAPTER THREE

  SHE recovered from the shock well; perhaps subconsciously she had already guessed at his identity. Pierce was so very cynical, so distrustful, it had been difficult to believe that was just because he was a relative of Henry Sutherland.

  ‘Mr Sutherland.’ She put her hand out steadily. ‘Shall I continue to call you Pierce? Or would you prefer Henry? Or perhaps just Mr Sutherland?’ She met his narrowed gaze blandly. ‘Perhaps Mr Sutherland would be more appropriate, in the circumstances,’ she added drily.

  God, it was embarassing when she remembered some of the things she had said about this man to his face without realising she did so, her scorn for his passionate guarding of his privacy evident from the moment she had unthinkingly called him Howard Hughes!

  ‘Pierce will do,’ he bit out icily. ‘How long have you known who I am?’

  She sighed. ‘Just this moment, unfortunately.’

  ‘Unfortunately?’

  ‘Well, you don’t think I would have been so disparaging about Henry Sutherland if I’d known it was you, do you?’ she said disgustedly. ‘Although you must have found my candidness very amusing.’

  ‘Not particularly,’ he drawled, frowning. ‘I expected anger from you once you learnt the truth.’

  She gave a rueful smile. ‘I used up this week’s anger ration last night. Why did you keep up the pretence as long as you did?’

  ‘At first it amused me to be someone else for a change, then I found I was quite enjoying it. Being Henry Sutherland can be tiresome at times.’

  ‘I’m sure it can.’ She grimaced.

  ‘At least you didn’t question how I could possibly find it tiresome having all that money!’ he rasped.

  ‘I can imagine it could get a bit claustrophobic at times.’

  ‘Very perceptive of you!’ he drawled.

  ‘So for a while you became Pierce Sutherland.’

  ‘I didn’t become him, I am him,’ he rasped. ‘I’m Henry Sutherland the Fourth, and that many Henrys in one family can be confusing, especially when you’re a child. I became known to my family by my second name.’ He grimaced. ‘Thank God!’

  She had to admit he didn’t look much like a Henry, but with hindsight he certainly acted like the billionaire he was. His cynicism came from being treated like a god since he had inherited the Sutherland fortune at a very young age, his scepticism and distrust of people came from all those who had tried to use him over the years, his contempt for women because of all the ones that had made themselves available to him, at a price, over the last twenty years.

  ‘I presumed Henry Sutherland would be much older somehow,’ she frowned.

  ‘Yes,’ he drawled. ‘Although my thirty-nine years often weigh as heavily as seventy!’

  She chewed on her bottom lip. ‘So where do we go from here?’

  The grey eyes narrowed warily. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I’d hoped to appeal to Henry Sutherland on Dave Benson’s behalf; knowing that Henry is you has made it a little poi
ntless.’

  Pierce’s mouth twisted. ‘I must say you came dressed for the part,’ he derided, the heat of his gaze passing over her with insolent appraisal. ‘Were you hoping to impress the old man?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He began to smile. ‘Danielle Martin, what am I going to do with you?’

  ‘Listen?’ she said hopefully, encouraged by the softening of his manner.

  He stood up, moving round the desk to sit on its edge. ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Unbiasedly?’

  He shook his head. ‘I can’t promise that.’

  ‘Dave Benson is a good man. He—’

  ‘What does he mean to you?’

  She gave him a puzzled look. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘You can’t be that na$iUve, Danielle,’ Pierce drawled.

  Colour suddenly flooded her cheeks. ‘He’s old enough to be my father!’

  ‘He’s only five years older than me,’ he pointed out drily. ‘And my feelings towards you are far from fatherly!’

  ‘He’s married…’

  ‘So?’

  ‘I may use up next week’s quota of anger in a minute!’ She frowned fiercely. ‘I like Dave, he’s a very nice man. I like his wife and children, too. I had them all over to tea one Sunday. I’m not so stupid that I don’t realise a wedding ring means that neither of the couple suddenly stops looking at the opposite sex, but I do not get involved with married men. That’s taking your damned cynicism too far!’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he acknowledged in a bored voice.

  ‘There’s no perhaps about it,’ she told him impatiently. ‘Dave Benson is my friend, and I stick by my friends. I’m sure that makes me an idiot in your eyes, but it’s the way I am!’

  ‘Yes,’ he acknowledged uninterestedly.

  ‘I’ve never met anyone as cynical as you are,’ she said frustratedly.

  ‘And I’ve never anyone as na$iUve as you are,’ he scorned. ‘Do you think, if the places were reversed, Benson would come to me in the same way?’

  ‘I don’t give a damn what he would do,’ she snapped. ‘The roles aren’t reversed, and it’s partially my fault he’s been sacked.’

 

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