by Penny Jordan
Unaware that she was the main topic of conversation in the commissionaire's flat, Genista prepared for bed. There were faint bruises on her throat, and she touched them lightly, shuddering. Jilly had warned her that Luke could be dangerous and she had laughed at her. She wasn't laughing now, and she was only thankful that it was extremely unlikely that she would ever see Luke Ferguson again. First thing tomorrow she must remind George about changing her lock. When his anger cooled she doubted that Luke would pursue her any further, but she wouldn't be able to sleep in her bed at night knowing he had a key to her apartment. Her hand crept towards her breast. The flesh still tingled from his touch, emotions she had not experienced for years rushed through her, and she was remembering Richard. Luke . . . Richard . . . her father . . . they were all the same. All men were the same; she turned her face into her pillow and allowed the frightened tears she had been bottling up from the moment Luke kissed her with such merciless contempt to flow freely at last.
CHAPTER TWO
Genista overslept—an almost unprecedented occurrence, and as she struggled to make her way to work through the crowded underground rightly or wrongly she blamed Luke Ferguson. He was the reason she had lain awake half the night, tormented by all manner of strange emotions. Forget the man, she told herself, stopping in her tracks so suddenly that the man walking behind her bumped into her, as she remembered that she had not seen George again about changing her locks. She bit her lip. She would have to try and ring through from the office. She didn't think Luke would try to use her key. He had struck her as a man of too much pride to attempt to see her again—unless his desire for revenge still burned as fiercely as it had done last night. She was being over-imaginative again, she told herself. It was over.
Bob was already seated at his desk when she walked in, his head bent over some papers. Computerstore was only a small concern; everyone worked together in one large office, except the owner and Managing Director, Brian Hargreaves, who was usually out somewhere selling the company's services. Since the news of their takeover had broken no one had seen Brian, although there were rumours that he had been offered a position on the board of their new owners. If that was the case they would need two new staff members; someone to replace Brian and someone to replace Greg, who had left the firm to take up a job in the States. Greg's loss did not particularly worry Genista. She could tolerate Greg, but she knew that beneath his surface charm lurked a particularly malicious streak which had often manifested itself in the manner in which he took her refusals to go out with him.
'Hello there! You're late!'
Jilly breezed into the office behind Genista, sighing enviously over Genista's pale lilac and cream separates. 'You always have such lovely clothes,' she complained. Jilly and her fiance were saving up to get married and consequently there was very little money to spare for new clothes. Genista had bought her outfit from Jaeger—one of the benefits of having private means, she reflected wryly. No one could have been more surprised than Genista herself when, six months after the death of her parents in a landslide in the tiny Alpine village where they were spending their 'second honeymoon', she had received a letter from a firm of solicitors in Australia informing her that she was the sole beneficiary under the will of her mother's uncle. Genista had vague recollections of her mother , talking about an uncle who had left England in disgrace, but she had never dreamed that he had built up a vast sheep station in the Australian Outback, which had been sold to his partner on his death, with the proceeds going to Genista as his only surviving relative. The money would keep her in modest luxury for the rest of her life, carefully invested, but she could not envisage life as a lady of leisure, so she had come to London, bought her apartment and set about finding herself a job which would fill the huge gap the death of her parents had left in her life.
'Hey, come back! Where were you? Having second thoughts about last night?' Jilly teased. 'So would I in your shoes. He was gorgeous—and very plainly fell hard for you. When he walked into the room and saw you he was almost transfixed—just like something out of the movies!'
Jilly was making her feel uncomfortable.
'It wasn't at all like that,' she protested. 'You're seeing things through rose-coloured glasses. All he wanted to do was go to bed with me. That's all men like him ever want.' ,_
'If you believe that then you're the one with eye trouble—like you're wearing blinkers,' Jilly retorted spiritedly. 'Honestly, Gen, I sometimes don't think you're for real! The most gorgeous male I've ever seen in my life walks into a party, takes one look at you and gives a pretty fair impression of a man who's met the love of his life, and all you can do is say that he wanted- to go to bed with you. You haven't the faintest idea! If that was all he wanted, why didn't he accept the invitation Mary was offering so blatantly?'
'Perhaps he prefers redheads,' Genista said flippantly. Jilly was being absurd. People in love were notorious for it. So she thought Luke had fallen for her, did she? She hadn't noticed!
'Who was he anyway?' Jilly asked. 'I've never seen him around before, have you, and most of the others were the usual crowd.'
'I've no idea,' Genista admitted. 'We didn't get as far as exchanging life stories.' She had no intention of telling Jilly what had happened after she had left the party; Jilly's questions awakened her own curiosity. Luke had come to the party alone, and had plainly not known many of the other guests. If it hadn't been for his air of arrogant command, and the powerfully expensive Maserati he had driven she might have put him down as one of Greg's ex-university friends; or someone who lived in the same block, but now that she thought about it, there had been an air of aloofness about Luke; a sort of aloneness, which didn't tie in with his being one of Greg's gregarious friends.
'I don't suppose you exchanged phone numbers?'
Jilly pressed wistfully, plainly convinced that her friend ought to have encouraged Luke's attentions.
'No.' Genista purposefully made the word sound final, although a tiny part of her mind wondered what Jilly would have said had she told her that Luke did have her key.
'Join me for lunch?' Jilly questioned.
'I'll try. We might have to work through. Bob wanted to work late last night, but he had to go home.' A small frown furrowed Genista's forehead. She glanced across to where Bob Norman was still bent over his papers. He hadn't seemed his normal calm self after he had spoken to his wife the previous evening, and Genista hoped there was nothing rong at home. Elaine was a charming person, although very much lacking in self-confidence. She and Bob had one son who attended a small public school, and privately Genista thought it was wrong that Elaine should live so much through her husband and son, although of course it was none of her business.
Bob smiled at Genista when she sat down at her own desk.
'Sorry I'm late. I overslept, and then Jilly collared me to chat about last night's party,' she apologised.
'So I saw,' said Bob with a smile. 'Don't let it worry you. Oh, by the way,' he added almost as though it were an afterthought, 'I've heard that our new boss is going to pay us a visit this morning. He rang me at home last night. He was hoping to get back from Amsterdam in time to do the honours, but there's been a hold-up with the Van der Wall deal.'
'Do you know much about our new owner?' Genista asked him, abandoning the chart she had been studying.
Bob shook his head. He was a tall, well-made man, still very attractive, his dark hair tinged with silver, a twinkle in his blue eyes as he studied Genista's downbent head. His manner towards her was fatherly, teasing almost, and Genista was able to enjoy his company without worrying that he might think she was attracted to him—Bob was very happily married; one of the very few who were, Genista often thought.
'All kinds of rumours were floating about while you were away,' he told her, 'but nothing concrete. The entrepreneur who built up the L.F.N. Corporation is something of a mystery man, pparently, and doesn't go in for publicity. Greg's met him. He called round at Brian
's flat when he was there.'
'And promptly found himself a new job,' Genista commented dryly. 'Hardly a good omen.'
'Oh, you know Greg—or you should do by now. An easy life and a lavish expenses account and he was happy. I suspect when he heard the firm was being taken over he saw the writing on the wall. Brian Hargreaves is an excellent man in his field, but as an administrator he's inclined to be a little lax.'
Genista knew that this was true. Computer store had a good reputation and did very well, but it could have done even better with tighter financial control, and certain members of the staff had very light duties in proportion to their generous salaries.
'You've no need to worry,' Bob assured her, as though he had read her mind. 'You're a very able worker, Gen, and there's no way I could manage without you.'
His phone rang, and Genista moved away as she heard him say sharply. 'Elaine!'
It was unusual for his wife to ring him at work, and she wondered again if something was wrong at home. Although they worked closely together and she had met Elaine, Bob was inclined to keep his private life private, and Genista had no wish to pry. She busied herself with her own work, which had piled up during her holiday, and when a sudden disturbance by the main door broke her concentration she glanced at her watch, surprised to see that the morning was almost gone.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bob leave his desk, and rather than appear curious she bent er head over her own work again, even though she had guessed that the disturbance had been caused by the arrival of their new boss. No doubt Simon, their commissionaire, had shown him up from their reception area. Genista could hear the familiar sound of Bob's voice; his introduction as he paused by the desk used by the technical sales team. Her desk was next in line, and it was very tempting to glance up while the newcomer was talking and snatch a quick look at him, but Genista fought the temptation, and was glad that she had done when he and Bob moved away from the technicians after a very brief exchange of conversation, and walked towards her.
'Now let me introduce you to Gen, my assistant,' she heard Bob saying. 'She's a real asset to the firm. A hard worker . . .'
'Yes, I've already heard a great deal about Jennifer.'
Genista felt as though someone had just poured ice-cold water down her spine. She would have recognised that voice anywhere!
'Jennifer?' she heard Bob say in a puzzled voice. 'Oh, I see! No, the Gen is short for Genista, not Jennifer. I suppose really it's a crime to shorten such a beautiful name.'
'Genista!' There was no discernible inflection in the cool male voice as he repeated her name. Genista had been staring at the faint stripe of darker grey running across his pale grey tie while he spoke, but now she lifted her eyes from the tie to the cool grey eyes which almost matched it, her stomach lurching betrayingly, despite the fact that she had recognised his voice the moment she had heard him speak.
'Genista!'
He held out his hand and she had no option but to place her own in it. In an immaculately tailored pale grey mohair suit and a fine silk shirt he looked very different from the man in black shirt and jeans who had pursued her down that narrow alleyway and kissed her so fiercely against her will, but he and this cool imposing stranger whom Bob was introducing as Luke Ferguson, head of the L.F.N. Corporation, were undeniably one and the same person.
She met his eyes as bravely as she could, and saw instantly that his shock had been as great as hers. Greg had known who he was, she remembered bitterly, and had no doubt enjoyed watching her put her career at risk. Well, he could fire her if he liked. In fact it would probably be better if he did, because there was no way she could continue to work for Computerstore if it meant that by doing so it would bring her into contact with him!
'So you're Bob's assistant?'
There was an odd inflection to the way he said the words; a look in his eyes that sent a frisson of alarm feathering down Genista's spine. Her chin lifted automatically, her eyes defying him to say what he was thinking.
'Do I get the impression you two already know one another?' Bob commented, obviously puzzled. 'But, Gen, this morning . . .'
'I didn't realise that Mr Ferguson was to be our new boss,' she interrupted coolly before Bob could complete his sentence. Faint colour burned up under her skin as she remembered the way she had deliberately set out to humiliate Luke the previous evening. Most of the other guests at the party had been on the staff of Computerstore. It wouldn't be ong before the news of their new boss's identity got round; no doubt her colleagues were already taking bets on how long it would be before she got the sack. She would hand in her notice, she decided wildly. The moment Luke had gone she would tell Bob. The phone rang, cutting across her thoughts, and she reached for the receiver automatically, only to find Luke's lean fingers already clamped round it. He lifted it to his ear, his expression sardonic as he passed it over to her.
'For you. One of the hazards of employing a beautiful woman, I suppose—her phone never stops ringing!'
Genista could have told him that she never had private calls at the office, but instead she took the receiver from it him. The call was from the sales manager of the garage from whom she had ordered her new car. She had been promised delivery several weeks perviously, and the car had not materialised. Now it had, and he wanted to know when she wanted to pick it up. She bit her lip as she hung up. Luke had turned aside to talk to Jilly, who, despite her engaged state, was sparkling prettily up at him, and under cover of their conversation managed to attract Bob's attention.
'Are you doing anything at lunchtime?' she asked him quietly, but obviously not quietly enough. Luke Ferguson must have ears like a bat, she thought resentfully, as he turned smoothly from Jilly back to Bob. 'I'm sorry, Bob, I forgot to mention it, but I've arranged for you to have lunch with my personal assistant. He wants to talk over several plans we have for streamlining some of your systems, and I'm afraid we can't put it off because he's due to fly north tomorrow to Aberdeen for talks with one of the oil companies. There could be good contract in it for Computerstore, so I don't want to delay these talks. Sorry if it means putting off something important.'
He wasn't sorry at all, Genista thought angrily. She was quite sure he had just concocted that lunch just to obstruct her.
'Oh, not at all,' Bob said easily. 'It wasn't something that can't wait, was it, Gen? What did you want?' he teased with a grin. 'Surely not my advice on a new dress?'
Genista shook her head, wondering a little at the anger which suddenly seemed to burn in the dark grey eyes watching her so closely. 'It'll keep. I'll tell you about it later.' She had wanted Bob to go with her when she went to pick up her car. She was a little nervous about the thought of driving it for the first time in the lunchtime traffic, but she could ring the garage when he and Luke had gone and put them off until tomorrow.
'I don't suppose I would do in substitution?' Luke drawled, thoroughly disconcerting her. 'Since I've deprived you of Bob's company, offering my own instead seems a pretty fair recompense.'
'Do you think so?' Genista knew that Bob was frowning over her uncharacteristic behaviour. Jilly's mouth had fallen wide open, and Genista suspected that once they were alone the other girl would deliver another lecture, but right now she did not care.
'You'll have to forgive me, Mr Ferguson,' she added with a sweet smile, and the rather euphoric feeling that she was about to burn her boats with a vengenance, 'but I'm afraid there's simply no way you could stand in for Bob.'
It was a good exit line and she made the most of it, picking up her bag and walking swiftly towards he door before anyone else could add anything. It was lunchtime anyway, and she needed to be somewhere on her own to give herself time to recover from the shock of discovering that the new owner of the firm she worked for was none other than the man she had so grossly humiliated the previous evening. Damn Greg! He might have warned her! No doubt he had found it highly amusing. She should have remembered that he enjoyed playing tricks like that, a
nd right from the start there had been something about Luke which had set him apart from the normal run of Greg's friends, despite his casual attire. Greg could be as vindictive as the most shallow-minded women on occasions, and it was Genista's misfortune that she had made her contempt of him too plain, too often.
She couldn't eat any lunch. She picked at a sandwich and drank half a cup of coffee before returning to the office. She had expected to find it deserted, but someone was standing by her desk, and her heart missed a beat as she recognised Luke's darkly handsome features. He had been bending over studying something, but as though he sensed her presence he stood up, his palm open, something glittering metallically on it.
'I thought I'd better not give you this while any one else was around,' he said softly, 'Although perhaps I'd be doing him a favour I doubt he'd continue to support you for much longer, once he knew that he wasn't the only one with a key to your rather expensive apartment. How does he manage it?' His eyes rested contemptuously on Genista's expensive separates. 'You don't strike me as a girl with exactly modest tastes—good clothes, an apartment in a luxurious block; discreetly expensive jewellery, in fact all the trappings of a young lady of some means. And he has a wife and child to keep as well, but then I suppose when it comes to a woman as beauteful as you a man will always find the necessary, won't he, Genista?'
Genista was too stunned to speak. For a moment she thought she must have misunderstood. Luke couldn't be suggesting that she was Bob's mistress, and worse still, that he was actually keeping her? But he was, as he soon made very plain.
'If you're thinking of denying it, don't bother. Greg told me all about you, but as he kept referring to you as "Jen", I thought your name was Jennifer. I ought to have known better. I'm renowned for my astute perception; that's how I got where I am today. I knew the first moment I saw you you weren't an ordinary run-of-the-mill girl, but I allowed my desire to cloud my judgment. No wonder you wouldn't let me take you home! You're a shrewd little bitch, aren't you? Why did you encourage me in the first place, Genista, or can I guess? Perhaps you'd heard that I'm a very rich man, and you got ambitious. If a man like Bob Norman will keep you so comfortably, think what I could give you? But you got cold feet, didn't you? You decided it might be better to be safe than sorry; after all, you'd no guarantee that I would give you anything, and you might lose Bob. You should have had more courage, my dear,' he told her softly. 'The way I wanted you last night. I'd have given you anything. However, the cold light of morning brings back sanity, so perhaps you made the right decision after all. Does Bob know about last night?'