Substitute Fiancee

by Lee Wilkinson

  She made her way from the room, the imposing double doors clicking too quietly behind her, and, looking neither to right nor left, returned to her office.

  Having placed the reports neatly on the desk, she was gathering up her coat and personal belongings when her PA hurried in.

  Over the past couple of years the two women had become friends, and, clearly distressed, Joanna burst out, 'I could kill that two-timing swine—and his fiancée...'

  Fran, unable to speak, gave the other woman a quick hug.

  Crossing the main lobby for the last time, heels clicking on the tiles, she passed Sherrye Kaufmann, whose dark, glittering glance held undisguised triumph.

  Then, in a state of shock, feeling no pain yet, she walked away from friends and colleagues; from a hard-won job she had enjoyed and been good at; from a man she had trusted and given her heart to.

  It seemed her mother had been only too right when she'd preached the doctrine that men were deceivers and women fools to trust them...

  'I dare say you remember Sherrye?' Blaze's question broke into her bleak thoughts.

  'How could I forget her?' Fran answered wryly, and, knowing he must have had a full account of what had taken place, felt her colour rise.

  'Do you still hate her?'

  'I never did.' Oddly enough it was the truth.

  'You had every right to. Her outrageous behaviour cost you your job.'

  'My own stupidity did that,' Fran said crisply.

  Dark grey eyes on her half-averted face, he pursued, 'So you didn't blame her?"

  Full of shame and guilt, of self-reproach and bitter regret at her own culpability, Fran had set the burden of blame squarely on her own shoulders.

  'On the contrary. When I thought about it I felt sorry for her.'

  'Sorry for her?' Blaze sounded staggered.

  Turning towards him, she said flatly, 'For loving a man who, as soon as his fiancée's back was turned, was more than willing to seduce any woman who came along.'

  Despite her attempt to speak dispassionately, her anger and disillusionment at his perfidy came through.

  His attractive face hardened. 'Now there you're wrong—on all counts. Firstly, you weren't just any woman, as I would have told you at the time had you stopped to listen. Secondly, Sherrye loved my money and the lifestyle I could offer her. Never me. Thirdly, our engagement was ended before I left the States. Otherwise she would have travelled with me.'

  'Ended?'

  'When we first became engaged I warned her that I wouldn't stand for her sleeping around. One afternoon I walked in unexpectedly and caught her in bed with the houseboy. I ordered her to take her things and get out. Though she cried, swore such a thing would never happen again and begged me to change my mind, as far as I was concerned the whole thing was over.'

  'She was still wearing your ring.'

  'I told her to keep it.' With a twisted smile, he added, 'A kind of payment for services rendered. She didn't think it was enough, and threatened to sue me. I invited her to go ahead. Knowing there was no way she could win, she waited for a while, hoping I'd cool off, before following me to England to try to persuade me to take her back.

  'The scene she kicked up in the boardroom was almost certainly caused partly by anger and jealousy at the thought that she'd been replaced, and partly in the hope of driving you away. When she succeeded she must have been cock-a-hoop; she certainly looked it when she arrived at my flat. Finding I was just about to start for the airport, she offered to go to Hong Kong with me.

  'I knew she meant trouble, so I told her in no uncertain terms to get out of my life and stay out.

  'Unfortunately, though I didn't know it then, the damage was already done...

  'It wasn't until I got back from my trip and had a word with your PA that I discovered what had happened. I went straight round to your flat. Your landlord said you'd moved out the previous day and left no forwarding address.

  'I tried to find you, but obviously I looked in the wrong places.'

  An iron band tightened round Fran's ribs, restricting her breathing. Was it possible he'd cared!

  In a strangled voice, she asked, 'Why did you try to find me?'

  'Why do you think?'

  She shook her head mutely.

  'Perhaps I didn't like the idea of being misjudged,' he said mockingly. Then, with an abrupt change of subject, 'What do you know about Varley's affairs?'

  'Affairs?' She was startled, and showed it.

  'I meant business affairs.'

  'Why n-nothing,' she stammered.

  'You don't mean to tell me you weren't aware that the firm's on the verge of bankruptcy?'

  'Bankruptcy? I don't believe it! I'm sure it's nothing of the kind.' But, even as Fran strenuously denied the charge, she recalled Kirk saying, 'Trade hasn't been up to much for the past year or so...'

  His face stem, Blaze went on relentlessly, "The business has been going steadily downhill ever since the old man died and his son took over. For one thing, Varley's no businessman, and for another, he's a great deal too fond of the good life.'

  Catching a glimpse of Fran's expression, Blaze suggested drily, 'You think that's an instance of the pot calling the kettle black?'

  'Isn't it?'

  He grinned briefly. 'The difference is, the pot can afford it; the kettle can't. Varley tried gambling to help finance his more expensive tastes—'

  'Gambling?' She was horrified.

  'It proved to be a big mistake. He began to mix with an unsavoury crowd, people oh the fringes of the underworld...'

  Fran shook her head, not wanting to believe it. Refusing to believe it.

  But Blaze continued regardless, 'He's run up massive debts, both business and private, with damn all assets.'

  'There's the stock.' Even as she spoke she recalled Kirk explaining to the staff that because of the slump in trade he was keeping stock to a minimum.

  'A drop in the ocean compared to what he owes,' Blaze said dismissively.

  She battled on. 'He has a luxurious apartment.'

  'Which is mortgaged up to the hilt.'

  Her mouth dry, she demanded, 'How do you know all this?'

  'Before I agreed to let Varleys redesign the necklace I hired Ritters Detective Agency to check the firm out. A report came back that the business was an old-established family concern with a reputation for absolute soundness and integrity. It was only later, when I was alerted by a chance remark made by one of my financial advisors, that I instructed the agency to dig deeper.

  'Varley had been both clever and careful, and it took them some time to uncover the true state of affairs. Even when they did there was a slip-up, and I didn't get the information until a couple of days ago.'

  Struggling to take in what she'd just heard, Fran muttered dazedly, 'I just can't believe it. There must be some mistake.'

  'There's no mistake.'

  She tried not to be shaken by his absolute certainty. 'But even if what you say is true, and I'm quite sure it isn't, what difference can it make? To you, I mean...'

  'My dear Francesca, I've always given you credit for being an intelligent woman.'

  'I don't know what you're getting at.'

  He laughed, with a gleam of white healthy teeth. 'I must congratulate you.'

  Genuinely bewildered, she echoed, 'Congratulate me? On what?'

  'On your acting ability. Did your college curriculum include drama lessons?'

  'I really don't know what you mean,' she said stiffly.

  'I mean Varley would be proud of you... And, speaking of Varley, don't you think it's odd that he hasn't turned up yet? You've been here for quite a while.'

  'Surely it depends on what delayed him?'

  'He hasn't even phoned.'

  'He may not have had the chance.'

  Blaze sketched an ironic salute. 'You're also very loyal, and though I think your loyalty is misplaced, I admire you for it.'

  'You're much too kind,' she said drily.

  'And
you're much too sassy.' His tone held a hint of steel, his words a veiled threat that made her wish she'd kept quiet.

  Oh, where on earth was Kirk? she wondered with something close to desperation. If only he'd come...

  Rising to his feet, tall and dark and formidable, a force to be reckoned with, Blaze suggested, 'Suppose we take a stroll? Stretch our legs before dinner?' His tone was now pleasantly neutral.

  Rather than taking a stroll with him, she would have preferred to escape from his disturbing presence and be alone.

  So much had happened that she felt almost giddy with the strain of trying to keep abreast of things. She longed for time to evaluate and hopefully disprove Blaze's allegations that Kirk was on .the verge of bankruptcy, to dismiss all this ridiculous talk of gambling and the underworld...

  She wanted a chance to think, to put into perspective what she'd learnt about his engagement to Sherrye, to reflect on how different her own future might have been had she stood her ground instead of running...

  But, perhaps most of all, she needed to try and make sense of her host's enigmatic behaviour, and the strange undercurrents she could sense...

  Becoming aware that he was watching her face and waiting, and knowing she could hardly tell him the truth, she hurriedly sought for a convincing reason not to go.

  'I think I'd sooner rest quietly in my room. When my bag was snatched I scraped my knees, and they're starting to feel stiff...'

  Blaze's wry expression suggested he knew an excuse when he heard one.

  'Let me see.' He went down on his haunches by her chair, and before she could object brushed aside her skirt. 'Dear, dear...' Studying the grazes on her smooth, shapely knees, he tutted.

  Then, head tilted back, he glanced up at her and, his eyes gleaming between thick, dark lashes, announced with mock gravity, 'However, I don't think your injuries are serious enough to prevent you taking a walk.'

  Straightening up, too close for comfort, he offered her a hand, adding, 'In fact a bit of exercise might loosen things up, do you a world of good.'

  Biting her lip in vexation, but seeing nothing for it, she took the proffered hand and tried not to shiver at the tingle his touch caused as he pulled her to her feet.

  Reluctantly, and in silence, she was following him across the terrace when a young maid appeared to clear away the tea things.

  Blaze paused. 'Oh, Hannah,' he said pleasantly, 'will you ask Cook to hold dinner until I give the word?'

  The girl made a little bob.

  Turning to Fran, his smile quizzical, he added, 'Must allow the missing pair every chance to get here, don't you think?'

  His hand at her waist, he escorted her down a shallow flight of stone steps and across the driveway. A moment later they were walking on smoothly shaven green lawns.

  The sun was low on the horizon, its oblique rays making the trees cast long, dark shadows, but the early evening air was still golden and balmy. A warm breeze played with the ends of Fran's scarf and ruffled Blaze's dark hair, making him look even more attractive.

  'Shall we head for the lake?' he asked.

  'Whatever you say.'

  Grey eyes amused, he murmured, 'I do like a tractable woman.'

  Fran spoke without thinking. 'Nice as she is, from what I've seen of her, I wouldn't put Miss Ross in that category.'

  'And you would be quite right,' he agreed smoothly. 'Melinda has a will of her own and a very clear idea of what she wants.'

  'And you don't find that a handicap?'

  Smiling a little at the irony, he answered cheerfully, 'On the contrary. A wife who is too compliant would be a bore. I wanted a woman who was compatible, and basically good-tempered, but with enough spice to make life interesting.'

  'It sounds as though you chose with your head rather than your heart,' she observed.

  'Anyone who doesn't is a fool.'

  'Then you've never been in love?'

  His expression sardonic, he said, 'Oh, yes, I have. But I don't believe that love necessarily makes for a happy marriage...'

  Remembering what he'd told her about his parents' marriage, she wasn't surprised.

  'Or lack of love, an unhappy one,' he added with an air of finality.

  She chose her words with care. 'So you would be happy to marry without love if all the other factors were present?'

  'It makes more sense than marrying for love when they're not.'

  'You wouldn't wait and hope to find both?'

  "That would be the ideal, of course, but it happens so rarely.' His face grew sombre. 'And then it doesn't always work out. In my considered opinion, love is best left out of the equation.'

  'Suppose your chosen partner didn't feel the same?'

  'One-sided loving, you mean? To be steered clear of at all costs! It unbalances a relationship and can only cause trouble when one partner wants more than the other can give. If both partners go into marriage with a set of clearly defined rules and no emotional hang-ups,' he went on briskly, 'it's much more likely to succeed.'

  His words only confirmed what Melinda had already made plain: that their forthcoming marriage was in the nature of a carefully planned merger.

  With a little shiver, Fran objected, 'It sounds too much like some kind of business deal.'

  'And why not? Why shouldn't I plan my marriage with as much care as I plan my business deals? As I make many deals, and I only intend to get married once, it's a great deal more important.'

  How could a man she knew was quite capable of being warm and romantic act this way? 'It just seems so...so cold and unfeeling.'

  'Oh, I don't think it will be that.' His sideways glance was mocking. 'There's enough passion on both sides to guarantee good sex. What more could anyone ask?'

  In Fran's opinion, a great deal. She had always believed that love and sex went hand in hand, that sex alone was unfulfilling, as disappointing as an empty fire-grate on a snowy day.

  'Just suppose, when it was too late, one of you fell in love with someone else?'

  'That would be a complication,' Blaze admitted. 'But hopefully we wouldn't let it make any difference. No matter what the poets would have us believe, it should be possible to stifle unwanted feelings... You look doubtful?'

  'No, I'm sure you're right.' It wasn't easy, in fact it was the hardest thing she'd ever done, but it was possible.

  He raised a dark brow. 'Do I detect a shift in attitude? Have I converted you to my way of thinking?'

  Shaking her head, she said, 'I still don't believe you can deal with human emotions as though they were figures on a balance sheet. At least not long-term. And, to me, marriage should be a commitment that lasts a lifetime.'

  'Well, there at least we see eye to eye.'

  Something more fundamental than mere curiosity drove her to ask, 'Then you don't visualise an open marriage?'

  'You mean with both partners free to roam?'

  She nodded.

  'No, I don't,' he said shortly. 'I'm prepared to stick as closely as possible to the vows I've made, and I expect my wife to do the same. As well as fun and excitement, I want a stable marriage and a happy home for our children.'

  Recalling the day she and Kirk had been lunching with Melinda, and a small child had been sitting with her parents at the next table, Fran's heart sank.

  The little girl, chubby and dimpled, had turned a big, beaming smile in their direction. Fran had smiled back, but Melinda had merely looked uncomfortable.

  'Not fond of children?' Kirk had asked.

  'No, I'm not,' the American had admitted with disarming frankness. 'But as I need this marriage to go through, I didn't think it would be wise to say so. An agreement to have children is written into the settlement the lawyers drew up.' She had pulled a face.

  'Of course, I can stall for as long as possible, but my future husband is far from being a fool. Sooner or later he's going to realise that I've no intention of sticking to the bargain, and then there'll be heap-big trouble.

  'Though he can be extremely g
enerous—he bought me the Porsche for a wedding present—he can also be quite formidable when he's crossed. If things get too hot I may have to cut and run...'

  Fran had felt disturbed and off-put. From whichever angle she'd looked at it, that kind of cold and calculated 'bargain' had seemed somehow distasteful.

  Finding herself unable to condone the other woman's lack of principle, and feeling precious little sympathy for Edward Balantyne, she had made an effort to put what was really no business of hers out of her mind.

  Now she felt a sudden sharp concern.

  It just went to prove that a business-type settlement could fall down where a loving talk might have brought things into the open...

  Becoming aware that Blaze seemed to be waiting for an answer to a question she hadn't even heard, Fran said vaguely, 'I'm sorry?'

  'I asked, was your parents' marriage a good one? Did you have a happy home? It's something you've never talked about.'

  'No, it wasn't happy,' she admitted. 'My mother was a single parent. When her lover discovered she was pregnant, instead of standing by her he left her flat. He didn't even help financially.

  'Being abandoned to bring up a child alone made her warped and bitter. Afraid that I would make the same mistake, she drummed it into me that men weren't to be trusted...'

  'I see,' Blaze said slowly.

  Flushing a little as she recalled their first meeting and her own unrestrained response to his lovemaking, she added a shade awkwardly, 'You may not believe that.'

  'Oh, but I do. And it explains something that's always puzzled me... Why such a passionate woman was still a virgin at twenty-three.'

  As her colour deepened still further he harked back to ask, 'So what plans have you for your marriage?'

  'None as yet. Everything's happened so quickly... Though Kirk suggested a spring wedding.'

  'Are you living together?'

  The blunt question threw her somewhat, but, recalling his frankness, she found herself answering, 'No... Yes... Well, we will be.'

  Blaze lifted a quizzical brow.

  'Kirk asked me to move in with him, and he helped me take my things over to his place just before he left for the airport.'

  'But you're not yet living at his apartment.' It was a statement rather than a question.