The girl at his side looked very young, like an untouched rose fresh with dew. The article said Caroline Maughan was nineteen, and she was described as a redhaired beauty. Redhaired and nineteen, as Lori would have been five years ago. Was it possible that Nigel hadn’t been able to forget her either, that he had married someone as much like her as possible? Her heart cried for him if that were the case, as it cried for herself. The Randells had much to answer for—and they would answer…
* * *
None of her resentment showed the next day as she went about her duties as Luke Randell’s secretary. And if she leant a little too close as she bent over his desk, or her skirt rode up a little too high as she took dictation, then she gave no sign of noticing it.
But Luke Randell did. He often watched her when he thought she wasn’t aware of it, and he was totally aware of her as she moved quietly about the office.
He was out of the office towards late morning, and it was while he was out that Jonathan came to see her. She felt terrible about refusing to go out with him, and had to make it clear to him that she intended to keep refusing him, and the four telephone calls she received for Luke Randell from a husky-voiced American woman did little to improve her mood.
Luke accepted his messages when he came back, making no comment about the repeated telephone calls from the woman called Marilou. As the woman hadn’t left a return number Lori could only assume that he knew where to reach her. She hadn’t taken into account, when she thought of her plan for revenge, that Luke might have a girl-friend. It could delay things somewhat.
‘I’ll be out to lunch,’ he came through to tell her a few minutes later, very dark and distinguished in a brown three-piece suit, his shirt pale cream.
‘Yes, sir,’ she accepted coolly.
He stopped by her desk. ‘Are you going to lunch yourself?’
She shrugged. ‘I would doubt it.’ She usually brought a sandwich back to the staff-room.
‘No Jonathan today?’
Lori’s mouth tightened at the taunt. ‘Jonathan isn’t my boy-friend. I’ve only been out with him twice.’ She was very aware of her refused lunch invitation with him.
‘Since I’ve been here?’
‘Yes.’
His eyes narrowed as he looked into her composed face. ‘Protection, Lori?’ he said softly.
‘Hardly,’ she scorned.
He sighed. ‘You could give me a little encouragement.’
‘Would Marilou like that?’ She quirked one mocking brow.
Luke smiled, the harshness of his face instantly dispelled. ‘I doubt it, she’s a possessive little minx.’
‘Then perhaps you shouldn’t keep her waiting,’ she said waspishly.
He perched on the edge of her desk, the hard length of his thigh pressed up against the carriage of her typewriter so that she couldn’t work even if she wanted to. ‘Are you going to be one of those secretaries that knows my every move before I know it myself?’ he taunted softly.
Lori’s head was bent back as she looked at him, her hair soft and silky to her shoulders. ‘I thought you were the one who knew my every thought before I knew it myself,’ she reminded him huskily, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue, the movement apparently unknowingly provocative.
Luke’s eyes narrowed even more. ‘I thought I did,’ he told her slowly.
‘And what do they tell you now?’
He moved forward, his hand clasping her chin between forceful fingers. ‘They tell me… They tell me…’ Icy grey eyes searched enigmatic brown ones, almost gold with a lighter circle around the iris.
‘Yes?’ she prompted throatily.
He shook his head, sitting back with a smile as he released her. ‘They tell me only what you want them to tell me. You’ve put up a shield, Lori,’ he mused.
She masked her irritation. ‘Are you sure you haven’t just lost your touch?’ she taunted.
Luke stood up with a laugh. ‘I’ll let you know after lunch,’ he mocked.
Lori glared after him as he left the office. So she had been right about him lunching with the sexy-voiced Marilou. No doubt he would be longer than the usual hour.
About that she was wrong. He returned promptly on the hour, a tiny blonde-haired woman clinging to his arm. Obviously Marilou. And she wasn’t as old as she appeared, once looked at closely, possibly in her early twenties at the oldest. First Nigel and now Luke Randell! Didn’t men go out with women over twenty-one any more?
Luke made the introductions. ‘Marilou decided she had to see the stuffy place I traded in my air-conditioned, super-modern office in the States for,’ he explained teasingly.
‘It isn’t stuffy at all, honey,’ the young girl looked appreciatively around the elegance of the light and airy office. ‘And Miss Parker isn’t at all what I imagined either.’ She looked speculatively at Lori.
Luke smiled, obviously enjoying himself. ‘Really?’ he drawled. ‘And just how did you imagine her?’ His expression was mocking as he looked at Lori.
‘Older,’ Marilou said without evasion.
He gave a throaty chuckle of enjoyment. ‘And instead she’s almost as young as you are. And almost as beautiful.’
Lori saw how Marilou blossomed under this deliberate flattery, her own gaze cool as she looked over at Luke, seeing the mockery in the clear grey depths of his eyes. He was enjoying the younger girl’s jealousy—was perhaps hoping to make her a little jealous too? For such a sophisticated man he was being a little obvious. She doubted if he usually entertained women in his office, or that he usually had to go to these lengths to attract a woman.
Luke’s eyes narrowed as he seemed aware of the thoughts flickering through her mind, his mouth twisting sardonically. ‘Time you were going, minx,’ he told Marilou firmly, turning her towards the door. ‘Lori and I have a lot of work to do.’
Typical—Marilou had served her purpose, now it was time to send her away like a good little girl! Lori turned away in disgust, picking up some files to begin putting them away. Nevertheless, she was aware of the other couple standing a short distance away.
‘Tonight, Luke?’ Marilou said throatily, her arms up about his neck. ‘Please, honey! I’ll be very lonely without you.’
Luke’s hands linked loosely at the base of her spine, curving her body into his. ‘I could be busy tonight,’ he smiled to take the rejection out of his words.
‘Working?’ she pouted.
‘Working,’ he nodded.
‘With Miss Parker?’ The other girl glanced fleetingly at Lori, her eyes hard.
‘Possibly,’ he returned noncommittally. ‘It depends on whether or not I can persuade her to join me.’
‘You’ll persuade her,’ Marilou said throatily. ‘I have first-hand knowledge of your persuasive powers.’
‘Don’t let your father hear you say that!’ He moved away from her, pushing the edges of his jacket back to put his hands in his trouser pockets, emphasising the lean flatness of his stomach, the strength of his thighs. ‘He could misunderstand it.’
Marilou ran her fingertips over his chest. ‘He sent me here to try and persuade you to come back to the States and work for him—any way I can.’
Luke put her firmly away from him. ‘I’m sure that didn’t include seduction—although I might enjoy it,’ he drawled. ‘As for going back to the States,’ he shot a look at Lori’s firmly turned back, ‘I’m quite happy where I am.’
Marilou looked at Lori too, her eyes like hard blue pebbles now. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ she snapped.
‘We’ll talk about this tomorrow, Marilou,’ he told her briskly. ‘When I take you out to dinner.
Lori moved to sit behind her desk as the other girl kissed Luke lingeringly on the lips, Marilou’s jealousy forgotten simply because he had said he would take her out tomorrow. Gullible little fool! Luke could eat up a little girl like this for breakfast and not even know it. Marilou was much too obvious for him, he was a man who would thrive on challenge, would
enjoy the chase as much as the capture.
She had deliberately made a study of him this morning, intended knowing him very well before she began her campaign of revenge. Know your enemy, that would be her motto from now on. And Luke Randell was definitely her enemy!
‘Goodbye, Miss Parker.’ Marilou’s smile was triumphant, her hips swaying suggestively as she left, her expensive perfume lingering on in the air.
Lori looked calmly at Luke as he seemed in no hurry to go into his own office. ‘Pretty girl,’ she remarked conversationally.
‘Very,’ he nodded.
‘Your last employer must value your services very highly to have sent his daughter to—talk to you,’ she said mockingly.
Dark brows rose. ‘I happen to know Marilou was scheduled for this holiday in England long before I thought about coming back. Gerry may have told Marilou to look me up while she was here, but he certainly wouldn’t tell his daughter to do more than that. She’s a very—inventive young lady,’ he drawled tauntingly.
‘I’m sure. Her mouth twisted, and she looked down at her notebook in dismissal, turning to a new page, her nails kept short for her work, painted with a pale pink gloss.
‘And what do you think of my persuasive powers?’
Without her being aware of it he had moved to stand beside her, his breath stirring the hair at her temple, the tangy smell of his aftershave discernible to her senses—deliberately so, she felt. Well, she wasn’t affected by his blatant masculinity, and she never would be!
She turned to look at him with cool brown eyes. ‘I haven’t thought of them—I wasn’t aware that you had any,’ she added softly.
He straightened, chuckling softly. ‘I’ll admit that they haven’t worked very well with you—yet. But I live in hope.’ He took his hands out of his pockets, all humour fading, at once becoming the totally capable lawyer he had been all morning.
Lori hadn’t been at all surprised by his efficiency, not after the glowing reports Claude had given him. Neither had she been surprised by the fact that he was familiar with all of Claude’s cases. He was that sort of man, he would be proficient at everything he set out to do—even at handling women like Marilou. It appeared Lori was the only weakness he had! And he would be made to pay for that weakness. But not yet; she didn’t know him nearly well enough to start her plan yet.
She took her cue from him now, wiping all expression from her face, the competent secretary to his efficiency. ‘You have an appointment in ten minutes,’ she reminded him crisply. ‘And if you really need me to work overtime I am available.’
‘No Jonathan?’
‘I already told you, no.’
‘Just checking.’ He shrugged. ‘He could have crept in here while I was out at lunch.’
Her eyes flashed, the gold circle around the iris more noticeable, her ‘cat’s eyes’, as Luke called them. ‘Jonathan has no need to creep anywhere,’ she snapped defensively on his behalf.
‘Around my office he does,’ Luke growled, his grey eyes glacial, his mouth tight.
Lori held back her smile of triumph at this display of jealousy, but her bland expression revealed none of her thoughts. ‘We’re work colleagues,’ her voice was softly self-assured. ‘It’s only natural that we should talk, swap ideas.’
His face darkened. ‘I trust Anderson doesn’t tell you about his confidential cases?’
‘Of course not!’ she flushed indignantly. ‘Jonathan is a very responsible lawyer, a very good one.’
Luke’s eyes widened. ‘You admire him?’
‘As a lawyer, yes.’
‘I—’ he broke off the conversation as the telephone on Lori’s desk pealed out. ‘Saved by the bell,’ he muttered as he went through to the adjoining office.
Lori picked up the receiver, at once engrossed in her work. It was Luke’s two-thirty appointment arriving downstairs in reception, and the client was in with him for the next hour. After that it was a race against the clock, Luke needing a confidential report typed and ready for him first thing in the morning.
She was an accurate as well as fast typist, nevertheless it was almost eight o’clock by the time she pulled the last of the finished sheets from her typewriter, placing it on top of the neat pile on her desk.
Luke strolled in from his own office at the silent typewriter, his jacket discarded, his shirt sleeves rolled back, his tie loosened and his shirt collar unbuttoned. He ran a weary hand about his nape, his dark hair slightly ruffled, the grey at his temples looking very distinguished.
He picked up the last of the typewritten sheets, having read the others as she completed them. ‘Finished?’
‘Yes.’ She flexed her aching shoulder muscles, not realising how stiff she had become while engrossed in her work.
‘Do you ache?’ Luke was watching her intently as she kneaded the nape of her neck tiredly, and his eyes narrowed.
‘A little,’ she admitted.
He put the typewritten sheet back on her desk and moved round the back of her chair to take over massaging her neck and shoulders. ‘Better?’ he queried huskily a few seconds later.
She was too busy fighting the urge to push his hands away to appreciate the expert massaging of her taut neck muscles. If she pushed him away she would ruin everything. Playing hard to get was one thing, showing complete aversion was something she would have to fight from now on: His hands touching her now showed her that wouldn’t be easy!
‘Yes, thank you.’ She moved away from him without being too obvious, standing up as if she needed the exercise. ‘Are we finished for the day?’
Luke nodded, his eyes narrowed. ‘I’ll drive you home.’
‘I have my own car,’ she shook her head.
‘Then have dinner with me?’ His voice had lowered throatily.
He expected a refusal, she could see by his wearily resigned expression that he did. She would have loved to have accepted, just to see if she could actually make him at a loss for words for once. But it would give her more satisfaction to keep him waiting just a little longer.
‘Not tonight,’ she refused lightly. ‘A hot bath and an early night are what I need right now.’
‘I like the sound of that,’
She stiffened at the seduction of his tone. ‘So do I,’ she deliberately ignored the suggestion in his voice. ‘If you’ll excuse me…’
‘Lori!’ He stopped her at the door.
Her eyes were cool as she looked at him, at complete variance with the fire of her hair. ‘Yes?’
Luke shook his head. ‘Never mind,’ he dismissed, turning away. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
She drove home as steadily as normal, stopping at all the red and amber lights, her speed a steady thirty, none of her fevered inner planning shown on the calm complacency of her face.
Luke Randell was a man who used women—he had probably used Marilou to get on in his job with her father’s oil company. And he wanted to use her, but for a different reason. He wanted to use her to satisfy a desire he had for her, the offer of marriage the carrot he was dangling in front of her nose. Only he was going to find it took more than the offer to get her into his bed, and that even when their marriage had become a reality he still wouldn’t have her in his bed.
Her spine tingled with anticipation, anticipation of the day she told Luke Randell who she was, that he was married to the daughter of a supposed criminal, a criminal his father had persecuted until he killed himself. Then she would have her revenge, a revenge more than suited to the crime.
* * *
Luke was out of his office the next morning, but Lori had plenty to keep her busy and she was dealing with her filing when he walked in shortly after twelve.
He looked tired, lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes, grooves beside his mouth. He also looked very formal and unapproachable, his black three-piece suit fitting superbly across his wide shoulders and tapered waist, the briefcase he carried of the finest leather.
‘Coffee,’ he snapped on his wa
y through to his office.
Lori’s eyebrows rose as he closed the door decisively behind him. He hadn’t spared a glance for the way her bottle-green dress clung to her body, clearly showing the pertness of her breasts, the narrowness of her waist, the slender curve of her thighs. All that had been revealed to him as she stood beside the filing cabinet, and he hadn’t even noticed! He couldn’t be allowed to get away with such a display of indifference, he had to be almost begging for her by the time she gave in to even her first date with him!
She was smiling brightly when she carried his coffee in to him a few minutes later, sensing his double-take as she placed the steaming cup in front of him.
‘You’re looking very cheerful,’ he scowled, and sat back, his jacket once again disgarded in an attempt to relax after what must have been a tense morning.
The smile remained fixed on her gently curving lips. ‘Is there any reason to be miserable?’
‘You’ve heard from the hospital?’ tension sharpened his voice.
‘Hospital?’ she repeated dazedly. ‘I—Claude…’ she realised dully. Dear God, what was the matter with her! Claude was scheduled to have his operation today and she had forgotten all about it. ‘I—No,’ her voice firmed. ‘No one has called. Only the messages I left on your desk.’ Several of them, she had noted, were from Marilou.
‘You may as well go to lunch now I’m back,’ Luke dismissed coldly. ‘I can deal with things here.’
Lori left the room with the knowledge that she had gone down in his estimation—and her own. She had been aware of Claude’s operation today, of course she had, but the realisation that revenge on the Randells for past wrongs was at last to be hers had pushed it to the back of her mind. Disgust had flashed briefly in Luke’s eyes, and she knew he was angry with her.
She was angry with herself! Whatever her private battle with Luke and his father she mustn’t let it colour her relationship with other people. Claude and Ruth had been good to her the last two years, Paul too.
She put a call straight through to the hospital once she got back to her desk, only to be told that, ‘Mr Hammond is still in surgery’. Ruth Hammond’s sister was still staying over with her from the wedding, and it was she who came on the line to assure Lori that they would call as soon as they had any news.
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