by Penny Jordan
‘No. And you?’ It was one of her rules never to date, no matter how casually, attached males.
‘I was married, but that’s over now I’m divorced. Until my mother died I was firmly convinced that my future lay in the States. I’ve built up a good practice there, but since I’ve been back here I’m not so sure…. There’s something about the place where your roots lie.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Brooke agreed.
The subject was dropped as they stopped at their destination, but after the flurry of greetings was over and they were all sitting round Mary’s attractively decorated dinner table, it was resurrected again.
‘I’m trying to persuade Jeff here to come into partnership with me,’ Sam told her. ‘Mary’s keen for me to retire.’
‘And I must say I’m very tempted,’ Jeff told him. ‘Even more so after tonight,’ he added with a grin and an appreciative look at Brooke.
Brooke knew and liked Sam’s daughter and her husband, and the evening was an exceptionally convivial one. So much so that she was almost disappointed when Jeff suggested it was time for them to go.
‘It’s gone twelve,’ he told her with a charmingly apologetic smile, ‘and I’m afraid I have to be in London quite early tomorrow. I promised to meet a friend who’s flying in from Dallas on the early morning flight.’
They drove back to the Lodge in a companionable silence and when Jeff drew up outside it and stopped Brooke turned to him and said with a smile, ‘I won’t invite you in for coffee in view of your early start in the morning, but it’s been a most enjoyable evening….’
‘Indeed it has, and this adds the perfect finishing touch,’ he murmured, bending his head to kiss her.
His mouth was mobile and experienced and although the sensation of it moving against her own was not distasteful, there was none of the explosive response she had experienced with Adam Henderson. Jeff made no attempt to stop her when she pulled away from him, simply bending his head to kiss her lightly once more.
As he did so, car headlights flashed into the interior of his parked car, the long low shape of a black Ferrari snarling past them and on up the drive.
‘Who was that?’ Jeff asked, obviously startled by the interruption.
‘My new boss,’ Brooke told him flippantly, quickly explaining the situation to him, as she reached for the car door and opened it. ‘It’s been a lovely evening, Jeff.’
‘The first of many I hope,’ he said softly, coming round to help her out of the car before reversing and driving away.
On Sunday morning Brooke was up early, reading her newspapers over a mug of coffee when she heard Balsebar’s warning bark. Frowning slightly she put down the paper and glanced through the window. She wasn’t expecting anyone…. Her heart started to thump in unexpected recognition as she saw Adam Henderson walking towards her front door. For one cowardly moment she toyed with the idea of pretending she wasn’t in, only to dismiss the thought as childishly irrational.
As she opened the door to him she wondered where he’d come from. Somehow she had thought he must by now have returned to London along with the majority of the other guests at the cocktail party. A little to her surprise, Balsebar, who had followed her to the door, greeted him quite warmly, fanning his whip thin tail against the floor.
‘Hello boy.’ Lean fingers stroked the black coat and Brooke was appalled by the sensations the sight of them stirred through her blood, her brusquely defensive, ‘What do you want?’ causing black eyebrows to climb steeply, a slight smile curving the corners of his mobile mouth.
‘Well that’s a fine way to treat your new neighbour I must say.’ Adam taunted. ‘The least I expected was an offer of a mug of that delicious-smelling coffee and a cup of sugar.’
Neighbour? Brooke stared at him in consternation. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Come on Brooke,’ the soft voice taunted, ‘according to that very impressive recommendation your previous employers gave us you’re an exceptionally intelligent and keen-witted girl. What do you think it means?’
He was looking at her in a way she didn’t much like, amusement fanning tiny lines round his eyes, his expression almost smug.
‘I’m not quite sure.’ She was stalling for time. ‘The nearest house to mine is the Dower House.’
‘Full marks so far….’
‘But that’s occupied by the chairman of Hart Enterprises,’ she continued slowly. What was it about this man that warned her not to trust him a single inch.
‘Your new boss,’ Adam agreed, showing his teeth in an openly wolfish smile.
‘You’re staying with him?’ Brooke hazarded, sensing that he was about to spring a carefully baited trap, watching him warily.
‘Him?’
‘Mr Hart.’
‘Ah … that would be Mr Adam Henderson Hart?’
He didn’t need to say any more. Brooke’s face paled and for a second she was tempted to slam the door in his face. Anticipating her his foot was already wedged inside it, the solid muscularity of his shoulder forcing it open.
‘You tricked me,’ she accused angrily. ‘You knew I would never agree to work for you. And I won’t….’
‘Why not?’ He was smiling at her with lazy appreciation, watching the flurried rise and fall of her breasts beneath the thin wool of her jumper. Just having him standing there made her nerves tense up like too finely tuned violin strings. Something about him made her feel edgy and jumpy as a nervous cat.
‘I can’t work with you after….’
‘After what happened the other night? Why not? Frightened that next time you might not be able to fend me off so easily, nor want to?’ His voice dropped over the last few words and Brooke was unable to prevent the rich tide of colour flooding over her skin.
‘No … because I can’t work at optimum capacity if I’m constantly having to field sexist remarks like that,’ she told him heatedly. ‘I can’t understand why you want me working for you anyway….’
‘Can’t you?’ There was definite amusement in the grey eyes as they lifted to search her angry, tense face. ‘And you’re positive that you prefer flight to fight? What is it you’re so frightened of Brooke?’
‘I’m not frightened,’ she denied hastily, sensing that not to do so would be to give him an irrefutable advantage.
‘No? Then prove it,’ he mocked softly. ‘Come and work for me and prove to me that you’re as indifferent to me as I know you’re longing to tell me you are.’
He had read her mind with devastating accuracy. She was caught in a trap, Brooke recognised. If she refused to work for him now she sensed that it would not end there. He wanted her and he was prepared to pursue her mercilessly. Her only means of defence was to face him; to stand up to him and prove to him that her defences were impenetrable.
‘Very well.’ Her chin jutted obstinately. ‘But on the strict understanding that our relationship is purely a business one.’
‘If that’s the way you want it. How about sealing the bargain with a cup of coffee?’ he suggested. ‘I’m dying for a cup.’
Somehow or other Brooke found herself on her way back to her kitchen with Adam and Balsebar on her heels. When she had poured him his coffee and they were both sitting down he looked and said softly, ‘Well, did you enjoy it when he kissed you?’
She was so startled that she nearly spilled her drink, and then she remembered the black Ferrari. She had thought at the time that it was an unusual choice of car for the chairman of Hart Enterprises, but then she had not known the identity of the chairman. He had deliberately deceived her. She looked up at him and he said impassively, ‘Answer my question first, and then I’ll answer yours.’
Chin jutting Brooke said truculently, ‘Yes, I did—very much….’
‘But not enough to let him take you to bed,’ Adam came back softly. ‘Not as much as you enjoyed my kisses.’
Hot colour seeped up under her skin caused not this time by embarrassment but by anger. ‘That’s not true,’ she began heatedly, b
ut the words were crushed against her mouth as Adam stood up with one easy powerful movement and hauled her into his arms, his mouth punishing hers for its lies, his tongue probing and stroking until she was enmeshed in a reason-destroying web of molten pleasure.
‘We made a bargain.’ Brooke choked fiercely when he eventually released her.
‘But you’re not officially working for me yet,’ Adam reminded her. ‘Now tell me again that you don’t like my kisses.’
The words burned in her throat but Brooke knew she would not utter them. Her lips felt soft and vulnerable, acutely sensitive to the rough pressure of Adam’s against them; in fact her whole body was acutely aware of him in a way she had never imagined being aware of any man. She could smell the faint odour of his cologne, tangy and masculine and beneath it the scent of fresh clean skin. She could remember quite vividly the rough rasp of his jaw against her face; the power of his fingers biting into her arms.
‘Why did you lie to me about your name?’ she managed thickly, her tongue unruly as she tried to get it round the accusing words.
‘I didn’t lie, I simply avoided giving you all of it. You said yourself you were up for sale,’ he reminded her lazily. ‘My name has a way of upping the price—that’s the only reason; there was no ulterior motive.’
‘Why do you want me to work for you?’
He laughed, a soft sound deep in his throat. ‘Why don’t you want to?’ he mocked. ‘It’s an excellent job; interesting, well paid, with a variety of fringe benefits.’ Something in the way he said the last few words made Brooke look closely at him, but there was nothing to be read from his impassive features. ‘Be there tomorrow morning Brooke,’ he warned her as he stood away from her and reached for the door. ‘Be there!’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘AND this is going to be my study.’ Adam stepped to one side to allow Brooke to precede him into what had been the Dower House Library. The shelves she remembered as muddled and filled with mildewed books had been cleared and cleaned; a large desk complete with sophisticated technical computer equipment dominated the room.
‘Know anything about these?’ Adam glanced from Brooke to the computer terminal.
‘A little,’ she responded cautiously. ‘I did a short course of computer technology when I was with Barrards, but this looks far more sophisticated than the terminal I used.’
‘If you know the basics you’ll soon pick it up,’ Adam told her casually. ‘There’ll be a full-sized computer room at Abbot’s Meade eventually, but right now I’m having to make do with this. It’s linked to the main computer at our Head Office in London, and it means that I can keep in touch with what’s going on but remain here to check on progress with the conversion of the house.’
‘If you already have a head office in London I can’t see why you bought Abbot’s Meade?’ Brooke had dressed with special care for this her first morning as Adam’s PA. When she arrived half an hour ago she had addressed him as ‘Mr Hart’ but he had soon disabused her of the idea that he intended to allow her to put such a formal gulf between them. ‘Call me “Adam”,’ he told her curtly, ‘My last PA did.’
‘Partially with the future in mind and partially as a showpiece. Hart’s are becoming more and more involved with restoration work on old buildings—we have built up good contacts with various craftsmen and we’re beginning to get a name for this type of work. Abbot’s Meade, once restored, as I intend it to be restored will provide a show place for those crafts—it will give some of our more cautious clients a physical example of what can be done.’
‘Especially when they see the computer room,’ Brooke said dryly. ‘Where’s that going to go? In the Georgian Library?’
She was surprised to see a dark edge of colour creeping angrily up under Adam’s tan. ‘I’m not quite the philistine you seem to believe,’ he told her tersely. ‘All right I don’t have Bill’s public school education; and my family certainly wasn’t out of the “top drawer” but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the workmanship and value of what Abbot’s Meade offers, and unlike your ancestors I at least have the wealth to preserve it.’
His angry words took Brooke aback. She had merely been teasing him a little and had not expected such a bitterly violent reaction, ‘As it happens the computer room will be housed in one of the cellars—the main rooms of the house will be restored to their original state—or as close to it as possible, and will be used when we entertain overseas guests and for small conferences.’ He frowned and walked over to his desk. ‘There’s a book here I found on these shelves when they were being cleared out. It’s some sort of diary and mentions the decor in the Dower House as it must have been when it was built.’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Brooke agreed following him over to the desk and glancing at the book he indicated. ‘The Dower House was designed and decorated by Adam—and apparently was something of rarity when it was first built.’
‘I was wondering if there was anything anywhere that might tell us exactly how the main rooms at the Abbey were decorated. Most of them were also re-vamped by Adam at the same time weren’t they?’
‘Yes that’s right.’ Hiding her surprise at his knowledge Brooke thought carefully. ‘When I was going through my uncle’s things we found an old deed box full of plans and things relating to Abbot’s Meade—although the original house was built in the fifteenth century it’s been extended and altered many times since then. There could be something there.’
‘Where are these plans now?’
‘In the loft of the Lodge.’
‘Well if you’ve no objection I’d like to see them.’
‘None at all,’ Brooke assured him. Despite the informality of being on first-name terms with him, Adam, the chairman of Henderson Hart, was a very different proposition from Adam who had tried to make love to her after the cocktail party. What had she expected, she derided herself gently; that he would spend all his time chasing her round his desk? Nothing could have been further from reality. In fact she was beginning to wonder if she had dreamt the whole incident. Adam was showing her a temporary wall of filing cabinets which he explained she could organise to suit herself.
‘Most of what goes into them will go into the computer as well, but until we get everything together under one roof, it will be as well to have some tangible record, especially where contracts are concerned. I shall be spending some of my time in London—perhaps sometimes for a couple of days at a time. When I’m gone, I expect you to take total charge of the office. Later on when he arrives I’ll introduce you to Tod Dearham—he’s the foreman who’s going to be in charge of the men working down here. The next time I go to London you can come with me and I’ll introduce you to the executive staff at Head Office. Any questions you want to ask me?’
There were only a couple of small points, which Adam dealt with in the same speedy fashion as he had done everything else, glancing at his watch when he had finished to say crisply, ‘Coffee time I think—making coffee wouldn’t normally be part of your duties, but I have several ‘phone calls to make and if you don’t consider the chore beneath you, the kitchen’s….’
‘I know where it is,’ Brooke reminded him. It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she didn’t want a drink, but in the light of his own remarks any refusal on her part to make him one would look childish. And he had been right about one thing. The job would be a challenge, something she could get her teeth into and enjoy.
He was still on the ‘phone when she walked back into the library with a tray of coffee so she left it on his desk and walked over to the terminal, running her eyes over it and wondering how difficult she would find it to operate. Next to it was a word processor, and presumably this desk would be hers. The machine was one she was familiar with and with which she didn’t anticipate any problems, and she was just studying it, her head bent, when she felt a prickle of awareness sliding down her spine. As she straightened up she realised that Adam had finished his call and that he was watching her.
‘Very business-like,’ he murmured, walking toward her and flicking a finger lightly across her cheek, indicating the coiled braids of her hair, ‘but personally I prefer it loose.’
There were half-a-dozen cutting remarks she could have, and ought to have made—after all, hadn’t this been just the sort of remark she had been tensed for from the moment she knocked on the Dower House door this morning, but strangely enough none of them came to mind. She could barely even find the impetus to move away from him. Her skin burned fierily where he had touched it and hemmed in between him and the computer equipment she was intensely aware of his body heat; of the powerfully male construction of his body beneath the elegantly tailored dark grey suit. He was looking at her mouth, and in some strange way it was almost as though he were kissing her as he had done before. A wave of heat washed dizzily over her and she almost swayed weakly towards him, but just caught herself back in time.
‘Need any help with this?’ His eyes left her face to study the terminal, his voice calm and concise as he explained how it worked. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes she could never have believed that only seconds ago he had been looking at her as though he had stripped the clothes from her body and was already touching her skin; or had her eyes deceived her? No, she thought fiercely, wondering what sort of game he was playing with her. Not a very serious one to judge from the comments he had made to her that first night at the Lodge. Inexperienced virgins were hardly his cup of tea, and that being the case he could only be playing with her. No doubt it amused him to see the tell-tale anxiety flare to life in her eyes every time he came too close to her. Brooke wasn’t a fool, despite her lack of sexual experience.
Her full mouth compressed firmly. He was playing with her with the same careless insolence of a well-fed cat towards a terrified mouse—not really wanting her but too cruel to abandon his sport. Well this mouse wasn’t going to play. Straightening up she said pleasantly, ‘Oh I think everything’s clear to me now Adam.’ The tone of her voice made him look at her and summoning all her self-confidence Brooke allowed her eyes to drift over his body in a parody of the insolent appraisal he had just given hers.