by Helen Brooks
She lifted her chin a fraction higher and stared straight into the piercing grey eyes that were watching her so intently. 'I'm Katie White, Mr Reef, and I want a word with you.' She was glad her voice didn't betray her—inside she was a mass of quivering jelly. 'I have to say you are, without exception, the rudest, most objectionable man I have ever had the misfortune to come into contact with. My father is in Intensive Care at the moment with a heart attack—not that I expect you to be interested in that—and other than wheel the bed down here I had no alternative but to come here myself, as you wouldn't accept my call.'
'How did you get past Reception and my secretary?' he asked grimly, without the flicker of an eyelash.
There was something in the complete lack of response to her tirade that was more daunting than any show of rage but she forced herself not to wilt as she continued to face him. 'Reception was busy; a party of Japanese businessmen had just arrived,' she answered shortly. 'So I just slipped into the lift once I'd found your name and floor on the notice-board. And your secretary—' she glanced round the large room with her eyebrows raised '—is your problem, not mine.'
'I see.' He continued to survey her from the doorway and she was forced to acknowledge, albeit silently, that he really was the most formidable man she had seen for a long, long time. He was tall, very tall, with a severe haircut that held his black hair close to his head and accentuated the hard, aggressive male features even more. He could have been any age from thirty to forty—the big lean body was certainly giving nothing away—but the overall air of control and authority suggested that he had learnt plenty in the school of life.
'Well, Miss White, now you're here I suggest you come and sit down so we can discuss this thing rationally,' he said smoothly, after several seconds had passed in complete silence. 'You're obviously upset and I would prefer the dirty linen to be kept under wraps, as it were.'
'I couldn't care less about your dirty linen,' she shot back furiously, incensed beyond measure as he shook his dark head lazily, a mocking smile curving the full, sensual lips for a brief moment.
'I was referring to yours, not mine,' he said laconically. 'Or, to be more precise, your father's.'
'Now look here—'
'No, you look here, Miss White.' Suddenly the relaxed facade was gone and the man standing in front of her was frightening. 'You force your way into my office unannounced, breathing fire and damnation, when, by rights, it should be me squealing like a stuck pig.' He eyed her furiously. 'I'm sorry to hear that your father has had a heart attack, if in fact that is the case,' he added cynically, 'but that is absolutely nothing to do with me. The loss of a good deal of money and, more importantly, Miss White, my business credibility is, however, everything to do with him.'
'I don't know what you mean.' She had taken a step backwards without realising it and now, as he stared into the big hazel eyes watching him so fearfully, Carlton Reef forced himself to draw on his considerable store of self-control before he spoke again.
'Then let me explain it to you. Shall we?' He indicated his office with a wave of his hand, standing back from the doorway and allowing her to precede him into the room.
'How much do you know of your father's business affairs, Miss White?' he asked her quietly, once she was seated in the chair facing the massive polished desk behind which he sat.
'Nothing,' she answered honestly. 'My father—' She stopped abruptly. 'He isn't the sort of man to talk about business at home,' she finished flatly. Or, at least, not to her, she amended silently. Never to her.
'And this heart attack?' He eyed her expressionlessly, 'It's genuine?'
'Of course it's genuine,' she answered in horror. 'What on earth do you think—?' She shook her head blindly as words failed her. 'No one would make something like that up,' she finished hotly.
'You'd be surprised,' he said sardonically. 'When the chips are down most people would do just about anything.'
'Well, I wouldn't.' She glared at him fiercely. 'You can ring the hospital if you like and speak to Dr Lambeth, my father's friend. I presume you would trust a doctor at least?' she finished scathingly.
'I trust very few people, Miss White.' He shifted slightly in the big leather chair, leaning back and surveying her through narrowed grey eyes.
'Like my father.' The words were condemning and he recognised them as such.
'You don't approve?' he said mildly. 'You're an optimist, Miss White—a very dangerous thing to be in the business world.'
'Well, as I'm not in the business world I wouldn't lose too much sleep over it,' she replied carefully. 'And I wouldn't describe myself as an optimist anyway; I just think most people verge on kindness given a chance.'
He shut his eyes for a split-second as he shook his dark head slowly, the gesture more eloquent than any words, and then opened them to stare directly into the greeny-brown of hers. 'What world are you in?' he asked quietly, his eyes wandering over the pale creamy skin of her face and stopping for an infinitesimal moment on her wide, generous mouth. 'You do work for a living?'
'Yes.' She straightened a little in the chair as she rebelled against the questioning. 'But I don't see how that affects why I'm here today, Mr Reef. You said on the phone that my father had lost you some money…?'
'Lost me some money?' he repeated sarcastically. 'Well, that's one way of putting it, I guess. A little oversimplified but nevertheless… Have you read the morning papers?' he asked abruptly.
'The morning—?' She hesitated at the change of direction. 'No—no, I haven't. My father was reading them when he—' She stopped again. 'When he collapsed,' she finished flatly.
'They nearly had the same effect on me,' he said drily, and then shook his head at her outraged expression. 'And I wasn't belittling your father's condition, Miss White. Here—' He thrust a newspaper at her abruptly. 'Read that.'
She glanced at where he was pointing but the black letters were dancing all over the page as she tried to read them and she looked up after a moment, her eyes enormous in her white face. 'I'm sorry, I can't take anything in.'
'It's the total collapse of a certain economy that your father assured me was one hundred per cent solid,' he said coolly. 'I have invested a vast amount of money at his persuasion and within the last few months, too. I've been made to look ridiculous, Miss White, and I can't say it appeals.'
'But—' she stared at him desperately '—he wouldn't have done it on purpose, would he? No one's perfect.'
' 'No one's'—?' He held her eyes for several seconds before shaking his head again. 'This whole morning is fast beginning to resemble Alice Through the Looking Glass.'
A movement in the outer office caught his eye and he pressed the buzzer on his desk as he glanced towards the door. A second or two later, one beautifully coiffured head appeared round the door. 'I'm sorry, Mr Reef, I had to…'
The well-bred voice died as the woman glanced in Katie's direction.
'Two coffees, please, Jacqueline, and hold all calls,' Carlton Reef said quietly.
'Oh, but I can't—' Katie glanced at him as he raised enquiring eyebrows. 'I've got a taxi waiting for me in the street. I can't—'
'Pay it off, Jacqueline.' He settled further into his seat as he raised one hand thoughtfully under his chin. 'And phone… What hospital is your father in?' he asked Katie abruptly. She told him quietly as her cheeks burnt scarlet He thought she was lying; how could he think that? 'Tell them I want to speak to a Dr Lambeth,' he instructed his secretary quietly, 'and do it discreetly, there's a good girl.'
It was the first time that Katie had been able to examine him without having his piercing grey eyes trained on her and as she looked at him, really looked at him for the first time, she had to admit in a tiny, detached part of her brain that he really was devastatingly good-looking in a hard, macho sort of way.
His skin was dark, with the sort of even tan that suggested a recent holiday somewhere very hot and very expensive, and the dark grey eyes were fringed with short jet-black las
hes under heavy dark brows. Big, broad shoulders suggested an impressive body under the beautifully cut suit and she had already seen that he was tall—well over six feet And he was as hard as iron. She stiffened as the razor-sharp eyes switched back to her. He was the sort of man her father would respect and admire and whom she loathed.
'Now—' he didn't smile as the secretary shut the door without a sound and they were left alone '—why exactly did you feel it necessary to come here?'
'You phoned.' She stared at him with a mixture of bewilderment and anger. 'You made it clear that my father would be in some sort of trouble if he didn't—'
'He's in deep trouble already, Miss White, and I'm afraid there is nothing you can do about it.' There wasn't a trace of compassion in the deep voice and she knew, as she stared into the implacable, cold features, actual hate for another human being for the first time in her life. 'I am not sure of my facts yet, so I do not intend to say much more, but from the little I do know about this unfortunate episode it would seem to suggest that your father did not do the homework he was paid to do. Supposition is not an option in the market-place and for this to happen without any prior warning…' He shrugged eloquently. 'Something smells.'
'Are you saying that my father was dishonest?' she asked hotly. 'Because if you are—'
The buzzer on his desk interrupted further conversation and, as he took the call his secretary had put through, his face was blank and composed. It was obviously from Dr Lambeth and by the time he replaced the receiver, some minutes later, the dark face was thoughtful, although she had been unable to comprehend anything from his side of the conversation. As he finished the call his secretary knocked quietly and entered with the coffee, her face smooth and expressionless.
'Thank you, Jacqueline.' He glanced up once, busying himself with the tray. 'Can you arrange for the car to be brought to the main entrance in ten minutes, please?'
'Yes, Mr Reef.'
Something had been said during that phone call, something disturbing and relevant to her, Katie thought suddenly as she stared into the cool poker face opposite. 'Is my father all right?' she asked quietly. 'He isn't worse?'
'No.' He handed her a cup of coffee and gestured towards the milk and sugar. 'Help yourself.'
'What did Dr Lambeth say?' she persisted, the trickle of unease gathering steam by the second. 'There's something you're not telling me, I know it.'
He stared at her for a good fifteen seconds before replying and she knew she was right. There was something— she could read it in the opaque blankness of his eyes. 'This is really nothing to do with me,' he said quietly. 'I feel it would be better if your father's friend explained in the circumstances, Miss White.'
'What circumstances?' She could feel her voice rising but there was nothing she could do about it as sheer undiluted panic gripped her insides. 'He's worse? He's not…' She stared at him with huge eyes.
'No, nothing like that.' He waved his hand at her almost irritably. 'I'm satisfied that whatever your father did he did out of ignorance, incidentally. Not that that makes the results any different but—' He stopped abruptly. 'Why the hell did you have to come here today anyway?' he growled savagely.
'Why?' She glared at him, more angry than she could remember being in her whole life. 'Because you threatened me, that's why. You said—'
'I know what I said.' He stood up in one sharp movement and walked over to the huge plate-glass window where he stood with his back to her, looking down on the ant-like creatures below in the busy London street. 'I just didn't expect you to come here hotfoot like some guardian angel, that's all.'
'Well, all that could have been averted if you'd taken my call,' she said stiffly as her face burned still more. He was a monster, she thought, an absolute monster.
'Possibly.' He still didn't turn round. 'Well, perhaps the news would be better coming from a stranger, after all. I don't know. At least you would have some time to prepare yourself.'
'Mr Reef, you're frightening me,' she said in a very small voice and, at that, he did turn, swinging round to see her sitting on the edge of her chair, hands clasped together and face as white as a sheet. 'Whatever it is—could you just tell me?' she asked slowly.
'Your father is bankrupt.' He had taken a deep breath before he spoke but the smoky grey eyes didn't leave her face. 'He's lost the business, the house, the cars, every penny he owns in this deal. He's just unburdened himself to Dr Lambeth and asked him to let all interested parties know.'
All interested parties? Somehow that hurt more than anything else could have done. She lived at home, spoke to him every day, shared little moments of his life and he hadn't even hinted that things were bad. What had she ever done that her own father disliked her so much, trusted her so little? What sort of person did he think she was?
'Miss White, did you hear me?' He moved round the desk to stand in front of her, before kneeling and bringing his face into line with hers. 'He had suspected the worst for days but seeing it in black and white in the newspaper brought the heart attack on, so I understand. The house is mortgaged up to the hilt, there are debts mounting sky-high—'
'I understand.' She stopped him with a tiny wave of her hand as she spoke through stiff lips. 'And he bore all this alone; he didn't say a word to anyone.'
'He's a businessman, Katie.' She wasn't aware that he had spoken her name as her mind struggled to comprehend what he had told her. Their beautiful home that had been in her father's family for generations… The loss of that alone would kill him, she knew it. 'He has to make decisions that are sometimes difficult—'
'He's my father.' She raised her head to stare at him, her eyes drowning in the whiteness of her face. 'He should have been able to talk about it with me. What else are families for if not to share the hard times? If he could have told me, trusted me, he might not be in hospital now connected to a mass of wires and tubes—'
She wasn't aware that her voice had risen into a shrill shriek, but when the outer door burst open and the secretary rushed in she was conscious of a stinging slap across her face as Carlton Reef pulled her back from hysteria before lifting her body into his arms and signalling for the woman to leave with a sharp movement of his head.
'It's all right; shush now, shush…' He was sitting in the chair she had teen occupying with her cradled on his lap as she moaned her anguish out loud, the hopelessness of endless years of trying to win her father's love and approval culminating in the devastating knowledge that he could have died and she wouldn't have known why. He hadn't wanted her, hadn't reached out, hadn't needed even a word of comfort from the daughter he seemed to despise so much.
'Why didn't he tell me?' she asked again, her head buried in the folds of his jacket. 'He should have told me.'
'He didn't want to worry you,' Carlton said comfortingly, somewhere over her head. 'That's natural in a father.'
'No.' She struggled away from him as she desperately tried to compose herself, suddenly horrified at the position she had put herself in. There was nothing natural about her father but she couldn't tell this man that—he wouldn't understand She had never known her father share the smallest tiling with her, never felt a fatherly hug, never had anyone to dry her tears as all her friends had. 'You wouldn't understand,' she said weakly. 'I'm sorry; I shouldn't have come. I didn't know—'
'Look, sit down and have your coffee.' He had risen as she had moved away and now took her aim gently, pushing her back down in the seat as he passed a cup to hear. 'Drink that and then I'll run you home. It's been a tremendous shock for you.'
'I don't want it.' She stood up again and faced him, her face drawn and pale. 'And I'll make my own way home, Mr Reef.' She felt as if she could die of embarrassment at the ridiculous picture she made. Here she was, in the very centre of the hive that made up London's busy business world, behaving like some brainless schoolgirl. What on earth was he thinking and why, oh, why, had she come? She must have been mad, quite mad, but she hadn't been thinking straight In fact, she hadn'
t been thinking at all!
She bit her lower lip hard. She'd made a bad situation wellnigh impossible. 'I'm sorry about all this,' she said stiffly to the hard, handsome face watching her so intently. 'I thought that if I came to see you and explained that my father was ill you would be able to wait a few days, that things could be sorted…' Her voice trailed away at the expression on his face. If cynical mockery could go hand in hand with reluctant sympathy then that was what she was seeing.
'And instead you found the very roof over your head was threatened,' he intervened softly. 'I do understand your predicament, Miss White. I'm not quite such an ogre as you seem to think.'
'No?' She faced him square-on now, a combination of shock and crucifyingly painful hurt making her speak her mind in a way she would never have done normally. 'Well, as you've pointed out, our worlds are very different, Mr Reef, and your standards and those of my father are not mine. The lust for power and wealth that masquerades as ambition is not for me.'
'I see.' His face had closed against her as she had spoken and now his mouth was grim. 'But, unless I am very much mistaken, you have enjoyed the benefits of this world that you seem to despise so much for a good many years without your conscience being too troubled?' His eyebrows rose mockingly. 'Or perhaps you live in a little wooden hut at the end of your father's property and indulge in hair-shirts and a monastic form of life?'
'Of course I don't.' Amazingly the confrontation was making her feel better, quelling the panic and fear that had gripped her since he had told her of their changed circumstances as fierce anger at his mockery left no room for any other emotion. 'And I am grateful to my father for all he's done for me—my education, our home, all the 'benefits' you could no doubt list as well as I could. But—' she raised her chin and the large, clear hazel eyes that stared into his were steady '—I can manage without them without it being the end of the world. I don't need them in the same way that you do, Mr Reef.'
'Don't you indeed?' His face was dark with an emotion she'd rather not dwell on now, and he crossed his arms as he leant back against the window, almost as though he needed to keep them anchored to his body rather than round her neck, she reflected silently. 'And how do you know what I need, Miss White? To my knowledge we have never met before today.'