by Helen Brooks
'I know your type.'
'My 'type'?' he barked angrily. 'My—' He broke off as he fought visibly for control before taking a deep breath and laughing harshly, the sound grating in the quiet air. 'You really do take the biscuit! You barge your way in here, flinging insults around as though they were confetti and then accuse me—'
He broke off again and shook his head before turning from her so that his hard features were in profile. 'You've had a bad day and I would guess that it's going to get worse. Let's leave it at that, and despite the low opinion you obviously have of me, I would not dream of letting you find your own way home after the news I've just given you. The car will be outside now. Shall we?'
He turned and extended his hand to the door. She remained staring at him for one long moment before she moved forward. He was angry, very angry; that much she could see and she really couldn't take on any more now. It was simpler to accept this favour, however much it grated.
'Mr Reef?' His secretary's voice held a note of panic as he walked with Katie through the outer office, shrugging his big grey overcoat over his shoulders as he did so. 'You haven't forgotten the management meeting you called earlier? They're already assembling in the small boardroom—'
'Cancel it.' Her employer turned at the door to fix her with that cool gaze. 'Re-schedule for two this afternoon.'
'Is there a number where you can be reached?'
'No—' he was already shutting the door as he replied to the slightly dazed voice '—but I won't be long.'
'You don't have to do this.' As the silent lift sped swiftly downwards she ventured a glance at him through her eyelashes and then wished she hadn't He looked mad—more than mad, she thought weakly, and she hadn't fully realised just how big and powerful that tall, lean body was until the close confines of the lift had emphasised it so threateningly. And his aftershave was gorgeous…
What was she doing, thinking such things at a time like this? she asked herself faintly, and about a man like him, too—the sort that populated her father's world in droves and the kind she had always abhorred. She was in shock. She leant limply against the wall of the lift and took a long, silent breath. That was it. That had to be it. Either that or she'd lost it completely.
He had ignored her hesitant voice as though he hadn't heard it but now the cold grey eyes pierced her, the expression in them anything but friendly. 'You aren't going to faint on me, are you,' he asked grimly, 'on top of everything else?'
'No, I'm not.' The adrenalin that sent fierce colour into her cheeks and an angry sparkle into her eyes also brought her jerking off the lift wall to stand rigid and stiff as they reached the ground floor. 'I've never fainted in my life.'
'Quite a formidable lady.' The thread of laughter in the mocking voice was unforgivable in the circumstances, and sheer anger kept her head up and her back straight as they walked through the reception area.
Out of the corner of her eye she was aware of one or two interested but veiled glances in their direction, but just keeping up with his large strides was more than enough to contend with for the moment. She had absolutely no intention of following in his wake like a whipped puppy, she thought tightly as they reached the massive automatic doors together. He was the epitome of the arrogant, dominant male but the Tarzan-Jane concept of male and female had never appealed less than at this moment.
The icy March wind was carrying chips of sleet on its breath as they left the hothouse warmth of the big building and she pulled her knee-length anorak more tightly round her as a big dark blue Mercedes purred to a halt in front of them, complete with chauffeur in matching uniform.
'In you get.' He opened the door for her and then followed her into the immaculate interior in one movement. 'Your address?' She gave it in a small voice that tried to be cool and assured but was merely…small.
'Are you going to the hospital?' They had travelled some minutes in complete silence but she had never been more aware of another human being in her life.
'Later perhaps.' Why couldn't he have been old and bald? she asked herself as she turned her head to meet his gaze. A sympathetic uncle-figure who would have met her halfway? 'My father doesn't—' She corrected herself quickly. 'The doctor thought it better to keep him quiet for the moment.'
'Right.' The intuitive grey eyes had narrowed at the slip but he made no comment, his face bland, and he turned to look out of the window into the grey world outside as the big car moved swiftly through the mid-morning traffic.
The journey home was accomplished in about half the time the taxi had taken earlier and as they drew into the smart pebbled drive she found herself looking, as though for the first time, at the house she had been born in. Mellow, honey-coloured stone, leaded windows and a massive thatched roof stared impassively back; the huge oak tree that stood in the middle of the bowling-green-smooth lawn at the front of the house was as yet bare and naked against the winter sky.
'You have a beautiful home.' She jumped visibly as he spoke, and dragged her eyes away from the sight that had suddenly become so poignant with a tremendous effort.
'Not for much longer, it would seem,' she said flatly as she held out one small, slim hand for him to shake. 'Thank you for bringing me home, Mr Reef. No doubt my father's solicitors will be hearing from yours in due course.'
'No doubt.' He hesitated for the merest second and then, instead of giving the handshake she had expected, leant forward and brushed her lips with his own. As she leapt backwards like a scalded cat he climbed out of the car and offered his hand, his eyebrows raised in a distinctly sardonic tilt. 'Allow me.'
She gave him her hand reluctantly—a fact which the dark eyebrows took full note of—and slid out of the car with as much dignity as she could muster, considering her cheeks were glowing bright red and her mouth was burning from the brief contact with his.
'Goodbye,' she said again, a little breathlessly this time, as she stepped backwards a few paces from his large bulk and edged towards the house.
'Goodbye.' He didn't smile or move and after a split-second of indecision she turned and ran up the steps to the front door, her only desire being to get into the safety of the house.
Mrs Jenkins must have heard the car because even as she fumbled in her bag for her key the door opened and she almost fell into the hall in her eagerness to get inside. 'Katie?' Mrs Jenkins peered out into the drive before slowly shutting the door and hurrying to her side. 'Who was that man?' she asked worriedly. 'And why was he looking at the house like that?'
'Like what?' Katie asked weakly, the relief at being home overwhelming. She didn't know why but during the last few seconds in the car she had felt undeniably threatened—terrifyingly so.
'Like…' Mrs Jenkins' voice faded away as she shook her grey head bewilderedly. 'I don't rightly know, but it wasn't normal.'
'He's not a normal man, Mrs Jenkins,' Katie said unsteadily just as the phone began to ring. It was the first of many calls that day from her father's colleagues and business contacts who were already beginning to demand their pound of flesh.
CHAPTER TWO
'Katie?' Her sister's voice was more irritated than concerned when they finally managed to contact her in her hotel in Monte Carlo later that afternoon. 'What's all this about Dad being taken ill? He's never been ill in his life.'
'Well, he is now,' Katie said quietly, carefully keeping any trace of emotion out of her voice.
Jennifer was a duplicate of their father temperament-wise, scorning any show of sentiment or warmth, single-minded when it came to her career as a top reporter for one of the national tabloids, and utterly ruthless when it came to having her own way. At twenty-eight, she was five years older than Katie and well able to afford a luxurious flat in the heart of London, her own expensive sports car and a wardrobe of up-to-the-minute clothes that she changed like her nail varnish.
'It's his heart.'
'His heart?' Her sister's voice was scornful. 'I didn't know he had one!'
'Jennifer!' Katie's voic
e expressed her outrage.
Jennifer and her father had always held a mutual respect for each other's inexorable character while recognising that they were too alike to get on if they saw much of each other. The sort of comment that Jennifer had just made was exactly the type her father would have given if the situation had been reversed, and neither would have taken umbrage, but just now… Just now she couldn't take it, Katie thought painfully.
Despite his wishes, she had been to see her father after lunch, stopping for just a minute or two and driving away shocked beyond measure at the change which had been wrought in him in just a few hours. He had been in a semi-doze, never really waking, and to see his strong, lean and powerful body still and lifeless under the clinical hospital sheets had hurt more than she would have thought possible.
'I'm sorry, Katie.' Jennifer's voice was impatient, which made the apology null and void. 'How is he, then?'
'Hard to say.' She wasn't going to make this easy for her, Katie thought with an uncharacteristic flare of anger— besides which, it was true. 'He had a heart attack this morning but then, just before I got there this afternoon, he had another one. Lambeth said he'll be OK once they get the medication balanced but, as in most things medical, nothing is for certain.'
'Oh.' She could tell the news wasn't to her sister's liking. 'Well, I've nearly finished here so I suppose I could fly in in the next day or two,' Jennifer said reluctantly.
'There's something else.' Katie took a deep breath in preparation for the explosion. 'Dad's bankrupt.'
'What?' Now she really had her attention, Katie thought grimly. 'What do you mean 'bankrupt'? You're kidding me.'
'I'd hardly joke at a time like this,' Katie said quietly. 'He's mortgaged the house, the business and even the weekend cottage he bought for Mum originally, and there is an absolute mountain of debts. The cars, his boat, everything will have to go. I saw the solicitor this afternoon after I left the hospital.'
'Oh, brilliant, just brilliant.' Her sister's voice was scathing. 'What happened to the Midas touch he was always so proud of, then?'
'Well, I think he's paid for the loss of it, don't you?' Katie ground out through clenched teeth as she strove to keep her temper. 'It was the knowledge of how bad things were that brought on the heart attack.'
'Well, there's no room in my flat for anyone else,' Jennifer said quickly, after a moment's pause. 'I've got someone living in at the moment.'
'What's his name?' Katie asked tightly. Her sister was the original liberated woman, taking a new man into her life and her bed every few months and then kicking him out when she got bored, which was usually fairly quickly.
'Donald,' Jennifer drawled dispassionately. 'Hell, Katie, Dad'll hate the humiliation of bankruptcy, won't he? Not to mention losing the house. He really is a fool—'
'Don't you dare say that when you see him, Jen,' Katie hissed furiously. 'Not in words or one of those expressions you do so well. I'll murder you if you do.'
'Keep your hair on.' Her sister's voice was more amused than offended. 'Why you care so much about him I'll never know. You'll never learn, will you, Katie? You're just like Mum. Well, I've got to go, sweetie. I'll phone tomorrow and tell you what flight I'll be on. OK?'
'Goodbye, Jennifer.' Katie replaced the phone jerkily and strove for control. She should be hardened to it by now— she should, but her sister's total lack of emotion about anything but her precious job seemed to get harder to take as she grew older. And the casual reference to their mother… Katie could still remember the day she had died—the bleak, total despair and sense of loss that had never really dimmed through the years. She had learnt to live with the ache but had never really got over her mother's sudden death in a car accident when she was ten. They had been kindred spirits, totally different to look at but twin personalities and, in dark moments, Katie would still have given anything she possessed to gaze upon her face one more time and hug her tight.
It hadn't helped that her father and Jennifer had seemed almost unaffected either, although Katie had often thought, with her father at least, that it had been a way of coping with grief, to shut it in and refuse to acknowledge that it was there. But perhaps that was wishful thinking? She shook her head. Maybe Jennifer was right after all—she'd never learn, the eternal optimist always wanting to see the best in people. The thought brought the image of Carlton Reef into sudden focus before her eyes and she heard his scornful and derisive voice as though he were in the room with her.
'Right, enough is enough.' She rose determinedly from the chair. Tomorrow she would go into school, throw herself into the work there and face all the other mountains in her life when the time came. There was nothing she could do or say that would avert the catastrophe that had befallen them—it was far too late for that—but she was going to need to be strong for her father and herself.
How he would face the shame and humiliation she just didn't know; he was a fiercely proud man with unshakeable principles and this house in itself meant far more to him than mere collateral. Why on earth had he mortgaged it? She caught herself abruptly. No, recriminations were no good now; she needed to concentrate on the positive.
Over the next few days that resolution was to be sorely tested. News of the disaster travelled quickly in the business world and when she returned home from the school, often exhausted, the phone never seemed to stop ringing. Some of the callers were openly curious, digging for news, others faintly gloating that they themselves weren't in such dire straits; one or two were sympathetic and concerned and several verged on the abusive. The latter were mainly creditors who were doubting whether they would ever get paid.
Jennifer had called as promised, the day after her father's collapse, to say that the paper had contacted her shouting for a first-class reporter in France for a few days and would Katie mind terribly if she just did that little job before she came home? Katie had replied that her sister must decide her own priorities and Jennifer had finished the call quickly, saying that she had to run as the plane to France was going to be a tight one to catch.
Altogether, as Katie made her way to the hospital on Friday night for her regular evening visit, four days after her father's collapse, she felt tired in mind and body and sick to her soul. Her father hadn't improved as Dr Lambeth had hoped. Indeed, he seemed faintly worse each day, as though the will to live was ebbing away, and, forcing a bright smile on her face as she walked into the small sideward, she dreaded what she would find.
'Hello again.' The deep, cool voice hit her at the same moment that her numbed gaze took in the dark, lean body lazily seated at her father's side.
'You?' She barely glanced at her parent, all her energy concentrated on the hard, handsome face watching her so intently. What was he doing here? The answer was obvious—he'd come to badger a sick man. How dared he? How dared he?
'Not the most charming of greetings but it will have to do, I suppose.' And the creep was laughing at her. 'How are you, Katie?' he asked softly as he rose and offered her his chair.
'I think you ought to leave, Mr Reef.' She forced her voice to remain low but her eyes, daggers of steel aimed directly at his, spoke volumes. 'My father is a sick man and I won't have him upset.'
'Katie!'
She ignored her father's horrified exclamation and continued to look at the tanned face in front of her, which had lost its mocking amusement as though by magic. 'Did you hear me?' she asked tightly.
'I'm not here to upset your father, Katie,' Carlton said coldly, 'although you seem to be doing a pretty good job of that yourself at the moment Now would you please sit down and stop making a spectacle of yourself?' he finished coolly.
'Katie, for crying out loud…' Her father's agitated tones brought her eyes to his face for the first time and he nodded at the chair violently, his eyes lethal. 'Sit down, girl,' he barked angrily, more himself than he had been in days. 'Carlton is here purely as a friend, nothing more.'
'Really?' The word carried all the mistrust she felt for th
e man and her father shut his eyes for a moment in exasperation, shaking his head silently.
'Sit.' It was an order and she sat, but as Carlton moved another chair near the bed and stretched out his long legs to within an inch of hers it was all she could do to restrain the impulse to jerk away. She managed it—just. 'I'm sorry, Carlton.' David White waved his hand at her as he spoke. 'She isn't normally this way but my illness seems to have brought out the lioness-defending-her-cub mentality.'
'Not altogether a bad thing.' Carlton smiled back but, as the dark grey eyes moved to her, the smoky depths were as hard as iron. 'But the exterior doesn't quite prepare one for the fire and brimstone underneath.'
'Her mother was the same.' She glanced at him, utterly astounded as he spoke. She had never in all her life heard him compare her to his wife and it was still more amazing that his tone held a faint touch of embarrassed pride. 'She was sweetness personified, but if anyone threatened her family all hell was let loose. She was one special woman—'
He broke off, clearly horrified at having said so much, and there was a brief moment of charged silence before Carlton stepped into the breach. Katie was staring at her father open-mouthed, quite stunned. If a choir of heavenly angels had suddenly appeared in the room she couldn't have been more surprised.
Carlton glanced at Katie whose astounded countenance spoke for itself and then at David who was staring determinedly out of the window, his face ruddy with embarrassment, before shifting slightly in his seat and speaking in a cool, matter-of-fact voice that defused the awkward atmosphere.
'There are some papers in your father's study at home that might be important, Katie, and he'd like me to have a look through them in case there's a way out of this mess. Perhaps we could leave together and I could pick them up on the way home?'