A Mistletoe Proposal (4 page)

‘Oh, please, Mr Havering, credit the court with a little common sense. If you'd managed to set them on the road together, that is where it would have led eventually. At the very least, the question would have come up. You don't deny that, do you?'

‘No, but—' He stopped, seeing the pit that had opened at his feet.

‘But perhaps you were counting on this vulgar, unprincipled young woman to deal with him as effectively as you saw her deal with another man. A good right hook, a well-aimed knee—who needs legal training?'

She stopped, slightly breathless as though she'd been fighting. She couldn't have explained the rising tide of anger that had made her turn on him so fiercely. He wasn't the first client whose attitude had annoyed her, but with the others she'd
always managed to control herself. Not this time. There was something in him that sent her temper into a spin.

‘I think we've said all we have to say,' she informed him, beginning to gather her things. ‘I'm sorry I won't be able to meet your requirements, but I'm a lawyer, not an escort girl.'

‘Please—'

‘Naturally, I shan't be charging you for this consultation. Kindly let me pass.'

He had her trapped against the wall and could have barred her exit. Instead, he rose and stood aside. His face was unreadable but for the bleakness in his eyes. Despite her fury, she had a guilty feeling of having kicked someone who was down, but she suppressed it and stormed out.

Just around the corner was a small square with fountains, pigeons and wooden seats. She sat down, breathing out heavily and wondering at herself.

Fool!
she told herself.
You should just have laughed at him, taken the job, knocked some sense into the lad, then screwed every penny out of Havering. What came over you?

That was the question she couldn't answer, and it troubled her.

Taking out her cellphone, she called David.

‘Hi, I've been hoping to hear from you,' he said cheerfully. ‘Wait until you've heard my news. The phone's been ringing off the hook with people wanting you and nobody but you. You made a big impression in court today, producing those figures like a magician taking a rabbit from the hat. Working for Roscoe Havering will do you even more good. Everyone knows he employs only the best.'

‘Tell me some more about him,' Pippa said cautiously.

‘Hasn't he told you about himself?'

‘Only that he's a stockbroker. I—want to get him in perspective.'

‘He doesn't boast about what a major player he is, that's true. But in the financial world Roscoe Havering is a name that pulls people up short. They jump to do what he wants—well, I expect you've found that out already. What he doesn't readily talk about is how he built that business up from collapse. It was his father's firm, and when William Havering committed suicide it smashed Roscoe.'

‘Suicide?'

‘He didn't tell you that?'

‘No, he just said his father had died and his mother never really recovered.'

‘There was a car crash. Officially, it was an accident, but in fact William killed himself because his life's work was going bust. Roscoe worked for his father. He'd seen the financial mess they were in and tried to help, but there was little he could do. Secretly, I think he blames himself. He thinks if he'd done more he might have prevented the disaster—used his influence to pull William back from the brink. It's nonsense, of course. He was only twenty-four, little more than a beginner. There was nothing he could have done.

‘After William's death he managed to save the business and build it into a massive success, but it changed him, not really for the better. His ruthless side took over, but I suppose it had to. You won't find him easy. What he wants, he wants, and he doesn't take no for an answer.'

‘But do you realise what it is that he wants?' Pippa demanded. ‘Am I supposed to seduce this boy, because you know what you can do with that idea.'

‘No, of course not,' David said hurriedly, ‘but let's be honest, you've had every man here yearning for you. You'll know how to get this lad's attention.'

‘I'm not sure—'

‘You haven't turned him down?' David sounded alarmed.

‘I'm thinking about it,' Pippa said cautiously.

What are you talking about?
raged her inner voice.
Just tell him you've already said no.

‘Pippa, please do this, for the firm's sake. Roscoe brings us a lot of work and, between you and me, he owns our office building. He's not a man I want to offend.'

David was a good boss and a kind man. He'd taught her well, while keeping his yearning admiration for her beauty behind respectable barriers.

‘I'll get back to you,' she said.

She was thoughtful as she walked back to Cavelli's, trying to reconcile the contradictions that danced in her mind. She'd perceived Roscoe Havering as an older man, certainly in his forties, but if David's facts were correct he was only thirty-nine.

It was his demeanour that had misled her, she realised. Physically, he was still youngish, with dark brown hair that showed no hint of grey or thinning. His face was lean, not precisely handsome but intelligent and interesting. It might even have been charming but for a mysterious look of heaviness.

Heaviness. That was it. He seemed worn down by dead weights that he'd carried so long they were part of him. They aged him cruelly, but not permanently. Sometimes she'd surprised a gleam of humour in his eyes that hinted at another man, one it might be intriguing to know.

She quickened her steps, suddenly eager to talk to him again, wondering if he would still be there. He might have walked out. Or perhaps he was calling David to complain about her.

But as soon as she went in she saw him sitting where she'd left him, staring into space, seemingly full of silent sadness. Her heart was touched, despite her efforts to prevent it.

Control, warned her inner voice. Stay impartial. His outrageous request must be considered objectively.

How?

She approached quietly and pulled out a chair facing him. He looked up in surprise.

‘I'm sorry I stormed out like that,' she said. ‘Sometimes I get into a temper. Shocking loss of objectivity, especially in a lawyer. A wise man wouldn't want to employ me.'

‘There's such a thing as being too wise,' Roscoe said gently. ‘I'm sorry, too. I never meant to offend you. I expressed myself badly, and you were naturally upset.'

‘You didn't express yourself badly. You laid out your requirements for your employee, making yourself plain on all counts, so that I'd understand everything before committing myself. That was very proper.'

He winced. ‘I wish you wouldn't talk like that.'

‘I'm merely trying to be professional.' She gave a wry smile. ‘It's just not very nice to have people thinking I'm a tart. It's even worse when that's my chief qualification for a job.'

‘I never said that,' he disclaimed hurriedly. ‘Nor did I mean it. But you do seem to have the ability to love 'em and leave 'em.'

‘Oh, I believe in leaving 'em. I just manage without the love 'em bit.'

‘That's what I want. You can cope with Charlie better than a more naive girl would. You could handle him, keep him in order, make him see things your way. What's funny?' Her sudden chuckle had disconcerted him.

‘You are,' she said. ‘You're making such a mess of this. What you really want is a heartless woman who can take care of herself, and you're tying yourself in knots trying to say so without actually saying the words. No, no—' she held up a hand to silence his denial ‘—we've covered that ground. Let it go.'

‘Will you help me?' he asked slowly.

‘If I can, but things may not work out as you plan. You've
assumed that he'll take one look at me and collapse with adoration. Suppose he doesn't?'

‘I think that would be a really new experience for you,' he said, trying to sound casual.

‘Not at all. The world is full of men who are indifferent to my charms.'

‘You just haven't met them yet.'

‘I've met plenty.'

‘Splendid! Then you'll know what to do. Just use whatever methods you normally use to overcome their resistance.'

Her lips twitched. ‘I could take that as another insult.'

‘Yes, you could—if you were determined to.'

‘What does that mean?'

‘I means that I've realised that you can twist everything I say into an insult, and you do it whenever it suits you. So now I'm fighting back.'

‘How?'

‘By refusing to let you bully me,' he said firmly. ‘I am
not
going to cower and watch every word in case you misunderstand. You don't actually misunderstand anything. You know I don't really mean to insult you, so don't try to score points off me. I don't want you to seduce Charlie. I want you to beguile him, make his head spin until he'll follow your lead. You'll do a good job and I'll respect you for it. And if we fight, we fight openly. Agreed?'

There was a definite no-nonsense tone to his voice, making it clear that he meant every word. He was putting his foot down, asserting himself, warning her not to mess with him—all the powerful, dominant things that she had instinctively associated with him.

And yet—and yet—

Far back in his eyes, that look was there again—a gleam that might have been conspiratorial humour.

Or perhaps not.

After a moment Pippa held out her hand to him. ‘Agreed.'

They shook. She took out a notebook and spoke formally. ‘I need to know as much about the gang he's running around with as you can tell me.'

‘They're all young people who seem to live on the edge of the law. They don't even have proper addresses. They squat, which means they move on a lot as they get caught. I don't know for a fact that they steal, but they don't have any regular source of income. Charlie definitely gives Ginevra money. They live from hand to mouth, which he finds exciting. Here. That's the two of them together.'

From an inner pocket he took out a photograph that seemed to have been taken in a crowded room, probably a squat. In the centre, a young couple lay back in each other's arms.

‘He keeps that as a treasured souvenir,' Roscoe observed curtly. ‘I wanted you to see it, so I stole it from him.'

‘Good for you,' Pippa murmured. Studying the picture, she felt a rising tide of excitement. ‘Yes, now I begin to understand. She's up to her old tricks.'

‘You know her?' Roscoe demanded, startled.

‘Yes, and her name's not Ginevra, it's Biddy Felsom. I suppose she thought the new name sounded more glamorous. Her hobby is teasing the lads to do daft things to win her favour. She's done a lot of damage in her time. What's the matter?'

The question was surprised from her by the sight of Roscoe's face, filled with shock and dismay as he stared over her shoulder. The next moment she heard, above her head, the petulant voice of a young man.

‘So there you are, Roscoe. Hiding from me, I suppose. You must have known I'd be over here as soon as I found out what you were up to.'

‘Charlie—'

‘Well, you can forget it, do you hear? I know exactly the
kind of creep you'll want to hire for me, all settled and respectable. Let's be respectable, whatever else happens. No way. I'll find my own lawyer—someone who understands the world and lives in the present.
Ow!
'

He hopped back, wincing as Pippa's chair was pushed out hard against his leg.

‘I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that to happen,' she said untruthfully.

Gazing up at him, she knew he had a grandstand view of her face and the generous curves of her breasts, with just one button of the sedate blouse undone. Now the smile, soft and warm, dawning slowly, suggesting that she'd been pleasantly amazed at the attractions of the young man looking down at her.

‘Hello,' she said.

C
HARLIE
drew a long, slow breath, visibly stunned. This was useful, Pippa thought, bringing a professional mind to bear on the situation, because it gave her the chance to study him.

He was certainly handsome. His face was slightly fuller than his brother's, just enough to give it a vivacious quality that was alluring. His mouth was attractively curved, and she guessed that many a girl had sighed hopelessly for him. He was too boyish to attract her, but he seemed pleasant.

‘Hello,' he murmured, distracted. Then he recovered his poise and seated himself next to Pippa. ‘Look, I'm sorry. I'm only mad at him.' He indicated Roscoe.

‘He must be an absolutely terrible person,' she said sympathetically.

‘He is. Definitely.'

‘And now he wants to force his choice of lawyer on you—someone middle-aged and ignorant of the modern world, who won't understand you. Oh, yes, and
respectable
. Shocking!'

She couldn't meet Roscoe's eye. He was leaning back, regarding her performance with wry appreciation.

‘By the way, I'm Charlie Havering,' the young man said, holding out a hand.

‘I'm Pippa Jenson,' she said, taking it. ‘And I'm your lawyer.'

Charlie grinned. ‘Yeah, right!'

‘Seriously. I'm a solicitor. I work for Farley & Son.'

‘But you can't be,' Charlie protested. ‘You don't look at all respectable.'

‘Watch your manners, Charlie,' Roscoe said. ‘This is a highly qualified lady you're talking to.'

‘I can see that,' Charlie said, taking her hand. ‘
Very
highly qualified.'

Roscoe caught his breath as he found himself surrounded by double entendres. ‘I only meant,' he said carefully, ‘that she's a professional—no, not like that—'

He swore inwardly as he realised what Pippa could make of this, but she surprised him, bursting out laughing. Laughter possessed her utterly, making her rock back and forth while peals of merriment danced up from her and Charlie regarded her with delight. In fact Roscoe realised that everyone in the place was smiling at her, as though just by being there she brightened the day.

She reached across the table and took Roscoe's hand. ‘Oh, shut up,' she told him, still laughing, ‘You make it worse with every word.'

‘I don't mean to. I was considering your feelings,' he said stiffly, withdrawing his hand.

‘Heavens, we're way past that. Enough. It's finished.'

‘As you wish. But Charlie, behave yourself.'

‘Why, when I'm talking to the most gorgeous girl I've ever met?
Hey!
'

One moment he was leaning close in a seductive conspiracy. The next, he was bouncing with agitation at something he'd seen.

‘It's him,' he yelped, leaping to his feet. ‘Just let me get to him.'

Across the restaurant, a long-haired young man turned in alarm, then vanished between some curtains, closely followed by Charlie.

‘What was that?' Pippa said, looking around.

‘A man who owes him money,' Roscoe observed. ‘One of many.'

‘So that's your brother. He'll be an interesting client. Yes, I think I'll accept his case.'

It was on the tip of Roscoe's tongue to tell her to forget it because he'd changed his mind. But he controlled the impulse, as he controlled so many impulses in his life, and sat in tense silence, a prey to opposing feelings. On the surface, things were working out exactly as he'd wanted. The smile she'd given Charlie was perfect for the purpose, and it had had the desired effect. His brother had been transfixed, just as Roscoe had meant him to be. So, what more did he want?

He didn't know. All he knew for certain was that he hated it.

‘Pippa,' he said edgily, ‘I must be honest, I think you're going about this the wrong way.'

‘What?' She stared at him. ‘I'm doing what you said you wanted.'

‘Yes, but I had in mind something a little more—' He hesitated, made cautious by the look in her eyes.

‘A little more what?' she asked in a voice that was softly dangerous.

‘More subtle,' he said desperately.

‘Mr Havering, are you telling me how to do my job?'

‘I wouldn't dare.'

‘Really? I'm not sure of that. Perhaps we should have discussed this before now, so that you could tell me exactly how a woman goes about beguiling a man? After all, I know so little about the subject, don't I? How stupid of me not to have taken lessons from you! Why don't you instruct me now so that I'll know which boxes to tick?'

‘All right,' he said quickly. ‘Of course you know more than I do about this.'

‘Which I thought was why you hired me. Anyway, I'm not doing well, since his attention was so easily distracted. One hint of an unpaid debt and he's off. Hmm! Perhaps I should review my strategy.'

‘I feel sure your strategy is quite up to the challenge.'

‘It's the first time a man has walked away from me when I was trying to mesmerise him. I could feel quite insulted by that.'

‘You're having a bad day for insults, aren't you?'

‘Between you and him, yes.'

‘Then I may as well add to my crimes by pointing out that he didn't walk away from you, he ran away at full speed. Perhaps I've hired the wrong person.'

‘You could be right. Desperate measures are called for. I must lure my prey into a net from which he cannot escape.'

‘Always assuming that he returns at all,' Roscoe pointed out. ‘You may have to go after him.'

‘Please!' She appeared horrified. ‘I never “go after” a man. They come after me.'

‘Always?' he asked, eyes narrowed.

‘If I want them to. Sometimes I don't bother.' Thoroughly enjoying his discomfiture, she smiled. ‘And never mind condemning me as a hussy, because that's exactly what you hired me for.'

‘Is there any point in my defending myself?' he growled.

‘None whatever,' she assured him.

She was curious to know what he would say next, but Charlie spoiled things by reappearing, cursing because his prey had escaped.

‘Did he owe you very much?' Pippa asked, turning from Roscoe with reluctance.

‘A few thousand.'

‘Perhaps we can recover it by legal action,' she suggested.

‘Ah…no,' he said awkwardly. ‘It's a bit…well…'

‘All right, let's leave it,' she said quickly. ‘The sooner we get down to business, the better.'

‘Yes, we must have a long talk over dinner,' Charlie said. ‘The Diamond is the best place in town. Come on, let's go.'

‘First you ask Miss Jenson if she is free,' Roscoe said firmly. ‘If she is, then you ask if she can endure an evening with us.'

‘
Us?
Ah, well—I didn't actually mean that you should come with—'

‘I know exactly what you meant, and you can forget that idea. Miss Jenson, could you put up with the two of us for a few more hours?'

‘I'll do my best,' she said solemnly. ‘We have serious matters to discuss.'

‘I agree, so we can forget The Diamond,' Roscoe said, taking out his cellphone and dialling. ‘Hello, Mother? Yes, it's me. We're on our way home and we have a guest. I've found a first-rate lawyer for Charlie, so roll out the red carpet for her. Fine. See you soon.' He ended the call.

Charlie, who had been spluttering fruitlessly, now found his voice. ‘What about how I feel?' he demanded.

‘The Diamond is no place for a serious discussion.'

‘And doesn't Pippa get a say?'

‘Miss Jenson has already done us the honour of agreeing to dine with us. Since this is a business meeting, I'm sure she feels that the venue is irrelevant.'

‘Certainly,' Pippa said in her briskest tone. ‘I have no opinion either way.'

‘You're going to just let him walk over you?' Charlie demanded.

Pippa couldn't resist. Giving Roscoe a cheeky sideways
look, she leaned towards Charlie and said, ‘It can't be helped. In my job you get used to clients who want to rule the roost.' She added conspiratorially, ‘There are ways of dealing with them.'

The young man choked with laughter, jerking his head towards Roscoe. ‘Think you can get him on the ropes?'

‘Think I can't?'

She was watching Roscoe for his reaction. There was none. His eyes were on her but his face revealed nothing. Clearly, the notion of tussling with her, whether physically or emotionally, caused him no excitement.

‘Just promise that I can be there to see you crush him beneath your heel,' Charlie implored.

‘When you two have finished,' Roscoe said in a bored voice.

‘Just a little innocent fun,' Charlie protested.

‘Sorry, I don't do fun.' Roscoe's voice was so withering that Pippa threw him another quick glance. For a moment his face was tight, hard, older.

‘That's right, he doesn't,' Charlie said.

‘OK, I'm here,' said a voice overhead.

Charlie groaned, then bounced up as he recognised the man who owed him money, now holding out an envelope.

‘I only ran to get this,' he said. ‘I always meant to repay you.' He dropped the envelope and fled. The reason became obvious a moment later.

‘There's only half here,' Charlie yelped. ‘Hey, come back!' He resumed the pursuit.

Alone again, Roscoe and Pippa eyed each other, suspicion on one side, defiance on the other.

‘How am I doing?' she asked.

‘You've certainly got his attention. I'd give a lot to know what he's thinking.'

‘He believes what he wants to believe,' she said with a
small flash of anger. ‘
Men always do.
Didn't you know that? I know it. And so does any woman who's ever had a man in her life.'

‘And when a woman knows it she makes use of it?'

‘She does if she has any sense of self-preservation. And may I remind you again, Mr Havering, that I'm doing what you hired me to do? You're paying for my skills, but you don't get to dictate what skills I use or how I use them.'

‘Don't I?'

‘No, because if you try I'll simply step aside and let Charlie see you pulling my strings.'

He drew a sharp breath. ‘You really know how to fight dirty.'

‘Have you only just realised that?'

He regarded her. ‘I think I have.'

‘Good, then we understand each other. Now he's coming back. Smile at me so that he'll know that all is well between us.'

‘I wonder if that day will ever come,' he said softly.

But the next moment he was smiling as she'd suggested, even talking pleasantly, loud enough for Charlie to hear. ‘My mother's housekeeper is an expert cook. I promise that you'll enjoy tonight's meal, Miss Havering.'

‘Pippa,' she said. ‘After all, we're fighting on the same side.'

His eyes warned her not to push her luck, but he only inclined his head before rising and saying, ‘I'll get the car. Be waiting for me outside and don't take too long.'

She longed to salute him ironically and say,
Yes sir, no sir. I obey, sir.
But he was gone before she had the chance.

‘That's his way,' Charlie said, correctly interpreting her seething. ‘People give up arguing. You will too.'

‘Will I? I wonder. Did you catch up with that man?'

‘No, he escaped again. But at least I got some of the money.
And now we're alone, can I tell you that you are the most beautiful creature I've ever met?'

‘No, you can't tell me that,' she said. ‘For one thing, I already know and, for another, your brother wouldn't approve.'

‘Oh, forget him. What does he have to do with us?'

Pippa frowned. ‘He's protecting you. Don't you owe him some kind of consideration?'

‘Why? He's only thinking of himself. The good name of Havering must be defended at all costs. The truth is, he cares for nobody.'

‘And nobody cares for him?' she murmured slowly.

Charlie shrugged. ‘Who knows? He doesn't let anyone inside.'

It sounded so convincing, but suddenly there was the whispered memory of Roscoe saying, ‘If anything happens to Charlie, it would break my mother's heart… At all costs I want to save her from more suffering.'

This wasn't a man who cared nothing for anyone. He might care so much that he only admitted it under stress.

Or perhaps Charlie was right. Which of the two was the real man? Impossible to say. Unless…

Suddenly the waiter hurried up to them, almost stuttering in his agitation. ‘He's in the car…says he told you to be out there waiting for him. He's good 'n mad.'

They ran outside to where Roscoe's car was by the kerb, engine running. When they had tumbled into the back seat, Pippa said politely, ‘I'm really sorry,' but Roscoe only grunted, his eyes on the traffic as he edged his way into the flow. She supposed she couldn't blame him.

Their destination was an expensive London suburb, full of large detached houses standing in luxurious gardens. A woman was waiting by the gate, smiling and waving at the sight of them. She was thin and frail-looking, and Pippa
recalled Roscoe saying that she'd been in a bad way ever since his father's death, fifteen years earlier.

But her face was brilliant with joy as Charlie got out of the car and she could hug him. He handed Pippa out and she found herself being scrutinised by two bright eyes before Angela Havering thrust out a hand declaring that she was
so
glad to meet her.

Roscoe drove the car away.

‘He has to park at the back,' Charlie explained. ‘He'll join us in a minute.'

‘Come inside,' Angela said, taking her hand. ‘I want to know all about you, and how you're going to save my dear boy.'

She drew Pippa into the house, a lavishly elegant establishment, clearly furnished and tended by someone who'd brought housekeeping to a fine art, with the cash to do it.