Wedding-Night Baby (9 page)

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Authors: Kim Lawrence

BOOK: Wedding-Night Baby
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Callum's wry expression acknowledged her unsubtle change of subject. ‘We've been friends since we were at Harvard Business School together. I know I'm meant to be wet behind the ears so don't spread the news I'm not straight from the bush; it's useful to be underestimated occasionally.' There was a glimmer of humour in his blue eyes. ‘Peter's tired of being a big cog in someone else's machine. He's been on the lookout for a fresh challenge for some time. I've given him the option to buy out my share in three years' time if things work out.'
‘Why are you telling
me
this?' she asked frankly.
‘I thought your discretion was legendary?' he said mockingly.
She looked at him in open confusion. ‘You don't trust me,' she protested.
‘On a personal level, never,' he agreed. Why she should feel so devastated by this piece of blunt honesty was mystifying. ‘Professionally I might have to consider,' he conceded. ‘So long as I keep in mind you're a hungry lady, and I use the term loosely, striving hard to get to the top.'
‘Big of you,' she observed, her voice tinged with anger.
‘I think so,' he agreed benignly. ‘I don't like ambitious women, but I can appreciate talent. Did Oliver use you to deliberately needle the designer suits out there?' he asked, settling into the big chair and committing the sacrilege of putting his feet up onto the gleaming mahogany of the vast desk. He loosened his tie as he turned the full glare of his scrutiny onto her.
The swift shift from formality to this relaxed style had her brain working overtime to see what hidden agenda was behind the false sense of security his attitude was creating. Also, his propensity for seeing the hidden motive was uncanny; anyone would think the devil could read minds!
‘He liked to keep them on their toes,' she admitted reluctantly. ‘Also, he could be genuinely paranoid about confidentiality, as you must have guessed. He didn't want anyone else muscling in on his clients; he liked to be the one they wanted. But then I suppose we all like to be indispensable to someone.' She gave a faint, bitter smile. ‘I think he was quite flattered when people thought I was...' She paused, hot colour seeping beneath the creamy tinge of her skin as she realised she'd voiced her private speculations out loud.
‘You mean you managed to keep him dangling on a string. How clever of you.'
‘I'm not responsible for the sordid state of people's minds,' she snapped.
‘If they knew about your little windfall I'm sure even the most charitable would imagine the worst.'
As he did, of course, she thought bitterly. ‘Is that a threat?' she asked derisively. ‘I didn't ask your uncle for anything except a chance to show what I could do. I haven't the faintest idea why he made such a gesture.' Though, knowing Oliver, there had to be some reason; he had never done anything without a reason. Her troubled mind returned to the unopened manila envelope. She still hadn't been able to bring herself to examine its contents.
‘I don't know why you don't come clean with me, Georgina. I'm not interested in your morals, just the smooth running of this firm.'
‘That's rich,' she said incredulously. ‘It seems to me you're exceedingly interested in my morals. Just because I spent one night with you you seem to think you're the world authority on me. Why am I classed as the tramp? Weren't you there that night too?'
The air of casual humour dissipated in the blink of an eye. His legs shot down from their resting place and he was on his feet in an instant.
‘
I
was also there in the morning. Which reminds me, I have something that belongs to you.' He withdrew a handful of notes from his wallet and flung them at her. Caught in a warm current of air, the pieces of paper fluttered slowly to the floor. ‘I'm not liberated enough to allow a woman to pay for my room.'
She ignored the action, telling herself such childishness was beneath her contempt, but she couldn't ignore the lick of pure rage that was visible in his eyes.
‘I made a mistake,' she said flatly. ‘Even before I realised who you were.' She almost choked on her sense of outrage. What right did he have to act so superior? Anyone would think he was the injured party. ‘Do you think I would have slept with you if I'd known the truth?' she
demanded, her voice hoarse with anger. ‘You knew that. Why else would you have carried on with the subterfuge?'
‘You're the one who wanted me to act a part. How was I to know how far you wanted it go to?' he bit back. ‘Or have you chosen to forget that you instigated one deception? It just gave birth to another. As for telling you who I was, at the moment you're talking about we were both fairly incapable of thinking much past the gratification of our primitive needs.' His glittering gaze challenged her to deny this version of affairs.
But Georgina was far too concerned with coping with the surge of life that jolted her composure to its foundations. Images spun in her head to torment and tease her; even closing her eyes didn't block them. When she opened them again he continued, his tone now caustic and harsh.
‘You took away any opportunity for me to remedy the situation when you sneaked away like a thief in the night.'
Thief? If anyone had had anything stolen it was her! But innate honesty made her bite back this retort. He hadn't taken anything she hadn't been anxious to give away. The awful irony of it was that, even now, in the midst of hating him, she could still see how easy it would be to give again. It was difficult to think straight when she was reliving those intimate moments.
‘Am I supposed to believe you'd have done that?' she sneered with as much scorn as she could muster. The fact that even the humiliating truth couldn't kill off this attraction she felt towards him was difficult to cope with. ‘Or were you just looking forward to seeing me squirm, having totally humiliated me?'
Contempt darkened his eyes as he held her gaze. ‘I did nothing to you you didn't want. If you choose to call it humiliation, that's up to you.'
He gave a shrug and slid his tie back into place. His slipped control also seemed firmly back in place, and despite
the subject matter his attitude was that of someone speaking to an employee—which was all she was, she reminded herself firmly.
‘I'm not taking full responsibility for the situation, if that's what you're after. I was in the right place at the right time. The female of the species like to act as though lust is something only men are afflicted with, but we both know different, Georgina.'
The scorn in her laugh made his lips tighten. Despite the air-conditioning her clothes stuck to her skin as cold perspiration broke out over her body; the effort required to stay in the room was physical. Her thoughts were in turmoil; his jibe had made her examine something that had been sitting on the edge of her consciousness. The sense of empathic recognition she'd felt when she'd first seen him—it had gone deeper than merely physical for her, no matter what he said.
No other man had ever been able to break down the protective barriers she'd constructed. What she'd felt for Alex had been negligible when she recalled the state of chaos she'd been in since she'd met this man. How often had Alex even crossed her mind these last days? The guilty answer made her wince.
‘I think you already know you were a substitute,' she said, and from somewhere she summoned a gentle mocking smile. Inside, her heart was being constricted by an iron hand.
After a pulse of pure fury, which, given her words, couldn't be wondered at, ice descended over his expression. ‘I won't keep you.' He glanced pointedly at his wristwatch. ‘I'm expecting someone. I want to know how you get on today; I'll meet you for dinner.'
The dismissal and the cool order made her bristle with antagonism. Dinner and Callum was a combination she knew she should avoid at all costs, even had the invitation
been made in an acceptable manner. If he thought he could click his fingers and she'd come running it was about time she taught him that this was not the case.
‘I don't want to go to dinner with you.'
‘Then you can watch me eat,' he said, eyeing her in a bored fashion that only intensified her indignation. ‘I have a heavy schedule; tonight is the only time I can see you and I have no intention of fasting for your benefit. You look like a woman who likes her food.'
Her bosom swelled in anger as his eyes slid over her gentle curves. ‘Are you implying I'm fat?' The second the words were out of her mouth she wished she could snatch them back. The pettish comment only invited personal observations likely to shrivel her with mortification.
His eyelids lowered over the brilliant glare of his eyes but she knew they were moving over her body and the tension in the room suddenly seemed stretched tight enough to snap. ‘I'd say your flesh-to-bone ratio is as near perfect as it gets,' he said drily.
The oddly impersonal compliment gave her a small spurt of irrational dissatisfaction. ‘I'm not a horse,' she snapped.
The concealing fringe of eyelashes lifted and her breath caught as she saw that his glance was anything but impersonal. ‘I'm painfully aware of that, but I thought you might not care for a more comprehensive appreciation of your physical attributes in the office environment. I wouldn't like to be accused of sexual harassment,' he said mockingly. ‘But if you're interested...I could tell you how incredibly sensuous I find the way your hips flare out from your waist and the dimple you have—'
‘No, don't!' Repelled by and conversely drawn to the words that slid like honey from his lips, she backed away, reaching for and eventually finding the doorhandle.
Callum's lips quirked in a wry smile that indicated he
understood the ambiguity of her feelings. Not all of the heat died from his sombre eyes. ‘I'll expect an update this evening, then. Be ready at eight.'
She was so anxious to escape the confines of the room that she didn't even feel angry at the peremptory order. Just out of the door, she almost collided with a tall brunette. She pushed her spectacles further up the bridge of her nose and mumbled an apology.
She received a glowing smile in return and a cheerful, ‘No problem.' The girl's attention slid away from her and Georgina turned her head in time to see her fling herself with unselfconscious enthusiasm into Callum's open arms. ‘Cal, angel, I've got the most brilliant news.'
Georgina heard him laugh; it was such an uncomplicated sound of pure pleasure, echoing the expression on his face, that it hurt. She turned away, conscious only of the pain that throbbed in her temples and the slick churning in her stomach. She walked past Mary, aware that, to her, every time she emerged from Callum's office she must look like a candidate for resuscitation. Come to think of it, she felt like a candidate for resuscitation!
Consciously she straightened her shoulders, and her chin went up as she assumed a cheerful expression. ‘Who was that, Mary?' she asked casually.
‘Tricia Stewart,' Mary replied, and the sympathy in her eyes made Georgina shift uncomfortably. ‘Mrs Stewart,' she added in a small, apologetic tone.
‘I see,' Georgina said carefully. Why should I care if he's married to
thirty
women? she asked herself. I would never knowingly have slept with a married man. The mixture of envy, guilt and sympathy she experienced as she thought of that glowing girl was suffocating. Rage licked along her veins; he had placed her in an impossible position! He was a faithless pig. Wait until tonight! She'd have a few home truths to deliver to Mr Callum Stewart. She
placed her fingers to her throbbing temples. God, he might even have children!
To work off her fury she concentrated with grim tenacity on her work and made a gratifying amount of headway. Ironically, the faster she achieved her goals, the nearer she got to making herself redundant as far as Mallory's was concerned. Still, the sooner she was in a position never to see Callum again the better!
 
‘You're not dressed.'
The words shattered the instant of
déjà vu
as she opened the door to the tall, rugged stranger. Only now he wasn't a stranger... anything but. He looked distressingly drop-dead gorgeous in the dark formal suit and she compressed her lips, hating her intense appreciation of the fact and wishing her nose weren't sensitive to the elusive fragrance that drifted from his body.
‘I am dressed,' she contradicted him firmly. She glanced down at her jeans which had seen better days and the pale blue shirt knotted loosely at her waist.
He made an impatient sound in his throat and pushed past her. She closed the door. Short of calling for armed assistance, she decided philosophically, she had no way of evicting him forcibly. ‘Make yourself at home,' she said sarcastically, following him into the sitting room.
‘You've got ten minutes to get ready.'
‘You may be able to order me around like some sort of tinpot dictator at the office, but I'm not paid to suffer you out of office hours,' she observed flatly, folding her arms across her chest. The action caused her shirt to rise up, revealing a portion of her smooth, flat midriff, and she hastily lowered her arms to her side. His glance had homed in on the expanse of flesh and she saw, rather to her surprise, colour suffuse the crest of his cheekbones.

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