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‘In here.’ He had guided her across the enormous expanse and through an open door before she realised what was happening, and she found herself in a room that would have graced any stately home. ‘Sit down.’ She sank gratefully into the chair, which immediately dwarfed her small shape in its vastness; her legs had been beginning to give way. ‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked expressionlessly.
‘I’m sorry?’ She dragged her eyes away from the beautifully furnished room with some difficulty and gazed vacantly at his dark face as he gestured towards a large drinks cabinet at one side of the massive fireplace.
‘A drink?’ he asked irritably.
She nodded tightly, her face chary. ‘Sherry, please, but I’m not stopping here long. I’ll get a taxi home.’
He poured a stiff measure of Scotch into a heavy crystal tumbler and what looked like half a bottle of pale cream sherry into a large schooner glass and walked over to her, handing her the drink before seating himself in the large armchair opposite which hardly looked big enough to hold his broad shape. All this wealth, all this luxury; how much of it had been obtained by wrecking people’s lives the way he had theirs? she wondered suddenly, with a surge of anger. Driving desperate businessmen to the limit, calling in creditors, withholding loans, re-fusing time extensions…The list was endless and no doubt he knew all the tricks.
‘OK, the spark is back in those brown eyes,’ he said softly. ‘Let’s have it all, and from the be-ginning, please.’
‘What’s the point?’ She took a gulp of the sherry and tried to fight back the flood of emotion that was threatening to take her over. All this money—her father’s little firm had been a drop in the ocean to him!
‘The point is you made some pretty serious accusations tonight,’ he said furiously. ‘Planned to give me maximum aggravation. Now that smells bad to me, my pretty. What are you after?’
‘After!’ She spat the word at him as she set the sherry glass down with a bang on the little table next to the chair and stood up in a jerky movement to pace over to the crackling fire. She was cold, so cold, she’d never be warm again. She shivered violently. And she hated this man.
‘Here.’ He rose quickly when he noticed the con-vulsive movement as the warmth flicked her frozen nerves. ‘I didn’t give you your coat, did I? It’s still in the car.’ As she felt the heavy material of his suit jacket slide over her shoulders she stiffened in protest. The cloth was impregnated with the clean, sensual smell of him and she didn’t want it near her.
‘I don’t want it.’ She shrugged the jacket off her shoulders and handed it back to him abruptly, her eyes dark in the whiteness of her face.
His eyes narrowed as he took the coat from her and she knew he sensed her revulsion of any contact with him. It was there in the stiffening of the hard square jaw and the faintly cruel tightening of the firm mouth. That raw, almost tangible fascination was back in full force, she noted despairingly, the wide, powerful set of his shoulders more accentuated now under the silky blue shirt he wore easily, his hard masculine body taut and still as he stared down at her without speaking for long, tight seconds.
‘You’re pushing me to the limit,’ he said at last in hard, measured tones. ‘I don’t make idle threats, Miss Gordon. I don’t want to hurt you, but——’
‘Hurt me?’ It would have been funny if it hadn’t been so painfully sad, she thought bitterly as she surveyed him through eyes misted with hot tears. ‘Hurt me? You can’t do anything to me that you haven’t already done, Mr Steel,’ she said shakily as she strove to maintain her grip on herself. ‘Your ruthless greed lost my father his business, his home and ultimately his life. Everything is gone, every-thing. You have effectively wiped out the first twenty-two years of my life. How could you follow that?’ She pushed back her heavy fold of silky black hair from her shoulders with a trembling hand as she spoke. ‘And the worst thing of all is that you didn’t even remember his name.’
The tears that had been threatening to overflow all night wouldn’t be denied any longer and, as she lowered her head blindly, her cheeks wet with the warm, salty flow, she realised, with a stab of horror, that she was going to make an even worse fool of herself than she had already. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it, not a thing.
CHAPTER TWO
QUITE how she found herself cradled in the strong, hard arms Janie never did know, but the big masculine chest was incredibly comforting as she howled out her misery, in spite of it belonging to the perpetrator of all the pain.
When the tempest had ceased and her weeping had died to the odd hiccuping sob, he put her firmly to one side.
‘So your grievance is genuine,’ he stated expressionlessly. She glanced up at him quickly, noting that the hard blue eyes were guarded and there was a subtle change in him she couldn’t quite discern. His mouth was still cruel and cynical, the deep lines grooved either side of his nose still fiercely prominent and the overall impression was still one of ruthless ferocity, and yet…there was some-thing. ‘I can recognise real misery when I see it, Miss Gordon,’ he said slowly, ‘but your actions are still inexcusable. You could have made an appointment to speak with me at any time to sort out this misunderstanding——’
‘Misunderstanding!’ She reared up like a small tigress. ‘There’s no misunderstanding, believe me, and you can’t fool me like that either; I’m not stupid.’
‘I won’t make the obvious retort to that statement,’ he said coldly. ‘Your actions speak far louder than any words of mine could do. How long has it been since your father died?’ he finished abruptly.
‘Two years.’ She stared at him tightly.
‘Did you cry when he died?’ He ignored the painful tensing of her body, his face demanding an answer.
‘Well, of course…’ Her voice trailed away as her brow puckered in thought. ‘No, I suppose not, not really.’
‘That is very bad for your soul.’ She stared at him in surprise. It was the last thing she had expected from a callous, harsh entrepreneur like him. ‘It creates a darkness, like a web, that blankets everything.’
‘Look, I’m fine.’ She straightened slightly as she spoke, her chin jutting out aggressively. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’ The last words were full of meaning and he nodded slightly, his eyes hardening.
‘I take it we’re back to the accusations?’
‘Oh, you know what I mean.’ She brushed a strand of hair from her damp face wearily. ‘You can’t have forgotten so completely. I could see you remembered at the hotel.’
‘The name of your father’s firm, that is all.’ She was aware as they talked, in a tiny separate little compartment in her mind, that her body was still registering the feel and smell of him as he had held her in his arms. The knowledge was painful and treacherous and altogether unwelcome, but it was there. She had never met anyone like him before. She didn’t like the way he made her feel, but she couldn’t do anything about it either. Every little cell in her body seemed determined to hold on to the tingling electricity his hard male shape had induced. ‘Look, start at the beginning; humour me.’
As he walked across the room to his chair her senses registered a carefulness in his walk, almost a hesitancy, that was incongruous in such a giant of a man, but as he sat down she brushed the fancy aside irritably. He was getting under her skin for some reason and she could do without it.
‘Well, there’s not much to tell really.’ She sniffed dismally and looked across at him slowly. ‘Have you got a handkerchief?’
‘Yes, I’ve got a handkerchief.’ He answered her in the same dull tone in which she had spoken and a burst of adrenalin put scarlet in her cheeks as he reached across with a large square of white cotton. Had she sounded like that? She’d have to watch herself—it wouldn’t do for him to think he had the upper hand. And how dared he mock her?
‘My father founded the firm with my mother the year I was born,’ she said quietly, after she had blown her nose and settled back in her seat. ‘They did quite well too—we had a nice house and the usual little luxuries. Not like this, of course—’ her eyes bit at him with heavy sarcasm ‘—but we were happy.’
‘Yes?’ he prompted her as she paused, her eyes cloudy with memories.
‘Then my mother got ill, a heart complaint, when I was in my early teens. Dad spent more and more time with her. I don’t think she knew he mortgaged the house to keep the firm going—I certainly didn’t. She died just as I started university.’
‘I’m sorry.’ The piercing blue eyes never left her face for a moment, the deep voice quite devoid of expression.
‘Dad was devastated, naturally, but then he threw himself into the firm, trying to claw back the time he had lost, I guess, and he was doing quite well. We had a loyal workforce and he could spend as many hours as he wanted there now with Mum gone, which helped him actually, took his mind off things. He’d just secured a big contract which he was thrilled about; it would have made the house safe again and he wanted that for me, but then——’ She stopped abruptly and raised her eyes full on his face. ‘Then Steel Enterprises stepped in.’
‘How?’ he asked grimly.
‘Don’t you remember?’ She stared at him angrily. ‘It was only just over two years ago; you can’t have forgotten the details so quickly.’
‘Do you have any idea just how vast my corporation is?’ he asked tightly. ‘And I have other business interests abroad that take a lot of my time and attention. I can’t personally get involved in everything.’
‘No, I suppose not.’ The thought hadn’t occurred to her and her eyes opened wide for an instant. ‘Well, you—your firm,’ she corrected hastily, ‘had bought the rest of the block our small factory and office was in and you wanted our space. There was nowhere else we could go immediately—your offer was abysmally low. It was common knowledge that Dad’s firm was having problems, and when Dad refused to sell you put the squeeze on.’
‘I see.’ His face was blank, almost uninterested.
‘Banks suddenly foreclosed, contracts died, the whole caboodle folded in on itself.’ She glared at him angrily. ‘It’s a lovely way to do business, isn’t it, Mr Steel, but I suppose all is fair in love and war? That’s obviously the principle you promote. Even if you yourself weren’t personally overseeing this particular deal, you can’t tell me your employees would go against the rules, your normal operating procedures.’
‘I wasn’t aware I had to tell you anything,’ he said coldly and she flinched at the icy tone. He was talking to her, listening, but part of his mind seemed to be ticking on elsewhere. She stared at him hard. What was he thinking about? ‘Do continue.’ He leant forward slightly, the movement causing her heart to jump into her mouth as the shirt stretched tight for a moment over his broad chest. Stop it, she chided herself angrily, you’re as jumpy as a kitten.
‘And goodbye firm.’ She forced herself to speak calmly. ‘Goodbye house. Dad got a part-time job for a pittance and lodged with friends, and within four months he was dead. The doctor said it was pneumonia aggravated by a dose of flu, but he just gave up the will to live, that’s what killed him.’ She stared at him painfully. ‘He wanted to die; he told me so.’
‘And you blame me for that?’
‘Totally.’ She rose as she spoke. ‘My dad used to have a saying—the buck stops here. Do you know it?’ She smiled grimly. ‘Well, the buck stopped fair and square at your door, Mr Steel, even if you aren’t man enough to pick it up. Your company policies stink, your employees stink—and you stink.’
‘Graphically put,’ he said sardonically.
‘And that’s it?’ Two bright spots of colour burnt in her cheeks as she faced him, her thick black hair shining red under the bright artificial lights, her dark brown eyes enormous. ‘A touch of sarcasm while holding on to your precious dignity? No apology, no regret, no guilt?’
‘I have nothing to feel guilty about.’ He too had risen, to walk across to a long bell-cord in the corner of the room which he pulled twice. Almost immediately the door opened to reveal a pretty, petite maid complete with starched apron and mob-cap. ‘Could you ask Mrs Langton to step in here a moment, please, June?’ he asked smoothly. ‘I’d like a word with her.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The maid’s big blue eyes opened wide at the sight of Janie. ‘I’m sorry, sir, we didn’t know you were home. We thought you were out for the evening——’
‘My plans changed.’ The words were dismissive and the small girl immediately left the room with a quick, nervous nod of her head. ‘I’m going to order us dinner.’ As the blue eyes fastened on Janie she stared at him in horror.
‘Not for me, Mr Steel,’ she said quickly. ‘I’ve had my say; I want to go home.’
‘No way.’ His voice was curt. ‘I haven’t finished with you yet, not by a long chalk, besides which I need to check your story.’
‘Not now?’ She glanced at the small gold wrist-watch on her arm. ‘It’s way past six on a Friday night. There won’t be anyone about.’
‘There will be people about if I need them to be,’ he said coldly, ‘and the bare facts will be down on record. The more detailed fill-in will have to wait until I can find out who was in charge of that particular deal.’
‘Look, I’m going.’ She took one step towards the door, but the rigid immobility of the big body in front of her froze her next step. ‘I mean it, I want to go home.’
‘Don’t be so childish.’ The shock of his words brought the angry colour that had just died surging back into her cheeks. ‘I’m just offering you dinner while certain enquiries are made, that’s all. You are most fortunate you aren’t being charged at the local police station on various counts.’
‘But your evening?’ A mental picture of the tall, slim blonde flashed into her mind. ‘You obviously intended to be out tonight and——’
‘It’s a little late to start concerning yourself about my situation, don’t you think?’ he asked smoothly. ‘You can have another sherry while I make a few calls and then we will eat.’
As she opened her mouth to argue the door opened. ‘Mrs Langton.’ Kane Steel smiled at the stout middle-aged woman who stepped into the room, her iron-grey hair tightly drawn back in a severe bun and her stiff black dress looking as though it would retain its shape with or without a body inside it. ‘My plans have changed and I now require dinner for two. Is that possible?’
‘Of course, Mr Steel.’ Mrs Langton smiled formally. ‘In half an hour?’
‘Fine.’ As the woman left with a smile and a nod in Janie’s direction, Janie glared at him angrily.
‘What do I have to do to convince you that I don’t want dinner?’
‘Nothing, I know it already,’ he said imperturbably.
‘Then why?’
‘Because you’ll do as you’re told.’ The statement was clearly a complete answer as far as he was concerned and she stared at him furiously, incensed by his arrogance.
‘You really are the most incredible man,’ she said in tones of deep disgust, her fury escalating as he smiled mockingly, his dark face alive with cruel humour. He was still angry, very angry.
‘You are not the first female to say that,’ he said tauntingly, ‘although I have to admit the circumstances are a first. Normally it is said with more…enthusiasm.’
‘Is it indeed?’ She tried to inject as much scorn and derision into her voice as she could. ‘I was always under the impression that a real man didn’t have to boast about his performance in bed.’
‘Was I talking about bed?’ he asked softly, with satirical coolness, but she noticed her insult had narrowed the ice-blue eyes and straightened his mouth. ‘You know, this business about your father apart, you really are a little shrew, aren’t you? Don’t you like men, Miss Janie Gordon?’
He had remembered her Christian name from the hotel. As she glared back into the rugged face the thought hammered in her brain. In spite of all the chaos and aggravation, he had remembered, and she suddenly knew it was indicative of the man himself. His mind was razor-sharp and as hard as nails; he wouldn’t forget a thing, ever. So why the memory-loss regarding her father’s firm? Did she believe him? Had he been involved with it all? He didn’t seem the type of man to let anything slip through his fingers, least of all the knowledge of the acquisition of a prime block of real estate. He would have known an outline of the situation at least, especially in view of the difficulties involved. He would have had to, surely? And he had recognised the name of the firm.
‘Well?’ As she came back to the present he was still holding her with that rapier-sharp blue gaze.
‘What?’ She had lost the thread of the conversation completely.
‘Men, do you like men?’ He took a step towards her as she tried to concentrate on what he was saying and not her churning thoughts. ‘There’s one way to find out…’ The manner in which he folded her into his arms spoke of an expertise that only registered on Janie much later; at that precise moment she was too busy struggling against his superior strength. She found, to her fury, that she was quite helpless in his embrace. The big body was all muscled power and firm, hard flesh, and she was caught as securely as a tiny fish in a net. This was part of the penance?
As his mouth closed on hers she forced herself to stand still. Her movements were only bringing her more intimately into contact with that hard male frame, besides which resistance was useless and they both knew it. The kiss was firm and warm and sensual and she hated the excited trembling it triggered in all different parts of her body—it was a betrayal to her father and to herself. But she couldn’t help it. The thought weakened her still further. What was it about him? She had never had a kiss affect her like this before.
He moved her closer into him as he allowed one hand to play up and down her back in a soothing, hypnotic rhythm that set fire alarms off all over her body. She should have felt frightened, threatened-she was at his mercy here when all was said and done—but her whole being was coping with the ripples of pleasure that were flowing through her body as he explored the contours of her mouth, his lips gentle and erotic in turn. His mouth was a sweet torture and tormentingly knowing as it wandered over her closed eyelids, her throat, her ears, creating havoc to her nervous system and a warm ache in her lower stomach as it did its devastatingly sensual work.
Then she was free and he brushed his lips lightly over hers once more before stepping back to survey her with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. ‘Very nice.’ His voice was soft and deep but for the life of her she couldn’t say a word as she gazed silently back into the harsh, strong face. ‘Very nice indeed, and now you are going to have another drink and I am going to make some phone calls.’
She was still standing in stunned silence when he left the room seconds later after filling her glass and placing it back on the table near her chair. The swine! Her legs were beginning to shake and she almost collapsed into her seat, her mind whirling, as the click of the door released her from the dazed trance. She didn’t doubt for a minute that the kiss had been intended as a punishment. She groaned out loud into the empty room. She should have shouted at him when he released her, told him exactly what she thought of him, slapped his face——But she’d already done that once tonight. She shut her eyes tightly for a second. This was all a dream—it had to be; nothing else would explain the dizzy stupor his lips had evoked.
She took a big gulp of sherry as she glanced round the magnificent room again, noticing, as she did so, a photograph of two men to one side of the mantelpiece. She rose to take a closer look. It had to be Kane Steel and a brother or cousin—the likeness was uncanny, although the smaller man was of a lighter build and his hair was fairer. Nevertheless the two faces boasted an unmistakable blood tie. It must have been taken years ago, she thought idly as she looked at the much younger Kane smiling back at her. The deep lines that were grooved into his face now and the touches of grey in his hair were missing, along with the rather tense way in which he held himself.
He did look older, she thought suddenly; that was why for a moment she hadn’t been sure if it was him at the hotel. The photograph that had been in her father’s papers had been of a much younger man, too, although admittedly it had been the usual polished pose of a publicity shot and, consequently, remote and unlifelike. She would have to go through those papers again. After the initial tearful sorting she had bundled everything into a big box and stuffed it into a cupboard, and ever since it had been too painful to resurrect.
When he returned, ten minutes later, she was quite composed and poised, at least on the outside. Inside was a seething mass of emotion like a volcano before the lid was blown.
‘Prawn cocktail and steak and salad all right?’ he asked blandly as he entered the room. ‘With fresh peaches in brandy for dessert?’ He eyed her narrowly, his face grim.
‘Fine.’ She nodded jerkily. Get through the next couple of hours the best you can and then you’re free, she told herself silently, and you needn’t ever see him again. Unless it was in court, of course. No doubt the vicious take-over, the ruthless but legal destruction of all that her father had built up for years, would be explained away calmly and logically, with Steel Enterprises coming up smelling of roses. She didn’t know why he was going through this farce, but that was undoubtedly what it was. Corporate giants were totally ruthless and never admitted to being in the wrong. Rule number one. And it had been legal, she reminded herself again. Cruel, wicked, heinous but…legal.
As he seated himself in his chair after pouring another whisky she gestured to the photograph un-smilingly. ‘Your brother?’
‘Yes.’ He followed her gaze. ‘That’s Keith.’
‘He’s younger than you?’ she asked carefully.
‘By four years.’ He took a long draught from his glass and settled back in his chair. ‘That was taken three years ago when we were on holiday in Greece.’
‘Three years?’ She stared at him in surprise. Three years; she would have said at least ten. He read her face accurately.
‘I’m thirty-four years old, Miss Gordon,’ he said tightly, ‘and my brother died last year. Can we leave the subject now?’
‘Of course.’ She nodded quickly as her cheeks burnt hotly. How was she supposed to know his brother was dead? And she would have put Kane Steel at least eight or nine years older, although the lean, hard body was ageless. It was that devastatingly attractive face that had fooled her. What had happened to put those lines round his mouth and eyes? It must have been something catastrophic to have made such a difference in three years? His brother’s death maybe? Or was there something else?
The dinner was excellent, but the huge ornate room in which it was served was daunting, to say the least. When Kane first led her into it she took a deep breath and prayed for aplomb; the massive dark wood dining-table, thick white carpet and cream-textured walls, combined with the heavy velvet drapes in a dark rich burgundy, were grandly intimidating, and it was colossal.
‘Do you always eat in here?’ she asked him quietly as June cleared the dinner-plates from the table preparatory to dessert. The whole meal had been conducted in tight, painful silence.
‘When I have guests.’ He looked at her closely. ‘Don’t you like this room?’
‘Where do you eat when you don’t have guests?’ she prevaricated quickly.
‘In my study,’ he said shortly. ‘In fact I spend most of my time in this house in there. Do you want to eat dessert in the study?’ he asked suddenly.
‘Yes, please,’ she said instantly.
He blinked and looked round the dining-room bewilderedly. ‘What’s wrong with it?’
‘Nothing, it’s beautiful,’ she said quickly, ‘but it’s just so big! Well, let’s face it, it’s gigantic.’