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‘You—you can’t do that! I’ve been a good employee.’
‘You call what you’ve just done being a good employee?’ he demanded. ‘Are you aware that you could land up in court for that deliberate lie you chose to tell the newspapers? I could sue you. You’re quoted, so it’s pretty obvious who gave them the story.’
She went first pale and then red. ‘You—you wouldn’t?’
‘No, I wouldn’t. But I do expect a little co-operation from you. This is your fault, after all.’
‘All right, all right. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!’
Jarrod Stone looked unmoved. ‘Like I said, it isn’t enough.’ He opened the door further. ‘I have an important appointment in five minutes.’
‘Okay, I—– But what do I tell everyone?’ she cried.
‘Oh, tell them I’ve fallen madly in love with you and rushed you off your feet.’
‘Don’t tease—please!’ Her head was downbent.
He wrenched her chin up roughly between thumb and forefinger. ‘I don’t know what the hell else you expect me to do. I can assure you that if I did what I really want to do to you you wouldn’t like that either.’
Brooke was mesmerised by his glittering grey eyes, aware of the darkness of his skin and the tangy aftershave he wore. ‘What do you want to do?’ she asked breathlessly.
His hand fell away and he turned her firmly out of the room. ‘Put you over my knee and give your backside a good thrashing. Just what you hoped to achieve I have no idea. But still, it might prove interesting.’
He silenced her as they entered his secretary’s office, pausing at the door to look down at her with dark brooding eyes. Again he raised her chin, uncaring of the two curious pairs of eyes watching them. ‘I’ll see you later, darling,’ he said, huskily soft, but loud enough for the other two girls to hear. ‘We’ll have lunch at the usual place.’
Before Brooke could answer him his dark head swooped low and his lips fleetingly touched hers. She felt herself tremble in his arms, her eyes wide with surprise. She looked self-consciously at the girls in the room, but they were apparently busily working. She doubted they had been so engrossed a couple of seconds earlier!
Her mouth tightened. ‘Did you have to do that?’ she muttered angrily, her almost violet eyes glaring her dislike of him.
Jarrod laughed throatily. ‘You say the nicest things, Brooke.’
He was obviously still playing to his audience, and she decided to play him at his own game, reaching up to wind her arms about his neck, her lips raised invitingly. ‘Just to last me until lunch-time, darling,’ she coaxed, revelling in the anger displayed in his deep grey eyes. ‘Darling?’ she questioned innocently.
His grip on her arms was quite painful and it took great effort not to cry out. ‘Later, Brooke. Later.’ His words sounded romantic enough, but she knew his words promised something completely different from what they were implying.
She pouted up at him. ‘Oh, Jarrod!’
‘If you don’t behave yourself I’m like to give you that good hiding I promised you,’ he warned her quietly.
‘Oh, Jarrod, how sweet of you to say so,’ she smiled up at him, uncaring of the dangerous look in his eyes. ‘Until later, darling.’
By the time she stepped out of the lift into the reception area the two bright wings of colour in her cheeks seemed to be a permanent fixture. How she was going to get through the next few months she had no idea.
Jean was looking rather harassed by this time, having difficulty managing her switchboard and also dealing with people at the desk. Brooke hadn’t realised she would be so long or she wouldn’t have left her alone. She had expected to be only a few minutes, just long enough to be sacked.
‘What gives?’ Jean asked once the rush had died down and they had a couple of minutes to themselves again. ‘First of all you receive a telephone call that makes you look like death and then you calmly step into the boss’s private lift and disappear for an hour.’
‘I’m sorry I was gone so long, Jean. I didn’t mean to leave you in the lurch like that.’ She shuffled the papers about on her desk, not anxious to answer the real question in Jean’s words.
‘So what’s happened? Is someone you know ill or something?’
‘Er—no.’ She didn’t quite know how to explain what had just happened to her. She certainly couldn’t tell Jean the whole truth, it would be too humiliating. ‘I—er—I seem to have got myself engaged.’
Jean’s eyes brightened with excitement. ‘You do? Who to?’ She frowned. ‘You haven’t mentioned seeing anyone special.’
‘No—well, it seems to have happened all of a sudden. I’ve hardly had time to think.’ Which was true; she certainly hadn’t had time to realise exactly what this bogus engagement was going to mean to her. She did know that she had felt a strange floating sensation at the touch of Jarrod Stone’s lips on her own. And also, to her shame, she had responded! Only momentarily, but it had been a definite response. But she blamed that solely on the suddenness of it, nothing else. She didn’t even like the man now, let alone imagine herself in love with him.
Jean still looked puzzled. ‘But what does it have to do with Jarrod Stone?’
‘Everything,’ she said with feeling.
‘Everything?’ Jean’s frown cleared, to be replaced with a look of amazement. ‘But surely you don’t mean—–’
‘Yes. I’m engaged to Jarrod Stone.’
‘Goodness! But you—you can’t be! I didn’t even realise you were seeing him.’ Jean’s face showed her disbelief.
‘It has been rather sudden. I—–’
‘Excuse me,’ interrupted a husky female voice. ‘I’m looking for Mr Stone’s office.’
Brooke turned to look at the woman, her nostrils twitching sensitively with the deep heavy perfume she wore. This woman was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. She was very tall, her blonde hair shoulder-length and waving provocatively about her face, her eyes a glowing green, her tiny nose uptilted, her pouting mouth painted an inviting scarlet. To Brooke she looked exquisite and she wondered who she could be. Obviously one of Jarrod Stone’s women, of that she felt sure. She looked the type he would go for, about thirtyish and very sophisticated.
‘Mr Stone’s office is on the tenth floor,’ she answered politely. ‘If you would like to take the private lift up I’ll telephone them of your arrival.’
The woman nodded coolly. ‘Thank you, Miss—Brooke Faulkner!’ Her green eyes narrowed as they looked at the gold lettering on the nameplate. ‘You’re Brooke Faulkner?’
Brooke frowned. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, well, well.’ The woman seemed to have regained her composure. ‘Clever old Jarrod,’ she murmured to herself.
‘I beg your pardon?’
The woman gave her a dazzling smile. ‘It isn’t important. So nice to have met you, Brooke, you have helped to explain a lot.’
‘But I didn’t do anything.’ She needn’t have bothered to speak; the woman had already walked away from the desk to enter the lift. How rude of her! ‘Who was that?’ she asked Jean.
Her friend’s eyes widened. ‘You mean you don’t know?’
‘I didn’t get the chance to ask her,’ she said ruefully.
‘You shouldn’t have needed to. That was Selina Howard.’
Brooke gasped, looking after the woman. ‘The wife of the multi-millionaire?’
Jean nodded. ‘The same.’
‘Oh.’ What on earth could a woman like her want with Jarrod Stone? There seemed only one explanation, and yet that didn’t seem at all likely. Charles Howard was even better known than Jarrod Stone, and one of the richest men in the world. He was also a very good-looking man, although being in his late fifties he was much older than his thirty-year-old wife.
Brooke looked up sharply as the woman came back down again half an hour later. She must have been Jarrod Stone’s important appointment, a very beautiful appointment, and it certainly wasn’t a business appointment, of that she was sure. Selina Howard gave her a cool smile before leaving the building.
But the time Jarrod Stone came down in the lift at twelve-thirty Brooke had managed to stir herself up into a very nervous state. But perhaps he just intended for them to look as if they were leaving to go to lunch together, perhaps they would part when they got outside. She hoped so.
She grabbed her leather jacket and handbag from the cloakroom before he came over, smiling nervously at the girl who was taking over for her during her lunch break. Jarrod’s eyes narrowed as she reached his side, but he said nothing about her flushed cheeks and too-bright eyes, merely taking hold of her elbow to guide her out of the door opened for them by the doorman.
Once outside the building his hand dropped away and he turned left towards the shopping centre, leaving Brooke to run to keep up with him, his long strides taking him along much faster than her own.
‘Could you slow down a little?’ she asked breathlessly.
Jarrod turned to look at her as if suddenly becoming aware of her, his pace slackening slightly but still much too fast for her.
‘Where are we going?’ She looked up at him.
His mouth turned back in a sneer. ‘I would have thought it was obvious.’
‘But I—I thought we were going to lunch. It’s mainly shops in this part of town.’
He sighed. ‘One shop in particular.’
‘What shop is that?’
‘A jewellers. There’s a very good one not far from here.’
Again Brooke felt panic rising within her. ‘A jewellers? Whatever for?’
‘My dear girl, if we’re going to be engaged you’re going to need a ring. That’s where we’re going now, to buy you an engagement ring.’
CHAPTER TWO
BROOKE stopped in her tracks, unconcerned when he turned to scowl his impatience. ‘I don’t want an engagement ring,’ she declared.
Jarrod walked back the short distance between them, grasping her arm roughly and pulling her to one side of the pavement. ‘Don’t shout like that in the street!’ he snapped.
She shook off his hand. ‘What else did you expect me to do? You were miles away from me.’
‘Only because you deliberately hung back, behaving hysterically. What on earth is the matter with you? Surely you realise we can’t be engaged without a ring? People will be looking for that, especially this evening.’
‘I don’t want a ring and I don’t want to go out with you this evening. I don’t mind keeping up this pretence at work, but I will not put on a show for all your high-class friends to laugh at!’
His well-shaped mouth tightened angrily. ‘You say the most ridiculous things, do the most ridiculous things. You act far too impetuously, but I put that down to your youth. And my friends will not laugh at you, but they will think it odd if you aren’t wearing my ring. This isn’t something I care to discuss. I’ve already telephoned the jewellers and requested him to get together a selection of rings for you to look at.’ He looked at his wrist-watch. ‘He’s expecting us about now.’
‘I’m sure he’ll wait for the valued customer that you undoubtedly are. I suppose it’s the place you buy all the jewellery for your women,’ she said bitchily, for the moment not bothered by her outspokenness. She had already far overstepped the line as far as this arrogant man was concerned and nothing she said or did now could make matters any worse for her.
‘And if I do? What does that have to do with you?’
The fight went out of her at his coolness. ‘Nothing, I suppose.’
‘You suppose correct. Now, let’s go.’
‘Please!’ Brooke held on to his arm, liking the feel of the expensive material of his suit beneath her fingers. ‘Don’t make me do this.’
Jarrod’s dark head was held at a haughty angle, his grey eyes unyielding. There was no doubt that he was a hard man when crossed. He must terrify his business opponents into retreat; he certainly terrified her. ‘Must I keep reminding you that you started this?’ he drawled.
‘But do you have to take advantage of it?’ Her eyes pleaded with him.
‘Yes. Now that’s the last time we discuss this. From now on you’ll just do as you’re told. And there will be no repeat of your behaviour this morning,’ he added warningly.
They were walking along side by side now, Jarrod at last seeming to realise she had shorter legs than he did. She looked up at him innocently. ‘Did I do something wrong?’ she asked, knowing very well to what he referred.
‘The way you drooled over me was completely unnecessary. I told you I wanted no over show of emotion.’
‘Ooh, I didn’t drool!’ she exclaimed.
‘You gave a very good impression of it.’ His eyes remained fixed ahead.
‘You kissed me first,’ she accused.
‘I admit that, but it was nothing like the provocative act you were putting on.’ He stopped outside an expensive-looking jewellers. ‘I don’t want anything like that in here, just a little natural affection for a new fiancée.’
‘I hate you, Jarrod Stone!’ she said furiously.
He looked down at her with enigmatic eyes, making her aware of just how attractive he was—so tall and commanding, really majestically male, and very, very, handsome. She felt the old familiar flutterings in her stomach. It seemed she wasn’t over her infatuation after all!
‘Let’s just keep it that way, shall we?’ he said softly. ‘I must admit to feeling slightly curious about your motivation for announcing our engagement this morning. At first I imagined it to be a not very subtle form of blackmail, then after reading your file, your age and so forth, I wondered if it might not be infatuation.’
‘Not for this girl,’ Brooke answered quickly. It had been infatuation, but that infatuation had quickly turned to dislike. His contemptuous words had turned her supposed love into a desire for revenge on his mercenary attitude towards women. He was the sort of man women fell for in their hundreds, and he walked away from them all untouched. Well, she had just made sure he hadn’t got away so easily this time!
‘Why so vehement?’ he asked. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time a young girl has imagined herself in love with an older man. Some of these girls have been known to take the initiative when they don’t think they’re achieving their aim fast enough.’
‘Like I said, not this girl,’ she assured him.
‘No, your move was made from pure revenge, wasn’t it, little mouse?’
Brooke knew he was deliberately baiting her and she obstinately refused to let him ruffle her. ‘Can we get this over with? I have to be back in forty minutes.’
His eyes snapped with anger. ‘I thought I told you to get an extended lunch break.’
Brooke pretended an interest in the jewellery window. ‘You did,’ she confirmed disinterestedly.
‘Then why the hell didn’t you?’
She flung back her head, her hair gleaming auburn-brown in the sunlight. ‘I didn’t because I’m not the owner of the firm. I can’t just take two-hour lunch-breaks when I feel in the mood.’
‘You’re engaged to the owner, that amounts to the same thing.’
‘I would have thought that was all the more reason for me not to take advantage of the situation. By the way, there’s a little man bobbing about inside the jewellers. I think he’s looking at us.’
‘No doubt. Well, if you only have forty minutes left I suppose we’d better get inside.’
The jeweller had obviously seen Jarrod Stone numerous times before and Brooke wondered if she had been right in her assumption about this place. That he was a valued customer there could be no doubt, it was there in the exaggerated respect he was receiving.
‘So nice to see you again,’ the jeweller gushed. ‘And to meet your fiancée.’ He smiled at Brooke. ‘I’m so glad you chose our establishment to buy your ring, Miss Faulkner.’
Jarrod gave what Brooke considered to be his first natural smile of the day, at least, in her company. ‘You know you’re the best in town, Green.’
‘So kind of you to say so, sir. And may I say I agree with your decision not to include sapphires in your choice. Miss Faulkner’s eyes are more violet than blue.’
‘Could we see the rings?’ Jarrod requested tersely. ‘We don’t have a lot of time.’ This last comment was obviously meant for Brooke.
She waited until the jeweller had left them alone before making a comment. ‘I didn’t realise you’d even noticed the colour of my eyes.’
‘I didn’t,’ he replied curtly. ‘It was in your file.’
‘Didn’t your secretary think it odd for you to want to read my file?’
‘I don’t pay her to think about my personal life.’
Brooke frowned. ‘I’m sure it didn’t say anywhere in my file that my eyes were violet.’
‘Maybe not. But they are, so let’s not argue about it.’ He straightened as the tray of rings were presented for their inspection.
They were beautiful rings—diamond clusters, solitaires, emeralds and rubies surrounded by sparkling diamonds. And all of them looking as if they would cost a fortune! She felt sure they all would. This was one of those exclusive expensive jewellers that only the very rich frequented. And Jarrod Stone was very rich.
Her eyes glowed as she picked up first one ring and then another, almost afraid to touch them but tempted by their beauty. As she had very long slender hands some of the smaller stones just didn’t look right on her finger, but she chose these rings to try on because she knew they would be the least expensive. Finally she looked up at Jarrod for help. ‘Which one do you like?’ she asked helplessly.
Without hesitation he chose a large diamond set on a thin gold band, sliding it on to her finger before she had time to protest. ‘That’s the one,’ he nodded his approval.
She could tell by the satisfied smile on the jeweller’s face that Jarrod had chosen the most expensive ring on the tray. She tried to pull it off her finger, but Jarrod’s strong brown hand came out to stop her movements.
‘You may as well leave it on,’ he told her. ‘It fits perfectly.’
‘Oh, but I—–’
Mr Green had already picked up the tray containing the other rings and was in the process of locking them away again.
‘No arguments in here, please, Brooke,’ Jarrod warned her out of earshot of the other man.
‘But this ring is much too expensive,’ she protested.
‘Leave that to me. That’s the ring I want you to wear.’
‘But I’ll be frightened of losing it.’ She looked down at it wide-eyed.
‘It will be insured,’ he said uncaringly.
‘Yes, but—–’
‘Leave it, Brooke,’ he ordered as Mr Green came back.
Brooke felt a natural curiosity to know just how much this rock on her finger was going to cost, but she knew it wasn’t expected of her to stay and listen to the money side of the sale, so she wandered over to look in some of the other cabinets, looking at the glittering necklaces inside.
Once outside Jarrod handed her a large square box, ignoring her questioning look. ‘Open it,’ he ordered.
She did so with trembling fingers, crying out her surprise as she saw the contents. Nestling in blue velvet was a large teardrop diamond set on the most delicately fine gold chain she had ever seen, and lying within its circle were a pair of matching earrings. They were really lovely.
She thrust them back at him. I don’t want these.’ She remembered too well what he had said about giving his women jewellery. ‘The ring I’ll wear until I can be free of you, but I don’t have to accept anything else from you.’
‘They’re for you to wear tonight.’ He ignored the proffered box. ‘I want you to look the part.’
‘And a little receptionist like myself isn’t likely to have this sort of jewellery hidden away,’ she sneered.
‘Exactly,’ he agreed cruelly.
‘You’re an arrogant swine, Jarrod Stone. But I’ll wear your diamonds for you—as long as I can return them to you as soon as we’ve left the party.’
‘Don’t be so childish!’
‘Then I won’t wear them. You can’t force me to,’ she declared obstinately.
‘What an obstructive little girl you are! All right, I’ll keep them locked up for you. Now let’s go on to a shop where we can buy you a dress.’
Brooke stiffened. ‘I have my own clothes, thank you.’
‘I’m sure you have, but I want you to have something new.’
‘I have my own clothes,’ she repeated through gritted teeth. As it happened she had exactly the right dress to wear to go out with this sophisticated man, a gown that had been bought for a special occasion that had never taken place. It was an expensive one, bought to impress a boy-friend that she had finished with before the promised evening out. At the time he simply hadn’t measured up to her rather romantic impression of Jarrod Stone. How ironic that she should now wear the dress to go out with Jarrod Stone himself!
‘Do you have to argue about everything?’ he snapped.
‘If it means I hold on to my identity against you—yes!’ she answered defiantly.
‘God, you’re impossible!’ He hailed a passing taxi, bundling her inside before sitting beside her. ‘Before you start a full-scale argument in the street,’ he explained.
‘You’re too dominant, that’s your trouble!’ she snapped.
He began to smile, and finally the smile turned into a genuine laugh. It changed his whole face, not making him appear quite so grim and also making him look younger. Brooke felt her senses stir at the real humour in his deep grey eyes.
‘I’m dominant?’ he chuckled. ‘You seem to be the one organising my life for me at the moment.’ He got out and opened the door for her as they reached the building he owned. ‘I’ll pick you up at eight-thirty this evening.’
‘But you don’t know where I—– Oh yes, my file.’
‘Mm, it has your address in it. Not much else, but it does have that. I’ll see you later.’ He got back into the taxi.
Too late Brooke realised she still had the necklace and earrings in her hand. She would have to keep them with her now, something she hadn’t wanted to do. Her handbag seemed the best place to stow them away, and putting the case at the bottom of what she jokingly called her ‘shoulder suitcase’ she went back to her desk.
She was so conscious of the huge diamond on her finger that for the first half an hour after her return she kept her left hand hidden. Jean soon noticed it, though, exclaiming enthusiastically over its beauty.
‘You still haven’t told me how you come to be in love and engaged to him. Why, only this morning I was insulting him to you, doubting his ability to be passionate if he tried. Now you must know first hand that I was wrong.’
Brooke didn’t know first hand at all, but Jarrod’s lower full sensuous lip didn’t point to him being the cold impassionate machine Jean had implied this morning. And he hadn’t kissed like an amateur, that brief caress evoking a response within her in spite of herself.
‘You were wrong,’ she confirmed, sure that this was so.
Jean smiled dreamily. ‘It’s all like a fairytale, isn’t it? Engaged to be married to the unattainable Jarrod Stone. Lucky old you!’
Yes, lucky old her. She wasn’t thinking that way later that evening as she nervously got herself ready to go to Philip Baylis’s party. If Selina Howard was an example of Jarrod Stone’s friends then there would be some really sophisticated people at this party tonight.
Her dress was a russet coloured silk, bringing out the red lights in her dark brown hair. It clung in soft folds over her breasts and hips, the high roll-neck adding fragility to her swan-like neck, the long sleeves finishing in a point at the wrist. It was a dress that emphasised her slenderness and suited her like no other she had ever possessed.
She had washed her hair and brushed it dry until it gleamed reddish-brown, crackling with health and cleanliness. She had applied a light eye make-up, brushing a soft peach lip gloss over her lips. The earrings and necklace glittered in glowing beauty against the dark material of her gown and she knew she was looking her best.
Jarrod Stone’s dark grey eyes gleamed his approval of her as she let him in to her tiny flat. He was looking particularly attractive tonight, wearing black trousers, a white silk shirt, and a grey velvet jacket that matched the steely grey of his eyes. He carried a large white box under one arm, and Brooke had to admit to feeling curious about its contents.