Bought with his Name
Penny Jordan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THE party was very obviously in full swing when Genista pushed open the door to Greg Hardiman’s flat. She had knocked on it several times, but the noise generated by the party had prevented anyone from hearing her. The living area of the flat seemed to be full of couples smooching around to the sensual strains of the music coming from the hi-fi system, and it was several seconds before Genista could find her host. When she did, he slid an arm round her slender waist, pressing her against him, smiling down into the perfect oval of her face. Her eyebrows rose mockingly and she moved slightly away. Greg had been drinking and retained his grasp of her waist.

‘Well, well, look what the wind blew in,’ he commented, eyeing her assessingly. ‘I didn’t think you were going to be able to make it, sweet. A little bird told me you were planning to work late tonight. Keeps you busy that boss of yours, doesn’t he?’

‘Someone has to earn the profits,’ Genista reminded him dryly.

It was true; she had been going to work late, but Bob’s wife Elaine had rung and asked him if he could go home earlier than planned, and finding herself at a loose end Genista had come to the party. Already she was regretting her decision. She had been away from the office on her annual holiday and had returned to find the place in an uproar.

‘C’mon, I’ll introduce you around,’ Greg told her, interrupting her chain of thought. ‘It isn’t often you grace our humble efforts at entertaining with your presence. Pity I’m leaving for the States at the end of the week. I’ve always fancied you, Gen; wondered what goes on behind those cool “keep your distance” barricades. I don’t suppose you feel like staying on when the others have gone?’

Genista had heard the same question too often before to feel shocked or angry. What was it about men that made them calmly assume that any woman who wasn’t attached and over twenty-one must automatically want to jump in and out of their beds? She had been putting men like Greg down for nearly four years, but still they had the arrogance to think all they had to do was smile and pay a few meaningless compliments for a girl to be ready to sleep with them.

She moved away, refusing Greg’s offer to introduce her around. She knew most of the people present. Like her, they worked for Computerstore, a small firm pioneering and selling advanced computer softwear to industry and commerce. Genista had been with them for four years—ever since she had come to London, in fact, and she thoroughly enjoyed her job as personal assistant to the firm’s Liaison Manager, or at least she had done up until now. A small frown furrowed her brow as she remembered the the news which had awaited her return from Greece. Computerstore had been taken over by a large organisation, and there were fears within the firm that jobs would be lost; parent company men brought in over the heads of existing staff; people made redundant. Bob Norman, her own boss had worn a perpetual frown all week. Genista bit her lip. She was very fond of Bob. She liked working for him very much. They made a good team, and although she had taught herself not to be emotional about other people she knew it would be hard for her to work as well with someone else.

Collecting a drink from the makeshift bar, she leaned against the wall, watching the antics of her fellow-guests with a certain sardonic appreciation. If she was any judge, a couple of promising affairs would result from the forced hothouse atmosphere of tonight’s party; her lip curled faintly, although she was unaware of it. She was by far the most attractive woman in the room. Tall, slenderly elegant, her dark red hair curling on to her shoulders, her features almost classically sculptured. It was several seconds before her antennae warned her that she was being watched. She didn’t make the mistake of looking straight away to see who was watching her, but instead let her eyes drift casually across the room.

He was leaning against the opposite wall, and lifted his glass to her, in a salute which was partially appreciative and wholly arrogant. With a sense of mingled distaste and anger Genista realised that he expected her to make her way across to him. He was, she recognised, a man to whom women would always run. Well, not this one. He was easily the most striking man in the room. Even slouched against the wall his body held an element of leashed power more suggestive of the jungle than a small London flat. He was dressed quite casually in black cord jeans and a black cotton shirt, his thick dark hair brushing the collar of his shirt at the back.

He must be in his thirties, Genista mused; far too much aware of his sensual impact on susceptible females. He moved, easing his weight from one leg to the other, the action tautening the powerful thigh muscles beneath the cord. He was watching her with hooded eyes. A pretty, dizzy young blonde from the typing pool walked past him, eyeing him provocatively. Silly little fool, Genista thought pityingly. Couldn’t she see he was way, way out of her league, and if she played with him, she would be badly hurt?

It did not occur to her to wonder who he was. She felt no curiosity about his identity. She felt no sense of pleasure because she had caught his eye. She could read what was in his mind as easily as if it were an open book. Had she responded to that look he would have dated her a few times, and would no doubt have expected to be repaid by sharing her bed, and then when he grew tired of her she would be quickly ditched while he moved on to the next conquest. She watched the pretty blonde typist trying desperately to catch his attention; he knew what the silly little thing was doing, and although he acknowledged her efforts with a faintly bored smile he made no attempt to spare the girl the humiliation which would undoubtedly be hers in the cold sober light of morning. He looked across at Genista once again, and in that look she read everything she most disliked about his type of man; an arrogant assurance that she was his for the taking, and all at once she was filled with a desire to show him exactly how wrong he was. As she smiled secretly and provocatively into her half empty glass, knowing he thought the smile was for him, she made up her mind that before the evening was over she would humiliate him to such an extent that he would never look at any woman in quite such an arrogantly certain way again.

She turned her back on him, walking casually towards the window, to stand and stare out across the city. She was more simply dressed than the majority of the female guests, having come straight from the office, but the black top and silky wrap-round black and white patterned skirt she was wearing emphasised the tan she had got on Ionis. She loved the Greek islands, and Ionis most of all; hardly anyone went there. The beaches were small, and very private. She knew that the other girls in the office thought she was odd because she chose to take her holidays where she was unlikely to run into any men. She was staring up at the stars when she felt the hand on her arm.

‘Full of dangerous allure, aren’t they? So tan-talisingly out of reach, drawing man to his doom, perhaps, like moths to the flame.’

She had seen his reflection in the glass as he came towards her, and now they were mirrored side by side, his height and breadth dwarfing her.

‘You’re an astronomer?’ Her amethyst eyes betrayed nothing, but she allowed a hint of amused disbelief to colour the words. How easy it was to deceive men into seeing in a woman only what they wanted to see! She could tell that he thought she was flirting with him. How little he knew!

‘Let’s just say that while I’m attracted to dangerous and alluring things, I prefer them to be a little more within reach …’

His eyes were on her when he spoke, and although Genista smiled, inwardly she was thinking cynically, ‘I’ll bet! And I’ll bet you don’t like reaching very far for what you want either. Well, this time, my friend, while your greedy hands are stretching for the apple your feet will be taking you into quicksand.’

‘Are you here on your own?’

He certainly believed in being direct, his eyes were on her ringless fingers, and Genista raised her eyebrows and smiled.

‘If I’m not?’

He smiled, and for the first time Genista realised that his mouth was faintly cruel, turning down slightly at the corners; the mouth of a man who was unlikely to feel compassion for the weak.

‘Then he’s a fool for leaving something as beautiful as you on your own. And his loss is my gain!’

Genista had to bite hard on her tongue to prevent herself from commenting sharply on that ‘something’, but of course it was typical. He was obviously that type. His attitude was no more than she had expected. Hadn’t she learned young that the male sex considered any girl attractive enough to warrant a second look fair game? Was he married? Somehow she did not think so. He didn’t look married, although she admitted wryly that that was an irrational judgement. However, it would do no harm to make sure.

‘And you?’ she asked softly. ‘Are you … alone?’

‘Alone and unencumbered,’ he confirmed, taking her arm. His fingers were hard and warm, curling round the tanned flesh of her upper arm. Despite her red hair she tanned well, and her skin had the colour and texture of a sun-ripened peach.

‘Would you like to dance?’

She was going to refuse when she saw Greg heading for them. He had been making his desire for her very plain recently. She thought she had successfuly disguised her reactions from her companion when she allowed him to draw her into the dancers, but he surprised her by commenting urbanely as his arms slid round her waist.

‘An ex-admirer?’

‘More of a nuisance, really,’ Genista, too surprised by his perception to contemplate lying, realising her mistake, when his eyebrows drew together slightly. How typical, was her annoyed reaction. No doubt he thought she had covertly encouraged Greg’s attentions, secretly enjoying them. Men seemed to find it impossible to accept that a woman might not be interested in them. Well, he would learn.

‘Relax!’

She hadn’t realised how tense she had become, until his fingers stroked lightly along her spine. The action caught her off guard and she shivered with revulsion, thick, dark lashes masking her amethyst eyes.

Her companion had obviously taken her shudder for one of delight, for he pressed her closer to him so that her breasts were crushed against the black cotton shirt. She tried to move away, but his hands were spread out against her back. She could feel the warmth through her thin top.

‘How about introducing ourselves? My name’s Luke Ferguson. And yours?’

‘Genista,’ she told him briefly. She hated telling people too much about herself. It made them curious and they started to pry. It was a legacy from her schooldays when the other children had been inquisitive about her lack of a father. There was no slur on illegitimacy these days, but the old scars still ached.

‘Genista! Pretty and unusual. Like its owner.’

‘You find me unusual?’ She was back on safer ground now—the accepted give and take of flirtation.

‘You’re right,’ her companion drawled, pulling her closer. ‘Pretty is too tepid a description. You’re an extremely beautiful woman, Genista, and I don’t want to spend the rest of the evening sharing you.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

Several people were watching them; in fact they had been the centre of a good deal of covert speculation as soon as they started to dance together. Genista could see Greg glowering at them from the kitchen door. She, personally had few doubts about what Luke had in mind; the same thing her father had had when he met her mother and Richard when…. But no, she was not going to think about Richard now. She would let her companion dig his own grave and then she would derive immense pleasure from watching him fall into it.

‘If I told you, you’d probably have me certified. I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’ The hooded eyes were gleaming with a warmth which made Genista grateful for the fact that they weren’t alone. Luke Ferguson was no callow boy, but a sophisticated male animal—and it showed.

‘And for that I should have you locked up?’ The verbal sparring was merely a prelude to the real purpose of the evening and she felt a tiny frisson of fear run down her spine when she saw the look in Luke’s eyes. The desire burning there was real enough; too real, and just for a second, before dismissing the thought as pure imagination, she wondered if she had set a match to a fire she would be unable to control.

When the music stopped he released her reluctantly, and Genista let him slide his arm around her shoulders to pull her close to him as they left the floor. She was behaving in a way which was totally out of character, but he did not know that. No doubt he was used to women acquiescing eagerly to his every suggestion. She was only surprised that he hadn’t already insisted that they went back to his flat. He was in for a rude—and very public—shock when he did, she told herself grimly. His eyes, which had seemed almost black across the width of the room were, in reality, very dark grey, ringed with a slightly paler grey, and the desire she could see smouldering in their depths seemed to be his only vulnerability.

Greg came over to them, his arm draped round the blonde typist Genista had seen watching Luke earlier. Greg’s eyes were faintly bloodshot and Genista guessed that he had had too much to drink.

‘Well, well,’ he drawled. ‘What’s all this? Has our ice maiden melted at last? You are a lucky man, Luke. Genista is one very choosy lady.’

‘You’ve had too much to drink, Greg,’ Luke told him evenly. ‘Why don’t you take him away and make him a cup of black coffee?’ he suggested to the blonde.

Quite a few people were watching them discreetly. Genista had been wondering how she would deliver the body blow which would deflate for all time Luke Ferguson’s inflated ego, and all at once she knew. He turned to her, his fingers trailing down her cheek in a caress which parodied tenderness, the desire burning in his eyes plain for all to see.

‘If you’re ready to leave?’

He really was an excellent actor, she marvelled. His voice had held just the merest suspicion of a faint tremor, as though he were having great difficulty in controlling his overwhelming desire to be alone with her; as though he actually felt more for her than merely a fleeting need to assuage a momentary desire and reaffirm his belief in his irresistibility to her sex.

‘Leave? With you?’ She arched her eyebrows and managed a cool trill of laughter. ‘My dear man, you’ve been entertaining company, but not that entertaining. I expect far more from a man than that before I allow him to take me anywhere.’ She turned her back on him, and smiled at Greg. ‘Be a darling, Greg, and get me another drink, will you?’ He was too drunk to argue. Well aware that everyone was watching them, Genista turned back to Luke, almost as though the gesture were an afterthought, her expression mockingly bland as she suggested, ‘If you’re lonely why don’t you ask Mary to go with you? You’d love Luke to take you home, wouldn’t you, Mary?’

The blonde girl glowered angrily at her, ignoring Luke, as she tossed her head disdainfully.

‘I’m not so short of a man that I need your cast-offs, thank you!’

Her departing flounce was rather spoiled by a slight wobble as she turned on excessively high heels, but otherwise her performance could not have been bettered had Genista written her script personally.

Luke was watching her with eyes that were suddenly smouldering like a volcano on the point of eruption, but Genista ignored the warning signs to say sweetly, ‘Still here? Can’t you take a hint?’

‘That’s what I thought I’d been doing ever since you walked in here,’ he snarled back at her, all the earlier traces of pseudo-tenderness gone. ‘You’ve been leading me on all evening, and now you turn me down flat. I want to know why, Genista.’

She hadn’t been expecting this. She had thought that her refusal to leave with him would have been enough to make him disappear without another word.

‘You do?’ Somehow she managed to appear calm. ‘Oh dear! I do so hate hurting people’s feelings. You’re a very attractive man, Luke,’ she added sweetly, ‘but you’re just not my type.’ She looked him up and down assessingly, a little surprised at her own ability to slip so easily into her new role. It was obviously true that there was a little of the actress in all women, although she seriously doubted her ability to give a repeat performance. Already her legs were beginning to feel distinctly shaky. There was something about the menacingly silent way in which Luke was regarding her that made her wonder if she might not have been wiser merely to have been satisfied with her initial success at putting him down, without trying to add any further gilding, but it was too late for second thoughts now. She had gone too far for those!

‘Oh?’ The solitary word was ominously quiet. ‘When did you discover that fact? When I didn’t accompany my offer to take you home with the promise of something more tangible if you spent the night with me?’

It was by a supreme effort of will that she prevented herself from hitting him. The cynical gleam in the charcoal grey eyes made the blood rush to her cheeks, but from somewhere she found the self-control to clench her hands into two small fists and say icily, ‘There isn’t enough money in the world to compensate me for having to endure a night in your bed. I can’t think of anything that would fill me with more revulsion.’

‘No?’ Luke’s voice had gone thick with rage. ‘Then you’re short of both imagination and memory. You were all but inviting me to make love to you there and then when we were dancing. If that was revulsion you felt you’ve got a damned funny way of showing it!’

When she didn’t say anything his eyes suddenly darkened suspiciously, his fingers biting into her wrist as he grasped it, hauling her against him. ‘You set me up, didn’t you?’ he demanded harshly. ‘You deliberately led me on, fully intending to humiliate me, didn’t you, you little bitch! God, you must be sick!’

Their onlookers had lost interest in them now and were drifting away. No doubt they thought Luke was still pleading with her to go with him, Genista thought wryly, nursing her aching wrist, when he turned without another word as he headed towards the door, leaving her standing alone.

‘Phew, you were taking a bit of a risk, weren’t you?’ Jilly Holmes, Greg’s secretary commented to Genista ten minutes later when Luke had gone.

Genista liked Jilly, they got on well together. She wrinkled her nose and shrugged. ‘Serves him right. He shouldn’t go round expecting females to fall at his feet with delight just because he deigns to smile at them.’

‘You weren’t exactly discouraging him, love,’ Jilly pointed out mildly. ‘In fact you were positively leading him on, and he didn’t strike me as the type of man to take very kindly to the way you humiliated him. It was a bit much, wasn’t it, Gen?’

‘What are you trying to do? Stir up my non-existent conscience? I’m telling you, Jilly, he got exactly what he was asking for, supercilious brute!’

‘Oh, come on. He was rather gorgeous. I wish he’d been looking at me the way he was looking at you. You had me convinced, you know. When the pair of you were dancing together, I thought the impossible had happened and you’d actually found a man you could like. You know, love, you were lucky he didn’t get nasty with you. You were really giving him the green light.’

‘Stop feeling sorry for him,’ shrugged Genista. ‘All I did was bruise his ego. You can’t be foolish enough to think he cared about me. We’d only just met! All he wanted to do was get me into bed.’

‘Don’t be so sure. Haven’t you ever heard of love at first sight?’

‘Often, but not from anyone who’s ever experienced it. Look, I think it’s time I went. I don’t know why I came really.’

‘Umm,’ mused Jilly. ‘Well, you can’t act the hermit all your life. I know you like to pretend that you’re quite happy in your solitude, but there must be times when you feel …’

‘A longing for a home and family?’ Genista interrupted briskly. ‘Never! Happy families are a myth, that’s all. Say goodbye to Greg for me, will you, Jilly. I’m going now.’

‘And you’re going to walk, I suppose, all on your own through the streets of London at this hour of the night. You must be mad!’

‘It’s only a short walk—quite safe. Don’t fuss. After all, I’m probably in far less danger walking home alone than I would have been if I’d accepted a lift from Luke.’

‘Umm, but that type of danger I could get to enjoy,’ Jilly drooled unrepentantly, but her eyes were clouded as she watched Genista go. There had been a look in Luke Ferguson’s eyes when he left the party that made her feel uneasy for her friend.

Genista, oblivious to Jilly’s concerned thoughts, collected her jacket from the bedroom where the coats had been left, adroitly fending off an amorous pass from one of the more junior members of the staff, as she reached past him to open the door. The night air felt cold, the street below the flat was deserted, and for a moment she considered going back inside and calling a taxi. The knowledge that it might be quite a while before she could get one made up her mind for her. It would only take her fifteen minutes or so to walk home. She had never felt at any risk in London before, it was silly to do so now just because of what Jilly had said.

Poor Jilly! She had obviously been quite smitten with Luke Ferguson. Genista shrugged. He deserved everything he had got. Disconcertingly she remembered the pressure of his hands on her back when they danced. He had held her close, making her feel every movement of his body as they swayed to the music, and knowing that apparent capitulation then would make her revenge seem all the sweeter, she had not objected to the way he had held her. She bit her lip, unconsciously worrying at it as she stepped outside. The street was deserted. Turning right, she walked briskly away from Greg’s flat, her mind on the possible repercussions of the takeover of Computerstore and its effect on her. She had no real need to work for a living, but she enjoyed her job and would not wish to lose it.

She had walked several yards before she became aware of the soft purr of a car engine behind her. At first it did not alarm her; all the old houses along this road had been converted into flats, and the sound of a car slowing to a halt was nothing to get frightened about. Only the car wasn’t stopping. It was crawling slowly and purposefully along behind her, keeping pace with her, the long, shiny bonnet just visible out of the corner of her eye.

Automatically she started to walk faster. Her mouth had gone terribly dry, fear tying her stomach into tight knots. Her heart was pounding, her legs trembling, as she prayed for a policeman to materialise and frighten off her pursuer. She had heard about girls being followed like this by men in cars, but it had never happened to her before.

She refused to glance at the car, or be panicked into any foolish action, and yet as the driver menacingly kept pace with her she found her eyes flickering nervously towards it, her heart coming into her mouth as she recognised the hardly handsome profile of the driver. Luke Ferguson! He must have waited outside the flat until she left. Instead of reassuring her the knowledge of his identity increased her fear. She had never doubted that her behaviour had made him furious—that had been more than evident, and in view of his own arrogant attitude she had considered her actions completely justified, but now she was beginning to wonder how much she had underestimated him. He was following her to punish her; probably hoping to panic her into an ignominious flight which would be brought to an abrupt halt when it was outstripped by the powerful car he was driving. Up ahead of her an alleyway loomed, and with a feeling of relief she remembered that it led to a small square from which she could quite easily walk to her own apartment block. The alleyway was only a footpath; Luke could not follow her up it, and she hurried into it with a feeling of thankfulness, almost welcoming the darkness which swallowed her up as she stepped off the main road.

At first she was too relieved to have escaped to be aware of the soft footsteps shadowing the tapping of her high heels, and it was only some sixth sense that made her hesitate, nerves stretched like taut wire as her ears and eyes searched the darkness—no longer protective, but terrifyingly alien, masking all manner of danger. Nothing moved. She must have been imagining those faint sounds, Genista told herself. She turned, her sharp cry of protest cut off as strong fingers circled her throat.

‘So you thought you’d eluded me, and now instead you find you’ve run straight into a trap’ Luke jeered in a whisper. ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to harm you—much as I’d like to squeeze this soft throat of yours until you’re begging me for mercy. Surely you didn’t think I’d let you get away with humiliating me so easily?’

His grip of her throat prevented Genista from replying. Terror had given way to anger, and she struggled wildly, trying to free herself from the steel-like arm he had flung round her waist, pulling her back against him.

‘When I walked in that room tonight and saw you, I thought I was seeing a dream. Your beauty caught me by the throat; there seemed to be an instant rapport between us, or so I thought. But I was wrong, wasn’t I, Genista? All you saw was another man to build up and then let down. I’ve heard about women like you who get their kicks from that sort of thing.’

His grip on her throat had relaxed sufficiently for her to speak, her eyes mirroring her contempt as she stared up at him.

‘Instant rapport?’ Scorn laced the words. ‘Oh, come on. You can’t expect me to believe that? I wasn’t born yesterday, Luke. I know what men like you are looking for when they look at a woman. Someone who’s accommodating in bed; someone who won’t make a fuss when she’s tossed aside to make room for the next in line. A little divertissement; a means of passing the time. You looked at me like a man who was trying to work out how long it would take you to get me into bed. Your vanity is so enormous that it never even occurred to you that I might not want to be there. You wanted me and that was enough. You deserved everything you got from me, Luke, so don’t expect me to apologise. After all, I wasn’t doing anything to you that you haven’t probably already done to many, many women.’

‘Is that a fact?’ She could feel his body tighten with tension. ‘I never argue with a lady.’ He emphasised the last word, and Genista could feel the tightly leashed anger emanating from him—anger which he had no right to feel, she reminded herself. ‘And contrary to what you seem to think, I’ve never gone in for physically humiliating them—until tonight.’

Before she could unravel the meaning hidden in the words he had spun her round, his arms locking tightly round her so that the palms of her hands were pressed against the hard warmth of his chest. He wasn’t wearing a jacket and she could feel the crispness of his body hair beneath the thin cotton. Her mouth was dry with apprehension, perspiration breaking out over her body in a heated wave, despite the coolness of the evening.

‘Let me go!’ The words were betrayingly unsteady, and she knew from the satirical gleam of the cold grey eyes that she had not been able to hide her fear from him.

‘This is for my own satisfaction,’ Luke told her, as his head descended with slow deliberation. ‘It’s a pity no one else can witness it, but until I can find a way of getting public satisfaction for what you did to me tonight, it will have to do.’

What followed was like something out of a nightmare. His lips were cool; deceptively gentle at first, moving lightly against the numbed flesh of her own. Luke’s weight bore her backwards, until she was leaning over his arm, her body vulnerably exposed to his eyes and hands—a situation of which he took full advantage as his free hand moved leisurely over her body, stopping nerve-rackingly just below the full curve of her breast, where her heart was beating like a trapped bird. It was a long time since a man had touched her so intimately. Richard had been the only one to do so—fumbled, uneasy caresses, nothing like the assured, knowledgeable touch of this man, who seemed to know instinctively the moment when her cool control would give way to deep shudders, which he mercilessly exploited, his hand sliding under the thin stuff of her top, pushing aside her bra to stroke her nipple roughly with his thumb.

When her mouth parted in shocked protest, his hardened over it, his kiss callously enforcing his superior strength. Bitter resentment filled Genista. What he was doing was tantamount to assault, and there was nothing she could do about it. The harsh pressure of his mouth was bruising the tender flesh of her lips, forcing them back against her teeth, with relentless, grinding pressure, his hand on her breast eliciting a response that shocked and humiliated. Since Richard no man had ever aroused her sexually; Richard she had loved and even with him she had been shy and reserved, and yet here was this contemptuous stranger, teaching her that her body was capable of a treachery she had never dreamed existed, because, despite her own horror and abhorrence, physically she had responded to him, and they both knew it.

When he released her, satisfaction gleamed in the steel-grey depths of his eyes, and childishly Genista rubbed the back of her hand against her mouth as though by doing so she could obliterate the memory of his touch. Where his hand had touched her breast it seemed to throb with an aroused awareness which awakened some deeply primitive core she had not known she possessed.

‘My place or yours?’

The crude question brought her abruptly back to reality.

‘Neither,’ she said coldly. ‘I meant what I said, Luke. I don’t want you.’

‘But I want you,’ he said silkily, ‘and you seem to have forgotton that this time I have the upper hand. You aren’t surrounded by your friends this time, Genista. We’re all alone here and there’s no one to stop me forcing you into my car and taking you back to my apartment—and I will do if I have to, make no mistake about that.’

‘You’d force me, merely to appease your masculine pride?’ A little of her disgust must have showed in her voice, because for a second she saw something flicker in his eyes, and then they hardened.

‘Why not? It might be quite an experience.’

‘Meaning you don’t normally have to use force, I suppose?’ she said bitterly. She was feeling badly frightened, but she wasn’t going to let it show.

‘Not normally,’ Luke agreed urbanely, but there was a tightening of his mouth that warned her that he was annoyed. ‘As I say, it might be quite an experience—for me. I doubt if you would enjoy it very much. Not even an experienced woman enjoys being raped.’

Raped? Genista stared at him.

‘I’ll report you to the police,’ she said unsteadily. ‘Rape is a criminal offence. You’ll be thrown into prison …’

‘No way,’ Luke told her cruelly, shaking his head. ‘Do you think after the way you were behaving at the party that any jury would believe you weren’t willing?—and I’d make sure they knew all about it. You were leading me on. How old are you? Twenty-four? Twenty-three? Old enough to have had several previous lovers. That never goes down well in court.’

It was a nightmare, Genista thought unsteadily. This simple could not be happening, but it was, and if she didn’t go with Luke willingly now she was quite sure that he would put his threats to good effect. Rape! The word shivered horrifyingly through her. Several previous lovers, Luke had said. She bit back a hysterical laugh. She hadn’t even had one—Richard had seen to that! She took a deep breath, her mind working overtime as she tried to find a means of escape. She could always run, but Luke would soon overtake her. Her brief contact with his body had shown her that he was lean and well muscled, more than a match for her!

‘Well?’

‘I’ll come with you.’ She took a deep breath and tried to relax her tensed muscles. ‘But it must be my flat.’

She could feel him looking at her, trying to read her mind. She held her breath, hoping he could not guess what she had in mind.

‘Very well,’ he agreed slowly. ‘Give me your doorkey. As a sign of good faith,’ he mocked. ‘I’m not having any doors slammed in my face this time, Genista, either metaphorically or actually.’

With shaking hands she opened her bag and removed her key. He took it in silence, his fingers biting painfully into her arm as he led the way back to his car.

It was a sleek dark red Maserati. Luke was obviously not short of money, Genista reflected as he opened the passenger door and waited until she was seated before closing it.

‘Don’t bother trying to open the door. I’ve locked it,’ he told her sardonically, before walking round the car and sliding in beside her.

The confining interior of the car heightened her feeling of alarm. The upholstery was cream hide, the smell mingling with the sharply masculine fragrance of Luke’s cologne. It was a masculine car, driven by a very masculine man, she thought, watching him change gear smoothly. The lights changed and they moved off with a smooth roar.

‘Where do you live?’

She gave him directions automatically. If she hesitated and he took her to his own flat she dared not think of the consequences. What had started out as a simple exercise to show him that he simply could not have whatever he wanted, just because he wanted it, had turned into a nightmare of alarming proportions. The revenge Luke wanted to mete out in payment for the way she had humiliated him was something she could not endure, and would not have to endure if she was lucky. The hands resting lightly in her lap tensed, and she crossed her fingers childishly, uttering a silent prayer that the commissionaire of her apartment block would be in the foyer when they drove up.

She felt rather than saw the way Luke’s eyebrows rose when she indicated that he should stop. The apartments had their own underground car park, but she wasn’t going to direct him into that. Instead she let him pull up outside the discreetly expensive block, waiting passively for him to help her out of the car.

‘You live here?’

The sharp enquiry heightened her fear.

‘Yes.’ She had bought her apartment when she first came to London. In many ways it had been a mistake, because the other occupants were mainly middle-aged couples, and apart from the occasional ‘Good morning’ or comments about the weather they had not exchanged any conversation.

The foyer was brightly lit from within, George sitting solidly behind his desk, and Genista felt a little of the tension drain out of her. He recognised her straight away, and started to smile as she walked in. Taking her courage in both hands, Genista turned to Luke, a false smile pinned to her lips.

‘Thank you so much for a wonderful evening,’ she told him, hoping that her voice did not sound as artificial to George as it did to her. ‘I’ll say goodnight now.’

For a moment she thought he was going to force a showdown. She could feel George watching them, and wondered feverishly if she should have pretended that he was accosting her in some way, and then just when she felt sure that her gamble had not paid off, she heard him say smoothly,

‘Goodnight, Genista.’ His hand slid from her arm to her wrist, lifting her fingers to his lips and touching them with a panache that was making George goggle. ‘You must think of our parting not as an end, but as a beginning.’

Genista could tell that George thought he was witnessing the tender beginning of a love affair, but beneath the lightly drawled words and the soft look she sensed an implied threat. Luke was warning her that he still intended to have his revenge!

Only when she was quite sure that the Maserati had pulled away did she turn towards the commissionaire, her voice shaky with released tension.

‘George, I seem to have misplaced my key,’ she told him. ‘Would you be an angel and let me in? I think I’d better have the lock changed as well. You can’t be too careful these days.’

‘I’ll see to it myself tomorrow, miss, if you like,’ George offered. ‘I’ll just lock the main doors and then I’ll come up with you and open your door for you.’

He’d always had a soft spot for her, right from the first day she moved into Mallory Court, he told his wife later. There was something about her. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful. She made him feel all protective-like somehow. High time she got herself a boy-friend, he added, and by the looks of it the one she’d now found herself was doing alright for himself. Fast, powerful sports car …

Unware that she was the main topic of conversation in the commissionaire’s flat, Genista prepared for bed. There were faint bruises on her throat, and she touched them lightly, shuddering. Jilly had warned her that Luke could be dangerous and she had laughed at her. She wasn’t laughing now, and she was only thankful that it was extremely unlikely that she would ever see Luke Ferguson again. First thing tomorrow she must remind George about changing her lock. When his anger cooled she doubted that Luke would pursue her any further, but she wouldn’t be able to sleep in her bed at night knowing he had a key to her apartment. Her hand crept towards her breast. The flesh still tingled from his touch, emotions she had not experienced for years rushed through her, and she was remembering Richard. Luke … Richard … her father … they were all the same. All men were the same; she turned her face into her pillow and allowed the frightened tears she had been bottling up from the moment Luke kissed her with such merciless contempt to flow freely at last.

CHAPTER TWO

GENISTA overslept—an almost unprecedented occurrence, and as she struggled to make her way to work through the crowded underground rightly or wrongly she blamed Luke Ferguson. He was the reason she had lain awake half the night, tormented by all manner of strange emotions. Forget the man, she told herself, stopping in her tracks so suddenly that the man walking behind her bumped into her, as she remembered that she had not seen George again about changing her locks. She bit her lip. She would have to try and ring through from the office. She didn’t think Luke would try to use her key. He had struck her as a man of too much pride to attempt to see her again—unless his desire for revenge still burned as fiercely as it had done last night. She was being over-imaginative again, she told herself. It was over.

Bob was already seated at his desk when she walked in, his head bent over some papers. Computerstore was only a small concern; everyone worked together in one large office, except the owner and Managing Director, Brian Hargreaves, who was usually out somewhere selling the company’s services. Since the news of their takeover had broken no one had seen Brian, although there were rumours that he had been offered a position on the board of their new owners. If that was the case they would need two new staff members; someone to replace Brian and someone to replace Greg, who had left the firm to take up a job in the States. Greg’s loss did not particularly worry Genista. She could tolerate Greg, but she knew that beneath his surface charm lurked a particularly malicious streak which had often manifested itself in the manner in which he took her refusals to go out with him.

‘Hello there! You’re late!’

Jilly breezed into the office behind Genista, sighing enviously over Genista’s pale lilac and cream separates. ‘You always have such lovely clothes,’ she complained. Jilly and her fiancé were saving up to get married and consequently there was very little money to spare for new clothes. Genista had bought her outfit from Jaeger—one of the benefits of having private means, she reflected wryly. No one could have been more surprised than Genista herself when, six months after the death of her parents in a landslide in the tiny Alpine village where they were spending their ‘second honeymoon’, she had received a letter from a firm of solicitors in Australia informing her that she was the sole beneficiary under the will of her mother’s uncle. Genista had vague recollections of her mother talking about an uncle who had left England in disgrace, but she had never dreamed that he had built up a vast sheep station in the Australian Outback, which had been sold to his partner on his death, with the proceeds going to Genista as his only surviving relative. The money would keep her in modest luxury for the rest of her life, carefully invested, but she could not envisage life as a lady of leisure, so she had come to London, bought her apartment and set about finding herself a job which would fill the huge gap the death of her parents had left in her life.

‘Hey, come back! Where were you? Having second thoughts about last night?’ Jilly teased. ‘So would I in your shoes. He was gorgeous—and very plainly fell hard for you. When he walked into the room and saw you he was almost transfixed—just like something out of the movies!’

Jilly was making her feel uncomfortable.

‘It wasn’t at all like that,’ she protested. ‘You’re seeing things through rose-coloured glasses. All he wanted to do was go to bed with me. That’s all men like him ever want.’

‘If you believe that then you’re the one with eye trouble—like you’re wearing blinkers,’ Jilly retorted spiritedly. ‘Honestly, Gen, I sometimes don’t think you’re for real! The most gorgeous male I’ve ever seen in my life walks into a party, takes one look at you and gives a pretty fair impression of a man who’s met the love of his life, and all you can do is say that he wanted to go to bed with you. You haven’t the faintest idea! If that was all he wanted, why didn’t he accept the invitation Mary was offering so blatantly?’

‘Perhaps he prefers redheads,’ Genista said flippantly. Jilly was being absurd. People in love were notorious for it. So she thought Luke had fallen for her, did she? She hadn’t noticed!

‘Who was he anyway?’ Jilly asked. ‘I’ve never seen him around before, have you, and most of the others were the usual crowd.’

‘I’ve no idea,’ Genista admitted. ‘We didn’t get as far as exchanging life stories.’ She had no intention of telling Jilly what had happened after she had left the party; Jilly’s questions awakened her own curiosity. Luke had come to the party alone, and had plainly not known many of the other guests. If it hadn’t been for his air of arrogant command, and the powerfully expensive Maserati he had driven she might have put him down as one of Greg’s ex-university friends; or someone who lived in the same block, but now that she thought about it, there had been an air of aloofness about Luke; a sort of aloneness, which didn’t tie in with his being one of Greg’s gregarious friends.

‘I don’t suppose you exchanged phone numbers?’ Jilly pressed wistfully, plainly convinced that her friend ought to have encouraged Luke’s attentions.

‘No.’ Genista purposefully made the word sound final, although a tiny part of her mind wondered what Jilly would have said had she told her that Luke did have her key.

‘Join me for lunch?’ Jilly questioned.

‘I’ll try. We might have to work through. Bob wanted to work late last night, but he had to go home.’ A small frown furrowed Genista’s forehead. She glanced across to where Bob Norman was still bent over his papers. He hadn’t seemed his normal calm self after he had spoken to his wife the previous evening, and Genista hoped there was nothing wrong at home. Elaine was a charming person, although very much lacking in self-confidence. She and Bob had one son who attended a small public school, and privately Genista thought it was wrong that Elaine should live so much through her husband and son, although of course it was none of her business.

Bob smiled at Genista when she sat down at her own desk.

‘Sorry I’m late. I overslept, and then Jilly collared me to chat about last night’s party,’ she apologised.

‘So I saw,’ said Bob with a smile. ‘Don’t let it worry you. Oh, by the way,’ he added almost as though it were an afterthought, ‘I’ve heard that our new boss is going to pay us a visit this morning. He rang me at home last night. He was hoping to get back from Amsterdam in time to do the honours, but there’s been a hold-up with the Van der Walle deal.’

‘Do you know much about our new owner?’ Genista asked him, abandoning the chart she had been studying.

Bob shook his head. He was a tall, well-made man, still very attractive, his dark hair tinged with silver, a twinkle in his blue eyes as he studied Genista’s downbent head. His manner towards her was fatherly, teasing almost, and Genista was able to enjoy his company without worrying that he might think she was attracted to him—Bob was very happily married; one of the very few who were, Genista often thought.

‘All kinds of rumours were floating about while you were away,’ he told her, ‘but nothing concrete. The entrepreneur who built up the L.F.N. Corporation is something of a mystery man, apparently, and doesn’t go in for publicity. Greg’s met him. He called round at Brian’s flat when he was there.’

‘And promptly found himself a new job,’ Genista commented dryly. ‘Hardly a good omen.’

‘Oh, you know Greg—or you should do by now. An easy life and a lavish expenses account and he was happy. I suspect when he heard the firm was being taken over he saw the writing on the wall. Brian Hargreaves is an excellent man in his field, but as an administrator he’s inclined to be a little lax.’

Genista knew that this was true. Computerstore had a good reputation and did very well, but it could have done even better with tighter financial control, and certain members of the staff had very light duties in proportion to their generous salaries.

‘You’ve no need to worry,’ Bob assured her, as though he had read her mind. ‘You’re a very able worker, Gen, and there’s no way I could manage without you.’

His phone rang, and Genista moved away as she heard him say sharply. ‘Elaine!’

It was unusual for his wife to ring him at work, and she wondered again if something was wrong at home. Although they worked closely together and she had met Elaine, Bob was inclined to keep his private life private, and Genista had no wish to pry. She busied herself with her own work, which had piled up during her holiday, and when a sudden disturbance by the main door broke her concentration she glanced at her watch, surprised to see that the morning was almost gone.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bob leave his desk, and rather than appear curious she bent her head over her own work again, even though she had guessed that the disturbance had been caused by the arrival of their new boss. No doubt Simon, their commissionaire, had shown him up from their reception area. Genista could hear the familiar sound of Bob’s voice; his introduction as he paused by the desk used by the technical sales team. Her desk was next in line, and it was very tempting to glance up while the newcomer was talking and snatch a quick look at him, but Genista fought the temptation, and was glad that she had done when he and Bob moved away from the technicians after a very brief exchange of conversation, and walked towards her.

‘Now let me introduce you to Gen, my assistant,’ she heard Bob saying. ‘She’s a real asset to the firm. A hard worker …’

‘Yes, I’ve already heard a great deal about Jennifer.’

Genista felt as though someone had just poured ice-cold water down her spine. She would have recognised that voice anywhere!

‘Jennifer?’ she heard Bob say in a puzzled voice. ‘Oh, I see! No, the Gen is short for Genista, not Jennifer. I suppose really it’s a crime to shorten such a beautiful name.’

‘Genista!’ There was no discernible inflection in the cool male voice as he repeated her name. Genista had been staring at the faint stripe of darker grey running across his pale grey tie while he spoke, but now she lifted her eyes from the tie to the cool grey eyes which almost matched it, her stomach lurching betrayingly, despite the fact that she had recognised his voice the moment she had heard him speak.

‘Genista!’

He held out his hand and she had no option but to place her own in it. In an immaculately tailored pale grey mohair suit and a fine silk shirt he looked very different from the man in black shirt and jeans who had pursued her down that narrow alleyway and kissed her so fiercely against her will, but he and this cool imposing stranger whom Bob was introducing as Luke Ferguson, head of the L.F.N. Corporation, were undeniably one and the same person.

She met his eyes as bravely as she could, and saw instantly that his shock had been as great as hers. Greg had known who he was, she remembered bitterly, and had no doubt enjoyed watching her put her career at risk. Well, he could fire her if he liked. In fact it would probably be better if he did, because there was no way she could continue to work for Computerstore if it meant that by doing so it would bring her into contact with him!

‘So you’re Bob’s assistant?’

There was an odd inflection to the way he said the words; a look in his eyes that sent a frisson of alarm feathering down Genista’s spine. Her chin lifted automatically, her eyes defying him to say what he was thinking.

‘Do I get the impression you two already know one another?’ Bob commented, obviously puzzled. ‘But, Gen, this morning …’

‘I didn’t realise that Mr Ferguson was to be our new boss,’ she interrupted coolly before Bob could complete his sentence. Faint colour burned up under her skin as she remembered the way she had deliberately set out to humiliate Luke the previous evening. Most of the other guests at the party had been on the staff of Computerstore. It wouldn’t be long before the news of their new boss’s identity got round; no doubt her colleagues were already taking bets on how long it would be before she got the sack. She would hand in her notice, she decided wildly. The moment Luke had gone she would tell Bob. The phone rang, cutting across her thoughts, and she reached for the receiver automatically, only to find Luke’s lean fingers already clamped round it. He lifted it to his ear, his expression sardonic as he passed it over to her.

‘For you. One of the hazards of employing a beautiful woman, I suppose—her phone never stops ringing!’

Genista could have told him that she never had private calls at the office, but instead she took the receiver from it him. The call was from the sales manager of the garage from whom she had ordered her new car. She had been promised delivery several weeks perviously, and the car had not materialised. Now it had, and he wanted to know when she wanted to pick it up. She bit her lip as she hung up. Luke had turned aside to talk to Jilly, who, despite her engaged state, was sparkling prettily up at him, and under cover of their conversation managed to attract Bob’s attention.

‘Are you doing anything at lunchtime?’ she asked him quietly, but obviously not quietly enough. Luke Ferguson must have ears like a bat, she thought resentfully, as he turned smoothly from Jilly back to Bob. ‘I’m sorry, Bob, I forgot to mention it, but I’ve arranged for you to have lunch with my personal assistant. He wants to talk over several plans we have for streamlining some of your systems, and I’m afraid we can’t put it off because he’s due to fly north tomorrow to Aberdeen for talks with one of the oil companies. There could be a good contract in it for Computerstore, so I don’t want to delay these talks. Sorry if it means putting off something important.’

He wasn’t sorry at all, Genista thought angrily. She was quite sure he had just concocted that lunch just to obstruct her.

‘Oh, not at all,’ Bob said easily. ‘It wasn’t something that can’t wait, was it, Gen? What did you want?’ he teased with a grin. ‘Surely not my advice on a new dress?’

Genista shook her head, wondering a little at the anger which suddenly seemed to burn in the dark grey eyes watching her so closely. ‘It’ll keep. I’ll tell you about it later.’ She had wanted Bob to go with her when she went to pick up her car. She was a little nervous about the thought of driving it for the first time in the lunchtime traffic, but she could ring the garage when he and Luke had gone and put them off until tomorrow.

‘I don’t suppose I would do in substitution?’ Luke drawled, thoroughly disconcerting her. ‘Since I’ve deprived you of Bob’s company, offering my own instead seems a pretty fair recompense.’

‘Do you think so?’ Genista knew that Bob was frowning over her uncharacteristic behaviour. Jilly’s mouth had fallen wide open, and Genista suspected that once they were alone the other girl would deliver another lecture, but right now she did not care.

‘You’ll have to forgive me, Mr Ferguson,’ she added with a sweet smile, and the rather euphoric feeling that she was about to burn her boats with a vengenance, ‘but I’m afraid there’s simply no way you could stand in for Bob.’

It was a good exit line and she made the most of it, picking up her bag and walking swiftly towards the door before anyone else could add anything. It was lunchtime anyway, and she needed to be somewhere on her own to give herself time to recover from the shock of discovering that the new owner of the firm she worked for was none other than the man she had so grossly humiliated the previous evening. Damn Greg! He might have warned her! No doubt he had found it highly amusing. She should have remembered that he enjoyed playing tricks like that, and right from the start there had been something about Luke which had set him apart from the normal run of Greg’s friends, despite his casual attire. Greg could be as vindictive as the most shallow-minded women on occasions, and it was Genista’s misfortune that she had made her contempt of him too plain, too often.

She couldn’t eat any lunch. She picked at a sandwich and drank half a cup of coffee before returning to the office. She had expected to find it deserted, but someone was standing by her desk, and her heart missed a beat as she recognised Luke’s darkly handsome features. He had been bending over studying something, but as though he sensed her presence he stood up, his palm open, something glittering metallically on it.

‘I thought I’d better not give you this while any one else was around,’ he said softly, ‘Although perhaps I’d be doing him a favour I doubt he’d continue to support you for much longer, once he knew that he wasn’t the only one with a key to your rather expensive apartment. How does he manage it?’ His eyes rested contemptuously on Genista’s expensive separates. ‘You don’t strike me as a girl with exactly modest tastes—good clothes, an apartment in a luxurious block; discreetly expensive jewellery, in fact all the trappings of a young lady of some means. And he has a wife and child to keep as well, but then I suppose when it comes to a woman as beauteful as you a man will always find the necessary, won’t he, Genista?’

Genista was too stunned to speak. For a moment she thought she must have misunderstood. Luke couldn’t be suggesting that she was Bob’s mistress, and worse still, that he was actually keeping her? But he was, as he soon made very plain.

‘If you’re thinking of denying it, don’t bother. Greg told me all about you, but as he kept referring to you as “Jen”, I thought your name was Jennifer. I ought to have known better. I’m renowned for my astute perception; that’s how I got where I am today. I knew the first moment I saw you you weren’t an ordinary run-of-the-mill girl, but I allowed my desire to cloud my judgment. No wonder you wouldn’t let me take you home! You’re a shrewd little bitch, aren’t you? Why did you encourage me in the first place, Genista, or can I guess? Perhaps you’d heard that I’m a very rich man, and you got ambitious. If a man like Bob Norman will keep you so comfortably, think what I could give you? But you got cold feet, didn’t you? You decided it might be better to be safe than sorry; after all, you’d no guarantee that I would give you anything, and you might lose Bob. You should have had more courage, my dear,’ he told her softly. ‘The way I wanted you last night. I’d have given you anything. However, the cold light of morning brings back sanity, so perhaps you made the right decision after all. Does Bob know about last night?’

‘What is there to know?’ Genista was amazed that she could sound so calm; that she could respond so carelessly, when her furious repudiation of his vile accusations had lodged like a hard ball in her chest.

‘What indeed?’ Luke agreed silkily. ‘But then lovers are notoriously jealous people, and I still have this.’ He dangled the key from his fingers, smiling cruelly. ‘It would be the easiest thing in the world for me to—er—remove it from my pocket by mistake in Bob’s presence, and the hardest for you to convince him that my possession of it doesn’t go hand in glove with my possession of you.’

It was those last few words that did it, driving from her the last vestiges of self-control, her hands balled into two angry fists, as she turned to him, angry colour burning up under her skin.

‘I’d rather die than let you touch me, never mind possess me!’ Her voice was shaking with the pent-up force of her anger. She was far too wound up to be aware of the red tide sweeping under Luke’s own skin, or the rage burning blackly in his eyes, all her attention concentrated on showing him in what contempt she held him—his meaningless threats, and his total misconception of her relationship with Bob. It was typical of a man like him to leap to such a conclusion, she thought in disgust. No doubt he had enjoyed the sort of relationship he had accused her of having with Bob, with countless numbers of women. It must be far easier to rid oneself of them when one grew bored, if they had merely been ‘bought’. Well, no man would ever buy her! Love was the only possible reason for permitting a man sexual intimacy, and she already knew to her cost that such an emotion simply did not exist, and if that meant that she must go through the rest of her life alone, then that was what she would do. A kept woman! Her mouth turned downward in a bitter grimace.

‘So you’d rather die, would you?’ The low, almost snarled words held a dangerous threat, but Genista was oblivious to it. Her face was paper-white, her eyes as dark as pansies within its white triangle. No man had ever spoken to her the way Luke Ferguson had just done, and the shock of his accusations had almost frozen her ability to defend herself.

‘And what about Bob’s wife? Or doesn’t she come into your coldhearted calculations?’ Luke continued in obvious disgust. ‘Don’t you care that you’re breaking up her marriage—stealing her husband?’

It was on the tip of Genista’s tongue to tell him that far from stealing another woman’s husband, she had always made a rule of avoiding any man who she knew to be involved with another woman. She had been too hurt by a man’s duplicity once before to risk the same sort of pain again.

‘At least he isn’t completely under your thumb,’ Luke added abrasively. ‘Otherwise he’d be sharing that apartment with you.’

His bitter contempt; the insults he was heaping upon her combined to make her say recklessly,

‘Perhaps I don’t want him to. Perhaps I …’

‘Perhaps you value your freedom too much to give it up for any man,’ Luke interrupted cuttingly. ‘That’s the sort of woman you are, isn’t it, Genista? Using your beauty like a weapon, always taking and never giving. What happens when you grow tired of Bob? Or was that what last night was really all about? Are you already searching for his successor?’

This time Genista’s self-control snapped completely. The imprint of her fingers against Luke’s lean tanned cheek took a long time to fade, through white to red, and then brown again, and during those seemingly endless moments, he neither spoke nor moved, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.

She had behaved like a harpy, Genista thought wretchedly. What on earth had come over her? She prided herself on her cool control. Not even Richard, whose actions and words had surely been far more hurtful than Luke Ferguson’s contempt, had provoked her to violence. A terrible nausea rose up inside her as she stared at the marks of her fingers against Luke’s skin. Her legs seemed to turn to jelly, and she groped blindly for a chair.

‘You’re wrong. I …’

Her husky attempt at explanation and apology was swept aside.

‘No, you’re the one who’s wrong, Genista, if you think you can treat me the way you have done and get away with it.’

As though the scales had suddenly been wrenched from her eyes, she saw him for the first time as the man he was; a man who had built up a multi-million pound financial empire virtually from nothing; a man notorious in business circles for his single-minded determination when it came to getting his own way; a man whom she had grossly humiliated and insulted, and who was now towering above her menacingly … a man with whom she was completely alone …

She stepped backwards on legs that trembled, longing to run, but mesmerised like a petrified rabbit by the dark grey eyes.

‘Not so valiant now, are we?’ Luke asked softly, moving as stealthily as a jungle cat.

Terror swept her, drawing her down into a black vortex, paralysing her limbs completely.

‘Oh no,’ he continued in that same frighteningly steady voice, ‘I’m not going to touch you now, Genista. But one day I shall. I fully intend to make you pay for last time, to honour the promises you made me albeit only with your eyes and body.’ His mouth twisted in a cynical smile. ‘And don’t try to pretend that you didn’t. You were taking me for a ride, Genista, but now I’m in control of the train and the ride won’t be over until I say so.’

He was playing with her like a cat with a mouse, Genista thought bitterly, deliberately tormenting her, knowing that because she was his employee he had a certain amount of power over her.

‘You don’t strike me as a man who would compete for any woman,’ she said bravely, trying to appear unconcerned. ‘Especially one he knows to be the mistress of someone else.’

For a moment she thought he was going to strike her. Her body stiffened in fear, and his eyes gleamed satirically, the bitter hunger she had thought she saw there seconds before banished so completely that she thought it must have been a trick of the light.

‘I’m a businessman,’ he reminded her coolly, ‘and I don’t like being cheated out of my just re-wards. I wanted you the moment I saw you, Genista—you’re a very beautiful woman—and I fully intend to have you!’

With that calm declaration he turned on his heel, leaving her alone in the office trying to come to terms with her chaotic thoughts. The man was unbelievable—insane even! He was behaving as though he were a feudal baron with rights of droit du seigneur over her. She knew she had every right to feel furiously angry, but for some reason the confrontation with him seemed to have drained her of the energy to feel anything apart from a panicky fear that stuck in her throat, causing her heart to beat nervously as she contemplated the words he had thrown at her before leaving the room.

Her fingers trembled as she dialled the foyer number of the flats. George answered almost immediatedly, assuring her that he had changed her lock. It must be the relief that made her feel so close to tears, she decided when she hung up, because certainly it was not like her to be so emotional.

When Bob returned from lunch she asked him if he could spare the time to accompany her to her garage.

‘I’m terrified of driving the car for the first time,’ she admitted to him ruefully, ‘and I badly need some moral support.’

‘You should have asked our new boss,’ Jilly interrupted with a grin. ‘He’s really smitten, didn’t you think so, Bob?’

‘Don’t be so ridiculous, Jilly!’ Genista cut in before Bob could speak. ‘I’ve already told you, you’ve got romance on the brain!’

‘All right, tell me about your new car instead,’ Jilly temporised. ‘What make is it?’

‘A Mercedes,’ Genista told her, reluctant to sound as though she were bragging about her new possession. ‘It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time, and at last I’ve decided to take the plunge. It’s a convertible—a sort of sports model, and I want Bob to come with me to pick it up. I’m terrified of driving it for the first time.’

‘A Mercedes?’ Jilly squeaked, in obvious awe. ‘You lucky thing!’ She said it without any malice, adding with a grin, ‘A sports car too—what happens in the winter?’

Neither of them had seen Luke walk into the room, and feeling relieved that her friend had exhibited no envy, Genista replied with a touch of slightly dry humour,

‘Oh, I’ll use the Ferrari then, of course. What do you think, Bob? When we’ve collected the Mercedes, how about buying a Ferrari?’

They were all laughing when Genista turned round and caught sight of Luke’s openly contemptuous expression. Shock and guilt mingled on her own face, and it wasn’t until much later that she realised he must have read in her expression confirmation of his suspicions that Bob was buying the car for her.

Bob’s phone rang and Jilly drifted back to her desk, leaving Genista completely unprotected when Luke walked up and muttered in a voice which only carried as far as her,

‘Perhaps I ought to start checking the books. There’s no way Bob can afford the sort of luxuries that you demand, unless he’s got private means. You certainly believe in pricing yourself high, don’t you?’

‘Meaning you couldn’t afford me?’ Genista parried swiftly, not caring what conclusions he would draw from her words. He already suspected the very worst it was possible for a man to think of a woman about her; any further conclusions he might draw could only be an anti-climax.

‘On the contrary,’ he told her smoothly, with a speed which caught her off guard, ‘I could easily provide you with the Mercedes and the Ferrari. Think about it, Genista. I’m not averse to paying generously for my pleasures.’

‘How predictable you are!’ Genista hissed back angrily. ‘You want something and you immediately think all you have to do is buy it. Haven’t you learned yet that some things simply can’t be bought?’

Her heated speech made him raise an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming sardonically as he looked down at her, saying with slow deliberation, ‘But we already know that you’re not one of them, don’t we, Genista?’

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