Only Lover
Carole Mortimer

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

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

JOEL looked up with a scowl as the intercom buzzed on his desk. ‘Yes?’ he asked curtly, his soft American drawl only faintly discernible.

‘Your eleven o'clock appointment has arrived,’ came Cathy's smooth reply.

Again Joel scowled. He wasn't in the mood for being pleasant this morning; last night's scene with Laura was still too vivid in his mind for him to be feeling polite. He clicked on the intercom again. ‘Show them in, Cathy,’ he said with a sigh.

His dark mood didn't lift as Cathy opened the connecting door between their offices to usher in the person waiting to see him. Cathy smiled at him before leaving the room, closing the door softly behind her. Joel transferred his attention to the girl who had entered the room at Cathy's bidding.

He needed no more than his normal male instincts to tell him that here was a beautiful girl. Her hair was a beautiful golden cap, wavy tendrils at her forehead and nape giving her the look of a cherub. But the tall curvaceous body certainly didn't belong to a child, far from it. The clear green eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes and the creamy matt complexion perhaps had too much of a look of forced innocence for Joel's liking, but if she could carry it off with any degree of conviction, who could blame her for trying? And the innocence did look natural, it was only Joel's cynical disbelief of all women that told him otherwise.

Joel sat forward in his deep leather armchair. ‘What can I do for you—–’ he consulted his appointment book. ‘Miss Halliday?'

Farrah licked her lips nervously, moving forward over the scatter rugs to stand in front of the huge mahogany desk. The desk seemed to be the only concession made to this room being an office. Huge leather-bound books lined the walls, deep leather armchairs in a rich brown colour stood either side of a huge drinks cabinet that looked, and probably was, a genuine antique, and half a dozen scatter rugs littered the highly polished floor. To Farrah it was like stepping back into the early nineteen-hundreds, and she felt even more unnerved than she had sitting outside in the reception area.

Joel Falcone was perhaps the only modern thing about this room and yet he wasn't in the least reassuring, with his dark over-long hair tinged with grey at the temples and shaped into the nape of his tanned neck, a hawk-like nose and firm sensuous lips that were now set in a straight forbidding line. But it was the eyes that affected her the most, narrowed icy blue eyes that appeared to miss nothing, and she was sure they didn't. His charcoal grey suit fitted perfectly across his powerful shoulders and the silk shirt gleamed whitely against the darkness of his skin.

‘Well, Miss Halliday?’ he said tersely, his voice deep and husky.

‘Don't you—–Don't you know me, Mr Falcone?’ she asked tremulously.

He raised an arrogant eyebrow. ‘Should I?'

‘Perhaps not me, but perhaps P-Paul Halliday.’ The last came out breathlessly.

Joel's dark brow creased in thought. ‘Paul Halliday,’ he repeated slowly. ‘You're his daughter? Or perhaps his wife?'

‘His daughter,’ she admitted. Still she saw no dawning comprehension in his dark arrogant face. ‘Don't you know who my father is?'

Joel began to feel impatient. He couldn't be bothered with this guessing game. ‘As far as I am aware your father works in the accounts department,’ his eyes sharpened with interest. ‘Ah, I begin to understand. Your father stole from this firm, did he not? Are you here to plead on his behalf?’ he mocked cruelly.

‘Not plead, no,’ her eyes sparkled angrily. ‘And my father did not steal from you. He borrowed a small amount of money and—–'

A deep mirthless laugh interrupted her tirade. ‘Your father did not borrow anything. And it was hardly a small sum. Twenty-five thousand pounds taken systematically over eleven months could hardly be classed in that light.'

Farrah's hands wrung together and Joel was forced to notice what beautiful hands they were, long and tapered with perfectly lacquered nails. ‘But my father needed that money. Oh, I know that doesn't excuse him, but you wouldn't miss twenty-five thousand pounds among your millions.'

‘Maybe not, in fact, I'm sure not,’ Joel said blandly. ‘But the excuse that he needed the money is hardly my affair. For whatever reason he stole that money, gambling debts, drink—although if he used all that money on drink he would be in his grave by now, or even if it was to buy you out of trouble, I do not see why my company should bail him—or you—out.'

She bit her lips hard to stop them from trembling. Her father had warned her that Joel Falcone was a hard man, but she hadn't realised just how hard. She had come here today with the intention of begging if necessary, but she couldn't do such a thing before this hard unyielding man. He would merely look down his nose at her and not give an inch.

‘He didn't need the money for himself—or me for that matter. I have no need of money.'

Joel looked at her elegant summer dress, her sheer tights and the well fitting leather shoes. His eyes moved slowly back to her face, and once again he was struck by her beauty. ‘I can see that. Do you have yourself a rich middle-aged protector who tries to live through your youth?’ he said this with a sneer, and Farrah flinched at his contempt.

Two angry spots of colour appeared on her creamy cheeks and suddenly she looked very youthful, her eyes wide and distressed. ‘I don't have a rich protector, Mr Falcone,’ she told him stiffly. ‘You just happen to pay well.'

‘I do?’ For once his bland expression deserted him. ‘Do you work for me?'

‘In Angie Preston's department,’ she supplied unwillingly, the last thing she or her father needed was for her to lose her job too. At the moment she was supporting both of them, although how long she could continue to do so she wasn't sure. The Falcone newspaper and magazine organisation did pay well as she had said, but certainly not enough to support two people.

‘The problem page!’ he said with disgust. ‘And how long have you been with the firm?'

‘Three years now, ever since I left school.'

‘School?’ Joel echoed sharply. ‘How old are you?’ he asked.

Farrah hesitated. She had deliberately dressed to look older for this appointment today, although with these baby waves that was quite difficult. And now she had ruined it all with a slip of the tongue. ‘Nineteen,’ she supplied miserably.

Joel's eyes narrowed even more. ‘And what does a child like you hope to achieve by coming here to see me? Your father is an embezzler and must pay the penalty for such a crime.'

‘Oh, but I'll—I'll do anything to save him from going to prison,’ her eyes pleaded with him. ‘Anything!'

‘Don't you think that's rather a rash statement to make, Miss Halliday?’ he said coldly. ‘You don't know what manner of man I am. I could ask anything whatsoever of you and you would be compelled to comply.'

‘Oh, but I—you wouldn't—–’ She blushed fiery red.

‘You're right, I wouldn't.’ His lips curled with distaste. ‘At thirty-seven I'm nearly as old as your own father. I haven't taken to seducing babes, no matter how charmingly they offer themselves to me. Does your father know what you're doing?'

‘He knows I've come to see you, yes.'

‘Why couldn't he come himself?'

‘He isn't well,’ Farrah replied resentfully. ‘He couldn't go to prison, Mr Falcone, it would kill him. Please don't prosecute him!'

Joel began to look bored. ‘The prosecution of your father is not my concern. I have security people to deal with things like that.'

‘Please don't be so cruel, Mr Falcone. My father is a sick man, and this worry isn't helping him. He stole that money for a good reason, I promise you that. I'll pay it all back, really I will.'

He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Twenty-five thousand pounds! My dear girl, you may only be nineteen, but it would take you nearly a lifetime to pay me back on the salary you earn.'

‘I don't intend to be working on the problem page the rest of my working life. I want to be a proper journalist.'

‘It would still take you years.’ He became thoughtful, his dark face almost satanic in its intensity. He might be thirty-seven years of age, but he was certainly the most excitingly handsome man Farrah had ever seen. He was like a sleepy feline, sleek and beautiful, and just as dangerous. She watched him as the silence continued, wondering what he was thinking behind that enigmatic expression.

‘You could just be the answer to my problem,’ he spoke softly, so softly she could hardly hear him. Joel looked at her critically. ‘A little young perhaps, but that can't be helped. At least you're beautiful.'

‘What are you talking about, Mr Falcone?'

He smiled slightly, but it was a smile without humour. ‘Just an idea I have. You said you would do anything—I hope you meant that. Go now, I have to think this over.'

‘But I—I—–When will I know?'

‘When I damn well choose to tell you,’ he snapped. ‘I'll call you in the department tomorrow. I take it you will be in to work tomorrow?'

‘Yes, but I—–’ She could just imagine the girls’ astonishment and curiosity if she were summoned up to the fifteenth floor to see the owner, Joel Falcone. She was only a very junior member of staff while this man was the owner of newspapers and magazines both in England and abroad, and was never seen by his minions. None of the girls in her office knew anything of her father's embezzling—she cringed at the word, but in truth there was no other description more fitting—they all assumed he was ill. How could she explain the reason for Joel Falcone's summons without involving her father?

Blue eyes narrowed to icy slits. ‘I care nothing for your embarrassment,’ he guessed the reason for her silence correctly. ‘Just make sure you come when you're called.'

Farrah could do nothing else but accept his words as a dismissal, he was obviously a man of forceful character who didn't expect his words to be questioned. Miserably she made her way home. She had thought she would be able to give her father some good news when she returned, but she was to be disappointed, and so, unfortunately, was he. The interview hadn't yet been concluded.

Her father looked up expectantly as she quietly entered their flat, his green eyes so like her own looking at her avidly, almost eagerly, and what he read in her face made his shoulders droop unhappily. Farrah could cheerfully have hit Joel Falcone's arrogant face at that moment for causing her father this extra pain.

‘No luck, I see,’ said her father wearily.

She sat down beside him on the sofa, taking his painfully thin hand into her own, trying to give him some of the warmth she had felt from the blazing sun outside. She smiled at him reassuringly. ‘It will be all right, Daddy, really it will.'

‘I bet the arrogant devil wouldn't even let you through the door when he realised who you were.'

Farrah couldn't bear the look of defeat on her father's face, a man who had once been a tall proud man, now but a shrivelled shell of himself. ‘You're wrong, Daddy, I did see him. We talked for about ten minutes or so.'

‘But you didn't get him to stop prosecution did you?'

‘Well no, but I—–'

‘Typical Italian is Joel Falcone,’ mumbled her father. ‘Not an ounce of forgiveness in their body. Just pure revenge.'

Farrah attempted a light laugh, but her father's words had sent an icy shiver down her back. ‘He isn't pure Italian, Daddy—well, not really. He's an Italian-American, he's probably never even been to Italy.'

‘Of course he has, Farrah, he has a branch of Falcone's over there. So he wouldn't agree to drop the charges,’ he repeated.

‘I didn't say that, Daddy,’ she licked her lips nervously. ‘He hasn't made up his mind yet.'

Her father looked at her sharply. ‘What does that mean?’ he asked slowly.

Farrah stood up to pace the room, a large sun-filled room that seemed to reflect her mother's own sunny personality. God, she missed her mother! What would she have done in this situation? What a stupid question that was; if it weren't for their love of her mother this situation wouldn't have arisen. But neither of them had realised her father was stealing that money. She forced a cheerful smile. ‘I'm to go back and see him tomorrow.'

Paul Halliday looked at her suspiciously. ‘What for?'

‘I don't know, Daddy. Just to give me his answer, I suppose.'

‘He could have done that today. He didn't make a pass at you, did he? I've heard of his reputation with women and it isn't very flattering. He had a string of women before finally settling for Laura Bennett a few years ago. Not that he's changed much. There seem to have been just as many women, and she isn't much better.'

‘No, Daddy, he didn't make a pass at me. Far from it. He told me he was old enough to be my father.'

‘And so he is. Must be forty if he's a day.'

‘He's thirty-seven, actually. And he's rather handsome in a dangerous sort of way. He's not the ordinary type of man you see about. There's something sort of—well, sort of special about him. You know—he's the sort you could never ignore in the street,’ she bubbled over with laughter. ‘He looks as if he should be the head of the Mafia or something, with all that black, grey-sprinkled hair, that dark harshly handsome face and the expensive handmade suits.'

‘Don't even say things like that in fun, Farrah. You never know.'

‘Don't be silly, Daddy. He doesn't look the violent type—powerful, yes, and seemingly completely in control of his own destiny, but not physically violent, at least, not needlessly so.'

‘He made quite an impression on you, didn't he, child?'

‘Oh yes. He was—well, he was quite something. Frightening, but so very much alive. He seemed to emit suppressed power, as if it only needed some little thing and he would explode into life. But he's cold—so cold, as if love has never touched him, or he has never allowed it to. It's strange really, I only saw him for a few minutes and yet I can remember him vividly.'

‘Now then, Farrah,’ her father said briskly, ‘don't become fanciful about the man. Remember, my future depends on him.'

All the light died out of her face as she sat down again beside her father. ‘Don't worry so, Daddy,’ she hugged him. ‘Everything will work out, you'll see.'

She told herself the same thing many times over the next day, looking up nervously every time the telephone rang. She had wanted to wear something rather smarter than the fitted denims and checked shirt that she usually wore, but that would have only drawn attention to herself. And that she could quite well do without. Especially after this morning's conversation with Fiona.

Fiona had sat on the side of Farrah's desk, a tall leggy brunette who was aware of her own beauty without being conceited. She was very popular with both sexes and Farrah returned her smile companionably. ‘Something wrong?'

She referred to the letters she had just passed on for reply to the older girl. Fiona shook her head. ‘No, these are fine. It's just that—well, you were off sick yesterday, right? Well, I could have sworn I saw you in the building,’ she looked puzzled. ‘In fact I thought you were going up in the private lift to the fifteenth floor.'

‘Who, me?’ Farrah did her best to give a teasing smile, she only hoped Fiona was convinced by the shaky result. ‘Going up to Joel Falcone's office? You must be joking!'

Fiona stood up, smiling self-derisively. ‘I thought I must have been wrong. None of us ever see the great man. I've never set eyes on him, and I've been here nearly four years.'

‘Rather elusive, is he?'

‘Elusive! The man's positively unattainable.'

‘But he's very friendly with Laura Bennett,’ Farrah pointed out, ‘so he can't be that unattainable.'

‘His sleeping partner, in more ways than one,’ scoffed Fiona. ‘I've always said business and pleasure shouldn't be mixed, and they're a good example.'

Farrah looked up now as Tracy beckoned her to the internal telephone. ‘Joel Falcone's office,’ she said in awed tones.

Farrah quickly took the receiver, turning away from the several pairs of eyes that had turned to look at her at Tracy's outburst. ‘Yes?’ she said breathlessly.

‘I want to see you now,’ came the cool clipped tones of her employer.

‘Now?’ she repeated stupidly.

He gave an impatient sigh. ‘Now, Miss Halliday, don't keep me waiting.’ The telephone clicked down firmly at the other end.

Farrah looked about her awkwardly, quietly making her excuses to leave the office before the girls’ curiosity got the better of them and they actually started to ask questions. She almost ran out of the office, getting into the lift and pressing the button for the fifteenth floor. Her heart began to beat erratically, sounding like a bass drum to her ears. The procedure of yesterday was repeated, except this time she wasn't kept waiting but was shown straight into Joel Falcone's spacious office.

Again as yesterday, he was seated behind the huge imposing desk, but dressed less formally, the dark grey business suit of yesterday discarded in favour of a black silk shirt opened casually at the neck and black trousers that fitted closely to his long muscular legs.

His eyes narrowed appraisingly as he took in her own appearance and Farrah put up a nervous hand to ruffle her short cherubic hair. It was an endearing gesture, and made those icy blue eyes narrow even more.

‘Miss Halliday,’ he said deeply.

‘Mr Falcone,’ she replied huskily. ‘I—er—– You asked me to come.'

‘Of course I did, Miss Halliday, I'm not so ancient that my memory fails me,’ his mouth twisted mockingly. ‘We have a conversation to finish.'

Farrah blinked nervously. ‘Yes, Mr Falcone. You—um—you said you had something to think over.'

Joel Falcone stood up, his tall lean frame even more intimidating as he came round the desk to stand in front of her. ‘Won't you sit down. Miss Halliday?'

She looked round at the leather armchair just behind her, dropping down thankfully into its luxurious depth and then wishing she hadn't as she realised how much smaller it made her feel as she looked up at him.

He began to pace up and down the office, emanating a completely masculine aura as he occasionally looked at her before turning frowningly away again. Suddenly he stopped in front of her. ‘Tell me, Miss Halliday—what do you think of me?'

Farrah looked at him open-mouthed. Whatever it was she had been expecting it certainly hadn't been a question like this. ‘Wh-What do I think of—of you?’ she asked hesitantly.

Icy blue eyes pinpointed her to the chair and Farrah moved back involuntarily. ‘Yes, me Miss Halliday, not Joel Falcone your employer, but Joel Falcone the man.'

What on earth was he talking about? Farrah felt completely bemused. She didn't quite see what this conversation had to do with her father and the taking of this man's money. ‘I don't quite see …’ She shook her head.

‘No one is asking you to. Answer the question, Miss Halliday.'

Farrah looked at him closely to see if he was mocking her, but his expression was unreadable. What could she say about such a man, especially to his face? Her cheeks blushed a fiery red and she sat forward uncomfortably. ‘Well, I—I don't know what to say!'

‘The truth would perhaps be preferable,’ he drawled dryly. ‘Speak up, girl. I don't bite—well, not babies like you anyway, and certainly not in these circumstances.'

She blushed again, looking away from his taunting face. ‘What am I supposed to say? You know what you look like, so why ask me?'

Joel Falcone sighed in exasperation. ‘I don't mean my physical looks—well, perhaps I do, but I don't mean the fact that I have dark hair, am tall, of Italian descent from my skin colouring, and look my age. I want to know how you feel about me, how my looks affect you?”

‘Well, for a start you don't look your age, experienced and—cynical and—–'

‘Yes? Well, don't stop now. This conversation could be the deciding point of your father's immediate future.'

‘Oh! Oh well, in that case,’ she looked at him critically. ‘You're cynical most of all—and rather condescending. And arrogant. But you're attractive too.'

‘Oh, I'm glad about that,’ he interrupted mockingly. ‘Let's concentrate on that, shall we?'

‘All right. Well, you have a sort of magnetism, animal magnetism I think they call it. And your features are ruggedly attractive, not handsome, you understand, but very attractive.'

Joel Falcone walked back around his desk and sat down again, smiling slightly at her embarrassment. ‘So we have established that you don't find me repulsive. That's good—in the circumstances. And I—I don't find you repulsive either. Too young for my taste, but then only I know that.’ He was talking quietly to himself again. He looked up at her. ‘Sorry, honey, I was far away.'

Farrah shrugged her shoulders. ‘What's all this about, Mr Falcone? I don't understand you.'

‘No, I don't suppose you do. But you will—oh, believe me, you will. Do you know anything about my personal life?'

She hadn't, but during the last twenty-four hours she had learnt that he had more than just a business relationship with the other owner of this firm, the actress Laura Bennett, but they both had other relationships. She paled. Surely he wasn't interested in her that way? Hadn't he said she was too young for him? But he had also said she wasn't repulsive to him. When she said anything yesterday she hadn't meant anything!

‘Relax, Miss Halliday. And as you don't seem to have an answer I will assume that you have heard a little about me but don't feel able to reveal it,’ he laughed harshly. ‘Why you should feel so reticent I have no idea. You've already called my cynical, condescending, and arrogant, so why draw the line at my private life?'

Her green eyes sparkled at his intended mockery. ‘I said those things because I know them to be true. The things I've heard about your private life are exactly that, hearsay. I don't feel able to judge you on that.'

Joel Falcone's mouth tightened visibly and Farrah flinched from his icy gaze. ‘I'm not asking you to judge me on anything,’ he snapped coldly. ‘You are hardly in a position to judge anyone.'

Farrah sprang agilely to her feet, sparks of anger shooting from her eyes. ‘You're cruel, Mr Falcone!’ she choked.

He smiled, a slow leisurely smile that taunted and mocked. ‘Yes, I'm that too. Sit down, Miss Halliday,’ he said harshly, all humour leaving his face to be replaced by a cold mask. ‘You asked for my help when I would be quite happy to let the law deal with your father. I thought I had found a way to help him and myself at the same time. It seems I was wrong.’ He stood up in conclusion of the interview. ‘You wouldn't be co-operative, and a sulky angry companion I can do without.'

All anger left Farrah at his dismissive words and her shoulders slumped dejectedly. She dropped back into the chair. ‘Please, Mr Falcone, I—I didn't mean to lose my temper. If you have some way of helping my father then I'll gladly help—co-operate, whatever,’ she said anxiously.

‘You really are desperate, aren't you? Very well, we'll get back to my private life. You have no doubt heard of my long-standing friendship with Laura Bennett.’ His mouth curled back sneeringly as she blushed. ‘I thought so, it seems to be public knowledge, wouldn't you say?'

‘Yes,’ she agreed softly.

‘Yes. Well, up until now it has been a very—intimate relationship, shall we say? Yes, very intimate.’ Joel Falcone obviously felt no embarrassment at his conversation, but Farrah blushed fiery red. ‘I see you understand my meaning,’ he taunted. ‘And while Laura may be satisfied with that sort of close business and personal arrangement, I find that it no longer suits me at all.'

Farrah felt tempted to ask what this had to do with her, but she resisted. She daren't anger this man any further. ‘Yes?’ she prompted.

He sighed deeply. ‘So, I'm completely bored by the whole tedious affair.'

‘Then why carry—–? Sorry,’ she bowed her head, ‘I didn't mean to pry.'

‘Why carry on,’ he finished for her, feeling none of her embarrassment. ‘I've asked myself the same thing many times. I don't have an answer—except perhaps that Laura seems to deliberately ignore any hints I may give about breaking up our relationship. At the begining I needed a hostess, I entertain a great deal, and I suppose you could say I used her. But whereas the affair seems to have cooled on my side, Laura seems determined to make something more permanent out of it. Needless to say, I don't want that. I want her out of my life once and for all.'

‘Mr Falcone, I don't see why I need to know all this. It isn't any of my business, is it?'

‘I'm not in the habit of telling my private affairs to complete strangers, in fact I don't discuss them with anyone,’ his voice was bitingly precise. ‘Unless of course I have a reason for it, and in your case I do.'

‘And what is that?’ Her curiosity was fully aroused now.

‘It's quite simple really, Miss Halliday. As I've said, my affair with Laura is over as far as I'm concerned, at least in the physical sense, but she seems to want to carry on with it. It's come to the point where I don't even want to see her.'

Farrah was still puzzled. ‘If you feel that strongly about it why don't you just tell her how you feel?'

‘I've tried, but unfortunately Laura feels that her shares in this company give her some sort of special privilege where I'm concerned. They don't. I want to buy her out, but she seems to feel that if I did that she wouldn't see me again. She's right. I don't appreciate her using our business tie to force our personal relationship. I intend showing her that I don't need her—in any way. We have an agreement in our contracts that if either of us decides to sell, shares must be offered to the other partner before being put on the open market. I want to make Laura so mad she has to sell. Now this is where you come in. If Laura genuinely believes me to be in love with, and possibly contemplating marriage with, another woman, then she'll realise I mean what I say about severing our friendship. Her pride won't stand for too much of that sort of treatment. I wanted things to end differently, but she's made that impossible. So,’ he sighed, ‘in return for dropping the charges against your father you are going to become my much-loved girl-friend.'

CHAPTER TWO

‘I'M what!’ At his words Farrah had jumped to her feet and she stood staring at him with disbelief on her face.

‘Calm down, Miss Halliday,’ he said with infuriating calm. ‘I realise my idea isn't quite what you expected, but—–'

‘You're right, it isn't!’ Farrah burst out indignantly, glaring at him defiantly as she saw anger spark in those icy blue eyes at her interruption. ‘How dare you!’ she continued angrily. ‘How dare you suggest such a thing? I couldn't do it!’ she said determinedly, her tiny nose wrinkling with distaste.

‘I said calm down, Miss Halliday,’ Joel Falcone said without emotion. ‘My suggestion that you do this for me was not meant in the physical sense. I've already said you're too young for my tastes.'

‘Yes. Yes!’ Farrah replied impatiently. ‘But if you didn't mean for me to—to—–'

‘Go to bed with me,’ he supplied tauntingly.

‘Yes, go to bed with you! If you don't want that how will she ever think you're serious about me? That seems to be the normal way you progress.'

Blue eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. ‘Do you want to share my bed?'

‘Certainly not!’ But the question gave her a warm unfamiliar feeling inside. What would it be like to be held in this man's arms? To be held intimately against his taut naked body? She brought her chaotic thoughts to a halt, her eyes opening wide with shock as she realised how wanton her thoughts had become. ‘Then I don't understand,’ her eyes were wide with bewilderment.

‘This is all to be pretence, Miss Halliday. Just a way of getting Laura out of my life.'

‘I still don't see why you can't just tell her how you feel.'

‘I've tried, damn you! She still maintains the mistaken idea that those shares give her some sort of hold over me, another woman should convince her otherwise. Although I doubt if she'll be very happy about it, especially as her rival is so much her junior.'

He said all this with a certain amount of satisfaction and she realised he was so angered by Laura Bennett's behaviour that he would enjoy doing this to her. ‘I'm not her rival,’ she said quietly.

‘Only you and I will know that. As far as everyone else is concerned we'll be ecstatically in love with each other.’ His mouth turned back in a sneer.

‘Not if you act like that they won't.'

‘Don't worry, Farrah Halliday, my acting will be superb.'

Farrah started shaking. This man really meant what he was saying! ‘You can't really mean to do this, Mr Falcone—–'

‘Joel, please. If I'm to be your lover—–'

‘You aren't!’ she said sharply.

‘Your pretend lover,’ he amended mockingly. ‘Then you should call me by my first name.'

Farrah laughed brokenly. This couldn't be happening to her! ‘No one's going to believe this, Mr Falcone—Joel then,’ she said at his dark look. ‘No one who actually knows us, especially Miss Bennett.'

‘They'll believe it,’ he said firmly. ‘If you don't know that then you must be as innocent as you look, which no one could ever be. All those baby waves and trusting green eyes!’ he said in disgust. ‘What do you imagine all the girls down in your office are thinking at this moment? Well, I'll tell you. They probably think I'm making love to you right now. According to rumour, no woman is safe left alone with me.'

‘They—they wouldn't think that,’ she denied uncertainly.

‘Sure they would. Why not? You're beautiful, in a childish sort of way. And like I said, no woman is considered safe alone with me.'

‘But they wouldn't—–’ she shook her head.

‘Of course they damn well would! And to convince them even more you're going to leave the building with me right now.'

‘I am not!’ Farrah said indignantly. ‘It's only three o'clock. I can't just leave without telling anyone where I'm going.'

‘I don't intend that you should. That wouldn't benefit us in any way.’ He pressed down the intercom. ‘Cathy, get me Angie Preston.’ He turned to Farrah again. ‘This should set the tongues wagging.'

‘What do you mean to do—–?'

The telephone buzzed to interrupt her and Joel Falcone picked up the receiver. ‘Angie? Joel Falcone,’ he said shortly. ‘No, no, it isn't that. We'll get together about that some other time. I just wanted to tell you that Farrah Halliday won't be back in the department today. No, she isn't ill,’ his eyes silently mocked her. ‘She happens to be leaving with me.'

Farrah almost got up and ran then. It had started already, this deception that would become more and more involved. And she hadn't even agreed to it! But she had no choice in the matter. Joel Falcone had her trapped, and he knew it.

‘That's right,’ he continued, seemingly unaware of Farrah's inner turmoil. ‘And she may be a little late in the morning too. Right. We'll talk about that other matter at a later date.’ He rang off.

Farrah's eyes filled with unshed tears. ‘This is terrible,’ she said huskily. ‘I can't go through with it.'

‘Wouldn't you rather it happened this way than to have everyone know your father is nothing but a common thief?'

‘He isn't a common thief! He needed that money, desperately.'

‘So you've told me. I'd be interested to hear the reason.'

Anger sparked swiftly at his taunting voice. ‘Well, you aren't going to. My father is twice the man you'll ever be. And do you know why? I'll tell you why. Because he loves. You couldn't love anyone or anything—you wouldn't know how to. But my father would and does, and for someone he loves he's willing to do anything. You're just a machine, Mr Falcone, a cold unfeeling machine!'

‘But a rich one,’ he said dryly, completely unmoved by her outburst. ‘And in this case it means I hold all the right cards. Wouldn't you agree?'

‘I hate you, Mr Falcone. I hate you!'

‘No, you don't, Farrah. From this moment on you're going to love me, or at least pretend to. It's something I've found women are good at.'

‘I couldn't even pretend to love you,’ Farrah said hotly. ‘You're hateful!'

‘So you would prefer that I prosecute your father?'

‘No! You know I wouldn't,’ she said miserably.

Joel Falcone sighed impatiently. ‘You can't have it both ways, you know. Go through with this pretence and I drop the charges against your father, plus forget the twenty-five thousand pounds he owes me. You know the alternative.'

‘You consider this charade worth twenty-five thousand pounds!'

He nodded. ‘I simply don't want Laura involved in my business affairs any longer. No doubt she'll want more than the market value for those shares.'

‘And won't you mind paying it?'

He shrugged. ‘Why should I? She'll be out of my life, finally.'

‘That's some friendship you have there,’ she said dryly.

‘That's right, but I've just explained that to you.’ He stood up in one fluid movement. ‘Are you ready to leave now?'

Farrah also stood up, moving jerkily to the door. ‘My—my bag and jacket. I left them in the office. I can't just leave them there.'

‘That's all right. Angie wanted to talk to me about something anyway. You can collect your things while I talk to her.'

‘Oh, but I—–'

‘Do it, Farrah!’ he ordered impatiently. ‘Make your mind up to this, because once we step outside this room there'll be no turning back. Once you're committed you will follow this through to the end. And no one is to know it's pretence. You understand, no one! Not even your father.'

‘But I have to tell him,’ she said, horrified. ‘I can't let him think that I—–'

‘Not even your father, Farrah!’ he repeated firmly. ‘You can tell him when it's all over and not before. It shouldn't take long, a couple of months, no more.'

‘A couple of months!'

He looked at her with steady blue eyes, collecting a burgundy-coloured leather jacket from what appeared to be a cloakroom and shrugging his powerful shoulders unhurriedly inside. ‘A couple of weeks would hardly be convincing. The first few weeks we'll just make sure we're seen together in all the right places, later we'll progress to the occasional night spent together at my apartment.'

Farrah looked at his open-mouthed. ‘I couldn't do that! What would everyone think if I stayed at your apartment? What would my father think!'

‘Exactly what they're supposed to, I should imagine. Believe me, Laura won't be able to stand too much of that sort of treatment. She likes to think that any man she wants will come running when she calls.'

‘But you won't,’ she derided.

‘Not any more—if I ever did.'

‘You aren't the faithful type at all, are you?’ she saw his mouth tighten angrily. ‘I'm sorry, but you did say I wasn't to be sulky and angry.'

‘I didn't say you had to be rude instead. And no, I'm not the faithful type. I've yet to meet a woman who can make me feel possessive enough to feel the need to be a one-woman man.'

‘You consider women are only to be used and not loved?’ she asked interestedly.

He gave a mocking smile. ‘Oh, I love them.'

Farrah blushed. ‘I don't mean physically.'

‘I know that,’ he smiled at her embarrassment, a mocking smile that taunted. He shrugged. ‘No woman has ever proved to me to be any different, you're all money-grasping. A present pays for many things, but without them you get nothing.'

Farrah shook her head. ‘That isn't true, at least not on my part. No man has ever given me presents for services rendered.'

Joel Falcone's eyes raked mercilessly over her casual appearance. ‘Seeing you dressed like that, I can believe it.'

‘Well, you don't exactly look the part of the debonair millionaire yourself,’ she retorted tartly.

‘Perhaps not,’ he agreed. ‘Okay, let's go.’ He put a casual arm about her slim shoulders and felt her stiffen. ‘Once we step outside this door,’ he reminded her.

Farrah forced herself to accept his touch, resisting the impulse to move away from the closeness of his lithe athletic body. Not that it was unpleasant—that was the trouble. She found him much too attractive and dangerous this close to. And if his acting proved to be as superb as he said it would be she hated to think what would happen. His hand rested lightly on her shoulder and she could feel his warmth through her thin cotton shirt.

Those compelling blue eyes looked into her own apprehensive green ones. ‘All right?’ he asked softly.

‘All right,’ she agreed.

Joel Falcone opened the door for her, ushering her out of the office before him but managing to retain his hold on her. ‘Smile, Farrah,’ he said quietly. ‘I don't want Cathy to think I'm taking you out of here under duress.'

Farrah forced an almost natural smile on to her lips. all too much aware of the vital man at her side. His secretary, Cathy, glanced up from her typing to look at them, her eyes narrowing with surprise as she saw her employer's arm draped casually across Farrah's shoulders.

‘I'll be out for the rest of the day,’ Joel Falcone informed her smoothly. ‘Cancel the rest of my appointments for today, and for tomorrow morning.'

‘Yes, sir.’ Cathy looked puzzled by this strange turn of events. ‘Is there anywhere I can reach you if necessary?'

Joel looked at Farrah. ‘Under no circumstances am I to be disturbed,’ he drawled. ‘By anyone.'

Farrah walked out of the office with him, not having said a word, and the smile seemed fixed on her face. And this was just the start! ‘I'm not sure I can go through with this,’ she said shakily, moving away from him as they entered the lift together.

‘Too late,’ he said unconcernedly.

‘Has it ever occurred to you that I might have a boy-friend?’ she asked resentfully.

‘It did, but no protestations were forthcoming in that direction, so I assumed there wasn't a particular man in your life.'

‘But there is!'

‘Then he can't be very important to you or you would have mentioned him earlier. Forget him.’ He waited for her to precede him out of his private lift on to the sixth floor. ‘I already have.'

‘Are you always this dismissive of other people's happiness?'

‘Only when it's interwoven with mine. Look, Farrah, no one is going to be hurt by this pretence of ours. Laura just has a thing about becoming my wife at the moment. Once she realises it's no go she'll be glad to accept the money I'm offering her for her shares. Your father will stay free, you will have whatever I care to give you in presents during the next couple of months, and I—well, I will gain my freedom from a determined woman.'

‘And how do I tell Nigel I won't be seeing him any more?'

‘That's up to you.’ He stopped outside the door to her department. ‘I'll be with Angie only a matter of minutes, join us when you've collected your belongings.'

Joel Falcone caused quite a stir when he walked into the large open plan office that accommodated ten girls and Angie Preston who had her own separate office at the end of the room, but when Farrah followed him in all conversation ceased altogether and nine pairs of eyes were riveted on them.

‘I won't be long,’ Joel said huskily, but loud enough for people close to them to hear.

Farrah walked quickly to her desk, her head downbent as she gathered up her black velvet jacket and her denim shoulder bag. This was proving to be more embarrassing than she had imagined and she could hear a few whispers from her workmates now. Well, this was no good, she couldn't creep about like this all the time, and so flinging back her head almost defiantly she faced the girls in the office with pride and dignity. Fiona was looking at her with puzzled eyes and somehow Farrah managed to summon up a smile.

Fiona came over to her. ‘What's going on?’ she asked curiously.

‘I—er—I—It's rather awkward to explain—–’ She spotted Joel Falcone out of the corner of her eye as he made his way across the office to her side.

He smiled straight into her eyes and Farrah felt her heart lurch. It was a warm possessive smile and she couldn't help but respond to it. She didn't think this pretence was going to prove too difficult if he smiled at her like that too often, in fact it could prove too easy, much too easy, and it could end with her being very hurt by this man.

‘Ready to leave, honey?’ Again his arm slipped about her shoulders.

Farrah ignored the audible gasps coming from around the room. She nodded. ‘Ready,’ she agreed. ‘I'll talk to you tomorrow, Fiona.'

Complete silence followed their progress out of the room, but as soon as the door closed behind them Farrah could hear the sudden murmur of conversation. Joel Falcone gave a satisfied smile. ‘By five o'clock this evening the whole building should know about our little affair.'

Farrah pressed the lift button for the ground floor. ‘I don't see what good that's going to do, except embarrass me, of course. Miss Bennett is a famous actress, she doesn't go about gossiping with the staff.'

‘From little acorns …’ he quoted softly. ‘The more people who know about it the better. This way it will be more believable.'

‘If I don't believe it I don't see why anyone else should.'

‘They will.’ He studied her intently for several seconds. ‘Of course you don't look kissed as you ought to do,’ he took a step towards her, ‘but that can soon be remedied.'

‘No!’ Farrah backed away from him, more frightened that he might get a response than of the actual man himself. ‘I—I don't want to be kissed!'

He watched her through mocking eyes. ‘Why not?’ he asked softly.

‘Because—well, because I—I don't find you attractive.'

‘But you've already told me that you do find me attractive,’ he reminded.

‘I find a tiger attractive in the same way,’ she retorted hotly. ‘All right to look at from afar but too dangerous to touch.'

‘Dangerous?’ he repeated curiously. ‘What a strange word to use!'

‘But fitting, don't you agree?'

‘Maybe.’ He opened the lift doors with the touch of a button. ‘Try to look as if you aren't terrified of me—or I could just give you that kiss here in reception.'

‘You wouldn't!’ Her green eyes widened.

‘I wouldn't count on it,’ he said lazily, retaining a tight hold on her arm as they walked unhurriedly out of the building. A black Ferrari stood parked on the forecourt and Joel Falcone nodded dismissal of the commissionaire as he moved to open the doors for them. Joel himself saw Farrah seated in the passenger seat before climbing in beside her. ‘Comfortable?'

Farrah shifted about in the confines of the car, all too much aware of the man at her side. She could smell his aftershave and the clean male smell of him and her senses stirred unbidden. It was a fantastic car and completely suited to its sleek, confident owner. ‘Fine, thanks,’ she answered shortly.

‘Good.’ He put the car into gear.

‘Where are you taking me?’ Farrah asked with more confidence than she felt.

‘Home,’ Joel Falcone drawled. ‘Your home.'

‘Oh, but I thought—–'

‘I'm well aware of what you thought. I'm taking you home now and calling for you later. We're going to a nightclub I know.'

Farrah was completely fascinated by the harsh face of Joel Falcone, harsh and cynical and yet completely riveting. Deep lines of experience were etched from nose to mouth and his mouth had a cynical twist to it. He left her breathless and it took all her strength to answer him. ‘Tonight?’ she squeaked, swallowing convulsively at the thought of spending the evening with him.

‘Sure, tonight.’ Those deep blue eyes raked over her pale face, eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes that should have looked effeminate but didn't. ‘You weren't going anywhere else, were you?'

Farrah gave a wan smile. ‘If I were I'm sure you would tell me to break it.'

To her surprise he smiled too, a warm natural smile that reached his eyes. ‘You learn fast, young Farrah Halliday. Were you going out?'

‘No,’ she admitted reluctantly.

‘Then you won't need to break it, will you. Are you going to tell your father about me? Oh, not of our agreement, but that we'll be going out together.'

‘Not until I have to.’ She blushed as she realised how bad that sounded.

Joel Falcone frowned heavily. ‘Do you think that's wise? It could come as quite a shock to him to learn from someone else that his little girl is having a full-scale affair with someone like me. If he's as ill as you say he is then the knowledge can't be going to help him.'

‘Exactly,’ Farrah said dryly.

‘And it will be even worse coming from a stranger, or worse still, a newspaper. And how will your mother feel about it?'

It was a perfectly natural question in the circumstances, and yet Farrah felt a sharp pain at his casually spoken words. ‘My mother is dead,’ she said quietly. ‘And I hope you'll leave it to me to tell my father.'

‘I have no intention of seeing your father, when and how you tell him is up to you.’ He stopped the car before the block of flats where she lived with her father. ‘Can you be ready by eight-thirty?'

‘I should think so,’ she laughed lightly. ‘It's only four o'clock, it doesn't take me four and a half hours to get ready. What—what do you want me to wear?’ His steady gaze unnerving her and she fidgeted unnecessarily.

‘We'll be going to a nightclub, quite an exclusive one. Do you have anything suitable?'

‘Yes,’ she snapped, stung by his condescension. ‘Don't worry, I won't disgrace you.'

‘I've arranged for you to go to a salon tomorrow and choose a new wardrobe. That's the reason I told Angie you would be late in the morning.'

‘I don't want anything like that from you,’ she told him angrily. ‘I can buy my own clothes, thank you.'

‘I'm sure you can. Consider these part of your payment.'

‘I don't want anything from you,’ she repeated firmly. ‘Not your expensive presents or your clothes. Letting my father go free will be enough. And I can promise you that I'll pay as much of your money back as I can.'

‘Did you know your eyes flash in the most tantalising way when you're angry?’ he said huskily, ignoring her outrage and fiercely spoken words.

Farrah blushed fiery red. ‘Don't prevaricate,’ she said stiffly.

‘Is that what I was doing?'

‘You know you were. I mean it, Mr Falcone, I won't accept anything from you.'

He turned away from her. ‘Please yourself. I have an appointment in half an hour,’ he said pointedly.

‘I'm sorry!’ She looked at him nervously. ‘You'll be back at eight-thirty?'

‘Yes. And as you don't want me to meet your father you'd better come down here.'

‘Very well.'

Farrah hesitated about going up to the flat just yet; her father wouldn't be expecting her home for at least another hour and he would obviously wonder why she was home so early. She could hardly tell him that Joel Falcone had brought her. No, that wouldn't do at all.

She walked back in the direction of the town. She had her cheque book with her, and although she had told Joel Falcone that she had a suitable dress, she didn't really. It had been a show of bravado on her part and even though the sort of gown he would expect his companion to wear would make a great hole in her savings she had no intention of letting him see her in anything but the best.

The gowns she looked at were very beautiful, and very expensive, and she tried on several before making her final choice. It had to be something sophisticated, but not too old for her, and the black gown seemed to fit both those requirements. It was what she would call slinky, clinging in all the right places and yet retaining an air of mystery. The thin satin shoulder straps did not allow for a bra, but as she had never had any qualms about the suppleness of her body this didn't concern her too much. The low neckline made the dark curve of her breasts just visible, but the bareness of her throat alleviated the darkness of the dress.

It had just gone five when she entered the flat and her father was just in the middle of making a cup of tea. He smiled at her as she sat down tiredly in an armchair. ‘Been shopping?’ he indicated the bag in the chair beside her.

‘A new dress,’ she explained.

‘You're going out tonight, then?’ he asked interestedly.

‘Yes. You're going over to see Uncle Ben, aren't you?'

‘Mmm, we'll probably sink a few jars at the local and talk ourselves silly like we usually do.'

‘You know you enjoy yourself,’ she smiled.

‘Farrah, I don't want to seem too inquisitive, but did you talk to Joel Falcone today?'

‘He spoke to me,’ she corrected. ‘I'm sorry, I should have told you earlier.’ So much had happened since she left home this morning that she had completely forgotten her father's anguish. ‘Joel Falcone has agreed to drop the charges.'

‘Oh, that's wonderful!’ exclaimed her father. ‘At what price?’ he asked shrewdly.

Farrah evaded her father's questing look. ‘No price, Daddy.'

‘No price! But I—– He must have a reason for this, Farrah! Unless you told him about your mother—–'

‘No!’ she denied sharply. ‘I didn't tell him anything.'

‘Then I don't understand,’ he shook his head.

Farrah shrugged, standing up impatiently. ‘Perhaps I just caught him in a good mood, Daddy. Everything should be sorted out within the next few days.'

‘Did he say anything about my job?'

‘No, he didn't! But I should think you'll be sacked, don't you?’ she said shrilly. ‘It was a silly thing to do and it'll probably ruin the rest of your life.’ And mine, she groaned inwardly. ‘Mummy wouldn't have wanted you to do it and you know it. I know it was for her, Daddy, but she would hate to know what trouble you've brought upon yourself.'

‘Your mother always had second best, Farrah, she didn't deserve to die that way too.'

This was an old argument and one Farrah always lost. She had loved her mother too, and if she had died believing the money for her private nursing came from an insurance policy then perhaps it was all to the good. ‘I could have left work and nursed her, Daddy. You know I wanted to.'

‘She didn't want that. You're young, Farrah, nursing your mother would have cut you off from your friends, denied you a proper social life. Your mother wanted you to enjoy your youth.'

‘And I have, Daddy, but this threat over our heads is worse than any hardship I might have had nursing Mummy. I loved her too, you know!'

Her father put a comforting arm about her shoulders. ‘It was better this way, poppet. Your mother died having had all the medical and nursing care there was available. The trip to Switzerland was the most expensive, but I had to make sure the English doctors were right when they said there was no hope.'

‘But company money, Daddy!'

‘I know,’ he said wearily. ‘I know it was wrong. I still have a couple of thousand of it, Farrah, I can give that back,’ he added almost eagerly.

‘A couple of thousand! That won't even dent the twenty-five thousand. He's a powerful man, Daddy, you should have known better than to try and trick him.'

‘I wasn't tricking him personally, only the company.'

‘He is the company.'

‘You're a good child, Farrah, but if I had the same odds against me again I would have to act the same way. I'd have to, do you understand?'

Farrah hugged her father tightly, blinking away her tears as she looked at him. ‘I understand, Daddy, but it doesn't make things any easier. I still have to work there and people ask me how you are every day. I never know what to say. They all want to know when you'll be well enough to go back to work.'

‘I know it's hard for you, Farrah, but you could always leave. You have the experience behind you now, you could easily get a job with another company.'

She shook her head. ‘I don't think so, Daddy.’ Joel Falcone wouldn't allow it, for one thing. This way he had easy access to her, and also to cause a stir among his own numerous staff. No, the time to change her job would be when all this was over, that would be when she needed her privacy the most. During the next few months she was going to be known as Joel Falcone's new woman, and the reason for the abrupt end of his friendship with Laura Bennett. God, what a mess!

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