which was glowing with seasonal warmth and which, Seth had told her on hte way there, served exquisitely cooked meals throughout the day.
‘I hadn’t realised how hungry I was,’ she accepted reluctantly as she tucked into a home-made lasagne with salad and huge chunks of crusty bread, while Seth had a gammon steak with all the trimmings.
‘I thought you might want to see this,’ he said when they had finished.
It was an email addressed to Seth, from the customers that Grace had visited in New York, agreeing to continue to trade with Culverwells now that it was under Mason’s corporate umbrella.
‘That must make you feel quite smug,’ she remarked, unable to keep the edge out of her voice.
‘Not at all.’ He wiped his mouth with his napkin, laid it down on the table. ‘The PR job you did in New York obviously paid off.’ So he was acknowledging now that she hadn’t flown off to the Big Apple just to go designer shopping, as he’d originally accused her of doing. ‘And I’m in this simply to restore Culverwells to a healthy balance sheet.’
‘And to make yourself even more millions while doing so.’
‘Well, naturally. I’m a businessman,’ he stressed, pushing his empty plate forward before sitting back on his chair. ‘That would obviously come into the equation. But one thing I’m not in this business for is to antagonise you.’
‘Really?’ She looked at him dubiously, picking up her glass of sparkling water, which reflected the festive, coloured lights adorning the bar. ‘You could have fooled me.’
‘That’s a totally separate issue,’ he stated, ignoring the jibe. ‘One thing I learned on the road to where I am now is never to let personal and business dealings overlap. Did you know your grandfather took risks in other areas that weren’t always to the good of the company?’
His question, coming out of the blue, threw her for a moment. She looked at him over her glass, a mixture of puzzlement and wounded accusation in her eyes.
‘My grandfather would never have done anything underhanded.’
‘I’m not saying he did.’ He had ordered one small glass of wine for himself—rich and ruby red—which left tears around the bowl as he finished drinking, and put the glass back down on the oak-stained table. ‘He invested unwisely—with the best intentions, I’m sure, but against the advice of more circumspect members of his board. By then his judgement was probably clouded by more…personal matters.’ Which, as he had already pointed out, he himself would never allow to happen. ‘Ones that, I believe he realised at the end, hadn’t really been worth risking his company for.’
He meant Corinne, but Grace wasn’t sure what else he was driving at.
‘What do you mean?’ she queried, her forehead pleating.
‘Did you know that your grandfather had made an appointment with his solicitor for the day after he died with the intention of changing his will?’ Grace felt the colour drain from her face. ‘You didn’t.’ Amazingly, that strong-boned face was etched with something almost close to commiseration.
She shook her head several times as though to clear it. ‘How did you find out?’
‘I have my sources.’
Of course. He would have access to everything now—letters. Files. Company diaries. Even her, if she allowed herself to succumb to that lethal attraction.
‘Perhaps he realised the mistake he was making and had decided to do something about it,’ he said.
But instead he had had that heart attack, and his real wishes had never been known. She wondered if Seth was thinking what she was—that if Lance Culverwell hadn’t died when he had things could have been so different. Grace would probably have control of the company, and Seth could never have taken it over as he had.
‘I’m afraid all your admirable efforts to save Culverwells wouldn’t have amounted to anything without the injection of cash it sorely needed for reinvestment,’ she heard Seth telling her, as if he knew the path her thoughts had taken.
Which only a man with his obvious wealth and influence could provide, she acknowledged reluctantly.
‘Be careful,’ she murmured. She was choked by her feelings for the grandfather she’d been unable to help believing had let her down, on top of a barrage of conflicting emotions towards the man sitting opposite her—although for reasons she didn’t dare to question. ‘That sounded suspiciously like a compliment.’
‘Your ability as a businesswoman, Grace, has never been in any doubt.’
She made a sceptical sound down her nostrils. ‘But other aspects of my character have?’ When an elevated eyebrow was his only response, she went on, ‘Anyway, that isn’t what you said the day you took over Culverwells.’
‘I know what I said,’ he rasped. ‘That was before I’d had a chance to study just how hard you’ve worked and how much you’ve put into the firm, given of yourself, to get the best out of your fellow directors and your staff.’ He lifted his glass again. ‘I salute you, Grace. It isn’t every day, in my experience, one comes across such single-minded dedication—particularly in a woman. And before you say I’m being sexist—’ he put up his other hand, staving off the retort that was teetering on her lips ‘—I’m not. I merely stated in my own experience. Most of the women I’ve known in top management have had to split their time between their jobs and their families, particularly their children, which makes it very hard to remain ruthlessly single-minded indefinitely. You, fortunately, have had no such distractions.’
‘No.’ With a rueful curl to her mouth she looked down at her glass, wondering what he would have said had he known that if fate hadn’t intervened she would have had a child now. And not just any child. His child.
‘Come on,’ he said, surprisingly gently, perhaps sensing her sudden change of mood, probably thinking it was because of losing her previous position in the company. ‘I’ll take you home.’
The gallery lights below her flat had only just gone out when the huge white car pulled up outside.
‘Beth’s been working late,’ Grace commented, getting out of the car just as the gallery door opened and the curvy little brunette came out.
Exchanging a few words with her friend, Grace couldn’t help noticing the way Beth looked appreciatively at Seth who was moving around the bonnet of the gleaming white Mercedes.
‘How do you do it?’ she whispered to Grace, clearly awestruck.
Reluctantly, because Seth had overheard, Grace introduced Beth to him. What woman was safe from him? she despaired as the two of them shook hands and the gallery manager seemed to visibly melt beneath Seth’s devastating smile.
‘So, you’re the Seth Mason I’ve been hearing all about!’ All smiles herself, Beth sounded slightly breathless as she let Seth know with that unusually tactless remark that Grace had been discussing him with her. ‘Didn’t I see you at the opening night?’ She looked at Grace then back to the tall, rather untamed-looking man beside her for confirmation.
‘It’s…possible,’ Seth answered rather evasively.
‘It’s
