the suavely elegant look of him, the clothes he wore, he was used to nothing but the very best. Whatever he had in mind it wouldn’t be small change.
‘I see Dominic and Vanessa have been getting at you.’ His beautiful mouth curved humourlessly but there were disconcerting lights in those slightly hooded green eyes that made Selina’s breath catch in her throat. She turned her head quickly, looking into the fire, her pure, disdainful profile brushed by the warm glow, revealing the entrancing imperfection of a too short, curling upper lip, the full pout of the generous, made-to-be-kissed mouth. And he continued in that rough velvet voice, as if the question he posed was purely academic, ‘I take it your cousin and aunt have also been unexpectedly called away from home?’
How unexpectedly he would never know, not if she could help it. And she despised herself for the way his voice, his looks, his sheer male animal magnetism could make something move deep inside her. This man was her uncle’s enemy, for heaven’s sake! Merely learning of his intention to visit had been enough to give the elderly man a heart attack! So why did her wretched body react as if this was the one man she had spent her life waiting for when her brain informed her that he was poison?
Her throat was too tight with a disgusting amalgam of sexual awareness and self-hatred to facilitate a verbal response to his question, so she merely nodded, unable to prevent the sideways slant of anguished eyes as they sought his own.
‘Then I’m left with no option but to deal with you. Not that that will be any hardship, believe me.’ The smoky sexuality of his voice made her heart punch beneath her breastbone, and her hand flew up, as if to steady that wayward organ, and she saw his sultry eyes follow the betraying gesture and went hot all over, her flesh burning.
Belatedly, she hauled herself together and clipped out, ‘Fine.’ He was all too aware of his masculine potency, of its devastating effect, well used to using it very deliberately when it suited him. And if he thought she’d be a push-over simply because of her gender then that gave her the advantage, didn’t it? He would expect her to bend beneath the onslaught of his undoubted attractions, to move to his side of the fence, dragged there by the strength of the magnetic forcefield that surrounded him. He wasn’t to know that she would fight for Martin’s well-being with every last weapon at her command.
And he was at it again, using that spurious, facile charm as he told her softly, ‘I’ve heard a great deal about you. All of it—interesting.’
Which was a blatant lie. Her job within the company wasn’t that high-profile; she did it to the best of her considerable ability but, as yet, it hadn’t earned her space in the glossies! And when did a man, such a potently masculine one at that, interest himself in the stocking of women’s boutiques? And information about her wouldn’t have come from his father, from the family. They couldn’t bear to mention his name, much less take him into their confidence.
Clutching at the relief that came from catching him in an outright lie, she was able to consolidate her position of antagonist. Ignoring his lying statement for the flannel it was, she enquired coolly, her eyes watching his impressive features for any sign that might reveal the devious workings of his mind, ‘So what is it you want?’ and immediately regretted the unfortunate choice of words because his eyes made that silent and very intimate appraisal of her body again while his mouth curved in a slow smile that battered her senses, making her wonder how she would feel if those lips were ever to cover her own. And he didn’t give her time to recover her equilibrium, to force the disgust for the type of man he was to smother the growing disgust she felt for herself before he was translating his silent appraisal into words.
‘Dinner with you tomorrow night.’
‘You must be mad!’ The words came out on a jerk of heated breath, colour rushing over her face, staying there as he rose smoothly to his feet, looking down on her, his eyes held in seeming fascination on the hectic pulse-beat at the base of her throat.
‘Mad, to want to get to know a beautiful woman a great deal better?’ He shook his dark head in a parody of amazement, devils glinting out of his eyes. ‘Even if she is a hell-cat.’ He turned the full force of his mega-watt smile on her. ‘But maybe that’s a major part of the fascination?’
She ignored all that for the rubbish it was and repeated stonily, ‘Just what was so important about your need to see Martin? Tell me that, and I’ll tell you you can’t have whatever it is you think you need, and then you can go away.’ And never come back, she tacked on in her mind, schooling her features to stony blankness.
And he laughed at her, he actually put back his head and roared his amusement and, if she could, she would have killed him for that alone. But what came next was worse, so much worse that she was left bereft of speech as he calmly walked out of the room after delivering, ‘I’ve already told you. I want to see more of you. Much more.’ The lilt in his wicked eyes underlined the ambiguity of that remark and his voice was a rich caress as he told her, ‘Dine with me tomorrow night, for starters. Be ready at eight. And if you’re thinking of making yourself unavailable then I suggest you winkle Dominic out from wherever he’s skulking and ask him if he knows of any reason why you should refuse to meet my demands exactly.’
* * *
‘What was he getting at, Dom?’ Selina shuddered as an icy blast of winter wind gusted across the hospital car park. She pulled up the collar of her coat, her troubled eyes holding her cousin’s. ‘Why should I see him tonight? Why should I do a single damn thing he suggests?’
Dominic shrugged, his eyes evasive, and, although she had repeated the gist of the conversation she’d had with Adam Tudor the previous night, right down to his parting directive, she sensed her cousin was holding something back, something that was giving him private nightmares.
‘Are you sure he didn’t give a hint about what he wanted, why he had to see Father?’
Dominic looked almost haunted, Selina thought on an inner shudder. But who could blame him? The trauma of Martin’s sudden attack, seeing him lying in that lonely hospital bed, surrounded by wires and machines, his face grey and gaunt, had upset her more than she could say. Even the threat that was Adam Tudor had taken second place in her consciousness, so no wonder Dominic looked haunted, seemingly unable to offer any help.
But Adam Tudor would have to be dealt with, somehow, and she would be the one to do it because she owed it to her family, she reminded herself, shivering again beneath the renewed onslaught of the bitter wind. She thrust her cold hands deeper into her coat pockets and shook her head, telling him rawly, ‘No, nothing. I did ask but he didn’t say.’ Her golden eyes darkened, a frown drawing her strong brows together. ‘Just that rather threatening invitation to dinner, and the suggestion that I should ask you if you knew of any reason why I shouldn’t do exactly as he said. I’ve no intention of going, of course. The proverbial wild horses wouldn’t drag me.’
‘I think you should,’ Dominic told her quickly, and her long-lidded eyes narrowed astutely.
‘Why?’
‘To find out what he’s really after, of course. What else?’ His face looked white and pinched, and no wonder, Selina thought with sudden sympathy. He would be as worried about his father as anyone, and this desolate car park, the raw grey January skies, the unpleasant subject of their conversation was enough to make anyone look as if the miseries of the world were pressing down on his shoulders.
She suggested gently, ‘He’s after something. I agree with you there. And we have to discover what it is and keep him away from Martin. But it would be better if we presented a united front. You and I could face him together tonight. He said he’d be at the house at eight.’
‘That’s
