gather he was a terrible disappointment to his parents.’
Deep silence. And then she heard the clink of glasses. He walked round, handed her a small whisky, took his own and dropped down onto the end of the sofa, angled into the corner, facing her, his clever eyes intent. He leaned forward, his hands between his spread knees, his glass held loosely in one hand.
‘Tell me about him. He’s your boss’s brother? He works for the company?’
‘If you could call what he does work.’ She tried to answer lightly, even though she felt she had been tied down in the witness-box, that every word she said would be carefully measured and weighed.
But at least she was on marginally safer ground now that his immediate attention had been deflected away from court action whereby, even though the lies would be refuted, the grain of truth would be revealed, painting her guilty as sin.
‘His job title is sales director, but his job actually appears to consist of long, boozy lunches with anyone angling for a free meal.’ She took a small sip from her glass, grateful for the warmth, the tiny measure of Dutch courage. She needed it. Hugh Caldwell’s vicious tongue was not going to spoil everything for her. She wouldn’t let it!
‘And your boss—his brother, right?—puts up with it?’ He sounded disbelieving and she couldn’t blame him. He didn’t know the full story.
‘James. Yes, he puts up with it.’ Unknowingly, her voice had softened, the strained lines of her face easing under the influence of a tiny smile.
She admired James Caldwell and would do almost anything for him. Their relationship had many levels. He had helped her when she’d been emotionally bankrupt. Her loyalty, both personal and in her capacity as his PA, was absolute.
‘Why?’ The question was blunt, the expression she surprised at the back of his brooding eyes smacked of aggression, and something else. Suspicion. Olivia sighed wretchedly and set her glass aside.
‘Family duty, perhaps. Who’s to tell?’ She shrugged her slim shoulders, knowing that whatever she said about James Caldwell would only fuel the embers of the argument they’d had much earlier. After hearing that wretched man’s evil gossip, Nathan’s desire to see her quit her job would be set in stone.
‘Hugh is six years younger than James and he’s always resented James for being the first-born, the brainy, good-looking son. Add to that the fact that James took over the reins of Caldwell Engineering when their father had a massive stroke ten years ago and pulled it from the bottom of the league to the top. Plus, when James’s godfather died he left him a huge private fortune. Mix that lot up with a hefty dose of sexual jealousy—Hugh took a girlfriend home and she and James promptly fell in love and married six months later—and you have a recipe for resentment and spite.’
‘So because he’s the underdog in the Caldwell setup, a loser, he spread malicious lies about his brother,’ Nathan said, his astute eyes pinning her down. ‘That figures. But why involve you?’
Olivia sucked in a sharp little breath. Her skin was burning beneath the cool white fabric of her dress. She would have given anything if they could have put the clock back, decided to stay home tonight, as she told him quietly, ‘Just before I was promoted to James’s PA, Hugh made a heavy pass. I was married—Max was still alive—but that didn’t make any difference, not to him! Needless to say, I told him where he could go. He’s probably hated me ever since.’
She tried to make it sound like nothing much, because if Nathan knew what had really happened he wouldn’t rest until he’d exacted every last scrap of retribution.
But even though she’d tried to make light of the revolting incident, to pretend it hadn’t been important, Nathan slapped his untouched glass down on the coffee-table and jerked to his feet. After pacing the room, he swung round to face her at last.
‘So that excuses everything, does it?’ he demanded. ‘Just because he habitually loses out we must all turn a blind eye to the vicious lies he spreads all over the place.’ There was no warmth in his eyes, his rawly sensual mouth pulled back against his teeth with grinding frustration. ‘You don’t have to put it into words. I can read your every thought. So confirm it for me, Liwy—you don’t want to take this any further. Right?’
Her violet eyes were dark compared with the pallor of her face. She met him head-on. ‘I don’t see the point. As long as you don’t believe his lies, I simply don’t see the point. He’s an unimportant, vindictive little man and no one with an ounce of sense takes him seriously.’ She stood up, weariness washing through her, making her sway. ‘I’ll talk to James about it on Monday. Ask his opinion.’
And she felt her breath make a solid, painful lump in her throat as he lashed back, ‘At the same time you hand in your resignation? Why should his opinion be more important than mine?’
Love him to pieces she certainly did, but that didn’t mean she could excuse unfairness. The question of her resignation was far from settled, and he knew it. It was what their first fight had been about; did he think she’d forgotten?
But now wasn’t the time to re-introduce that contentious subject so she simply pointed out, ‘Ordinarily, of course not. But he is involved. And there’s his wife to consider. I think they should be consulted before you start shouting for litigation, don’t you?’ She raked a hand through her hair, sick of the subject. ‘I’m tired; I’m going to bed.’
And, for the first time in their wildly passionate relationship, he didn’t follow, just watched the unknowingly sexy sway of her body with hard, assessing eyes.
Olivia, lying awake in the soft, king-sized bed some twenty minutes later, wondered desperately if things would ever be the same between them again, or if Hugh’s vile tongue had sown the seeds of suspicion, seeds that would grow and spread, smothering all that had been so bright and beautiful between them, turning all that consuming passion to dust.
CHAPTER TWO
PERHAPS she had overreacted, Olivia thought, looking up with the new-day optimism that had helped her survive the bad years with Max.
And then she remembered and her heart dropped nauseatingly. Nathan hadn’t joined her until the early hours, slipping between the sheets beside her, keeping woodenly to his side of the king-sized bed, being very careful not to touch her.
He was punishing her for what Hugh had said in his drunken spite, as if he’d believed every damaging word. His lack of trust appalled her. What chance did their marriage have if he became a stranger at the first stroke of trouble? No, worse than a stranger—an enemy!
Not knowing which emotion took precedence, the anger over his insulting lack of trust or the gut-wrenching misery, she squirmed up against the pillows. She saw him standing at the foot of the bed, his tanned, fantastic body gilded by the June sunlight that streamed through the open window, vigorously rubbing his wet, dark hair with a crisp white towel, making it stand up in endearing spikes.
Despite her savagely raging emotions, her body jerked in immediate wild response. He was so gorgeous; he was everything her body, her heart and soul craved. She couldn’t drag her eyes away. Her skin burned beneath the lazy, sexy scrutiny of his eyes.
He dropped the towel slowly and came to the side of the bed. Her breath thickened in her throat. Six feet three inches of daunting male perfection, lean, hard and perfectly proportioned. He had the brand of graceful strength that made her mouth go dry.
