stood up slowly as her office door was flung open, the man himself standing there, very dark and attractive in an iron-grey pin-striped suit. His eyes narrowed on her, and Charly tried to see herself as he must see her, the long golden hair confined in a neat pleat at the back of her head, the black business suit and white blouse with its bow-neckline smart rather than feminine. She looked completely different from the woman he had met the previous evening.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Hart.’ Sarah glared at Aaron Grantley. ‘He just pushed past me,’ she muttered indignantly.
‘It’s all right, Sarah,’ she soothed. ‘I’ll deal with Mr Grantley myself,’ she added hardly.
The green eyes glittered vengefully. ‘I know we argued last night, sweetheart,’ he murmured huskily, crossing the room to her side, ‘but I don’t think that’s any reason to be so formal.’ He put his arm about her waist to pull her close to the hardness of his body. ‘After all, we are engaged to be married,’ he said challengingly, his head bending down to hers.
Charly only had tome to register Sarah’s gasp of surprise before coolly firm lips claimed hers, his arms about her, one of his hands pressed to the back of her head, preventing her moving away. He kissed her with deliberate thoroughness, savouring the taste of her lips, the probing of his tongue only withdrawn as Charly’s small white teeth bit down sharply on the tender flesh.
‘Vixen!’ he grated before turning to Sarah with a totally charming smile. ‘A lovers’ quarrel,’ he drawled.
Sarah looked totally disconcerted, and Charly couldn’t blame her!
‘Mr Grantley—–’
‘Sweetheart, do stop calling me that.’ His eyes promised retribution if she didn’t! ‘And do let this young lady leave so that we don’t embarrass her any further with our disagreement.’
Charly gave him a furious look before turning to her secretary. ‘Thank you, Sarah.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘I can handle this now.’
‘Can you?’ Aaron Grantley challenged softly’ after Sarah had left them, the younger woman still frowning her confusion.
‘Yes,’ she snapped, moving pointedly away from him. ‘I gather you’ve spoken to Matt.’
‘Graphically,’ he drawled.
‘I’m sure,’ her mouth twisted. ‘So now you know I’m the “rich bitch” who is trying to ruin your bid for Shevton House.’
He grinned, looking about the room appreciatively ‘Mrs Hart apparently likes to surround herself with luxury,’ he derided.
‘Mrs Hart earned this luxury,’ she told him tightly, taking the bronze sculpture of a horse out of his hand and placing it back on her desk-top.
‘That isn’t what I heard,’ he mocked, stretching his long length out in one of the armchairs, watching her through narrowed lids. ‘You took over when your husband died. Which brings me to the point of why you lied about your name yesterday,’ he added sharply.
‘I didn’t lie.’ Her eyes flashed silver. ‘My name is Allenby.’
‘Was,’ Aaron Grantley corrected abruptly. ‘Before you married the son of your father’s business partner seven years ago. Maybe you did earn this company after all,’ he derided. ‘The marriage was certainly a convenient one.’ He raised mocking brows.
‘I don’t have to explain myself to you—–’
‘I doubt Rocharlle Hart ever explains herself to anyone. How did you ever get a name like Rocharlle, anyway?’ he taunted.
‘My parents.’
‘That’s obvious,’ he dismissed mockingly. ‘But it isn’t what I meant.’
‘Rowena and Charles,’ she explained impatiently. ‘When they were told I was to be an only child they named me after both of them.’
‘It would have been easier to call you Charlotte after your father,’ Aaron Grantley derided.
It would have been a lot less embarrassing too; her unusual first name had been a talking point all her life. ‘You didn’t come here to talk about my name—–’
‘In part I did,’ his voice hardened. ‘Why didn’t you tell me last night who you were?’
‘For the same reason you came here today and acted as if our engagement were a reality; which incidentally I want you to correct before you leave—I was angry,’ she bit out. ‘Matt innocently told you I was staying at his apartment, and then because you were told it was a woman and not a man as you had supposed you assumed I had to be his mistress.’
He shrugged broad shoulders, perfectly relaxed. ‘I’m still not sure that isn’t true.’
Charly gasped. ‘I thought you said you had spoken to Matt?’
‘I have,’ he nodded. ‘But like you, he doesn’t feel he has to explain himself. He’s mad as hell at both Molly and me for jumping to conclusions,’ he added ruefully.
‘He’s told Molly the truth?’
‘Not exactly,’ Aaron Grantley derided. ‘Apparently she’s a little emotional at the moment, and he seems to think we’ve complicated the situation by pretending to be engaged, believes that if he told her the truth now Molly would think he had something to hide.’
Charly sighed. ‘I’m inclined to agree with him.’
‘I’m willing to accept that,’ Aaron Grantley nodded. ‘Although Molly’s emotional state seems a little convenient to me.’
She gave him a disparaging look. ‘Are you always this suspicious?’
‘Only when I find a beautiful woman staying at my best friend’s apartment,’ he drawled.
‘I hope to be moving out at the end of the week,’ Charly snapped.
‘To go where?’
‘My own home, of course,’ she told him impatiently.
‘Ah yes, the one that’s been damaged by fire.’
‘Mr Grantley, I don’t care for your tone—–’
‘And I don’t care for this whole charade,’ he rasped, his eyes bright with anger. ‘Especially now that I know the woman I’m engaged to is also the woman who’s interfering in my property deal.’
‘There are some that would say you have that the wrong way around, Mr Grantley,’ she returned coldly.
‘Aaron,’ he instructed tensely. ‘Shevton was on the point of accepting my offer when you came along with a better one,’ he scowled.
‘And you counter-offered.’
‘And so did you,’ he ground out. ‘How high are you prepared to go?’
‘I don’t believe that is any
