coming, aren’t you, George?’ Her own tone had sharpened, as if she suspected a possible flaw in her carefully laid plans.
‘Yes, I’m coming,’ Georgia hastened to reassure her. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
She hoped she sounded convincing. There was nothing her mother liked less than the suspicion that all was not right in her rather restricted world. But certainly Anna’s concern seemed to have eased.
‘And you’re bringing someone?’
With her own feelings still see-sawing up and down on that particular topic, Georgia could only manage an inarticulate murmur that might have been agreement in reply.
‘Someone special?’
‘Could be—’
It was an effort to keep her voice light. Her parentsher mother in particular-would definitely regard Lucas Mallory as ‘someone special’. The problem was, could she bring herself to ask him to act as her escort now? And even if she did, would he even consider going to the party with her?
The plan that had appeared so attractive and simple at the outset now seemed to be as fraught with difficulties as a trip to the moon, and on the attraction scale it ranked somewhere well below a mouldy apple riddled with maggots.
‘Anyway, we’ll meet him next week, won’t we, darling?’
Next week. Georgia dragged herself back to the present with a swift mental shake. The party was barely ten days away. So if she wanted Lucas to act as her escort—and after all that was why she’d laid out so much money at the auction—she had better stop vacillating and make up her mind pronto.
If. But did she have any alternative? There wasn’t exactly a long queue of handsome, wealthy, successful men lining up at her door, all panting for the honour of escorting her to her father’s damned birthday party!
There was only one thing for it, she told herself, and, not pausing long enough to allow for the possibility of second thoughts, she moved purposefully towards the phone, pressing the numbers that were etched into her memory with stiff, jerky movements that echoed the state of her feelings.
‘Mallory.’
‘Ohe—’
If she acknowledged the truth, she hadn’t expected any answer, at least, not from the man himself. She had deliberately chosen his work number, reasoning that at this time of the evening he was unlikely actually to be in his office so that she could leave a message on the answering machine, or possibly with a late-working secretary, either of which she would have found much easier than having to respond to that clipped, curt greeting.
‘Hello?’
His voice, not warm at the start, had taken on a distinctly icy edge, one that was too uncomfortably reminiscent of bis last words to her for comfort.
‘Look, is this some sort of nuisance—?’
‘No!’
At last the paralysis that had held her tongue frozen seemed to ease, so that she was able to break in on him hastily. She couldn’t bear to think that he might slam the phone down on her, cutting her off so that it would all have to be done again.
‘I was expecting a receptionist or…’
‘Everyone’s gone home but me. I’m not such a slavedriver that I keep my staff working at this time of night, even if I have to. But if you don’t want to speak to me—’
‘No, wait—please, Mr Mallory!’
The silence that greeted her stumbling words was distinctly unnerving. For a long, fraught moment she had the uneasy feeling that, knowing who she was, he might still cut her off, but then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
‘My dear Georgia—’
If his silence had been disconcerting, then his laughter and the mocking note in his voice when he finally spoke did nothing to restore any sort of sense of balance. It certainly went no way towards making her feel that his attitude towards her had mellowed in any way since the night of the auction.
‘You remember me.’
And he recalled her clearly enough to recognise her voice on just those few words. Georgia couldn’t begin to decide how that made her feel.
‘Of course I do,’ that attractive voice murmured silkily in her ear. ‘How could I ever forget my beautiful mistress, particularly when our previous meeting was—’
‘Mistress!’ Georgia exploded, belatedly realising just what he had said. ‘I am no such thing!’
‘No?’ The smooth voice was filled with a carefully assumed tone of innocence—hurt innocence at that! ‘What else would you call someone who owns me outright, so that I am nothing but her slave, bought and paid for.?’
Dear God, she could only pray that he was alone in his office. Her cheeks flamed at simply imagining what anyone else might think at overhearing his side of the conversation.
‘Oh, you mean the auction!’
Georgia couldn’t decide which feeling was uppermost in her mind, the rush of relief at realising just what Lucas meant, or the shockingly sensual reaction that had run along her nerves like an electric current, tightening her scalp and making all the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck lift in instinctive response.
‘I mean that I am yours, body and soul, completely in your power.’
‘Will you please stop this?’
Georgia prayed that she didn’t sound quite as desperate as she felt. This was like some sort of obscene phone call, except that the sensations his words aroused in her were definitely not the fear and disgust she would have felt if that were the case.
‘You were the one who asked me to ring you if I wanted to talk business.’
‘Oh, business—’
It was as if she had flung a bucket of icy water in his face, driving all trace of warmth from his voice and leaving it cold and hard.
‘Of course, I was forgetting you want to keep things on a strictly formal footing. In that case, just what can I do to help you, Ms Harding?’
Once again Georgia was a prey to conflicting feelings. She was stunned to find herself mourning the loss of the warmly sensual tone, while knowing all the time that it had been just a carefully assumed pretence, with no foundation in fact.
But what really worried her was the fact that the way he spoke should affect her in any way at all. After all, they were complete strangers, destined only to connect with each other very briefly before moving on again on separate paths, like two ships that pass in the night.
Or at least that was how she hoped their relationship would be. Certainly, it was how she would make sure it would be if she had her way!
‘I’d like to discuss our—our—’
Furious with her hesitation, she hunted frantically for the right word.
