form he’d carried in with him. It was a full minute before he glanced up at her.
‘So how may I help you, Miss Montgomery?’ he asked quite curtly.
The dean had spoken to her in a similarly cool fashion when she’d gone to him for permission to repeat the year. Yet he’d warmed to her soon enough once she smiled at him.
Justine found that same smile, flashing it for all its worth at the loans officer. ‘I have a business proposition to put to your bank, Mr Hampton. I think it’s a very good proposition and one which would benefit both of us.’
Marcus just sat there for a long moment, frozen to the chair.
She thought he was Wade Hampton.
Understandable, considering. He hadn’t enlightened her otherwise, although he’d meant to, before the sight of those incredible legs had distracted him.
His eyes washed over her more thoroughly, taking in the provocative little green dress, the highly glossed mouth, the beautiful but overbright eyes. She was either nervous, or excited. Or both.
Marcus’s suspicions were instantly aroused. Did Miss Montgomery know of Wade Hampton’s reputation for being a loans officer of easy virtue? Had she come here today armed with that knowledge, ready and willing to barter her delectable young body in exchange for a business loan of some kind? Was that what she meant when she said her proposition could benefit both of them?
The possibility gave a serious push to his already teetering conscience. But, dear God, she was breathtakingly beautiful, even more when she smiled.
Beautiful but bad, came the silent reminder.
Well, he didn’t know that for sure, did he? Not yet. And, if he were honest, he wouldn’t mind so much if she was bad. Not now, at this very moment, with his loins aching. Who knew what she might do if she’d come here ready and willing to be really bad? The various scenarios such thinking evoked did little for his already painful arousal.
Marcus stared at the object of his darkest desires for a few more moments before deciding not to tell her who he was. He settled back as best he could in Hampton’s narrow chair and waited for her to put her foot further into her pretty mouth.
‘Is that so?’ he said, steepling his fingers across his chest and trying not to eat her up too much with his eyes. But it was difficult not to wonder just how far she would go if he dangled the right carrot in front of those full sensual lips of hers.
He had to clear his throat before going on, not to mention his mind. Damn, but the girl was a temptation all right. If the devil wanted to send someone to corrupt him, he could not have chosen anyone more perfect.
‘Perhaps if you could outline your proposition to me,’ he said, ‘I would be better able to judge its benefit to both of us.’
Justine heard the sardonic edge in his voice, and hesitated. He knew—knew she was going to flirt with him, knew she was going to subtly offer herself as part of the loan package. He was sitting there, waiting like a big black spider for her to walk into his web.
Pride demanded she jump up straight away and stalk out of there.
But pride was not going to get her a loan. It would be cold comfort when she went home and explained to her mother that the house would have to be sold. Pride would not be of much value to Justine when they carted her mother off to some sanitarium or other.
Practicality won over pride. As did pragmatism. Who cared what he thought of her? The man was a creep. A user and abuser of women.
Well, it’s you who’s going to be used this time, buster, Justine thought. She flashed another winning smile at him, then launched into an explanation of her present financial situation.
Hampton frowned when she told him of her father’s death and subsequent debts, the frown deepening when she revealed the other bank’s intention to sell up the house and recoup their losses.
‘Can they do that?’ she asked abruptly.
‘They’re within their legal rights. Will the value of the house cover the entire debt?’
‘Oh, easily. It’s worth a million at least.’
‘Mmm.’
‘My mother doesn’t want to sell, Mr Hampton. And neither do I. If you could see your way clear to taking over the loan at business rates and giving me a little time, I have a plan whereby I’m sure I can repay the entire loan.’
His dark eyebrows arched. ‘Really. Perhaps you’d better tell me about this plan.’
‘I’d be glad to. Firstly, I could substantially reduce the loan within a few short weeks by auctioning off some the house’s contents.’
‘I see. And how much do you think you could raise this way?’
‘I’m sure I could cut the loan down to two hundred thousand dollars.’
‘How did you plan on repaying the final two hundred thousand?’
‘In the normal way, with monthly repayments.’
‘You’d still be looking at repayments of two thousand dollars a month. Where will the money come from to make those repayments, Miss Montgomery?’
The logical question led Justine into an outline of her boarding house project. To give Hampton credit, he listened politely, asking her relevant questions about how much she thought she would get for each room, and what her weekly profit might be. Clearly he didn’t just rubber-stamp any old loan, regardless of the fringe benefits.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Montgomery,’ he said at last.
‘I’m afraid we can’t help you. Your plan just isn’t financially feasible. It has too many variables. I really think it would be in your best interests for you and your mother to sell the house and buy something smaller with what money is left over.’
‘But I don’t want to live in anything smaller,’ Justine suddenly snapped, shock and nerves getting the better of her.
One of those straight black brows arched.
Justine gritted her teeth. She should be simpering at him, not snapping. Flirting, not flaring up. God, but it was hard to grovel.
‘My mother hasn’t been well,’ she tried explaining. ‘She’s still grieving for my father and it would break her heart to lose her home. Please,’ she pleaded, looking straight into his eyes and breaking her vow not to beg. ‘I know I can make a success of this.’
For a moment she was sure she had him—and without having to humiliate herself too much. But then he wrenched his eyes away, snapping forward on his chair.
‘I am not unsympathetic to your position, Miss Montgomery,’ he said, looking back at her. ‘If you had a steady job to back up your boarding house plan, I would have no hesitation in sanctioning this loan. But you’ve listed your occupation as a university student. What exactly are you studying?’
‘I’ve been doing a degree in Leisure Studies.’
‘Leisure
