again she felt disturbed, threatened.
‘Or perhaps I’m mistaken?’
Looking uncomfortable, Alan began, ‘No, that’s quite right, and I don’t mean Cass isn’t excellent at her job, but she’s…’
‘Expendable?’ Lang suggested softly.
‘Certainly not… What I meant was she isn’t career-minded, it isn’t that important to her…’
He floundered to a stop. An only child, spoilt and pampered, he wasn’t used to having to explain himself.
‘You mean that you think she would be willing to sacrifice her career for yours?’
Looking a little put out at such blunt speaking, Alan admitted, ‘Well, yes, but I—’
Lang glanced at her. ‘Perhaps we should allow Cassandra to speak for herself?’
Irked, both by Lang Dalton’s intervention and by being discussed as if she weren’t present, Cassandra murmured sweetly, ‘You’re too kind.’
Ignoring the gleam of amusement that appeared in his dark blue eyes, she went on, ‘Alan’s quite right. I thoroughly enjoy my job, but I’m far from being a dedicated career woman…’
Lang regarded her, a frown drawing his well-marked brows together. He’d expected someone shrewd and calculating, hard and self-centred. This apparent willingness to put Brent’s interests first had come as a surprise.
Crisply, she added, ‘There are other important things in life.’
‘Such as?’
‘Perhaps because of my upbringing, I believe that taking care of a home and a family are of equal importance.’
There was a tense silence, before, his face curiously set and hard, Lang turned to Alan and said abruptly, ‘Very well. I’ll give instructions for the helicopter to be ready first thing in the morning.’
With a grateful glance at Cassandra, Alan asked, ‘It will be okay for Cass to go to LA with me?’
‘I think not.’ Lang’s answer was decisive. ‘This will be business all the way, and I’ve never believed in mixing business and pleasure…
‘Not that there would be much time for pleasure,’ he added drily.
Seeing Cassandra’s stricken face, Alan began, ‘Oh, but couldn’t she—?’
‘I’m sure your fiancée can bear to part with you for just a couple of days.’ Lang’s tone was caustic.
As Alan looked at Cassandra helplessly, the butler returned with the final course, and a tray of coffee. Her stomach churning, Cassandra refused the chocolate and cream confection, while Alan, who had a schoolboy greed for gooey gateaux and trifles, accepted a liberal helping.
Waving away the rich sweet, Lang allowed his cup to be filled with black coffee, before turning to say to the younger man, ‘All the arrangements have been made for you to spend the night at Seguro House, in the executive suite. I just need to finalize them…’
Then, with a bite, he added, ‘That is, unless you’ve changed your mind about going? It’s up to you.’
Alan finished swallowing a mouthful of chocolate and cream, and after a brief hesitation said, ‘I’d prefer to leave it up to Cass.’
Cassandra drew a deep, uneven breath. Usually she was sensible and well-balanced, but there was nothing remotely sensible or well-balanced about her reaction to being left alone here with Lang Dalton.
But wasn’t she exaggerating, getting worked up about nothing? They wouldn’t be alone. There was a houseful of servants.
As if a houseful of servants made one iota of difference! She still dreaded the thought. And Alan must surely know how she felt?
But, in all fairness, no man in his right mind would turn down an opportunity like that. He’d done the best he could in the circumstances. Given her a chance to veto it.
A chance he knew quite well she wouldn’t take.
Just for an instant she felt resentful.
Glancing up, she discovered Lang Dalton was watching her intently.
Leaning towards her, he said softly in her ear, ‘You look like Ariadne must have looked when she was about to be abandoned in Naxos.’
All at once Cassandra was convinced of two things—he was well aware of what she was thinking, and he wanted her to blame Alan.
Well, she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
Allowing herself no time to change her mind, she turned to her fiancé and, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, exclaimed, ‘Darling, of course you must go!’
For a moment he looked surprised at the warm response. Then, a little lamely, he said, ‘You know I don’t like to leave you.’
But she’d seen the relief in his eyes.
‘Don’t be silly. It’s only for a couple of days.’
Lang smiled grimly. A lot could happen in two days. In less time than that he’d been known to make or break a multi-million-dollar deal and, on matters that adversely affected the environment, apply enough pressure to change the modus operandi and ensure the results he wanted.
‘Don’t worry,’ he told Alan urbanely. ‘While you’re away I’ll show Cassandra something of the area, and make sure she doesn’t get bored.’
If that statement of intent was meant to reassure, as far as Cassandra was concerned it failed dismally.
And Lang knew it. ‘Of course if you’re really not happy with that arrangement…?’
‘I’m quite happy,’ she assured him mendaciously.
‘Well, if you change your mind before the helicopter leaves, and feel you can’t bear to be abandoned after all, I might be prepared to stretch a point…’ But his derisory smile suggested that it would be the behaviour of a child.
Which it would.
‘Thank you, but there’ll be no need.’
Lifting her chin, she met his eyes, and saw in their depths a gleam of triumph, of satisfaction.
It was almost immediately masked. But she knew without a shadow of doubt that he had got exactly what he wanted.
Remembering her premonition, she gave a shiver, suddenly convinced that, for some obscure reason, this whole thing had been carefully planned, that both she and Alan had been ruthlessly manipulated.
Such a notion had obviously never crossed Alan’s mind. He tended to be inward-looking, self-absorbed, and she guessed that a lot of the byplay had gone over his head.
Off the hook, looking eager and excited once again, he turned to Lang and remarked,
