there.”
If he sensed her relief, he gave no indication. Nor did he take more than a cursory interest in his first sight of the mansion as the electronically operated gates swung open to admit them. Was he acting disinterested as a prelude to some hard bargaining? He had seemed far more animated when discussing their children than he did as they got out of the car and approached the house, their footsteps crunching on the freshly raked gravel driveway.
Apart from a caretaker who lived in a cottage on the grounds, the property was unoccupied. Her sense of unease returned. She put it down to the silence settling around them as soon as she switched off the engine. “Would you like to see the house or the grounds first?” she asked, unaccountably hoping he would choose to explore the garden.
“The house,” he decided. “There are six bedroom suites, I understand.”
Her unsettled feeling was probably due to the discussion about his missing daughter, she thought. Knowing how she would feel under the same circumstances was bound to affect her. She was thankful to be able to switch the conversation to the virtues of the mansion.
He responded in kind, asking shrewd questions about the house, its history and the land surrounding it. By the time she had shown him everything, over an hour had gone by. Apart from his questions, his demeanor gave her no clues as to whether or not she had a sale.
Somehow she also found herself talking more about her own life, she noticed. His questioning was so subtle that it wasn’t until the inspection was almost over that she realized they’d talked more about her than about the house.
“If you want to see the house again, I’ll be happy to arrange a second inspection,” she told him as they walked back to her car.
“There’s no need. I’ll take it.”
She could hardly believe her ears. A million-dollar property and he would take it, just like that? The commission from this one sale alone would take care of most of Genie’s needs for some time to come.
“You will?” she said, professionalism failing slightly as elation gripped her. “That’s great. I had a feeling it was right for you when you explained your company’s requirements.”
He nodded briskly. “The company will want to make some changes. Add a few more modern conveniences and more secure car parking, of course.”
“I’m authorized to discuss offers,” she assured him, mentally calculating the cost of the improvements he’d outlined. No doubt he would expect the final selling price to reflect them.
He named a figure only slightly below the asking price, which she had privately decided was above market value anyway. Evidently James agreed with her because his offer was exactly the one she would have made in his shoes. She was sure her clients would accept his offer without further negotiation.
At her car she swung around to face him. “I’ll call the vendors on the way back to my place. I’m sure your offer will be acceptable, so we can go to my office and get the preliminary paperwork under way this afternoon if you like.”
He braced an arm against the roof of her car, meeting her gaze with disturbing directness. A woman could drown in those blue pools, she thought. She had the uncanny sensation that he knew everything there was to know about her—every secret, every dark place. And found it intriguing.
She shook her head slightly to clear it. More fantasies, Zoe? What was the matter with her today? It must be the thrill of making such an important sale. She refused to believe her state of mind could be blamed on James’s effect on her.
His slightly lopsided smile warmed her. “Do you have the offer document with you?”
She nodded and drew it out of her portfolio. He barely glanced at the fine print before writing in the price they’d discussed and scrawling his signature at the bottom. It was as firm and bold as everything else about him, she noticed.
“There, you have my offer in writing,” he confirmed. “Everything else will be handled by my deputy, Brian Dengate, at my head office.”
A faint sense of disappointment rippled through her. So he wasn’t to be involved in the purchase beyond today’s inspection. She dismissed the thought with surprising difficulty. “In that case, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, James.” She slid into the driver’s seat and he got in beside her. “I’ll have you back at your car in fifteen minutes.”
“There’s no hurry,” he said, catching her unawares. “I still have some matters to discuss with you.”
Unaccountably her spirits lifted. He probably wanted to question her about the local zoning laws and heritage listing requirements, but it didn’t seem to matter. She only knew she was happy to continue the conversation.
They had reached her house before she realized he hadn’t asked any of his questions, talking instead about inconsequential matters. “Would you like to come in for coffee?” she offered and found herself holding her breath as she waited for his answer.
He nodded, his face impassive. She couldn’t tell whether he was as drawn to her as she was to him, but at least he hadn’t refused. Her step was light as she led the way inside.
Her home was modest but well-cared-for. Not what he would be accustomed to, she thought as they stepped over toys in the hallway to reach the living room. She’d decorated it herself with cream wallpaper, a handwoven Mexican rug and a few inventive touches such as a pottery jar holding giant paper sunflowers.
James settled himself on the sofa while she fetched coffee and homemade walnut cake. But he refused the cake and his coffee sat untouched at his elbow as he leaned toward her. “I have something to tell you, Zoe.”
He looked so serious that alarm shrilled through her. “If you’re worried about the heritage listing—”
“This isn’t about the property.” He forestalled her. “It’s about Genevieve.”
For a moment the name confused her, then the truth dawned. “You mean Genie. What about her?”
James reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a sheaf of documents. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, but there’s absolutely no doubt. The child you know as Genie is my daughter, Genevieve. All the proof you need is in these reports.”
Chapter Two
Zoe felt as if she had stepped off a sandbank into deep water, which was rapidly closing over her head. Her skin turned icy and every breath became a huge effort. This was how it felt to drown, she thought, as if seeing her own reaction from a distance.
“She’s what?”
“She’s the daughter who was taken from me eighteen months ago. Her real name is Genevieve Matilda Langford.”
The drowning sensation went on and on, but there was also the sense of seeing herself from above as Zoe dispassionately noted every detail of her pose which miraculously hadn’t altered.
She sat frozen with one slim leg crossed over the other in a calm precision which now seemed to mock her other self, watching from above. She had actually thought that James wanted to prolong their meeting for other than business reasons. The truth chilled her beyond belief. All his interest in her marriage and her child
