It served his purposes to feed their rumors of salacious goings-on at his castle. When people thought they already knew a juicy story about you, they didn’t spend much time prying into the truth.
So what was the truth about Natalie Brighton? Why had she left the Cirque du Paris? Her fall hadn’t left her permanently disabled, as far as he could tell. Something else had sent her here, to a place designed as a retreat from the world.
He should know. He’d been hiding here for years.
2
NATALIE WOKE the next morning to the staccato beat of rain on her bedroom window. She opened her eyes and stared at the red velvet draperies and red brocade bedspread of the room. What had compelled John Sartain to decorate his home in early bordello?
A very upscale bordello, she amended as she brushed her teeth and readied for her first day at work. After a breakfast of coffee and bagels she found in the amply stocked apartment kitchen, she made her way downstairs and followed the sound of a ringing telephone and the click of a computer keyboard to what had to be the offices of Sartain Enterprises.
“May I help you?” A tall blonde rose from a desk in the center of the room, her tone frosty. “Are you looking for someone?”
“I’m Natalie Brighton, the new business manager.” Natalie looked around the room, one wall of which was lined with filing cabinets and the rest furnished with every piece of modern office equipment she could imagine. Other than the blonde, no other employees were present.
The blonde stepped out from behind the desk, not the slightest bit of warmth seeping into her expression. “My name is Laura Clayton. I’m Sartain’s personal assistant.”
The flat tone of Laura’s voice, coupled with the way she wrinkled her nose as if she’d smelled something foul, clued Natalie into the fact that Ms. Clayton was less than thrilled with her presence. She’d met her type before—dancers who saw every new member of the company as a threat invading their territory. Thanks to her mother’s example, Natalie knew how to handle women like her. She swept past her into the office. “I didn’t know Mr. Sartain had a personal assistant,” she said.
Laura’s pale cheeks reddened, but she forged on, her tone taking on a slightly nasal whine. “Mr. Sartain has relied on my help for months now,” she said. “I don’t see why Mr. Tanner thought we needed anyone else.”
“Obviously he and Mr. Sartain agreed that you do.” She gave the other woman a cool look. Laura’s shirt was too tight, her blouse too low-cut and her hair too bleached. That said nothing, of course, about her capabilities as an office assistant, but it did make Natalie wonder why she’d been hired. She’d have thought Sartain, as an artist, would have better taste.
And if she could read my thoughts, she’d realize that I can be bitchier than her any day. After all, I learned from the best.
“Why don’t you start by showing me around the offices?” Natalie said, adopting a businesslike tone. “Then we can take a look at the rest of the castle.”
Laura opened her mouth as if to make another cutting remark, but apparently thought better of it. “This is the main office. My desk is over there, but there’s a private room for you.”
She was explaining the multi-line phone system when the door to the offices burst open, slamming back against the wall.
“Laura, where the hell is that cadmium yellow I ordered two days ago?” Sartain bellowed. He glanced at Natalie, but didn’t acknowledge her, focusing once more on Laura. “How am I supposed to finish this commission in time when I don’t have the damn paint I need? Is it too much to ask that when I order something it be delivered on time?”
Laura hunched her shoulders and her voice assumed a simpering quality that made Natalie’s ears hurt. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Sartain. I’ll call right away and have them trace the order.”
“I don’t give a damn about the order. I need that paint now! Find some, if you have to drive into Denver and get it yourself.”
“Yes, Mr. Sartain. I’ll certainly do that.” She scurried away.
Sartain turned to Natalie. “What are you staring at?” He gestured after the other woman. “Go help her find that paint.”
Natalie shook her head. “Oh, I think one person can handle that job all right.”
“I didn’t ask you what you thought!” Sartain roared. “I’m not paying you to think.” He stepped toward her, his voice menacing. “Find. Me. That. Paint.”
She brought her hands up between them and began clapping. “Bravo. You do that very well. And if I hadn’t already seen dozens of better tantrums I might even be intimidated.”
The muscles of his jaw bulged as he ground his teeth together, and the pulse at his temple pounded. Natalie’s heart sped up, though she held her ground and forced herself to remain calm. How she responded to this outburst would set the tone for all such future interactions. She intended to maintain the upper hand.
Sartain took a step back, and when he spoke again his voice was softer, though still with an edge of menace. “I don’t frighten you?”
She shook her head. “No. And despite what you think, the world won’t end if you have to wait until tomorrow for a tube of cadmium yellow.”
“How can you say that? I have a painting to complete that is due at the printer’s next week. I’m not some machine. I can’t turn talent on and off according to a schedule. I can’t be expected…”
As his voice rose he began to flail his arms, in full rant mode. Natalie folded her arms across her chest and nodded, waiting for him to wind down. There was something impressive about his passion for the subject, something almost sexual about the way his eyes dilated and his breathing deepened, the muscles of his arms and shoulders knotting beneath his plain dark cotton shirt.
As he was winding down, she noticed Laura hovering in the doorway. “Yes, Laura, what did you find out?” she asked.
Laura’s gaze darted to Sartain, then back to Natalie. “I tracked the shipment and it should arrive this afternoon. But there’s a store in Denver that has it in stock. I could drive in and get it.”
“And by the time you got back, the other shipment would probably have been delivered,” Natalie pointed out.
Sartain studied her. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
Natalie shrugged. “You could show me your castle.”
He blinked. “You want me to play tour guide?”
“Or you could return to your studio and practice for your next outburst.”
Amusement edged out anger in his eyes, though his expression remained stern. “Perhaps you can give me some pointers while I show you around.”
He turned and started out of the room, but Natalie put a hand out to stop him. “First, you need to apologize to Laura for shouting at her and thank her for tracking the shipment.”
His eyes widened. “You want me to do what?”
“You
