A Wicked Persuasion. Catherine George
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‘You’re right. She’s sending me our first punter this morning. Some man who wants the house for a party.’ Harriet looked at her watch. ‘I’d better get going. I’ll give you a ring tonight to report.’
‘In that case I’ll be noble and keep Sophie in the loop for you.’ Julia shot her sister a wry look. ‘I suppose you know why she’s such a cow to you?’
Harriet nodded. ‘She’s jealous of my so-called relationship with Father.’
Julia eyed her thoughtfully. ‘She hasn’t a clue, has she? So why do you stay?’
Harriet concentrated on packing her briefcase. ‘Because just before … before the end, I promised Mother I would help Father take good care of River House.’
Julia shook her head in disapproval. ‘Leave him to do it himself. I love the place too, but you need more in your life than a house, Harriet! Mother would be the first to agree with me.’
‘I enjoy a normal social life,’ said Harriet defensively.
‘Ah, but do you ever enjoy a sleepover with the men you go out with? I doubt that you ask anyone back here!’
‘For heaven’s sake, Julia, it’s too early in the morning for this—I have to go.’
Julia paused in the doorway. ‘Take my advice—if money does come in this way, or any other way at all, get part of it tied up tight in a separate business account for the house. Otherwise Pa might start dabbling in shares and Lord knows what else again and we’ll be back to square one.’
‘I intend to,’ Harriet assured her. ‘When I break the glad news to him can I say I have your full support?’
‘Absolutely. Good luck.’
Harriet reached the premises in Broad Street on time, as usual. She exchanged greetings with Lydia, the long-time receptionist, and made for the small office with a single tall window overlooking the gardens—a view that more than compensated for lack of space. As she gazed out for her brief morning ritual of peace, the new trainee came in to ask about coffee.
‘Not right now, thanks, Simon.’ Harriet smiled at him. ‘Bring some when my nine-thirty appointment arrives. Tell Lydia to buzz you the moment he does so you can usher him in with due pomp.’
‘Will do. You look good today,’ he remarked. ‘New suit?’
‘New to you, yes.’ She smiled. ‘Now, hop off and let me get on.’
Harriet worked steadily for an hour before taking a break to tidy up. She was back at her desk, absorbed again, when Simon knocked on her door and ushered in her client.
‘Your nine-thirty appointment, Miss Wilde,’ he announced.
Harriet got to her feet feeling as though all the air had been sucked out of her office as James Crawford, elegant in a dark city suit, strolled in and dominated it by the sheer force of his personality. Now she had the time to take a good look, she could see that he was harder, older and colder, with little resemblance to the man she’d fallen in love with.
‘Good morning, Harriet.’ He held out his hand. ‘I had no time yesterday to mention we’d be meeting in an official capacity today.’
Or he wanted to give her a nasty surprise. ‘Good morning.’ Manfully hiding her shock, Harriet took the strong, slim hand. Ignoring the searing streak of heat along her veins at the contact, she smiled politely. ‘This is a surprise. Charlotte Brewster told me I had a possible client to hire River House, but she forgot to give me a name.’
James drew up a chair in front of her desk and sat down, looking so relaxed Harriet wanted to hit him. ‘She didn’t forget. I asked to remain anonymous.’
‘Why?’
His eyes gleamed with mockery. ‘In case you refused to see me.’
‘Why would I do that?’ she said, determinedly pleasant.
Simon came in bearing a tray with the silver coffee pot and fine china normally reserved for clients of the senior partner. ‘Ring if you need anything else, Miss Wilde.’
‘Thank you, Simon.’
Once she’d served James’s coffee, Harriet forced herself to sip hers slowly rather than glug the caffeine down like medicine.
‘To business,’ said James briskly, putting his cup down. ‘I met Ms Brewster over the weekend. During our conversation I told her I believe in keeping my employees happy and was on the lookout for an unusual location to throw a party for them.’ His eyes speared hers. ‘Imagine my surprise when she suggested River House.’
She could, vividly. ‘What kind of company do you run?’
‘We provide broadband and phone lines to businesses and various commercial outfits,’ he informed her, and smiled. ‘I’ve moved on a bit from the day I was called out to repair your computer. The usual rags-to-riches story, according to the press.’
‘Congratulations. I’m afraid I missed reading about it.’ She glued her smile in place. ‘So what, exactly, did you have in mind with regard to River House?’ Other than humiliating Harriet Wilde by hiring her home.
He leaned back, still irritatingly relaxed. ‘Briefly, my aim is a party to celebrate the recent expansion in my Live Wires Group. I’ve recently taken over a couple of small companies who ran into trouble. This event will welcome their employees on to my staff, and at the same time reward my original workforce for their efforts. I could use a hotel, obviously, but I liked the idea of an actual home setting as a venue.’
The Wilde home in particular. ‘River House doesn’t have room to put many people up overnight,’ Harriet warned, her mind in turmoil behind her professional demeanour.
He shook his head. ‘Not my intention. Transport will be provided for arrival and departure on the same day. I seem to remember a terrace leading to a large lawn, so a marquee seems the most practical idea, with drinks on the terrace beforehand if the weather’s good. What parking facilities can you provide?’
‘There’s an adjoining paddock we used for my sister’s wedding. Would your caterers need the kitchen?’ By this stage Harriet was experiencing serious qualms about hiring her home to any client, let alone to James Crawford.
‘The firm I have in mind provides their own,’ he informed her. ‘And the other necessary facilities will be set up out of sight somewhere in the gardens. You need suffer very little intrusion on your privacy.’
Harriet smiled coolly. ‘It makes no difference to me personally. I don’t live there.’
He tensed, eyes narrowed. ‘You’re based here in the town?’
‘No. Perhaps you may remember the Lodge at River House? I’ve lived there for quite a while.’
Of course he remembered the Lodge! James tried to look as though he