Charade of the Heart Read online

  Beth hesitated, and Laura immediately seized the opportunity.

  ‘And the rest up here will do me good,’ she said fervently. ‘I’ll be able to do some thinking, and I’ll get away from London for a while. There are too many memories for me in London. We could both do with swapping places for our health.’

  ‘That’s emotional blackmail,’ Beth pointed out wearily.

  But the battle was over, and by the time they finally switched off the lights she was already coming to terms with the fact that she was either as crazy as her sister or else so lacking in will-power that she had allowed herself to agree with something which bore all the resemblance of a jaunt in a minefield.

  Laura had taken a week off work, and they spent the time laboriously going over the routines in the Adrino corporation. She had brought one of the company magazines with her, and she pointed out all the faces of the people Beth would meet and would have to recognise.

  They weren’t that many, mostly the people who worked in the higher echelons of the company. It was a fortunate coincidence that her sister had not been in London long enough to acquire her usual following of male admirers. Her closest friend was Katie, who was aware of the plan.

  David, she assured Beth with a note of bitterness, although he worked in the company, which was where she had met him, had applied and got a transfer abroad.

  ‘Running as far away as he could from me,’ she said with an attempt at bravado.

  ‘Isn’t that easier than if he had been around?’ Beth enquired mildly, and her sister shrugged agreement.

  By the end of the week, Laura had managed to find herself a temp job, but her work at the Adrino corporation had obviously spoiled her. She rattled off what she would have to do now and was clearly appalled by the prospect.

  Beth tactfully refrained from another lecture on it all being her fault, and that as she had made her bed, so would she have to lie on it.

  She herself had successfully managed to resign from her job without having to give the obligatory one-month notice. She had pleaded an unfortunate family matter and tactfully left it to her boss to decipher whatever he wanted from that obscure statement.

  It had hurt a lot less than she had expected. Had she really spent so much time in a job that she had shed without too many tears? Or maybe it was the stirrings of what was awaiting her.

  Laura had made the whole scheme sound like a marvellous adventure, but the following Monday morning, as Beth stood outside the impressive Adrino building, she felt far from adventurous.

  She felt an impostor, dressed in her sister’s jade-green suit. Was there a law against this sort of thing? she wondered.

  She smoothed her hair back nervously and chewed on her lip. All around her people rushed past, lots of little soldier ants hurrying to their jobs.

  A dull sun was attempting to break the stranglehold of grey clouds but it was easy to see that it was a losing battle.

  She felt a light spitting of rain and merged into the line of soldier ants, finding herself swept into the massive building.

  If I don’t look at anyone, she thought, then I won’t risk ignoring any recognisable faces.

  But she was perspiring with nerves as the lift whooshed up to the top floor, disgorging her into the plushest set of offices she had ever seen in her life before.

  The carpet was of muted grey-blue and thick enough to make footsteps soundless. The offices lay behind smoke-coloured glass.

  One of the secretaries looked up as she walked past and waved, and Beth waved back. Marian, secretary to Ron Wood, the financial director.

  ‘Nice week off?’ Marian asked, stopping her in her tracks, and Beth smiled and nodded.

  ‘A little eventful,’ she said, inwardly grinning at the accuracy of the description, ‘but relaxing on the whole.’

  ‘Good. I wish I had a week off coming up. I’m up to my ears in it. You’ve had your hair cut?’

  Beth ran her fingers self-consciously through her bob. ‘Spur-of-the-moment,’ she said vaguely.

  ‘Suits you. Makes you look more businesslike. Not,’ Marian continued hurriedly, ‘that you didn’t look great with long hair.’

  Beth accepted the compliment with a smile. She liked Marian straight away. She was in her middle thirties, tending towards plumpness and quite plain to look at with her short wavy brown hair and spectacles, until she smiled. Then her face lit up and was really very attractive.

  ‘See you later, anyway,’ she said with another wave, and Beth nodded, walking confidently towards her office which she knew was at the end of the corridor.

  First hurdle, she thought, successfully manoeuvred and out of the way. It surely couldn’t be as simple as this. Life was never that simple. It always insisted on throwing in a few complications to making the going more interesting.

  But right now her self-confidence was a notch higher.

  There would be a stack of typing awaiting her—she knew that from what Laura had explained—but that would be no problem. She had spent a long time working with the same computer system.

  She pushed open the door to her office and gasped.

  It was a large room, carpeted in the same shade of muted grey, but the walls were covered by an elegant dove-grey wallpaper. Her desk was an impressive mahogany affair, and the filing cabinets, also in mahogany, were stacked neatly against the wall.

  Opposite, a large abstract painting dominated the wall. It wasn’t the sort of thing she would have chosen herself, but she decided that she rather liked it. It was soothing.

  Marcos Adrino had probably hand-picked it. She had had to revise some of her ideas on his appearance. From the picture in the company magazine, he was younger than she had originally thought, but she had no doubt that the paunch was still there. The handful of wealthy men she had met had all seemed to be slightly over-weight. Products of too much access to rich food.

  She hung her coat on the coat-stand and settled comfortably into her chair, browsing through the pile of letters, most of which she could tell at a glance, from experience, simply needed filing. Faxed letters from the boss were awaiting typing.

  Beth looked at the strong, aggressive handwriting and felt a twinge of relief that he wasn’t around. She could do with a few days breaking in before she faced him.

  She switched on the computer terminal and was about to begin working on the first letter when the door behind her opened.

  She heard his voice before she saw him. It was deep, and right now tinged with enough hardness to freeze her to the spot.

  ‘Here at last. In my office. Now.’

  She swivelled around to see him vanishing back into his room, and her head began to throb with nerves.

  One day into this, and already things weren’t going to plan. He was not supposed to be here today. He was supposed to spend most of his time out of the country. In fact, from what Laura had told her, he was supposed to be in Paris and Geneva until the end of the week. At least. So what on earth was he doing here?

  She licked her lips nervously and wished that she had listened to her good sense and laughed her sister right out of town.

  He was standing by the window waiting for her, his body negligently leaning against the sill, one hand thrust into his trouser-pocket.

  The difference between the man in front of her and the one she had conjured up was so vast that she looked away in confusion.

  Marcos Adrino was tall and, far from having a paunch, he had not a spare ounce of fat to be seen. In fact, he had the body of a superbly tuned athlete, broad-shouldered and lean-hipped. A body that looked powerful, even though it was covered by an expensively tailored charcoal-grey suit.

  Beth cleared her throat and looked at him, taking in the hard, clever lines of his face, the black hair, the dark, penetrating eyes, the curve of his mouth.

  Pull yourself together, girl, she told herself. You’re the sensible one, remember?

  He was staring at her through narrowed eyes.

  ‘Sit down,’ he ordered ab
ruptly.

  Beth edged over to the chair and sat down, lowering her eyes to her shorthand pad, making an effort to steady her hand.

  It wouldn’t do to look ill-at-ease. She got the feeling that this man picked up things like that, processed them through his shrewd brain, and always came up with the right answer.

  He remained standing where he was and she looked up at him with a bright smile.

  ‘I didn’t expect you,’ she said in a businesslike voice.

  ‘I dare say you didn’t,’ he drawled.

  ‘Successful trip?’

  ‘It would have been, if I hadn’t been privy to certain rumours circulating.’

  ‘Rumours?’

  She managed a weak smile.

  ‘Rumour number one has it that you’ve been shirking your responsibilities here,’ he said coldly. ‘I don’t pay you to waltz into this office any time you feel like it.’

  Beth gathered her wits together. This wasn’t a dictating session at all. She should have guessed that the minute she saw that forbidding expression on his face.

  ‘I didn’t realise that I had been,’ she ventured.

  ‘Really.’ He moved over to his chair and sat in it, inclining back, his hands clasped behind his head. ‘In that case, you don’t seem to be aware of the time you’re supposed to get here. I can assure you that it’s not ten o’clock.’

  His voice was smooth and razor-sharp, and Beth looked at him with dislike. She had been spot-on when she had read arrogance behind her sister’s description of her boss. It was stamped all over him, but she was damned if he was going to stamp it all over her.

  ‘If I’ve been late on a couple of occasions,’ she said coolly, ‘than I apologise. It won’t happen again.’

  ‘It had better not. You’ve exhausted your first chance with me. Next time it happens and you don’t provide an acceptable excuse, you’re out. Understand?’

  Beth swallowed her anger.

  ‘And what excuse would you consider acceptable?’ she asked with interest, forgetting that she was supposed to be holding on to her sister’s job and not kissing it sweet goodbye through the window. ‘Death, perhaps?’

  Marcos’s mouth narrowed to a thin line.

  ‘Nor do I pay you to give me lip, is that clear?’ He stared at her and Beth defiantly met his gaze.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered, fiddling with her pad.

  This man was more than merely uncomfortable to be around. He was unbearable, and if Laura had been around she would quite happily have strangled her on the spot.

  ‘Have you prepared the groundwork on the St Lucian project?’ he asked, changing the subject.

  He was trying to catch her out. Beth could sense it instinctively and she thanked her lucky stars that Laura had filled her in on all the details of the major jobs he was working on.

  The St Lucian project involved an immense lot of work concerning the construction of an exclusive complex in St Lucia, the sort of complex that catered for the sort of people who never associated holidays with cost.

  ‘Yes,’ she responded calmly. ‘The groundwork’s all been covered and an appointment with the Minister of Tourism is scheduled for next week.’

  It felt good to reel off the right answer. Marcos Adrino would have had no hesitation in reducing her to the size of a pea had she not been able to meet his question with an adequate response.

  She got the feeling that he had no compunction when it came to eliminating dead wood from his company. Or, for that matter, from his life. She considered what her sister had told her about his private affairs, about the women who were drawn to him like iron filings to a magnet. Now, seeing him, she realised that he was the kind of man who treated women as disposable playthings. Men, she thought, she could well do without, and this breed of man was particularly on the objectionable list.

  ‘I do feel, however,’ she said, throwing in her own opinion on what Laura had told her about the project, ‘that more care should be taken to involve the visitors into the island life. A fabulous complex is one thing, but it can be enhanced by easy access to the local customs.’

  ‘You have opinions now, have you?’ he asked softly. ‘And since when has your efficiency extended beyond my orders?’

  Beth didn’t answer. She would have to remember to act in character, and Laura would never have volunteered such an observation without being asked.

  ‘Is that all?’ she murmured, preparing to leave. ‘Sir?’

  ‘The name is Marcos,’ he answered easily, ‘use it. You always have. And no, as a matter of fact, that’s not all. Not by a long shot.’

  Beth waited and the silence built around her like an electric field.

  He had something else to say, and, from the sound of this particular brand of silence, whatever it was it wasn’t pleasant.

  CHAPTER TWO

  NEVER IN HER ENTIRE LIFE had Beth felt so acutely ill at ease. And the worst part was, Marcos Adrino wasn’t at all embarrassed at her discomfort. He continued to stare at her, those black eyes taking in absolutely everything, until she felt like jumping up from the chair and begging for forgiveness for whatever the hell it was she was supposed to have done, because he still hadn’t said.

  He would have made a great interrogator, she thought. He certainly had the ability to fill his silences with unspoken threat.

  ‘I’ve been hearing other, slightly more distasteful rumours about you,’ he broke the silence, but there was still a dangerous softness to his voice. He idly picked up the silver letter-opener from his desk, running the edge along his finger with caressing delicacy.

  Did he have to do that? Beth wondered nervously. Was he doing it on purpose? She didn’t think so. There was something absent-minded about his action, but even so, it was menacing.

  No wonder, when Laura had spoken about him, her voice had been filled with awe.

  Of course, she decided, falling back on her good, old-fashioned sense of practicality, any awe Laura felt towards him was totally misplaced. All that forbidding arrogance didn’t intimidate her at all. Well, not now anyway. Maybe to start with, but she had got the measure of him now, she decided.

  He had something unpleasant to say to her and, instead of just coming right out with it, which was what any normal boss would have done, he was playing a cat-and-mouse game with her. Creating a shroud of tension around her, waiting for her to snap, at which point he would no doubt find the whole scenario hugely entertaining.

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Beth asked politely.

  His mouth hardened. Any minute now, she thought, and he’ll tell me that I have an attitude problem. But she was damned if she was going to let Marcos Adrino walk all over her. He might treat the rest of the human race like that, but not her. Not if she had any say in the matter.

  She fleetingly thought that she was supposed to be impersonating her sister and that Laura would never have dreamt of answering back to him, and promptly pushed the thought aside for future reference.

  ‘You don’t seem overly concerned,’ he said, dropping the letter-knife and standing up.

  Beth followed his movements warily as he walked around the desk to perch on it directly in front of her.

  Another little ploy, she told herself. Designed to make the guilty party feel inferior and vulnerable. It won’t work.

  Her green eyes serenely met his, and she saw an expression of what? Puzzlement? Almost as though he was trying to figure something out. Then it was gone and he was looking at her with cold disapproval.

  ‘Of course I’m interested in whatever rumours you’ve heard,’ Beth agreed with the same level of controlled politeness in her voice. ‘Not that rumours are always based on fact.’

  ‘Your week off certainly seems to have turned you into a little philosopher,’ Marcos observed coolly. ‘I don’t remember you being so opinionated before. Who did you spend the time with?’

  ‘No one,’ Beth said hurriedly.

  ‘Not even David Ryan?’

  So this is it, she thought, I migh
t have guessed. Her face reddened and then just as quickly drained of all colour.

  ‘I see that’s managed to crack that controlled little façade of yours.’

  ‘May I ask who has been spreading these…rumours?’ she asked. Not that I’ll be able to deny them. Laura, she groaned inwardly, why on earth did you have to fool around with someone in the company? Why couldn’t you have contented yourself with any one of the hundreds of other men in London who had nothing at all to do with the Adrino corporation?

  Marcos smiled coldly. ‘I really don’t think that’s relevant, do you?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ Beth said dully.

  ‘The fact is that you and Ryan have been sleeping together, haven’t you?’

  ‘I didn’t realise that what I did outside of company time—’

  ‘You know damn well that it’s not allowed. You’re my secretary and Ryan isn’t just one of the junior members of staff. He’s one of our directors.’

  ‘He is?’ She hadn’t thought to ask Laura what David’s status in the company was, and Laura had, naturally, tactfully omitted to mention it.

  ‘Don’t try and plead ignorance,’ Marcos bit out. ‘It won’t work. I had noticed that his work was becoming sloppy. Is that why he requested a transfer to Paris?’

  ‘I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him,’ Beth hedged, looking away.

  ‘I’m asking you. But don’t worry, your face says it all for you. No doubt you drove the poor fellow into a corner and he fled from the country to get away from you.’

  ‘I resent that!’ she exclaimed hotly, standing up. It was on the tip of her tongue to inform him that she wasn’t paid to sit in his office and be systematically insulted. That he could expect her resignation first thing in the morning. But, of course, she couldn’t. Laura would never have forgiven her if their convoluted efforts to secure her job had lasted precisely two hours and had resulted in Beth walking out.

  She bit back her words and rearranged her features into what she hoped was an expression of subdued apology.

  ‘Sit back down,’ Marcos commanded abruptly. ‘You’ll leave when I’m finished with you. You’ve been playing with Ryan, and who else? Is he one of a succession of men you’ve been sleeping with in my company?’