Secret Passion. Кэрол Мортимер

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      Maybe it was lucky after all that Adrian wasn’t here at the moment and she was dealing with James Ballantine; his involvement could be her only way out of this situation. Even if this man knew of her past friendship with his partner, she couldn’t believe he would approve of Adrian’s harassment of her. She needed this man on her side.

      ‘Miss Jones,’ he began slowly in answer to her terse demand. ‘Our acquaintance has been a short one, but I was not aware that I had done anything during that time to make you doubt my ability to carry out the simple task of checking the contents of this letter with my legal department.’

      Aura flushed at his unmistaskable sarcasm. Maybe she was being unfair to him, but after Adrian’s underhand methods of persuasion, who could blame her!

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered awkwardly. ‘I’m just—a little anxious.’

      His expression softened slightly, although his mouth remained forbidding. ‘I can understand that,’ he soothed. ‘And I really will get back to you as soon as I know anything.’

      It was a dismissal, she knew that, and after her forceful behaviour she couldn’t really blame him for wanting to get rid of her as soon as possible. ‘I am sorry.’ She looked at him appealingly, her eyes warm, her full mouth curved stiffly above her pointed chin, the freckles that covered her nose and cheeks more noticeable against her pallor, due to the tension she was under. ‘But to you it’s just another piece of property, whereas to me——’

      ‘I do understand, Miss Jones, and I—excuse me,’ he rasped impatiently as the intercom buzzed on his desk. ‘Yes, Moira?’ He spoke tersely, all the time looking at Aura, as if her tenacity were a little beyond him.

      ‘Your luncheon appointment is here, Mr Ballantine,’ he was informed.

      ‘I’ll only be a few moments longer,’ he told his secretary before turning his full attention back to Aura. ‘I have to go,’ he said abruptly, taking off his glasses to dazzle her with deep green orbs while he placed the glasses in his breast pocket.

      Prudence warred with necessity as she considered meekly accepting this second dismissal in as many minutes—and the latter won! ‘You won’t forget about my lease during your—lunch-break?’

      Anger flared in the dark green eyes, to be replaced by incredulity—and finally humour. ‘Miss Jones——’ he glanced down at the letter on his desk. ‘Aura,’ he amended. ‘You are without doubt the most outspoken young lady I have ever met.’

      She winced. ‘I am?’

      ‘You are,’ he drawled, smiling slightly, this time the grooves in his cheeks not looking at all menacing, ‘I am on my way to a business luncheon, not my mistress’s bed!’

      A delicate blush coloured her cheeks. ‘I’m sure I didn’t imply——’

      ‘Yes, you did,’ he mused. ‘And I suppose I should be flattered,’ he added drily.

      She didn’t know why. He was undoubtedly a sensual man, despite that rather unapproachable air he wore like a protective cloak; a man didn’t reach his mid-thirties without realising his sexuality was a tangible thing, no matter how well he tried to subdue it. ‘I just assumed——’

      ‘Too much,’ he put in softly. ‘I don’t have a mistress, Aura. Or a girlfriend. Or even a casual date.’

      She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his, sherry-brown locked with emerald green. Why had he told her that, for goodness’ sake? He surely didn’t think that she——! ‘Your personal life—or lack of it— holds no interest for me, Mr Ballantine,’ she snapped coldly. ‘It’s your business interests that concern me.’

      He gave a weary sigh, rubbing his temples with long sensitive fingers as his elbows rested on the desktop. ‘The day started out so well, too …’

      Her mouth tightened. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to ruin that for you——’

      ‘No, you aren’t,’ he derided. ‘You had something to say, and you would have said it no matter who you upset.’

      ‘Yes,’ she grimaced.

      He laughed softly, his eyes warm, the amusement remaining in his smile. ‘I’m not upset, Aura,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘Intrigued, perhaps, but certainly not upset.’

      She stood up abruptly; the last thing she needed was a complication like this man in her life! ‘I’ve taken up enough of your time.’ She moved determinedly towards the door.

      Somehow he was there before her, having crossed the room with a stealthy grace that was unnerving at the same time as his suddenly close proximity sent a shiver of awareness down her spine.

      ‘You haven’t taken anything I wasn’t willing to give,’ he told her softly.

      Aura looked up at him with alarm, that alarm increasing at the unmistakable warmth in sensual green eyes. ‘I have to go,’ she insisted sharply.

      He nodded slowly. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

      Now what did he mean by that, she puzzled irritably all the way down in the lift and on the walk out to her car. The last thing, positively the last thing she needed, was for Adrian’s partner to become interested in her.

      Unless the two men had discussed her, she worried on the drive back to the shop. James Ballantine didn’t seem the type of man to indulge in locker-room gossip, but that didn’t mean Adrian hadn’t told him about the obstinate woman he was dating who refused every move he made to share her bed. Maybe he had even challenged his partner to see if he could do any better with her!

      She wouldn’t put that sort of challenge past the type of man Adrian had proved himself to be, but she was sure James Ballantine wasn’t like that. She was letting her insecurities of the past colour her judgement.

      But no matter what conclusions she came to about James Ballantine, it didn’t alter the fact that Adrian had repaid her rejection of him by refusing to renew her lease, or that once Adrian returned to the office later today he might manage to convince his partner that he had acted that way for a good reason, and James Ballantine might just decide to go along with that decision …

      It wasn’t the most relaxing day she had ever spent, expecting a furious Adrian Mayhew to appear in the shop at any moment, at the very least anticipating a telephone call from James Ballantine to tell her there was nothing he could do about renewing her lease.

      Neither of those things happened. Each ring of the bell over the door as it opened brought in only customers, and the only two telephone calls she received were from other customers with queries. By five-thirty, as she and Jeanne, the middle-aged lady who helped her run the shop, closed up for the day, Aura’s nerves were frayed to breaking-point.

      ‘Everything all right?’ Jeanne took time out from the mad dash she always had at the end of her working day to get home and cook the dinner for her invalid husband and their three young children. ‘You seem very tense,’ she explained her concern.

      Aura sighed. ‘It’s just been one of those days,’ she evaded; the other woman and her husband had enough trouble meeting their bills as it was, without worrying them with the СКАЧАТЬ