Power Play. PENNY JORDAN

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      It was Alex Barnett who spoke, struggling against his growing feeling of disbelief. He remembered the incident, of course. He had never forgotten it, but he had thought he had successfully buried it along with his guilt, and all the other unpleasant aspects of his past that he preferred to forget.

      He looked at Pepper and saw the expensive groomed elegance of her, wondering at the transformation. The girl he remembered had been bone-thin, wearing shabby clothes, her accent thick and hard to understand. She had fought them like a wild animal, lashing out at their faces with her nails…He shuddered deeply, closing his eyes.

      “What are you going to do?” he muttered.

      Amazingly she was still smiling at them. “Nothing. Unless of course you force me to.”

      Behind her calm smile she was alert, with adrenalin-based energy, watching and assessing.

      Rape. To her it was the most vile four-letter word in existence, especially when it applied to the sort of rape that had been inflicted on her. The terror of that night was something she would never forget. She wouldn’t let herself; it had been her single motivating force for too long. It had brought her from poverty and deprivation to where she was today.

      “You took from me something that was irreplaceable, and I’ve decided that it’s only just that each of you in turn should lose something of similar value.

      “You, Mr Herries,” she told him, watching him with her mouth curved into a smile and her eyes as hard as metal, “will resign from the Conservative Party. I hear you’re tipped as being a possible candidate for their future leader. However, I’m sure they wouldn’t think you such a drastic loss if they knew the contents of that file, do you?”

      Her smile assessed his rage and then dismissed him as she turned to Richard Howell.

      “The bank means an awful lot to you, doesn’t it, Mr Howell? But I’m afraid you’re going to have to give it up.”

      “Resign?” He stared at her in disbelief.

      Her smile was gentle but implacable. “I’m afraid so. I’m sure your uncle will be only too delighted to step into your shoes.”

      Alex Barnett waited, anticipating the blow falling, knowing what she was going to tell him. He had fought ever since leaving Oxford to establish his business; he had put everything he owned into it, all his energy, nearly all his time, and he felt a sudden savage desire to take that smooth white throat between his hands and squeeze until those full lips were silenced for ever.

      One look at his face told Pepper he had already anticipated her ultimatum, so she passed on to Miles French.

      “I know,” he told her drily, “but you’ve forgotten something, Pepper…” She frowned at him, disliking his use of her Christian name. Unlike the others, he seemed more amused than appalled.

      “Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,” he mocked softly. “You’re treading a very dangerous path, you know.”

      Pepper turned away from him.

      “You all have one month to consider my…suggestions. If at the end of that time I have not heard from you, the contents of these files will be revealed to the press. Of course, I need hardly tell you that they’re only copies.”

      “And that you’ve left a letter with your bank and your solicitor to be opened in the event of your disappearance or death,” Miles mocked.

      It irritated Pepper that he should continue to pretend that he was merely amused by her. He had as much to lose as the others. She met his eyes and shuddered, remembering. It had been his room she had woken up in that morning, his shirt had been wrapped around her bruised body; he had been standing looking down at her.

      “You can’t get away with this, you know…” Richard Howell blustered.

      Miles touched him on the arm and shook his head.

      “A month, you say?” He looked thoughtfully at Pepper and then said to his companions. “A month isn’t a long time, gentlemen, so I suggest we don’t waste a moment of it.”

      Pepper didn’t watch them go. She rang through to Miranda and asked her to come in and show them out.

      “You may keep your files,” she told them mockingly, then she turned her back on them and walked over to the window.

      It was over, and somehow she felt curiously empty…drained, and yet unsatisfied in a way she hadn’t expected.

      She heard her office door open and knew they were leaving. Miranda came back five minutes later to remove the undrunk tea, but although her secretary waited for the rest of the afternoon Pepper did not call her in to dictate to her any notes on the meeting.

      Outside in the street four men eyed one another.

      “Something will have to be done.”

      “Yes,” Miles agreed. “We need somewhere private where we can talk.”

      “Where that bitch can’t overhear us,” Simon Herries swore savagely. “She must have had us followed…”

      “I suggest we go back to my place and talk the whole thing over.” Miles flicked back a white cuff and glanced at his watch. “It’s half past four now. I have an engagement this evening. Is there anyone who can’t make it?”

      They all shook their heads. They were each in their own individual ways very powerful and authoritative men, but now they were reacting almost like bewildered and dependent children. As he looked at them Miles suspected that none of them had really yet accepted what had happened to them. For him it was different; he had recognised her when they had not, and in recognising the tremendous leap she had made from what she had been to what she was, he had already been half way to acknowledging her power.

      “I just can’t believe it!” Alex Barnett shook his head like a man coming up for air, confirming Miles’s private thoughts. “All these years she’s been waiting…” His face changed, shock giving way to reality.

      God, what on earth was he going to say to Julia? To withdraw their application for adoption now would destroy her.

      “She’s got to be stopped.”

      Numbly he heard Simon Herries speaking, without monitoring the words, until he heard Miles saying coolly,

      “What do you have in mind, Herries? Not murder, I hope.”

      “Murder?”

      “No way.” That was Richard Howell.

      “She has to be stopped.” Simon Herries glared at the others. Inwardly his heart was thumping furiously. That bitch of a woman—she had enjoyed bringing them down, having them within her power. He could kill her for that alone, never mind the rest of it.

      “If you are in agreement I suggest that we talk the whole thing over in private. Since I live alone my place would seem to be the best venue.”

      God, how could French remain so calm! He seemed almost amused by the whole thing. Staring at him, Simon remembered how little he had trusted him in the old СКАЧАТЬ