Книга - Taken Over

Taken Over
PENNY JORDAN


Penny Jordan needs no introduction as arguably the most recognisable name writing for Mills & Boon. We have celebrated her wonderful writing with a special collection, many of which for the first time in eBook format and all available right now.Marriage for a merger… Joel Howard - arrogant, self-assured and all too aware of his sexual magnetism - reminded Cassie of the unlikelihood of anyone ever loving her. She would rather have sold her soul to the devil than ally herself with him. So she entertained a proposal from his closest competitor, dangerously underestimating Joel's desire to take over her London-based computer-games company."There's only one way I can be sure of your loyalty," Joel told her, "and that's by buying it, the same way Peter Williams intended to buy it - by marrying you. "










Celebrate the legend that is bestselling author

PENNY JORDAN

Phenomenally successful author of more than two hundred books with sales of over a hundred million copies!

Penny Jordan’s novels are loved by millions of readers all around the word in many different languages. Mills & Boon are proud to have published one hundred and eighty-seven novels and novellas written by Penny Jordan, who was a reader favourite right from her very first novel through to her last.

This beautiful digital collection offers a chance to recapture the pleasure of all of Penny Jordan’s fabulous, glamorous and romantic novels for Mills & Boon.




About the Author


PENNY JORDAN is one of Mills & Boon’s most popular authors. Sadly, Penny died from cancer on 31st December 2011, aged sixty-five. She leaves an outstanding legacy, having sold over a hundred million books around the world. She wrote a total of one hundred and eighty-seven novels for Mills & Boon, including the phenomenally successful A Perfect Family, To Love, Honour & Betray, The Perfect Sinner and Power Play, which hit the Sunday Times and New York Times bestseller lists. Loved for her distinctive voice, her success was in part because she continually broke boundaries and evolved her writing to keep up with readers’ changing tastes. Publishers Weekly said about Jordan ‘Women everywhere will find pieces of themselves in Jordan’s characters’ and this perhaps explains her enduring appeal.

Although Penny was born in Preston, Lancashire and spent her childhood there, she moved to Cheshire as a teenager and continued to live there for the rest of her life. Following the death of her husband, she moved to the small traditional Cheshire market town on which she based her much-loved Crighton books.

Penny was a member and supporter of the Romantic Novelists’ Association and the Romance Writers of America—two organisations dedicated to providing support for both published and yet-to-be-published authors. Her significant contribution to women’s fiction was recognised in 2011, when the Romantic Novelists’ Association presented Penny with a Lifetime Achievement Award.




Taken Over

Penny Jordan

















www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




CHAPTER ONE


‘CASSIETRONIC Enterprises.’ As always Cassie couldn’t quite prevent the excited leap of her heart as she glanced at the name of her company, newly engraved on the brass name plate just inside the prestige office block she had moved in to.

Had anyone told her three years ago that this was where her passion for computer games would lead her she would have scoffed at them. Then, nineteen years old, orphaned and very, very lonely she had entered the competition which had started her on her present road to success, in a mood of lonely defiance.

She hadn’t won that competition; she had come second, but looking back she was glad to be the loser because all the winner had to show for his skill was a job with Howard Electronics whilst she … She glanced again at the nameplate, her heart swelling with pride. If it hadn’t been for that chance meeting with David Bennett as she was collecting her prize … but why dwell on might-have-beens today of all days. She had met David, and he with his accountancy and financial skill had encouraged her to start her own business. This was her third year in business and she had more than rewarded David’s faith in her. Only last week a prestigious financial paper had run an article on Cassietronics, praising her flair for designing innovative new games and adaptations. Unwittingly Cassie frowned. All the publicity she had been receiving lately had had its adverse side too. She glanced down at her left hand and smiled as she caught the cold flash of her diamond engagement ring. One more month and Cassietronic would be safely installed under the umbrella of Peter’s father’s larger company, and safe from any further takeover approaches by Howard Electronics.

As she thought about Howard Electronics she frowned again, remembering how exasperated David had been by her point blank refusal to even discuss their terms. ‘But Cassie, they’re the best in the field,’ he had argued, ‘way, way ahead of Pentaton.’

In her heart of hearts Cassie knew that he was right. Joel Howard the brains behind Howard Electronics had a world wide reputation as a computer genius, whereas Peter, skilled though he was, was merely a good technician. Cassie knew that David couldn’t understand her preference for Pentatons; ‘a second class company, fast losing ground’ was how he had scathingly described them, but as Peter had enthusiastically pointed out, with her skill they could soon rebuild and expand their reputation; as his wife and the originator of Cassietronics she would be given a free hand with the future of her own company, and she would also be protected from any more takeover bids such as the one she had just been forced to endure from Joel Howard.

She knew that David would find it difficult to understand her antipathy towards Joel Howard. In David’s eyes Howard Electronics was everything Cassie could wish for—a safe harbour for her small company; a chance to expand and extend her range with the security of Howard Electronics’ financial backing behind her.

But nothing comes from nothing, Cassie had learned that lesson young, from an embittered father who had spent the best years of his life, standing helplessly by while an incompetent brother-in-law ran down, and eventually destroyed the company his father had handed down to him as his son, rather than into the hands of his far more competent but not related by blood, son-in-law. Cassie had never known if her father had married her mother purely because he wanted the company—she hoped not—but what she did know was that by the time she was ten years old her father, the brilliant maths lecturer, who had married one of his students and given up a promising career in order to help run his father-in-law’s company, had been reduced to the status of a cipher within that company, his pride destroyed; embittered by the wasteland that his life had become.

The year Cassie was ten the company had gone bankrupt; her mother had had a nervous breakdown and her father had had to return to teaching, but not this time as a respected university lecturer with all the privileges and power that entailed. The only post he had been able to obtain had been at the same huge comprehensive school Cassie attended and she had watched the disillusionment of what he had become slowly destroy her father.

Her mother had died when she was thirteen, slowly fading away until one day she simply released her hold on life, and with her father as her sole parent Cassie had learned from him the bitter lessons of his life. In his daughter he had discovered the same aptitude for maths that he had, and this skill had been honed and polished until Cassie far outstripped her fellow pupils. This had carried its own penance. It wasn’t ‘done’ for a girl to be even moderately good at maths, never mind brilliant enough to outstrip even the more senior pupils, and torn between pleasing her father and gaining the acceptance of her peers Cassie had gradually taught herself to accept that there would always be a gulf between herself and her schoolmates. Most of them treated her as though she were an alien life-form, teasing and tormenting her until she gradually withdrew from them to the extent where their barbs never touched her.

While her fellow students flirted and dated Cassie concentrated on her maths, and it had been from this that her interest in the new technology had sprung. Her father died the year she was nineteen from a heart attack, and it had been in a mood of bitter defiance at life following his death that she had entered the competition.

Her ability to design and pioneer computer games was something that still half amazed her. She had discovered in herself a deep hidden vein of imagination which, when harnessed to her mathematical skills, made her games far superior to those of her rivals.

‘Don’t ever forget that while you’re at the top of the tree now,’ David had warned her seriously, ‘computer games is a young people’s industry. One day you will grow stale, and you must prepare yourself for that day.’

She had already earned enough money not to need to worry about her financial future, and as Peter’s wife … She frowned, sighing faintly as she stepped into the lift which would take her up to her suite of offices. Her last game had been almost frighteningly successful. It had sent her company’s profits soaring, and it had been then that she first realised the dangerous waters her success was taking her into.

Other established companies had started casting envious eyes in her direction, especially the two leaders in the field, Howard Electronics and Peter’s father’s company Pentaton. She still seethed inwardly thinking of her one and only meeting—if it could be called that—with Joel Howard.

He had strolled into her office, smiling winningly at her as she lifted her head to look at him. Tall, at least six foot two, with an almost overwhelming breadth of shoulder, something inside her had retreated from him on sight. Brief memories of the agonies of her schooldays; the scorn of her class-mates and the taunting mockery of boys who had no doubt grown up into men like Joel Howard; arrogant; assured, all too aware of their sexual magnetism, surfaced and flooded out into reality, and as his navy-blue eyes skimmed over her she had been burningly aware of the plainness of her features; of her untidy cascade of mid-brown hair; the lack of elegance of her too thin five-foot-six frame; the dullness of her pale skin without make-up and the depressing ordinaryness of her hazel eyes behind the screen of the huge glasses which, in her moments of vanity, she deluded herself she needed only for close work.

That one considering look had summed her up and dismissed her—humiliatingly, the mocking warmth of his smile merely adding to the pain of the memories the sight of him stirred up. Once, long long ago she had fallen deeply in love—an adolescent crush, she recognized now, and only she could have been stupid enough to fall for the most sought-after boy in school; a boy who had made capital out of her badly hidden feelings for him, turning her into a laughing stock for his cronies. Her skin burned at the memory, and while being aware of it she had glared at Joel Howard with all the pent-up hatred of those times in her eyes.

‘My, my dragon lady,’ he had drawled, almost insultingly, she remembered, ‘whatever have I done to you? Or is it just the male race in general that you hate? I’d like to see your boss,’ he had told her, not bothering to smile this time, but eyeing her instead with cool, sardonically knowing eyes. ‘She is expecting me. My secretary made an appointment.’

Already he was looking beyond Cassie to the closed door of the inner office that was really hers. She had come into the outer office to use her secretary’s typewriter, and the bitter knowledge of how Joel Howard would view the reality of her identity had suddenly struck her. While he thought she was merely a secretary he had made no secret of his sexual contempt for her. When he discovered who she really was, no doubt he would use all the flattery and sexual skill he undoubtedly possessed to persuade her to give him what he wanted—and that wasn’t her. A mirthless laugh shook her slender body, racking it with pain. Oh no, men like Joel Howard didn’t want plain drabs of women like her. Joel Howard went for the glamorous model and actress type, she had seen his photograph in various periodicals, escorting them. He was known as the playboy king of the computer world. A man who had made a fortune by the time he was twenty-five, and who had gone on using his skill to expand his business empire until he was one of the two largest in the country. The other largest company was the one owned by Peter’s family—an older, less go-ahead company according to David, but she would rather sell her soul to the devil than ally herself to Joel Howard in any way, Cassie thought bitterly.

She didn’t want to remember the shrewdly assessing way in which his glance had slid over her tense body when she delivered the bombshell of her identity, but as she stepped out of the lift and into her office she couldn’t prevent herself doing so. He had stood there, towering over her, making her wish she had the forethought to stand up before she had told him. His suit was dark, and made of the finest, softest wool, fitting impeccably, as did his silk shirt. On the outside, he was the epitome of the successful businessman, but Cassie wasn’t deceived; at heart he was a hunter, a powerful, cruel predator, who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, and he wanted her company. Cassie had sensed that straight away, and a renewing surge of power had given her the courage to stand up to him, to deny the potent force of the charm he was directing at her, using to cloak a willpower so formidable that she could practically feel it reaching out to subdue her.

Afterwards when she had questioned David he had admitted that for once Joel Howard had bitten off slightly more than he could chew; that his investments in advanced, as yet undeveloped futuristic technology had drained his companies of capital reserves, and that if he wasn’t to be forced into abandoning his research he would have to come up with a market leader, and very quickly.

‘It isn’t Joel’s fault,’ David had assured her. ‘One of his top designers broke his contract and accepted a job in Silicone Valley—California,’ he had elucidated. ‘He took with him the new computer game he had been working on as part of Joel’s design team. Open industrial piracy, but there wasn’t a thing Joel could do about it.’

‘So now he’s decided to indulge in a little piracy of his own,’ Cassie had interrupted bitterly, ‘he wants my company—’

‘He wants to take you over, yes,’ David had agreed, mildly puzzled by the vehemency of her voice. ‘But I warned you you would have to expect this Cassie. You’re in an extremely vulnerable position at the moment—a very tempting and tasty little minnow surrounded by a dozen or more greedy dangerous sharks …’

‘And the law of the jungle being what it is, the biggest and greediest gets to gobble me up—well not this time,’ Cassie had told him emphatically.

David had tried hard to change her mind. ‘He’s the best in his field, Cassie,’ he had pointed out. ‘I can’t see what you’ve got against him.’

‘I can’t see us working together,’ Cassie had told him firmly. ‘He strikes me as the type of man who believes the best place for a woman is in the kitchen …’

She had said it scathingly, hurt and offended when David had smothered a totally male smile. Her mind made up in that instant that no matter how much David cajoled she would not allow Howard Electronics to swallow up her company.

It had been ten days after that that she had been approached by Peter Williams. She had liked him on sight, warmed by his sympathetic, hesitant manner, readily agreeing to a dinner date with him, flattered and encouraged by the interest and admiration he showed in her.

A month later he had asked her to marry him and she had agreed. Cassie had no illusions about herself. Peter would never have wanted to marry her if it hadn’t been for her company, but if she was honest with herself would she have agreed to marry him if it hadn’t been for her pressing need to protect it from Joel Howard’s aggressive greed?

It didn’t strike her as odd that she should be marrying simply for reasons of convenience. She liked Peter and they would work well together. Hopefully they would have children, although her mind withdrew timidly from the thought of physical intimacies between them. Peter had only kissed her on half a dozen or so occasions, his mouth dry and tentative, arousing only the mildest sensation of curiosity inside her.

So she had a very low sex drive; she shrugged off the waiting pain; hadn’t she always known that? And wasn’t it fortunate in the circumstances? There could be nothing worse than a plain woman longing to be made passionate love to, wasting all her life waiting for her knight on a white charger. No, although it hurt to be realistic, in the long run it was safer. She already had her independence; both financial and physical, and as she had learned from her father, that was the most important and most enduring thing in life. He had surrendered his to his wife’s family and had never ceased to regret it.

She and Peter had discussed their future carefully. She would continue to run Cassietronics independently of his father’s company. Peter would continue to work for his father. They would buy a flat in London, close to her office and then perhaps later she would work from home.

She had everything she had always wanted, Cassie told herself as she riffled through her mail, ignoring the small, nagging pain that suddenly surfaced in the memory of that tall dark-haired boy from school. How her heart and body had ached every time she looked at him. She had dreamed of his kiss, of his touch; mildly erotic painful dreams that robbed her of concentration. It was as well she had had that lesson, she told herself firmly as she applied herself to her post. She was a very wealthy young woman now, and a very vulnerable one. If she hadn’t had her dreams and illusions smashed then she could easily have been in danger of falling for some smooth-tongued opportunist who wanted her merely for her wealth.

Her aunt had warned her often enough recently that that was what could happen to her. Cassie sighed and pushed her letters to one side as she thought about Aunt Renee, her uncle’s widow. Bitterly resentful of the company’s failure, she blamed Cassie’s father for its downfall, conveniently overlooking the fact that her husband had been the one responsible for its demise. Uncle Ted was dead now like her father, and Aunt Renee, although only an aunt by marriage, was the only relative she had left. Sometimes Cassie felt as though her aunt hated her. She was bitterly vindictive about Cassie’s father, and never lost an opportunity of reminding Cassie how plain she was. Once beautiful herself she still had remnants of that beauty. She spent a fortune on clothes and at beauty salons, using the money Uncle Ted had left her to finance exotic holidays. Invariably when Cassie saw her she was being escorted by a much younger, far too handsome man. As a teenager Cassie had suffered cruelly from her malicious jibes.

Telling herself that she had missed nothing by not being beautiful Cassie suddenly froze as she flipped over a magazine and Joel Howard’s handsome face smiled back at her. Beneath the photograph was an article about a charity ‘do’ he had been attending and included in the picture was a petite, pretty blonde. Cassie’s mouth curled disdainfully. What was it when men like Joel Howard used their wealth and position to buy themselves pretty little playthings that the rest of the male world looked on in approving envy, yet when a woman did exactly the same thing, she was scorned and derided for it?

There was no such thing as equality for the sexes, Cassie thought bitterly ignoring the stabbing of her conscience which told her that Joel Howard would attract beautiful women even if he didn’t have a penny to his name. There was about him an aura of sexual magnetism that even she could sense, and wasn’t he just aware of it? That was why she disliked him so much, Cassie thought disdainfully. She loathed and despised the way he made capital out of his too obvious good looks. Yes, that’s right, she despised him, she told herself, savouring the thought, starting suddenly when the telephone rang abruptly.

She picked up the receiver, relaxing when she heard Peter’s gentle voice. What had she expected, she mocked herself. To hear Joel Howard’s deeply masculine, taunting voice? He wouldn’t approach her again. Not after the emphatic refusal to even talk to him she had given to David.

Peter was ringing to confirm the arrangements for their date that night. They were going out to celebrate their as yet unpublicised engagement, and to make arrangements for their wedding at the end of the month. Not until she was actually married to Peter would she feel completely safe, Cassie thought as she replaced the receiver. Safe? She frowned a little, force of habit encouraging her to analyse her emotions. From what or whom should she need to feel safe? Against her will her eyes were drawn to Joel Howard’s photograph and she stared blindly at it for several minutes before finally tearing her gaze away.

SHEWAS LATE leaving the office, primarily because of an idea she had suddenly had that she couldn’t wait to start working on. It was only when she happened to glance at her watch and realised the time that she had reluctantly left her computer.

Now she had barely half an hour in which to get ready for their date. Guilt smote her as she remembered the hair appointment she had made. She had wanted to look her best for Peter tonight, feeling that she owed it to him to make some special effort on his behalf. She knew why he was marrying her. It couldn’t be easy for him. She sighed faintly, studying her face in her mirror. Every feature was unremarkable save perhaps for the size and shape of her eyes and the delicate bone structure of her body, but Cassie could see no virtue in these. She was too thin; too pale and just generally too uninteresting.

When she had showered and put on clean underwear she opened her wardrobe doors. All the clothes inside it had been chosen for their anonymity; chosen to help her blend into a crowd and thus escape any criticism. Selecting a mushroom beige dress she tugged it on and fastened it. The loose, shapeless style disguised her slimness covering her from wrists to knees in dull beige. Against the dress her skin looked paler than ever, her hair even more mousy. Cassie normally wore it up in a neat chignon and she gathered it into this style with the ease of long practice. At one time she had worn it in one long plait, but she had been so teased for this at university that she had adopted a more mature style. She had once toyed with the idea of wearing contact lenses, but as she told herself that really she needed her glasses only for close work she had abandoned this idea. She put them on to apply a brief covering of make-up, adding her lipstick almost mechanically, wondering why it was that make-up did so little for her. A brief spray of the rich, oriental perfume Peter had bought for her, and she was ready. That the perfume did not suit her at all, did not concern her, Peter had chosen it and therefore she felt she must wear it.

She glanced down at the large solitaire weighing down her slender finger and picked up her coat. She was just putting it on when she heard her door.

Peter smiled when he saw her, leaning forward to give her a dutiful peck on her cheek. She couldn’t imagine Joel Howard embracing his dates so tamely. The thought made her face flame with anger. Why on earth was she thinking about him?

‘Ready?’

She nodded and smiled, following Peter outside.

‘My parents went on ahead to the restaurant,’ he told her with a smile. ‘My car’s outside.’

Peter’s parents. Cassie’s heart sank. She wasn’t too keen on her in-laws-to-be, finding Peter’s father brash and overbearing, and his mother another potential Aunt Renee. She knew that Isabel Williams was disappointed in her only son’s choice of wife; and she also sensed that even though Ralph Williams was pleased by the match, he was contemptuous of her as a woman. Sometimes Cassie felt that she wanted to scream that it wasn’t her fault that she was plain; that she still had feelings and could still be hurt, but she squashed the impulse. As she followed Peter into his car she found herself stifling the reckless desire to turn to him and demand that he kissed her, really kissed her. What on earth was the matter with her? She shivered despite the warmth of the car and Peter was instantly concerned.

‘It’s time I got a new car,’ he told her, frowning. ‘This one’s had it, but father replaced his Rolls earlier this year. Perhaps you could buy me a new car as a wedding present?’

Cassie knew that he was only teasing but somehow the words grated. She was getting oversensitive, she told herself. She had entered this engagement willingly enough; she had known why Peter had proposed; she couldn’t claim that she loved him any more than he loved her, so why this feeling of distaste; this desire to open the car door and run?

Bridal nerves? She smiled derisively. Hadn’t her father brought her up to face the truth about herself, no matter how painful? She was a plain, clever woman, whose fiancé was marrying her because of her cleverness rather than her beauty. Was that really any worse than being married for beauty? Beauty faded, ability lasted … so who really was the loser; the beauty or the blue-stocking?

Sighing, Cassie realised that they had reached the restaurant. Peter looked very attractive in his dinner suit, his fair hair gleaming under the lights in the foyer. It wasn’t his fault that despite his boyish good looks there was a weak, almost petulant droop to his mouth. He had been spoiled by his mother, Cassie knew; and she also suspected that Isabel Williams fully intended to carry on that spoiling after their marriage.

The restaurant was a popular one and full. They were shown to their table where Peter’s parents were waiting for them. Isabel Williams made a big show of kissing Cassie enthusiastically, but Cassie could see the rejection in her eyes, the smug female satisfaction in the younger woman’s plainness, and as she studied her mother-in-law-to-be’s immaculate make-up and expensive silk dress Cassie was acutely conscious of her own plain appearance.

Once their meal was ordered Isabel started to discuss plans for the wedding.

‘Talk to Cassie about that some other time,’ Ralph Williams ordered his wife. ‘Cassie, I want to set up a meeting between our two accountants …’ He went on talking and Cassie was suddenly and acutely conscious of being studied by someone outside their table.

So intense was the sensation of being watched that her skin prickled underneath it. She itched to turn round but refused to give in to the impulse, forcing herself to listen to Peter’s father. He was asking her about the work she had in progress, enquiring if she was working on anything new. She was just about to demur, hating talking about what she was doing until it was clear in her own mind, when she felt an overwhelming urge to turn round seize her. She had given in to it almost before she was aware of doing so, her breath catching in her throat as her glance clashed with the navy-blue stare of Joel Howard. He was seated two tables away, just simply watching her, oblivious to the chatter of his blonde companion. The look in his eyes was so savagely angry that Cassie rocked with the force of it. It was like shouting defiance at thunder and lighting, and her mind reeled away from the shattering impact of his anger. She had known he was angry at her refusal to talk to him, but the intensity of that rage was something she had not anticipated. It was several seconds before she could draw her glance away and in that time Peter became conscious of her lack of attention.

‘Joel Howard,’ he exclaimed in disgust, ‘what on earth is he doing here?’

His father spun round, frowning angrily at the other table. ‘He wants Cassietronics.’ He said it loudly enough for the other man to hear, and Cassie caught the flash of fury darken the navy-blue eyes to black. Fear, and something else coursed through her body, making her shake and cling to the safe security of Peter’s fingers. The stone in her engagement ring glittered and she could almost feel the instant Joel Howard’s attention became fixed on it, the expression on his face changing, hardening first to rage and then to contemptuous derision.

Quite distinctly above the murmur of conversation from the other tables Cassie heard his companion complaining, ‘Darling, what’s wrong? You look dreadfully angry.’

She could just hear Joel’s response, and as the cruelty of it drove what colour there was from her face, she knew that it had been pitched deliberately for her to hear it.

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he told the blonde, ‘I was just thinking that some men would sell their very souls, not to mention their lives, to get what they want.’

The blonde pouted, and Cassie couldn’t drag her eyes away even though she desperately wanted to. ‘Would you?’ she asked him archly. Across the intervening tables, his eyes locked on Cassie’s, contempt and derision mingling.

‘Not in this particular case,’ he drawled, and Cassie knew the words were meant for her. ‘There are some prices too high for any man to pay.’ His gaze left her face to slide contemptuously over her body and where she had been pale Cassie was now hot, with humiliation and rage; so bitter and angry that she was shaking with it. At her side Ralph Williams said something, and remembering his earlier question she replied brightly and a little too loudly.

‘As a matter of fact I am working on something new—it’s going to be a wedding present for Peter.’ She flashed a bright and totally meaningless smile at her fiancé, barely aware of what she was saying as she told him, ‘If it’s anywhere near as successful as my last one darling, it will buy you a whole fleet of new cars—and the garages to go with them.’

Ordinarily, Cassie would have been appalled by her behaviour, shrinking away from the crassness of it, but right now, all she cared about was wiping the derisive glitter from Joel Howard’s eyes; she wanted to see him humiliated as he had just humiliated her. Without saying the words he had told her plainly that in his eyes she had bought herself a husband; and that no woman would ever be allowed to buy him.

The rest of the meal passed in a daze. She drank champagne, she knew that, and she listened to toasts on their engagement. Later she and Peter danced, but although he held her close to his body, murmuring his delight at her earlier words, excitement making his body tense against hers, in reality she was far away from him, concentrating on the sight of Joel Howard, dancing with his blonde companion. Her head barely reached his shoulder and their bodies swayed together as intimately as though they had been making love … As they would make love later on. Cassie’s head swam with the intensity of her thoughts: she shivered in Peter’s arms, shaking with revulsion at the direction of her thoughts. They were an invasion of the other couple’s privacy; almost voyeuristic in their intensity and they shamed her to her soul. What was it about Joel Howard that prompted such a reaction from her; that drove her beyond the boundaries of logic and reason into a realm where emotions alone held sway?

She was relieved when the time came for them finally to leave. She was just waiting for Peter in the foyer when she felt iron fingers curl round her arm. She froze instantly, knowing with a knowledge that went beyond logic whose fingers they were.

‘Why are you marrying him?’

The contempt in his voice lashed her into swift retaliation. ‘I thought you already knew. I’m buying myself a husband. Peter is a very attractive man.’

‘Attractive enough to make you willing to part with Cassietronics?’ His voice derided her, telling her that he knew exactly why Peter was marrying her. She wanted to lash out and hurt him as he had just hurt her by laying bare the fact that without her skill, without her company Peter would never even have looked at her. It was one thing for her to know that, it was another for someone else; for him, to point that out to her, and suddenly she latched on to the thing that would wound him the deepest.

Baring her teeth in a parody of a smile, she said softly, ‘Oh no, but knowing that by marrying him I’m preventing you from getting Cassietronics makes it more than worthwhile.’

She pulled herself free of his grip before he could retaliate, walking on shaking legs to where Peter had just emerged from the cloakroom with her jacket. It was only when they reached the door that she turned round, impelled by something stronger than her will to look at Joel Howard. What she saw in his face made her pale and sway, shocked by the force of the implacable determination she saw written there; forced to acknowledge the message he was sending her with those cold, hard eyes. She might have thought she had won, but he hadn’t given up the fight yet. He still wanted her company; and he still meant to have it, with or without her consent.

As she settled into Peter’s car she was attacked by a cowardly desire to beg him to marry her tomorrow; but she fought against the impulse telling herself that she was reacting foolishly emotionally. What could Joel Howard really do? Nothing, nothing at all.




CHAPTER TWO


IT WAS almost a week since Peter had taken her out to dinner with his parents; almost a week since she had seen Joel Howard, and in that short space of time he had occupied far too many of her thoughts Cassie reflected, angered by her own inability to dismiss the man from her mind.

This afternoon she had an appointment for the first fitting of her wedding dress. Peter’s mother had made all the arrangements and Cassie glared resentfully at the entry in her diary, wishing instead that she could spend the afternoon working on her new idea.

It was always like this when a new idea came to her; she wanted to spend all the time she could developing it and it occupied her thoughts to the exclusion of everything else. Not quite everything on this occasion a small voice reminded her; there was the irritating monotony with which Joel Howard interrupted her thought processes.

Damn the man, she thought angrily. Another three weeks and she would be safely married to Peter and Cassietronics would be out of his reach for ever. That must be why she spent so much time thinking about him. That threat of his, unspoken maybe, but very real threat, none the less, was preying on her mind. Her intercom buzzed and she flicked the switch automatically. The voice of her temporary secretary, cool and disembodied reminded her of her afternoon appointment. Her own secretary had been absent with some mysterious ailment for several days but before going off ill she had arranged for a temporary girl to take her place. The temp was almost frighteningly efficient Cassie acknowledged, shrugging on the jacket of her neat tweed suit. She had owned the suit for several years, and although it was unremarkable both in cut and colour, she felt comfortable in it. It helped her to fade into the background. As she moved Peter’s ring glittered under the office lighting and she almost flinched from its gleam. It wasn’t really her sort of ring at all, far too cold and brash; chosen for show—rather like her marriage an inner voice taunted—but Cassie firmly dismissed it. As yet she and Peter had made no formal announcement to the press of their engagement. Peter’s father had suggested they wait until just before the wedding; had in fact told them that he would call a press conference for that day, at which the announcement would be made. Although she had said nothing at the time, Cassie frowned a little, wondering if she was quite happy about the way Peter’s father seemed to be ruling their lives. Peter was weak where his parents were concerned, and although initially that had not worried her, gradually she was coming to see their power over him as a cause for concern. What would happen if there were ever to be a clash between Pentaton’s interests and those of Cassietronics? Would Peter support her?

Telling herself that she was just suffering from pre-nuptial nerves Cassie let herself out of her office. The temporary secretary; a tall, attractive brunette smiled at her, but Cassie ignored her smile. The other girl was poised and attractive, her very self-confidence making Cassie miserably aware of her own short-comings. Although she was only wearing a very simple skirt and blouse the rich emerald colour provided a stark contrast for Cassie’s own drab oatmeal outfit.

Would there ever come a day when the sight of a pretty woman didn’t immediately underline and reinforce her own insecurities Cassie wondered bitterly, as she left the office.

Her car was parked in the basement car park, and she had already told the temp that she didn’t expect to be back that afternoon. In the capacious bag she always carried with her were the notes she had jotted down for her new game. Perhaps this evening she would get an opportunity to work on them. The initial stages of creating a new game were always very absorbing, and as she pressed the basement button in the lift Cassie felt her doubts and dreads slip away as she was filled with the familiar tide of exultation a new venture always brought her.

By the time she stepped out of the lift she was feeling much more optimistic. The basement was murkily dark after the bright light of the lift, and while she waited for her eyes to adjust she made her way automatically to her parking bay. As she reached her car she frowned over the selfish way in which the owner of the next bay had parked his vehicle, almost, but not quite blocking her in. The car was unfamiliar to her, long and sleek, its black paintwork glittering almost menacingly.

As she drew nearer she recognised its distinctive trademark and her mouth curled disdainfully. A Ferrari, no doubt the proud possession of some image-conscious, successful businessman occupying one of the other offices. Without bothering to give it another glance Cassie extracted her keys from her bag and bent to insert them into the lock.

The totally unexpected pressure of strong fingers on her arm made her freeze, her heart thudding in instinctive terror as fear drove a surge of adrenalin through her veins. Without stopping to think or reason Cassie tried to pull away, fear clawing frantically inside her. Her free hand lashed out at her foe, palm and fingers smarting from the blow she managed to land against a frighteningly hard torso.

‘Stop it, I don’t intend to hurt you.’ Her free hand was tethered, imprisoned with its fellow behind her back in the same instant that she was spun round to face her assailant.

The sight of him was almost as terrifying as discovering his presence. The colour drained from Cassie’s face as she stared up into familiar ink-blue eyes and then unwillingly down over a hard boned male face to the grim line of a mouth drawn into a hard curl of disdain.

‘If you always react like that when a man touches you, Peter Williams must have been dreading his honeymoon.’

The mocking words infiltrated her brain slowly because it was far too busy trying to come to terms with the identity of her attacker.

‘Just as well I’m going to save him the ordeal isn’t it?’

Cassie’s mind refused to function. She stared disbelievingly up into Joel Howard’s face, barely taking in what he was saying.

Still holding her tethered with one hand, he used the other to reach behind him and snap open the passenger door of the Ferrari.

Stupidly Cassie stared at it. ‘That’s your car?’

Without deigning to answer her he pulled open the door, half pushing and half lifting her into the seat. His actions released Cassie from her frozen state and she started to fight to get free, pushing against the hard muscled wall of his chest as he leaned across her securing the seat belt.

‘Stop that.’ His voice was curt. ‘I don’t want to have to use violence, but that doesn’t mean I won’t, if I need to …’

The tone of his voice warned Cassie that he was telling the truth. Abruptly she retreated from him, tensing back in her seat like a small animal trying to curl into a protective ball.

‘I don’t understand,’ she told him shakily. ‘What is this all about?’

His car door slammed as he got in beside her, pressing a button. The faint click told Cassie what he had done and she looked wildly at her door reaching for the handle.

‘Too late, I’ve just locked us in.’ The laconic voice agitated her already overwrought nerves.

‘Will you please tell me what stupid game you think you’re playing,’ she demanded wildly. ‘I’m supposed to be on my way to a fitting for my wedding dress, and you’re making me late.’

‘Since you won’t be wearing it, that hardly matters,’ he told her coolly, snapping on his own seat belt and switching on the engine. ‘Did you really think I’d sit tamely by and let you destroy everything I’d worked for over the last ten years?’

Muzzily Cassie shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. ‘I’m not going to let you take over my company, if that’s what all this is about,’ she told him defiantly. ‘And no amount of sweettalk from you will persuade me. How did you know that I would be here this afternoon?’ she demanded, suddenly suspicious.

‘Easy. I persuaded your secretary to take a few days off so that mine could monitor your comings and goings.’

‘Your secretary.’ Cassie was bitterly enraged. ‘No doubt she much prefers working for you than me,’ she told him sarcastically remembering the girl’s immaculate grooming and pretty face.

‘No doubt,’ Joel Howard replied smoothly, ‘but she’ll be amply rewarded for her efforts.’

His tone and the look that accompanied it gave Cassie the distinct impression that Joel Howard believed that every female alive had her price if one was prepared to pay it. He had, she thought in quick surprise, almost as low an opinion of her sex as she had of his. She frowned, realising the strangeness of this thought. She would have expected a man as sexually compelling as Joel would be a devout admirer of the female sex; after all there was no doubt that he was thoroughly spoiled by it, so why did she have the impression that he despised, even perhaps, disliked women.

‘And how will you reward her,’ she flashed back at him, angered as much by her own thoughts as by his manner. ‘In cash or in kind …’

She saw his face harden as his hands gripped the wheel of his car.

‘Don’t try the clever comments on me,’ he advised her harshly. ‘It’s hardly my fault if your sex is so open to bribery, is it?’

‘Throughout the ages women have been forced to use what weapons they can against men, because men persist in considering them their inferiors,’ Cassie told him spiritedly, her mouth twisting bitterly as she remembered the price she had been forced to pay for her clever mathematical brain both by her own and the male sex.

‘I don’t have time to argue semantics right now,’ Joel told her hardily, ‘we’ve got an appointment to keep.’

‘An appointment?’ Cassie’s heart leapt in fear. ‘You can’t force me to sign over my company to you.’

‘Susan tells me you’re working on a new game.’ He had changed the subject completely and there wasn’t a thing Cassie could do about it.

She blinked dizzied by their sudden emergence into the daylight, wondering if she could possibly attract someone’s attention to the fact that she had been taken prisoner against her will; that she was virtually being abducted by this insufferably arrogant male creature who didn’t seem to be able to take ‘no’ for an answer.

‘And if I am?’ she responded, refusing to let him see how frightened she really was. Not for herself. She knew he intended her no physical harm. No, it was the compulsive strength of will; the powerful determination cloaked by the sophisticated façade that frightened her. He was, she recognised fearfully, a man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. And he wanted her company.

‘If it’s as successful as your last one, it will turn Pentatons into the leading electronic games company in the UK.’ He took his attention off the road for a second to give her a thin-lipped and bitter look. ‘By the same token it will almost completely destroy my company and that’s something I cannot allow to happen. I need the revenues and the status of being the number one games company in this country to persuade the government to continue with the aid they’ve been giving me for several new ventures we’re working on. We’ve almost reached the breakthrough point. Another six months and we’ll have cleared the danger point; the first of our new, advanced designs will be through the initial stages and we can make announcements to the press that will secure their future, but all that will only come about if I can maintain my position as market leader for that space of time and if you marry Peter Williams and merge your company, your skill, with Pentaton that will be impossible.’ He broke off to turn left, and then smiled at her again, a smile that made her blood run cold. ‘So you can see why, I am sure, with that keen, sharp brain of yours why I simply cannot allow you to marry him.’

Petrified though she was Cassie managed to retort coldly, ‘And how do you propose to stop me?’

The minute the pert question was asked, she regretted it. She saw from the expression on his face that he was going to enjoy giving her the answer, and a roaring tide of apprehension flooded through her nervous system making her shiver spasmodically.

‘Quite simple,’ he told her softly, ‘I intend to marry you myself. It’s all arranged. I’ve got the special licence; the ceremony has been organised.’

Cassie’s reaction was instinctive and immediate. ‘Stop this car at once,’ she demanded huskily. ‘You must be mad if you think you can get away with this.’

His mirthless laughter chilled her over-heated skin. ‘With careful planning and proper forethought one can get away with a great deal.’

‘You can’t make me marry you if I don’t want to.’ Cassie was appalled to hear her voice tremble, and she knew by the brief, triumphant smile that curved his hard mouth that Joel Howard had spotted her momentary weakness as well.

‘I shouldn’t be too sure about that if I were you,’ he told her, adding almost musingly, ‘It’s marvellous what they can do with drugs these days, isn’t it?’

‘You wouldn’t drug me?’ Cassie was aghast. Surely not even a man like Joel Howard would go to such lengths?

‘Not with anything dangerous,’ he agreed, stopping the car at traffic lights and turning to watch her. ‘But believe me, Cassie, I need this marriage to you. I won’t see all my hard work wasted because you’re vain and stupid enough to fall for a weakling like Peter Williams. Do you honestly believe he cares about you?’

His question; the scorn in his voice; the intimation that no man worthy of the name could possibly find her attractive, bit into Cassie’s pride making her recoil with the pain of the wounds he was causing, but before she could retaliate caution intruded. Joel Howard was dangerous; all the more so for being determined to carry out his plan of action. Cassie wasn’t a fool; she could see how much the success of his ventures meant to him and she could also easily believe that he would stop at nothing to achieve that success. Quickly she thought and came up with the only way she could escape her present situation, galling to her pride though it was.

‘I’ll sell you the company,’ she told him with quick bitterness. ‘Stop the car and take me back to my office …’

‘And let you go running to the Williams family for protection?’ Joel Howard laughed soundlessly, ‘Oh, no, Cassie, there’s only one way I can be sure of your loyalty and that’s by buying it the same way Peter Williams intended to buy it—by marrying you.’

It was on the tip of Cassie’s tongue to deny his assertion that the only way she could get a husband was by exchanging her company for one; and that furthermore the main reason she was marrying Peter was to stop him from taking over Cassietronics, but she quickly saw the pitfalls of such an announcement.

‘Peter …’

‘Loves you?’ he derided. ‘He loves no one but himself. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror recently, Cassie? Do you really think …’

The sheer cruelty of what she was sure he was about to say took Cassie’s breath away for a second. Pain, searing and brutally sharp tore through her body, and just for a handful of seconds she longed to make him retract his words; to have him look at her with admiration and awe, to want her as … ‘No.’ Cassie was unaware of her sharply cried denial, her face white and set as she tried to come to terms with her thoughts, shivering in mute reaction to the danger of them. What was she thinking? It was Joel Howard’s fault; she thought angrily. He had got her in such an emotionally vulnerable state that she didn’t know what she was thinking. Of course she didn’t want him to find her attractive; even if such an improbability were possible she wouldn’t want it; she wouldn’t want him.

‘Even if you manage to force me to go through with this farce of a marriage, you won’t be able to stop me from going to the Press and telling them the truth,’ she told him fiercely, fighting against her emotions and summoning all her reasoning powers to her aid. She would need every ounce of logic and analytical skill she possessed if she was to best this man; an instinct that was purely feminine told her that.

‘Go ahead,’ he invited drawingly, ‘but you’ll be using a two-edged sword if you do. What do you think it will do to your own credibility, to the reputation of your company, if you told the truth and were believed?’

He gave her a few seconds to digest his comment before looking at her again. They were leaving the city behind them now, heading for the Cotswolds Cassie noticed absently as she struggled to find a way to deny his comments.

‘All right, so you’d ruin my reputation, but you’d also destroy your own company. There’s no one to touch you for computer games in this country and with you out of business my computer games division would be number one again. With confidence restored in our ability to be innovative; to remain leaders of the field, I’d have no problem at all in attracting the finance I need to continue with the other work I have in hand.’

Computer electronics was his field as Cassie knew, and torn between a blazing exhibition of temper and simply saying nothing she burst out bitterly, ‘What is this revolutionary something you’re working on anyway? Some sort of miracle robot?’

‘You’re getting warm. I might as well tell you because there’s no one else in the field anywhere near advanced to rival us in this development. We’ve been working on a computer controlled device that can be used for micro surgery. It’s faster and better than any human could ever be—both advantages when it comes to sewing back a severed limb or working on delicate areas of the brain, and since it’s controlled by the surgeon in charge in effect it’s an extension of his hands, accurate and capable of working to the millionth of a degree. Although we do have a lot of support, as with anything new we also have a lot of detractors, people who say that government money would be better spent on more nurses and doctors; hence my concern to ensure that our backers aren’t frightened off. With my computer games division demoted to second place those who are against what we’re working on will be quick to use it to hold up the flow of funds we need to complete the development.’

For a moment Cassie was awed by what he had told her. Her own skill was something she took for granted; the large revenues it brought her in still sometimes overwhelming, but when all was said and done they were merely games. She felt humbled by what she had just heard and resentful of feeling humbled at the same time.

‘Joel …’ It was the first time she had ever used his name and she caught the faint flutter of surprise crossing his face. ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ she told him quickly, ‘I will let you take over Cassietronics.’

She was completely sincere in what she had said, believing that what he was working on was far more important than her own dislike of him, but the look on his face turned her humility to anger as he mocked tauntingly, ‘That soft, womanly approach has been tried on me by experts, Cassie, and without success. I learned one thing very young and that one thing was never trust a female. For all that you dress like a drab little sparrow you’re still a member of the female sex. Oh no, my dear, that won’t work. I do have the intelligence to realise what you’re up to you know. I turn round and drive you back to your office and the moment I leave you, it’s straight to Peter Williams … No … There really is no other way.’

‘You mean you’re prepared to sacrifice your freedom; to marry a plain drab little sparrow purely for altruistic love of your fellow man?’ Cassie flung at him bitterly, anger seeping through her as she came up against the brick wall of his masculine contempt for her sex. Who had taught him not to trust women she wondered and then dismissed the thought as a weakness she shouldn’t encourage. She didn’t want to know anything about this dark, powerful man. Already he had invaded her life to an extent that made her afraid; the less she knew about him personally, the safer she would be.

‘It will be a marriage on paper only,’ he replied coolly, ‘lasting perhaps only six months if things go according to plan. And as for giving up my freedom …’ His glance mocked her. ‘Why on earth should I do that? Unless of course you’re trying to tell me that you’re prepared to share your body with me as well as your company.’

Colour flared hotly in Cassie’s face as she heard his comment. He was making fun of her she thought bitterly. She knew how little he would want a woman like her; a woman who was neither attractive nor witty; a woman who was still really an inexperienced adolescent, far too unattractive to have ever caught his eye, if he hadn’t wanted her company.

‘I promise you I’d be a far better lover than Peter Williams …’ The soft, dulcet promise behind the words made Cassie’s anger burn hotter. He was playing with her, tormenting her all the time knowing that she was the last woman he would want in his bed.

‘Technically perhaps,’ Cassie agreed, marvelling at the cool derision she had managed to inject into her voice. The look of slight surprise dawning in the dark blue eyes as they studied her gave her the encouragement to go on, ‘But I happen to …’

‘Love Williams?’ Joel interrupted for her. ‘Why? Because he spared you a few kisses and caresses, and for all your brave talk my dear, I doubt it’s gone beyond that. You have about you a look of cool purity that I don’t believe is assumed. Does the cold virgin you’ve locked away behind the walls of your intelligence ever rebel, Cassie? Doesn’t she ever long to give herself freely and wholeheartedly to the heat of passion?’

His words, edged with scorn as they were, reminded Cassie of all the cruel barbs she had endured as an adolescent, almost without being aware of it she retreated mentally from him, escaping into that small corner of herself she kept hidden from the world. A look of cool dismissal informed the hazel wariness of her eyes, her body composed and outwardly relaxed as she said lightly, ‘You’re free to make whatever assumptions about me you wish—just as I’m free not to respond to them. I conceded that you’ve been very clever; that unless I want to destroy everything I’ve worked for I have to go along with your plans; to agree to this marriage, but I have no intention of living with you as your wife.’

‘Not in the fullest sense of the word perhaps,’ he agreed, startling her, ‘but I certainly intend that our marriage is seen to be completely normal for its brief duration.’

Cassie was stunned enough to demand huskily, ‘But why? You can’t possibly want …’

‘What I don’t want,’ he said ruthlessly cutting off her words, ‘is to become the butt of every City joke there is, and if you’re wise you’ll share my feelings. I’ll tell the press that it was a whirlwind romance—they already know I want to take over Cassietronics; romantically inclined as they are it will be an easy step for them to believe our romance began when I approached you with my takeover bid.’

‘And in six months’ time when the marriage is over?’ Why oh why did her voice sound so husky, so hurting somehow, as though already she dreaded the ending that was to come?

‘We’ll say it didn’t work out,’ he shrugged. ‘We’ll face that when we come to it …’

‘And all your …’ Cassie’s upper lip curled slightly in distaste, ‘women friends … Will they honestly believe that you preferred a drab little sparrow like me to them?’

‘What they believe isn’t important,’ he told her carelessly, with a monumental display of arrogance. His expression changed as he added curtly, ‘You seem to take a perverse delight in running yourself down. Why I wonder? A defensive mechanism perhaps, doing it before anyone else can do it for you?’

He saw too much; came too close to the truth. Desperate to change the subject before he probed any deeper she blurted out, ‘And once we are married? Where will we live … W …’

‘I shall continue to live in London—I have an apartment there.’ He frowned, and Cassie wondered what he was thinking. Of the pleasures he would have to give up for the six months’ duration of their marriage? When he next spoke his words shocked her into bitter anger; betraying as they did how far his ideas of how their marriage would work differed from hers.

‘I own a house in the Cotswolds—a small estate really. I thought you could live there. There’s plenty of space and all the peace and quite you need to work.’

‘In other words, discreetly out of your way,’ she said furiously, watching his mouth thin and his eyes harden as he turned towards her.

‘What are you trying to say?’ he asked her coldly. ‘That you want to share the apartment with me? That you want to share my bed? Was that the price you demanded from Peter Williams for your company? I wonder if Peter was as happy with the bargain as his father? He’s known to have a taste for glamorous blondes,’ he added cruelly, surveying her with open contempt. ‘Hardly your style, but then no doubt his father simply told him to close his eyes and think of Pentatons.’

The sharp sound of her palm connecting with his lean jaw shocked Cassie. She had never hit anyone in anger before in her life, and her face went white as she stared into navy-blue eyes, boring into hers, burning with a heat that made her shiver with fear.

‘If you ever do that again, I promise you I’ll hit you back,’ Joel told her thickly. ‘Apart from the fact that you could have caused an accident, I won’t tolerate a vitriolic woman.’

‘And I won’t tolerate being insulted the way you’ve just insulted me,’ Cassie choked back at him. How dare he suggest what he had just suggested? Her body burned with the humiliation of it.

‘Why all the emotion?’ he queried softly, ‘Is it because you think I could be right?’

Cassie didn’t deign to answer but sat in icy silence as the powerful car ate up the miles. Inside she was crying out in pain but she would die rather than let Joel Howard see one jot of her anguish. As she stared unseeingly through the windscreen in front of her, only one thought occupied her mind, to the exclusion of all others; and that was a burning desire to make him retract his words; to make him look at her and ache with need for her; and that was surely the most ridiculous, pathetic daydream she had indulged in in all her life; Joel Howard would never, ever want a woman like her.




CHAPTER THREE


THEY reached their destination early in the evening, and Cassie had her first glimpse of Howard Court, just as the late spring sun was setting, bathing the Cotswold stone in a soft rose glow, making the house shimmer like a precious jewel in its rich setting.

When Joel had mentioned an estate she hadn’t visualised anything like this. The house wasn’t particularly large, but it was old, and very, very gracious, mellowed by time until it blended with the landscape, an inescapable part of a perfect whole.

The house itself was vaguely Elizabethan; green lawns and climbing roses in bud the first things that caught Cassie’s eye. It was a dream of a house she thought enviously; it conjured up images of a happy family, of security, love and care. She turned to Joel, too bemused to hold back her pleasure and checked as she saw the dark, almost brooding expression in his eyes. Was he having second thoughts about marrying her? Her heart leapt and it was several seconds before she realised it hadn’t jumped in relief.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said huskily, to cover the shock of her own discovery. ‘Have you … have you owned it long?’

She was making the natural assumption that he had bought the house with the profits from his successful companies, as so many businessmen did, but his mouth curled sardonically as he responded curtly, ‘Personally no, but it’s been in my family since the sixteenth century. I inherited it when my father died, a couple of years ago …’ His face closed up and looked bitter again, and Cassie wondered if perhaps he had been particularly close to the older man and that was why he looked so angry.

‘I brought you here so that you could change.’ He saw her look of surprise and told her coldly, ‘I’ve arranged for our marriage to be performed by our local vicar. Howards have always married from the village church, and although he accepts that we only want a quiet ceremony—I’m afraid I led him to believe our impatience sprang more from mutual desire than from any practical reasons; he will naturally except you to look a little bridelike.’

‘But I haven’t got anything to change into,’ Cassie protested.

‘That’s all taken care of. Come on.’ He stopped the car and got out, coming round to her door. No doubt to prevent her from running off Cassie thought bitterly.

Even when he inserted the key into the front door he retained his grip on her arm, his fingers biting into the tender flesh, heating her skin beneath the jacket of her suit. His proximity did strange things to her senses, bemusing them in a way that puzzled and alarmed her. She could smell the male scent of him, warm and faintly musky but instead of being repelled she found it made her want to move closer to him.

Fortunately before she could give in to the alien emotion they were inside the house, stepping on a polished parquet floor.

Motes of dust danced in the air, and she frowned over the hall’s look of neglect, wondering how Joel could bear to let this perfect gem of a house look anything less than perfect.

‘Upstairs, third on the right,’ he told her curtly, ‘I’ll be waiting outside the door, and there’s no ‘phone so don’t waste your time looking for one. I’ll give you fifteen minutes to get ready and if you aren’t changed in that time, I’ll come in and dress you myself. Understood?’

Yes, Cassie understood all right and she understood too there would be nothing kind in his hands or touch if he was forced to carry out his threat; rather that it would hold all the cruelty of indifference and distaste, and as she preceded him up the stairs she made a mental vow that she would never, ever give Joel Howard any opportunity to touch her; so that she would never be forced to acknowledge the depth of his contemptuous indifference to her.

The bedroom he had given her faced the back of the house, the windows looking down over an enclosed cobbled courtyard. Urns which had once held flowers stood empty and uncared for, echoing the air of neglect that permeated the whole house. It felt unloved Cassie thought curiously, and yet if ever a house cried out for love and care it was this one.

She had the impression that Joel almost resented it, and yet if that was the case why keep the estate; why not sell it?

Puzzling over the strange anomalies apparent in his personality she washed quickly in the en suite bathroom, emerging dressed in her plain cotton bra and briefs to study the outfit laid out across the bed.

As she looked at it pain and rage mingled in her heart. The dress was a soft creamy white, a confection of delicate lace and fragile silk; a dress designed for a girl like the blonde she had seen Joel dining with or the secretary he had sent to spy on her. Which of them had chosen it, she wondered, acknowledging the cruelty of the mind that had picked such a delicate feminine dress for a woman who had no female graces.

Mindful of Joel’s threat she put it on quickly, struggling with the zip which refused to move more than an inch or so above her waist. Temper lent a warm colour to her skin, her hazel eyes more green than golden as she continued to struggle. The silk moulded her body delicately, the ruffles of lace whispering softly as she moved. Some of the pins had escaped from her chignon and strands of hair hung down round her face. Feeling hot and angry she twisted round trying to see what was impeding the closing of the zip. A tiny fragment of fabric seemed to be caught in it, but she could move the fastener neither up nor down and time was running out. A pretty, tiny hat with a provocative veil lay on the bed and she shuddered away from it, all too well able to picture the contrast between that delicately frivolous ornamentation and the heavy frames of her glasses. Impelled by some instinct she couldn’t name, she took them off, and stared blearily at her fuzzy reflection. She was just about to put them on when the door opened inward, and Joel strode in. Without her glasses she couldn’t see his reflection but she could tell he was angry by the taut way he moved.





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