Slave to love, p.9
Slave to Love, page 9
What do you think you’re playing at? her angry green gaze demanded.
What the hell do you think? his angry expression replied, daring her to make a scene by denying his right to be so possessive. A moment’s battle with their eyes, with the tension beginning to flow between them, not all due to this particular situation, and she lowered her eyes, the sound of lazy music and the fact that they were not alone on the small dance-floor making her uncomfortably aware of the interest they were causing and forcing her to concede the battle to him.
Another kiss brushed her mouth, consolidating his victory, and she wanted to slap his arrogant face! He knew it, too, because she heard him utter a soft laugh, then, ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your—companion, darling?’ he prompted silkily.
‘This is Karl Loring,’ she reluctantly complied. ‘A friend of Joel’s and my interpreter while I’m here in Zurich. Karl—’ she lifted uncomfortable eyes to him, not surprised to find him studying them both narrowly ‘—this is Solomon Maclaine. Joel’s brother,’ she added, quite unnecessarily, she realised almost immediately, because she had only had to mention Mac’s name for Karl to stiffen up in recognition, but she finished the introduction anyway. ‘And, of course, my—’
Boss, she had been going to say, but Mac pre-empted her. ‘I think Mr Loring understands exactly what I am to you, darling,’ he mocked, and turned his attention to Karl while Roberta struggled to control the hot flush of mortification trying to mount her cheeks. ‘Nice to meet you at last, Mr Loring,’ he acknowledged, with an amiable nod of his dark head. ‘My brother has spoken of you, of course.’
Karl returned the gesture with his head, and Roberta noticed curiously that he had gone quite pale. ‘I was not aware that you were in Zurich, Mr Maclaine,’ he murmured softly.
‘No?’ Mac frowned. ‘I’m surprised that Joel never mentioned the change in plan to you... Still,’ he added after a thoughtful moment, ‘I don’t suppose he would when my reasons for being here are purely personal—which reminds me—’ he smiled ‘—thank you for taking care of Roberta this evening.’ That rueful grin touched his mouth. ‘She hates it when I have to place her second over business, don’t you darling?’ he added, to reinforce the rotten gibe.
She tried to pull away from him, but he stopped her by tugging her close into his side, strong fingers increasing their claim to possession by settling along her ribcage right beneath the swell of her breasts. ‘But I’m here now.’ He glanced down at her hot and angry face. ‘So stop pouting,’ he scolded softly. ‘I’ll make it up to you later.’
He was treating her like some—some empty-headed bimbo! And fury shot like silver lances into her green, green eyes. Mac fielded the look with a mocking one, sleek black brows arching in challenge for her to dare deny a single word he had said.
She couldn’t and he knew it. Mac was her boss, after all. To show him up as an over-presumptuous fool would mean showing up the whole Maclaine empire as the same. She couldn’t do it, and lowered her head instead so that Karl would not see the mutinous frustration burning in her eyes.
But Mac was having none of it. He wanted his pound of flesh from her, and was determined to get it. So once again she felt that possessive hand tug at her slender body, shifting her even closer to his hard-packed frame. ‘Say thank you nicely to Mr Loring for looking after you this evening, Roberta,’ he prompted silkily. ‘It’s late and I’m—tired.’
God, I hate you! she thought viciously, and had to fight to lift her embarrassed face to Karl’s still pale one. ‘Thank you,’ she said dutifully, then rebellion struck and, instead of offering him her hand as good manners demanded she do, she leaned away from Mac to place a light kiss on Karl’s stiff cheek. ‘Sorry to have to cut our evening so short,’ she murmured as she drew away.
Instead of taking some gratification from her gesture, Karl reacted as if he had been shot, jerking his head back from her and staring at Mac as though he expected the other man to punch out his lights.
‘No problem—no problem,’ he quickly reassured her. ‘Mr Maclaine is quite right and it is late. And I have a few phone calls to make before I...’ He floundered, and Roberta stared at him in angry frustration. Coward, she thought bitterly. Mac stakes his claim and you back right off! So much for your macho image! ‘Nice to have met you, Mr Maclaine.’ Warily he stuck out a hand towards Mac. ‘No doubt we will meet again tomorrow?’ Mac’s brows rose in enquiry. ‘F-for the meeting with Franc Brunner,’ Karl elucidated.
Mac didn’t answer, and whatever passed between the two men via their eyes made Karl go even paler and make his exit so hurriedly that Roberta scoffed out a sound of scorn as she followed him contemptuously with her eyes.
‘If he breaks into a run, I think I shall be sick!’ she muttered disdainfully, turning her attention back to Mac.
Mac’s eyes were narrowed as he too watched Karl’s hurried exit. ‘Like he said,’ he murmured thoughtfully, ‘he needs to make a couple of phone calls.’
‘At this time of night? To whom?’ she derided scathingly. ‘He’s running because of your clever hands-off-my-property tactics!’ She glared furiously up at him. ‘When are you going to accept that I mean it when I say I don’t belong to you any more?’
‘Come here,’ he murmured.
‘No.’
‘Yes,’ he insisted, and drew her into his arms, moving her smoothly into rhythm with the music, his dark head lowering until his mouth hovered softly against her ear. ‘My woman, bunny rabbit,’ he whispered. ‘Mine, whether you want to be or not.’
‘How typically arrogant!’ she snapped.
‘How typically you, that you fight with your tongue while your body curls so deliciously into mine.’
Startled, she went still, only then aware of how instinctively her arms had curved around his shoulders, her body arching towards his.
‘Damn you,’ she muttered, and pulled away. ‘I’m going to bed,’ she announced, turning to walk off the dance-floor.
‘Good.’ Mac’s arm came comfortably across her shoulders. ‘I’m coming with you.’
‘Not to my bed, you’re not,’ she informed him. ‘I was actually enjoying myself tonight until you came along!’ she sighed out frustratedly as they reached the waiting lift.
‘I noticed,’ he drawled as he lifted an arm to stop the lift doors closing while he ushered her inside.
His sudden change in tone alone made her glance sharply at him. ‘You were watching us!’ Roberta accused, seeing the sudden angry glint in his narrowed eyes.
‘Right from opening to grand finale,’ he mocked, stabbing a hard finger at the lift console then leaning his shoulders back against the wall as the door slid shut. He fixed her with a bitter look. ‘So I also saw the way you looked at him,’ he said tightly. ‘And the pleasure you found dancing in his arms! And—goddammit, Roberta,’ he exploded suddenly, ‘but I also saw you wondering just what it would be like to take him to your damned bed!’
‘That’s a lie,’ she cried, giving him back look for angry look.
‘Is it?’ he clipped. ‘You mean you didn’t wonder—just once—what it would be like to have him as your lover instead of me?’
‘I—’ God, had she been so obvious? Colour surged into her cheeks. Never a good liar, she found she couldn’t lie now, even when it was none of his business what she was thinking!
‘Well, let me tell you something, sweetheart,’ he murmured grimly. ‘You’ll never know. Not if you value your job in my company, that is.’
‘What—what do you mean?’ she questioned warily, not liking the dangerous look in his eyes.
‘I mean,’ he said, ‘that Karl Loring is right off the agenda where you are concerned—and that,’ he added threateningly when she went to protest, ‘is an order, direct from your chairman—not just the jealous lover.’
‘Ex-lover,’ she corrected mutinously.
‘It will be ex-chairman to you, too, if you disobey me on this, Roberta. I am that serious. Karl Loring is out, or you’ll be out of my company. It’s as cut and dried as that!’
And that, she made thorough note, was the boss in him speaking. A boss who never said a word without meaning it.
The lift stopped, the doors sliding smoothly open, which was a good job because it gave her something to do with her frustration—she could stalk out into the hallway and storm along to her room.
He was right behind her. Of course he was right behind her! she acknowledged angrily. This was Solomon Maclaine, and nothing fazed him, not even the withering look she had sent him before she left the lift!
‘I told you...’ she began to protest when he was still right behind her as she opened her suite door.
‘And I told you,’ he countered, his hand at the base of her spine, propelling her into the room so that he could follow.
Literally seething with angry frustration, she rounded on him. ‘Just because you pay my wages, Mr Maclaine,’ she began furiously, ‘it doesn’t mean you can—’
He walked right past her, grim indifference to anything she might want to say scored into his arrogant face as he walked across the room then paused by the low coffee-table. ‘Where is the Franc Brunner file?’ he asked.
‘I— Locked away in my briefcase,’ she told him, momentarily stumped by his quick change from angry lover—ex-lover—to grimly focused businessman.
‘Get it,’ he commanded.
Frowning in confusion, she went to fetch it from the bedroom. ‘I thought you said you weren’t going to get involved with this deal,’ she said as she came back.
‘There were a few provisos attached to that statement, if I remember correctly,’ he mocked. ‘But,’ he then added grimly, ‘things have changed. And neither of us is getting involved with it.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked as he reached for the file.
‘Quite simply what I said,’ he answered shortly. ‘Two can play at Franc Brunner’s little game. And from now on neither you nor I are available for talks, meetings or anything for the next few days.’
‘But I have a meeting all set up with Brunner tomorrow, and Karl is—’
‘Cancel,’ he said. ‘Cancel both. And don’t do it yourself,’ he added as an afterthought. ‘Get Reception to do it for you. I want no contact—none whatsoever—between you and Loring or Brunner.’
‘But—Karl is on our side, Mac,’ she reminded him confusedly. ‘Why play footsie with him?’
‘Karl Loring is certainly not on our side, Miss Chandler,’ he corrected quietly. ‘Karl Loring is on Karl Loring’s side. He’s in cahoots with Franc Brunner, probably on commission, so it’s in his best interests to get the most he can out of us before Brunner signs anything. Joel and Loring were friends in their college days. When Brunner began to set this deal up Joel contacted Loring to pick his brains over Brunner’s reputation. Loring saw instantly that he had a chance at getting in on this deal so he offered his services—to both men. His ultimate goal being to line his own pocket, of course.’
‘You mean,’ Roberta gasped in horror, ‘that Karl Loring has actually been using his friendship with Joel to squeeze as much out of him as he could?’
Mac nodded, his attention seemingly fixed on the stack of papers he was busily sifting through. ‘The first rule of survival in the world of big business, Roberta, is never to trust anyone, not even your friends. Joel knows that,’ he added grimly. ‘But he conveniently forgot that rule with Loring and deferred to his friendly advice right the way along the line.’
Feeling a bit as though she had just been knocked down by a steamroller, Roberta sank into the nearest chair, trying to work out how Mac had come by that conclusion when as far as she had seen there was nothing—nothing—to make him suspect such a thing!
‘I don’t see how you can possibly know all of this for sure,’ she murmured dazedly in the end.
‘Quite easily,’ Mac said. ‘Last night I went round to Joel’s flat to thump him again for trying to move in on you, and—’
‘Oh, you didn’t hit him again, did you?’ Roberta put in concernedly.
To her surprise, Mac smiled. ‘He was too damned drunk to punch,’ he told her ruefully.
‘Lou Sales,’ she remembered, and found herself smiling with him.
‘But while he was rambling on about you, me, him and a lot of other stuff I didn’t for one moment understand he also managed to show his concern for this deal,’ he explained. ‘And the mess he knew he was making of it.’
‘So, you’re here expressly to sort this all out for Joel?’ she demanded, beginning to feel the first rumbling of hard suspicion.
‘Of course,’ he answered smoothly.
‘Yet you’ve been refusing to help me sort it all out!’ she cried. Then another thought hit her, narrowing her eyes and making her hands clench angrily at her sides. ‘Why am I here, Mac?’ she demanded quietly.
Mac glanced at her, and that was all it took for the very last penny to drop home. ‘You’re here as my hands-on assistant,’ he mocked. ‘Anything to say to that, Miss Chandler?’ he enquired provokingly.
‘That depends,’ she came back stiffly, ‘on whether I’m talking to my boss or the man I used to go to bed with.’
‘Oh, your lover, darling,’ he drawled lazily, making a fine but clear distinction between her past tense and his present. ‘Most definitely your lover.’
‘Then you’re nothing but an unscrupulous rake!’ she flared, beginning to seethe with just about every angry emotion she possessed.
‘Rake?’ he choked. ‘What have I just said that could even vaguely be described as rakish?’
He was laughing at her, relaxed again, enjoying himself at her expense. His eyes had turned a warm and appealing shade of grey, his mouth twitching with that little smile that always got to her, no matter how angry with him she was.
‘Then why else have you got your ex-lover—’ it was her turn to labour the distinction ‘—here, if not to have your rakish way with her?’
‘Rakish.’ He shook his head, still laughing at her. ‘I love it.’
‘Don’t come near me!’ she warned as he began walking towards her.
‘Why not?’ he challenged, still coming.
‘Because you’re too damned sure of yourself for your own good.’
‘Sure enough to know that I can make you feel wonderful if you give me a chance,’ he murmured, reaching her. ‘I’ve got a bargain for you,’ he said as his arms closed around her. ‘How would you like three whole days of my undivided attention playing tourist while we take avoiding action against Brunner?’
‘For what purpose?’ she demanded suspiciously, knowing that this man never suggested anything without an ulterior motive.
‘For the purpose of enjoying each other’s company, of course,’ he answered, then drew her closer to him. ‘Doesn’t it appeal just a little bit, bunny rabbit?’ he murmured, his lips brushing temptingly against hers. ‘Three whole days of my undivided attention ladled solely upon you?’
‘I thought you had more pride than to chase after a woman,’ she pouted as a deliberate goad, but really his tenacity was warming her all the way through. Perhaps he did care for her? Perhaps he even cared more than he actually realised himself?
Strangely, he smiled, his eyes softly amused as they gazed deeply into her own. ‘What’s my pride worth when gauged against—this...?’ he murmured as he caught her mouth.
‘This’ was sweet, it was gentle and it reached right down deep inside her and coiled itself tightly around every pleasurable sensor she possessed. His mouth was warm and tender, his tongue moist and exquisitely languid as it joined with her own. His hands were lightly caressing flesh that preened to his touch. She sighed softly, wishing she could hate him and knowing she couldn’t, and on an act of defeat her arms slid up his arms and around his neck, fingers closing into his hair to bring his mouth more thoroughly on to her own.
‘Say yes,’ he urged against her searching mouth.
‘Oh, God,’ she choked, despising herself for being so easy for him. ‘Yes, damn you, Solomon Maclaine—yes!’
On a soft growl of triumph he gathered her into his arms, his mouth fixed hungrily on to hers as he carried her through to the bedroom.
Her clothes were removed by expert hands, hands that knew just where to touch and how to touch to arouse her. By the time she had removed his jacket, tie and shirt, she was lost in the magic that was his alone—his body, his kisses, his tightly muscled flesh where her hands could run at will.
Only once did sanity briefly raise its head to warn her that she was wrong letting this happen. ‘Mac,’ she whispered protestingly against his mouth.
But he pre-empted her, pushing her gently down on to the bed and following her with his body, hot and hard. ‘You want this, Roberta,’ he stated grimly. ‘We both do, so much, we ache.’
He was oh, so right, she acknowledged when, to prove it, he ran his hands down her body, caressing her where he knew so well that she couldn’t help but arch and groan with desire. ‘See?’ he murmured, sliding his mouth sensuously against hers. ‘Your body’s crying out for me. You want to feel my mouth close around your breasts and suck—suck hard until you can’t tell the pain from the sheer pleasure of it.’ She gasped as he did just that, lowering his head to close his lips around one throbbing peak, his tongue flicking greedily around it before he sucked it deeply into his mouth.
Her soft cry as pleasure ripped through her accompanied her fingers clutching at his head to hold him to her as she thrust upwards in a sensual need for more. He gave it, shifting to the other breast, ravishing it, driving her so crazy that she had to pull hard at his hair, bringing his head up before she actually lost all control there and then.
Triumph glowed in his eyes as he looked down on her, because he knew just how powerfully he affected her. But he was affected too; she could feel it in the hectic pumping of his heart, see it in the darkened tautness of his face and the way his flesh quivered across tightly packed muscle, as desperate to feel her touch as her flesh needed his. And, as if he knew what she was thinking, he acknowledged it, trailing a hand down her stomach to her navel, then further, until he’d dipped into the hot, moist core of her.
