Secret Passion

Secret Passion

Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THE man seated behind the imposing desk was not the one Aura had come here to see, and the light of battle began to fade from her eyes.

She turned sharply to the secretary who had been about to show her into the office. ‘I think there has been some sort of mistake——’

‘No mistake, Miss Jones.’ The man behind the desk stood up as he spoke, and Aura immediately understood the reason for the dark, solid furniture in the room; this man would have looked ridiculous against any other background.

He was very tall, well over six feet, with a lithe body not usually seen on a man who worked behind a desk all day, the superbly tailored suit he wore emphasising his lean masculinity. Just to look at him was to get a feeling of power, of barely leashed strength.

Aura took in his appearance in a matter of seconds, even acknowledged that he had an attraction that was as powerful as his body: thick dark hair neatly styled to his ears and collar, its slight inclination to curl ruthlessly kept in check, brilliant green eyes that looked her over speculatively as she stood poised in the doorway, his mouth a sensual slash beneath an arrogantly jutting nose, his jaw square and firm.

But it wasn’t what he looked like that concerned her, but who he was!

‘Thank you, Moira.’ He smoothly dismissed his secretary as he strode across the room to close the door behind Aura. ‘Please, sit down,’ he invited softly.

She had come prepared to do battle, and instead she had been greeted by a complete stranger. Where was Adrian? She looked about her awkwardly.

‘Please,’ the man prompted again, his eyes narrowed at her apparent reluctance to stay now that she was here.

Aura sat down in the chair that he had indicated facing his desk, wishing she had thought to telephone to make an appointment before rushing over here. But she had been so angry …!

Her mouth tightened as she remembered the reason for her anger, sherry-brown eyes sparkling warningly. ‘I came here to see——’

‘Mr Mayhew,’ the man finished as he moved softly around the desk to resume his seat.

Mr Mayhew? She hadn’t called Adrian anything that formal for weeks!

‘I’m afraid he isn’t here at the moment,’ the man excused lightly. ‘And as you said, the matter you need to discuss was of some importance … My name is Ballantine, Miss Jones,’ he added briskly as she still looked uncertain. ‘Mr Mayhew and I are business partners.’

Her eyes widened. James Ballantine; he wasn’t at all what she had expected Adrian’s partner to look like!

Adrian gave the impression that he worked with a much older man, and yet Aura was sure this man couldn’t be much older than his mid-thirties, possibly a little younger, which would make him only four or five years Adrian’s senior. Adrian spoke of the other man as if he were Methuselah!

Her mouth tightened as she remembered her reason for being here, and the fact that Adrian couldn’t be relied upon to be completely honest about anything, let alone admit that his partner was really a powerfully attractive man.

‘I really would prefer to see Mr Mayhew,’ she bit out tautly.

Dark brows rose over speculative green eyes, deep slashes of displeasure grooved into his lean cheeks as his mouth firmed. ‘I believe I just told you my partner isn’t available at this time.’ His voice had hardened too. ‘I can assure you, Miss Jones, that anything you wished to say to Mr Mayhew you can now say to me.’ Those grooves in his cheeks disappeared as his mood relented a little, although his impatience was barely concealed behind the polite façade.

Aura gave an inward sigh. She certainly couldn’t say any of the things to this man she had intended saying to Adrian!

But there was still the problem of the letter; that wouldn’t go away, no matter which of the partners she talked to.

She looked closely at the man facing her; had Adrian told his partner about her, had they laughed together as Adrian made one of those man-to-man jokes about her? James Ballantine returned her gaze steadily enough, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t completely aware of Adrian’s ‘personal’ interest in her the last few weeks.

But what choice did she have, it was either talk to this man or no one. And there was always the possibility that she had misjudged Adrian. Although she didn’t think she had.

She opened her clutch-bag to take out the official-looking envelope. ‘I received this this morning.’ She thrust the unfolded letter across the desk at James Ballantine, normally tranquil brown eyes snapping with anger.

Long lean fingers took the letter from her grasp, while the other hand lifted black-rimmed glasses that had rested on the desk top, to place them high on the bridge of his nose. He briefly scanned the letter, his brows raised questioningly as he once again looked up at her. ‘This seems very straightforward.’ He placed the letter down on his desk, regarding her through the slightly tinted lenses of his glasses.

She was well aware of the ‘straightforwardness’ of the letter, knew the exact wording on the single sheet of paper without needing to read it again. The lawyers who acted for Ballantine and Mayhew had written to inform her that the lease that ran out on her shop next month would not be open for renewal, and could she please have the premises vacated by the given date!

The letter had been waiting for her just inside the door of the shop this morning, and after making a few telephone calls she had left her assistant in charge while she went to see Adrian. The last thing she had expected was that Adrian would be out and that she would have to deal with his partner instead. Did this man have any idea of the vindictiveness behind the letter? He wasn’t a man who revealed his thoughts easily, and the glasses acted as another shield to his emotions.

‘The wording of the letter is very clear,’ she acknowledged tightly.

He frowned at the admission. ‘Then what appears to be the problem?’

‘The problem, Mr Ballantine,’ she bit out tautly, ‘is that when I signed the initial lease two years ago it was with the understanding that it would be renewable at the end of that time.’

‘Subject to both parties’ approval.’ He nodded slowly.

‘Yes. But——’

‘Obviously, from this letter, you can see that we don’t approve,’ he reasoned impatiently, obviously wondering why she was wasting his time over something that was already so clear.

Gold sparks flashed among the sherry-brown of her eyes, the below-shoulder length of her pale blonde hair seeming to crackle with anger. ‘Why has my lease been singled out for refusal of renewal?’ she rasped. ‘I’ve checked with your other tenants at Cooper Mews, and all of them have renewed their lease in the last twelve months.’ Telephone calls to the neighbouring shops were the only reason she hadn’t been here earlier this morning, needing to be sure of her facts before confronting Adrian.

James Ballantine raised dark brows. ‘You’ve checked?’ he repeated mildly.

Aura wasn’t fooled by that mildness for a minute, knew that, despite his politeness to her so far, the lines of hardness around his eyes and mouth indicated he could be a very dangerous man to cross.

‘Of course I checked,’ she confirmed impatiently. ‘We aren’t just talking about my livelihood here, I also happen to live in the flat above the shop.’

‘Alone?’

He seemed as surprised by the question as she did, his gaze suddenly challenging.

Surely if Adrian had told the other man about his involvement with her James Ballantine wouldn’t have needed to ask such a question, Aura reasoned.

‘No,’ she bit out, not enlarging on the statement, deciding that if Adrian hadn’t already told this man about her, her living arrangements were none of his business; her lease didn’t say anything about listing the occupants of the flat above the shop.

‘I see.’ His tight-lipped disapproval was tangible as he picked up the letter to read it once again. ‘Have there been any problems with payment on your part to precipitate this move by us?’ he murmured frowningly.

‘Certainly not!’ Her eyes flashed her indignation.

He shrugged, throwing the letter down on top of the other papers littering his desk. ‘Then perhaps there has been a mistake made by our legal department,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I don’t believe we have any other plans for any of the properties we own at Cooper Mews.’

Aura was sure they didn’t, was equally sure that Adrian was behind this move to deprive her of her shop and her home. The old saying warned ‘beware of a woman scorned’; no one seemed to consider that it was a warning that should also apply to a man scorned. One man anyway.

James Ballantine looked at the rapidly changing expressions on her face with piercing eyes. ‘If you would just leave this matter with me——’

‘I’ve always dealt with Mr Mayhew in the past.’ It was because of a contractual problem concerning the roof that she had first met Adrian, having received no help from the legal department here. After that first meeting Adrian had made a point of calling round to the shop from time to time to make sure things were running smoothly. Then a few weeks ago those visits had ceased to concern the shop …

‘I can assure you, Miss Jones, that I am quite capable of dealing with this matter myself,’ James Ballantine informed her glacially. ‘If you would just leave this with me I will get back to you.’

She knew he was furious at her persistence, but her shop was just one of hundreds of properties the partnership of Ballantine and Mayhew owned. ‘When?’ she demanded abruptly.

He drew in a ragged breath, as if he weren’t accustomed to having his movements questioned. And maybe he wasn’t, but Aura couldn’t afford to have him put the problem of her lease—and her—to one side, and just forget about them.

In the almost two years since she had opened ‘Health is Wealth’ she had built up a steady clientele, adding new customers to their number all the time as more and more people became aware of healthy food as a way of being healthy.

The shop had become her salvation, occupying her time and thoughts completely, and she wasn’t about to lose it because a man she had stupidly considered charming had found that he couldn’t control his libido!

After weeks of casual visits from Adrian to the shop the flowers had begun to arrive. Daily. Until Aura had broken all her own rules and agreed to have dinner with the sort of charmingly wealthy rogue she had sworn never to be involved with again.

That first dinner together had been followed by yet another, and then another, until she realised she had been seeing him at least a couple of times a week. He was pleasant company, attractive enough in a rakish fashion, and if his goodnight kisses at her door could become a little too demanding on occasion, he never made any effort to get beyond the door. A week ago she had realised that was all part of his strategy, a strategy he had soon tired of when her curiosity hadn’t become piqued and she had been the one to do the inviting.

Her twenty-fourth birthday had loomed bright and clear, and she had been thrilled with the lovely red roses that arrived for her from Adrian, less than pleased with the diamond bracelet he presented to her over dinner that evening. Her refusal to accept such a gift from a man she considered a friend had resulted in the rakishly attractive man becoming viciously nasty as he informed her he had no interest in being her ‘friend’, that he wanted to be her lover. And soon.

She had cursed herself, and him, on her taxi-ride home, for not seeing sooner that he had deliberately lulled her into a false sense of security before revealing what he really wanted from her.

His retaliation to her rejection of him as a lover had arrived in the letter she had received from the lawyers of Ballantine and Mayhew today, she was sure of it. Just as she was sure that if she agreed to let Adrian into her bed after all, the matter would instantly be dropped.

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 fact that Jeanne might soon be out of a job because the shop was having to close. ‘I’m sure it will be better tomorrow.’ Oh God, she hoped so. If James Ballantine didn’t call her first thing tomorrow morning she was going to call him, and damn the fact that that was sure to make him angry straight away!

Once Jeanne had left to hurry to the nearby supermarket before it closed she paused while cashing up to look around the shop that had become her pride and joy. It was light and airy, the shelves well stocked and varied. It was hers, damn it, and she refused to lose it because Adrian didn’t like to hear the word no! She would take him to court over it if necessary—no, she wouldn’t do that, she admitted to herself dully. She wouldn’t do anything that would draw attention to herself, and claiming sexual harassment by her landlord would certainly do that!

But all the anger and frustration of her situation faded as soon as she looked at the gentle face of the woman waiting upstairs for her in the flat. No one, least of all she, was able to resist this delicately lovely woman’s vulnerability, Aura feeling protective as soon as she looked at the other woman.

‘Hello, Mummy.’ She greeted her mother softly so as not to startle her.

Vague brown eyes focused on her with effort as her mother looked up from the television set showing a popular children’s cartoon. ‘Is it that time already, dear?’ She frowned as she saw the till-roll and books in Aura’s hands.

‘Yes,’ she confirmed indulgently, kissing her mother on the cheek before glancing at the television screen. ‘Has the cat been put out for the night yet?’ she mused.

‘No, dear.’ Her mother patted her cheek. ‘And talking of cats, have you seen Marmaduke today?’

‘He came in with me and went straight for his food bowl in the kitchen,’ Aura assured her, knowing how her mother fretted about the wandering tomcat. ‘Just give me five minutes and I’ll get our dinner started.’

‘I’ll get it, shall I, dear?’ her mother offered, but her attention had already wandered back to the television programme.

Aura smiled as she went up to the next floor to her bedroom, knowing her mother would still be immersed in the cartoon—or another programme like it—when she went through the lounge in a few minutes on her way to the kitchen. Every night her mother offered to get dinner for them, and every night she either forgot or wandered off to do something else.

At only forty-five, with the sort of beauty that had only increased with the years, her mother had retreated into a world where pain didn’t touch her, where she saw only good in everything, because to see things any other way would be to see reality. It had been like this since Aura’s father died.

Her mother had never been a forceful personality, but the death of the man she loved had somehow pushed her into a world where she took responsibility for nothing, and where no one expected her to do so. When she wasn’t watching the childishly uncomplicated programmes on television she would just sit and daydream, and from the faraway tranquility of her expression when she did that Aura guessed her thoughts were as childishly unfettered by reality.

Shock, the doctors had diagnosed her condition, at the sudden death of Aura’s father. They had all predicted she would as quickly recover from the shock, that it was something that occasioanlly happened to the deeply grief-stricken. They had been wrong, and despite constant counselling, her mother still lived in that state where she knew the man she loved had gone, but where she preferred to think he had just briefly left their lives.

At times Aura felt her father’s loss so acutely she wanted to share her own pain with her mother, but as time passed and her mother continued to live in her world without pain the doctors had feared that the sudden jolt into awareness could result in permanent damage. Sometimes, as Aura watched her dreamily vague mother, she wondered if it weren’t already too late to do anything to help her.

Once she had changed into peach cotton trousers and a brown blouse, she went down to the kitchen, her mother, as she had predicted, still watching the television, having switched off the news in favour of a nature programme.