Lady Surrender

He looked as if that ‘surprise’ might have pushed him to breaking point, although somehow he maintained his control. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he dismissed abruptly.

‘I’m so glad you told me.’ Molly smiled, all doubts obviously laid to rest with this announcement. ‘Matt is going to be pleased too.’ She turned to Charly. ‘I invited Aaron down to dinner tomorrow evening before I realised how seriously involved the two of you are; please come too, Charly.’

‘Fine,’ Aaron Grantley accepted abruptly. ‘We’ll look forward to it, won’t we, honey?’

He was getting his revenge now! ‘Yes,’ she agreed curtly. ‘We will.’

‘Good.’ Molly seemed relieved that the meeting had turned out so differently from what she had been expecting.

‘Would you like some coffee before you leave?’ Charly offered warmly, liking the other woman and her courage to want to fight for her husband if she had to.

‘That would be nice, thank you,’ Molly nodded acceptance.

‘I’ll help you, Charly,’ Aaron Grantley put in hardly, following her from the room, swinging her round to face him once they reached the privacy of the kitchen. ‘What game do you think you’re playing?’ he demanded furiously.

She glared up at him, shaking off his hand on her arm. ‘I’m not playing at all, Mr Grantley,’ she snapped. ‘Your manners since you arrived here this evening have been highly insulting, to say the least. You prejudged Matt and I—–’

‘Molly may have fallen for that fire and smoke inhalation story, Miss Allenby,’ he ground out, ‘but don’t expect me to be as gullible!’

‘What would it take to convince you?’ she demanded angrily. ‘Third degree burns?’

His mouth twisted. ‘I already know there aren’t any; I’ve seen sixty per cent of you, remember?’

‘You’re right, Mr Grantley,’ she told him flatly. ‘There are no burns.’ She couldn’t tell this man of the way she woke in the night, her body bathed in perspiration as she imagined that choking smoke filled her bedroom once more and she couldn’t get out.

It had only been the quick action of her neighbour that had saved her from death. She had taken a sleeping tablet as usual before she went to bed that night, hadn’t been aware of any danger until Jeff Pearce dragged her through the smoke-filled apartment to safety.

‘I know that,’ Aaron Grantley scorned. ‘But it was a good story. Molly certainly believed it. It’s this idea of marriage between us that you’ve given Molly that I don’t like,’ he scowled, the green eyes dark.

Charily looked up at him unblinkingly. ‘I thought it was a nice touch,’ she drawled.

‘You realise you’ve put us both in an awkward position?’ he rasped.

‘Us?’ she raised her brows, shaking her head. ‘I’ve put you in an awkward position; I have no intention of going to Matt’s for dinner tomorrow. You’ll have to make my excuses to them.’

He gave her a contemptuous look. ‘You’re right; I doubt Matt has the nerve to carry out an evening with his wife and his mistress.’

Charly gave him a pitying look. ‘I’m sure you would have more bravado,’ she scorned. ‘Now shouldn’t you go and keep your guest company; the coffee is almost ready.’

He nodded impatiently. ‘But no more wisecracks about us getting married,’ he warned.

‘Or?’ she drawled.

‘Wait and see.’ He gave a humourless smile, challenge in the narrowed green eyes. ‘You look like a woman who would like surprises,’ he taunted before rejoining Molly in the lounge.

There hadn’t been many surprises in her life, even fewer of them pleasant ones, while the shocks she had received in recent years had been even less pleasant. It seemed, from Aaron Grantley’s viewpoint at least, that the outer shell had faired far better than the inner Charly; he certainly didn’t believe there had been a fire in her apartment. He would be even more sceptical about the rest of her life!

Molly was very relaxed as she drank her coffee, her mind obviously at rest now about her husband’s involvement with Charly. For all that she disliked Aaron Grantley Charly was glad they had managed to do that; it had been the only reason she had agreed to go along with Aaron Grantley’s plan. No woman should have to go through the torture of believing her husband had another woman when it wasn’t true; it was hard enough to bear when it was true!

‘You will let us know when you decide about the wedding, won’t you?’ Molly prompted eagerly. ‘I know Matt wouldn’t want to miss the great event; for years he’s been saying he doubted Aaron would ever marry,’ the other woman teasingly explained to Charly. ‘I’m sure he has no idea how serious your relationship is.’

‘It came as a surprise to us all,’ Aaron Grantley drawled derisively.

‘Oh yes.’ Charly put her hand in the crook of his arm, leaning into him as they sat on the sofa together. ‘But now that I’ve managed to get a commitment from him I’m going to hang on to him.’ She looked at him challengingly as she felt him stiffen.

‘There’s no rush,’ he muttered, giving her a fierce glare.

‘Neither of us is getting any younger, Aaron,’ she lightly mocked.

‘Thirty-five isn’t old,’ he grated.

‘It is for a first marriage,’ she drawled. ‘Not so long ago people would have thought there was something wrong with you,’ she added tauntingly.

His hand covered hers as it rested on his arm, crushing down on her fingers in a gesture that, to an observer, must look loving. ‘We both know how wrong that assumption would be about me,’ he ground out between clenched teeth, his eyes blazing with anger. ‘Don’t we?’ His hand was even more painful on her fingers.

‘Well, of course we do, darling,’ she gave him a coy smile, triumph in her eyes that she had managed to unnerve him once again. ‘I was merely pointing out that we shouldn’t delay the wedding too much longer.’

His mouth tightened ominously. ‘I don’t believe in rushing into these things.’

She gave a light laugh. ‘We wouldn’t be rushing into anything. I don’t—–’ her next taunt was cut off by angrily firm lips descending roughly on to hers, the brief contact of Aaron Grantley’s mouth showing her just how furious he was. It was the first time she had known such intimacy from a man since—–

‘I think it’s time I left,’ Molly gently teased, standing up. ‘I hope you didn’t mind my collecting the address book.’ Once again she avoided Charly’s gaze. ‘I—I’ll see you both tomorrow.’

‘I—–’

‘Yes, we’ll be there,’ Aaron cut in firmly, not wanting to give her the chance to say anything that might be even more damning, standing up to join Molly at the door. ‘Tell Matt I’ll call him tomorrow.’

‘So will I,’ Charly put in determinedly, making no effort to join them as Aaron saw the other woman to the lift.

She was standing in front of the window trying to decide how she felt about that kiss when she sensed he had come back into the room. She didn’t actually have a lot to compare his kiss with, certainly hadn’t been expecting it, or he could have been deeply embarrassed by her violent recoil from the caress. She finally decided she didn’t know how she felt about the kiss.

‘You will not call Matt tomorrow or at any other time,’ Aaron ground out icily.

She straightened her shoulders, her expression cold as she turned to face him. ‘I won’t?’ she drawled.

‘No,’ he rasped. ‘You’ve had your fun here tonight, but now it’s over. I want you to pack your things and move out of here right now.’

‘And where would I go?’

‘Find some other fool to support you in the life to which you’ve become accustomed,’ he scorned. ‘I really don’t care where you go—just do it.’

She shrugged. ‘Matt isn’t going to be too pleased about this.’

Aaron Grantley scowled. ‘Matt will soon realise what an idiot he’s been!’

‘You think so?’ she frowned thoughtfully.

‘I know so,’ he said contemptuously.

‘You probably know him better than I do,’ she nodded consideringly. ‘But I have no intention of moving out of here tonight.’

‘Now look, lady—–’

‘Will you stop calling me “lady” in that contemptuous tone,’ she snapped coldly. ‘We both know you consider me to be the opposite!’

He looked at her with narrowed eyes, his lashes a sooty black against the green depths. ‘With that damned haughty manner of yours you could find yourself an earl or something, why pick on Matt?’

‘He’s a very eminent doctor—–’

‘But hardly jet-set material.’

Her mouth twisted scornfully. ‘I’m not interested in the so-called jet-set,’ she dismissed. ‘I like my men intelligent as well as interesting; Matt is both of those things,’ she added pointedly.

‘Implying I’m not?’

Her brows rose coolly. ‘I thought the idea was for me not to find you attractive?’ she mocked.

He drew in a ragged breath. ‘It is!’

She looked at him with derision. ‘And I can assure you I don’t.’

‘I’ll make your excuses to Molly and Matt tomorrow,’ he ground out. ‘You just make sure you’re gone from here before Matt comes up to town again.’

‘And if I’m not?’

‘You don’t have the diamond bracelet yet, Charly,’ he reminded harshly. ‘Something Matt, for all his ability as a doctor, isn’t able to buy for you.’

Something snapped inside her, a rage towards him and other arrogant men like him. ‘I don’t want your bracelet, Mr Grantley,’ she bit out tautly. ‘I helped you out tonight because—because I know how Molly must be feeling at this moment.’

‘Been replaced a few times yourself, have you?’ he derided contemptuously.

She flushed fiery red in her anger. ‘As a matter of fact, yes!’

He nodded. ‘Small, chubby blondes aren’t exactly in fashion at the moment, are they?’

‘I may be small and blonde, but I am certainly not chubby,’ Charly snapped.

‘Well-endowed?’ he taunted.

‘Curvaceous,’ she bit out, thinking how ridiculous this conversation had become. ‘I don’t have the time for this,’ she claimed grimly. ‘I had an appointment half an hour ago; I’d like to get there soon.’

‘I don’t have the time to waste either,’ he rasped. ‘Some rich bitch is trying to buy my deal from under me, and I consider that a hell of a lot more important than arguing with you!’

She raised light brown brows with practised calm. ‘Aren’t you rich yourself, Mr Grantley?’ she drawled mockingly.

‘I worked for what I have,’ he said harshly. ‘I didn’t have it handed to me with my gold spoon.’

‘I believe the saying is “silver spoon”,’ she corrected softly.

‘Not in this case,’ he scorned grimly. ‘It’s been gold for Rocharlle Hart from day one. She was born into money, married money, and now she’s trying to use some of that money to ruin a property deal I badly want.’

‘Maybe Mrs Hart wants it as badly,’ Charly derided his arrogance.

‘Women like her don’t have wants or needs,’ he dismissed roughly. ‘Only a quest for power.’

‘You don’t sound as if you’ve ever met her, so how can you know—–’

‘I know,’ he cut in firmly. ‘Just as I know you aren’t going to see Matt again.’

‘That might be a little difficult—–’

‘I could make things very unpleasant for you if you don’t agree to this.’

His threat only angered her more. ‘Mr Grantley, perhaps there’s something you should know—–’

‘About you?’ he scorned. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘You might regret not listening to me,’ she suggested with soft emphasis.

‘I doubt that.’

She shrugged. ‘It’s important.’

‘Just as making sure you have varnish on your toenails is important to you, no doubt!’ he looked contemptuously at the offending toenails, the varnish the same deep shade as her fingernails. ‘You look like a damned slave-girl!’

‘Is it a crime to want to look nice?’ she snapped defensively, sick of his criticism.

‘I suppose not, when it’s all you have to do all day,’ he dismissed harshly.

‘It isn’t!’

‘I’m sure it isn’t,’ he derided with a humourless smile. ‘Now let’s get this over with,’ he added decisively. ‘I’ll throw in a necklace to match the bracelet, arrange for you to stay at a hotel until you can find—somewhere else to live,’ his mouth twisted. ‘As long as you move out tomorrow and don’t bother Matt again.’

‘And if I don’t?’ she challenged.

His mouth thinned. ‘As I said, I could make things very unpleasant for you.’

She smiled, confident that this man could do nothing to hurt her. ‘You’re going to feel extremely foolish when you realise what a mistake you’ve made,’ she assured him.

His eyes narrowed. ‘You’re staying in Matt’s apartment, there’s no mistake about that.’

Charly could sense he was becoming uneasy about her cool control, her smile widening. ‘No, there’s no mistake about that,’ she agreed.

‘And that story about the fire is pure fiction,’ he accused.

‘Is it?’

‘Oh to hell with this!’ he moved restlessly. ‘The jewellery will be delivered to you here tomorrow morning, make sure you leave then.’

‘Don’t you think you should talk to Matt before doing this?’ she reasoned.

‘No, I don’t!’ He slammed out of the apartment.

Charly’s breath was expelled in a tense sigh, shaking her head to suddenly look down at her watch; she was going to be over an hour late for her dinner date.

But she couldn’t help wondering, as she drove to the restaurant, what Aaron Grantley’s reaction was going to be once he had spoken to Matt tomorrow.

CHAPTER TWO

THE office building of Hartall Industries was one of the most attractive and luxurious in London. Charly’s father had always maintained that to be someone you had to look like someone. Fortunately his business partner had agreed with him, and from simply looking someone the two men had become someone.

She greeted most of the employees by name as she made her way across the reception, to the private lift, and up to the top floor. Another of her father’s sayings, when you were someone, it was pure stupidity to forget the people who helped you stay someone. He had been on a first-name basis with everyone who worked for him, from the errand boy to his highest executive. Charly couldn’t boast the same yet, but she had only been in charge just over a year, and most of that time had been spent learning how to be the Chairwoman of Hartall Industries.

‘Get Ian Anderson for me, please, Sarah,’ she instructed her secretary on the way through to her own office, feeling at ease among the comfortable opulence of the solid oak desk, cream leather suite, dark brown carpet, several of her favourite paintings on the walls. She had made several small changes since she took over, but not many, having helped with the original design of the office.

Rocharlle Allenby-Hart. Was she really the ‘rich bitch’ Aaron Grantley had accused her of being? It was true that her parents were already very rich by the time she was born, and she, a late addition to their lives, had wanted for nothing. It was also true that James had been extremely rich when she married him. But whoever had quipped ‘money can’t buy you happiness’ had known what he was talking about! She was richer now than her parents or James had ever been, had made even more of a success of the company since she took over, but her parents were gone, and so was James. And she certainly wasn’t happy.

She picked up the receiver on the second ring, having been lost in thought as she stared out of the window. ‘Yes, Sarah?’ she prompted briskly.

‘Mr Anderson is on line one,’ her secretary informed her lightly.

For a moment she had forgotten her request for Sarah to call him. ‘Put him through,’ she instructed softly.

‘Charly, now lovely to hear from you.’ The man who had been her father’s lawyer before hers, greeted her cheerfully. ‘I was going to call you myself later.’

‘Ian,’ she returned abruptly, able to visualise the senior partner of Anderson, Anderson, and McCloed in his book-lined office, the decor comfortable to say the least, not at all musty and dusty the way most people imagined a lawyer’s office to be. Ian was another advocate of her father’s rule, his offices were the epitome of elegance and comfort. ‘I’m not sure you’ll still be pleased to hear from me at the end of this conversation,’ she added ruefully.

‘Oh?’ he prompted guardedly.

Charly smiled; Ian had a lawyer’s usual reserve, despite knowing her for years. And this time perhaps he had reason to have; she was very displeased about the turn her negotiations for Shevton House had taken. ‘Aaron Grantley knows the identity of his competitor in the Shevton House deal,’ she came straight to the point.

‘Are you sure?’ The frown could be heard in his tone of voice.

‘I spoke to the man myself yesterday,’ she revealed with a sigh. ‘Or rather, he spoke to me,’ she amended ruefully, remembering the conversation—vividly. No one had ever made the assumption before—erroneous or otherwise—that she was any man’s mistress, not even James’. ‘He left me in no doubt that he was well aware I was the other party interested in the deal. I told you I wanted my involvement kept strictly private,’ she reminded hardly, having been completely shaken the evening before when Aaron Grantley had so casually mentioned her interest in a deal she had considered not to be public knowledge. Years of hiding her true feelings had enabled her to hide her shock, but nevertheless it had greatly disturbed her.

‘I’ve done exactly as you instructed, Charly,’ Ian sounded concerned. ‘You don’t suppose Shevton himself would have—–’

‘He would have if he knew I was behind the second offer he received—did he?’

‘Well, I may have mentioned—–’

‘Ian, I told you not to reveal my identity,’ she cut in angrily.

‘I know,’ he soothed. ‘But the man was proving difficult, and I thought he would keep the information to himself. He wanted to make sure the house that’s been in his family for centuries wasn’t going to be knocked down and the estate built on. I had to tell him who you were to convince him you didn’t have anything like that in mind, that’s why I was going to call you later. I had no idea Grantley would actually confront you with the offer. I also have to tell you Shevton leans more towards you, he doesn’t particularly want the place to be turned into a hotel.’

‘You told him my plans for the house?’ she demanded sharply.

‘Of course not,’ Ian denied. ‘But he knows the way you do business.’

Charly sighed. ‘He now also knows who the two bidders are and can play one off against the other.’

‘I had to stall him in a hurry,’ Ian defended. ‘Otherwise he would have let the deal go directly to Grantley; he wasn’t much in favour of letting it go to an anonymous party for mysterious reasons.’

‘Very well, Ian, I can see you didn’t have any choice,’ she accepted heavily. ‘But I’m not happy about the situation.’

‘I can understand that,’ he acknowledged ruefully. ‘But I knew this was one deal you wouldn’t want to lose, and I couldn’t contact you last night when I called your apartment.’

‘I’ve been staying at a friend’s,’ she explained in a preoccupied voice.

‘I’m really sorry about all this, I had no idea Shevton would tell Grantley who you were.’

‘It’s done now,’ she dismissed abruptly. ‘Keep me informed on your progress—or lack of it,’ she added flatly, knowing they were in for a long haul.

‘I will. And, Charly, I really am sorry,’ he sighed.

‘No harm done,’ she assured him with more confidence than she felt. Richard Shevton would have had to have been told of her identity eventually, she knew that, just as she couldn’t dictate what he did with that information. He must be more of a businessman than she had realised, she decided. The congenial owner of Shevton House and its surrounding thousand acres didn’t come over as being shrewd when it came to business, but Charly knew better than anyone how deceptive appearances could be.

‘Sarah.’ She looked up with a smile as her secretary came in answer to her call. ‘I have a feeling a Mr Aaron Grantley will either be telephoning or coming here in person some time today; I want you to make sure he knows I’m unavailable,’ she frowned. She had no doubt that when Matt told the other man she was Rocharlle Hart he would demand an explanation from her. She would have given him one last night if he had given her the opportunity to do so. Now she didn’t feel that she owed him anything, after all he was the one who had jumped to conclusions.

‘Yes, Mrs Hart,’ Sarah looked puzzled by the request.

Charly gave a rueful smile. ‘He’s been making a nuisance of himself.’ That wasn’t exactly a lie, he was a nuisance, and she also knew Sarah would be even more determined to keep Aaron Grantley at bay if she thought he was one of the numerous men who believed it would be nice to marry her money. She had met a lot of them the last year.

‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you,’ Sarah told her firmly.

She didn’t normally need help to deter the sort of man she had implied Aaron Grantley to be, had been brought up as Rocharlle Allenby, had cut her adult teeth on fortune-hunters. One of the pluses in becoming James’s wife was that he had been even richer than she. But of course he had wanted something from her far more important to him than money, and marrying her had instantly given him that.

By late afternoon she had begun to think she had been wrong about Aaron Grantley’s next move; there had been no contact from him. Then just after four she heard raised voices in the outer office. Aaron Grantley didn’t sound as if he were accepting Sarah’s claim that she wasn’t available. Charly thought of going to the younger woman’s rescue, but that would only make a liar out of Sarah. It would also make her look ridiculous. She realised now she should never have given Sarah that instruction, should have known Aaron Grantley wasn’t the sort of man to be fobbed off with such an excuse.

She stood up slowly as her office door was flung open, the man himself standing there, very dark and attractive in an iron-grey pin-striped suit. His eyes narrowed on her, and Charly tried to see herself as he must see her, the long golden hair confined in a neat pleat at the back of her head, the black business suit and white blouse with its bow-neckline smart rather than feminine. She looked completely different from the woman he had met the previous evening.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Hart.’ Sarah glared at Aaron Grantley. ‘He just pushed past me,’ she muttered indignantly.

‘It’s all right, Sarah,’ she soothed. ‘I’ll deal with Mr Grantley myself,’ she added hardly.

The green eyes glittered vengefully. ‘I know we argued last night, sweetheart,’ he murmured huskily, crossing the room to her side, ‘but I don’t think that’s any reason to be so formal.’ He put his arm about her waist to pull her close to the hardness of his body. ‘After all, we are engaged to be married,’ he said challengingly, his head bending down to hers.

Charly only had tome to register Sarah’s gasp of surprise before coolly firm lips claimed hers, his arms about her, one of his hands pressed to the back of her head, preventing her moving away. He kissed her with deliberate thoroughness, savouring the taste of her lips, the probing of his tongue only withdrawn as Charly’s small white teeth bit down sharply on the tender flesh.

‘Vixen!’ he grated before turning to Sarah with a totally charming smile. ‘A lovers’ quarrel,’ he drawled.

Sarah looked totally disconcerted, and Charly couldn’t blame her!

‘Mr Grantley—–’

‘Sweetheart, do stop calling me that.’ His eyes promised retribution if she didn’t! ‘And do let this young lady leave so that we don’t embarrass her any further with our disagreement.’

Charly gave him a furious look before turning to her secretary. ‘Thank you, Sarah.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘I can handle this now.’

‘Can you?’ Aaron Grantley challenged softly’ after Sarah had left them, the younger woman still frowning her confusion.

‘Yes,’ she snapped, moving pointedly away from him. ‘I gather you’ve spoken to Matt.’