Penny Jordan - Bought With His Name

It was a good exit line and she made the most of it, picking up her bag and walking swiftly towards the door before anyone else could add anything. It was lunchtime anyway, and she needed to be somewhere on her own to give herself time to recover from the shock of discovering that the new owner of the firm she worked for was none other than the man she had so grossly humiliated the previous evening. Damn Greg! He might have warned her! No doubt he had found it highly amusing. She should have remembered that he enjoyed playing tricks like that, and right from the start there had been something about Luke which had set him apart from the normal run of Greg’s friends, despite his casual attire. Greg could be as vindictive as the most shallow-minded women on occasions, and it was Genista’s misfortune that she had made her contempt of him too plain, too often.

She couldn’t eat any lunch. She picked at a sandwich and drank half a cup of coffee before returning to the office. She had expected to find it deserted, but someone was standing by her desk, and her heart missed a beat as she recognised Luke’s darkly handsome features. He had been bending over studying something, but as though he sensed her presence he stood up, his palm open, something glittering metallically on it.

‘I thought I’d better not give you this while any one else was around,’ he said softly, ‘Although perhaps I’d be doing him a favour I doubt he’d continue to support you for much longer, once he knew that he wasn’t the only one with a key to your rather expensive apartment. How does he manage it?’ His eyes rested contemptuously on Genista’s expensive separates. ‘You don’t strike me as a girl with exactly modest tastes—good clothes, an apartment in a luxurious block; discreetly expensive jewellery, in fact all the trappings of a young lady of some means. And he has a wife and child to keep as well, but then I suppose when it comes to a woman as beauteful as you a man will always find the necessary, won’t he, Genista?’

Genista was too stunned to speak. For a moment she thought she must have misunderstood. Luke couldn’t be suggesting that she was Bob’s mistress, and worse still, that he was actually keeping her? But he was, as he soon made very plain.

‘If you’re thinking of denying it, don’t bother. Greg told me all about you, but as he kept referring to you as “Jen”, I thought your name was Jennifer. I ought to have known better. I’m renowned for my astute perception; that’s how I got where I am today. I knew the first moment I saw you you weren’t an ordinary run-of-the-mill girl, but I allowed my desire to cloud my judgment. No wonder you wouldn’t let me take you home! You’re a shrewd little bitch, aren’t you? Why did you encourage me in the first place, Genista, or can I guess? Perhaps you’d heard that I’m a very rich man, and you got ambitious. If a man like Bob Norman will keep you so comfortably, think what I could give you? But you got cold feet, didn’t you? You decided it might be better to be safe than sorry; after all, you’d no guarantee that I would give you anything, and you might lose Bob. You should have had more courage, my dear,’ he told her softly. ‘The way I wanted you last night. I’d have given you anything. However, the cold light of morning brings back sanity, so perhaps you made the right decision after all. Does Bob know about last night?’

‘What is there to know?’ Genista was amazed that she could sound so calm; that she could respond so carelessly, when her furious repudiation of his vile accusations had lodged like a hard ball in her chest.

‘What indeed?’ Luke agreed silkily. ‘But then lovers are notoriously jealous people, and I still have this.’ He dangled the key from his fingers, smiling cruelly. ‘It would be the easiest thing in the world for me to—er—remove it from my pocket by mistake in Bob’s presence, and the hardest for you to convince him that my possession of it doesn’t go hand in glove with my possession of you.’

It was those last few words that did it, driving from her the last vestiges of self-control, her hands balled into two angry fists, as she turned to him, angry colour burning up under her skin.

‘I’d rather die than let you touch me, never mind possess me!’ Her voice was shaking with the pent-up force of her anger. She was far too wound up to be aware of the red tide sweeping under Luke’s own skin, or the rage burning blackly in his eyes, all her attention concentrated on showing him in what contempt she held him—his meaningless threats, and his total misconception of her relationship with Bob. It was typical of a man like him to leap to such a conclusion, she thought in disgust. No doubt he had enjoyed the sort of relationship he had accused her of having with Bob, with countless numbers of women. It must be far easier to rid oneself of them when one grew bored, if they had merely been ‘bought’. Well, no man would ever buy her! Love was the only possible reason for permitting a man sexual intimacy, and she already knew to her cost that such an emotion simply did not exist, and if that meant that she must go through the rest of her life alone, then that was what she would do. A kept woman! Her mouth turned downward in a bitter grimace.

‘So you’d rather die, would you?’ The low, almost snarled words held a dangerous threat, but Genista was oblivious to it. Her face was paper-white, her eyes as dark as pansies within its white triangle. No man had ever spoken to her the way Luke Ferguson had just done, and the shock of his accusations had almost frozen her ability to defend herself.

‘And what about Bob’s wife? Or doesn’t she come into your coldhearted calculations?’ Luke continued in obvious disgust. ‘Don’t you care that you’re breaking up her marriage—stealing her husband?’

It was on the tip of Genista’s tongue to tell him that far from stealing another woman’s husband, she had always made a rule of avoiding any man who she knew to be involved with another woman. She had been too hurt by a man’s duplicity once before to risk the same sort of pain again.

‘At least he isn’t completely under your thumb,’ Luke added abrasively. ‘Otherwise he’d be sharing that apartment with you.’

His bitter contempt; the insults he was heaping upon her combined to make her say recklessly,

‘Perhaps I don’t want him to. Perhaps I …’

‘Perhaps you value your freedom too much to give it up for any man,’ Luke interrupted cuttingly. ‘That’s the sort of woman you are, isn’t it, Genista? Using your beauty like a weapon, always taking and never giving. What happens when you grow tired of Bob? Or was that what last night was really all about? Are you already searching for his successor?’

This time Genista’s self-control snapped completely. The imprint of her fingers against Luke’s lean tanned cheek took a long time to fade, through white to red, and then brown again, and during those seemingly endless moments, he neither spoke nor moved, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.

She had behaved like a harpy, Genista thought wretchedly. What on earth had come over her? She prided herself on her cool control. Not even Richard, whose actions and words had surely been far more hurtful than Luke Ferguson’s contempt, had provoked her to violence. A terrible nausea rose up inside her as she stared at the marks of her fingers against Luke’s skin. Her legs seemed to turn to jelly, and she groped blindly for a chair.

‘You’re wrong. I …’

Her husky attempt at explanation and apology was swept aside.

‘No, you’re the one who’s wrong, Genista, if you think you can treat me the way you have done and get away with it.’

As though the scales had suddenly been wrenched from her eyes, she saw him for the first time as the man he was; a man who had built up a multi-million pound financial empire virtually from nothing; a man notorious in business circles for his single-minded determination when it came to getting his own way; a man whom she had grossly humiliated and insulted, and who was now towering above her menacingly … a man with whom she was completely alone …