Lee Wilkinson - The Tycoon's Trophy Mistress

In spite of so much coverage, he managed to keep his private life private. So, though Charlotte was soon familiar with his public image, she was able to glean little about the man himself.

In a recent article in Top People he’d been described, more temperately, as an unrepentant bachelor. But a bachelor who liked women. Especially beautiful women.

When, after each London visit, pictures of him appeared in the newspapers, there was always a willowy blonde or a redhead clinging to his arm.

Cursed with the kind of looks that attracted the opposite sex like a magnet, Charlotte had often wished she were plain. It would have saved a great deal of hassle, and made life so much simpler.

Entranced by her face and figure, men had been pursuing her since she was fifteen. Their unwanted, unlooked-for attentions, their sheer persistence, had driven her to hide behind a cool, impenetrable façade that only Peter had ever managed to breach.

And then it had been for all the wrong reasons.

Poor Peter.

But if her despised beauty could seriously attract Daniel Wolfe it would be worth all the problems it had caused in the past.

She had never imagined herself using her looks to try to ensnare a man, but knowing she was the type of woman he went for was an unexpected bonus and helped to bolster her determination.

But if he invariably went in for the kind of casual relationships where no feelings were involved the whole thing might well be impossible.

To succeed in what she was hoping to do, not only had she got to make him want her, somehow she had to make him fall in love with her…

As the office door opened and Mr Telford came in she looked up, a mite flustered, her cheeks growing hot as though he could read her thoughts.

Crossing to his desk, the tall, grey-haired MD said, ‘Charlotte, my dear, do sit down. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I got held up at lunch.’

Taking a seat opposite, she strove to look cool and collected, as though the outcome of the interview didn’t matter all that much.

His light blue eyes kind, Telford asked, ‘So you’re still interested in the move to New York?’

‘Yes.’ She hoped she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt.

‘Quite sure? It might mean having more contact with Mr Wolfe.’ It was as far as he could go by way of warning.

‘Absolutely.’ She answered steadily.

It seemed that she had decided to put the past behind her. Relieved, he asked, ‘Perhaps you’d like to tell me why?’

She had expected the question and rehearsed her reply. ‘Apart from the fact that a firsthand knowledge of American market trends could prove to be invaluable, it would be a good chance to compare the way different teams work. I understand the New York team are usually extremely accurate with their predictions. I thought I might learn something.’

‘A text-book answer,’ he remarked with a smile. ‘Though I rather suspected you had a more personal reason for wanting this move?’

She froze. It seemed he knew.

But he couldn’t possibly know.

‘How do you mean, a more personal reason?’

A twinkle in his eye, he said, ‘Didn’t you once tell me you’d like a chance to live in New York?’

‘Yes. Yes, I did… I’m just surprised you remembered.’ Then boldly, ‘Does having a personal reason disqualify me?’

‘Of course not. The mere fact that you want to live there is a big plus.’

Her sigh of relief was audible.

‘In my opinion you’re the candidate best suited to the move and, though I’m sure they’ll miss you on the team, I’ll put your name forward to Mr Wolfe.’

‘That’s marvellous.’ She smiled at him brilliantly.

Blinking, he thanked the Lord that he was a very happily married man. Though she had been working for Wolfe International for almost two years, her beauty never failed to move him.

‘If he’s in agreement, which I’m sure he will be, all your travelling expenses will, of course, be met and you’ll have the use of a company flat. Any idea how long it will take you to get organized for the transfer?’

‘I can be ready as soon as you wish.’

The sooner the better.

‘With Christmas less than two weeks away, I imagine some time around mid-January should be fine. Will leaving your present accommodation give you any problems? I mean from a practical point of view?’

‘No. I share a rented flat with an old school friend. Carla should have no trouble finding someone to take my place while I’m away.’

‘Excellent… Then, as soon as I’ve had a word with Mr Wolfe, I’ll let you know.’

‘Thank you.’ Her legs not quite steady, Charlotte made her way back to her own office—one of a row of small offices, little more than cubicles, that made up Research and Analysis—and sat down at her desk.

Her thoughts were chaotic, tumbling over each other like clowns in a circus ring. She had succeeded in taking the first step.

So long as Daniel Wolfe raised no objections…

But why should he? She and Tim had different surnames and, out of the country when it all happened, she hadn’t been involved in any way, so he would have no idea there was any connection.

Charlotte felt her whole body tense as once again the hatred and anger rose up inside, sharp and biting, bitter as gall on her tongue.

After leaving college, and the somewhat wild bunch he had run around with, Tim had seemed to lose a lot of the feckless ways that had so worried her.

Settled in his new job with Wolfe International—a job Charlotte’s recommendation had managed to get him—and confident about the future, he had fallen in love with Janice Jeffries, a pretty young blonde who had worked in the next office.

Janice, in her turn, had been fascinated by the young fair-haired giant with sparkling green eyes and a winning smile.

Discovering that the attraction was mutual, within a very short time they had arranged to move in together and had started to make plans to get married some time in September.

With Tim to support money had been very tight and Charlotte had taken no holidays since starting in her present job. She had five weeks due to her, so when Carla and she were offered a two-berth, last-minute cancellation on a ‘roughing it’ sailing trip around the Greek Islands she had gone off happily, not at all concerned about leaving the young couple.

While they were away it had happened, coming out of the blue swiftly, shockingly, and by the time the news had filtered through to them, and they had arrived back from Athens, it was too late.

Apparently trying to drown his sorrows, Tim had swallowed a lethal cocktail of drink and drugs.

He was dead and buried.

There was nothing anyone could do.

Though the verdict had been an unequivocal Accidental Death, the gutter press had somehow scented a story. Discovering that there had been a fight in one of the offices of Wolfe International between the dead man and Daniel Wolfe himself they were enjoying a field day.

Having managed to dig up the fact that Tim’s fiancée had been involved, they were suggesting a love-triangle and hinting at possible suicide.

Blaming herself, Charlotte had bitterly regretted going away. If she had been at home things might have been different.

No, would have been different. If what the newspapers were suggesting was true, she would have been there for Tim, as she had been every day for the past five years…

The office door opening made her jump. She glanced up, her expression bleak.

‘Don’t look so anxious.’ Mr Telford smiled at her. ‘I’ve spoken to Mr Wolfe and he’s quite willing to go along with my recommendation. There’s only one thing; he’d like you to travel over to the States as soon as possible so you can get settled in before Christmas.’