# Lady Surrender

Carole Mortimer

Carole Mortimer is one of Mills & Boon’s best loved Modern Romance authors. With nearly 200 books published and a career spanning 35 years, Mills & Boon are thrilled to present her complete works available to download for the very first time! Rediscover old favourites - and find new ones! - in this fabulous collection…His challenge…At first Aaron Grantley can't see why his best friend was so distracted by someone like Charly Allenby. But soon he can’t imagine any man not losing his head over her!…her surrender!Charly feels as if she's been run over by a steamroller. Aaron is presumptuous, overbearing, impossible to reason with—and hopelessly attractive! The fire in his eyes at her resistance is intense, but Charly has first-hand experience with men who love a challenge. Can she risk surrendering her heart again?

## Lady Surrender. 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

Copyright

## CHAPTER ONE

CHARLY barely had time to click back the lock on the apartment door before it was pushed forcibly open, knocking her off-balance as she grabbed at the towel she had quickly draped about herself when the doorbell rang seconds ago, having to get out of the shower to answer it.

The man who had pushed his way in towered over her five foot frame, but there was still challenge in her wide grey eyes as she looked up at him, successfully hiding her nervousness at this intrusion. ‘I don’t know who you are—–’

‘No,’ he acknowledged harshly. ‘But I know who you are!’ His aggressive accent was definitely American.

‘Obviously,’ she drawled. ‘If you’re after money or jewellery I think I should tell you I don’t have any here.’

His green-eyed gaze raked over her contemptuously. ‘Women like you only have one jewel, lady, and even that gets tarnished after a while.’

Charly gasped at the crude insult, all nervousness fading. ‘If you want to take what valuables there are then do so and leave,’ she instructed haughtily.

His mouth twisted. ‘You’re pretty free with what doesn’t belong to you, aren’t you?’ he scorned derisively. ‘But then you have no idea of morality, do you?’

‘I beg your pardon!’ She raised light brown brows indignantly, their indistinctive colour making it difficult to tell whether the hair beneath the second towel she had draped around her wet hair was blonde, brunette, or auburn, or a mixture of all three.

‘I’m not the one you should be apologising to—–’

‘Are you some sort of political fanatic?’ Charly frowned suspiciously.

‘Hell, no!’

‘Then what do you want? If it’s me, I ought to tell you I’ve been taught self-defence.’

‘Lady, I wouldn’t care if you were a judo and Kung Fu expert rolled into one,’ he dismissed harshly. ‘I’m not about to let a five foot nothing woman defeat me in achieving what I came here to do!’

As he must have stood about six foot four, was deeply muscled beneath the pale green shirt and leather jacket, his legs lean and strong beneath black trousers, and her self-defence classes had been nowhere near as expert as judo or Kung Fu, he could be right! But she wasn’t about to let him know that. ‘My husband is in the bedroom,’ she told him firmly, hoping the classical lie in a situation like this sounded more convincing to him than it did to her.

The green eyes became contemptuous. ‘You don’t have a husband of your own, only someone else’s—and I happen to know he’s out of town!’

Charly gave an irritated frown. ‘Are you sure you have the right apartment?’ Maybe they could laugh together about this once he realised his mistake—but she doubted it. This man was beyond a joke, and the situation wasn’t at all funny!

In other circumstances she might even have thought him attractive. He had a certain rakish appearance, casually styled black hair, a reckless light in those deep green eyes, his mouth firmly sculptured, his jaw square, his lean body obviously kept in physical health, although the cynicism in his expression wasn’t quite as attractive, or the derision for her he didn’t try to hide behind politeness.

‘This is Matt Parker’s apartment, isn’t it?’ he rasped.

‘Yes,’ she frowned.

‘And you are Charly, aren’t you?’

She stiffened. ‘Only my friends are allowed to call me that.’

He gave her a contemptuous look. ‘And I’m sure there are a lot of them, honey—all male!’

She drew in an angry breath. ‘I don’t know if you mean to be insulting—–’

‘Oh, I do,’ he drawled. ‘Believe me, I do!’

‘You don’t know the first thing about me—–’

‘I know the only thing I want to know about you,’ he scoffed. ‘Matt must have been insane to get mixed up with a woman like you.’ He looked at her critically. ‘Admittedly, you’re beautiful—–’

‘Thank you!’ she said with sarcasm.

‘In an earthy sort of way.’ His gaze lingered on the pert fullness of her breasts and the generous curve of her hips. ‘But you certainly don’t look worth throwing away eight years of marriage, a lovely wife, and two kids for!’ he added scathingly.

‘I’m sure you’re right—–’

‘You bet I am. And when Matt gets back from this damned trip he’s going to thank me for finishing things between you—after I’ve killed him,’ he muttered grimly. ‘I did enough bailing out for him at university; I don’t expect to still have to do it!’

Charly was more puzzled than ever. ‘You were at university with Matt?’

‘Yes. Now when Molly gets here I want you to—–’

‘Matt’s wife is coming here?’ She frowned her confusion. ‘Whatever for?’

‘Don’t act dumb,’ he scowled. ‘Or maybe you are,’ he derided. ‘A mistress doesn’t usually answer the telephone in her lover’s apartment and speak to his wife! Unless you’re trying to break them up?’ he grated. ‘You don’t fancy being the next Mrs Matt Parker, do you?’ he scorned. ‘Believe me, it will never happen. Matt may be infatuated with you at the moment, but he’ll listen to me when I tell him you’re nothing but a mercenary little tramp.’

Charly had a feeling much like it must be to be run over by a steam-roller! ‘I’m sure he will,’ she answered dazedly.

He nodded, as if there were no doubting the fact. ‘In the meantime we have to convince Molly that she’s all wrong about the two of you.’

‘And just how do you propose to do that?’ she asked dryly.

‘With the only language women like you understand—money,’ he told her derisively.

Charly stiffened, resentment in every bone of her body. ‘Is that so?’ she drawled.

He nodded, his expression contemptuous. ‘And a little acting on your part too—but I’m sure that won’t be difficult for you either,’ he dismissed with disgust.

In other circumstances she would have put this man firmly in his place, and friend of Matt’s or not, it would not have been this apartment! But at the moment she was too bemused—certainly not amused!—by the assumption he seemed to have made about her and Matt. She was even more interested in hearing how he intended dealing with the situation.

‘Go on,’ she invited.

‘I’ve told Molly that you’re my girlfriend.’ The man looked at her with dislike.

Charly returned that dislike—with interest. ‘Couldn’t you have thought of something better than that?’

‘In the thinking time I had, no,’ he glared at her. ‘I got in to the country yesterday—–’

‘I guessed you weren’t English,’ she scorned.

‘Not gentlemanly enough for you, hmm?’ he derided. ‘Well I don’t know where you got that plummy accent from,’ he dismissed harshly, ‘but I can assure you I don’t think of you as a lady either!’

Insulting man! Her parents had paid a small fortune for her to acquire this ‘plummy accent’. And she didn’t think it was ‘plummy’ at all, just correct English. Ignorant lout!

‘You were telling me about this marvellous plan you had devised to convince Molly that Matt and I aren’t lovers,’ she prompted in a bored voice. ‘And perhaps it would be better if you introduced yourself.’

Green eyes glittered dangerously. ‘The name is Aaron Grantley. And I’d advise you not to irritate me, lady; I’m angry enough already!’

The threat passed unheeded. Aaron Grantley! She had had no idea what he looked like and so hadn’t recognised him, although he was much more well-known in his native America. But she had heard of him, knew that when it came to business there was none better, that the man had amassed a fortune and a hotel empire in America using his business acumen, that he was now interested in advancing into England. Charly hadn’t realised he was in the country. Perhaps she ought to put an end to this right now, before—–

‘Women like you are a dime a dozen,’ he told her coldly. ‘Damn parasites, living off the vulnerability of married men—–’

‘Mr Grantley—–’

‘Believe me, the thought of having to pretend to be your lover makes my skin crawl,’ he added disgustedly. ‘You would have to get me so damned drunk I wouldn’t know what I was doing before I could make love to you!’ he bit out insultingly. ‘But I’m sure there are lots of men who aren’t averse to paying for your services, one way or another.’

Charly was very pale by the time he had finished, all idea of denying a relationship with Matt completely forgotten. Even if she were the sort of woman this man thought she was he had no right to talk to her in this way. People who knew her well would have recognised and understood the anger in silver eyes that were usually a calm grey, and they would have very wisely not pushed her any further.

‘I believe you mentioned something about money yourself,’ she prompted hardly.

The firmly sculptured mouth twisted derisively. ‘I didn’t think you would have missed that.’

She gave a haughty inclination of her head. ‘I never ignore the mention of money, Mr Grantley.’

He nodded. ‘I already guessed that,’ he drawled. ‘I’m prepared to pay you well to pretend to be my girlfriend while Molly is here.’

‘How much?’

‘I see the thought of money puts colour in your cheeks,’ he scorned harshly.

If there were any colour in her cheeks it was anger at this man. How dare he come here making assumptions, throwing out accusations and insults! She might regret her silence later, but for the moment she relished the time she would tell this man how wrong he was.

‘I said how much, Mr Grantley?’ she repeated coldly.

He gave a disgusted snort. ‘I bet Matt has never seen you like this; I’m sure you’re always sweet and lovable with him!’

Charly looked at him steadily. ‘I have no reason not to be,’ she stated truthfully.

‘I suppose he bought you those little rocks.’ Aaron Grantley glared at the diamond studs in her earlobes.

‘Actually, no,’ she told him smoothly.

‘Then some other poor besotted idiot did,’ he accused disgustedly.

James had never been poor, and certainly not a besotted idiot, she thought bitterly. ‘What sort of payment did you have in mind, Mr Grantley?’ she asked him hardly.

‘How about a bracelet to match the earrings?’

Her brows rose; whatever this man was he wasn’t miserly! ‘Your friendship with Matt must be a very close one,’ she frowned.

‘Not close enough, obviously.’ His gaze raked over her contemptuously. ‘He certainly didn’t tell me about you.’ He made the statement an insult.

Charly shrugged. ‘Probably because he knew you would disapprove.’

‘Any real friend would,’ he rasped. ‘The damned fool is married!’

‘Are you married?’ She didn’t remember ever hearing about any marriage, but it was always a possibility.

His mouth twisted. ‘My marital state is none of your business!’

‘I just thought, with Molly being a friend, you might find—this—awkward, if you have a wife too.’

Aaron Grantley sighed. ‘I don’t have a wife, a live-in girlfriend, or indeed any serious relationship at the moment. Which is just as well with Matt in this mess,’ he ground out.

She nodded. ‘You had better tell me exactly what you’ve told Molly about us.’

‘Not a lot,’ he grated forcefully. ‘How could I when I knew nothing about you? Matt had mentioned to me that this apartment wouldn’t be available for my stay because he was letting Charly stay here for a while; I assumed it was one of his colleagues from the hospital that he lets use it when it isn’t convenient for them to travel out of town to their homes. He also told Molly that someone was using the apartment before he left yesterday but he didn’t say who, and like me she assumed it was one of his colleagues from the hospital. Then she realised Matt had left an address book here that she needed, and telephoned to see if this colleague could send it on to her. You answered the telephone,’ he accused.

Charly vaguely remembered the hastily ended conversation with a woman caller earlier, the other woman ringing off once she was told Charly wasn’t the doctor on duty at the hospital that evening. Charly hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, now she realised that must have been Molly.

‘The poor woman is worried out of her mind,’ Aaron Grantley told her harshly. ‘She’s left the kids with her mother and is driving up here immediately.’

Charly frowned. ‘And where do you come in to it, besides being Matt’s friend?’

‘Molly telephoned me after talking to you, to invite me down to dinner tomorrow, and also to ask me if I knew anything about you—casually. Too casually,’ he added pointedly.

‘You’re having dinner with Matt’s wife while he’s away?’ she taunted.

His mouth tightened formidably. ‘He’ll be back tomorrow afternoon; don’t credit everyone else with your alley-cat morals!’

She drew in an angry breath. ‘If you’re so damned pure why does Molly believe you’re capable of keeping a woman at your best friend’s apartment?’ she accused coldly.

‘Doesn’t the fact that she’s driving up here anyway tell you that she doesn’t believe it?’ His eyes glittered. ‘She knows damn well I would do anything to protect Matt, and that includes lying for him. So you had better give the performance of your life, lady!’

‘How do you know I don’t work at the hospital?’ she frowned. ‘They have allowed women to enter professions for some years now, you know,’ she added scornfully.

‘Molly knows the names of the people Matt lets stay here, and none of them are called Charly! Besides,’ he looked at her derisively, ‘you don’t look as if you have the brains to do more than entertain a man!’

A chauvinist as well as everything else! ‘I’m not surprised you don’t have a woman in your life at the moment, Mr Grantley,’ she bit out coldly. ‘In fact, I’m surprised you’ve ever had one with your opinion of us!’

‘How do you think I came by this opinion?’ he scorned.

She looked him over coolly. ‘By choosing the wrong sort of woman, obviously. But they were probably the only sort you could get! Certainly no intelligent woman would want to be involved with such a male chauvinist.’

‘Pig,’ he finished derisively. ‘That is the colloquialism of today, isn’t it?’ he drawled at her questioning look.

‘Male chauvinistic pig,’ she tested the statement for sound. ‘Yes, I believe that applies to you quite nicely.’

‘And we both know my opinion of you,’ he rasped. ‘So my acting had better be good too!’

‘Just when are you expecting Molly to arrive?’

‘It takes just over an hour from the house, so any time now, I would think,’ he scowled. ‘So you had better get yourself dressed.’

‘Wouldn’t it look more convincing if I stayed as I am?’ she mocked.

Cold green eyes looked her over critically. ‘Get dressed,’ he instructed abruptly. ‘There’s no reason for us to look as if we’ve just been to bed together.’

‘Heaven forbid it should look as if you had actually made love to me!’ Her eyes flashed.

‘How old are you?’ he rasped.

‘Twenty-six,’ she was surprised into answering the question. ‘What does that have to do with anything?’

His mouth twisted. ‘I would have thought that by now you would have been used to the knocks.’

Her expression became unreadable. ‘I am,’ she answered abruptly. ‘I just don’t expect insults from a man I don’t even know—and who certainly doesn’t know me,’ she added hardly.

‘What I do know I don’t like,’ he bit out. ‘But you had better tell me a little about yourself so that this act at least stands a chance of succeeding.’

‘My name is Charly—Allenby, I’m unmarried, and as I’ve already told you, I’m twenty-six.’

Aaron Grantley frowned darkly. ‘That’s all?’

‘The prisoner is only required to give name, rank, and number,’ she drawled derisively.

‘Stop being so damned blasé,’ he rasped grimly. ‘I’m trying to save the marriage of my two dearest friends—and you’re being paid to help me!’

‘Maybe if you didn’t make assumptions—–’

‘The next thing I know you’ll be claiming that your being here is perfectly innocent,’ he scorned.

‘It is. Look, why would Matt tell you or his wife I were here if I were his mistress?’

‘He told Molly because he didn’t want her to come here and find you in residence, and he told me for the same reason. Charly, go and get some clothes on,’ he said wearily. ‘You’re just wasting time.’

She had never met anyone like him, even James hadn’t been this arrogant! ‘If you’ll just let me explain—–’

‘I don’t want to hear all the details,’ he snapped, settling himself down in an armchair. ‘After tonight I don’t even want to see you again.’

She sighed. ‘I don’t suppose it’s of any interest to you that I was going out this evening?’

‘None at all,’ he confirmed flatly. ‘And remember, as far as you’re concerned Molly is merely coming here to collect an address book; don’t embarrass her by letting her know you’re aware of the real reason.’

She left the room after giving him an indignant glare. Living with James’ arrogance had been frustrating enough, accepting a far deeper arrogance from a complete stranger was unacceptable to her.

But he wasn’t a complete stranger. She had heard all too much of Aaron Grantley in the business world during recent weeks, his latest business venture even intruding into her life. And now the man himself had come bursting into her life with the same intrusive determination to get what he wanted. Well he was going to get far more than he had bargained for from her tonight!

She was putting the finishing touches to her hair when she heard the doorbell ring, turning off the dryer to hear the murmur of voices in the lounge, a breathless female one, and Aaron Grantley’s softer soothing one. She hoped his acting ability was as good as he seemed confident it was, because he was going to need it during the next few seconds!

The couple in the lounge weren’t initially aware of her presence, and she took the opportunity to watch Molly unobserved. She was a tall, pretty woman, about Charly’s own age, with short black hair, darkly lashed blue eyes, talking worriedly to Aaron Grantley. They both seemed to become aware of Charly’s presence at the same moment, turning simultaneously.

It was lucky for Aaron Grantley that the other woman did turn to look at her too, because his mouth literally fell open as he gazed at Charly in dazed surprise. She had been well aware of the impact she would make, had dressed with just that idea in mind. The black and gold dress was Japanese in style, high-necked, short-sleeved, completely figure-hugging, her legs long and shapely beneath its knee length, her gold sandals adding to her height with three-inch heels. Her hair was a straight golden swathe to her waist, her make-up dark and dramatic, far heavier than she normally wore it. Aaron Grantley could now see exactly why a man, married or otherwise, could lose his head over her!

‘I hope I wasn’t too long, darling.’ She swayed gracefully into the room, putting her arms about his neck to kiss him lingeringly on the mouth as he stood perfectly still, rigid with shock. ‘And you must be Molly.’ She turned to the other woman, smiling warmly. ‘Matt has told me so much about you.’

Molly looked taken aback. ‘I—He has?’

‘Oh yes. And your two adorable children. It was so kind of him to let me use his apartment like this.’ She glared hardly at Aaron Grantley before moving out of his arms. ‘Did you find your address book?’ she smiled at the other woman once again.

‘Er—yes.’ Molly looked uncomfortable.

‘Oh good,’ she nodded. ‘I hope it doesn’t inconvenience you that I’m staying here; the fire just about gutted my lounge, although the decorators hope to be finished soon. Shall we sit down?’ she invited smoothly.

Molly plopped down on to the sofa while Charly sank down more gracefully, the length of the slit up the skirt of her dress revealing most of her thigh as she crossed one knee over the other.

‘Fire?’ Molly prompted.

‘Mm,’ Charly nodded, turning curiously to Aaron Grantley as he stood across the room still staring at her. ‘Darling, why don’t you sit down,’ her voice lowered throatily. ‘I’m sure Molly doesn’t have to rush off.’

‘I—I think I’ll have a drink first,’ he spoke decisively. ‘Ladies?’ he added abruptly, as if he had just remembered his manners.

They both declined, and Charly turned to Molly as she guessed the other woman was still waiting for an answer to her question. ‘I detest smoking at the best of times,’ she confided, having to choke back a laugh as she saw the gold cigarette case Aaron Grantley had been reaching for drop back unopened into the breast-pocket of the pale green shirt. ‘But now I refuse to have it anywhere near me,’ she added firmly, all humour gone. ‘A guest at my apartment the other evening forgot about a cigarette she had been smoking and it fell beneath the coffee-table. It smouldered there until I’d gone to bed and then the carpet caught fire.’

‘Oh how awful,’ Molly was genuinely disturbed. ‘Were you hurt?’

‘I inhaled a lot of smoke before a neighbour broke down the door,’ she revealed abruptly, very aware of how intently Aaron Grantley was listening now. ‘They kept me in hospital for observation but I was fine.’

Molly looked accusingly at Aaron Grantley. ‘You didn’t tell me any of this.’

‘Actually, I didn’t tell him,’ Charly explained truthfully. ‘I knew he wouldn’t have liked my having the dinner party while he wasn’t here; he can be so jealous,’ she confided indulgently, studiously avoiding his furious gaze.

‘Aaron can?’ Molly looked stunned.

‘Oh yes,’ Charly nodded. ‘Besides, there was nothing he could do in America.’

‘Then Matt should have told me about it,’ Molly muttered uncomfortably.

‘It only happened at the weekend,’ Charly excused. ‘And now that Aaron is here I can forget all about it,’ she added mockingly, looking up at him challengingly.

Molly shook her head. ‘The two of you seem so close, and yet Aaron hasn’t breathed a word about you to us.’

‘Aaron’s not used to our relationship himself yet,’ she confided. ‘I’m afraid he’s still a little wary of the speed with which we fell in love.’

Molly’s eyes widened at this information. ‘Are the two of you engaged?’ she gasped.

‘I—–’

‘Aaron is a little too old for an engagement,’ Charly dismissed lightly, meeting his furious gaze innocently. ‘So we’ve just decided to get married.’ She kept her face straight as Aaron almost choked on his whisky, his face going red with anger.

‘When?’ Molly squeaked.

‘Well we haven’t actually decided on a date yet, but—–’

‘But you can be sure you and Matt will be the first to know when we do decide on one,’ Aaron put in forcefully. ‘I thought that was going to remain our secret for a while?’ he added gratingly to Charly.

She raised innocent brows. ‘Surely not from such good friends as Molly and Matt?’

‘From anybody.’ He sounded as if he were spitting nails!

‘Well, you didn’t tell me that, darling,’ she drawled, relaxing back in her chair, her grey eyes meeting his calmly. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve ruined your surprise.’

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.’

‘Graphically,’ he drawled.

‘I’m sure,’ her mouth twisted. ‘So now you know I’m the “rich bitch” who is trying to ruin your bid for Shevton House.’

He grinned, looking about the room appreciatively ‘Mrs Hart apparently likes to surround herself with luxury,’ he derided.

‘Mrs Hart earned this luxury,’ she told him tightly, taking the bronze sculpture of a horse out of his hand and placing it back on her desk-top.

‘That isn’t what I heard,’ he mocked, stretching his long length out in one of the armchairs, watching her through narrowed lids. ‘You took over when your husband died. Which brings me to the point of why you lied about your name yesterday,’ he added sharply.

‘I didn’t lie.’ Her eyes flashed silver. ‘My name is Allenby.’

‘Was,’ Aaron Grantley corrected abruptly. ‘Before you married the son of your father’s business partner seven years ago. Maybe you did earn this company after all,’ he derided. ‘The marriage was certainly a convenient one.’ He raised mocking brows.

‘I don’t have to explain myself to you—–’

‘I doubt Rocharlle Hart ever explains herself to anyone. How did you ever get a name like Rocharlle, anyway?’ he taunted.

‘My parents.’

‘That’s obvious,’ he dismissed mockingly. ‘But it isn’t what I meant.’

‘Rowena and Charles,’ she explained impatiently. ‘When they were told I was to be an only child they named me after both of them.’

‘It would have been easier to call you Charlotte after your father,’ Aaron Grantley derided.

It would have been a lot less embarrassing too; her unusual first name had been a talking point all her life. ‘You didn’t come here to talk about my name—–’

‘In part I did,’ his voice hardened. ‘Why didn’t you tell me last night who you were?’

‘For the same reason you came here today and acted as if our engagement were a reality; which incidentally I want you to correct before you leave—I was angry,’ she bit out. ‘Matt innocently told you I was staying at his apartment, and then because you were told it was a woman and not a man as you had supposed you assumed I had to be his mistress.’

He shrugged broad shoulders, perfectly relaxed. ‘I’m still not sure that isn’t true.’

Charly gasped. ‘I thought you said you had spoken to Matt?’

‘I have,’ he nodded. ‘But like you, he doesn’t feel he has to explain himself. He’s mad as hell at both Molly and me for jumping to conclusions,’ he added ruefully.

‘He’s told Molly the truth?’

‘Not exactly,’ Aaron Grantley derided. ‘Apparently she’s a little emotional at the moment, and he seems to think we’ve complicated the situation by pretending to be engaged, believes that if he told her the truth now Molly would think he had something to hide.’

Charly sighed. ‘I’m inclined to agree with him.’

‘I’m willing to accept that,’ Aaron Grantley nodded. ‘Although Molly’s emotional state seems a little convenient to me.’

She gave him a disparaging look. ‘Are you always this suspicious?’

‘Only when I find a beautiful woman staying at my best friend’s apartment,’ he drawled.

‘I hope to be moving out at the end of the week,’ Charly snapped.

‘To go where?’

‘My own home, of course,’ she told him impatiently.

‘Ah yes, the one that’s been damaged by fire.’

‘Mr Grantley, I don’t care for your tone—–’

‘And I don’t care for this whole charade,’ he rasped, his eyes bright with anger. ‘Especially now that I know the woman I’m engaged to is also the woman who’s interfering in my property deal.’

‘There are some that would say you have that the wrong way around, Mr Grantley,’ she returned coldly.

‘Aaron,’ he instructed tensely. ‘Shevton was on the point of accepting my offer when you came along with a better one,’ he scowled.

‘And you counter-offered.’

‘And so did you,’ he ground out. ‘How high are you prepared to go?’

‘I don’t believe that is any of your business,’ she snapped indignantly.

‘What the hell does Hartall Industries want with a house like that and a thousand acres?’ His eyes were narrowed.

Hartall Industries didn’t want them at all; the offer to buy was a purely personal one. But obviously Aaron Grantley wasn’t aware of that, at least.

‘I suppose you plan to turn it in to yet another hotel?’ she scorned.

His mouth tightened. ‘You have to see that it would be ideal.’

‘It could have other uses,’ she dismissed.

‘Don’t tell me, as a health-farm for all your over-indulged friends,’ he derided. ‘Or perhaps as a clinic where they can go to “dry out”,’ he added contemptuously. ‘I hear that’s very fashionable nowadays.’

‘I don’t have any friends that need to “dry out”,’ Charly snapped at his condescension. ‘Just as it’s none of your business what I do with Shevton House once I’ve bought it.’

‘If you buy it,’ he corrected gratingly. ‘Which you won’t,’ he said confidently.

‘I wouldn’t put money on it,’ she warned him softly, her grey gaze calm and confident.

‘It’s perfect for what I want,’ he announced arrogantly. ‘The building itself, and its location in that little cove is ideal too. You aren’t thinking of going in to the hotel business yourself, are you?’ he mocked.

‘No,’ she dismissed with a derisive laugh. ‘I’ve stayed at several of your hotels in the past, Mr—Aaron, and I don’t think I could compete.’ His hotels offered the sort of first-class accommodation James had always insisted on when they travelled abroad. ‘I’m sure Shevton House would make a very good hotel, I just happen to have other plans for it.’

‘Shevton isn’t likely to sell to either of us now until he gets top dollar,’ Aaron grimaced.

She shrugged. ‘We both know it’s worth it.’

Green eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘You must want it very badly.’

‘Yes,’ she confirmed flatly.

He continued to look at her steadily for several seconds, then he shrugged. ‘May the best man—person, win.’

Her mouth twisted. ‘Oh, I will,’ she assured him.

Aaron looked amused. ‘That might be difficult, as I intend Shevton House to be mine.’

‘We’ll see,’ she said enigmatically.

‘You weren’t in for your delivery this morning, so I brought this with me.’ He drew out a jewellery box from his pocket, holding it out to her.

‘You must realise now that I don’t want—or need—the bracelet and necklace,’ she told him stiffly.

‘It did occur to me,’ he drawled. ‘So I took them back and got you this instead.’

Charly took the velvet box uncertainly, flicking open the lid. Inside was a gold charm bracelet, but it was the charms attached to it that made her smile, tiny animals all made in minute detail. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she smiled up at Aaron, frowning as she saw the last charm. ‘But what’s this?’ she held up the miniature engagement and wedding rings, the emerald in the former obviously genuine.

‘Obligatory, I’m afraid,’ he grimaced. ‘Window dressing for Molly tonight.’

Charly looked up at him slowly. ‘I thought we had agreed we would make my excuses?’

‘Hm,’ he sighed. ‘I’m afraid, as Matt pointed out to me, it would look a bit odd, to Molly, if we broke off our engagement so quickly. Which is why I also purchased this,’ he took a ring-box out of his other pocket.

‘Oh no,’ Charly put her hands behind her back, staring with horror at the finger-sized replica of the emerald ring on the charm bracelet, the emerald the size of a penny. ‘I’m not wearing that,’ she shook her head.

‘I know we told Molly we weren’t bothering with an engagement, but—–’

‘I am not wearing it.’ She repressed a shiver of revulsion as she imagined the gold shackle around her finger. ‘I’m allergic to rings,’ she told him breathlessly.

‘To the gold, you mean?’ he frowned.

‘No—to wearing them!’ This time she couldn’t hold back the shudder. ‘They’re a licence to imprison.’

His brows rose. ‘So the marriage wasn’t so convenient after all,’ he drawled.

She looked at him sharply. ‘I don’t wish to talk about my marriage.’

‘There seems to be quite a few things you refuse to talk about,’ Aaron taunted.

‘Have I tried to pry into your private life?’ Her eyes shone silver. ‘Have I asked even one question?’

‘You asked if I were married,’ he reminded.

She sighed. ‘In the circumstances I would have thought you would be as averse to the thought of my wearing your ring as I am,’ she derided.

‘But I know it’s only temporary.’

‘It’s also unnecessary. Thank you, but no thank you,’ she said firmly. ‘And are you absolutely sure you can’t get me out of dinner this evening?’ she frowned. ‘I’d really rather not go.’

‘Matt seemed to think it was necessary.’ He pocketed the ring-box.

She chewed on her inner lip. ‘Very well then—if I have no choice.’

‘My ego has taken a severe beating since I met you,’ Aaron drawled dryly.

‘I don’t think it’s going to do it much harm,’ Charly derided.

‘You aren’t exactly lacking in self-confidence yourself, you know,’ he pointed out softly.

Perhaps if he had met her a year ago he would have thought differently. Six years of marriage to a man as strong-willed as James had stripped her of most of the poise and confidence that had been imbued in to her at the finishing-school she had attended in Switzerland. When a man was as assured and arrogant as James had been something had to give in a marriage, and for the sake of peace it had always been Charly. It would never happen to her again, she was her own woman now, and intended to remain that way.

‘I’m Rocharlle Allenby-Hart, remember?’ she drawled. ‘With the gold spoon in my mouth.’

He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Maybe that gold becomes a little heavy to carry at times,’ he murmured.

She wasn’t sure if he meant literally or figuratively—whichever one he was right! ‘I can live with it,’ she mocked.

‘Who couldn’t?’ he derided. ‘And if Matt isn’t the man in your life then who is?’

She avoided his probing eyes. ‘There isn’t one. My husband has only been dead a year,’ she defended—and then mentally chastised herself for doing so; she had given up justifying her actions after James died. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me,’ she added briskly, ‘I have work to do …’

‘Buying country houses being part of it,’ he mocked.

‘Yes,’ she acknowledged challengingly.

‘We’ll see,’ Aaron murmured.

She could see the return of challenge in his own eyes, and knew that he was enjoying himself. James had enjoyed challenges too, an easy conquest held no interest for him. But she hadn’t known that until it was too late, until she found him in her cousin’s arms, Jocelyn treating him in the same casual way James regarded Charly. And how James had loved it. And how he had loved Jocelyn too. But when she had asked him for a divorce he hadn’t wanted Jocelyn enough to give up the one thing he did want from his marriage to Charly. And then when he had decided he wanted a divorce he had once again used the one threat against her guaranteed to make her agree to anything he wanted.

‘Where have you gone to?’

She focused her attention on Aaron Grantley with effort, having forgotten his presence as she thought of that last conversation with James that had ended in tragedy. ‘Nowhere, Mr Grantley.’ She moved to sit behind her desk. ‘For a moment you reminded me of someone,’ she added as he seemed to expect more.

His eyes narrowed. ‘They seemed unhappy thoughts.’

‘They were,’ she acknowledged bluntly.

‘I realise we got off to a bad start last night—–’

‘We didn’t get off to a start at all,’ she corrected abruptly. ‘You threw out a lot of groundless accusations, bullied me into acting like your girlfriend—–’

‘No one bullied you into anything,’ Aaron cut in. ‘I don’t think anyone ever could—What did you say?’ he frowned as she muttered something under her breath.

She straightened her shoulders. ‘I said they could try,’ she spoke loud enough for him to hear this time.

He shrugged dismissively. ‘You wanted to put Molly’s mind at rest,’ he stated firmly.

‘Matt adores her,’ she said flatly.

‘He wouldn’t be the first man in love with his wife to be attracted to another woman,’ Aaron spoke hardly.

‘What time are we expected for dinner this evening?’ she ignored the question in his tone.

‘Eight o’clock.’

She nodded. ‘I’ll drive myself down,’ she told him briskly. ‘I expect to be working late.’

‘I’ll call for you.’

‘I’d prefer to drive myself,’ she said determinedly.

‘Independent, huh?’ he derided.

‘Absolutely.’ Cold grey eyes met his amused gaze.

‘James Hart must have been a bastard,’ he said with narrowed eyes.