# Blackmailed By The Boss

Kathryn Ross

When Charlotte wakes up with her father's business partner–her boss–she thinks things can't get much worse.Then Jordan drops his bombshell about her stepmother's embezzlement. He's using the debt to take over the company–Charlotte's inheritance! Worse still, in return for not prosecuting, he's insisting Charlotte must remain with the company for a year–at his beck and call!But the worst thing of all is that Jordan is so devastatingly attractive….

## She’d never felt so acutely conscious of a man before.

It was as if she had suddenly regressed to being a very young teenager again, hormones racing all out of control.

He was barring her way. “Are we going to call a truce, Charlotte?”

“A truce?” She looked up at him uncertainly.

“Well, we can’t go on like this, can we?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do. I’m sorry about what’s happened.”

She wondered which particular thing he was sorry about—notching her up on his bedpost or accusing her stepmother of fraud?

KATHRYN ROSS was born in Zambia, where her parents happened to live at that time. Educated in Ireland and England, she now lives in a village near Blackpool, Lancashire. Kathryn is a professional beauty consultant, but writing is her first love. As a child she wrote adventure stories, and at thirteen was editor of her school magazine. Happily, ten writing years later, Designed with Love was accepted by Harlequin Presents®. A romantic Sagittarian, she loves traveling to exotic locations.

## Blackmailed by the Boss. Kathryn Ross

www.millsandboon.co.uk

## CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

## CHAPTER ONE

THERE was no excuse, it was probably one of the most stupid things she had ever done in her life—apart from getting involved with David of course, that went without saying, but this… Her thoughts trailed off. This was incomprehensible it was so stupid.

She turned her head slightly on the pillow and looked across to the other side of the bed. They had left the bedside lamp on last night, so she could see him quite clearly—it hadn’t been a dream, he was still there and fast asleep. Charlotte felt panic rising like a spring inside her, gushing like iced water through her veins. Jordan was her father’s business partner, for heaven’s sake; and more than that he was her boss. How could she have let this happen?

Her eyes drifted over his features; he looked different asleep, less formidably handsome…more vulnerable. It was an absurd thought; Jordan Lynch was anything but vulnerable; in fact he was one tough cookie, a dynamic businessman with a never-ending stream of glamorous girlfriends who just seemed to fall at his feet. Charlotte had watched them come and go and she had sworn she would never be one of his conquests. So what had happened? It wasn’t even as if she could blame it on drink—two glasses of sparkling water was hardly mind-altering.

She cast her mind back to yesterday. She remembered her eyes had connected with his through the glass partition of the office. And she remembered thinking that he had the sexiest eyes on earth, before hurriedly looking away again. But that wasn’t so unusual; she was a red-blooded woman after all, and very often she’d glance at Jordan and admire the sheer male perfection of him. But it didn’t mean anything, it was a transitory thought that probably went through every woman’s head at least once when they looked at him.

She had applied herself back to her work, reminding herself that he may be thirty-eight, single, wealthy and gorgeous, but his latest girlfriend was a twenty-three-year-old sultry Latin-American model. And anyway he wasn’t her type—he was too arrogantly sure of himself; good-looking but knew it.

In fact Charlotte had quite enjoyed pretending she didn’t notice him. Being coolly dismissive when everyone else was fawning around him appealed to her rebellious side. She hadn’t particularly agreed with her father taking him on as a partner last year. They had been doing fine without him, then along he’d come with his newfangled ideas and his haughty manner. The first couple of months the air had been a bit frosty between them. But since then things had thawed slightly. To be honest, she’d had to get on with him because her father was rarely here these days and Jordan was running the show.

Then the phone on her desk had rung…

She’d ignored it, thinking her assistant, Frank, would pick it up in the main office. But it had continued to ring until in desperation she’d snatched it up. ‘Charlotte McCann speaking; how may I help?’

‘Hi, Charlie, it’s Melanie. Just thought I’d touch base with you, see how you are. Bearing up, I hope?’

‘Oh…hi, Melanie.’ Charlotte’s heart sank as she heard the sympathetic tones radiating from the other end of the line. Everyone was talking to her like that these days. She knew people meant well but she hated it. ‘I take it you’ve heard?’

‘Yes, Erica told me. I couldn’t believe it; David always seemed such a solid, dependable type.’

Something twisted inside Charlotte. ‘Yes, well, obviously appearances can be deceptive.’

‘I’m really sorry, Charlie. You must be devastated.’

‘Not really. Actually I’m feeling pretty positive about the situation; it’s probably for the best.’ Charlotte scribbled her pen rather violently through a memo Frank had left on her desk. ‘Things had been cooling between us for some time now.’

‘Even so, it’s tough when a relationship ends,’ Melanie purred. ‘Listen, why don’t you come for supper tomorrow? I’m having a lot of the girls over and it would be lovely to see you.’

And talk about the entire story in gory detail, Charlotte finished for her silently. She didn’t want that—she’d rather forget it. ‘It’s a bit short notice, Mel… I’m pretty tied up—’

‘Now, listen, it would do you good. Cindy Smith will be here and Janice Pike, and you haven’t seen them for ages.’ Melanie cut across her in a no-nonsense tone.

Janice Pike! Biggest gossip in London! Charlotte shuddered as she imagined what the evening would be like. They might as well bring along a bright light and a pair of thumbscrews to make it complete.

‘It’s not that…’ She paused as Jordan came into the office and she mouthed to him that she wouldn’t be a minute.

He perched on the edge of her desk, looking very suave in a dark suit with a pristine white shirt beneath. She probably should have taken that as a signal to hang up, but she ignored him, telling herself that she could take a few minutes to chat to a friend when she was always in the office half an hour earlier and half an hour later than anybody else.

‘So what is it?’ Mel persisted, never one to give in easily.

Charlotte took a deep breath and improvised wildly. ‘The fact is, I’m seeing someone and it’s early days…you know what it’s like when you’re in the “getting to know someone” stage.’

‘Well, yes…’ Melanie sounded stunned.

She noticed that even Jordan looked surprised—his dark eyebrows rose slightly.

‘Gosh, that was quick, Charlie!’ Mel drawled. ‘I must say, you don’t hang about.’

‘Well, it is four and a half weeks since David and I split up.’ As soon as she said the words she knew they were a mistake. When you were still counting the days, did it mean you weren’t over someone? ‘Anyway, I’m going to have to go, Mel.’ She tried to wind up the conversation before she made things worse. ‘Jordan has just walked into my office and I mustn’t delay him.’ That, at least, was the truth.

‘Sorry about that,’ she said as she put the phone down. ‘Now, I’ve got those details ready about the latest designs, and I’m happy to say it’s all coming on really well.’ As she spoke she was running an eye over the drawings that lay before her on the desk.

‘I didn’t know you were dating someone new.’ Jordan ignored her words and instead zoomed in on the very thing she wanted to gloss over.

She hesitated and for a moment contemplated lying to him as well, and then shrugged. What was the point in pretending?

‘I’m not.’ She didn’t glance up; instead she shuffled the papers in front of her, trying to get back to the work. ‘I want to talk to you about the budget for the new scheme—’

But Jordan wouldn’t let the subject go. ‘So why did you tell someone you were dating?’ he persisted, stopping her in her tracks.

‘Because…’ she leaned back in her chair, running a flustered hand through her long blonde hair. ‘Well, I suppose I didn’t want Melanie to know that the most exciting thing I’ve done recently is watch a rerun of Dallas and order a take-away pizza.’ The truth just popped out and she was surprised by his reaction because he seemed to relax somewhat, as if he found it terribly amusing.

‘Oh, I see.’

‘Not that I haven’t had offers, of course,’ she continued swiftly, feeling cross with herself for telling him that. ‘But I’ve just been too bogged down with all of this.’ She flicked the work in front of her derisively.

‘Yeah, I know you’ve been working very hard,’ he replied seriously.

Something about the way he looked at her set off a prickle of awareness inside that was deeply disturbing.

‘Anyway, I know I’m nearly over budget on the curtaining for these apartments.’ She returned the conversation very firmly to work. It wasn’t the first time he’d had that effect on her and she supposed it wouldn’t be the last. But it didn’t mean anything; it was because he was a predatory male, and she read the danger signals loud and clear.

‘But I want to use the more expensive sheer muslin for the front windows. I mean, what’s the point of building somewhere with fabulous views and then spoiling it with the window dressing? It’s like buying a fantastically expensive dress and teaming it with horrid shoes. Spoils the whole image.’ She looked up and fixed him with wide, fervent green eyes. ‘So can I up the budget?’

‘Again?’ His voice was dry. ‘What are you doing, gold-plating the whole apartment block?’

‘The windows will sell the place,’ Charlotte said firmly. ‘Women will walk into those apartments and fall in love with them at first sight.’

‘That’s what it takes, is it—good window dressing?’ Jordan grinned. ‘OK,’ he shrugged, ‘you’re the interior designer. I’ll go with your recommendation and I’ll up the budget.’

‘Great—’

‘On one condition.’ He cut across her.

‘What?’

‘Have dinner with me tonight.’

The invitation took her aback. She looked up into his hazel eyes and all sorts of warning bells rang. ‘I can’t, Jordan. I’m sorry, but I’ve far too much on.’

‘One evening won’t make much difference on the work schedule. And anyway, there are a few things I think we should talk about.’

She had been left unsure as to whether he was asking her out to discuss business or asking her out on a date.

Charlotte freeze-framed the memory now as she lay in bed. She was still unsure about that.

She stared at the ceiling and analysed that invitation. They’d eaten together a few times over the last year, usually business lunches, sometimes with her father, sometimes alone. They’d never ended up naked in bed together the next morning!

Jordan moved in the bed, rolling over onto his side so that he was facing her. For a moment she thought he was waking up and her nerves jangled alarmingly, her heart pumping as if she’d been running on the treadmill at the gym. He settled down and continued to sleep. She noticed how dark his hair was against the white of the pillow, and how the sheets had slipped from his shoulders, revealing a tanned torso that was enticingly muscled. Remembering how tenderly those strong arms had held her last night, she felt her stomach dip in another pang of alarm.

This was terrible. She didn’t want to think about what had actually transpired. She was going to have to get out of here, and fast, before he woke up. Because she couldn’t face him. The whole thing was mortifyingly embarrassing.

Slipping a foot out of the bed, she sidled across from beneath the covers, trying to ease herself out so as not to create a sound or a draught. She ended up on her hands and knees on his floor and there she crouched for a few moments, trying to get her breath back, casting her eyes frantically around for her clothes.

Even as she was kneeling there she registered the ridiculousness of the situation. She was a thirty-two-year-old businesswoman, for heaven’s sake—in fact, thirty-three in a few months’ time—and here she was, almost hiding under a man’s bed! She needed to be adult about this, she reasoned with herself. People had sex these days and they didn’t agonise about it, they just enjoyed it.

But the logical words didn’t cut much ice with her. Trouble was, she had never got with the modern programme—had never done the casual-sex bit. She needed to be in love with a man before she slept with him. All right, it was old-fashioned, but that was just how she was. So what had happened to change that last night?

She heard the bed creak as Jordan moved again. Her head shot up as she saw his hand dangling over the side, almost touching the top of her blonde curls. Any moment now he was going to lean over and ask her what she was doing crouching on his floor.

She waited for it, prepared to lie that she was looking for her contact lenses. But she didn’t wear contact lenses, and he probably knew that.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to stand up. She needn’t have worried—he was still asleep, this time sprawled over onto her side of the bed. Not that it was her bed, or her apartment. Darting a look around the room for her clothes, she could only see his shirt on a chair, so she picked it up and held it in front of her. At the same time Jordan’s hand seemed to be searching in the small space beside him, then he opened his eyes.

‘Hi.’ He smiled at her sleepily, then sat up slightly, his eyes moving over the long length of her legs to the shirt she held in front of her.

She, on the other hand, found her eyes drawn to his chest, which was broad and hairy and brought memories from last night trickling through her consciousness like red-hot lava.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked huskily.

She transferred her gaze quickly to his face to find his eyes resting on her with a kind of tender concern.

‘Of course I’m OK.’

He raked a hand through the thick darkness of his hair. ‘It’s just…well, I thought you were on the floor for a moment.’

‘I always start the day with a good crawl around on the bedroom floor.’ She hadn’t planned the sarcasm—it just slipped out. ‘It helps to tone the body.’

He smiled. ‘Your body doesn’t need much toning,’ he murmured, looking admiringly at the shapely long legs and the curves that were now hidden behind his shirt.

‘I was looking for my clothes, actually.’ Her voice seemed to have risen two octaves.

‘I think you’ll find them in the lounge, but what’s the hurry?’ He glanced at the illuminated numbers on his bedside clock. ‘It’s only early.’

How could he be so relaxed? As if this was nothing? Wasn’t he even the slightest bit embarrassed? OK, maybe he was used to waking up with different women in the morning, but they had to work together, for heaven’s sake!

Before she could reply the telephone on the other side of the bed rang. As he rolled over to answer it Charlotte glanced through the open bedroom door and caught sight of her clothes lying in a heap on the lounge floor. Thank heavens for phones, she thought as she hurriedly launched herself out through the door before he could turn around. Firmly she closed it behind her.

Never had she dressed as quickly in her whole life. Pants, stockings, skirt were all put on with record-breaking speed. Then, just as things were going so well, she couldn’t find her bra. She looked along the cream leather settee and lifted a few cushions, but still couldn’t find it. Hearing the phone go down in the other room, she gave up and instead threw her blouse on, buttoning it up with scant regard for anything other than the need to escape. Her bag was on the coffee-table, and the only thing hanging up was her coat out on a stand in the hallway. She practically flew to it, then out through the front door. Not waiting for the lifts, she ran down the stairs of the luxury apartment block as if being pursued by the devil himself.

It was only when she was outside in the cool darkness of the early-morning air that she realised she had no car. She had taken a taxi to meet Jordan at the restaurant last night and then they had walked back to his place.

She put her head down as it started to rain and turned towards the nearest underground station.

It was rush hour. Charlotte stood well to the right on an escalator that trundled slowly down into the bowels of the earth; a never-ending stream of people hurried past her, their shoulders brushing against hers, but she was barely aware of them. There was a constant thundering sound as trains sped through the passages below and a warm vortex of air spiralled upwards, blow-drying the rain from her blonde hair. Charlotte felt numb, as if she wasn’t really there.

How could she have done that? she kept asking herself. How could she?

A busker stood in one of the tunnels, his voice echoing eerily as he sang about how much love hurt. The sound was accompanied by the silvery clinking of the coins that people threw on the way past. Maybe, like her, they agreed with his sentiment. Charlotte dug deep in her pockets and added her coins to his collection.

She had found out from David just how much love could hurt.

Maybe that was the reason some people…like Jordan…abandoned the idea of love completely and chose to just concentrate on the physical side of things. She had never really agreed with that way of thinking before, but now…now she wasn’t sure how she felt about anything. Because buried away in the deepest recess of her mind was the knowledge that last night had been extremely pleasurable.

There was a train waiting on her platform and she raced towards it, just squeezing in before the automatic doors closed. She stood, hemmed in by the sheer volume of people, and grabbed at a handrail to steady herself as the train left the station. Then she closed her eyes and thought again back to last night.

She had insisted on meeting him at the restaurant. Somehow arriving under her own steam had made her feel more in control of the situation. It meant she would be able to leave when she wanted instead of having to wait for him. Charlotte liked to be independent.

They had started off talking about work. Jordan had made her laugh; he had a very dry, very witty sense of humour. She remembered a few women had cast envious eyes over towards their table and she had felt almost proud to be the one who was getting his undivided attention.

She realised now, that should have been her first warning signal.

‘So where is your girlfriend tonight?’ she had asked him when there was a pause in the conversation.

‘Benita and I split up a couple of weeks ago.’

‘Oh! I’m sorry.’

He shrugged. ‘These things happen—as you know. Have you seen anything of David recently?’

She shook her head. ‘I think he’s still in the States on business.’

‘Do you still have feelings for him?’

The intensely personal question took her aback and she hesitated, not knowing what to say.

‘According to your father, he was never right for you.’ Jordan filled the gap drily.

‘Has my father been discussing my private life with you?’ She was instantly annoyed.

‘Only in passing.’ He shrugged easily. ‘You went out with David for a long time, didn’t you.’

‘Two years. How long were you with Benita?’ Swiftly she changed the subject back in his direction.

Jordan frowned. ‘I don’t know; I’m not one for counting much any more.’

‘Any more?’

‘When I was married to Nadine I used to count anniversaries, important dates—you know, the usual kind of thing.’

His statement intrigued her. She had heard he had been divorced, but that was all, because Jordan was extremely aloof when it came to talking about his past. Charlotte had assumed, because he seemed such a womaniser, that he had ended the marriage. ‘It sounds as if you loved her very much.’

‘I did.’ His voice was heavy. ‘But it didn’t do me a lot of good. Sometimes loving someone isn’t enough.’

‘Well, she was obviously just the wrong person for you.’

He smiled at that. ‘You’re not going to go all Pollyanna-like on me, are you?’

‘No.’ She felt herself blushing and he smiled.

‘I’ve enjoyed tonight, Charlie; thank you.’

‘I’ve enjoyed it too.’ She was aware that she didn’t really want the evening to end.

Jordan took out his wallet to pay the bill and she fumbled for her handbag.

‘We’ll go Dutch,’ she said firmly.

‘Dutch?’ He stared at her as if she was speaking that language.

‘Yes. I like to pay my own way, thank you.’

His lips twisted in a wry curve. ‘Well you can pay next time,’ he said dismissively, putting his credit card on the silver salver. ‘How’s that?’

Before she could make a reply to that he had switched the subject. ‘Have you heard anything from your father recently?’

‘Not since Ruth rang to tell me they wouldn’t be coming home from France at the appointed time. Dad must really love it out there because it’s not like him to want to take extra time off work. You know what he’s like, a complete workaholic.’

‘And she didn’t say anything else?’

‘No. It was a very brief conversation, but then it always is with my stepmother. She’s usually in a hurry.’ Charlotte frowned. ‘Why?’

‘I just wondered.’ The waiter brought the counterfoil for him to sign. ‘You get on all right with Ruth, don’t you?’ he asked casually as he handed the piece of paper and the pen back.

‘Yes. She seems to make Dad happy.’ She paused and frowned. ‘Everything is all right with Dad, isn’t it? You have spoken to him since he’s been away?’

‘Of course.’ Jordan rose smoothly to his feet. ‘He is my business partner; he couldn’t be away for seven weeks without being in contact.’

He had put his hand at her back as they had walked out of the restaurant. It had just been a light touch but Charlotte had been extremely conscious of it.

The train jerked to a halt and her eyes flew open. It was her station; she struggled to step out, battling amongst the hordes getting in.

The April rain was cold against her skin as she emerged again onto the streets above. But her mind was still tuned into the night before. They had walked back towards his apartment and he had invited her in for coffee. ‘You may as well wait for a taxi in the comfort of my place,’ he had said easily.

So she had followed him up to the stylish penthouse apartment. She had never been to his home before, and it had felt different being somewhere with him that wasn’t work-related at all. It had made her suddenly self-conscious. And when he had reached to take her coat, she had felt more acutely aware of him than she had ever done.

As he disappeared through to the kitchen to make the coffee she had wandered around the lounge, admiring the décor. ‘Who did the interior design to this apartment?’ She called out the question to him through the open door.

‘I don’t know. I wasn’t particularly interested in interior designers until I met you.’

She smiled at the compliment. Then noticed a photograph of a little girl, about three years of age, with dark shiny hair and a mischievous grin.

‘Who is this?’ she asked as Jordan came back through to the lounge.

‘That’s my daughter, Natasha.’

‘I didn’t know you had a child! She looks adorable.’

‘Yes.’ He put the tray of coffee down on the table and then went over towards her. ‘She was adorable.’ He reached out a hand and took the photograph from her.

‘Was?’ Charlotte had a cold feeling inside as she heard the ominous tone in his voice and saw for a moment raw emotion in the darkness of his eyes.

‘She died almost two years ago.’

‘I’m so sorry, Jordan.’

She watched as he carefully put the photograph back where it had been. And in that instant she wanted to reach out to him, soothe the shadows from his face. Jordan was always so controlled, so confident; she had never seen that rawness of expression on his face before. Instinctively she reached up and touched him, trailing her fingers in a soft caress along the side of his cheek.

He caught her hand in his and then, as their eyes met, the unguarded emotion changed into something else, and he turned the hand to kiss the inside of her wrist. The gesture was totally unexpected and there was something extremely provocative and yet sensitive about it…something that made her insides turn over.

‘You look beautiful tonight,’ he murmured, and his eyes moved over her body in the softly flattering blue suit. ‘But then, you always look beautiful.’

She raised questioning eyes to his. There had always been some kind of turbulent chemistry between them; maybe subconsciously that was why she had always kept a distance from him. Because she knew he spelt danger. But now that feeling of danger was teamed with something else, something much more powerful. She felt it spiralling inside her like a spinning top, whipping around and around in her insides. And she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

He had reached out and touched her face the way she had his and the touch had been like a spark to a can of petrol because the next thing she remembered she had stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

She had made the first move.

Remembering that made her heart stand still.

After the initial moment of surprise he had kissed her back. And what a kiss that had been! Just thinking about it now made her insides clench with desire again. Jordan Lynch knew exactly the right way to kiss a woman. His lips had travelled over hers with a slow, seductive warmth that had been so deliriously wonderful it had made her toes curl.

As passion exploded quickly out of control, there had been a moment when Jordan had pulled back. ‘Are you sure about this?’ he had asked seriously.

She had smiled and reached to kiss him again.

Remembering that now made Charlotte’s skin burn.

Hurriedly she let herself into her flat and leaned back against the door. She was faced with her familiar, modern, perfectly designed home, but it felt different to her now. It was as if the person who had left here last night was not the same person who had returned. It was as if she didn’t know herself any more.

The phone rang on the hall table and her nerves jumped. Would that be Jordan? She didn’t answer it and after a few moments the answering machine clicked in.

‘Hi, sweetheart, it’s David. I hoped I’d catch you before you left for work. Look, I just wanted to tell you again how sorry I am. It was one night, honey, and it didn’t mean anything, not compared with my love for you. It was a mistake, a terrible mistake, a moment of insanity. Anyway…’ His voice trailed off, became more hopeless than eager. ‘I’m flying back to England tomorrow. I’ll call you then.’

The earnest, pleading voice touched the far recesses of her mind. Yesterday she wouldn’t have understood a moment of insanity, but yesterday she had been a sensible person and now…now she didn’t know what the hell she was doing any more.

## CHAPTER TWO

HIS timing was wrong. Jordan knew that, he’d known it last night but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He disliked himself intensely for the weakness. Yet perversely he didn’t regret it. Charlotte had been everything he’d dreamed she’d be; passionate, warm…it had been intensely pleasurable. How could he regret that?

He reached for his briefcase and climbed out of his car. When should he tell her? he wondered. Today wouldn’t be right, not now. He was grimly aware that he was putting off the inevitable again. Charlotte was going to find out, and sooner rather than later, whether he told her or not. It was better that she heard it directly from him and not through a third party. But not today.

The sky was a heavily leaden grey. It was reflected in the choppy waters of the River Thames and the modern glass building that was the central administrative centre for McCann Developments.

Charlotte’s grandfather, George McCann, had started the business years before. He was a builder who had worked his way up from small beginnings to create a successful development firm of good repute. Charlotte’s father, Simon, had taken over the running of the place twenty-five years ago and things had ticked along fairly well until they had hit the recession five years ago, leading to dwindling profits and eventually the necessity of taking on Jordan as a partner.

Being the newcomer on the block hadn’t been as easy as Jordan had anticipated. But he was a talented architect and an experienced businessman with a nose for a good deal. He’d been here for just over a year and already the profits were up. Along the way he’d had to make a few changes to streamline the running of the place, and he knew that even more changes were necessary if the business was to thrive.

His thoughts went to Simon McCann. He admired him and the business was sound. That was the reason he had invested in it in the first place, but just recently he had noticed a change in Simon. He had become reluctant to look at new designs that were essential for them to keep ahead of the opposition. It was almost as if he had lost his enthusiasm. And it was becoming more apparent that if Jordan was to make any real inroads into the success of the business he would need to have the casting vote.

It was coming to crunch time, when he might be forced to get Simon to sell his share of the business to give him overall control, and he didn’t think Charlotte would be too happy about that.

Added to all of that there was the matter of the missing money.

‘Morning, Jordan.’ His secretary paused to wait for him by the lifts in the front lobby.

‘Morning, Laura.’ He smiled back at the attractive brunette, but in truth his mind was skipping ahead to his meeting with Charlotte. Wondering how he should play things after last night.

His eyes were drawn to the brass plaque in the lift, with the name McCann Developments. He wondered how Charlotte would feel if the business ceased to be a family affair. Somehow, he thought she wouldn’t be too pleased.

Charlotte had started work here six years ago and was in charge of the interior-design side of the business. When Jordan first met her he had found her a bit prickly—had thought that she was probably a spoilt little rich girl who had got a job here purely through nepotism.

In reality he couldn’t have been further from the truth. He had discovered she was an exceptionally talented designer who worked extremely hard and had once owned her own successful interior-design business. Her father had persuaded her to join the family company by promising her much bigger and more lucrative projects. As well as designing the interior of their show houses she ran an after-sales service for customers who wanted their homes bringing up to the same high standards. This was proving so successful that they’d had to expand the company’s design section.

No, somehow he couldn’t see Charlotte being pleased if her father was to leave the business.

As soon as he stepped out onto the top floor of the office he saw that she was already seated at her desk. He’d half wondered if she would be late this morning. Then he smiled to himself. He should have known better. Charlotte was always in her office bright and early, no matter what. She was a dedicated career girl.

He took a moment to study her now. She seemed completely engrossed in the papers in front of her. Her long blonde hair was piled up on top of her head, exposing the creamy length of her neck. As usual she was dressed in a smart, businesslike black trouser suit, with a white blouse open at the neck. She had a great figure—he allowed himself to remember her soft curves and the long, shapely legs and found himself wanting her all over again. Not a good start, he warned himself with annoyance. He was going to have to play this very carefully.

She glanced up and their eyes collided briefly. Only the pallor of her skin and the faint shadows under her green eyes gave away the fact that she wasn’t entirely at ease. She gave him a brief smile then returned her attention to her work.

Charlotte cursed herself as she fixed her eyes on her papers. Maybe she shouldn’t have smiled? She had been telling herself all morning that she should just act like normal—but what was normal? She couldn’t seem to remember how she usually behaved around Jordan. It was all muddled up in her mind now with memories of red-hot passion last night. Concentrate on work, she told herself fiercely.

At least her designs were taking good shape, she thought, running a critical eye over them. Sometimes it seemed as if she did her best work when she was under duress—maybe because she used work like an escape valve. When she entered her world of interior design she could shut the door on everything and everyone else. Jordan was a bit like that as well; they had remarked long ago that when it came to work they were remarkably similar, both totally dedicated. Which was probably the reason they had worked so well together lately.

Had she jeopardised that last night? Right at this moment Charlotte doubted very much that she could even pretend to be relaxed around him again.

The door of her office opened and she was aware of his dark eyes raking over her even before she glanced up. She held herself very straight, as if she was completely at ease and in control of the situation, and gave him a brief smile. ‘Hi, Jordan. You’re late—the accountant will be in soon and we have those figures to sort out.’ She was pleased at how confident she sounded.

‘Of course I’m late.’ He put down his briefcase and came around to perch on the edge of her desk.

Couldn’t he just use the seat opposite like any other normal person? Charlotte wondered nervously. She felt at enough of a disadvantage this morning without him looming over her like some kind of bird of prey.

‘Some feisty young woman kept me very busy last night.’ His voice was softly teasing.

She felt her skin glow with vivid colour.

There was a moment’s silence, a moment where he waited for her to say something. When she didn’t his eyes moved with thorough gentleness over her upturned face, taking in the colour on her high cheekbones, the softness of her lips. ‘Why did you rush off like that this morning?’ he asked.

She leaned further back in her chair, trying to feign an indifference that she just didn’t feel. ‘Last night was…pleasant, Jordan—’

‘Yes, it was,’ Jordan agreed, a wry gleam in his eyes. ‘Very pleasant.’

‘But we’ve got to work together and I don’t think we should complicate things.’

‘Who said anything about complicating things?’ Jordan shrugged. ‘I’m all for keeping things simple.’

She nodded. ‘Of course.’ She had never for one moment thought that he would read anything serious into last night. ‘Look, I’ll be honest with you, I’m feeling a bit awkward.’ She tried desperately to hold his gaze but failed miserably and had to look away. ‘I’m hoping we can put this…incident behind us and forget about it, go back to the way things used to be.’

Jordan reached out a hand and tipped her chin upwards so that she was forced to meet his eyes. ‘Do you feel guilty about last night because you are still in love with David?’ He asked the question quietly.

The question and the touch of his hand against her skin brought a very heated response coursing through her veins. ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business, Jordan,’ she snapped, pulling away from him.

He shrugged. ‘Well, if you are still holding a torch for David, you’re making a big mistake. The guy is a loser.’

‘And I really don’t need your analysis of David, thank you. You’re hardly a model of perfection where women are concerned yourself.’

Jordan smiled at that. ‘You weren’t complaining last night,’ he said teasingly and watched the even brighter flare of colour in her cheeks.

‘You see! This is exactly why last night was such a mistake,’ she spluttered indignantly. ‘I can’t have you reminding me about it every two minutes we have to work together.’

‘I’m not reminding you about it every two minutes; we were discussing the implications of last night before moving on to the day’s work, like a couple of grown-ups—remember?’

‘Don’t get smart with me, Jordan. There are no implications from last night; it was just two people enjoying a bit of light-hearted fun. So let’s just forget about it and move on. OK?’

‘Fine with me.’ Jordan shrugged.

‘Good.’ She picked up some papers that were sitting beside her. ‘Those are for you; they are the estimates for the soft furnishings.’

‘Great, thanks.’ His voice was dry. ‘I’ll look through them and get back to you.’

‘Good idea.’

‘And I’ve got something for you.’ He opened his briefcase. She thought he was going to pass her some papers that he wanted her to look at. Instead he took out a folded black lacy bra and put it on her desk. ‘It was on the floor in the lounge.’

Mortified beyond belief, Charlotte grabbed it and stuck it in the top drawer of her desk. ‘What are you thinking of?’ she said shakily, glancing around through the glass walls to see if any of her co-workers had noticed. Her office made her feel a bit like she worked in a goldfish bowl—everyone could see what she was doing.

‘Well, I was thinking that you might just be missing your bra,’ he said with a smile.

‘I’ve got to work here, Jordan! I don’t want everyone knowing that I’ve had a moment’s insanity with the boss.’

‘Charlotte, they’d have to have bionic vision to see what that tiny scrap of material is,’ he said with a shake of his head. ‘Relax, for heaven’s sake.’ Before she realised his intention he reached out and tipped her chin up so that she was forced to meet his eyes.

‘And as moments of insanity go it was very, very pleasant,’ he murmured huskily, his eyes moving towards her lips.

Then he released her and walked out of her office. Her heart was thumping. She felt sick inside with the knowledge that she had just handled that situation appallingly. Maybe she should just have laughed the whole thing off instead of acting so uptight?

Breathing deeply to release the tension inside, Charlotte tried very hard to think straight. But her mind was a jumbled mess of words and feelings she couldn’t get a handle on. In desperation she reached for the phone and dialled her sister’s number.

The answering machine came on and she was just about to hang up in complete frustration when Jennifer answered, sounding a bit breathless.

‘Oh, hi, sis. Sorry, I was just attending to Matilda here. She won’t stop crying.’

In the background Charlotte could hear her four-week-old niece giving full vent to her lungs. ‘Sorry, I’ve obviously caught you at a bad time. I’ll ring back later.’

‘No, no, it’s OK,’ Jennifer assured her hastily. ‘What’s the matter?’

Charlotte smiled to herself. Jennifer was her younger sister by five years but they were very close. ‘You know me so well,’ she murmured.

‘I know that tone in your voice, if that’s what you mean.’ Jennifer was shushing her baby and Charlotte could hear her picking her up, could imagine the scene as she wedged a phone on one shoulder whilst holding a wriggling infant on the other.

‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I’m not coping with anything at the moment, and my emotions are all over the place.’

‘Well, I think that’s pretty normal given the circumstances with you and David. You have been dating him for a long time; you’re bound to be upset. You should have taken time off work—’

‘Jen, I did something terrible last night.’ She cut across her sister, swiftly needing to unburden herself. ‘I slept with Jordan.’

There was a deathly silence at the other end of the phone. Even Matilda had gone quiet.

‘Crikey, Charlie!’

‘I know!’ Charlotte flicked a glance through the glass partition and saw Jordan’s secretary laughing with him. He looked incredibly relaxed and for some reason that made Charlotte feel even more on edge. ‘I don’t know what happened! One moment I was going to have coffee with him and the next we were in bed.’

Jennifer laughed.

‘It’s not funny.’

‘No, but it’s not that terrible either! To be honest, I’ve always secretly thought that Jordan would be perfect for you. Dad thinks so too. In fact he was saying not so long ago how well you two work together now and what a blessing he has you both at the business. And Jordan is so nice and so good-looking—’

‘Oh, come on!’ Charlotte cut in drily. ‘Don’t start taking artistic licence. The only thing Dad would say is that Jordan makes lots of money for the company. Dad is a businessman first and foremost.’

‘No, he’s not. He’s a big softie really, and he’ll be pleased you’re having a relationship with Jordan.’

‘We’re not having a relationship—it was sex!’

‘Well, a relationship has to start somewhere. Why not in bed? At least you’ve sampled the goods and found them in working order.’ Jennifer giggled. ‘I’m so pleased. If nothing else, you needed someone to take your mind off David.’

Jordan had certainly done that, Charlotte thought wryly.

‘Listen, why don’t the two of you come for Sunday dinner?’ Jennifer said excitedly.

‘I don’t think you’ve been listening to me, Jen. We’re not dating. In fact, we’re barely being civil to each other this morning. And besides, you know what he’s like where women are concerned—I’ll be just another notch on his bedpost.’

‘Not necessarily; you could be special.’

‘And the world could be flat,’ Charlotte drawled. ‘Anyway, it’s too close for comfort. I’ve got to work with the guy and I don’t want the complications; I’ve enough problems. I don’t know what the hell possessed me.’

‘I do—he’s gorgeous!’ Jennifer giggled again. ‘All right, well, you just come for dinner then. I’d better go. Madam here has just been sick down my blouse. See you Sunday.’

‘See you Sunday.’ Charlotte was speaking to a dead phone line now. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that Jennifer would be pro-Jordan. She’d been singing his praises since he had joined the company, and her husband, Steve, had got very friendly with him. Even though they lived just outside London in quite a rural area, Jordan was often over at their house. In fact it was through her sister that Charlotte got to hear snippets of information about Jordan’s girlfriends.

It was a wonder Jennifer didn’t know about the fact he had once had a daughter. But she definitely didn’t, otherwise Charlotte would have heard about it. Obviously it was just too painful a subject for Jordan to talk about, which was understandable.

She glanced down at the designs in front of her, but her mind was flicking over Jennifer’s words.

I’ve always secretly thought that Jordan would be perfect for you. Dad thinks so too.

Where had that come from? Jennifer had never said that to her before. And as for her father, he would think anyone was good for her as long as it wasn’t David. He really disliked David, and that was before he had heard of their break-up.

But Jen was wrong. Romantically speaking, Jordan wasn’t her type. He was too sure of himself, arrogant even. But then she remembered last night and the way he had made her laugh at dinner…the way he had looked so raw when he had spoken of his little girl…the way he had kissed the inside of her wrist… Why had that kiss been so erotic? she wondered. She had never thought of the wrist being an erogenous zone before.

She frowned. All right, maybe last night Jordan had sort of grown on her a bit. But not romantically, definitely not romantically; Jennifer was wrong about that. The sex had been wonderful though.

Charlotte scored a line through the piece of paper in front of her. She had to work with the guy, she told herself fiercely. Remembering things like that wasn’t helpful.

She looked over at him again; he was signing something now and he gave Laura a boyish smile that for some reason had a funny effect on Charlotte’s loins. He was basically a nice man. Obviously he had loved his wife, and his little girl. Whatever was going on in his life now, he’d certainly been through a tough time in the past.

Maybe she should apologise for being a bit sharp this morning. They had both enjoyed last night. She should have acted in a more mature way about it all.

She watched as Laura left his office. He was talking to someone on the phone now. If she was going to apologise, now was probably the time to go over, whilst his secretary was out. She didn’t want the whole building knowing that she was Jordan’s latest conquest. That would be too humiliating.

Before her courage could desert her she got up and went across to his office. They never knocked on each other’s doors, so Charlotte didn’t think twice about just walking in on him. He was sitting with his back to her, having swivelled around in his leather chair, and he was still talking on the phone.

‘We went out for dinner,’ he was saying. ‘Then I invited her back to my place for coffee.’ He laughed, a deep, husky, teasing kind of laugh. ‘OK, what can I say? I’m weak, yeah…that’s right, I got sidetracked. Not one of my better moves. But it was very enjoyable.’

Charlotte’s blood started to freeze in her veins as she realised he was talking about her.

Her first instinct was to get out of the room before he saw that she was there. She certainly wasn’t going to apologise to him now. Hurriedly she started to back away, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. How dared he? she thought as she stormed back to her office. Not one of his better moves, indeed! He could say that again!

She sat back down at her desk and glared at the back of his head through the plate glass. How dared he discuss her like that…and who had he been talking to? She hoped it wasn’t someone they worked with—if this got out in the office everyone would be gossiping about her.

She burned with the indignity of it all. She had always been an intensely private person. And she had always prided herself on being in control of her emotions. Now her personal life was being bandied around for all and sundry to know, and she certainly wasn’t in control of her emotions because at this moment she really thought she hated Jordan Lynch.

His chair swivelled around suddenly and their eyes locked through the glass. Hers simmered with intense anger, his were coolly unperturbed.

Swiftly she lowered her head and returned her attention to her work. That was it; she would have nothing more to do with Jordan Lynch, she told herself fiercely.

## CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS Sunday afternoon, the sky was a clear blue but the breeze that stirred the trees, sending showers of cherry blossom fluttering onto the front lawns, was ice-cold. It felt more like March than the first day of May, Charlotte thought as she pulled up outside the tall Victorian detached house where Jennifer and Steven lived.

She parked her car on the road and walked into the driveway past her sister’s people carrier, Steve’s convertible and Harriet’s bicycle, which had been abandoned at right angles by the front door in a strategically placed booby trap.

Smiling to herself, Charlotte stepped over it and in through the front door, which had been left ajar.

The first thing that hit her was the smell of roast beef wafting through from the kitchen; the second was the discordant sound of Harriet practising her scales on the piano in the lounge.

‘Hello,’ Charlotte called out. Immediately the playing stopped and her six-year-old niece came flying out, feet thundering on the polished wooden floors, blonde pigtails bouncing as she flung herself at Charlotte like a whirling dervish.

‘Auntie Charlie!’ she screeched with delight as Charlotte picked her up and whirled her around. ‘Guess what…guess what?’

‘What?’ Charlotte hugged her tight and then put her down.

‘Uncle Jordan is here as well.’

‘Oh.’ The moment of happiness inside Charlotte faded as she looked up and saw Jordan framed in the kitchen doorway, watching the welcome she had received. Charlotte was used to seeing Jordan dressed in suits but today he was wearing jeans and an open-necked blue shirt. The casual look suited him, made him look younger than his thirty-eight years, and even sexier than usual, if that was possible. She dragged her gaze away from him, annoyed for thinking along those lines.

‘Hello, Jordan.’ She was aware that her voice was very cool, but she couldn’t help it. She had been looking forward to a relaxing dinner with her family, away from her problems, especially the problem of Jordan. ‘What are you doing here?’ Even as she asked the question she knew the answer.

‘Jennifer invited me over for lunch.’

She hoped to high heaven he didn’t think she’d put Jen up to it! Jordan Lynch didn’t need his ego boosting any further—it was already off the scale.

‘That was nice of her.’ There was a definite edge to Charlotte’s tone now.

He smiled, totally unperturbed. ‘Yes, I thought so too.’

Charlotte took off her beige suede jacket and slung it over the end of the banisters. She was going to kill her sister.

‘Where is Jen?’

‘On the phone, trying to dig Steve out of the golf club. He went for a quick game and apparently should have been home over an hour ago.’

Charlotte smiled. That sounded like Steve. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t join him.’

Jordan shrugged. ‘I had to go into the office today to sort out some paperwork.’

For the first time Charlotte realised just how much extra work Jordan had on his desk with her father staying on in France all this time. ‘If you need some help with paper-work I don’t mind giving you a hand,’ she offered impulsively. ‘I know I’m more on the design side than office management, but I can do both. I did run my own business once.’

‘Yes, I know.’ He smiled at her. ‘Thanks, I’ll bear that in mind.’

Something about the way he smiled at her made her go hot inside. Hurriedly she glanced away. Then, catching her niece’s eye, she remembered she had some sweets for her in her jacket pocket. She took them out and passed them to the little girl.

‘Thanks!’ Harriet’s eyes lit up. ‘These are my favourites. And look what Uncle Jordan brought.’ She raced into the lounge and came back with a rag doll in one hand and a teddy in the other. ‘This is for me, and this…’ she brandished the teddy ‘…is for Matilda.’

‘How lovely.’ Charlotte smiled. ‘I hope you said a big thank-you to Uncle Jordan.’

Harriet nodded. ‘He’s a lovely uncle.’ She said the words with a seriousness that sounded very grown-up for a six-year-old.

Charlotte laughed and glanced over at Jordan with amusement.

‘It’s official, I’m a lovely uncle.’ He nodded, humour also sparkling in his dark eyes. ‘Even if it is only an honorary title.’

Maybe he was a bit of a rat when it came to love, but you couldn’t help but like the guy, Charlotte thought. ‘Well, it was very kind of you.’

As she made to follow him into the kitchen she noticed the gleam of male interest that took in her close-fitting beige leather trousers and cream jumper. It was as if he could see straight through to the scanty underwear beneath and, shockingly, it made her body leap in a response that was purely sexual as she remembered the wild passion they had shared on Thursday night.

Instantly she was annoyed with herself, and annoyed with him for looking at her like that. Would their night together never be forgotten? She had the horrible feeling that it was going to haunt the rest of their working relationship. Remembering the way he had talked about her on the phone, she cringed inwardly. She’d been such a fool.

Matilda was in her carry-cot by the French doors, and, glad of the diversion, Charlotte went across to peep into the lacy crib. She expected the baby to be asleep, she was so quiet, and got quite a surprise when Matilda turned big blue eyes up at her and seemed to smile.

‘Hello, darling,’ Charlotte cooed and touched one of the tiny hands that rested on the counterpane. ‘Hello.’

Jennifer was so lucky, Charlotte thought, so incredibly lucky to have two such gorgeous children.

‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ Jordan asked from the other end of the kitchen. ‘I opened a bottle of Chablis a little while ago.’

‘Thanks.’ Charlotte glanced down the modern white kitchen. He seemed very much at home here, she thought as she watched him open up the fridge and pour her the wine.

‘Won’t be a minute, Charlotte,’ Jennifer called down the stairs. ‘They are sending search parties out to find Steve at the golf club—he’s going to be dead meat when he gets home.’

Charlotte laughed. ‘Leave him alone, you bully,’ she called back.

‘No chance. Harriet, I can’t hear you practising your scales.’

The little girl pulled a face at her mother’s words but dutifully disappeared back towards the lounge to resume her discordant serenade.

‘Married bliss, eh?’ Jordan smiled as he brought her drink over and put it down on the table next to her. She almost smiled back at him, and then stopped herself. She really was going to have to keep a cool distance from Jordan. OK, he had notched her up on his bedpost, but he needn’t think she was a pushover.

‘I hope you don’t think that I asked Jen to invite you here today,’ she told him bluntly as she sat down. ‘Because I didn’t.’

‘The thought hadn’t occurred to me. I’m often here.’

‘So I believe.’

He took out one of the wrought-iron chairs from the kitchen table and put it down to sit facing her.

‘Can we go back to being friends, Charlie?’ he asked quietly.

She noticed how his knees were almost touching hers. Her eyes rested on his hands, which were large and capable-looking. She remembered how they had felt against her body, caressing her to a fever pitch of desire. Remembered how she had writhed and moaned and kissed him with a hunger that she had never known before.

‘Charlie?’ he prompted.

‘Of course,’ she replied quickly.

She looked at him and her eyes shimmered intensely green. But had they ever been just friends? she wondered suddenly. She had always been so acutely aware of him, always intensely careful to keep a distance. And with good reason, she realised now.

Charlotte’s words didn’t convince Jordan. It was as if she had just rolled down steel shutters on herself.

‘You could have fooled me,’ he said steadily. ‘Since our evening together there’s an occasional chill coming off you that feels as if it could be rolling in from Antarctica.’

‘Is there?’ She frowned. ‘Well, I’m sorry if that’s the case. I really don’t want to jeopardise our working relationship.’

She noticed how his lips twisted drily at those words. ‘No, neither do I.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘We need to stick together, Charlie, because we have a lot of…stuff to get through over the next few weeks.’

‘You mean with Dad being away and it being so busy in the office?’

‘Sort of…’ Jordan hesitated. ‘I think you should know that I offered to buy your father’s share of the business from him a while ago.’

Instantly Charlotte felt apprehensive. Her father was her only safety barrier between herself and Jordan. And after their night together she needed that protection more than ever.

He watched her reaction carefully as he spoke and saw the concern in her eyes. ‘He turned down my offer.’

‘Oh…’ There was relief in her look now. ‘Well, you can’t blame him, Jordan. The business has been in our family for two generations.’

‘And family is very important to the McCanns.’

‘Yes.’ She shrugged. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?’

‘No, and I can understand your sentiments. Obviously you want to take over a share of the running of the company one day, and so you should. You’ve worked very hard to make the interior-design division a success.’

‘Why do I sense that the word “but” is going to creep into this?’ Charlotte reached for her glass of wine.

‘I don’t think your father can afford to turn down my offer,’ Jordan said bluntly.

‘Why ever not?’ She laughed at the absurdity of that remark. ‘He’s a wealthy man. He can afford to do whatever he likes.’

Jordan looked thoughtful. ‘But it isn’t only down to money. He has become forgetful and his business judgement isn’t as sharp as it has been in the past. I know he lost a lot of money on shares last year and…’ He hesitated and lowered his voice. ‘I really haven’t wanted to tell you this, Charlotte, but I feel I must. The auditors did a spot check and there is a substantial amount of money missing from the company accounts.’

It took a moment for what he was saying to sink in. ‘Are you saying my father is stealing from the company?’ Her words trembled alarmingly.

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘You might as well have!’ She cut across him. ‘My father is an honourable man—how can you suggest such a thing?’ She glared at him.

‘I’m just being honest with you, so there’s no point being angry.’ Jordan’s voice was calm. ‘If it makes you feel any better, I think your father is innocent and that Ruth is the culprit. I have a feeling she has taken the money without your father’s knowledge.’

‘This is preposterous.’ Charlotte shook her head. ‘Why would Ruth take money from the company?’

‘I don’t know. But I got a phone call from her last week and she was very agitated. At first I couldn’t make out what she was talking about. She was babbling on about the accounts and money but before she could explain she got cut off.’

Charlotte stared at him in distress. And a prickle of unease crept in to disturb her certainty. Her father had only been married to Ruth for two years and Charlotte had worried about the match at first, but her only concern had been their age difference. Her father was nearly sixty; Ruth was forty-six. However, they seemed so ideally happy together that Charlotte had stopped thinking about age as an issue at all. And she had grown extremely fond of Ruth. ‘I can’t imagine for one moment that Ruth would dip into company funds.’

‘Well, I’ve given the matter serious thought since the phone call,’ Jordan said. ‘And Ruth used to work in the accounts department, didn’t she?’

Charlotte nodded.

‘So she knows her way around the systems very well.’

‘I still can’t believe she would do such a thing,’ Charlotte said firmly. ‘Apart from anything else, Dad is a wealthy man. She wouldn’t need to do it.’

‘Well, the money is definitely missing. And, reading between the lines, that’s how it looks to me—’

‘There must be something more to this, something we don’t know.’ Charlotte’s voice was emphatic.

‘Don’t you think it speaks volumes that they haven’t come back from France?’ he asked quietly. ‘And since discovering the money has gone, I haven’t been able to make contact with them.’

Charlotte had to admit that was a bit odd. Her father was such a workaholic; he loved the office. But she had thought that Ruth was making him take an extra-long break. In fact she had even secretly applauded Ruth for the action, because her father had looked so tired before he left. But now…

‘How much money are we talking about?’ she asked curiously.

‘It’s not the amount of money that’s the problem, it’s the implication. These are serious charges; if they were to be made public the scandal could ruin the good reputation of the business. I’m sorry, Charlie…really I am.’ He reached to touch her but she flinched away.

Then, unable to bear his close proximity a moment longer, she got up from her chair to stand with her back to him, staring out of the windows.

‘Look, the situation can be salvaged, but it will have to be done fast. If your father can’t afford to pay the money back, then we can come to an agreement. I can afford to pay the debt and in return your father can transfer the equivalent shares in the business over to me, giving me overall control of the company.’

The calm, businesslike words made a wave of anger rise in Charlotte. He had it all sorted out in his mind by the sound of it. ‘How convenient for you,’ she murmured. ‘You’ve wanted control of the business from the moment you walked in, haven’t you?’

‘That’s not fair, Charlie.’

‘But it’s true.’ She stared sightlessly at the tulips that danced in the breeze at the end of the garden. ‘You’re ambitious…and you like power.’

When he didn’t answer she turned around to look at him. He got up from his chair and came towards her. ‘There is nothing wrong with being ambitious,’ he said softly. ‘You are too, otherwise you wouldn’t be so good at your job.’

When she didn’t reply he stepped closer. ‘You are not so different from me, Charlotte McCann.’

‘I think we are very different,’ she replied steadily. ‘I’m worried about my father. Whilst you are worrying about getting control of the business.’

‘I’m worried about the future of the business and that’s a different thing. I told you this affects us all and it could be serious.’ He looked very cold now and very hard. ‘And I’ll have to be honest with you, Charlotte. Your father hasn’t been his usual self these last six months. And I can’t have a business partner that I can’t rely on.’

She flinched at that. Jordan Lynch was a businessman first and foremost, she thought. The business side of her could see exactly where he was coming from. But the emotional side, the side that remembered that he had been her father’s friend, was having severe difficulty in accepting those words.

‘But you will allow time to sort this out, Jordan—if Ruth has taken the money you will give them time to pay it back?’

Jordan didn’t answer her straight away and the serious look in his eyes made her heart jump. ‘I don’t think I can. I need control of the company now.’

She felt sick suddenly.

‘And I’ll need your help.’ Jordan’s voice was decisive. ‘I can’t contact your father on his mobile phone and I don’t know exactly where he is in France. You are going to have to help me track him down, perhaps speak to him for me. Because we can’t go on like this.’

Charlotte felt her heart thumping against her breast so forcefully that it was painful. ‘I’m sure this is all just some terrible mistake,’ she murmured brokenly.

Jordan came closer to her. ‘But you’ll help me to sort it out?’

She hesitated for a second and then nodded.

‘Thanks. Try not to worry too much about it.’ The softness of his voice and the closeness of his body were sending very conflicting signals through her now. He had been so cold and businesslike when he had spoken about her father, and that made her angry, but weaving its way insidiously through that anger was the memory of how tenderly and passionately he had held her the other night and it made her want to fold into his arms. She despised herself for the momentary weakness and yet perversely the feeling lingered.

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs and Jordan reached out a hand and took hold of her arm. ‘Don’t mention any of this to Jennifer,’ he told her. ‘I know you tell each other everything, but this is one thing you need to keep to yourself. She’s just had a baby, and Steve is already a bit worried about her.’

‘I know that.’ Charlotte frowned. She was well aware of the fact that Jen had enough to cope with. She was just surprised that Jordan had the sensitivity to realise it.

When Jennifer came through the doorway Charlotte could tell instantly that she flew to all the wrong conclusions when she saw them standing so closely together. Her face lit up in a brilliant smile that shone from her gentle blue eyes.

‘Hi, sis; did you find Steve eventually?’ Charlotte moved hastily away from Jordan and went to kiss her sister on the cheek.

Jennifer and Charlotte were not unalike; they both had the same blonde hair that was inclined to curliness, only Jennifer’s was cut in a short style that suited her delicate features. She’d lost a bit of weight, Charlotte noticed, because she was already back in the jeans she had been wearing before becoming pregnant. That wasn’t so good. They had to keep an eye on Jennifer because she had suffered from anorexia as a teenager and she was still prone to bouts of worrying about her weight. But they never talked too much about that—she had recovered and they wanted to keep it that way.

‘Yes, he’s on his way home in a taxi.’ Jennifer’s eyes darted from her to Jordan speculatively. ‘You two seemed very deep in conversation. Everything all right?’

‘Oh, yes, fine.’ Charlotte lied airily.

‘Great.’ Jennifer gave a satisfied smile and suddenly Charlotte had the distinct impression that Steve’s disappearance to the golf club and her non-appearance for so long had all been an elaborate charade to throw them together. And obviously Jen believed it had worked.

‘Right, well, I’ll see to dinner. Steve will be here in a minute and he’ll be starving.’

‘I’ll give you a hand,’ Charlotte said, following her sister to the other end of the kitchen.

‘So how are things at the office?’ Jen asked conversationally as she took an enormous roast of beef out of the oven.

‘Busy as usual.’ Jordan was the one to answer.

‘I’m surprised Dad has stayed away so long. I reckon Ruth must be good for him. Usually he’d be frothing at the mouth to get back to his desk.’

Half an hour ago Charlotte would have laughed and agreed. Now her eyes met with Jordan’s and she felt the weight of what he had just told her press down on her.

They were saved from having to reply to that because Matilda started to cry.

As Jennifer was busy seeing to the vegetables and Charlotte was making the gravy, Jordan stood up. ‘Would you like me to see to her?’ he asked.

‘If you wouldn’t mind?’ Jen nodded.

‘I’ll come through in a minute,’ Charlotte told him, wondering if he could cope, but she needn’t have worried. When she glanced down the room she saw that he was cradling the child on his shoulder, gently rubbing her back.

‘There, there, honey, that’s a big noise for a little girl, isn’t it?’ he murmured.

And this was the same man who had been so cold and businesslike just a few moments ago? Charlotte thought. He seemed so warmly at ease now and he was so good with the baby. Considering Matilda was so tiny and fragile against the large hands that held her, he didn’t seem the slightest bit awkward. After a moment she gave a little hiccup and the crying stopped.

‘That’s better,’ Jordan soothed, and went to put her back down again. A few minutes later they could hear him talking to Harriet as she banged away on the keyboard.

‘Isn’t he wonderful?’ Jen grinned at Charlotte.

She wouldn’t think he was so wonderful if she knew what he had just been saying about their dad, Charlotte thought grimly. ‘I think you can leave the matchmaking bit out, Jen,’ she said.

But Jennifer was undeterred. ‘Bet you’re glad I invited him now, aren’t you?’ she said smugly. ‘I can see how things are between you two. If I’d waited a couple more seconds you’d have been in a passionate clinch. Wait until Dad hears—he’ll be thrilled.’

Charlotte wanted to say that it wasn’t how it looked, but refrained in case Jen started to question her too deeply. ‘Have you heard anything from Dad?’ she asked casually instead.

‘No. I really miss him, Charlie. I can’t even reach him on his cell-phone because it’s switched off.’ She pulled a face. ‘I hate not being able to talk to him; ridiculous, isn’t it…?’ She trailed off and smiled.

They heard the slam of the front door and Steve’s voice shouting that he was home.

‘About time too,’ Jen called back and then grinned at Charlotte.

‘You’re not cross with him at all,’ Charlotte said, glad that the subject was changed. ‘And if you are thinking of starting a career in matchmaking I’d give it a miss, if I were you. You’re lousy at it. For the record, Jordan and I are just good friends.’

‘That’s what I used to say about Steve.’

There wasn’t much time to talk after that. Charlotte busied herself assisting with the dinner, glad to have something to help take her mind off her father. But once they were seated at the dining table she started to think about him again. And, delicious as the food was, it seemed to stick in her throat.

She kept remembering other happy occasions when they had sat at this table with her father.

Steve was talking about his engineering business, but Charlotte was thinking that they had been sitting here when their father had announced he was getting married again.

‘I’ve met the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with,’ he had announced. It had been such an emotional and happy moment and they had all really wanted this marriage to work out for him.

Jordan had to be wrong about Ruth, he just had to be, she thought fiercely.

As if he could read her thoughts Jordan’s eyes locked with hers across the table. He seemed to be watching her very intently.

Suddenly she remembered the way he had questioned her about her father when they were out for dinner. Was that why he had asked her out in the first place? If so, it made what had happened later even more excruciatingly hard to think about without breaking into a cold sweat.

‘You’re very quiet, Charlie,’ Jennifer remarked suddenly.

‘Am I?’ Conscious of everyone’s eyes suddenly on her, Charlotte felt herself colouring guiltily. ‘Sorry, I was just relaxing.’

‘Charlotte’s been working far too hard,’ Jordan cut in. ‘You’re probably tired, aren’t you, Charlie.’

‘Probably.’ Charlotte glared at him; she could speak for herself.

Jennifer shook her head. ‘Honestly, sis, you’re just like Dad where that business is concerned. I know it’s very important to you, but you need to let up—take advantage of the fact you’ve got Jordan at the helm now and relax a bit.’

Charlotte studiously avoided Jordan’s eyes. ‘Yes, you’re right,’ she murmured.

Steve lifted the wine bottle and made to refill her glass. ‘Oh, I can’t have another drink, Steve, I’m driving.’ She hurriedly put her hand over the glass.

‘I’ll drive you home, Charlotte.’ Jordan’s voice was firm, making more like a command than an offer.

After a moment’s hesitation she lifted her hand. She needed to talk some more to Jordan about the situation anyway, so she might as well let him drop her home, she thought resignedly.

The light was fading outside and Jennifer lit the candles on the table.

‘Anyone want coffee?’ Steve asked, standing up.

‘Not for me, thanks.’ Jordan smiled. ‘But I’ll give you a hand to stack the dishwasher.’ He waved away Jennifer’s objections as he got to his feet. ‘It’s the least I can do after such a lovely meal.’

‘You OK?’ Jennifer asked Charlotte as soon as they were left alone.

‘Yes, fine.’ Charlotte smiled and then hastily got to her feet. She had to get away before her sister started probing further. Jennifer knew her too well not to realise something was wrong.