A Grand Illusion Read online

  'It's the crass sort of thing you try with every woman,' she flung at him. 'I'm not like any one of them!'

  'Ah yes, how could I forget? You're the paragon. Mere roses wouldn't do for you, would they? They're too common.' He stepped close to her desk and leaned across it, staring into her flashing eyes. 'What will it take to reach that cold little heart of yours barely beating under all that ice?'

  'Haven't you heard?' Her voice dripped acid. 'Paragons aren't real. We don't have hearts.'

  Royce straightened at once, almost as if she had struck him. And then he started to laugh, long and hard. 'I'll have to remember that!'

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It was ten o'clock that evening before Jenna managed to relax. She had settled a restless and unusually irritable Robbie for the night and was immersed in the bathtub when her doorbell rang. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let out a harsh sigh. Why should she be surprised? Nothing had gone right yet today. Her first impulse was to ignore it, from the impatient sound of whoever kept his finger pressed down, she knew he wasn't going to give up and go away until he managed to wake up the baby.

  'I'm coming—I'm coming,' she muttered hurriedly, barely drying off before pulling a fluffy white terrycloth robe around her. Her hair was damp around her face, long dark tendrils escaping from her topknot, and her skin was still flushed and rosy from the hot water as she ran across the living room. Standing behind and a little to one side of the door, she opened it a crack. Her eyes widened for a shocked instant before she reacted instinctively and started to slam it shut.

  'Wait!' Royce said quickly.

  'Meg isn't here. It's very late and I'm just about to go to bed.' Her voice was freezing.

  He stepped closer and wedged his shoe between the door and the jamb. 'I didn't come to see Meg. I want to talk to you.'

  'Can't it wait until tomorrow?'

  'No, it's got to be now. Please let me in.'

  It was too dangerous. 'I have a telephone, Mr Drummond. You didn't have to make a special trip over here.'

  He glanced back over his shoulder. 'I'd rather not discuss this on the phone or on your doorstep. I won't stay long, I promise.'

  The slight curving of his lips was meant to soften her up, she knew, but she remained immune. 'I'm not dressed for visitors,' she said irritably, noticing he looked impeccable in a dark sports coat and white turtleneck sweater.

  'I've seen you in your robe before. Remember the night we first met?'

  A miserable red ran into her face. She tried to close the door, but his foot blocked her efforts.

  'Jennifer, please!'

  It was useless to fight him and when she finally gave in, she would only look more a fool. Robbie was asleep. She'd probably be safe enough for a few minutes.

  With a short sigh, she stepped back, opening the door to let him in. 'All right, Mr Drummond. Like the first time, you've got five minutes. What is it you wanted to discuss?'

  He silently closed the door and stood just inside it, looking at her, skimming over her tousled hair and thick robe to her bare toes curling into the carpet. He kept one hand suspiciously behind his back. 'I want to start over. On the right foot this time.'

  Her jaw started to drop. This was the last thing she expected him to say. Gripping her robe tightly in front of her, she frowned warily, but didn't trust herself to say anything.

  'I've never met anyone like you before,' he went on softly. 'No matter how much I bully you, you're equal to it. You're fantastic in your work, and what's more, you catch things I miss and never say anything about them. You just correct them. I've come to realise what a goldmine I've got, and I want to keep you.' He took a square white box from behind him, holding it out to her with slightly shaking hands. 'I'd like you to accept this in the spirit it's intended.'

  This definitely took the wind out of her sails. If he had been arrogant or cutting, she would have been able to handle him, but here he was, almost humble.

  She tilted her head to one side and looked at him uneasily, trying to decide if it was all an act. He wasn't running true to form and she definitely didn't trust him. 'There's no need for this, Mr Drummond. You pay me a good salary and I enjoy the challenge of working as your secretary. You don't have to worry that I'll leave you.'

  'But I do. No one else would have been able to cover for me while I passed out in my office and still have the business run as smoothly as if I'd been there myself. Oh yes,' he said quickly when she would have contradicted him, 'I heard from Redwicke in Graphics—about everybody who pestered you yesterday. I ought to get a revolving door… But nobody knew I was there. They all thought I was out tending to business. In just this short time I've come to rely on you. I owe you a lot. Please.' He forced the box into her hands.

  Not trusting him for one minute, Jenna blushed hotly. Then curiosity got the better of her and, opening the box, she drew in a sharp breath when she saw a small bunch of warm wet violets. A sudden swift rush of feeling ran through her. They weren't his awful roses! 'Mr Drummond—'

  'Please don't refuse them. I hoped you'd like them. They remind me of you.'

  She blinked suddenly wary eyes and watched as he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

  'Goodnight, Jennifer,' he said softly.

  'Goodnight, Mr—'

  A harsh choking cough cut off his name. The sound of Robbie trying to cry and gasp for breath at the same time came from the bedroom.

  'Is your son ill?' he asked, his hand on the doorknob.

  'He's got bronchitis,' she said quickly. 'It flares up every once in a while.'

  'Shouldn't you see to him?'

  'Of course.' But I have to get rid of you first, she thought wildly, smiling, trying not to show her panic.

  She nearly pushed him out the door and ran to the bedroom, still clutching the box of violets. Setting it down on a small table, she lifted Robbie in her arms and tried to soothe his harsh breathing. 'Don't panic, darling. You're all right.'

  It took nearly fifteen minutes to quiet him, leaning him over a doubled-up pillow at his stomach and rubbing his back. When she finally had him breathing normally again, she laid him back in his cot—then stopped dead.

  Royce Drummond was standing in the doorway watching her.

  This is it, she thought, lifting her chin, clenching her jaw, waiting for the violent explosion of anger to follow his sudden recognition of his nephew.

  But nothing happened.

  She stood waiting, staring at him, but all he said was, 'Is he all right now?'

  She nodded dumbly.

  'I know you didn't want me to stay, but he sounded as if he was in trouble. I thought you might need my help—to take him to a hospital or something.' He came to stand beside the cot looking down at the baby. 'You scared your mother, didn't you?' he said softly, reaching out to ruffle the dark hair so like his own.

  But still he didn't see the resemblance.

  'Are you all right?' he asked, looking at Jenna's colourless face.

  He didn't recognise his nephew! All this time she had worried for nothing. She looked down at Robbie, now drifting off to sleep, his breathing less laboured, and wanted to scream with relief.

  'He really scared you, didn't he? Your face is so white now. All the time you worked on him you were so much in control. But now…' Royce put his arm around her shoulders and gently led her out of the room.

  She didn't even think to protest.

  'Come and sit down,' he murmured soothingly. 'I know you'd rather I didn't stay, but could I get you something?' He looked at a loss for a moment. 'What's called for in this situation? I know you haven't anything except that poison I had the other night.'

  'Some good strong tea,' she whispered, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes. He didn't recognise Robbie! He had big grey eyes and black hair and a deep dimple in his chin, just like Royce himself, but he didn't recognise him. She tried to drag herself together. 'I'll get it. Er—would you like some? Or coffee?'

  'Thank you. I'd like coffee, b
ut I'll make it.'

  'No, I'm all right, really.'

  But he didn't listen to her. He'd already gone to the kitchen and she could hear him rummaging through her cupboards.

  She couldn't believe her luck. If he had realised who Robbie was, he would have said something, given some indication. There had been nothing but sympathy in his warm grey eyes, compassion carved on his handsome face. Jenna's relief was so great she was able to pull herself together and lean back against the sofa and actually smile when he came back with two steaming cups and put them on the end table before sitting beside her.

  'That's better,' he. smiled. 'Your colour's coming back. Does this sort of thing happen to him often?'

  She shook her head. 'It used to, but the attacks are less frequent now. I'm hoping he'll grow out of it.'

  'That's good. I know my mother had quite a time with Peter when he was a baby. He had allergies. For a while there, the doctors thought it was asthma, but it just turned out he was allergic to all sorts of things. I suppose he told you?'

  'No.' She busied herself with her teacup, hoping he wouldn't see the bright colour stealing into her face. 'Peter was more Meg's friend than mine. It was good of you to stay,' she said softly, searching desperately for something to change the subject. 'And I really do like the violets. How did you know I would?'

  Royce grinned. 'You wouldn't even look at my roses, and even though you try to act the part of a very liberated lady, I knew underneath it all there had to lurk an old-fashioned girl. If you'd been as cold and heartless as you want everyone to believe, you wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of having that baby of yours. You'd have had an abortion and that would have been the end of it.'

  Jenna choked softly. 'I couldn't let that happen.'

  'I'm glad. He's a beautiful child.'

  She pushed back the brown wisps of hair falling in her eyes and nervously licked her lips. Why couldn't they find something else to talk about? He might start putting two and two together. 'Er—have you seen Meg tonight? Does she like her new apartment? I wanted to ring her, but her phone hasn't been installed yet.' She knew she was babbling, but she had to change the subject.

  He drained his cup and leaned across her to set it on the table. 'No, I haven't seen her.' He stayed in this bent position and looked directly into her burning face. 'You know, I never realised it before, but she's really empty-headed. Most of the women I know are like that. You're the only one who's different.'

  Jenna pressed herself as far back into the sofa cushions as she possibly could. 'Since I wasn't blessed with a pretty face, Nature made up for it by, giving me brains instead,' she explained.

  'Who says you're not pretty?' His voice was husky and he leaned closer.

  'Stop it right there, Mr Drummond,' she said icily, her face set in freezing fury. 'Just what are you leading up to?'

  He stayed leaning over her but raised both hands, letting them hover near her shoulders. 'What makes you think I'm leading up to anything?'

  'I know a line when I hear one. I'm not pretty, I'm plain. Let's not kid ourselves, shall we? You've given me flowers. You've poured on the charm. You're smiling and seductive. What comes next?'

  'A proposal of marriage, what else?' he said coldly, stung. 'I want you to marry me, Jennifer.'

  She stared at him for a long moment, searching his face. 'That does it!' She jumped to her feet, pushing at his chest to get him out of the way, then stood stiff and still, glaring at him. 'If you don't leave here this instant, I'll call the police and have them arrest you for harassment!'

  His eyebrows rose in a thick black line over grim eyes. 'That's not quite the reaction I expected.'

  'What am I suppose to do? Throw myself at you feet and grovel in thanksgiving because a man as handsome as you are has seen fit to notice me? What kind of game are you playing?'

  'If you'd shut up for a minute instead of going off half-cocked, I'd tell you!' Royce shouted furiously, glaring back at her, rolling effortlessly to his feet. He slipped his hands into his pockets and threw his head back with an unconscious arrogance. 'I realise this is something of a shock to you. I meant to lead up to it, ply you with roses and champagne and candlelight dinners before I proposed. But seeing you with that baby in there hurried things up.' Her eyes smouldered. 'But you're too smart for all that, aren't you? It wouldn't have softened you up at all.'

  'Oh, too right, Mr Drummond.' Her voice was clipped.

  'So I simply took the bull by the horns and hoped to catch you off guard. I need a wife and, after tonight, I see you could certainly use a husband.'

  'I don't believe I'm hearing this!' she gasped. 'Why would I need a husband?'

  'To help you with your son, of course.'

  'I've managed perfectly well without one up to now.' She walked stiffly to the door and held it open. 'Please leave, Mr Drummond. I'll pretend we never had this conversation.'

  'I'm not leaving,' he said precisely, stepping close to her and slamming the door so hard the walls shook. 'I haven't said all I came to say.'

  'I don't want to hear it!'

  'You're going to listen.' He gripped her shoulders and shook her.

  The terrycloth robe she wore was tied at the waist, but the violent way he shook her made it loosen and all at once it slipped open, parting the two sides. She tried to grab the edges and pull it together, but Royce blocked her efforts easily, and she stood paralysed with embarrassment as his eyes flared with something she couldn't name. They dropped to the front of her to enjoy the sight of her slender naked body, and she wanted to die with shame. A nerve twitched in his clenched jaw as one of his hands slipped inside the robe to rest on the warm curve of her hip.

  Her heart stopped beating for a breathless moment before it began racing again in sudden panic. She was drawn closer until she felt the roughness of his clothes brushing against her, the warmth of his body reaching out to the burning heat of hers.

  His other hand moved to her neck where it rested on her pounding pulse. Then his lips were there, feather-soft, lightly teasing, brushing her sensitive skin, and she thought she would faint from the sudden spinning sensations coursing through her.

  She should have pulled away, but her body had a will of its own and wouldn't listen to her more practical mind.

  This shouldn't be happening, it said. How could you let it? You'll be sorry.

  But why not enjoy it for the moment? it answered. This is something that has never happened before and will never happen again.

  Her eyes closed and a crazy weakness attacked her legs. She had the strangest sensation of floating yet being held fast and safe. Her head spun in dizzy spirals. She had never been so aware of any man before, aware of the hard strength of his arms, the silky softness of his coal black hair clinging to her fingers, the shape of his head, the warmth of his skin stretching across firm cheekbones and jutting jaw. An elusive masculine scent clung to his slightly damp skin and she felt herself drawn closer and closer until she must melt right into his body and become part of him.

  Was this what Meg felt? she wondered. Finally she could understand the powerful attraction that had resulted in that beautiful baby in the other room. She had always wondered. Now she knew.

  Giving herself a mental shake, she focused her dazed eyes on Royce and felt a furious heat coursing through her body all the way from her toes to the roots of her hair, now hanging wildly about her face.

  She was on the sofa, draped all over him, but she had no idea how she got there. Her whole body clenched as she pulled herself together, dragging herself off him, standing on trembling legs, belting her robe tightly around her.

  For a long moment they looked at each other in a thick and seething silence.

  'Well, Jennifer? Will you marry me?' His voice was cool as he sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to restore it to some kind of order.

  Had she done that to him? Her chest rose and fell in a harsh agitated movement. She was out of breath and still slightly dazed. This total abandon
ment of all her senses was new to her. There was a curious ringing sensation in her ears, and she wondered who she was and where she was and how she came to be here.

  'There's a passionate woman under all that ice,'. Royce said softly, getting to his feet, stepping closer to her. 'I wasn't wrong. I want you for my wife. Marriage to me wouldn't be so bad, would it?'

  Jenna jerked back automatically. 'It's impossible.'

  'I know you're not indifferent to me. So why?'

  She shook her head blindly from side to side. 'I just can't. It's—it's preposterous. You don't really expect me to fall all over myself and accept?' He couldn't think that!

  A black scowl crossed his features and his fists clenched. 'I need a wife.'

  'I'm sure Meg would jump at the chance. Or Alexandra. Or Margo—'

  'I want you!' he shouted furiously. 'If I wanted one of them, I'd have asked them. You're the only one who has all the qualifications I'm looking for.'

  She stared at him, her eyes huge round blue saucers in her white face. 'You make it sound as if I'd passed an interview for a job!'

  'You did, in a way. I need a paragon to fill the role of wife. You're practical and level-headed. You don't panic in unpleasant situations. If I asked you to entertain out-of-town guests at a moment's notice I'm sure you could do it.' His mouth twisted. 'That's the sort of thing I'm talking about. I can count on you. When you're in charge, everything runs smoothly. Nothing ruffles you.'

  Jenna gaped at him. Didn't he know he ruffled her just by being in the same room with her?

  'I realise after one disaster with a man, you're probably wary about stepping into another, but you're exactly the kind of woman I need for a wife.'

  She closed her eyes for a long moment, expecting him to have vanished when she opened them again. This couldn't be happening! It was so much worse than her most horrible nightmare. This was like no proposal she had ever imagined.

  When she opened her eyes again, he was still there watching her. Shivers raced down her spine at the unreadable look in his smouldering eyes. An unconsciously held breath bubbled past her lips as she sank down into a chair and brushed a hand across her face. 'I'm sorry, Mr Drummond, it's just not possible.'