The Seduction Game (17 page)
Read The Seduction Game Online
Authors: Sara Craven
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women, #General
‘A new client,’ he muttered. ‘Asked for you particularly. Looking for a keen young architect to work towards a junior partnership in his company.’
And he stood back to allow Adam to precede him into the room.
‘Miss Lyndon.’ His smile was friendly, but impersonal. They might have been strangers meeting for the first time. ‘Mr Southern tells me you have a gift for people.’
‘Mr Southern exaggerates.’ Tara studiously ignored his outstretched hand, and Leo’s look of horror.
When they were alone, she said, ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Adam? Playing some new game?’ She ticked them off on her fingers. ‘We’ve had the friendship game—and the seduction game. Is this the business relationship game?’
‘This is a serious enquiry. I want to recruit a new member to my team. I was told you offer this kind of service.’
‘My goodness,’ she said bitterly. ‘Becky has been busy. Is there one single detail of my life you’re not familiar with by now?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said equably. ‘Why don’t you tell me about it yourself over dinner tonight, and we’ll see if she’s left anything out?’
She shook her head, her hands fiddling with the pen she was holding. ‘We both know that’s not going to happen.’ She paused. ‘Do you need someone to help with the Silver Creek development? I thought that was your baby.’
‘Very much so.’
‘I imagine you have your—Caroline’s full backing for your plans? I mean she’d hardly want to live there herself.’
‘I’m trying to reconcile her to the idea, though it’s not easy. But I have her full support for what I’m planning to do there.’ He leaned back in his chair, very much at ease while she felt wretchedly on edge. He was wearing a dark City suit today, with a dazzling white shirt and a silk tie in discreet jewel colours. He looked like serious money, and she could understand Leo’s anguish at her cavalier reception of him.
She selected a printed form. ‘Perhaps we could go through a few of your requirements—what qualifications you’d expect—range of experience—proposed salary structure.’
‘My main requirement is for you to have dinner with me tonight. I need to talk to you.’
She dug her pen into the paper. ‘Whatever you have to say, you can say now.’
‘Very well.’ He produced a scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘Is this car number familiar?’
She glanced at it. ‘No. Why?’
‘Because it was parked opposite your apartment block when I left last night, and there was a man sitting in it. When he saw me looking at him, he drove off.’
‘He probably thought you were going to clamp him.’ She spoke lightly, but her heart was thumping.
‘Tara,’ he said quietly. ‘We seem to be talking about someone who knows where you live—your phone number—and where you spend your leisure time. So where did he get this information? After all, you’re not in the phone book.’
‘You seem to have managed pretty well,’ she said shortly. ‘Perhaps Becky’s been handing out my personal details to all and sundry.’
‘You know better than that.’ He paused. ‘One of the reasons I came here today was to suggest you look more closely at your immediate circle, including your colleagues.’
Tara gasped. ‘That’s nonsense,’ she said warmly. ‘I know them all well, and there’s no reason—’ She halted abruptly as something occurred to her.
‘Well?’ Adam prompted.
She fidgeted with the papers in front of her. ‘When I got back yesterday my secretary had left very suddenly, and no one seems to know why.’
‘You’d been on good terms with her?’
‘The best. I trusted her completely.’ She spread her hands. ‘I was even going round to see her, to persuade her to come back.’
‘Did she know you’d be at Silver Creek?’
‘No—no one did.’ She paused, frowning. ‘That’s it—that’s what’s been nagging at me. Becky didn’t know either—I made up some story to put her off the scent, but she turned up anyway.’
‘And she wasn’t expecting you to be with me,’ Adam said slowly. ‘She was joking about it afterwards, telling me how different I was from the image she’d formed.’ His mouth tightened. ‘I think you should call her, Tara.’
She nodded. Lifted the phone and dialled.
‘Darling,’ Becky carolled when she heard her voice. ‘Are you still on Cloud Nine? I would be.’
‘Beck, listen,’ Tara said urgently. ‘How did you know I’d be at Silver Creek?’
Becky laughed. ‘Why, from the boyfriend, of course. The one you’re keeping under wraps. He rang me in a terrible state because he was supposed to be joining you at the house and he’d lost the address and directions you’d given him.’ She sighed gustily. ‘You know what I’m like about directions. No wonder he didn’t make it.’
‘Did he say his name?’ Tara felt hollow inside.
‘Do you know, I can’t remember?’ Becky thought for a moment. ‘Tell you what, though,’ she added cheerfully, ‘I’d stick to Adam like a limpet. Mystery Man sounded rather too charming for his own good. Smarmy, in fact. But maybe I’m being unfair.’
‘No,’ Tara said. ‘No, you’re not. I’ll see you soon, love.’
She replaced the receiver and looked at Adam, swallowing. ‘He rang her—spun her a story about joining me.’
‘On a number he could have got from your database, presumably. If it was made available to him.’
‘You think Janet—helped him?’
‘Someone did.’ His face was grim. ‘Tara, if you’re going to see her I’m coming with you, and no argument.’
She wanted to protest, to tell him she could handle it.
Instead, she heard herself say, ‘Thank you,’ as she reached for her bag.
Janet’s house looked deserted, the door firmly closed, the curtains half drawn.
‘I don’t think there’s anyone there,’ Tara said as they walked up the path.
‘I saw someone at the bedroom window.’ Adam rang the bell. As they waited they could hear faint sounds of movement inside the house, but no one came to the door.
Tara bent and called softly through the letter box. ‘Janet, it’s Tara Lyndon. Please talk to me.’
There was another pause, then the front door opened slowly. Janet looked terrible. She’d clearly been crying, and her plump face was pale and strained.
‘Oh, Miss Lyndon,’ she whispered. ‘Are you all right? I wanted to tell you—really I did—but he said he’d make me sorry—and Mum’s here on her own all day—and I was so frightened.’ She looked past them, her gaze flitting anxiously up and down the road. ‘He’s not there, is he? Sometimes he comes and sits in his car and watches the house.’ She motioned them into the house. ‘You’d better come in.’
‘Who is he, Janet?’ Adam asked gently. ‘Who’s been scaring you?’
Janet touched her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Tom Fortescue,’ she said.
As Tara gasped, Adam looked at her gravely. ‘You know him?’
‘He was a client,’ she said tautly. ‘He was hoping I’d recommend him for an important job. But I didn’t.
There was something about him that didn’t add up for me.’
‘I thought he was so nice,’ Janet said wretchedly. ‘He came back after you’d gone, and asked me to have dinner with him. We had this lovely meal, and he said he wanted to see me again. That I was real—genuine.’
Tara took her hands and held them tightly. ‘And so you are, love. Go on.’
‘He rang me at work and asked me to meet him for lunch. But I waited for ages where he said, and he didn’t come. When I went back to the office he was there—at my desk. He’d managed to get into the computer and made himself a copy of your report about him.’
She looked miserably at Tara. ‘He said it was all right. That you’d helped him get this marvellous promotion and he wanted to keep the report as a memento. That he wanted to thank you in a special way. He was smiling and smiling, but I knew, deep down, that he didn’t mean a word of it, because I knew what you’d said, and that he’d been turned down.’
She began to cry again. ‘I said I’d tell Security what he’d done, and that’s when he started to threaten me. He said he’d tell Marchant Southern that I’d helped him, and I’d be sacked. That I’d never work in any confidential capacity again. And Mum’s only got her pension. She depends on my money...
‘And then he started phoning me at home. He said he was going to teach you a lesson—give you more misery than you’d ever imagined. And if I tried to warn you, I’d be next. Wrecking your car was just for starters, he said.’
She looked piteously at Tara. ‘I was at my wits’ end. I just wanted to hide. I think he’s crazy.’
‘It’s going to be all right,’ Adam said, putting a firm hand on her shoulder. ‘You don’t have to worry any more.’
‘And your job is still there for you,’ Tara added. ‘Take a few days off, and come back when you feel you can cope. And when we’ve dealt with Mr Fortescue,’ she added grimly.
‘And how are you, personally, going to deal with Mr Fortescue?’ Adam asked as he frowningly watched her unlock her flat door a short time later.
‘I don’t have to,’ Tara said briskly. ‘It’s a Marchant Southern matter now. I’ll hand the whole thing over to Leo.’
‘Will it be that easy?’ His voice was disturbingly gentle. ‘You’ve had a hell of a few days.’
Tom Fortescue, she thought, is the least of my troubles.
‘The worst part was not knowing who it was—or why it was happening,’ she said quietly. ‘Now that I know, he’s no longer a threat—just a sad, unpleasant creature. I can handle that.’
‘Did it really never occur to you it might be him?’ he asked curiously.
She shook her head. ‘No—I’d just interviewed him, decided he wasn’t—right in some way, and made my report accordingly. It was the last thing I did before I went on leave.’
And then I met you, she thought achingly. And falling in love drove every other coherent thought out of my head.
She turned, smiling resolutely. ‘Well, thank you for your support. Once again, I’m—grateful.’
‘Do I take that as my dismissal?’ There was amusement in his voice, and something else, less easy to define.
Far better—safer—to say a bald yes and walk inside and shut the door. Instead, she heard herself saying ‘Would you like some coffee?’
‘I think we both need something,’ he said drily. ‘And I’d like to be sure your gallant words aren’t just bravado.’
Tara busied herself with the percolator, listening to him talking softly to Melusine. It occurred to her, rawly, how at home he seemed in what, up to then, had been very much her personal space. Her throat muscles tightened.
‘Do you want cream?’ Keep it friendly, she thought. And practical. Forget the lover. Play the hostess.
‘Black will be fine.’
He got up from the sofa to take the tray from her. She saw that he’d removed his jacket and tossed it over a nearby chair, and loosened his tie.
He said, ‘I like what you’ve done with this room.’
Stupid to glow at his praise, she thought. ‘I need some more pictures.’
‘Ah,’ he said lightly. ‘I’ll have to paint you another one. But this time without additions.’
She offered a constrained smile and poured the coffee.
As she handed him his beaker his fingers closed gently round her wrist.
‘Relax, darling,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m not going to leap on you, however much I may want to.’
‘Please don’t say things like that. You have no right.’ She kept her voice cool, and steady.
‘No,’ he said. ‘You’re perfectly correct. I—sometimes have difficulty—remembering, that’s all.’ He sighed, swiftly and harshly, as he released her. ‘God what a mess I’ve made of everything.’
She drank some coffee. It tasted bitter and burned against her throat. ‘Have you tried—talking to her? Explaining?’
‘Yes,’ he admitted tautly. ‘But I can’t seem to get through to her.’
‘It may take time. You’ll just have to be patient.’ Tara bent her head. ‘She must hate me.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t think she has it in her to hate anyone.’
‘What a paragon.’ The words escaped her before she could control them, and she winced at their bitchiness.
‘No,’ he said softly. ‘I certainly wouldn’t say that’ There was a note of tenderness in his voice that transcended even passion. He sounded like a man who’d found his woman and would fight to the death to get her back, and to keep her.
If Caroline couldn’t hate, then Tara would have said she herself didn’t have an envious bone in her body. But suddenly she knew differently.
Adam put his beaker down and leaned forward. ‘Tara—I think we need to talk.’
‘About Caroline?’ She tensed, knowing she couldn’t bear any more revelations. ‘I think we’ve said enough...’
‘No,’ he said. ‘About Jack.’
‘Jack?’ For a moment she stared at him in total bewilderment, unable even to remember who Jack was. Then, as her mind clicked into gear, hot colour rushed into her face. ‘What has Becky been telling you?’
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