The Tycoon's Trophy Mistress

She shook her head. ‘I’ve no loved ones left to be at home with. That’s one of the reasons I applied for the move,’ she added quietly.

Recalling not only the break-up of her engagement but what had happened to her stepbrother, and upset by his own unthinking blunder Mr Telford looked distressed. ‘Please forgive me, my dear. I’m afraid I wasn’t thinking.’

‘That’s all right.’ Then, with a determined smile, ‘Christmas in New York should be wonderful.’

‘I hope it will be.’

‘You’re very kind,’ she said warmly.

He harrumphed before asking, ‘How do you stand as far as your work’s concerned? Can some other member of the team take over?’

‘That shouldn’t be necessary. I can finish my latest report this afternoon.’

‘So when do you think you can be ready to travel?’

Adrenalin pumping through her bloodstream, she told him, ‘All I have to do is pack, so I could be ready to leave by tomorrow… If it’s possible to get a flight at such short notice?’

‘Our company have a big stake in one of the transatlantic airlines so that shouldn’t prove to be a problem. I’ll ask Mr Wolfe’s secretary to make all the arrangements. She’ll give you any other necessary information and organize a car to take you to the airport, where a ticket will be waiting for you. Needless to say, the company will be happy to defray any other travelling expenses you may incur, and this month’s salary cheque will be paid into your bank as usual.’

‘Thank you.’

Well aware that she had had to cope with more than enough heartbreak, at the door Mr Telford turned and said, ‘You will take care, won’t you…?’

Though it was, strictly speaking, none of his business, he was uneasy about Daniel Wolfe’s barely concealed interest and his motive for what Telford was beginning to suspect had been a contrived move.

But, knowing how Charlotte felt about Wolfe, common sense told him that she was hardly likely to be in any danger.

Smiling, she answered, ‘Of course.’

‘And don’t forget to come back to us.’

For an instant her smile faltered. She had already faced the fact that it would be impossible for her to return to Wolfe International. That chapter in her life was over.

Whether or not she succeeded in her mission, it would be time to put the past behind her, if she could, and move on…

But she would succeed, she vowed. She had to succeed to make the rest of her life worth living.

The bus, its grimy windows filmed with a fine drizzle, crawled through the heavier-than-usual Thursday evening traffic like a wounded snail.

By the time Charlotte got off at Belton Street and let herself into the Bayswater flat, her first, almost sick, excitement had seeped away.

So had her confidence.

As naturally tidy as her flatmate was untidy, she hung up her coat and suit jacket before going through to the bright little kitchen.

Carla, who looked like a cat, had all the subtlety of a Rottweiler and was fond of quoting platitudes. She was standing by the stove.

Her short black hair standing up in spikes, her triangular face a little flushed, she was stirring a pan of herby-smelling sauce with one hand and feeding long sticks of pasta into furiously bubbling water with the other.

Looking up, she said, ‘I thought we’d have Spag Bol tonight, if that suits you?’ Then, without waiting for an answer, ‘What happened? Did you get it?’

‘Yes, I got it.’

‘Brill! So you’re on course at last. How long will you be away?’

‘I don’t know. It all depends on how things go. The memo said six months, possibly a year… But I’m hoping to be home much sooner than that. I suppose you’ll get someone else to share the rent?’

Carla who, with another friend, Macy, ran a small but very successful boutique, shook her head. ‘I doubt it. It’s not really necessary, and I don’t know how I’d get on living with someone else.

‘Any idea when you’ll be going?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow!’ She sounded staggered. ‘Why so soon?’

‘They want me to get settled in before Christmas. You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Of course I don’t mind. To tell you the truth, Andrew has been pressuring me to go up to Scotland with him on the 23rd. His family live in Dundee.’

‘You didn’t mention it.’

‘I couldn’t decide whether or not I wanted to go.’

Realizing that Carla had been unwilling to leave her, Charlotte could only feel grateful for such a loyal friend.

Knowing from past experience that her flatmate was uncomfortable with any undue display of sentiment, she merely said, ‘But you’ll go now, I hope?’

‘I expect so. Though the shop’s bound to be busy, Macy has offered to hold the fort for a couple of days in exchange for extra time off at New Year.’

Fishing out a strand of spaghetti and pinching it between her finger and thumb, Carla went on briskly, ‘This is done, so I’ll start dishing up. You can fill me in on all the details while we eat, and afterwards I’ll help you with your packing.’

Then with satisfaction, ‘It’s a jolly good job I bullied you into buying all those new clothes in the autumn sale…

‘Tell you what—’ she continued, putting down two steaming bowls ‘—get some wineglasses out and we’ll have a bottle of plonk to celebrate. When you’ve got your claws into Daniel Wolfe and brought him to his knees, we’ll have champagne.’

‘I don’t think I can go through with it,’ Charlotte admitted in a rush.

‘Of course you can go through with it!’ Carla’s dark eyes flashed. ‘That kind of swine ought to get his comeuppance.’

‘But, even if I can attract his attention in the first place, I don’t think I’m a good enough actress to pretend to like a man I loathe and detest.’

‘Certainly you are. Didn’t you play the femme fatale opposite that revolting Keith what’s-his-name when the Sixth Form put on Someone Like You?’

‘This isn’t the same…’

‘You can do it!’

‘I’m not so sure… The thing is, as well as being an extremely wealthy man, Daniel Wolfe’s got loads of sex-appeal, so he’s—’

‘How do you know he’s got loads of sex-appeal?’

‘I’ve seen pictures of him in the papers.’

‘Newspaper pictures can give a false impression.’

‘He’s always got a woman clinging to his arm.’

‘That could be something to do with his money. You know what they say about millionaires—some women will love them if they’re bald and hideous and only four foot two.’

‘He must be at least six foot and he has plenty of hair. Added to that, he’s undeniably attractive.’

‘Close to, I bet you he’s wall-eyed and has halitosis,’ Carla said sourly.

Charlotte smiled fleetingly. ‘Just in case I do manage to get close to him, I rather hope not. But what I’m trying to say is, apart from being rich, he’s clever and intelligent. I don’t know if I can attract someone like that.’

Carla lifted her eyes to heaven as though praying for patience. ‘You’ve been attracting the opposite sex since you were at school, without even trying.’

‘But Daniel Wolfe is different. He lives in a different world and with no lack of women to choose from he may not fancy someone like me.’

‘He’ll be interested.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘He’s a man, isn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

‘And straight?’

‘Almost certainly.’

‘Then, mark my words, he’ll be a pushover.’

CHAPTER TWO

HER brain stuck on a mental treadmill, thinking, planning, analyzing, unable to rest, Charlotte lay awake for most of the night. She got up the next morning heavy-eyed and headachy, and pulled on her old woollen dressing-gown.

Outside it was grey and gloomy, with lingering patches of mist. Her father would have referred to it as ‘one of the dark days before Christmas’.

When she trailed through to the kitchen Carla, fully dressed and ready for her usual early start, was making toast and coffee.

‘You look like something the cat dragged in,’ she remarked bluntly.

‘I feel like it,’ Charlotte admitted.

‘No beauty sleep?’

‘Not much.’

‘You’ll have to do a lot better than that. If Daniel Wolfe could see you now, he’d run and hide.’

While they ate breakfast together she remarked thoughtfully, ‘I reckon your best bet would be to appeal to his protective instincts, supposing he’s got any. In my experience most macho men like the “wide-eyed and helpless” bit.’

‘I’m not sure I can do wide-eyed and helpless,’ Charlotte objected.

‘Try. It feeds their egos, believe me.’

‘I do believe you, but—’

‘How far do you intend to go? To hook him, I mean. You don’t plan to go to bed with him?’

A shiver running down her spine at the very thought, Charlotte said vehemently, ‘No I most certainly don’t!’

‘Not that you couldn’t use a spot of fun in your life…’

‘That kind of excitement I can do without.’

‘Well, if his reputation is anything to go by, he must be pretty good in bed and in your place I’d give it a whirl.’

‘With a man like that?’

‘As far as I’m concerned, life’s a bowl of cherries. You have to spit out the stones and enjoy the flesh.’

‘I don’t seem able to,’ Charlotte admitted. ‘I often wonder if there’s something wrong with me.’

‘The only thing wrong with you is your pride. And pride builds a lonely house. But a word of caution… If you do mean to keep saying no, just watch yourself. Don’t let the big bad Wolfe get you alone. From all accounts he’s a born seducer and you never know, if he’s used to getting his way, he may turn nasty…’

After issuing a spate of last-minute warnings and advice Carla gave her a quick hug. ‘I’d better go. Fridays are always busy and so close to Christmas it’s bound to be hectic.

‘Oh, by the way, I’ve left your Christmas present on the bookcase. I haven’t had time to wrap it, so you can use it as soon as you like.’

At the door she turned to say, ‘Keep in touch. I’ll miss you.’

When Charlotte went through to the living-room she found one of the boutique’s elegant black and gold bags on the bookcase.

It contained three pairs of pure silk stockings and a bottle of Dawn Flight, her favourite perfume.

Smiling fondly at the other girl’s absurd generosity, she went to fetch the Carillon Trilogy, which Carla had wanted.

Enquiries had proved it to be out of print, but after weeks of searching Charlotte had been lucky enough to find the set in a second-hand bookshop.

After she had showered, made-up with care and twisted her dark red-gold hair into a shining coil, she put on the sage-green suit and oatmeal blouse she had left ready and zipped up her case. Then, feeling tense and jumpy, she went to stand by the window of the basement flat.

She was looking up at the damp street when a sleek dark blue limousine with tinted windows stopped by the spiky wrought iron railings.

A moment later a uniformed chauffeur descended the steps and knocked at the yellow-painted door.

She hurried to open it.

Young and smart, he touched his peaked cap. ‘Morning, Miss Michaels.’

‘Good morning.’

‘May I take your luggage?’

‘Thank you.’

While he dealt with her case, Charlotte locked the door and put the key through the ornate letter-box, before following him up the area steps.

Having closed the boot he sprang to open the door of the limousine.

He couldn’t have been more on the ball if he’d been chauffeuring Daniel Wolfe himself, she thought, secretly amused by his super-efficiency.

Head down, she had started to climb in before she realized that a man with dark hair, wearing a charcoal-grey business suit and a muted shirt and tie was already sitting there.

Surprise making her miss her footing, she stumbled and ended up almost in his lap, her face only inches from his, the warmth of his breath on her lips.

Steadying her until she was properly seated, he picked up the shoulder-bag she had dropped and handed it to her. ‘I’m afraid I startled you.’ He had an attractive voice.

‘I just wasn’t expecting…’ As she realized who her fellow passenger was, the words tailed off.

No, it couldn’t be.

But it was.

Although she had only seen pictures of him, there was no mistaking that tough, charismatic face and the arrogant tilt of that dark head.

In the flesh he was even more sexy than his pictures had led her to believe, and Carla had been quite wrong. His breath was fresh and sweet and the eyes that looked straight into hers were amazing—a brilliant silvery grey, their heavy lids fringed with dense, sooty lashes.

Her heart started to race and her breathing became shallow and impeded, while a quiver of pure hatred ran through her.

She was staring into those handsome eyes as though mesmerized when he reminded her politely, ‘Don’t forget to fasten your seat-belt, Miss Michaels.’

But her brain seemed to have slowed to a standstill and was unable to direct her fingers. When she had made a couple of fumbling, unsuccessful attempts, he leaned over and fastened it for her.

As the car slid smoothly away from the kerb, he felt a boyish urge to punch the air in triumph. After all these months of waiting, here she was at last, sitting beside him.

Close up, she was stunning. Her skin was flawless, a creamy gold, rather than pallid, as some natural redheads were. And those eyes! Daniel had been making bets with himself as to what colour her eyes would be. Probably blue, he’d decided. Blue he could happily live with, but that clear, dark green was absolutely breathtaking.

Not for the first time he found himself regretting what had happened. It could make getting anywhere with this gorgeous woman next door to impossible.

Though she was looking at him in a way that made him strongly suspect she already knew who he was, he decided to take the plunge and bring things into the open. ‘I guess I’d better introduce myself. I’m Daniel Wolfe.’

He held out his hand.

Like someone in a dream, Charlotte took it.

His palm was cool and dry, his handclasp firm, but she would sooner have touched a snake and she was already withdrawing her hand before he said politely, ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Michaels.’

Stunned by this surprise encounter, she made no reply. Her brain seemed jarred, incapable of coming to grips with the situation. All she could think was that it was too soon. She wasn’t ready.

When she continued to sit as still and blank-faced as if she were having a passport photograph taken Daniel held his breath.

If she believed only a fraction of what the gutter press had printed she still had no reason to love him and, his usual confidence deserting him at times, he had wondered uneasily what her reaction would be when they finally came face to face.

Yet it was a hurdle he had to get over, and now the moment had arrived all he could do was wait for the recriminations.

But, apparently thrown by the unexpectedness of the meeting, she remained silent.

Letting his breath out slowly, he went on, ‘As we were travelling at the same time I thought we might as well share a car to the airport…’

Charlotte, who had been struggling to gather her wits, blurted out the first thing that came into her head. ‘I had no idea you were in London… That’s why I was so surprised when you introduced yourself.’

Registering that she had a lovely voice, low and slightly husky, he remarked, ‘I got the impression that you knew who I was before I introduced myself?’

‘Yes, I knew,’ she admitted.

‘But we’ve never actually met.’

‘No,’ she agreed.

‘I presume you’ve seen me at the office?’

‘No.’

‘Out and about, socially?’

Shaking her head, she pointed out, ‘We’re hardly likely to move in the same social circles.’

‘This beats I Spy.’

Momentarily failing to understand, she said, ‘I beg your pardon?’

Straight faced, he explained, ‘As a young child I used to get bored travelling in a car. My mother tried giving me books but looking down made me sick, so we always played I Spy With My Little Eye. I was just remarking that this particular guessing game beats it.’

Annoyed that he was making fun of her, she said crisply, ‘I’ve seen pictures of you in the papers.’

But pictures hadn’t had this impact. Pictures hadn’t prepared her for the man himself.

He sighed. ‘It was just getting exciting, and now you’ve gone and spoilt it.’

‘Well, we can always play I Spy.’

As soon as the words were spoken she wished them unsaid. She was supposed to be trying to charm him, not trying to cut him down to size.

She couldn’t afford to hurt his feelings. Like most men of his ilk he probably had a fragile ego and no sense of humour.

But a split second later he proved her wrong by bursting out laughing. He had a nice laugh, quiet and infectious, not the kind of hearty guffaw she so disliked.

A gleam in his eye, he said, ‘I’m forced to admit that these days I prefer more grown up games.’

‘I’m aware of that.’ She had had tragic proof of his liking for ‘grown up games’, and all at once she wanted to fly at him, to rake her nails down his handsome face until she drew blood.

Regretting the teasing remark that had prompted such an icy response, Daniel sat quite still, watching her intently, braced for the worst.

But, already ashamed of that primitive urge to violence, and reminding herself that if she was to succeed in her campaign he mustn’t know about her connection with Tim, Charlotte reined in her anger.

Making a great effort she added lightly, ‘In every picture there’s been a different woman on your arm, and the papers have frequently referred to you as a latter-day Lothario with a string of notches on your bedpost.’

‘At times their stories have bordered on the libellous. I’ve always deplored that kind of coverage.’

‘Then it wasn’t you who said, “No publicity is bad publicity”?’

Happy to respond to what seemed to be a change of mood, he answered with a grin, ‘What do you think?’

His smile showed the gleam of white, healthy teeth, formed deep creases each side of his mouth and filled his dark face with charm.

Very conscious of his sexual magnetism and hating him for it, Charlotte made an effort to smile back.

She found it easier than she had anticipated. It seemed she was a better actress than she had given herself credit for.

Rocked by that smile, he told her, ‘I’m afraid my present relationship with the press leaves a lot to be desired. After being asked at a recent press conference what I thought of modern journalism, I stated my belief that some journalists not only embroider the truth but fabricate what they don’t know. Since then they’ve been out for blood.’

‘Are they lies?’ The question was out before she could prevent it.

‘Very often they are,’ he said steadily. ‘Though I don’t pretend to live like a monk, most of their stories are just that. Stories. But, unfortunately, when dirt’s thrown some of it’s bound to stick.’

‘But surely you were once the press’s Golden Boy?’

‘I was until I proved to be uncooperative… Which I can never accuse you of being.’ Smoothly he changed the subject. ‘I hope agreeing to make this transfer so soon didn’t cause you too many problems?’

‘No, not at all.’

‘You’re not leaving behind anyone special? A boyfriend, perhaps?’

‘No.’

Only too pleased to have Sheering’s report confirmed, Daniel queried, ‘How did you manage with regard to your flat?’

‘The flat is a rented one I share with an old school friend, so that was no problem.’

‘Most people would have balked at being parted from their families this close to Christmas.’

Her voice under control she said, ‘I have no family to share Christmas with.’

He waited.

When she failed to mention her stepbrother, Daniel wondered why. Even though he was her boss, he couldn’t believe she lacked either the will or the courage to confront him.

Ready to tell her how much he regretted what had happened, to explain his part in it, he asked a number of careful questions, skirting round the family issue, giving her every chance to bring things into the open.

When she failed to do so he was forced to conclude that, for whatever reason, she had made up her mind to say nothing.

Though he himself would have preferred to confront the issue, if she had decided to leave the past behind then, for the time being at least, he would go along with that.

Charlotte, having answered his questions with at least outward composure, was feeling a little more sure of herself. Even so, she seemed unable to get her act together.

Though she knew she might never have this kind of opportunity again, and she should be making the most of it, she could think of nothing sparkling to say, no way to interest him.

When the silence began to stretch, reasonably satisfied with how things had gone so far, Daniel asked, ‘Have you ever been to New York before?’

Relieved to move on to this new subject, she answered, ‘No, I haven’t, though I’ve always wanted to go.’

‘I hope you’ll enjoy the experience.’

‘I’m sure I will.’

Then, seizing the chance to carry on with the conversation, ‘What’s it like, living in New York?’

‘It’s overcrowded, and the traffic is a nightmare. In summer it can be hot and dusty and airless, and in winter cold and bleak and snowy.

‘In common with most cities it has its share of crime and deprivation and weirdos. But in the past it’s always been alive and vibrant. Synonymous with exciting.

‘These days it’s like an old dog that, though it’s been badly beaten, is still brave and beautiful. And you’ll find that most New Yorkers are great. They have the same kind of indomitable spirit that Londoners do.

‘I’ve always thought New York was a wonderful place to be, and I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.

‘Having said that, however, I don’t lose sight of the fact that I’m one of the fortunate ones, with a home in a pleasant area and a chauffeur-driven car.

‘When it’s too hot and humid I can move out to the beaches on Long Island, and when it’s miserable and slushy underfoot I can travel Upstate to the virgin snow of the Catskills.’

‘It sounds idyllic.’

‘As I say, I’m one of the lucky ones.’

When she said no more he steered the conversation towards the latest news.

Charlotte followed his lead and until they reached the airport, like polite strangers, they talked about what was happening in the world.

As the limousine drew up outside Departures, with a sinking heart Charlotte realized that her chance to make the right kind of impression on Daniel Wolfe was gone. As soon as the chauffeur had finished unloading their luggage she and her companion would no doubt part company.

The best she dared hope for was that she had made enough of an impact that once in New York he might possibly renew contact to ask how she was getting on.

But when, having smiled and thanked him for the lift, she said goodbye and prepared to go, he shook his head. ‘Stick with me, Miss Michaels.’

‘But I have to pick up my ticket.’

‘That’s all taken care of. We’re both booked on the same plane.’

Before she had got over her amazement he had gathered her up and, a hand at her waist, swept her along with him as though she were his equal rather than his employee.

At five feet seven inches she was fairly tall for a woman, but he must be a minimum of six feet three inches, she guessed, and seemed even bigger because of the breadth of his shoulders.

Focused and powerful, he moved lithely and fast on the balls of his feet, a tight mass of coiled energy, and she found herself almost trotting to keep up with his long strides.

Travelling with Daniel Wolfe, she soon found, was a totally new experience. VIP treatment smoothed their path and added immeasurably to their ease and convenience.