Charade Of The Heart

She hung her coat on the coat-stand and settled comfortably into her chair, browsing through the pile of letters, most of which she could tell at a glance, from experience, simply needed filing. Faxed letters from the boss were awaiting typing.

Beth looked at the strong, aggressive handwriting and felt a twinge of relief that he wasn’t around. She could do with a few days breaking in before she faced him.

She switched on the computer terminal and was about to begin working on the first letter when the door behind her opened.

She heard his voice before she saw him. It was deep, and right now tinged with enough hardness to freeze her to the spot.

‘Here at last. In my office. Now.’

She swivelled around to see him vanishing back into his room, and her head began to throb with nerves.

One day into this, and already things weren’t going to plan. He was not supposed to be here today. He was supposed to spend most of his time out of the country. In fact, from what Laura had told her, he was supposed to be in Paris and Geneva until the end of the week. At least. So what on earth was he doing here?

She licked her lips nervously and wished that she had listened to her good sense and laughed her sister right out of town.

He was standing by the window waiting for her, his body negligently leaning against the sill, one hand thrust into his trouser-pocket.

The difference between the man in front of her and the one she had conjured up was so vast that she looked away in confusion.

Marcos Adrino was tall and, far from having a paunch, he had not a spare ounce of fat to be seen. In fact, he had the body of a superbly tuned athlete, broad-shouldered and lean-hipped. A body that looked powerful, even though it was covered by an expensively tailored charcoal-grey suit.

Beth cleared her throat and looked at him, taking in the hard, clever lines of his face, the black hair, the dark, penetrating eyes, the curve of his mouth.

Pull yourself together, girl, she told herself. You’re the sensible one, remember?

He was staring at her through narrowed eyes.

‘Sit down,’ he ordered abruptly.

Beth edged over to the chair and sat down, lowering her eyes to her shorthand pad, making an effort to steady her hand.

It wouldn’t do to look ill-at-ease. She got the feeling that this man picked up things like that, processed them through his shrewd brain, and always came up with the right answer.

He remained standing where he was and she looked up at him with a bright smile.

‘I didn’t expect you,’ she said in a businesslike voice.

‘I dare say you didn’t,’ he drawled.

‘Successful trip?’

‘It would have been, if I hadn’t been privy to certain rumours circulating.’

‘Rumours?’

She managed a weak smile.

‘Rumour number one has it that you’ve been shirking your responsibilities here,’ he said coldly. ‘I don’t pay you to waltz into this office any time you feel like it.’

Beth gathered her wits together. This wasn’t a dictating session at all. She should have guessed that the minute she saw that forbidding expression on his face.

‘I didn’t realise that I had been,’ she ventured.

‘Really.’ He moved over to his chair and sat in it, inclining back, his hands clasped behind his head. ‘In that case, you don’t seem to be aware of the time you’re supposed to get here. I can assure you that it’s not ten o’clock.’

His voice was smooth and razor-sharp, and Beth looked at him with dislike. She had been spot-on when she had read arrogance behind her sister’s description of her boss. It was stamped all over him, but she was damned if he was going to stamp it all over her.

‘If I’ve been late on a couple of occasions,’ she said coolly, ‘than I apologise. It won’t happen again.’

‘It had better not. You’ve exhausted your first chance with me. Next time it happens and you don’t provide an acceptable excuse, you’re out. Understand?’

Beth swallowed her anger.

‘And what excuse would you consider acceptable?’ she asked with interest, forgetting that she was supposed to be holding on to her sister’s job and not kissing it sweet goodbye through the window. ‘Death, perhaps?’

Marcos’s mouth narrowed to a thin line.

‘Nor do I pay you to give me lip, is that clear?’ He stared at her and Beth defiantly met his gaze.

‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered, fiddling with her pad.

This man was more than merely uncomfortable to be around. He was unbearable, and if Laura had been around she would quite happily have strangled her on the spot.

‘Have you prepared the groundwork on the St Lucian project?’ he asked, changing the subject.

He was trying to catch her out. Beth could sense it instinctively and she thanked her lucky stars that Laura had filled her in on all the details of the major jobs he was working on.

The St Lucian project involved an immense lot of work concerning the construction of an exclusive complex in St Lucia, the sort of complex that catered for the sort of people who never associated holidays with cost.

‘Yes,’ she responded calmly. ‘The groundwork’s all been covered and an appointment with the Minister of Tourism is scheduled for next week.’

It felt good to reel off the right answer. Marcos Adrino would have had no hesitation in reducing her to the size of a pea had she not been able to meet his question with an adequate response.

She got the feeling that he had no compunction when it came to eliminating dead wood from his company. Or, for that matter, from his life. She considered what her sister had told her about his private affairs, about the women who were drawn to him like iron filings to a magnet. Now, seeing him, she realised that he was the kind of man who treated women as disposable playthings. Men, she thought, she could well do without, and this breed of man was particularly on the objectionable list.

‘I do feel, however,’ she said, throwing in her own opinion on what Laura had told her about the project, ‘that more care should be taken to involve the visitors into the island life. A fabulous complex is one thing, but it can be enhanced by easy access to the local customs.’

‘You have opinions now, have you?’ he asked softly. ‘And since when has your efficiency extended beyond my orders?’

Beth didn’t answer. She would have to remember to act in character, and Laura would never have volunteered such an observation without being asked.

‘Is that all?’ she murmured, preparing to leave. ‘Sir?’

‘The name is Marcos,’ he answered easily, ‘use it. You always have. And no, as a matter of fact, that’s not all. Not by a long shot.’

Beth waited and the silence built around her like an electric field.

He had something else to say, and, from the sound of this particular brand of silence, whatever it was it wasn’t pleasant.

CHAPTER TWO

NEVER IN HER ENTIRE LIFE had Beth felt so acutely ill at ease. And the worst part was, Marcos Adrino wasn’t at all embarrassed at her discomfort. He continued to stare at her, those black eyes taking in absolutely everything, until she felt like jumping up from the chair and begging for forgiveness for whatever the hell it was she was supposed to have done, because he still hadn’t said.

He would have made a great interrogator, she thought. He certainly had the ability to fill his silences with unspoken threat.

‘I’ve been hearing other, slightly more distasteful rumours about you,’ he broke the silence, but there was still a dangerous softness to his voice. He idly picked up the silver letter-opener from his desk, running the edge along his finger with caressing delicacy.

Did he have to do that? Beth wondered nervously. Was he doing it on purpose? She didn’t think so. There was something absent-minded about his action, but even so, it was menacing.

No wonder, when Laura had spoken about him, her voice had been filled with awe.

Of course, she decided, falling back on her good, old-fashioned sense of practicality, any awe Laura felt towards him was totally misplaced. All that forbidding arrogance didn’t intimidate her at all. Well, not now anyway. Maybe to start with, but she had got the measure of him now, she decided.

He had something unpleasant to say to her and, instead of just coming right out with it, which was what any normal boss would have done, he was playing a cat-and-mouse game with her. Creating a shroud of tension around her, waiting for her to snap, at which point he would no doubt find the whole scenario hugely entertaining.

‘Oh, yes?’ Beth asked politely.

His mouth hardened. Any minute now, she thought, and he’ll tell me that I have an attitude problem. But she was damned if she was going to let Marcos Adrino walk all over her. He might treat the rest of the human race like that, but not her. Not if she had any say in the matter.

She fleetingly thought that she was supposed to be impersonating her sister and that Laura would never have dreamt of answering back to him, and promptly pushed the thought aside for future reference.

‘You don’t seem overly concerned,’ he said, dropping the letter-knife and standing up.

Beth followed his movements warily as he walked around the desk to perch on it directly in front of her.

Another little ploy, she told herself. Designed to make the guilty party feel inferior and vulnerable. It won’t work.

Her green eyes serenely met his, and she saw an expression of what? Puzzlement? Almost as though he was trying to figure something out. Then it was gone and he was looking at her with cold disapproval.

‘Of course I’m interested in whatever rumours you’ve heard,’ Beth agreed with the same level of controlled politeness in her voice. ‘Not that rumours are always based on fact.’

‘Your week off certainly seems to have turned you into a little philosopher,’ Marcos observed coolly. ‘I don’t remember you being so opinionated before. Who did you spend the time with?’

‘No one,’ Beth said hurriedly.

‘Not even David Ryan?’

So this is it, she thought, I might have guessed. Her face reddened and then just as quickly drained of all colour.

‘I see that’s managed to crack that controlled little façade of yours.’

‘May I ask who has been spreading these…rumours?’ she asked. Not that I’ll be able to deny them. Laura, she groaned inwardly, why on earth did you have to fool around with someone in the company? Why couldn’t you have contented yourself with any one of the hundreds of other men in London who had nothing at all to do with the Adrino corporation?

Marcos smiled coldly. ‘I really don’t think that’s relevant, do you?’

‘I suppose not,’ Beth said dully.

‘The fact is that you and Ryan have been sleeping together, haven’t you?’

‘I didn’t realise that what I did outside of company time—’

‘You know damn well that it’s not allowed. You’re my secretary and Ryan isn’t just one of the junior members of staff. He’s one of our directors.’

‘He is?’ She hadn’t thought to ask Laura what David’s status in the company was, and Laura had, naturally, tactfully omitted to mention it.

‘Don’t try and plead ignorance,’ Marcos bit out. ‘It won’t work. I had noticed that his work was becoming sloppy. Is that why he requested a transfer to Paris?’

‘I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him,’ Beth hedged, looking away.

‘I’m asking you. But don’t worry, your face says it all for you. No doubt you drove the poor fellow into a corner and he fled from the country to get away from you.’

‘I resent that!’ she exclaimed hotly, standing up. It was on the tip of her tongue to inform him that she wasn’t paid to sit in his office and be systematically insulted. That he could expect her resignation first thing in the morning. But, of course, she couldn’t. Laura would never have forgiven her if their convoluted efforts to secure her job had lasted precisely two hours and had resulted in Beth walking out.

She bit back her words and rearranged her features into what she hoped was an expression of subdued apology.

‘Sit back down,’ Marcos commanded abruptly. ‘You’ll leave when I’m finished with you. You’ve been playing with Ryan, and who else? Is he one of a succession of men you’ve been sleeping with in my company?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Because I won’t have it. I can do without being known as someone who has a tramp for a secretary.’

‘I am not a tramp!’ Two bright patches of colour had appeared on her cheeks, and she realised that she was perspiring all over.

‘I needn’t tell you that rumours of your affair with Ryan could very quickly spread into rumours of an affair with me.’

The black eyes glinted cynically at her. She wondered briefly whether that wasn’t bothering him as much as Laura’s love-affair with David. After all, it was easy for a boss to lose credibility with his staff if it was rumoured that he was sleeping with his secretary.

And that would be quite an easy assumption to make. He was attractive, she supposed, if you liked that sort of ruthless appeal, and he was aware enough of his own sexuality to realise that women were drawn to him.

‘I can assure you that you don’t need to fear anything on that score,’ she informed him stiffly.

‘No?’ He raised one eyebrow, and this time there was a distinct gleam of lazy amusement in his eyes.

It altered the hard contours of his face totally, and she caught a swift, disturbing glimpse of the sort of self-assured charm that could knock any defenceless woman for six.

But she was far from defenceless. Oh, no. She had always been a controlled person, and since Craig she had erected a good many barriers to protect her from ever again being taken in by a few charming smiles and some well-rehearsed chat-up lines. That glimpse of raw sex appeal, she firmly told herself, stood no chance.

‘No,’ she told him.

‘You mean you’re not attracted to me?’ There was slightly more amusement in his eyes now, and it made Beth angry. There had been nothing amusing in his accusations a minute ago and, if he thought that he could dictate her responses to him by turning on a bit of masculine charm, then he was in for an unpleasant surprise.

‘That’s right.’ She stood up and smoothed her skirt, then she bent to retrieve the shorthand pad and her pencil. And not once did she even glance in his direction. ‘Is that all, now?’

‘That’s all.’ He moved across to the window and stood staring broodingly out. The fine drizzle that had started earlier in the morning had not let up. She could see the persistent wetness clinging to the window-pane, as though the top of the building were stuck in the middle of a cloud.

She turned to go and halted at the door when she heard the deep timbre of his voice behind her.

‘Just so long as we understand each other,’ he said silkily. He had turned to face her, and Beth’s mouth suddenly went dry. No wonder this man had such a high opinion of himself. He was clever, that much was apparent in his eyes, and he knew it. He was powerful, and he knew it. And he was sexy, and that he was certainly aware of.

But he wasn’t perfect. If he were he would be able to see the stubborn hostility in her face.

‘I think we do, Mr Adrino.’

‘Marcos. I told you when you first got this job that everyone in the company was on a first-name basis.’

‘So you did,’ Beth murmured, unable to resist a smile as she thought that they had done it. They had really managed to pull the wool over Marcos Adrino’s sharp eyes. They had fooled him. He didn’t have a clue that the woman standing in front of him had never been interviewed by him for any job.

‘Care to tell me what that smile on your face is all about?’ he drawled. ‘I can’t imagine that the past hour has exactly filled you with a warm glow.’

You’d be surprised, Beth wanted to retort, still highly amused at the thought that she had fooled the infallible Marcos Adrino.

Her smile widened. ‘Just looking forward to my day’s work,’ she said blandly. ‘Job satisfaction is a wonderful thing.’

‘Isn’t it? And by the way,’ he added, as she opened the door, ‘what have you done to your hair?’

‘Oh, I had it cut,’ Beth said cautiously. Had her triumph been short-lived? ‘I fancied a change,’ she mumbled vaguely when he didn’t say anything.

‘You’ve succeeded,’ he said, sticking his hands into his pockets. ‘From where I’m standing, you’ve succeeded very well indeed.’

Beth stepped out of the office and shut the door firmly behind her. His words were ominously perspicacious. She really would have to remember that she couldn’t give in to the temptation to react in the way she customarily would have done. That she and Laura, identical twins though they were, were very different as two individuals.

She almost fell into her chair with the relief of no longer being in Marcos’s presence.

It hadn’t just been his relentless accusations, she thought suddenly, as she logged into the computer and ran her eyes briefly over the huge store of files, realising that she would have to work a lot of overtime to really understand Laura’s job fully.

There was something alarming about him. Maybe it was just that she was not accustomed to being confronted by a man who acted as though the whole world was designed to fall in with his orders.

Her little job in Cambridge had certainly not prepared her for this particular breed of man. Her own boss had been quite mild-mannered. A sympathetic middle-aged man with three children, all girls, who wore a look of perpetual harassment on his face. Whenever anyone joked to him about it, he would laugh and reply, what do you expect, living with four women?

Beth couldn’t imagine that Marcos Adrino had ever been mild-mannered. He had probably been born arrogant. She tried to imagine him as a baby and found that she couldn’t. The only image she could conjure up was that dark, devilish, ruthlessly handsome face.

She stuck a couple of horns and a tail on her mental image, chuckled and then settled into the laborious task of catching up with the outstanding workload of typing.

When Marcos next strode out of his office, he glanced across at her with surprise.

‘Dieting?’ he drawled, slinging on his coat and pausing to stand over her.

Immediately Beth felt her pulses begin to race.

‘Pardon?’

‘It’s nearly two o’clock,’ he told her, and she returned his curious stare with surprise.

‘Is it?’ she asked, consulting her watch and feeling unnervingly gauche and idiotic. ‘Oh, yes, so it is. I must have become a bit involved.’

‘So I see. Keep it up and you won’t feel the sting of my disapproval again.’

‘Yes, sir,’ she replied tartly, wanting to hit him, and his lips curved into a small smile.

‘I won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. I have two meetings tomorrow at Harlow and Ridgewood’s. Last-minute arrangements; they probably won’t be in your diary. Finish compiling the research into Santo Domingo, will you? I want to get all that off the ground by the end of the month. Latest. I take it you won’t object to doing a bit of overtime to get it all cleared?’

‘Of course not.’ Had he really expected any other answer? The question had been phrased in such a way as to negate any other reply. Not that she had any objection to overtime anyway. For the salary that Laura was being paid, working long hours was more or less expected.

Not, she thought, that her sister had allowed that line of reasoning to enter her mind from what Marcos had told her. She would have to confront Laura with that.

He strode towards the door, and Beth subconsciously thought how graceful his movements were for someone of his height and powerful build. Stealthy, she corrected herself. Like a jungle animal. He probably slept with one eye open as well.

He paused just as he was about to leave and threw over his shoulder, ‘By the way, if Angela calls, make some excuse. She’s being a bit of a nuisance.’

With that he clicked the door behind him and Beth frowned. Angela? Who on earth was Angela? She was obviously meant to know who Angela was and was expected to dispatch her efficiently out of his life. Was this all in the line of duty? Ha!

She spent the remainder of the afternoon ploughing through the stack of dictated tapes and messages in her tray, occasionally breaking off to take phone calls and to rummage through the computer files, gradually building up a picture of Marcos’s extensive business involvements.

There was much more to it than hotels, although they were by far the bulk of his business. Hotels spread across the world, from New York to Tokyo.

In addition he had investments in several electronics firms and software companies.

Had he built all this from nothing? Even if he had not, the man was clearly a dynamo in the concrete jungle.

When she next looked at her watch, it had gone seven o’clock and she hastily packed up. This, she reminded herself, was only a temporary excursion into the Adrino corporation. Filling in time until Laura could take over. It wouldn’t do to start becoming too involved.

Now she understood why her sister had been so keen to keep her feet in the company.

She made her way back on the Underground to Laura’s flat, which was in Swiss Cottage. It was a rented apartment. Very comfortable and large enough really for two people, but lacking in character. Nothing like her little place, but then you never had the incentive to do anything with property that did not belong to you, she supposed.

Laura, anyway, had never been terribly houseproud. While she could spend hours browsing in an antique shop, Laura had always been more than happy to flit from boutique to boutique, spending all her money on clothes.

And it showed, Beth thought wryly, as she prepared herself a light meal of tuna and French bread. Her sister’s wardrobe was about five times the size of hers and the clothes were way out of her price range.

As soon as she had eaten, she telephoned her sister, waiting in frustration as she heard the flat ringing tone. Surely Laura wouldn’t be out living it up, for heaven’s sake? She hardly knew a soul in Cambridge. Beth herself only had a handful of good friends there. She had told them that she was going to be away for a while and that her sister would be looking after her flat, but none of them knew any of the details and she didn’t care for the thought of Laura spilling them unwittingly.

Her train of thought was broken by Laura’s voice at the end of the line.

‘Beth,’ she heard the voice distantly, and felt a sudden pang of longing to be back in her flat in Cambridge and far away from this dreadful affair. ‘How was your first day at work?’ There was a brief pause, then she continued anxiously, ‘You made out all right, didn’t you?’

‘Oh, none of your colleagues recognised anything amiss,’ Beth began. ‘They commented on the change of hairstyle but that was about all, and I’ve been doing a lot of work getting myself up to the mark on your work.’

‘You will remember that it’s not permanent, won’t you?’

Beth smiled. ‘Of course I will. Believe me, working for Marcos Adrino, invigorating though the work might be, isn’t my cup of tea.’

She heard her sister gasp down the line and her smile broadened. She could imagine Laura’s expression of horror that she had been plunged into the deep end so suddenly.

‘But he’s not back in England until the end of the week,’ she wailed.

‘Well, then, he’s obviously more unpredictable than you thought. He was there when I got in, and I don’t have to tell you that I almost had a heart attack when I heard his voice from behind me.’ She shivered involuntarily.

‘What did you do? What did you say? You didn’t give the game away, did you?’ Laura’s voice had risen to a panicky squeak.

‘No, and don’t get so excited, for heaven’s sake. Not in your condition.’ She sat down on the sofa, curling her legs underneath her, her eyes absent-mindedly wandering over the television which she had switched on earlier, having turned down the volume to make the phone call. It was a cheap thriller of some sort, and the entire cast seemed to be wearing expressions of either bewilderment or guilt.