The Marriage Solution

‘It’s the total collapse of a certain economy that your father assured me was one hundred per cent solid,’ he said coolly. ‘I have invested a vast amount of money at his persuasion and within the last few months, too. I’ve been made to look ridiculous, Miss White, and I can’t say it appeals.’

‘But—’ she stared at him desperately ‘—he wouldn’t have done it on purpose, would he? No one’s perfect.’

‘“No one’s”—?’ He held her eyes for several seconds before shaking his head again. ‘This whole morning is fast beginning to resemble Alice Through the Looking Glass.’

A movement in the outer office caught his eye and he pressed the buzzer on his desk as he glanced towards the door. A second or two later, one beautifully coiffured head appeared round the door. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Reef, I had to...’ The well-bred voice died as the woman glanced in Katie’s direction.

‘Two coffees, please, Jacqueline, and hold all calls,’ Carlton Reef said quietly.

‘Oh, but I can’t—’ Katie glanced at him as he raised enquiring eyebrows. ‘I’ve got a taxi waiting for me in the street. I can‘t—’

‘Pay it off, Jacqueline.’ He settled further into his seat as he raised one hand thoughtfully under his chin. ‘And phone... What hospital is your father in?’ he asked Katie abruptly. She told him quietly as her cheeks burnt scarlet. He thought she was lying; how could he think that? ‘Tell them I want to speak to a Dr Lambeth,’ he instructed his secretary quietly, ‘and do it discreetly, there’s a good girl.’

It was the first time that Katie had been able to examine him without having his piercing grey eyes trained on her and as she looked at him, really looked at him for the first time, she had to admit in a tiny, detached part of her brain that he really was devastatingly good-looking in a hard, macho sort of way.

His skin was dark, with the sort of even tan that suggested a recent holiday somewhere very hot and very expensive, and the dark grey eyes were fringed with short jetblack lashes under heavy dark brows. Big, broad shoulders suggested an impressive body under the beautifully cut suit and she had already seen that he was tall—well over six feet. And he was as hard as iron. She stiffened as the razor-sharp eyes switched back to her. He was the sort of man her father would respect and admire and whom she loathed.

‘Now—’ he didn’t smile as the secretary shut the door without a sound and they were left alone ‘—why exactly did you feel it necessary to come here?’

‘You phoned.’ She stared at him with a mixture of bewilderment and anger. ‘You made it clear that my father would be in some sort of trouble if he didn’t—’

‘He’s in deep trouble already, Miss White, and I’m afraid there is nothing you can do about it.’ There wasn’t a trace of compassion in the deep voice and she knew, as she stared into the implacable, cold features, actual hate for another human being for the first time in her life. ‘I am not sure of my facts yet, so I do not intend to say much more, but from the little I do know about this unfortunate episode it would seem to suggest that your father did not do the homework he was paid to do. Supposition is not an option in the market-place and for this to happen without any prior warning...’ He shrugged eloquently. ‘Something smells.’

‘Are you saying that my father was dishonest?’ she asked hotly. ‘Because if you are—’

The buzzer on his desk interrupted further conversation and, as he took the call his secretary had put through, his face was blank and composed. It was obviously from Dr Lambeth and by the time he replaced the receiver, some minutes later, the dark face was thoughtful, although she had been unable to comprehend anything from his side of the conversation. As he finished the call his secretary knocked quietly and entered with the coffee, her face smooth and expressionless.

‘Thank you, Jacqueline.’ He glanced up once, busying himself with the tray. ‘Can you arrange for the car to be brought to the main entrance in ten minutes, please?’

‘Yes, Mr Reef.’

Something had been said during that phone call, something disturbing and relevant to her, Katie thought suddenly as she stared into the cool poker face opposite. ‘Is my father all right?’ she asked quietly. ‘He isn’t worse?’

‘No.’ He handed her a cup of coffee and gestured towards the milk and sugar. ‘Help yourself.’

‘What did Dr Lambeth say?’ she persisted, the trickle of unease gathering steam by the second. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me, I know it.’

He stared at her for a good fifteen seconds before replying and she knew she was right. There was something—she could read it in the opaque blankness of his eyes. ‘This is really nothing to do with me,’ he said quietly. ‘I feel it would be better if your father’s friend explained in the circumstances, Miss White.’

‘What circumstances?’ She could feel her voice rising but there was nothing she could do about it as sheer undiluted panic gripped her insides. ‘He’s worse? He’s not...’ She stared at him with huge eyes.

‘No, nothing like that.’ He waved his hand at her almost irritably. ‘I’m satisfied that whatever your father did he did out of ignorance, incidentally. Not that that makes the results any different but—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘Why the hell did you have to come here today anyway?’ he growled savagely.

‘Why?’ She glared at him, more angry than she could remember being in her whole life. ‘Because you threatened me, that’s why. You said—’

‘I know what I said.’ He stood up in one sharp movement and walked over to the huge plate-glass window where he stood with his back to her, looking down on the ant-like creatures below in the busy London street. ‘I just didn’t expect you to come here hotfoot like some guardian angel, that’s all.’

‘Well, all that could have been averted if you’d taken my call,’ she said stiffly as her face burned still more. He was a monster, she thought, an absolute monster.

‘Possibly.’ He still didn’t turn round. ‘Well, perhaps the news would be better coming from a stranger, after all. I don’t know. At least you would have some time to prepare yourself.’

‘Mr Reef, you’re frightening me,’ she said in a very small voice and, at that, he did turn, swinging round to see her sitting on the edge of her chair, hands clasped together and face as white as a sheet. ‘Whatever it is—could you just tell me?’ she asked slowly.

‘Your father is bankrupt.’ He had taken a deep breath before he spoke but the smoky grey eyes didn’t leave her face. ‘He’s lost the business, the house, the cars, every penny he owns in this deal. He’s just unburdened himself to Dr Lambeth and asked him to let all interested parties know.’

All interested parties? Somehow that hurt more than anything else could have done. She lived at home, spoke to him every day, shared little moments of his life and he hadn’t even hinted that things were bad. What had she ever done that her own father disliked her so much, trusted her so little? What sort of person did he think she was?

‘Miss White, did you hear me?’ He moved round the desk to stand in front of her, before kneeling and bringing his face into line with hers. ‘He had suspected the worst for days but seeing it in black and white in the newspaper brought the heart attack on, so I understand. The house is mortgaged up to the hilt, there are debts mounting skyhigh—’

‘I understand.’ She stopped him with a tiny wave of her hand as she spoke through stiff lips. ‘And he bore all this alone; he didn’t say a word to anyone.’

‘He’s a businessman, Katie.’ She wasn’t aware that he had spoken her name as her mind struggled to comprehend what he had told her. Their beautiful home that had been in her father’s family for generations... The loss of that alone would kill him, she knew it. ‘He has to make decisions that are sometimes difficult—’

‘He’s my father.’ She raised her head to stare at him, her eyes drowning in the whiteness of her face. ‘He should have been able to talk about it with me. What else are families for if not to share the hard times? If he could have told me, trusted me, he might not be in hospital now connected to a mass of wires and tubes—’

She wasn’t aware that her voice had risen into a shrill shriek, but when the outer door burst open and the secretary rushed in she was conscious of a stinging slap across her face as Carlton Reef pulled her back from hysteria before lifting her body into his arms and signalling for the woman to leave with a sharp movement of his head.

‘It’s all right; shush now, shush...’ He was sitting in the chair she had been occupying with her cradled on his lap as she moaned her anguish out loud, the hopelessness of endless years of trying to win her father’s love and approval culminating in the devastating knowledge that he could have died and she wouldn’t have known why. He hadn’t wanted her, hadn’t reached out, hadn’t needed even a word of comfort from the daughter he seemed to despise so much.

‘Why didn’t he tell me?’ she asked again, her head buried in the folds of his jacket. ‘He should have told me.’

‘He didn’t want to worry you,’ Carlton said comfortingly, somewhere over her head. ‘That’s natural in a father.’

‘No.’ She struggled away from him as she desperately tried to compose herself, suddenly horrified at the position she had put herself in. There was nothing natural about her father but she couldn’t tell this man that—he wouldn’t understand. She had never known her father share the smallest thing with her, never felt a fatherly hug, never had anyone to dry her tears as all her friends had. ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ she said weakly. ‘I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have come. I didn’t know—’

‘Look, sit down and have your coffee.’ He had risen as she had moved away and now took her arm gently, pushing her back down in the seat as he passed a cup to her. ‘Drink that and then I’ll run you home. It’s been a tremendous shock for you.’

‘I don’t want it.’ She stood up again and faced him, her face drawn and pale. ‘And I’ll make my own way home, Mr Reef.’ She felt as if she could die of embarrassment at the ridiculous picture she made. Here she was, in the very centre of the hive that made up London’s busy business world, behaving like some brainless schoolgirl. What on earth was he thinking and why, oh, why, had she come? She must have been mad, quite mad, but she hadn’t been thinking straight. In fact, she hadn’t been thinking at all!

She bit her lower lip hard. She’d made a bad situation well nigh impossible. ‘I’m sorry about all this,’ she said stiffly to the hard, handsome face watching her so intently. ‘I thought that if I came to see you and explained that my father was ill you would be able to wait a few days, that things could be sorted...’ Her voice trailed away at the expression on his face. If cynical mockery could go hand in hand with reluctant sympathy then that was what she was seeing.

‘And instead you found the very roof over your head was threatened,’ he intervened softly. ‘I do understand your predicament, Miss White. I’m not quite such an ogre as you seem to think.’

‘No?’ She faced him square-an now, a combination of shock and crucifyingly painful hurt making her speak her mind in a way she would never have done normally. ‘Well, as you’ve pointed out, our worlds are very different, Mr Reef, and your standards and those of my father are not mine. The lust for power and wealth that masquerades as ambition is not for me.’

‘I see.’ His face had closed against her as she had spoken and now his mouth was grim. ‘But, unless I am very much mistaken, you have enjoyed the benefits of this world that you seem to despise so much for a good many years without your conscience being too troubled?’ His eyebrows rose mockingly. ‘Or perhaps you live in a little wooden hut at the end of your father’s property and indulge in hair-shirts and a monastic form of life?’

‘Of course I don’t.’ Amazingly the confrontation was making her feel better, quelling the panic and fear that had gripped her since he had told her of their changed circumstances as fierce anger at his mockery left no room for any other emotion. ‘And I am grateful to my father for all he’s done for me—my education, our home, all the “benefits” you could no doubt list as well as I could. But—’ she raised her chin and the large, clear hazel eyes that stared into his were steady ‘—I can manage without them without it being the end of the world. I don’t need them in the same way that you do, Mr Reef.’

‘Don’t you indeed?’ His face was dark with an emotion she’d rather not dwell on now, and he crossed his arms as he leant back against the window, almost as though he needed to keep them anchored to his body rather than round her neck, she reflected silently. ‘And how do you know what I need, Miss White? To my knowledge we have never - met before today.’

‘I know your type.’

‘My “type”?’ be barked angrily. ‘My—’ He broke off as he fought visibly for control before taking a deep breath and laughing harshly, the sound grating in the quiet air. ‘You really do take the biscuit! You barge your way in here, flinging insults around as though they were confetti and then accuse me—’

He broke off again and shook his head before turning from her so that his hard features were in profile. ‘You’ve had a bad day and I would guess that it’s going to get worse. Let’s leave it at that, and despite the low opinion you obviously have of me, I would not dream of letting you find your own way home after the news I’ve just given you. The car will be outside now. Shall we?’

He turned and extended his hand to the door. She remained staring at him for one long moment before she moved forward. He was angry, very angry; that much she could see and she really couldn’t take on any more now. It was simpler to accept this favour, however much it grated.

‘Mr Reef?’ His secretary’s voice held a note of panic as he walked with Katie through the outer office, shrugging his big grey overcoat over his shoulders as he did so. ‘You haven’t forgotten the management meeting you called earlier? They’re already assembling in the small boardroom—’

‘Cancel it.’ Her employer turned at the door to fix her with that cool gaze. ’Re-schedule for two this afternoon.’

‘Is there a number where you can be reached?’

‘No—’ he was already shutting the door as he replied to the slightly dazed voice ‘—but I won’t be long.’

‘You don’t have to do this.’ As the silent lift sped swiftly downwards she ventured a glance at him through her eyelashes and then wished she hadn’t. He looked mad—more than mad, she thought weakly, and she hadn’t fully realised just how big and powerful that tall, lean body was until the close confines of the lift had emphasised it so threateningly. And his aftershave was gorgeous...

What was she doing, thinking such things at a time like this? she asked herself faintly, and about a man like him, too—the sort that populated her father’s world in droves and the kind she had always abhorred. She was in shock. She leant limply against the wall of the lift and took a long, silent breath. That was it. That had to be it. Either that or she’d lost it completely.

He had ignored her hesitant voice as though he hadn’t heard it but now the cold grey eyes pierced her, the expression in them anything but friendly. ‘You aren’t going to faint on me, are you,’ he asked grimly, ‘on top of everything else?’

‘No, I’m not.’ The adrenalin that sent fierce colour into her cheeks and an angry sparkle into her eyes also brought her jerking off the lift wall to stand rigid and stiff as they reached the ground floor. ‘I’ve never fainted in my life.’

‘Quite a formidable lady.’ The thread of laughter in the mocking voice was unforgivable in the circumstances, and sheer anger kept her head up and her back straight as they walked through the reception area.

Out of the corner of her eye she was aware of one or two interested but veiled glances in their direction, but just keeping up with his large strides was more than enough to contend with for the moment. She had absolutely no intention of following in his wake like a whipped puppy, she thought tightly as they reached the massive automatic doors together. He was the epitome of the arrogant, dominant male but the Tarzan-Jane concept of male and female had never appealed less than at this moment.

The icy March wind was carrying chips of sleet on its breath as they left the hothouse warmth of the big building and she pulled her knee-length anorak more tightly round her as a big dark blue Mercedes purred to a halt in front of them, complete with chauffeur in matching uniform.

‘In you get.’ He opened the door for her and then followed her into the immaculate interior in one movement. ‘Your address?’ She gave it in a small voice that tried to be cool and assured but was merely... small.

‘Are you going to the hospital?’ They had travelled some minutes in complete silence but she had never been more aware of another human being in her life.

‘Later perhaps.’ Why couldn’t he have been old and bald? she asked herself as she turned her head to meet his gaze. A sympathetic uncle-figure who would have met her halfway? ‘My father doesn’t—‘ She corrected herself quickly. ‘The doctor thought it better to keep him quiet for the moment.’

‘Right.’ The intuitive grey eyes had narrowed at the slip but he made no comment, his face bland, and he turned to look out of the window into the grey world outside as the big car moved swiftly through the mid-morning traffic.

The journey home was accomplished in about half the time the taxi had taken earlier and as they drew into the smart pebbled drive she found herself looking, as though for the first time, at the house she had been born in. Mellow, honey-coloured stone, leaded windows and a massive thatched roof stared impassively back; the huge oak tree that stood in the middle of the bowling-green-smooth lawn at the front of the house was as yet bare and naked against the winter sky.

‘You have a beautiful home.’ She jumped visibly as he spoke, and dragged her eyes away from the sight that had suddenly become so poignant with a tremendous effort.

‘Not for much longer, it would seem,’ she said flatly as she held out one small, slim hand for him to shake. ‘Thank you for bringing me home, Mr Reef. No doubt my father’s solicitors will be hearing from yours in due course.’

‘No doubt.’ He hesitated for the merest second and then, instead of giving the handshake she had expected, leant forward and brushed her lips with his own. As she leapt backwards like a scalded cat he climbed out of the car and offered his hand, his eyebrows raised in a distinctly sardonic tilt. ‘Allow me.’

She gave him her hand reluctantly—a fact which the dark eyebrows took full note of—and slid out of the car with as much dignity as she could muster, considering her cheeks were glowing bright red and her mouth was burning from the brief contact with his.

‘Goodbye,’ she said again, a little breathlessly this time, as she stepped backwards a few paces from his large bulk and edged towards the house.

‘Goodbye.’ He didn’t smile or move and after a split-second of indecision she turned and ran up the steps to the front door, her only desire being to get into the safety of the house.

Mrs Jenkins must have heard the car because even as she fumbled in her bag for her key the door opened and she almost fell into the hall in her eagerness to get inside. ‘Katie?’ Mrs Jenkins peered out into the drive before slowly shutting the door and hurrying to her side. ‘Who was that man?’ she asked worriedly. ‘And why was he looking at the house like that?’

‘Like what?’ Katie asked weakly, the relief at being home overwhelming. She didn’t know why but during the last few seconds in the car she had felt undeniably threatened—tenifyingly so.

‘Like...’ Mrs Jenkins’ voice faded away as she shook her grey head bewilderedly. ‘I don’t rightly know, but it wasn’t normal.’

‘He’s not a normal man, Mrs Jenkins,’ Katie said unsteadily just as the phone began to ring. It was the first of many calls that day from her father’s colleagues and business contacts who were already beginning to demand their pound of flesh.

CHAPTER TWO

‘KATIE?’ Her sister’s voice was more irritated than concerned when they finally managed to contact her in her hotel in Monte Carlo later that afternoon. ‘What’s all this about Dad being taken ill? He’s never been ill in his life.’

‘Well, he is now,’ Katie said quietly, carefully keeping any trace of emotion out of her voice.

Jennifer was a duplicate of their father temperamentwise, scorning any show of sentiment or warmth, single-minded when it came to her career as a top reporter for one of the national tabloids, and utterly ruthless when it came to having her own way. At twenty-eight, she was five years older than Katie and well able to afford a luxurious flat in the heart of London, her own expensive sports car and a wardrobe of up-to-the-minute clothes that she changed like her nail varnish.

‘It’s his heart.’

‘His heart?’ Her sister’s voice was scornful. ‘I didn’t know he had one!’

‘Jennifer!’ Katie’s voice expressed her outrage.

Jennifer and her father had always held a mutual respect for each other’s inexorable character while recognising that they were too alike to get on if they saw much of each other. The sort of comment that Jennifer had just made was exactly the type her father would have given if the situation had been reversed, and neither would have taken umbrage, but just now... Just now she couldn’t take it, Katie thought painfully.

Despite his wishes, she had been to see her father after lunch, stopping for just a minute or two and driving away shocked beyond measure at the change which had been wrought in him in just a few hours. He had been in a semidoze, never really waking, and to see his strong, lean and powerful body still and lifeless under the clinical hospital sheets had hurt more than she would have thought possible.

‘I’m sorry, Katie.’ Jennifer’s voice was impatient, which made the apology null and void. ‘How is he, then?’

‘Hard to say.’ She wasn’t going to make this easy for her, Katie thought with an uncharacteristic flare of anger—besides which, it was true. ‘He had a heart attack this morning but then, just before I got there this afternoon, he had another one. Lambeth said he’ll be OK once they get the medication balanced but, as in most things medical, nothing is for certain.’

‘Oh.’ She could tell the news wasn’t to her sister’s liking. ‘Well, I’ve nearly finished here so I suppose I could fly in in the next day or two,’ Jennifer said reluctantly.

‘There’s something else.’ Katie took a deep breath in preparation for the explosion. ‘Dad’s bankrupt.’

‘What?’Now she really had her attention, Katie thought grimly. ‘What do you mean “bankrupt”? You’re kidding me.’

‘I’d hardly joke at a time like this,’ Katie said quietly. ‘He’s mortgaged the house, the business and even the weekend cottage he bought for Mum originally, and there is an absolute mountain of debts. The cars, his boat, everything will have to go. I saw the solicitor this afternoon after I left the hospital.’

‘Oh, brilliant, just brilliant.’ Her sister’s voice was scathing. ‘What happened to the Midas touch he was always so proud of, then?’

‘Well, I think he’s paid for the loss of it, don’t you?’ Katie ground out through clenched teeth as she strove to keep her temper. ‘It was the knowledge of how bad things were that brought on the heart attack.’

‘Well, there’s no room in my flat for anyone else,’ Jennifer said quickly, after a moment’s pause. ‘I’ve got someone living in at the moment.’

‘What’s his name?’ Katie asked tightly. Her sister was the original liberated woman, taking a new man into her life and her bed every few months and then kicking him out when she got bored, which was usually fairly quickly.

‘Donald,’ Jennifer drawled dispassionately. ‘Hell, Katie, Dad’ll hate the humiliation of bankruptcy, won’t he? Not to mention losing the house. He really is a fool—’

‘Don’t you dare say that when you see him, Jen,’ Katie hissed furiously. ‘Not in words or one of those expressions you do so well. I’ll murder you if you do.’