It was those last few words that did it, driving from her the last vestiges of self-control, her hands balled into two angry fists, as she turned to him, angry colour burning up under her skin.
‘I’d rather die than let you touch me, never mind possess me!’ Her voice was shaking with the pent-up force of her anger. She was far too wound up to be aware of the red tide sweeping under Luke’s own skin, or the rage burning blackly in his eyes, all her attention concentrated on showing him in what contempt she held him—his meaningless threats, and his total misconception of her relationship with Bob. It was typical of a man like him to leap to such a conclusion, she thought in disgust. No doubt he had enjoyed the sort of relationship he had accused her of having with Bob, with countless numbers of women. It must be far easier to rid oneself of them when one grew bored, if they had merely been ‘bought’. Well, no man would ever buy her! Love was the only possible reason for permitting a man sexual intimacy, and she already knew to her cost that such an emotion simply did not exist, and if that meant that she must go through the rest of her life alone, then that was what she would do. A kept woman! Her mouth turned downward in a bitter grimace.
‘So you’d rather die, would you?’ The low, almost snarled words held a dangerous threat, but Genista was oblivious to it. Her face was paper-white, her eyes as dark as pansies within its white triangle. No man had ever spoken to her the way Luke Ferguson had just done, and the shock of his accusations had almost frozen her ability to defend herself.
‘And what about Bob’s wife? Or doesn’t she come into your coldhearted calculations?’ Luke continued in obvious disgust. ‘Don’t you care that you’re breaking up her marriage—stealing her husband?’
It was on the tip of Genista’s tongue to tell him that far from stealing another woman’s husband, she had always made a rule of avoiding any man who she knew to be involved with another woman. She had been too hurt by a man’s duplicity once before to risk the same sort of pain again.
‘At least he isn’t completely under your thumb,’ Luke added abrasively. ‘Otherwise he’d be sharing that apartment with you.’
His bitter contempt; the insults he was heaping upon her combined to make her say recklessly,
‘Perhaps I don’t want him to. Perhaps I …’
‘Perhaps you value your freedom too much to give it up for any man,’ Luke interrupted cuttingly. ‘That’s the sort of woman you are, isn’t it, Genista? Using your beauty like a weapon, always taking and never giving. What happens when you grow tired of Bob? Or was that what last night was really all about? Are you already searching for his successor?’
This time Genista’s self-control snapped completely. The imprint of her fingers against Luke’s lean tanned cheek took a long time to fade, through white to red, and then brown again, and during those seemingly endless moments, he neither spoke nor moved, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.
She had behaved like a harpy, Genista thought wretchedly. What on earth had come over her? She prided herself on her cool control. Not even Richard, whose actions and words had surely been far more hurtful than Luke Ferguson’s contempt, had provoked her to violence. A terrible nausea rose up inside her as she stared at the marks of her fingers against Luke’s skin. Her legs seemed to turn to jelly, and she groped blindly for a chair.
‘You’re wrong. I …’
Her husky attempt at explanation and apology was swept aside.
‘No, you’re the one who’s wrong, Genista, if you think you can treat me the way you have done and get away with it.’
As though the scales had suddenly been wrenched from her eyes, she saw him for the first time as the man he was; a man who had built up a multi-million pound financial empire virtually from nothing; a man notorious in business circles for his single-minded determination when it came to getting his own way; a man whom she had grossly humiliated and insulted, and who was now towering above her menacingly … a man with whom she was completely alone …
She stepped backwards on legs that trembled, longing to run, but mesmerised like a petrified rabbit by the dark grey eyes.
‘Not so valiant now, are we?’ Luke asked softly, moving as stealthily as a jungle cat.
Terror swept her, drawing her down into a black vortex, paralysing her limbs completely.
‘Oh no,’ he continued in that same frighteningly steady voice, ‘I’m not going to touch you now, Genista. But one day I shall. I fully intend to make you pay for last time, to honour the promises you made me albeit only with your eyes and body.’ His mouth twisted in a cynical smile. ‘And don’t try to pretend that you didn’t. You were taking me for a ride, Genista, but now I’m in control of the train and the ride won’t be over until I say so.’
He was playing with her like a cat with a mouse, Genista thought bitterly, deliberately tormenting her, knowing that because she was his employee he had a certain amount of power over her.
‘You don’t strike me as a man who would compete for any woman,’ she said bravely, trying to appear unconcerned. ‘Especially one he knows to be the mistress of someone else.’
For a moment she thought he was going to strike her. Her body stiffened in fear, and his eyes gleamed satirically, the bitter hunger she had thought she saw there seconds before banished so completely that she thought it must have been a trick of the light.
‘I’m a businessman,’ he reminded her coolly, ‘and I don’t like being cheated out of my just re-wards. I wanted you the moment I saw you, Genista—you’re a very beautiful woman—and I fully intend to have you!’
With that calm declaration he turned on his heel, leaving her alone in the office trying to come to terms with her chaotic thoughts. The man was unbelievable—insane even! He was behaving as though he were a feudal baron with rights of droit du seigneur over her. She knew she had every right to feel furiously angry, but for some reason the confrontation with him seemed to have drained her of the energy to feel anything apart from a panicky fear that stuck in her throat, causing her heart to beat nervously as she contemplated the words he had thrown at her before leaving the room.
Her fingers trembled as she dialled the foyer number of the flats. George answered almost immediatedly, assuring her that he had changed her lock. It must be the relief that made her feel so close to tears, she decided when she hung up, because certainly it was not like her to be so emotional.
When Bob returned from lunch she asked him if he could spare the time to accompany her to her garage.
‘I’m terrified of driving the car for the first time,’ she admitted to him ruefully, ‘and I badly need some moral support.’
‘You should have asked our new boss,’ Jilly interrupted with a grin. ‘He’s really smitten, didn’t you think so, Bob?’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous, Jilly!’ Genista cut in before Bob could speak. ‘I’ve already told you, you’ve got romance on the brain!’
‘All right, tell me about your new car instead,’ Jilly temporised. ‘What make is it?’
‘A Mercedes,’ Genista told her, reluctant to sound as though she were bragging about her new possession. ‘It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time, and at last I’ve decided to take the plunge. It’s a convertible—a sort of sports model, and I want Bob to come with me to pick it up. I’m terrified of driving it for the first time.’
‘A Mercedes?’ Jilly squeaked, in obvious awe. ‘You lucky thing!’ She said it without any malice, adding with a grin, ‘A sports car too—what happens