Only Lover. Кэрол Мортимер

‘Then you should call me by my first name.'

      Farrah laughed brokenly. This couldn't be happening to her! ‘No one's going to believe this, Mr Falcone—Joel then,’ she said at his dark look. ‘No one who actually knows us, especially Miss Bennett.'

      ‘They'll believe it,’ he said firmly. ‘If you don't know that then you must be as innocent as you look, which no one could ever be. All those baby waves and trusting green eyes!’ he said in disgust. ‘What do you imagine all the girls down in your office are thinking at this moment? Well, I'll tell you. They probably think I'm making love to you right now. According to rumour, no woman is safe left alone with me.'

      ‘They—they wouldn't think that,’ she denied uncertainly.

      ‘Sure they would. Why not? You're beautiful, in a childish sort of way. And like I said, no woman is considered safe alone with me.'

      ‘But they wouldn't—–’ she shook her head.

      ‘Of course they damn well would! And to convince them even more you're going to leave the building with me right now.'

      ‘I am not!’ Farrah said indignantly. ‘It's only three o'clock. I can't just leave without telling anyone where I'm going.'

      ‘I don't intend that you should. That wouldn't benefit us in any way.’ He pressed down the intercom. ‘Cathy, get me Angie Preston.’ He turned to Farrah again. ‘This should set the tongues wagging.'

      ‘What do you mean to do—–?'

      The telephone buzzed to interrupt her and Joel Falcone picked up the receiver. ‘Angie? Joel Falcone,’ he said shortly. ‘No, no, it isn't that. We'll get together about that some other time. I just wanted to tell you that Farrah Halliday won't be back in the department today. No, she isn't ill,’ his eyes silently mocked her. ‘She happens to be leaving with me.'

      Farrah almost got up and ran then. It had started already, this deception that would become more and more involved. And she hadn't even agreed to it! But she had no choice in the matter. Joel Falcone had her trapped, and he knew it.

      ‘That's right,’ he continued, seemingly unaware of Farrah's inner turmoil. ‘And she may be a little late in the morning too. Right. We'll talk about that other matter at a later date.’ He rang off.

      Farrah's eyes filled with unshed tears. ‘This is terrible,’ she said huskily. ‘I can't go through with it.'

      ‘Wouldn't you rather it happened this way than to have everyone know your father is nothing but a common thief?'

      ‘He isn't a common thief! He needed that money, desperately.'

      ‘So you've told me. I'd be interested to hear the reason.'

      Anger sparked swiftly at his taunting voice. ‘Well, you aren't going to. My father is twice the man you'll ever be. And do you know why? I'll tell you why. Because he loves. You couldn't love anyone or anything—you wouldn't know how to. But my father would and does, and for someone he loves he's willing to do anything. You're just a machine, Mr Falcone, a cold unfeeling machine!'

      ‘But a rich one,’ he said dryly, completely unmoved by her outburst. ‘And in this case it means I hold all the right cards. Wouldn't you agree?'

      ‘I hate you, Mr Falcone. I hate you!'

      ‘No, you don't, Farrah. From this moment on you're going to love me, or at least pretend to. It's something I've found women are good at.'

      ‘I couldn't even pretend to love you,’ Farrah said hotly. ‘You're hateful!'

      ‘So you would prefer that I prosecute your father?'

      ‘No! You know I wouldn't,’ she said miserably.

      Joel Falcone sighed impatiently. ‘You can't have it both ways, you know. Go through with this pretence and I drop the charges against your father, plus forget the twenty-five thousand pounds he owes me. You know the alternative.'

      ‘You consider this charade worth twenty-five thousand pounds!'

      He nodded. ‘I simply don't want Laura involved in my business affairs any longer. No doubt she'll want more than the market value for those shares.'

      ‘And won't you mind paying it?'

      He shrugged. ‘Why should I? She'll be out of my life, finally.'

      ‘That's some friendship you have there,’ she said dryly.

      ‘That's right, but I've just explained that to you.’ He stood up in one fluid movement. ‘Are you ready to leave now?'

      Farrah also stood up, moving jerkily to the door. ‘My—my bag and jacket. I left them in the office. I can't just leave them there.'

      ‘That's all right. Angie wanted to talk to me about something anyway. You can collect your things while I talk to her.'

      ‘Oh, but I—–'

      ‘Do it, Farrah!’ he ordered impatiently. ‘Make your mind up to this, because once we step outside this room there'll be no turning back. Once you're committed you will follow this through to the end. And no one is to know it's pretence. You understand, no one! Not even your father.'

      ‘But I have to tell him,’ she said, horrified. ‘I can't let him think that I—–'

      ‘Not even your father, Farrah!’ he repeated firmly. ‘You can tell him when it's all over and not before. It shouldn't take long, a couple of months, no more.'

      ‘A couple of months!'

      He looked at her with steady blue eyes, collecting a burgundy-coloured leather jacket from what appeared to be a cloakroom and shrugging his powerful shoulders unhurriedly inside. ‘A couple of weeks would hardly be convincing. The first few weeks we'll just make sure we're seen together in all the right places, later we'll progress to the occasional night spent together at my apartment.'

      Farrah looked at his open-mouthed. ‘I couldn't do that! What would everyone think if I stayed at your apartment? What would my father think!'

      ‘Exactly what they're supposed to, I should imagine. Believe me, Laura won't be able to stand too much of that sort of treatment. She likes to think that any man she wants will come running when she calls.'

      ‘But you won't,’ she derided.

      ‘Not any more—if I ever did.'

      ‘You aren't the faithful type at all, are you?’ she saw his mouth tighten angrily. ‘I'm sorry, but you did say I wasn't to be sulky and angry.'

      ‘I didn't say you had to be rude instead. And no, I'm not the faithful type. I've yet to meet a woman who can make me feel possessive enough to feel the need to be a one-woman man.'

      ‘You consider women are only to be used and not loved?’ she asked interestedly.

      He gave a mocking smile. ‘Oh, I love them.'

      Farrah blushed. ‘I don't mean physically.'

      ‘I know that,’ he smiled at her embarrassment, a mocking smile that taunted. He shrugged. ‘No woman has ever proved to me to be any different, you're all money-grasping. A present pays for many things, but without them you get nothing.'

      Farrah shook her head. ‘That isn't true, at least not on my part. No man has ever given me presents for services rendered.'

      Joel Falcone's eyes raked mercilessly over her casual appearance. ‘Seeing you dressed like that, I can believe it.'

      ‘Well, you don't exactly look the part of the debonair millionaire yourself,’ she retorted tartly.

      ‘Perhaps not,’ he agreed. ‘Okay, let's go.’ He put a casual arm about her slim shoulders and felt her stiffen. ‘Once we step outside this door,’ he reminded her.

      Farrah forced herself to accept his touch, resisting the impulse to move away from