Flight of Fantasy

Flight of Fantasy Valerie Parv Dynamic, unfeeling and iron-willed…Slade Benedict was all those things–but given that he was also Eden Lyle's boss, she found it impossible to protest when he commandeered her holiday plans.But what she hadn't counted on was the disturbing attraction between them. Eden knew she must keep him at arm's length–not only to protect herself but also to keep him from discovering the secret of her past…. “You are jealous, aren’t you?” Slade mocked (#u932432b8-5fcf-5c7a-82f2-6309399f4d53)About the Author (#u9c14dc0e-af7d-59c4-9edb-ebf611d1644f)Title Page (#uee88e98e-f5a1-5c59-8966-bdf5d6342227)CHAPTER ONE (#udf4b4b64-efe1-5e02-ba28-7ec21bebad31)CHAPTER TWO (#u64a7b191-b780-5c0e-b63e-175e5776839c)CHAPTER THREE (#u3b1cbc22-8706-5558-8afa-3187fcf2e9e6)CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo) “You are jealous, aren’t you?” Slade mocked “Of course not,” Eden replied, shaking her head. “But I resent you having one rule for yourself and another for me.” “Then I must disabuse you of any such notion. For the duration of this trip, you’re my wife and I shall act accordingly.” A tremor swept through Eden. “H-how do you mean?” “I mean that the only woman I shall favor with my kisses will be you.” Valerle Parv was a successful journalist and nonfiction writer until she began writing for Harlequin Mills & Boon in 1982. Born in Shropshire, England, she grew up in Australia and now lives with her cartoonist husband and their cat—the office manager—in Sydney, New South Wales. She is a keen futurist, a Star Trek enthusiast, and her interests include traveling, restoring dollhouses and entertaining friends. Writing romance novels affirms her belief in love and happy endings. Flight of Fantasy Valerie Parv www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) CHAPTER ONE EDEN LYLE cupped a band over her free ear, straining to hear the telephone over the hubbub in the airport departure lounge. Suddenly her unfocused gaze was caught and held by an arresting figure striding purposefully through the throng. ‘It can’t be,’ she murmured. ‘Can’t be who?’ came the ungrammatical response down the line. Eden dragged her attention back to her call. ‘I thought I saw my boss a moment ago.’ Fiona’s chuckle crackled between them. ‘What would Slade Benedict be doing at Hobart Airport? I thought he was back at your office breaking in his new production assistant.’ ‘You mean his new male assistant,’ Eden said with heavy emphasis. Her shoulder-length ash-brown hair fell forward, hiding the hurt which sprang into her amethyst eyes. It was hard to accept that Slade had brought in a man from outside his corporate communications company to fill the job she had worked towards for months. ‘Hey, I thought this trip was supposed to cheer you up. Forget chauvinistic Mr Benedict.’ Eden’s sigh travelled down the phone. ‘You’re right as usual.’ Both of them knew how much Eden needed this break. Nothing had gone right lately, and now the pattern seemed set to continue. Only one flight was leaving Hobart this morning. Was Slade planning to be on it? ‘What is he doing here?’ she voiced her misgivings. ‘He might be meeting someone off the Melbourne flight,’ Fiona reasoned, trying to defuse the tension in Eden’s voice. Although she murmured agreement, Eden’s eyes remained fixed on the man. It probably wasn’t Slade at all. The fact that he stood a head taller than the people around him and his wide shoulders strained the impeccable lines of a designer business suit didn’t mean it was her boss. Lots of men were tall and broad. But they didn’t all move with the lithe grace of a predator stalking its terrain, she thought. The easy confidence of the man’s movements was disburbingly familiar, as was his gesture when he lifted a long-fingered hand to brush a strand of charcoal hair back behind one ear. ‘Eden, are you still there?’ At Fiona’s sharp tone, she made an effort to concentrate on the call which she had initiated, after all. ‘Yes, I’m still here. I wanted to be sure that Mum has settled down all right. Just lately, I’ve had the feeling that something’s bothering her, but she can’t or won’t tell me what it is.’ Fiona sighed. ‘Whatever it is, she’ll tell you when she’s ready. Now stop worrying. Shepherd House is the best place she could possibly be. I know, I worked there myself for a time and they have tons of expertise in genetic problems like your mother’s. Believe me, they’ll take excellent care of Peggy.’ ‘I don’t want her to be unhappy. I know we haven’t always been as close as I’d like but...’ ‘But she’d be even less happy if you don’t take this holiday,’ Fiona insisted. ‘Do you think she doesn’t know what a burden she’s become to you? Maybe that’s what she’s been trying to tell you.’ ‘She isn’t a burden,’ Eden denied hotly. ‘Although she’s a little difficult at times, she’s still my mother and I want the best for her.’ ‘As I’m sure she appreciates. But if the roles were reversed wouldn’t you want to give your daughter a break if you could?’ ‘I suppose so.’ Eden hadn’t considered it from her mother’s point of view. Given Peggy’s sometimes over-possessive behaviour, it had come as a surprise when she insisted that a small legacy be used to pay for a spell in a nursing home while Eden took a much needed holiday. Fiona had reduced her fees to the bare minimum, but paying her to look after Peggy during the day left nothing over for holidays, far less pay for full-time care while Eden went away. ‘You’ve been so good to us, Fiona,’ she said, her voice catching. ‘Get away with you.’ Fiona’s Scottish brogue coloured her voice, betraying her emotions. ‘Your mother was a pleasure to look after.’ ‘We’ll miss you,’ Eden added. ‘Don’t forget to send us a postcard from Scotland.’ ‘I’ll miss you, too.’ The nurse was taking a holiday of her own to visit relatives in her birthplace. ‘Send me a card yourself, if you aren’t too involved with some gorgeous Queensland hunk.’ ‘Fat chance,’ Eden laughed, but felt a pang as she hung up the phone. She had tried romance only once, with a man she’d met through work. Joshua Robinson had seemed like the ideal man for her, tender yet strong, and lots of fun to be with. Their dates had been limited to the times she could afford to pay Fiona for after-hours care for her mother. Joshua didn’t seem to mind, telling her how much he admired what she was doing for Peggy. ‘There aren’t many girls like you, Eden,’ he had told her admiringly. He was right in a sense. Not many girls had her problems to cope with. When Joshua found out what they were, the relationship had come to a sudden end. Anguish darkened her eyes. Telling herself she was better off without him didn’t help. The memories of the good times were too powerful. She’d been so sure of him. Just goes to show how little I know about love, she told herself, trying for flippancy and failing miserably. Darn it, Joshua’s rejection still hurt. He had no right to offer her a shining view of a shared future then make it conditional on her being perfect. Even assuring Joshua that her mother’s illness always skipped a generation hadn’t helped. He didn’t love her enough to accept her as she was. There it was in a nutshell. Maybe all men were like Joshua and her father, who had left the family while Eden was still a teenager, before her mother’s illness became apparent. He had missed the worst of Peggy’s gradual decline, which had only recently led to her requiring full-time nursing. If he couldn’t cope with Peggy’s possessive nature before she became ill he wouldn’t have fared much better afterwards, Eden acknowledged. Men! If they all required perfection from their women, she was probably better off without them. And that definitely included Slade Benedict, she resolved. Nevertheless, she found herself scanning the crowd for a broad-shouldered man, telling herself it was only to prove that he was a total stranger. To her mild chagrin, there was no sign of him. There was another surprise in store for her at the check-in counter when she handed over her suitcase and received her boarding pass. ‘There must be some mistake,’ she said to the attendant. ‘According to this, I’ve been allocated a seat in first class.’ The man glanced at the pass and back to his computer screen, punching keys with deft fingers. ‘No mistake, Miss Lyle. Everything’s in order. Enjoy your flight.’ ‘But...’ Behind her, the queue was lengthening and people stirred restively. A suitcase was dumped on to the check-point beside her, giving her little option but to move away from the counter, clutching the pass. She should be pleased to have been moved up into first class. The fare was more than double what she’d paid for her excursion ticket and she’d been charged no more. All the same, uneasiness etched a frown into the alabaster skin of her forehead, drawing curious glances from the people who eddied around her. There was also admiration in the looks. Her romantic, softly curving figure was set off to perfection in a new turquoise-spotted dress with matching white crop-topped jacket, a pert spotted hanky spilling from the breast pocket. She had been reluctant to spend the money for the outfit but now felt relieved. At least she wouldn’t look out of place among the first-class passengers. That was it! The economy section must have been overbooked, forcing the airline to upgrade some of the passengers. It was probably this very outfit which had prompted them to choose her. Relieved that she had solved the puzzle, she spun around, intending to return to the counter and thank the obliging clerk, only to cannon into a broad, masculine body. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she gasped as steely fingers clamped around her upper arms to steady her. ‘I wasn’t looking where I was going.’ ‘As it happens, you’re just the woman I’m looking for.’ A gasp tore from her throat as she recognised the voice and looked up into a pair of all too familiar grey-green eyes. She was so close that she could see the tracery of yellow lines which went from the pupils to the outer edges of his irises like the spokes of a wheel. The effect was mesmerising. The thought that she was the woman he was looking for left her momentarily speechless, until she realised he meant it in a business sense. Fool, she chided herself. Why else would a man like him want her? ‘Slade... I mean, Mr Benedict...’ she muttered when she finally summoned her voice. ‘Slade will do in the circumstances,’ he demurred. In what circumstances? Had she left something vital undone at the office? He still held her in a steadying grip, his long fingers firm around her arms. The heat travelled through her skin as if it had been touched by a branding iron. Without putting up an unseemly struggle she couldn’t twist free, so she willed herself to calmness. ‘I’m leaving in half an hour for the Sunshine Coast.’ ‘I know.’ ‘You do?’ As the words tumbled out she cursed her own stupidity. Of course he knew. He had approved her request for leave. She was annoyed by her own responses. He might be all-powerful over his employees but he had no right to detain her now, when her time was her own. ‘You said you were looking for me?’ she prompted, her tone cool to indicate that she didn’t welcome his intrusion. He glanced at the boarding pass she still clutched in nerveless fingers. As if she hadn’t spoken, he nodded tautly. ‘You’ve checked in already? Good. Let’s go somewhere we can talk.’ Releasing her at last, he turned away as if fully expecting her to follow him. Her annoyance grew and she stood her ground. ‘Did I leave something unfinished at the office?’ The question caught him by surprise. ‘Not that I know of.’ But at least he stood still, regarding her with ill-concealed impatience. ‘Then why do we need to talk? If it’s about the promotion, I’ve already apologised for what I said.’ He looked puzzled, then annoyed. But he couldn’t have forgotten her foolish outburst after she learned that he had appointed a man from outside the company to fill the production vacancy. She had been counting on the promotion to provide a much needed salary increase to give her mother a few extra luxuries. To have the job go to a man who didn’t even work for Benedict Communications had come as a bitter blow. She had said as much to her co-worker when the decision was announced. ‘Our male chauvinist boss strikes again,’ Denise, the researcher who worked with Eden, had responded as they helped themselves to coffee from the dispenser. Spooning sugar into her cup, Eden had regarded Denise with disbelief. ‘You don’t think he overlooked me because I’m female?’ Denise shrugged. ‘What other reason can there be? You have all the necessary qualifications. You’ve filled in as an assistant producer when someone’s ill or on holiday, and you have the seniority. As far as I can tell, your only flaw is your sex.’ ‘But that sort of discrimination is illegal.’ ‘Tell that to our fearless leader. You’ll notice there’s a dearth of female talent in the top echelons of his empire.’ Eden sipped her coffee thoughtfully. ‘I hadn’t noticed, but you’re right.’ “Therefore, Slade Benedict is allergic to putting women into top jobs.’ ‘He certainly isn’t allergic to women,’ Eden pointed out. In the social columns, Slade was regularly paired with some famous beauty or other. ‘Too true, but in the bedroom, not the boardroom.’ Denise’s irreverence was already making Eden feel better. ‘Slade Benedict prefers his women in the bedroom rather than the boardroom.’ She savoured the phrase. Since she couldn’t change her sex, it was less hurtful than being denied promotion because she wasn’t good enough. ‘It would be enlightening to know on what grounds you base your assessment,’ came a chilly voice close behind her. Denise’s appalled expression told Eden not only that Slade was there, but that he had heard every word. ‘I—er—none, really,’ she dissembled. She half turned to find him leaning against the wall with apparent indolence, his arms crossed over his broad chest. The seeming casualness of the pose was belied by the challenging fire which flashed in his grey eyes. He was waiting for her to back her accusation of his sexism with facts, but she had none. Backing down wouldn’t help either, instinct told her. She had got herself into this so there was nothing for it but to brazen it out. ‘We were discussing the lack of females in the top ranks of the firm,’ she said, unconsciously straightening to her full five feet seven inches. It still left her a good four inches short of meeting him eyeball to eyeball. Grudging respect flitted across his face before his gaze hardened. ‘Whom I appoint to my management team is hardly your concern, Miss Lyle. I presume this has something to do with your missing out on the production appointment?’ She felt the ground giving way beneath her but had come too far to retreat now. ‘Yes, it does. My qualifications are the equal of those of the man you appointed to the job.’ ‘So you’ve decided that I rejected you because you’re a woman.’ His blatantly appraising gaze left her in no doubt that he was well aware of the fact, and she felt heat rising into her face. The assessment was so flagrantly sexual that her anger flared. How dared he treat her so disrespectfully? She opened her mouth to protest but the wind was taken out of her sails when he cut across her. ‘I see you object to being judged on the basis of your sex. Yet that’s precisely what you were doing to me a moment ago, was it not?’ It was true, she had been judging him, not on the facts but on pure hearsay. ‘You’re right and I apologise,’ she said unreservedly. ‘Accepted,’ he said evenly. ‘I approved your application for leave this morning, you’ll be glad to hear.’ ‘I hope it isn’t an inconvenient time for me to go,’ she said, seizing on the change of subject. ‘I’m taking a package holiday to the Sunshine Coast and the choice of departure dates is limited.’ ‘Good, good,’ he dismissed the trivial details impatiently, then fixed her with a penetrating look. ‘Use the time to think things through and you’ll realise I made the right decision about the promotion. You’re a capable, enthusiastic researcher but it takes a lot more to make an assistant producer. Maturity and judgement for a start. Maybe in a year or two you’ll have attained them.’ He strode off towards the executive offices, leaving Denise staring open-mouthed after him. She hadn’t dared to speak after he joined them, and now gave Eden a shocked look. ‘I’m sorry it was my smart remark which got you into trouble.’ ‘It isn’t your fault. I didn’t have to repeat it,’ she said with great fairness. She was still smarting from the frankly sexual way he had appraised her. Or was it her own instinctive reaction which shocked her? Even while raging at his behaviour, some part of her had responded to it with chemical vibrancy. It was as if he had flipped a switch to ‘on’ deep inside her, setting hundreds of nerve-endings pulsating in sympathetic resonance. He had turned her on. The evocative phrase was the only one which fitted her reaction, yet she refused to believe she could feel anything but fury towards him. He hadn’t denied promoting men rather than women to the top jobs in his company. If anything, his behaviour had confirmed his view of women as sex objects. She had gone home that night and taken out her impotent rage on the housework, polishing floors with the same savage intensity that she would have liked to apply to removing the smug expression from his handsome features. If he knew how he had affected her, he had given no sign of it, accepting her apology at face value and treating her much the same as always. Which was to say with businesslike coolness, until she left to go on holiday. And now he wanted to go somewhere to talk? ‘I can’t,’ she denied. ‘My plane...’ ‘Leaves in half an hour,’ he reiterated. ‘You already pointed it out. Not that you needed to. It’s my flight, too.’ ‘You’re going to the Sunshine Coast too?’ The amusement in his gaze taunted her. ‘Do you have any objections?’ ‘Of course not.’ But she did and she had a feeling he knew it. Before she could ask any more questions he took her arm in a grip which looked courteous but felt like steel, as he steered her towards the departure lounge. In the quiet, luxurious surroundings of the first-class lounge, he led her to a secluded group of armchairs which looked like a corner of an expensively furnished private home. ‘Wait here. I’ll get you a drink.’ She gathered her wits enough to say, ‘Something soft, please.’ Slade Benedict’s sudden appearance was heady enough without compounding the effects with alcohol. She was furious about his take-charge behaviour but also consumed with curiosity. What on earth could he want to talk about? It couldn’t be about her childish outburst over the promotion. He had accepted her apology and, despite his arrogance, he wasn’t the type of man to carry a grudge. Even so, she wished she could take the outburst back. It would have been better to approach him with her concerns in a calm, rational manner. No wonder he thought she lacked maturity. There was another possibility and she bit her lip, thinking of it. When she’d joined his company, there had been a misunderstanding about her age which she hadn’t corrected. As a result, she had started at a higher level and salary than her qualifications deserved. Determined not to cheat anyone, she had crammed every bit of experience she could into her workday, taking courses and skipping breaks until she was sure the company was getting more than its money’s worth from her. Could Slade have found out somehow? Would he think her hard work was enough to balance out that one lapse when she was hired? His stony expression as he approached with their drinks did nothing for her peace of mind. Then common sense came to her aid. If he had found out, he would have fired her, not allowed her to go on leave. She forced herself to relax but it was a challenge as he dropped into a chair at right angles to her own. Stretching his long legs out, he hooked one foot over the other. Her own legs started to ache from keeping them tucked primly beneath her but the discomfort was preferable to the risk of tangling her legs with his. Her tension grew and she looked at her watch. ‘My flight will be boarding soon. Hadn’t you better tell me what this is all about?’ ‘Our flight,’ he corrected. ‘Don’t worry, they’ll page us in here after the others are aboard.’ ‘You arranged for me to be in first class, didn’t you?’ she said on a sudden suspicion. ‘I wondered when the penny would drop.’ ‘It’s more than a penny, it’s several hundred dollars,’ she gasped, finding her feet at last. ‘I thought the airline was responsible. Now I know it was your doing, I can’t possibly agree. I could never afford to pay you back.’ ‘I don’t expect you to,’ he said mildly. ‘But you do expect something?’ It was hardly a question. Men like Slade Benedict always balanced the scales somehow. She was totally unprepared for his answer. ‘I do want something in return. I want you to be my wife.’ She sat down again before her legs collapsed under her, and took a swallow of the drink he’d provided. ‘You want what?’ ‘Relax. This isn’t a new form of seduction. I want you to act the part for the next few days.’ This was crazy! He might be her boss but he had no right to make such an outrageous demand. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m no actress,’ she denied. His eyes narrowed, his gaze chilling. ‘Oh, no? My perusal of your personnel file suggests quite the opposite.’ So he did know that she was masquerading as older than her real age. ‘I needed the job,’ she said by way of vindication. ‘I didn’t mean any harm. And you must agree that I’ve done a good job.’ ‘Which is the only reason you are still employed in my organisation,’ he assented. ‘Your work is outstanding, not that I would have accepted less.’ ‘But it was the reason why I didn’t get the promotion,’ she conceded. ‘Yes, it was. I feel you need a few more years’ experience in your present position, until you catch up with the age you purport to be.’ He steepled his fingers and looked thoughtful. ‘How old are you, incidentally?’ ‘Twenty-five,’ she said in a barely audible tone. At work she was supposed to be nearing her thirtieth birthday. Surely, knowing the truth, he would drop his alarming request for her to act as his wife? The newspapers had reported his own thirtieth birthday over a year ago, so he must see how incompatible they were, on age alone. ‘Twenty-five,’ he mused. ‘It’s a little young but you’ve been passing as older successfully so it will have to do.’ Distantly, she heard the first call for their flight, but was too preoccupied to pay it much attention. How dared he assume she would fall in with his plans simply because he willed it? ‘All the same, I can’t act as your wife,’ she declared. What right did he have to ask such a thing? ‘I don’t even know you, at least, not in that way.’ His grim look lightened slightly. ‘You don’t have to know me—in that way,’ he said, deliberately misinterpreting her words. ‘There are no sexual favours involved so don’t look so affronted. I’m not looking for a wife in the literal sense.’ Did she imagine it or did he shudder slightly at the prospect of being tied down with a wife? No wonder he had to proposition her at an airport to fill the role, if he found the idea of marriage so repulsive. ‘Nevertheless, I take your point that we need to appear more familiar with one another than we do now,’ he went on. ‘An evening together should be sufficient. It can be easily arranged, as we’re staying in the same hotel.’ ‘Which you no doubt arranged at the same time as you had my airline ticket upgraded,’ she assumed furiously. Boss or not, he was the most highhanded man she had ever met. If ever she went shopping for a husband, she would wish for someone a little more human than Slade seemed to be. ‘I’m sorry but I can’t help you,’ she said flatly, her voice vibrant with anger. ‘I don’t know why you’re asking me but no reason could possibly justify it.’ ‘Not even the lives of hundreds of Aboriginal babies?’ he said blandly. About to thank him for the drink and walk away, she froze. ‘What did you say?’ ‘I said that your agreement to what is really a simple task could save hundreds of young lives.’ ‘I don’t understand.’ He leaned closer, enfolding her in the potent male aura of his aftershave lotion so that she felt slightly light-headed. ‘The resort you’re booked into is also the venue for a business convention which I’m attending, along with some friends from my university days.’ ‘If this is some kind of practical joke...’ ‘It’s no joke,’ he said grimly. ‘At university, a group of us invested some money with the agreement that the last one to remain single would claim what has become a sizeable amount of money.’ She took a steadying sip of her drink. ‘And you don’t want the money?’ She knew without being told that Slade’s business had made him one of Tasmania’s richest men. ‘As you’re aware, I hardly need it,’ he confirmed. ‘But the other candidate does. Bob Hamilton, the only other bachelor, is a doctor who has devoted his life to setting up clinics for Aboriginal children in the outback. The money would greatly assist him in his work.’ More confused than ever, she shook her head. ‘Then why don’t you just give it to him?’ ‘Bob’s damned pride would prevent him accepting unless he thinks he’s won it fairly.’ ‘So when you found out I’d be there at the same time you decided to turn up with a wife to convince him that he’s entitled to the money,’ she summarised her understanding of the situation. ‘Exactly.’ He stood up. ‘That’s the final call for our flight. Can I take it that you’ll do as I ask?’ Miserably, she shook her head. ‘I wish I could, since it’s in a good cause, but I’d be no good at it, honestly. I couldn’t convince anyone that we’re husband and wife.’ His expression became glacial. ‘I hoped you’d be more helpful, Eden. That’s why I kept your file on my desk instead of returning it to Personnel.’ Was he making it a choice between doing as he asked and losing her job? ‘I can’t believe you’d be so cruel,’ she ground out. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong.’ ‘Beyond accepting a job under false pretences,’ he reminded her. ‘After that, pretending to be my wife should be a piece of cake for you.’ A piece she might choke on, she thought. But what choice did he leave her? If she resigned, who else would employ her when he refused her a reference? ‘Everything I’ve heard about you is true,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘You’re arrogant, unprincipled and manipulative.’ ‘But you’ll do as I ask?’ ‘For no longer than is absolutely necessary to convince your Bob Hamilton that the money is his,’ she insisted. ‘Naturally,’ he agreed, his mocking tone making her want to hit him. When he took her arm to escort her to the plane, it was all she could do not to tear herself free. She had better get used to it in her new role as his wife. Slade Benedict’s wife. The very thought sent surges of electric sensation pulsating through her. She told herself it was anger at the way he had virtually blackmailed her into playing the part. After all, what else could it be? CHAPTER TWO THE Sunshine Coast airport with its plush lounges and tropical gardens was a far cry from the sandy patch of Maroochy Beach where the first aircraft landing in the region took place in 1922. In those days, guests stayed in boarding houses designed in traditional Queensland style with wide, airy verandas but little in the way of luxuries. Today, their plane was met by a uniformed resort driver who whisked them in air-conditioned comfort to a new, low-rise resort hotel which fronted Coolum Beach. With the exception of a central core, the resort had no building higher than three floors. They nestled into the curve of the landscape, the colours chosen to echo the natural surroundings. Although sharply conscious of the man at her side who was supposed to be her husband, Eden was distracted by the patterns of light and texture the design created with its clever use of roof angles, overhangs and lattices. As their driver pointed out the resort’s own large tract of coastal rainforest alongside the golf fairways, she gave a sigh of longing. If only Slade hadn’t come along with his impossible demands, she would have looked forward to exploring the resort. She jumped when he enquired solicitously, ‘Ready, darling? We’re here.’ They had arrived at Reception and their luggage was already being unloaded. A uniformed doorman held the limousine door for her to alight. Slade’s casual use of the endearment brought the colour rising to her cheeks and she ducked her head. It was one thing to agree to act as his wife but quite another to actually carry it out. ‘I something the matter, darling?’ he asked, materialising at her side. ‘Must you keep calling me that?’ ‘It’s good practice,’ he said, unperturbed. ‘But everyone doesn’t have to think we’re married, only your doctor friend.’ ‘Who is a highly intelligent man,’ Slade warned her. ‘The more comfortable we become with our roles, the more convincing we’ll be.’ ‘I suppose so,’ she said on a sigh. ‘I hadn’t bargained on starting so soon.’ ‘You didn’t find it difficult to keep up your act at work,’ he reminded her. ‘Why should it be a problem now?’ Fresh colour flamed in her cheeks, sparked by anger this time. ‘All right, so I was in the wrong, but I’m doing my penance. Must you keep reminding me of it?’ ‘Only when you need encouraging to play the part you agreed to.’ She tossed her long hair expressively. ‘Was blackmailed into, you mean. The only redeeming feature is knowing that some underprivileged children will benefit from having my holiday ruined.’ The hand she fluttered to express her frustration was captured in a firm grip. ‘It needn’t be ruined,’ he said in a soft undertone. ‘My wife is entitled to enjoy herself while she’s here.’ She felt an instant lifting of her spirits which she refused to connect with the warmth of his fingers entwined with hers. ‘She is? I mean...I am? You mean it’s all right if I explore the rainforest and the wildlife sanctuary?’ Her naive enthusiasm elicited a smile which softened the angles of his face, making him look almost attractive. ‘Of course. You’re free to explore while I attend the conference events. Provided you’re at my side at the opening and social occasions, the rest of the time is your own. Of course, that freedom doesn’t extend to holiday flirtations, you understand?’ Steel fingers crept up and down her spine, chilling her with the reminder of her unwanted obligation. ‘Of course not,’ she mocked. ‘How would it. look if Slade Benedict’s wife was seen flirting with another man?’ His hand clamped around her wrist, drawing her irresistibly closer until his lips brushed the curve of her ear. ‘I warn you not to try my patience, Eden. I want your word that you’ll go through with this to the best of your ability.’ The alternative was disgrace and, quite probably, long-term unemployment. Besides, it was in a good cause, as he had just reminded her. ‘You have my word,’ she agreed. ‘Now will you release my hand? You’re hurting me.’ ‘Not as much as I will if you go back on your promise,’ he vowed. But his fingers loosened and she retrieved her wrist, rubbing it significantly so that he would know how bruising his grip had been. But there was worse to come, she found when they were shown to their accommodation. ‘You can’t expect me to share a room with you,’ she seethed in an undertone, her glance moving to the porter who was delivering their luggage. Slade’s eyebrows lifted in mocking amusement. ‘Not a room, a suite. Married couples usually share sleeping quarters.’ Despair throbbed through her. Despite his assurance, she was beginning to wonder how far he intended to take this charade. ‘Married couples, maybe. But we’re not...’ ‘Not in need of another thing,’ he said, lifting his voice as the porter approached them. He accepted Slade’s generous tip with a salute and left, closing the door behind him. She was alone with Slade for the first time and a confusing medley of sensations assailed her. The sense of alarm, she understood. The prospect of sharing close quarters with him was enough to alarm any woman. But there was something else, too, an undercurrent of excitement which was even more shocking. ‘This wasn’t part of our agreement,’ she denied, annoyed by the betraying tremor which vibrated in her voice. She had the uncomfortable certainty that he saw through her facade of coolness to the cauldron of emotions seething inside her. ‘Scared, Eden?’ he asked in a voice as soft as a caress. ‘N-no.’ It was true, wasn’t it? His aura enveloped her as he came up behind her, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders, the warmth of them pervading her body. ‘Good. You shouldn’t be scared of me, ever.’ Weakness invaded her limbs. ‘Then you understand why I can’t possibly agree to share your suite?’ ‘I understand why you don’t wish to, but it’s necessary.’ His finger slid down her throat and came to rest on the pulse which fluttered like a caged bird. ‘Most women would find the prospect stimulating.’ Her throbbing pulse betrayed how stimulating she found it, which was precisely why she dared not agree. For a heartbeat, she wondered what it would be like if she was really his wife, sharing this suite and... so much more. Shocked by the power of her thoughts, she wrenched free and went to the glass door which opened on to a wide terrace, fixing her gaze on the ocean view while she fought for composure. ‘All the same, I can’t stay,’ she said when her throat allowed words to pass again. He spoke so close behind her that she jumped. ‘You have no choice, I’m afraid. The hotel is booked out for the conference.’ Her eyebrows winged upwards. ‘What about my original reservation?’ ‘Cancelled in favour of this one.’ A shiver propelled itself down her spine. She tried to tell herself she was affronted by his high-handedness, but the sense of rising excitement drowned it out. ‘You were pretty sure I’d agree,’ she said with a coolness she was far from experiencing. He gave a crooked smile at which her heart did a kind of somersault. ‘I felt confident I could persuade you.’ Her throat dried as she visualised his methods of persuasion. She had the feeling they would be devastatingly effective. Enjoyable, too, a traitorous inner voice insisted. ‘I also counted on your ambition to overcome any lingering scruples you might have about the arrangements,’ he added. Surprise flared in her amethyst gaze. ‘My ambition?’ ‘You needn’t pretend with me,’ he said, confusing her all the more. ‘Anyone who bluffs her way into a job as you did, then works as hard as you’ve done to keep it, has to be ambitious. The number of courses you attend and the hours you put in speak for themselves.’ He was also well aware of her determination to gain promotion, she thought. It painted a different picture of her from the true one. Yet she couldn’t defend herself without explaining that most of it was for her mother’s sake, which she had no intention of doing. The strength of her reluctance caught her by surprise. She didn’t want his pity, but there was another reason, she recognised unwillingly. She liked having Slade treat her as a desirable woman and it would end as soon as he knew the truth. Didn’t she have enough experience of what happened with first her father, then Joshua? She didn’t want to go through such anguish ever again. ‘What is it, Eden?’ Slade asked, shattering her reverie as he touched a finger to her chin, tilting her face up to him. The light touch against her throat and the intense concern she glimpsed in his eyes was almost too much. Then common sense asserted itself. ‘Nothing, why?’ ‘For a moment, you looked incredibly sad, as if the weight of the world was on your shoulders.’ His hands slid down, coming to rest on the top of her arms. ‘They’re much too slight for such a burden.’ Choked by feelings which threatened to overwhelm her, she spun away on to the terrace. ‘I’m tougher than I look.’ She felt rather than heard his change of demeanour. His voice was cold when he said, ‘I don’t doubt it. Someone with your ambition would have to be.’ No, no, you’re wrong about me, she wanted to deny—then immediately questioned why she should care what he thought. Wasn’t it better if he accepted his own explanation of her behaviour, rather than sought the real one? She affected a bright smile as she turned back to him. ‘You’re right, of course. Now which bedroom do you want me to take?’ A wry smile spilled across his features. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in saying mine?’ ‘None at all,’ she said briskly, striving to control her heartbeat, which contrarily picked up speed at the very idea. ‘It wasn’t part of our agreement.’ He gave an exaggerated shake of his head in mock-disappointment. ‘What a pity.’ It was only as she settled into the master bedroom which he generously allocated to her, complete with its own terrace and ocean view, that she realised how restrictive this arrangement must be to him. By ruling out holiday flirtations for her, a supposedly married woman, he had also ruled out casual sex for himself. If the reports of his love life were even partially true, celibacy was not his preferred state. Her uneasy glance went to the closed door which separated them. She could hear him humming under his breath as he mixed a drink for himself, she having already declined one. She hoped he had his male hormones firmly under control because she had no intentions of taking this make-believe marriage any further. Slade Benedict was arrogant, unfeeling and iron-willed. His readiness to commandeer her holiday for his own purposes was proof enough. She would be crazy to let him use her any further, when she knew from past experience how it was bound to end. All the same, there was something about him which haunted her. His power over her job and pay cheque couldn’t explain it. This was much more intimate and disturbing, and she slammed her suitcase lid down hard, as if she could also put a lid on her thoughts. The sound reverberated through the suite, reminding Eden that she hadn’t heard any sounds from the other room for a while. Slade had said he intended to check out the conference venue, as he would be giving an address next day, so he must have gone to do so. Cautiously, she opened her bedroom door and stepped into the living-room which separated their sleeping quarters. The remains of his drink sat on a side-table, a film of moisture beading the glass. Lazily she traced a pattern in the moisture then withdrew hastily. It was only his glass, for goodness’ sake. She should throw it in his face, not dream over it. What on earth was getting into her? Her wandering gaze was arrested by several items lying behind the glass. Slade must have emptied his pockets before going out. She ignored the jumble of keys, tickets and other paraphernalia, drawn instead to an open ticket wallet in which she glimpsed some photographs. Slade’s family? The temptation to peek was irresistible. They were indeed family snaps, she found when she drew them towards her. One was of Slade wrestling an enormous black dog, a Newfoundland, Eden noted. He looked more relaxed and happy than she had ever seen him at the office. The second photo was a studio portrait of a young girl of about nine or ten. Her face was set in such a wistful expression that Eden’s heart constricted in response. ‘My daughter,’ Slade supplied in a harsh tone. She jumped, not having heard him return. Waves of nausea washed over her. If this was his daughter, then somewhere there was a real Mrs Benedict. What did he think he was playing at? ‘Not my real daughter, of course,’ he supplied as if reading her thoughts. ‘Katie was my sister’s child. She and her husband were killed in a road accident and Katie was the only survivor.’ Tears blurred Eden’s vision. ‘Poor little mite. How old was she when they died? I mean, I don’t want to pry or anything, but——’ ‘But you need to know about her in order to play your part,’ he cut in before she could finish. He joined her on the couch and lifted the folder from her hands. His expression softened as he studied the photo and she wondered at the change in him. Where was the ruthless, uncaring dictator now? The expression was gone in an instant, replaced by a hard, cold mask which chilled her to look upon it. ‘My sister married against family advice,’ he told her. ‘When her husband found out that she had no money of her own other than an income from shares I’d given her in my company, what love there was soon died. By then Julie was pregnant with Katie and she stayed for the sake of her child.’ Eden touched his hand lightly. ‘You don’t have to tell me any more.’ His bleak expression raked her. ‘I don’t, but I shall, so you know exactly how things are with me. A wife would know, wouldn’t she?’ But a real wife, not a play-acting one, she thought painfully. It occurred to her that perhaps there weren’t many people he could take into his confidence. With his knowledge of her own personnel file, she was hardly likely to betray his confidence, so he felt safe telling her the facts. With a feeling of emptiness, she nodded. He linked his hands behind his head and stared at the ocean beyond the window. ‘Julie endured it as long as she could but her husband’s womanising got too much to ignore. Eight months ago, she telephoned me to say she was leaving him. She and Katie were to stay with me until she decided their future.’ A lump rose in Eden’s throat. Was it his sister’s experience which had soured him on the idea of marriage? ‘What happened?’ she asked softly. ‘Her husband followed them in his own car, finally forcing them off the road. The roads were wet. Both cars rolled, killing their drivers. Katie was strapped into the back seat of Julie’s car and they were able to get her out with only minor scratches.’ ‘How horrible,’ Eden said, wanting to cry. ‘Is Katie all right now?’ ‘She has occasional nightmares about the crash but I’ve tried to give her as normal a home life as possible. I moved to a house along Nutgrove Beach where she seems to have settled down.’ The area was one of the most exclusive residential parts of Hobart, only a few minutes’ drive from the city centre. ‘Who takes care of her while you’re away from home?’ ‘Our housekeeper, Ellen. She worked for Julie before the tragedy, and has known Katie since she was born, so it’s an ideal arrangement.’ Slade as a family man, with an adopted daughter, was so at odds with her perceptions of him that she felt confused. ‘You must love Katie very much to do all that for her,’ she speculated. ‘That’s the trouble,’ he said harshly. ‘I don’t know. I’m still getting used to this father business.’ Eden sat up, hugging her knees close to her chest, unaware of how youthful the pose made her look. ‘Why did you decide to adopt her if fatherhood is so unappealing?’ ‘I didn’t say it was unappealing.’ ‘Your tone did.’ Irritation furrowed his brow. ‘You’re right. I never wanted the domestic package of a wife and two-point-five children. I had my parents’ and Julie’s marriage to prove that it doesn’t work. But I couldn’t abandon my own sister’s child.’ Anger rose in Eden, coiling tightly in her chest until she had to say what was on her mind. ‘Well, no wonder you don’t enjoy fatherhood with that attitude. Katie’s probably well aware that she’s a duty to you.’ ‘I’ve never allowed her to know how I feel.’ ‘You don’t have to. Children know when they’re loved and wanted.’ His thunderous expression should have warned her she’d gone too far. ‘As far as I’m aware, you’re no expert on the subject of marriage and children, unless you lied about them, too.’ ‘I didn’t lie. It was a stupid misunderstanding which got out of hand.’ Without telling him the whole story, she couldn’t convince him that she had allowed the error to stand out of the purest motives. ‘Before coming to work for you, I spent some time as a teacher’s aide in a kindergarten. I thought about getting a certificate in early childhood education.’ Until the need to earn a living had ruled out the required years of study, she thought ruefully. ‘But corporate communications promised bigger rewards and a fast track to the top.’ He put his own interpretation on the facts. She shook her head until her hair haloed around her head. ‘It may look that way, but it wasn’t why I gave up teaching. I loved being around the little ones. They’re so eager to learn, so fascinated by the newness of the world.’ He took in her shining eyes and heightened colour. ‘You sound like perfect mother material. When are you going to get off the career ladder and have some of your own?’ Pain knifed through her until she jumped to her feet. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she threw at him and flung herself through the door into her bedroom, where she leaned against the door, her chest aching with unshed tears. His fist pounded on the door, sending vibrations shuddering through her. ‘Go away,’ she shouted. ‘Not until you tell me what I said to provoke such an outburst,’ he insisted. ‘You’d better open up. I’ll break the door down if I have to.’ She had no doubt that he meant it and had the strength to back up his threat. Shakily, she opened the door, guarding a narrow opening with her body as if daring him to thrust past her. His shoulder forced the opening steadily wider until she gave up and moved aside. Standing in front of the window, she wrapped her arms around her trembling body. He came up behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him reach for her, and every nerveending tensed. If he touched her, her defences would crumble and she’d be forced to tell him the truth. Instead, he rested his hands on the back of a chair alongside her, his arms enclosing her without touching her. ‘What is it, Eden? What did I say?’ ‘You didn’t say anything. The problem is mine. I can’t have children.’ He swore under his breath. ‘And I went and put my foot right in it, didn’t I?’ ‘You couldn’t know.’ Her voice was ragged. This was the last subject she had expected to discuss with him. ‘It isn’t something I like to advertise.’ ‘Of course not.’ The compassion in his voice caught her by surprise. She hadn’t expected him to make allowances for any kind of weakness. She searched his face, seeking at least a trace of the distaste he must be feeling, but found none. ‘What’s the problem, something physiological?’ he asked gently. She was curiously unwilling to let him think she was less than a whole woman. ‘Everything works,’ she said, aware that his concern threatened to undermine her shaky defences. His hand drifted to her cheek, his touch feather-light. ‘I wasn’t doubting your womanhood,’ he assured her. ‘You have only to look into a mirror to see the beauty and femininity you possess in breathtaking abundance.’ There was no need. She could see it reflected in his eyes as he regarded her with heart-stopping intensity. Her heart hammered against her ribs. How had they shifted on to such dangerously intimate ground so quickly? It must be the talk of babies which clouded her mind with images of Slade making love to her, the vision so vivid that a gnawing sense of loss filled her. Tears sprang to her eyes. Slade caught one droplet on the tip of a finger and tut-tutted softly. ‘I’m sorry I brought up a sensitive subject. Isn’t there anything to be done—test tubes, donor sperm, that sort of thing?’ He had totally misread her tears. For once, they weren’t for the child she was capable of bearing but dared not, but for a future which was also beyond her reach. ‘There’s a...a genetic problem,’ she demurred. Some of the options he’d mentioned were available to her, but it would mean carrying another woman’s child. It could never be her own flesh and blood, carrying her own genes. The risk to the child was just too great. ‘I’ve considered the options and they aren’t for me,’ she said flatly. ‘Do you mind if we change the subject?’ ‘Of course not.’ He sounded almost gentle, she thought in astonishment. Damn it, she didn’t want him to feel sorry for her. It was easier to fight him when he thought she was as ruthlessly ambitious as himself. She forced a smile, blinking to clear her blurred vision. ‘Well, at least we’ve achieved our aim. We’ve gotten to know each other better so our husband and wife act should be much more convincing.’ His eyes hardened as he withdrew his hand. ‘It will need to be. Bob Hamilton is checking in tomorrow morning. He’s joining us at breakfast.’ Panic started to grip her. ‘So early? I was hoping for more time.’ ‘We still have this evening,’ he reminded her. ‘I’ve made reservations in the Oceana Room for seven o’clock.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Which just gives us time to change.’ What did one wear to a dinner with one’s husband of less than a day? Eden thought when he left her alone. Aware that dressing for dinner was favoured in luxury resorts such as this one, she had included some evening wear in her luggage. But she had imagined herself dining alone or with other single travellers, not with someone as formidable as Slade Benedict. In the end, she chose a shimmering jumpsuit whose elasticised waist flattered her trim figure. The glitter-trimmed blouson top was suitably dressy while the narrow legs of the trousers emphasised her slim ankles and high-heeled silver evening sandals. In deference to the tropical climate, she used the lightest make-up, dusting her eyelids with silver shadow to complement her metallic drop earrings. Pouting to apply her lipstick, she appraised herself frankly. If she wasn’t up to his usual standard in women, he had only himself to blame for choosing her. When he saw her his blatantly appreciative look dispelled any such doubts. ‘Very nice,’ he murmured, his eyes warm as he took in the figure-hugging lines of the suit. When he came to the low-cut neckline, she had to resist the urge to tug it closed. His wolfish smile made it plain that he was aware of her discomfort. ‘Don’t look so worried; you have my approval.’ ‘I wasn’t aware I needed it,’ she snapped. A provocative gleam glinted in his grey gaze. ‘I’m glad to see you’re back on form again. I’d hate to think I’d chosen a woman with no spirit.’ He was probably more worried about her impression on his former university classmates than her state of mind, she thought with a flash of anger. How typical. ‘You needn’t worry. I gave you my word I’d play my part and I shall.’ ‘You could start by looking a little more loving,’ he advised. ‘You look as if you’d like to come after me with a meat cleaver.’ She favoured him with a sickly smile. ‘How did you guess?’ He tut-tutted softly and stepped closer so she could see the satiny gleam on the lapels of his suit. A dinner-jacket suited him, she thought absently, focusing on his perfectly tied bow-tie as it came nearer and nearer. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded, nerves fluttering in her throat. ‘Giving you some practice in how to be loving,’ he promised, closing the remaining distance between them. ‘This isn’t part of our...’ she managed to get out before his lips closed over hers, muffling the rest of her reminder. Being kissed by him wasn’t part of their agreement, but neither was her uninhibited reaction. Some part of her knew she should be fighting him off with all her strength. Yet the part which welcomed the embrace seemed to be winning. She had been kissed before, most recently by Joshua, who had managed to convince her he loved her, until the parting came. But nothing had prepared her for the sheer eroticism of Slade’s kiss. It sent signals of desire spiralling down her throat, coiling along her backbone, to the very core of her being. Weakly she clung to his shoulders, her fingers digging furrows into his suit. He had made time to shave and his skin felt like velvet against her cheek. She inhaled the leathery scent of shaving cream, feeling the slickness on her skin. ‘Open your mouth,’ he murmured against her lips. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. ‘No, I...’ ‘Eden, obey me.’ Instinctively she did and was swept away by the instant invasion of his tongue, plundering the soft recesses of her mouth. God, he was making love to her with a mere kiss. When he moved slowly away, she swayed dizzily, trying to absorb the torrent of sensations he had aroused. Then she saw his self-satisfied look as he blotted her lipstick from his mouth with a monogrammed handkerchief. ‘You bastard. You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?’ ‘At least you look like a woman who knows the meaning of love.’ He had played her like an instrument and she had allowed it to happen, to the extent of being a willing accomplice. Well, no more! ‘You’re the one who doesn’t know the meaning of love,’ she rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. It felt swollen and bruised. ‘I’m sure you know all about lovemaking. But as for honest human feelings, I doubt if you have any.’ He tilted an eyebrow at her. ‘I have feelings all right, but they’re more pragmatic than yours. To me, lovemaking is more real and honest than the romantic myths you subscribe to. You only have to look at my mother and sister to see where romantic love gets you. One is going through a messy divorce from her third husband, and the other is dead at the age of twenty-nine.’ In the evening light, his face was all sharp planes and angles, the look so bleak that she felt chilled in spite of the tropical heat which defied the air-conditioning system. Her heart turned over. She knew only too well how vulnerable past hurts could make a person. The sting of Joshua’s rejection was fresh enough to make her guard her family secrets even from Slade. How much more he had suffered through the loss of his sister and the break-up of his secure family life. ‘I’m sorry you feel love is a waste of time,’ she offered. He tilted one ironic eyebrow. ‘I didn’t say it was a waste of time. Only that it’s better to be honest about one’s intentions.’ ‘Total honesty? I have visions of you putting signs up—“For one night only”.’ ‘Very funny. I don’t usually need signs, because I ensure that the feelings are mutual.’ What about in my case? she wanted to ask. It would imply that she saw herself as a candidate for his bed, which she most certainly didn’t. What did it matter if he preferred physical love to a deeper involvement? It wasn’t as if she was planning to get involved with him. All the same, she couldn’t resist asking, ‘Don’t you find it lonely, just you and your principles?’ He frowned impatiently. ‘At least I’ll still have my principles come the morning.’ Sorrow for his bleak view of life overwhelmed her own sense of outrage and she fled to the bedroom to repair her make-up. Only thinking of her mother’s needs gave her the courage to face Slade again and accompany him to the hotel restaurant. She was sure every eye must be upon them as they were shown to one of the best tables. Every time a waiter called her Mrs Benedict, she cringed, but made an effort not to show it in case Slade decided she needed another ‘lesson’ in loving. How she hated him for taking advantage of her like that. Or was it herself she disliked for being so compliant? a small voice queried. She had enjoyed his kiss, had given herself up to it with all the abandon of which she was capable. What was worse, he knew it and was amused by her response. Instead of making her task easier, Slade had made it almost impossible, she thought. How could she convince anyone she was a loving wife after this? CHAPTER THREE ‘SLADE, darling. I was hoping to catch up with you here.’ A slight frown creased Slade’s smooth forehead as he rose to greet the woman who swept up to their table. Petite in both height and figure, she was stunningly beautiful with china-doll features under a cap of glossy black hair. The hands she extended ended in perfect oval nails which shone with emerald polish to match her vibrant green eyes. Even before Slade made the introductions, Eden recognised her as Dana Drury, one of Tasmania’s best known television personalities and anchor of her own evening current affairs programme. ‘Dana, this is Eden Lyle, one of my top researchers,’ he explained, drawing Eden into the circle with an expansive gesture. Dana’s cool green gaze rested on Eden for all of ten seconds as she murmured, ‘Pleased to meet you. You’re here to back up Slade for the conference, I suppose.’ Without waiting for an answer, she returned her attention to Slade. ‘Too bad I didn’t know you were arriving tonight, or I’d have given my camera crew the slip.’ She indicated a table on the far side of the room. The small group around it were watching with obvious interest. He lifted his shoulders in an apologetic gesture. ‘Eden and I have business to discuss in any case.’ Another casual look glanced off Eden before dismissing her again. ‘I can hardly accuse you of being a workaholic when everyone knows I’m just as bad. But you will save me a dance later, won’t you?’ ‘I’ll join the queue.’ ‘Save the flattery. I’m a liberated woman, remember?’ All the same, she looked pleased as she returned to her table. Slade sat down again and resumed eating his strawberry souffl?. ‘Sorry about the interruption. Dana and I are long-standing friends.’ Dana’s flirtatious manner had left Eden in no doubt as to what sort of friends they were. She was disturbed to find that the idea bothered her, although there was no reason why it should. ‘I notice you didn’t introduce me as your wife,’ she commented. His eyebrows flickered upwards. ‘I didn’t think you’d want me to. Telling Dana would be like taking out an advertisement.’ ‘But you don’t mind the hotel staff knowing.’ The observation was out before she could stop herself. ‘It’s part of their job to be discreet.’ His eyes hardened and the spoon came crashing down into the souffl? dish, making her wince. ‘Damn it, Eden, you’re giving me the third degree like a real wife. What’s going on here?’ She had begun to ask herself the same thing with no convincing answer. ‘I’m getting into the spirit of the role,’ she excused herself, hoping it was true. ‘You’re succeeding brilliantly enough to make me glad we’re not really married,’ he growled. Annoyance stiffened her spine. He was the one who wanted this charade, not her. ‘We can end this any time you say,’ she snapped back. ‘I’ll be only too delighted to go on with my holiday free of any attachments.’ He fixed her with a sharp glare. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Is that what this is all about? You’re hoping to rile me enough to end the whole thing. Well, it won’t work. You gave me your word you’d see it through and I intend to hold you to it.’ She felt tired suddenly, whether with the long flight or the day’s surprises she couldn’t tell. ‘Then you’ll have to play your part more convincingly. Bob Hamilton will never believe we’re married if you keep snapping at me all the time.’ ‘On the other hand, it may be even more convincing.’ Sadness welled up inside her. ‘You’re talking about your parents’ marriage, aren’t you?’ ‘All three of them,’ he tossed off with apparent insouciance, but she wasn’t convinced. ‘My father left us when I was sixteen,’ she admitted softly. ‘It doesn’t have to sour you on the whole institution.’ Bitterness twisted his mouth into a thin line. ‘As long as you’re happy to live in an institution.’ Without consulting her, he ordered coffee and liqueurs, making it plain that the subject was closed. Yet it rankled with him, she sensed. For her part, she knew only too well the heartache of losing a parent at a young age. She had gone through all the stages of wondering if she was to blame, trying to be a better person, then finally accepting that the fault, if there was one, lay outside herself. Now she was losing her mother too, by degrees, which made it even more painful. If anyone had a right to be cynical about relationships, she had. Instead, she had clung to the love her family had shared before her father left them. When she thought about her childhood, it was to focus on the happy moments and try to forget the quarrels between her parents, and the sadness once her mother’s health began to decline. She no longer blamed her father for leaving. Peggy had been as much at fault as he had. Never an easy woman to live with, she had perhaps already been suffering the early stages of her illness, unbeknown to her family. Besides, life was too short and precious to hold grudges. She lowered her eyes against the cynicism in Slade’s glare and toyed with her liqueur glass. ‘We’re poles apart in our thinking. What made you choose me to convince your friend you’re married?’ He tossed back his liqueur and set the glass down. ‘It was partly convenience. When you told me where you planned to go for your holiday, I had a word with the travel agent to ensure he made this date available to you.’ Momentarily she forgot all about not holding grudges and shot him a look laced with venom. ‘You actually manipulated my choice of holiday dates so I’d pick the one which suited you?’ ‘It suited you as well,’ he pointed out, unperturbed by her hostility. ‘What would you have done if I hadn’t been available at all?’ ‘Probably showed Bob the photos of Katie I brought with me, and tried to convince him she was my daughter, at home with her mother.’ Her throat dried as she cast about for words to describe his behaviour. ‘Do you always use people so callously to get what you want?’ He stirred cream into his coffee before answering. ‘You’re forgetting, this isn’t what I want, it’s what Bob Hamilton needs.’ ‘You’d know best, I suppose?’ His strong fingers closed around the delicate coffee-cup until she feared he might crush it. ‘In this case, I do. He needs that money and won’t accept it any other way.’ He leaned closer, lowering his voice. ‘Actually, I’m surprised that you find my methods so disagreeable, considering you use them yourself.’ Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/valerie-parv/flight-of-fantasy/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.