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Sally Paxton was a woman on a mission…and nothing and no one was going to stop her…
Her blue eyes fixed with a determined light on the two elevators situated to the rear of the elegant foyer. One elevator she knew was for general use; the other—the one she wanted—went directly to the top floor, where her father’s office was situated.
Zac Delucca, for the first time in his adult life, had been virtually overlooked by a woman, and for a moment it left him dumbfounded.
Recovering, he demanded of the receptionist, ‘Who is that girl, and what department does she work in?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before.’
‘Security,’ he said, alerting the guard standing nearby, but he was already calling out.
‘Stop, miss, you have to sign in!’
Sally stopped in front of the elevator and jabbed at the button, lost in her own angry thoughts. The one and only time she had visited her dad’s London office had been over seven years ago. She had been eighteen and had called in unannounced one Wednesday afternoon, after watching her beloved mother open a birthday card from her husband that morning.
Sally had been hoping to persuade her dad to return with her that evening to their home in Bournemouth, rather than waiting until the weekend. It was her mum’s birthday, for heaven’s sake…At least he had remembered to post a card…But as her mother had recently been discharged from hospital after a mastectomy, Sally had been determined to make him see that his wife needed his support.
The success of the surprise dinner party Sally had planned for the evening had depended on her father’s presence.
Her lips tightened in disgust, and briefly she closed her eyes. Even now the scene that had met her eyes was still scorched into her brain, and made her simmer with rage…
Nigel Paxton’s secretary had not been in the outer office, so Sally had knocked on her father’s door. When no one had answered she had opened it and walked in.
It had not been a pretty sight…There was her dad, leaning over his desk with his half-naked secretary, half his age, sprawled across the desk beneath him.
No wonder they hadn’t heard her knock…
Her father…the slick seducer…the serial adulterer…the slimy lying toad…the man her mother loved and thought could do no wrong—the man Sally had slowly grown to despise.
The elevator arrived and she stepped in and pressed the button. Leaning back against the wall, she closed her eyes.
As a young child she supposed she had loved her father, even though he hadn’t been around a lot. Their home in Bournemouth had been a large detached Victorian house overlooking the sea. But her father, as chief accountant for Westwolds Components, was based in the London headquarters of the company, and kept a studio apartment in the city where he stayed during the week.
As an idealistic teenager, anti-war of any kind, she had been horrified when she’d realised the firm her dad worked for manufactured essential parts for weapons. She had announced that it was morally wrong to work in the arms industry, and he had told her she was a silly girl, and to stick to looking good and leave the running of the world to men.
To call him a male chauvinist pig was to insult pigs! Dark haired, handsome and charming to those who did not know him, her father was at the top of his game in the accountancy stakes—but in Sally’s book he was a spineless apology for a man.
Well, today he was going to hear just what she thought of him—yet again, and demand he accompany her to visit her mother in the private nursing home in Devon that had been her mum’s home for almost two years.
It was over six weeks since her father had shown his face, and she blinked tears from her eyes as she pictured again the look on her mum’s face every time Sally arrived to visit. The gleam of hope that faded as she realised her latest visitor was not her husband yet again. Sally’s excuse for her dad that ‘pressure of work’ kept him in London was wearing very thin.
Her mother knew about his affairs, because Sally at eighteen had blurted out what she had seen. And her mother had admitted she had always known about her husband’s other women—in the plural!
Sally had been horrified when her mother had actually made excuses for him. Explaining how it was difficult for him as a virile man, because she had not been a very able wife in the bedroom department for quite some time even before she had been diagnosed with breast cancer, and that he was a good and generous husband and father and she loved him.
Nothing Sally said had affected her mother’s opinion or her love for her husband, and, not wanting to upset her mother, she had been forced to drop the subject.
As for her father—she’d told him exactly what she thought of him, and he had simply responded with the usual: that she was a silly girl who knew nothing of the wants and needs of adults, and that she should mind her own business and concentrate on her studies, because he was paying enough for them…
Immediately, she had wanted to give up her place at Exeter University, where she’d been in her first year studying Ancient History, but her mother would not hear of it. Reluctantly, Sally had to agree, but she could barely bring herself to be civil to her father when he did occasionally return home the same weekend as her.
As it happened, her mother had been right to insist on her continuing her education, because her mum had recovered from the breast cancer remarkably well. Sally had watched her slowly begin to grow in confidence and hope as test after test had come back with positive results.
When her mum had reached the five-year point and still been in the clear she had told Sally it was time for her to spread her wings a little and strike out on her own. After graduating Sally had initially worked at a small local museum near home. But after her mother’s encouragement she had applied and secured a job as a researcher at the British Museum in London.
Sally had loved her new job—and the fully furnished one-bedroom apartment she had rented over a bakery in the city. For the first six months life had been good. Her mum had been well, and had occasionally visited her in London. Sally had gone home most weekends, and, excluding her dad, the future had looked rosy. Then the horrendous tragedy of her mum’s accident had destroyed their fragile happiness.
Even now Sally could not get her head around how fate could be so cruel…She shook her head as a huge black cloud of sadness enveloped her. It was so unfair. After five years her mum had virtually recovered from the cancer. Only to be knocked down by a car as she walked out behind the bus she had taken to the centre of Bournemouth to shop. After months of treatment she had been left a paraplegic, with no hope of further improvement.
Now every weekend Sally travelled down to Devon, where she stayed in a small hotel near the nursing home so she could spend as much time with her mother as possible. Last Saturday evening Sally had been sitting with her mother and had watched her face light up at the sound of her husband’s voice on the telephone, had seen in her eyes the pain and sadness she’d tried to hide as she replaced the receiver, and had listened with growing anger as her mother repeated the conversation.
Apparently her father had called to tell her he could not make it on Sunday, nor the next weekend…His excuse was that with the takeover of the company by the Italian firm Delucca Holdings, he was up to his ears in work.
Sally opened her eyes and took a deep breath. She needed to calm down, and she needed to plan what she was going to say to her father. Yelling at him would be futile. For her mother’s sake she needed him to go to the nursing home with her willingly, for once in his selfish life, to act the part of loving husband.
God knew it wasn’t as if he was going to have to do it for long…If the consultant was to be believed, her mother’s life expectancy was limited.
On her last visit the doctor had called Sally into his consulting room and informed her that her mother’s heart was weakened beyond repair, probably as a result of the cancer treatment she had undergone combined with the accident that had followed. He was sorry, but there was nothing more that could be done, and in his opinion her mother had maybe a year at best. But in reality she could go at any time.
The doors opened and Sally exited the elevator. Her dad’s office was at the far end of the corridor, and, squaring her shoulders, she tightened her grip on her red clutch purse and made straight for his door.
Zac Delucca crossed to where the security guard stood, pressing the button for the elevator.
‘Sorry, sir, she got away. But this elevator only goes to the top floor, where the boardroom and Mr Costa’s office is situated. The only other office is Mr Paxton’s, the company accountant, but that wasn’t his girlfriend—secretary,’ he quickly corrected himself. ‘Maybe the lady is looking for you?’ he suggested, trying to sound positive after having failed in his duty to register all visitors.
So the accountant was having an affair…Zac filed the information away. ‘Do not worry, Joe,’ he said, glancing at the name tag on his uniform. ‘You were distracted—and if what you say is true the lady is not going anywhere. I suggest you get back to you desk.’
The elevator doors glided open, and Zac and Raffe entered.
‘Is the lady likely to be looking for you?’ Raffe asked with a grin. ‘Or should I say chasing?’
‘I should be so lucky,’ Zac drawled, though it was a common occurrence for women to chase him. He was an incredibly wealthy man and, as one reporter had once written, with his kind of wealth, good looks and height—a broken nose notwithstanding—he was a magnet for women the world over. Not that he thought of himself as such…
Concentrating on the task at hand, he asked, ‘It is the accountant whom you suspect of fraud, is it not, Raffe?’
‘Yes.’
‘I take it he is a married man?’
‘Yes—married with one child, I believe.’
‘And apparently this man has a mistress, and they do not come cheap. Your suspicions are looking well founded, Raffe.’
Sally walked straight into her father’s office and stopped. He was sitting behind his desk, his head in his hands, a picture of misery. Maybe she had misjudged him…Maybe he was more upset over his wife’s diagnosis than he showed.
‘Dad?’ she called softly, and he lifted his head.
‘Oh, it’s you.’ He straightened up, frowning. ‘What are you doing here? No, don’t tell me.’ He raised his hand. ‘You are on a holier-than-thou mission and want me to go and visit your mum, right?’
He wasn’t upset. He was the same selfish bastard he had always been.
‘Silly me.’ Sally shook her head in disgust. ‘For a moment there I thought you were thinking of your wife…’ She glanced around the large room and through the open door to the secretary’s office beyond, which was empty, and then back to her dad.
‘Well, I have had enough of your lies and deceit, and for once in your life you are going to do the decent thing and come with me tonight.’
‘Not now, darling,’ he snapped, and stood up, straightening his tie.
Zac Delucca had heard the woman’s demand that Paxton go with her as he entered the office, and he did not miss the darling, or the sardonic curl of the woman’s lips as she responded.
‘What’s the matter? Your latest Girl Friday deserted you? And I use the word girl deliberately,’ Sally goaded. And she must have hit the nail on the head as the colour seemed to drain from her dad’s face. Then she realised he was looking straight past her. The smile on his face did not reach the eyes that for an instant flickered with fear, quickly masked.
Inexplicably, Sally shivered, despite the slight stuffiness of the office on the hot summer’s day, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Someone else had entered the room, probably his secretary, and she was now shooting daggers at her back, having overheard her comment. Not that Sally gave a damn about upsetting her dad’s latest mistress…
‘Mr Costa, I was not expecting you back again so soon.’
Sally stiffened as her dad spoke and then stepped forward, ignoring her. Then she heard the Costa man introduce a Signor Delucca.
‘Mr Delucca, this is an unexpected pleasure. I am delighted to meet you.’
Her father’s hearty greeting rang a little false to Sally. She knew every intonation of his voice, and he did not sound delighted. She certainly was not. His secretary she could handle, but she stiffened as she recognised the name Delucca.
After her father had stated the man was taking over the company Sally had read an article about him in the business section of a newspaper. He was an Italian tycoon, incredibly wealthy, and renowned as the takeover king. His latest acquisition was Westwold. In a footnote to the article, it said that apparently he kept his private life very private, but it was known that he had escorted numerous statuesque models in his time.
Unbelievable…Sally fumed silently. For years she had for her mum’s benefit kept the peace with her father, even if it had been mostly by ignoring him. But today, for the first time in years, she had decided to challenge him and demand he cut out the lies and the girlfriend for the weekend and do the right thing by his wife. Instead, for once it seemed he might have been telling the truth. The new owner Delucca was here. Perhaps her dad did intend working the weekend…
But not if she could help it…
Chapter Two (#ulink_911be5a5-6485-5786-a87f-493a2ef1e6f5)
ZAC DELUCCA walked forward and briefly shook the hand Nigel Paxton held out to him. ‘The pleasure is mine,’ he said suavely, and, turning, shifted his attention to the stunning woman.
He studied her intently for a long moment. Her gaze was fixed on Paxton and never wavered. She did not even glance at Zac, and he was intrigued. Could this gorgeous woman actually be Paxton’s lover? Or maybe, by the sound of the conversation he had overheard, a discarded lover? Both scenarios he found very hard to believe. Firstly, she was too young for Paxton, and secondly, any man who had such a female in his bed would be a fool to let her go. With a face and figure like hers she could take her pick of the male population and probably did, he concluded as he noted the banked-down fire in her ice-blue eyes that to a man with his expert knowledge of women denoted a passionate nature.
‘Sorry to intrude. I was not aware you had company,’ he continued, turning his attention back to the accountant—the possible thief, he reminded himself. ‘You must introduce me to your charming friend, Paxton,’ he commanded, and waited, his dark eyes once again roaming over the woman’s lovely face and exquisite body.
Sally barely registered the stranger’s smooth tones as her dad made the introduction.
‘Oh, she is not my friend,’ her father chuckled, and beamed down at her. He had got that right, she thought cynically. ‘This is my daughter, Sally.’
She turned slightly and looked up, and up again, at a positive giant of a man—with black hair and black eyes, and no doubt a black heart, if his unashamed masculine scrutiny of her body was anything to go by.
‘Sally…May I call you Sally?’ he asked politely, then went on, ‘You are a beautiful young woman. Your father must be a very proud man.’
Why did she get the feeling there was an underlying cynicism in his tone? Not that she cared. Overblown words of flattery from a man with a sexually explicit invitation in the dark eyes that met hers did not impress her, and she refused to be intimidated. Her mother was her only concern, and she shrugged off the unfamiliar tremor that slid down her spine.
Straightening her slender shoulders, she held out her hand politely, and it was immediately engulfed in his much larger one. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she said flatly, and looked back at her father again. At the same time she attempted to slip her hand from Delucca’s, but outrageously his thumb slowly stroked the length of her palm and her fingers before setting her free.
How predictable—another one like her dad, she thought bitterly.
Zac Delucca did not miss the flash of distaste in her brilliant blue eyes as he finally let go of her hand. Maybe caressing her palm had been a little juvenile, but he had been unable to resist the temptation to test the softness of her skin against his. For a moment he imagined the brush of every inch of her skin against his naked body, and had to fight to control the surge of arousal the thought induced.
He had definitely been too long without a woman, but now he knew it was not Lisa in Milan or any other woman he wanted. It was this woman he wanted, and he resolved to have her. He had no doubt he would succeed—he always did. It was simply a matter of negotiating the when and where, sooner rather than later, if his neglected libido had any say in the matter.
Her voice was low, and ever so slightly husky. Her brilliant blue eyes had been cool as she glanced up at him and swiftly back to her father. Never had a woman so instantly dismissed him. Usually they hung on to his hand…Yet this beauty had done it twice. Her indifference rankled, and he was all the more determined to make her aware of him…
He watched as her father introduced her to Raffe. She gave him an equally brief smile and turned back to her father yet again. But as she continued speaking, Zac sensed it was not so much that she was ignoring him, but that she was disappointed in her father for some reason. He noted the dark flush that stained the older man’s face and he felt the tension between them.
Thinking fast, Sally spoke. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Mr Delucca,’ she said without actually looking at the man, her hard blue eyes fixed on the reprobate that was her father. ‘I called round to persuade my father to take me out to lunch. I am always telling him he works far too many hours. Isn’t that right, Dad?’ she prompted sweetly.
She did not want to reveal her mother’s poor health to two virtual strangers, but she did need to get her dad by himself and extract a promise from him to go with her—if not tonight, then in the morning—to visit his wife. He was not fobbing her off again.
‘Yes, but you are a little late. I had a sandwich earlier, as I am rather busy, and as you can see, Mr Delucca, the new owner of the company, has just arrived. I can’t possibly take you to lunch today. Why don’t you run along and I will ring you this evening?’
Next he would be patting her on the head, like the silly girl he thought she was, Sally thought angrily. She knew perfectly well he would not call her tonight. She knew every lying tone of his voice. But she also realised there was not much she could do about it. Not with two strange men standing listening to the exchange.
She stared at her father for a moment. He was smiling his usual charming smile, and yet there was something…She could hear the underlying strain in his voice. Whether it was because she had turned up or because of his new boss’s presence she wasn’t sure, but before she could decide she felt the brief brush of long male fingers on her forearm—apparently to get her attention. Involuntarily she tensed at the touch, and glanced up in surprise, her blue eyes clashing with black.
‘Your father is right, Sally. He is going to be occupied for the rest of the day with Raffe, my accountant.’
For some inexplicable reason, Sally was paralysed by the dark eyes holding hers. They were not actually black, more a deep dark brown, with the faintest tinge of gold, and framed by the longest, thickest, sootiest eyelashes she had ever seen on a man.
What on earth was she doing? She tried to look away. Her mother was her only concern. But somehow her gaze lingered for a moment on his striking face. He wasn’t handsome, she decided. At some time his nose had been broken, and had healed, leaving a slight bump, and above one arched black eyebrow there was an inch-long scar.
‘But I could not possibly allow a young lady to lunch alone.’
Still studying his face, she was only half registering his words. Then with a jolt she swiftly lowered her gaze as she suddenly had a good idea where his statement was going. She glanced back up to see Delucca turn his attention to her dad.
‘If you have no objection, Paxton, I will take your daughter to lunch. Raffe is more than capable of explaining the business we need to discuss, and I will see you later.’
Sally was too stunned by the turn of events to object immediately. Instead she glanced from one man to the other, and caught the hardest look pass between them, and then her father responded—at his jovial best.
‘That is extremely kind of you, Mr Delucca. Problem solved. Sally, darling, Mr Delucca will take you to lunch—isn’t that good of him?’
Sally looked from her dad up to the man towering over her, his dark eyes gleaming with sardonic amusement and something more she did not want to recognise. She shivered and did not bother to answer her dad. Good…? There was nothing good about this man. Of that she was sure…
Ten minutes later Sally was sitting in the back of a limousine, Zac Delucca seated beside her, on her way to a lunch she did not really want.
‘Comfortable, Sally?’
‘Fine,’ she responded automatically. How the hell had this happened? she asked herself for the umpteenth time.
‘The restaurant is about twenty minutes away—a favourite of mine when I am in London.’
‘Fine,’ she murmured, rerunning in her head the conversation in the office.
When she had finally found her voice she had tried to get out of going to lunch with the excuse that she wasn’t that hungry and she was sure Mr Delucca was far too busy to waste time with her.
Delucca had silkily stated that time was never wasted with a beautiful woman. She had noted the devilish humour in his dark eyes, and just known he was laughing at her. He was the kind of man who always won, and she had wanted to slap him.
