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She put her head down as it started to rain and turned towards the nearest underground station.
It was rush hour. Charlotte stood well to the right on an escalator that trundled slowly down into the bowels of the earth; a never-ending stream of people hurried past her, their shoulders brushing against hers, but she was barely aware of them. There was a constant thundering sound as trains sped through the passages below and a warm vortex of air spiralled upwards, blow-drying the rain from her blonde hair. Charlotte felt numb, as if she wasn’t really there.
How could she have done that? she kept asking herself. How could she?
A busker stood in one of the tunnels, his voice echoing eerily as he sang about how much love hurt. The sound was accompanied by the silvery clinking of the coins that people threw on the way past. Maybe, like her, they agreed with his sentiment. Charlotte dug deep in her pockets and added her coins to his collection.
She had found out from David just how much love could hurt.
Maybe that was the reason some people…like Jordan…abandoned the idea of love completely and chose to just concentrate on the physical side of things. She had never really agreed with that way of thinking before, but now…now she wasn’t sure how she felt about anything. Because buried away in the deepest recess of her mind was the knowledge that last night had been extremely pleasurable.
There was a train waiting on her platform and she raced towards it, just squeezing in before the automatic doors closed. She stood, hemmed in by the sheer volume of people, and grabbed at a handrail to steady herself as the train left the station. Then she closed her eyes and thought again back to last night.
She had insisted on meeting him at the restaurant. Somehow arriving under her own steam had made her feel more in control of the situation. It meant she would be able to leave when she wanted instead of having to wait for him. Charlotte liked to be independent.
They had started off talking about work. Jordan had made her laugh; he had a very dry, very witty sense of humour. She remembered a few women had cast envious eyes over towards their table and she had felt almost proud to be the one who was getting his undivided attention.
She realised now, that should have been her first warning signal.
‘So where is your girlfriend tonight?’ she had asked him when there was a pause in the conversation.
‘Benita and I split up a couple of weeks ago.’
‘Oh! I’m sorry.’
He shrugged. ‘These things happen—as you know. Have you seen anything of David recently?’
She shook her head. ‘I think he’s still in the States on business.’
‘Do you still have feelings for him?’
The intensely personal question took her aback and she hesitated, not knowing what to say.
‘According to your father, he was never right for you.’ Jordan filled the gap drily.
‘Has my father been discussing my private life with you?’ She was instantly annoyed.
‘Only in passing.’ He shrugged easily. ‘You went out with David for a long time, didn’t you.’
‘Two years. How long were you with Benita?’ Swiftly she changed the subject back in his direction.
Jordan frowned. ‘I don’t know; I’m not one for counting much any more.’
‘Any more?’
‘When I was married to Nadine I used to count anniversaries, important dates—you know, the usual kind of thing.’
His statement intrigued her. She had heard he had been divorced, but that was all, because Jordan was extremely aloof when it came to talking about his past. Charlotte had assumed, because he seemed such a womaniser, that he had ended the marriage. ‘It sounds as if you loved her very much.’
‘I did.’ His voice was heavy. ‘But it didn’t do me a lot of good. Sometimes loving someone isn’t enough.’
‘Well, she was obviously just the wrong person for you.’
He smiled at that. ‘You’re not going to go all Pollyanna-like on me, are you?’
‘No.’ She felt herself blushing and he smiled.
‘I’ve enjoyed tonight, Charlie; thank you.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it too.’ She was aware that she didn’t really want the evening to end.
Jordan took out his wallet to pay the bill and she fumbled for her handbag.
‘We’ll go Dutch,’ she said firmly.
‘Dutch?’ He stared at her as if she was speaking that language.
‘Yes. I like to pay my own way, thank you.’
His lips twisted in a wry curve. ‘Well you can pay next time,’ he said dismissively, putting his credit card on the silver salver. ‘How’s that?’
Before she could make a reply to that he had switched the subject. ‘Have you heard anything from your father recently?’
‘Not since Ruth rang to tell me they wouldn’t be coming home from France at the appointed time. Dad must really love it out there because it’s not like him to want to take extra time off work. You know what he’s like, a complete workaholic.’
‘And she didn’t say anything else?’
‘No. It was a very brief conversation, but then it always is with my stepmother. She’s usually in a hurry.’ Charlotte frowned. ‘Why?’
‘I just wondered.’ The waiter brought the counterfoil for him to sign. ‘You get on all right with Ruth, don’t you?’ he asked casually as he handed the piece of paper and the pen back.
‘Yes. She seems to make Dad happy.’ She paused and frowned. ‘Everything is all right with Dad, isn’t it? You have spoken to him since he’s been away?’
‘Of course.’ Jordan rose smoothly to his feet. ‘He is my business partner; he couldn’t be away for seven weeks without being in contact.’
He had put his hand at her back as they had walked out of the restaurant. It had just been a light touch but Charlotte had been extremely conscious of it.
The train jerked to a halt and her eyes flew open. It was her station; she struggled to step out, battling amongst the hordes getting in.
The April rain was cold against her skin as she emerged again onto the streets above. But her mind was still tuned into the night before. They had walked back towards his apartment and he had invited her in for coffee. ‘You may as well wait for a taxi in the comfort of my place,’ he had said easily.
So she had followed him up to the stylish penthouse apartment. She had never been to his home before, and it had felt different being somewhere with him that wasn’t work-related at all. It had made her suddenly self-conscious. And when he had reached to take her coat, she had felt more acutely aware of him than she had ever done.
As he disappeared through to the kitchen to make the coffee she had wandered around the lounge, admiring the décor. ‘Who did the interior design to this apartment?’ She called out the question to him through the open door.
‘I don’t know. I wasn’t particularly interested in interior designers until I met you.’
She smiled at the compliment. Then noticed a photograph of a little girl, about three years of age, with dark shiny hair and a mischievous grin.
‘Who is this?’ she asked as Jordan came back through to the lounge.
‘That’s my daughter, Natasha.’
‘I didn’t know you had a child! She looks adorable.’
‘Yes.’ He put the tray of coffee down on the table and then went over towards her. ‘She was adorable.’ He reached out a hand and took the photograph from her.
‘Was?’ Charlotte had a cold feeling inside as she heard the ominous tone in his voice and saw for a moment raw emotion in the darkness of his eyes.
‘She died almost two years ago.’
‘I’m so sorry, Jordan.’
She watched as he carefully put the photograph back where it had been. And in that instant she wanted to reach out to him, soothe the shadows from his face. Jordan was always so controlled, so confident; she had never seen that rawness of expression on his face before. Instinctively she reached up and touched him, trailing her fingers in a soft caress along the side of his cheek.
He caught her hand in his and then, as their eyes met, the unguarded emotion changed into something else, and he turned the hand to kiss the inside of her wrist. The gesture was totally unexpected and there was something extremely provocative and yet sensitive about it…something that made her insides turn over.
‘You look beautiful tonight,’ he murmured, and his eyes moved over her body in the softly flattering blue suit. ‘But then, you always look beautiful.’
She raised questioning eyes to his. There had always been some kind of turbulent chemistry between them; maybe subconsciously that was why she had always kept a distance from him. Because she knew he spelt danger. But now that feeling of danger was teamed with something else, something much more powerful. She felt it spiralling inside her like a spinning top, whipping around and around in her insides. And she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.
He had reached out and touched her face the way she had his and the touch had been like a spark to a can of petrol because the next thing she remembered she had stood on tiptoe to kiss him.
She had made the first move.
Remembering that made her heart stand still.
After the initial moment of surprise he had kissed her back. And what a kiss that had been! Just thinking about it now made her insides clench with desire again. Jordan Lynch knew exactly the right way to kiss a woman. His lips had travelled over hers with a slow, seductive warmth that had been so deliriously wonderful it had made her toes curl.
As passion exploded quickly out of control, there had been a moment when Jordan had pulled back. ‘Are you sure about this?’ he had asked seriously.
She had smiled and reached to kiss him again.
Remembering that now made Charlotte’s skin burn.
Hurriedly she let herself into her flat and leaned back against the door. She was faced with her familiar, modern, perfectly designed home, but it felt different to her now. It was as if the person who had left here last night was not the same person who had returned. It was as if she didn’t know herself any more.
The phone rang on the hall table and her nerves jumped. Would that be Jordan? She didn’t answer it and after a few moments the answering machine clicked in.
‘Hi, sweetheart, it’s David. I hoped I’d catch you before you left for work. Look, I just wanted to tell you again how sorry I am. It was one night, honey, and it didn’t mean anything, not compared with my love for you. It was a mistake, a terrible mistake, a moment of insanity. Anyway…’ His voice trailed off, became more hopeless than eager. ‘I’m flying back to England tomorrow. I’ll call you then.’
The earnest, pleading voice touched the far recesses of her mind. Yesterday she wouldn’t have understood a moment of insanity, but yesterday she had been a sensible person and now…now she didn’t know what the hell she was doing any more.
CHAPTER TWO
HIS timing was wrong. Jordan knew that, he’d known it last night but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He disliked himself intensely for the weakness. Yet perversely he didn’t regret it. Charlotte had been everything he’d dreamed she’d be; passionate, warm…it had been intensely pleasurable. How could he regret that?
He reached for his briefcase and climbed out of his car. When should he tell her? he wondered. Today wouldn’t be right, not now. He was grimly aware that he was putting off the inevitable again. Charlotte was going to find out, and sooner rather than later, whether he told her or not. It was better that she heard it directly from him and not through a third party. But not today.
The sky was a heavily leaden grey. It was reflected in the choppy waters of the River Thames and the modern glass building that was the central administrative centre for McCann Developments.
Charlotte’s grandfather, George McCann, had started the business years before. He was a builder who had worked his way up from small beginnings to create a successful development firm of good repute. Charlotte’s father, Simon, had taken over the running of the place twenty-five years ago and things had ticked along fairly well until they had hit the recession five years ago, leading to dwindling profits and eventually the necessity of taking on Jordan as a partner.
Being the newcomer on the block hadn’t been as easy as Jordan had anticipated. But he was a talented architect and an experienced businessman with a nose for a good deal. He’d been here for just over a year and already the profits were up. Along the way he’d had to make a few changes to streamline the running of the place, and he knew that even more changes were necessary if the business was to thrive.
His thoughts went to Simon McCann. He admired him and the business was sound. That was the reason he had invested in it in the first place, but just recently he had noticed a change in Simon. He had become reluctant to look at new designs that were essential for them to keep ahead of the opposition. It was almost as if he had lost his enthusiasm. And it was becoming more apparent that if Jordan was to make any real inroads into the success of the business he would need to have the casting vote.
It was coming to crunch time, when he might be forced to get Simon to sell his share of the business to give him overall control, and he didn’t think Charlotte would be too happy about that.
Added to all of that there was the matter of the missing money.
‘Morning, Jordan.’ His secretary paused to wait for him by the lifts in the front lobby.
‘Morning, Laura.’ He smiled back at the attractive brunette, but in truth his mind was skipping ahead to his meeting with Charlotte. Wondering how he should play things after last night.
His eyes were drawn to the brass plaque in the lift, with the name McCann Developments. He wondered how Charlotte would feel if the business ceased to be a family affair. Somehow, he thought she wouldn’t be too pleased.
Charlotte had started work here six years ago and was in charge of the interior-design side of the business. When Jordan first met her he had found her a bit prickly—had thought that she was probably a spoilt little rich girl who had got a job here purely through nepotism.
In reality he couldn’t have been further from the truth. He had discovered she was an exceptionally talented designer who worked extremely hard and had once owned her own successful interior-design business. Her father had persuaded her to join the family company by promising her much bigger and more lucrative projects. As well as designing the interior of their show houses she ran an after-sales service for customers who wanted their homes bringing up to the same high standards. This was proving so successful that they’d had to expand the company’s design section.
No, somehow he couldn’t see Charlotte being pleased if her father was to leave the business.
As soon as he stepped out onto the top floor of the office he saw that she was already seated at her desk. He’d half wondered if she would be late this morning. Then he smiled to himself. He should have known better. Charlotte was always in her office bright and early, no matter what. She was a dedicated career girl.
He took a moment to study her now. She seemed completely engrossed in the papers in front of her. Her long blonde hair was piled up on top of her head, exposing the creamy length of her neck. As usual she was dressed in a smart, businesslike black trouser suit, with a white blouse open at the neck. She had a great figure—he allowed himself to remember her soft curves and the long, shapely legs and found himself wanting her all over again. Not a good start, he warned himself with annoyance. He was going to have to play this very carefully.
She glanced up and their eyes collided briefly. Only the pallor of her skin and the faint shadows under her green eyes gave away the fact that she wasn’t entirely at ease. She gave him a brief smile then returned her attention to her work.
Charlotte cursed herself as she fixed her eyes on her papers. Maybe she shouldn’t have smiled? She had been telling herself all morning that she should just act like normal—but what was normal? She couldn’t seem to remember how she usually behaved around Jordan. It was all muddled up in her mind now with memories of red-hot passion last night. Concentrate on work, she told herself fiercely.
At least her designs were taking good shape, she thought, running a critical eye over them. Sometimes it seemed as if she did her best work when she was under duress—maybe because she used work like an escape valve. When she entered her world of interior design she could shut the door on everything and everyone else. Jordan was a bit like that as well; they had remarked long ago that when it came to work they were remarkably similar, both totally dedicated. Which was probably the reason they had worked so well together lately.
Had she jeopardised that last night? Right at this moment Charlotte doubted very much that she could even pretend to be relaxed around him again.
The door of her office opened and she was aware of his dark eyes raking over her even before she glanced up. She held herself very straight, as if she was completely at ease and in control of the situation, and gave him a brief smile. ‘Hi, Jordan. You’re late—the accountant will be in soon and we have those figures to sort out.’ She was pleased at how confident she sounded.
‘Of course I’m late.’ He put down his briefcase and came around to perch on the edge of her desk.
Couldn’t he just use the seat opposite like any other normal person? Charlotte wondered nervously. She felt at enough of a disadvantage this morning without him looming over her like some kind of bird of prey.
‘Some feisty young woman kept me very busy last night.’ His voice was softly teasing.
She felt her skin glow with vivid colour.
There was a moment’s silence, a moment where he waited for her to say something. When she didn’t his eyes moved with thorough gentleness over her upturned face, taking in the colour on her high cheekbones, the softness of her lips. ‘Why did you rush off like that this morning?’ he asked.
She leaned further back in her chair, trying to feign an indifference that she just didn’t feel. ‘Last night was…pleasant, Jordan—’
