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Charade Of The Heart
Charade Of The Heart
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Charade Of The Heart

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Did he have to do that? Beth wondered nervously. Was he doing it on purpose? She didn’t think so. There was something absent-minded about his action, but even so, it was menacing.

No wonder, when Laura had spoken about him, her voice had been filled with awe.

Of course, she decided, falling back on her good, old-fashioned sense of practicality, any awe Laura felt towards him was totally misplaced. All that forbidding arrogance didn’t intimidate her at all. Well, not now anyway. Maybe to start with, but she had got the measure of him now, she decided.

He had something unpleasant to say to her and, instead of just coming right out with it, which was what any normal boss would have done, he was playing a cat-and-mouse game with her. Creating a shroud of tension around her, waiting for her to snap, at which point he would no doubt find the whole scenario hugely entertaining.

‘Oh, yes?’ Beth asked politely.

His mouth hardened. Any minute now, she thought, and he’ll tell me that I have an attitude problem. But she was damned if she was going to let Marcos Adrino walk all over her. He might treat the rest of the human race like that, but not her. Not if she had any say in the matter.

She fleetingly thought that she was supposed to be impersonating her sister and that Laura would never have dreamt of answering back to him, and promptly pushed the thought aside for future reference.

‘You don’t seem overly concerned,’ he said, dropping the letter-knife and standing up.

Beth followed his movements warily as he walked around the desk to perch on it directly in front of her.

Another little ploy, she told herself. Designed to make the guilty party feel inferior and vulnerable. It won’t work.

Her green eyes serenely met his, and she saw an expression of what? Puzzlement? Almost as though he was trying to figure something out. Then it was gone and he was looking at her with cold disapproval.

‘Of course I’m interested in whatever rumours you’ve heard,’ Beth agreed with the same level of controlled politeness in her voice. ‘Not that rumours are always based on fact.’

‘Your week off certainly seems to have turned you into a little philosopher,’ Marcos observed coolly. ‘I don’t remember you being so opinionated before. Who did you spend the time with?’

‘No one,’ Beth said hurriedly.

‘Not even David Ryan?’

So this is it, she thought, I might have guessed. Her face reddened and then just as quickly drained of all colour.

‘I see that’s managed to crack that controlled little façade of yours.’

‘May I ask who has been spreading these…rumours?’ she asked. Not that I’ll be able to deny them. Laura, she groaned inwardly, why on earth did you have to fool around with someone in the company? Why couldn’t you have contented yourself with any one of the hundreds of other men in London who had nothing at all to do with the Adrino corporation?

Marcos smiled coldly. ‘I really don’t think that’s relevant, do you?’

‘I suppose not,’ Beth said dully.

‘The fact is that you and Ryan have been sleeping together, haven’t you?’

‘I didn’t realise that what I did outside of company time—’

‘You know damn well that it’s not allowed. You’re my secretary and Ryan isn’t just one of the junior members of staff. He’s one of our directors.’

‘He is?’ She hadn’t thought to ask Laura what David’s status in the company was, and Laura had, naturally, tactfully omitted to mention it.

‘Don’t try and plead ignorance,’ Marcos bit out. ‘It won’t work. I had noticed that his work was becoming sloppy. Is that why he requested a transfer to Paris?’

‘I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him,’ Beth hedged, looking away.

‘I’m asking you. But don’t worry, your face says it all for you. No doubt you drove the poor fellow into a corner and he fled from the country to get away from you.’

‘I resent that!’ she exclaimed hotly, standing up. It was on the tip of her tongue to inform him that she wasn’t paid to sit in his office and be systematically insulted. That he could expect her resignation first thing in the morning. But, of course, she couldn’t. Laura would never have forgiven her if their convoluted efforts to secure her job had lasted precisely two hours and had resulted in Beth walking out.

She bit back her words and rearranged her features into what she hoped was an expression of subdued apology.

‘Sit back down,’ Marcos commanded abruptly. ‘You’ll leave when I’m finished with you. You’ve been playing with Ryan, and who else? Is he one of a succession of men you’ve been sleeping with in my company?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Because I won’t have it. I can do without being known as someone who has a tramp for a secretary.’

‘I am not a tramp!’ Two bright patches of colour had appeared on her cheeks, and she realised that she was perspiring all over.

‘I needn’t tell you that rumours of your affair with Ryan could very quickly spread into rumours of an affair with me.’

The black eyes glinted cynically at her. She wondered briefly whether that wasn’t bothering him as much as Laura’s love-affair with David. After all, it was easy for a boss to lose credibility with his staff if it was rumoured that he was sleeping with his secretary.

And that would be quite an easy assumption to make. He was attractive, she supposed, if you liked that sort of ruthless appeal, and he was aware enough of his own sexuality to realise that women were drawn to him.

‘I can assure you that you don’t need to fear anything on that score,’ she informed him stiffly.

‘No?’ He raised one eyebrow, and this time there was a distinct gleam of lazy amusement in his eyes.

It altered the hard contours of his face totally, and she caught a swift, disturbing glimpse of the sort of self-assured charm that could knock any defenceless woman for six.

But she was far from defenceless. Oh, no. She had always been a controlled person, and since Craig she had erected a good many barriers to protect her from ever again being taken in by a few charming smiles and some well-rehearsed chat-up lines. That glimpse of raw sex appeal, she firmly told herself, stood no chance.

‘No,’ she told him.

‘You mean you’re not attracted to me?’ There was slightly more amusement in his eyes now, and it made Beth angry. There had been nothing amusing in his accusations a minute ago and, if he thought that he could dictate her responses to him by turning on a bit of masculine charm, then he was in for an unpleasant surprise.

‘That’s right.’ She stood up and smoothed her skirt, then she bent to retrieve the shorthand pad and her pencil. And not once did she even glance in his direction. ‘Is that all, now?’

‘That’s all.’ He moved across to the window and stood staring broodingly out. The fine drizzle that had started earlier in the morning had not let up. She could see the persistent wetness clinging to the window-pane, as though the top of the building were stuck in the middle of a cloud.

She turned to go and halted at the door when she heard the deep timbre of his voice behind her.

‘Just so long as we understand each other,’ he said silkily. He had turned to face her, and Beth’s mouth suddenly went dry. No wonder this man had such a high opinion of himself. He was clever, that much was apparent in his eyes, and he knew it. He was powerful, and he knew it. And he was sexy, and that he was certainly aware of.

But he wasn’t perfect. If he were he would be able to see the stubborn hostility in her face.

‘I think we do, Mr Adrino.’

‘Marcos. I told you when you first got this job that everyone in the company was on a first-name basis.’

‘So you did,’ Beth murmured, unable to resist a smile as she thought that they had done it. They had really managed to pull the wool over Marcos Adrino’s sharp eyes. They had fooled him. He didn’t have a clue that the woman standing in front of him had never been interviewed by him for any job.

‘Care to tell me what that smile on your face is all about?’ he drawled. ‘I can’t imagine that the past hour has exactly filled you with a warm glow.’

You’d be surprised, Beth wanted to retort, still highly amused at the thought that she had fooled the infallible Marcos Adrino.

Her smile widened. ‘Just looking forward to my day’s work,’ she said blandly. ‘Job satisfaction is a wonderful thing.’

‘Isn’t it? And by the way,’ he added, as she opened the door, ‘what have you done to your hair?’

‘Oh, I had it cut,’ Beth said cautiously. Had her triumph been short-lived? ‘I fancied a change,’ she mumbled vaguely when he didn’t say anything.

‘You’ve succeeded,’ he said, sticking his hands into his pockets. ‘From where I’m standing, you’ve succeeded very well indeed.’

Beth stepped out of the office and shut the door firmly behind her. His words were ominously perspicacious. She really would have to remember that she couldn’t give in to the temptation to react in the way she customarily would have done. That she and Laura, identical twins though they were, were very different as two individuals.

She almost fell into her chair with the relief of no longer being in Marcos’s presence.

It hadn’t just been his relentless accusations, she thought suddenly, as she logged into the computer and ran her eyes briefly over the huge store of files, realising that she would have to work a lot of overtime to really understand Laura’s job fully.

There was something alarming about him. Maybe it was just that she was not accustomed to being confronted by a man who acted as though the whole world was designed to fall in with his orders.

Her little job in Cambridge had certainly not prepared her for this particular breed of man. Her own boss had been quite mild-mannered. A sympathetic middle-aged man with three children, all girls, who wore a look of perpetual harassment on his face. Whenever anyone joked to him about it, he would laugh and reply, what do you expect, living with four women?

Beth couldn’t imagine that Marcos Adrino had ever been mild-mannered. He had probably been born arrogant. She tried to imagine him as a baby and found that she couldn’t. The only image she could conjure up was that dark, devilish, ruthlessly handsome face.

She stuck a couple of horns and a tail on her mental image, chuckled and then settled into the laborious task of catching up with the outstanding workload of typing.

When Marcos next strode out of his office, he glanced across at her with surprise.

‘Dieting?’ he drawled, slinging on his coat and pausing to stand over her.

Immediately Beth felt her pulses begin to race.

‘Pardon?’

‘It’s nearly two o’clock,’ he told her, and she returned his curious stare with surprise.

‘Is it?’ she asked, consulting her watch and feeling unnervingly gauche and idiotic. ‘Oh, yes, so it is. I must have become a bit involved.’

‘So I see. Keep it up and you won’t feel the sting of my disapproval again.’

‘Yes, sir,’ she replied tartly, wanting to hit him, and his lips curved into a small smile.

‘I won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. I have two meetings tomorrow at Harlow and Ridgewood’s. Last-minute arrangements; they probably won’t be in your diary. Finish compiling the research into Santo Domingo, will you? I want to get all that off the ground by the end of the month. Latest. I take it you won’t object to doing a bit of overtime to get it all cleared?’

‘Of course not.’ Had he really expected any other answer? The question had been phrased in such a way as to negate any other reply. Not that she had any objection to overtime anyway. For the salary that Laura was being paid, working long hours was more or less expected.

Not, she thought, that her sister had allowed that line of reasoning to enter her mind from what Marcos had told her. She would have to confront Laura with that.

He strode towards the door, and Beth subconsciously thought how graceful his movements were for someone of his height and powerful build. Stealthy, she corrected herself. Like a jungle animal. He probably slept with one eye open as well.

He paused just as he was about to leave and threw over his shoulder, ‘By the way, if Angela calls, make some excuse. She’s being a bit of a nuisance.’

With that he clicked the door behind him and Beth frowned. Angela? Who on earth was Angela? She was obviously meant to know who Angela was and was expected to dispatch her efficiently out of his life. Was this all in the line of duty? Ha!

She spent the remainder of the afternoon ploughing through the stack of dictated tapes and messages in her tray, occasionally breaking off to take phone calls and to rummage through the computer files, gradually building up a picture of Marcos’s extensive business involvements.

There was much more to it than hotels, although they were by far the bulk of his business. Hotels spread across the world, from New York to Tokyo.

In addition he had investments in several electronics firms and software companies.

Had he built all this from nothing? Even if he had not, the man was clearly a dynamo in the concrete jungle.

When she next looked at her watch, it had gone seven o’clock and she hastily packed up. This, she reminded herself, was only a temporary excursion into the Adrino corporation. Filling in time until Laura could take over. It wouldn’t do to start becoming too involved.

Now she understood why her sister had been so keen to keep her feet in the company.

She made her way back on the Underground to Laura’s flat, which was in Swiss Cottage. It was a rented apartment. Very comfortable and large enough really for two people, but lacking in character. Nothing like her little place, but then you never had the incentive to do anything with property that did not belong to you, she supposed.

Laura, anyway, had never been terribly houseproud. While she could spend hours browsing in an antique shop, Laura had always been more than happy to flit from boutique to boutique, spending all her money on clothes.

And it showed, Beth thought wryly, as she prepared herself a light meal of tuna and French bread. Her sister’s wardrobe was about five times the size of hers and the clothes were way out of her price range.

As soon as she had eaten, she telephoned her sister, waiting in frustration as she heard the flat ringing tone. Surely Laura wouldn’t be out living it up, for heaven’s sake? She hardly knew a soul in Cambridge. Beth herself only had a handful of good friends there. She had told them that she was going to be away for a while and that her sister would be looking after her flat, but none of them knew any of the details and she didn’t care for the thought of Laura spilling them unwittingly.

Her train of thought was broken by Laura’s voice at the end of the line.

‘Beth,’ she heard the voice distantly, and felt a sudden pang of longing to be back in her flat in Cambridge and far away from this dreadful affair. ‘How was your first day at work?’ There was a brief pause, then she continued anxiously, ‘You made out all right, didn’t you?’

‘Oh, none of your colleagues recognised anything amiss,’ Beth began. ‘They commented on the change of hairstyle but that was about all, and I’ve been doing a lot of work getting myself up to the mark on your work.’

‘You will remember that it’s not permanent, won’t you?’

Beth smiled. ‘Of course I will. Believe me, working for Marcos Adrino, invigorating though the work might be, isn’t my cup of tea.’

She heard her sister gasp down the line and her smile broadened. She could imagine Laura’s expression of horror that she had been plunged into the deep end so suddenly.

‘But he’s not back in England until the end of the week,’ she wailed.

‘Well, then, he’s obviously more unpredictable than you thought. He was there when I got in, and I don’t have to tell you that I almost had a heart attack when I heard his voice from behind me.’ She shivered involuntarily.

‘What did you do? What did you say? You didn’t give the game away, did you?’ Laura’s voice had risen to a panicky squeak.

‘No, and don’t get so excited, for heaven’s sake. Not in your condition.’ She sat down on the sofa, curling her legs underneath her, her eyes absent-mindedly wandering over the television which she had switched on earlier, having turned down the volume to make the phone call. It was a cheap thriller of some sort, and the entire cast seemed to be wearing expressions of either bewilderment or guilt.

‘Well? Tell me all the details. Hang on, I’ll just settle down here. Your cushions are so delicate. You need some great big ones on the floor.’

‘Thanks, but try not to give in to the urge to redecorate my flat. You’ve done quite enough at the moment, what with redecorating my life.’

‘So spill the beans. Tell all.’