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‘Devastated.’ His expression was uncompromisingly hostile.
‘That’s awful. I wish I’d known.’ She leaned forward earnestly. ‘But you’ve heard my explanation. You must understand that I wouldn’t want to hurt him for the world.’
She took a sip of the surprisingly refreshing tea and looked at him over the rim of her cup. He seemed to be having a mental struggle over something. Hopefully she was coaxing him round.
‘He’s been through a lot recently. I won’t let anyone disturb his peace of mind,’ he stated flatly. ‘Your rejection—’
‘But I didn’t reject him!’ she cried in frustration.
‘He thinks you did.’ Stern and forbidding, he leaned forwards. ‘I’ll find you some snapshots of him to take away. Don’t give yourself grief by pursuing this. He won’t see you. Accept that and get on with your life.’
‘I can’t!’ she persisted. ‘He’s only upset because he was hurt when he didn’t hear from me. When he knows what happened—’
‘He won’t hear about it because I’m not telling him your story. Frankly, I just don’t believe that you answered him straight away.’
Incensed, she jumped up. ‘Then I’ll go look for him and tell him myself!’
His arm snaked out to stop her and he rose in one swift and graceful movement, coming to stand menacingly in front of her.
‘And I will be forced to prevent you,’ he said, very softly.
Jodie squeezed her eyes tightly, to prevent herself from crying in sheer helplessness.
‘Please hear me out!’ she begged, opening her eyes and staring miserably at his blurred face.
There was a long pause. She stopped breathing. She could hear his breath rasping loudly, feel it hot and quick on her mouth.
‘I’ll listen,’ he muttered. ‘But that’s all. Sit down. Sell yourself to me if you must.’
She sank gratefully into the seat. A brief reprieve. The next few minutes were crucial. Feeling oddly hot and flustered, she began to tremble.
‘You’re…being protective,’ she began croakily. ‘I understand that. It’s good to know someone’s been looking out for him. But, like you, I swear I only want what’s best for him.’
He grunted and slanted her a cynical glance. ‘I wonder. Would you surrender your own needs for his?’
‘Can you explain that remark?’ she asked in a guarded tone.
‘If you really cared for him,’ he said quietly, ‘you’d do what was in his best interests, not yours.’
She raised one eyebrow. ‘And his best interests are…?’ He didn’t answer and dropped his gaze with a frown. Jodie felt a spurt of hope. ‘You’re not sure, are you?’ she cried shakily. ‘He’s insisting that he doesn’t want to see me—and you’re now wondering if he’s making a mistake! Morgan, think about this! You can’t in all decency stand between us! You’d have it on your conscience all your life if you didn’t at least try to persuade him to change his mind! You know that. I can see it in your face. Oh, please give me a chance!’
Morgan drew in a long, hard breath, his eyes betraying the doubts in his mind. Jodie’s pulses raced and she twisted her hands together nervously.
‘I need some time to think about it,’ he growled.
She beamed in delight. ‘That’s wonderful! Thank you!’ she cried passionately.
‘I’m only taking time to consider the situation. Nothing’s fundamentally changed. Don’t build up your hopes,’ Morgan warned.
She flung back her head and laughed, her eyes sparkling. ‘I’m an optimist. I have to hope! I want to hold my own father in my arms so much that I ache with longing!’
‘Then protect yourself from that hope. You could be badly hurt if I decide you must not see him,’ he said, his voice low and thick.
Jodie felt a tremor run right through her body. ‘It would break my heart,’ she breathed.
‘Better than you breaking his,’ Morgan observed.
‘But…why would I?’ she asked, bewildered. ‘How could I?’
‘Do you know anything about him?’ he shot.
‘No, nothing! That’s what’s so awful—’
‘You know he lives in a large house,’ he pointed out cynically.
She drew herself up, insulted by the implication. ‘You think I care about his money? That’s not why I came! If you can’t identify truth and honesty and real affection when you hear it, then I feel sorry for you!’
His eyes flickered. ‘You’re making it very difficult for me, Jodie,’ he said, almost to himself.
She bit her lip, hardly able to bear the suspense which hung in the air between them so tautly she thought it almost crackled with tension. He seemed unable to tear his gaze away from her—and she found herself locked in his thrall.
‘Just…what is your connection with him?’ she asked, sobered by the power he could wield over her future.
‘I’m his right-hand man. He trusts me and my judgement.’ The dark eyes continued to bore remorselessly into hers.
She gulped, her head swimming. Tiredness. She had to push this on. ‘You could sway him, then?’ she said with difficulty.
‘If I wanted.’
‘Please want!’ she pleaded.
He jerked back a little, as if startled by what she’d said. There was a brief, hot melting of that intent gaze and she felt that at last she was getting somewhere.
He wasn’t as hostile. A faint warmth was emanating from him, an imperceptible softening of his hard-hewn face as he contemplated her, weighing her up, assessing everything about her.
She flushed, her mouth drying as his thick lashes fluttered and his downward gaze wandered to her bare throat, her breasts, and then to her legs, which she’d hooked over one another. She wanted to tug down the suddenly embarrassing short skirt to hide an inch or two of slender thigh, but that would have drawn attention there.
And now he was studying her parted lips, and she could actually feel them plumping up in some odd biological response. Hastily she sipped her tea, to occupy her wayward mouth and to avoid his scrutiny.
‘I stick to the bargain,’ he said huskily. ‘Try convincing me some more.’
She moistened her lips again before starting. ‘I’m twenty-four. I’ve spent all my working life in an advertising agency where I was on promotions. It was my job to persuade clients in any way I could to take up our ad campaigns—’
‘I bet you were very good at your job,’ he said, a curl of amusement lifting the corner of his craggy mouth.
‘I was!’ She furrowed her brow. ‘What else? I help two evenings a week at the retirement home nearby—’
‘Oh, please!’ he mocked. ‘You’re going too far—’
‘It’s true!’ she said indignantly. ‘I’ll give you the phone number and you can check!’
‘I’ll do that.’
‘Good—’
‘I suppose you’re kind to children and animals?’ he drawled.
‘No, at every opportunity I boil them up in oil—what do you think?’ she cried crossly. ‘I’m just an ordinary sort of person who tries to keep on the straight and narrow and live a decent life—’
‘Not that ordinary. You have a boyfriend?’
‘Is that relevant?’ she asked in surprise.
‘Could be,’ came the enigmatic answer.
She shrugged. OK, so be it. She’d tell him her bust size and weight if it helped her cause.
‘The answer’s no. I’ve just dumped him,’ she said with a grimace. ‘He was an arrogant controller who’d tried to mould me into his version of the perfect woman!’ Her mouth quirked at his raised eyebrow.
‘Did he fail?’ Morgan asked, clearly doing his best to hide his amusement.
‘Dismally. My problem is that I’m highly allergic to thongs!’ she said with a giggle.
As she’d expected, he did a double-take, and for a second or two she thought his eyes showed a flicker of genuine interest. Then the impenetrable shutters came down again.
‘So when your relationship broke up,’ he drawled, ‘you decided to give your father in England a whirl, for want of something better?’
‘No! It wasn’t like that at all!’ she said, bristling. ‘Hearing from my father was the catalyst for change. My boyfriend’s attitude to a reunion with my father was unsympathetic and obstructive. OK, I took my time realising this, but eventually I did—and saw my boyfriend for what he was. A selfish, manipulative, bullying brute!’ She pinned Morgan with a determined stare. ‘I’ve spent the last seven years being walked over. I won’t be pushed around any more—not by anyone,’ she said meaningfully.
‘I think you’ve made that apparent,’ he murmured.
Had she gone too far? She looked at him edgily. ‘So what’s your verdict?’
‘The jury’s out,’ he drawled.
A sudden feeling of hopelessness washed over her. He was playing with her, leading her on. Fatigue and disappointment made her limbs leaden and her brain ragged as she tried to keep up the pressure on him.
‘Look. I’m shattered. I haven’t the energy to joust with you but I am desperate to see my father,’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘If it makes it any easier for you, I totally understand that if he eventually decides that he wants to live his life without me—then that’s his choice to make and I will have to accept his decision.’
Morgan nodded in approval. ‘Good! That’s settled, then,’ he murmured with satisfaction.
She saw tension ease from him and felt her own nerves tighten. It looked as if he was going to send her away with a flea in her ear! Annoyed, she fixed him with her brilliant green eyes and grimly set about persuading him to plead on her behalf.
‘However,’ she said sweetly, ‘I’m sure you’ll agree that it should be his decision, based on personal knowledge of me. It would be wrong if he didn’t even see me face-to-face, so that I could explain that there might have been a mix-up with the mail,’ she added, being generous about her suspicions concerning Morgan’s part in the ‘mix-up’.
‘He still might not believe you,’ he suggested cynically.
‘Oh, yes, he would! He’d look into my eyes and find the truth there!’ she insisted stubbornly, passion pouring from her blazing eyes. ‘You have seen his letter and read his sentiments. He must still care about me deep down! I’m convinced he’ll be overjoyed that I’ve turned up! You may not have read enough of his letter to me to know that he mentioned he’d just moved house—and that he had something special to tell me. I’ve been consumed with curiosity ever since. You can’t deny me the right to see my own father, not when he was initially so anxious that we should be reunited! He must want me, mustn’t he?’
Morgan scowled at his tea. His mouth tightened and then he gave a small exhalation of breath. Jodie waited, tense with anticipation.
‘Perhaps,’ he hedged reluctantly.
Jodie gasped and clasped her hands in delight, drawing his dark, assessing gaze. ‘So I’m close to passing muster?’ she asked with a relieved laugh, her eyes spangled with deep jade lights.
‘You’re persuasive,’ was all he’d say.
It was enough for her. The moment had come! She jumped up eagerly. ‘Let me ask him! Lead me to him! I just can’t wait any longer, Morgan. I’ll burst if you keep me dangling in suspense!’
He shifted uncomfortably. ‘It’s…not that simple—’
‘Why not?’ she cried in exasperation.
He leant back in his chair, studying her expressionlessly. ‘He’s not here.’
Jodie’s jaw dropped in dismay and she gave a little gasp of disappointment.
‘Not…here! But I imagined…hoped… Oh, when’s he coming back?’ she wailed.
‘Not…today,’ he dissembled.
She slumped back into the chair, totally depressed. ‘None of this is working out as I expected,’ she said morosely. ‘This means I’ll have to get back into that wretched car, battle my way along the wrong side of the road and search for the hotel.’ Her head lolled back and she heaved a heavy sigh. ‘It’s not a prospect I relish. I feel shattered. I’ve been living on adrenaline for days. You can’t have any idea what this meeting means to me, Morgan!’
‘Have a piece of cake,’ he suggested gruffly.
‘Keep my strength up?’ Dejectedly she took the plate and picked at the fruit cake in a desultory fashion as her thoughts came tumbling out. ‘It’s my fault, I suppose,’ she mused. ‘I should have waited for a reply to the recorded delivery. But I was mad keen to see him.’ She met his gaze, her eyes clouded with sadness.
‘Why is it so important to you?’ he asked quietly.
‘Because he’s the only family I’ve got now. He and my mother separated when I was a year old. Mom and her boyfriend took me to New York and we lost touch with my father. Mom died when I was six—’
‘Your mother is dead?’ he broke in sharply.
‘Yes,’ she replied, too engrossed in her own problems to pay much attention to his alerted state.
‘God!’ he groaned. ‘Eighteen years ago! If only Sam had known!’
A film of tears washed over her eyes at the implication that her father would have contacted her sooner.
‘Mom wasn’t much of a mother, but she was better than my foster-parents. All this time I thought I had no living relative in the whole world! W-when my f-father wrote—’ She broke off, a lump filling her throat.
‘I don’t need to hear this,’ Morgan rasped.
‘You do!’ she cried passionately, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘I want you to know what this means to me! I discovered that my father was alive! It was the most wonderful present I could ever have been given. He was in England, walking, breathing, sleeping… I couldn’t think straight. I went around the apartment in a daze, bursting into song…’
Unable to stop herself, she flung her arms in the air in an impassioned gesture as she relived those first joyful hours. His eyes flickered with a strange, glittering light and she faltered, bringing her arms down quickly, lest he think she was mad. But he had to know the intensity of her feelings!
‘Morgan,’ she explained fervently, ‘you had to be there to see me! I danced, I hugged myself breathless, ate a whole tub of ice cream…! Oh,’ she cried, husky with the memory, ‘I was so happy I felt delirious. I grinned at everyone I met. New York reeled! For days I walked on air—and then every so often I’d burst into tears. I felt so far away from him, you see.’
