Eloise stared, transfixed. It was an excellent copy of her handwriting, but in fact it wasn’t even her real surname.
‘I never signed this.’ She cast a wild look over her shoulder at Marcus. ‘You must believe me, I have never seen it before. My name is Smith,’ she cried.
‘So, five years ago you were not masquerading as Chloe’s sister, you were not on Rykos, and you know nothing about the contract?’ he drawled sardonically. ‘Please spare me the lies. I was there, remember?’
‘No, yes—no.’ Eloise glanced back down at the paper in her hand. ‘Chloe must have forged my signature,’ she murmured in stricken disbelief at her mother’s deceit, and her heart sank as she realised the futility of trying to explain.
Marcus was right; she had been acting as Chloe’s sister on the island. A good lawyer would make mincemeat of her claim to be innocent of any knowledge of the affair. She let the document flutter from her hand to the desk and in the process saw the blue folder.
‘Oh, no!’ she exclaimed, wide eyed with horror she stared at the folder. She knew exactly what it contained before she even opened it. But she made herself open it. She had to have her worst fear confirmed.
‘Oh, yes, Eloise.’ Marcus appeared at her side, and handed her a crystal glass. ‘I think you might need this now,’ he said with a grim smile.
She took the glass and took a hasty swallow. Brandy or whisky, she wasn’t sure—but, coughing violently, she brushed past Marcus and slid down onto the sofa in a movement singularly lacking in grace. The glass clasped in her hand, every vestige of colour drained from her face, and not even the alcohol could replace it. How could her own mother have done that to her?
Not only had Chloe forged her signature on the contract, the folder contained a copy of the project Eloise had completed for college. The only difference was Chloe had named herself as architect of the plan instead of Eloise. It was a complex business plan including the costings and all the design work, publicity etc, in setting up Eloise By Design, aimed at the top end of the market. It had been Eloise’s ambition and dream career. She had received top marks for the assignment.
Later, when Chloe had appeared and Eloise had rather shyly shown her prize-winning project to her mother, she’d been thrilled when for the first time in her life Chloe had taken an interest in what she was studying. Chloe had told her she was very talented, very clever, and she was very proud of her. Naturally, when her mother asked if she could keep it as a memento, Eloise had said yes.
She took another mouthful of the fiery spirit; she needed it. Never in a million years would it have crossed Eloise’s mind that her mother would use her assignment as a means to get money out of a man. But, from the little she had seen, that appeared to be exactly what her mother had done. Reeling with shock and the cringing sense of shame and humiliation she felt at her mother’s actions, she drained the glass in her hand.
The alcohol kicking in, Eloise leant back against the high-backed sofa, and closed her eyes for a second, the enormity of her mother’s deception almost impossible to bear. Slowly she opened her eyes, and cast a covert look at Marcus beneath the shadow of her long lashes. He had shed his jacket and tie, and his shirt lay open at his tanned throat. He was leaning negligently against the fireplace, twirling a glass of whisky in one hand, as though he had not a care in the world.
Well, bully for him, she thought bitterly, aggression taking over from humiliation. Marcus was not getting away with blaming her. ‘So my mother apparently conned your uncle into investing in a mythical company. Big deal! That was his mistake.’ And she offered a grudging explanation, though she did not think the arrogant jerk deserved it. ‘As for the business plan she used, yes, it was mine. My end of year’s assignment at art college, nothing more. My mother kept it as a memento. But KHE is not the same company, and your uncle’s problem has nothing to do with me,’ Eloise declared defiantly and, picking up her purse, she stood up. ‘And given they are both dead I very much doubt the dead can sue anyone,’ she ended caustically.
He must take her for a prize fool. It hurt her deeply that her mother had used her idea, but that did not make Eloise responsible, and she’d never seen any of the money. Marcus had no case. She was calling his bluff…
‘You should stick to designing, Eloise; your grasp of law is negligible. I am the executor of Theo’s estate and as such can sue on behalf of his family,’ Marcus informed her curtly, a dark gleam simmering like the threat of a lightning storm in the back of his fierce gaze. ‘The name you were using at the time is on the contract. Eloise By Design or KHE, the intention and setting up of the company was the same. I also happen to know Theo’s money ended up in a joint bank account between you and your mother. I also know you emptied the account to buy the London property you use for business.’
Eloise froze, her hand tightening in a death grip on her purse, her knuckles gleaming white with the strain. ‘Oh, my God!’ she gasped. She had forgotten all about the joint account. The account her mother had insisted on setting up supposedly to keep the money from the sale of the family home between them. The money Eloise had wanted to give her outright. The account Eloise had never touched until after her mother’s death. She had been amazed at the amount of money her mother had left her. But, as her mother’s lawyer had pointed out at the time, Chloe had been a very successful business woman.
But what kind of business—thieving? She had even stolen from her own daughter!
There could be no doubt about it, Chloe had actually used Eloise’s college project to con Theo Toumbis into thinking he was investing in a new company, and forged Eloise’s signature…
Sadly Eloise realised she had never really known her mother at all. She had carried an idealised version of a brilliantly successful, elegant woman in her heart and mind for so long, the realisation it was all a myth was a brutal blow and her disillusionment was total.
‘Waiting for divine intervention is not going to help you.’ Marcus’s mocking voice split the lengthening silence. ‘You have two choices, my deal or the courts. So what is it to be?’
Little did he know Eloise thought bitterly, that there was no choice at all! She could not go to court…not after what had happened. She risked a glance at his rock-hard profile, the innate ruthlessness in every chiselled line, and any thought of pleading with him died a death. Not that she would have done that anyway, she immediately corrected. She had fought too long and hard for her pride and self-esteem to throw it away on a pig like Marcus.
Drawing on all her considerable will power, she slowly sat back down on the sofa. ‘Why are you doing this?’ She lifted glacial green eyes to his face. ‘Why invest in a company you want to ruin?’
‘Admittedly, that wasn’t my first plan. Theo was a fool; he gave money to your mother at a time when he was expanding his holiday development on Rykos. It was money he could not afford, and for the next four years he struggled with a cash flow problem, but was too proud to ask for my help. He only mentioned the matter to me a week before he died when his company was going bankrupt.’
‘Bankrupt.’ Eloise almost groaned out loud; it was getting worse by the second.
‘Obviously, as executor of his estate, it is my responsibility to make sure his wife and daughter do not suffer from his stupidity. Revenge is a totally human emotion, and, I admit, I went seeking it from your mother. It took some time for the detective agency I hired to track her down, only to discover she was dead, and there was no sister, only a daughter—it took a while longer to track you down,’ Marcus declared harshly.
‘But in memory of the innocent girl I once knew, I intended to give you the benefit of the doubt. I told myself you were young and probably influenced by your crooked mother. I checked you and KHE out and saw it was a quite profitable company with potential, and I was prepared to simply ask for Theo’s investment back over time.’
He had remembered her, and he had been prepared to believe her. That went a long way to improving Eloise’s view of him. ‘That’s a good idea,’ she agreed, a glimmer of hope lighting her eyes for a moment. ‘I’m sure we can come to some arrangement…’
‘Oh, no, Eloise, that option has gone.’ In two lithe strides he was standing over her. ‘I was prepared to compromise my own convictions because I wanted you in my bed, to finish what we started five years ago. But not any more,’ Marcus responded with silken softness. ‘Not when I discovered after sharing my bed you quite happily admitted to having shared Ted Charlton’s not twenty-four hours earlier, simply to get his money for your business,’ he reminded her, his black eyes raking over her in utter contempt. ‘You were obviously up to your old tricks again.’
‘That’s a lie,’ Eloise gasped, so horrified by his unjust and ridiculous accusation she could only stare up at him.
‘And I am supposed to believe you?’ One dark brow arched sardonically. He watched every last scrap of colour slide from her cheeks. God, but she was good, he thought cynically, before adding, ‘No way.’