‘She couldn’t come?’ he asked mildly. ‘Why not?’
Having expected a savage explosion of that banked energy, Vivian was once more disconcerted by his apparent serenity.
She moistened her lower lip nervously, unconsciously emphasising its fullness. ‘She has flu.’
Janna was also sick with guilt and remorse, and the combination had made her pathetically easy to deceive. As far as her sister or anyone else knew, Vivian’s prime motive for taking her place on this trip was her desperate desire to get away from everyone for a while.
‘Convenient.’
She winced at the flick of the whip. Not so serene, after all.
‘Not for her. Janna hates being ill.’ Her younger sister was ambitious. As a newly qualified lawyer, working in Marvel-Mitchell Realties’ legal department, she had a rosy future ahead of her, one that Vivian intended to protect.
‘Messes up those gorgeous ice-blonde looks, I suppose,’ he said, casting a sardonic look at her wild ginger mane.
Vivian froze.
‘You knew,’ she whispered, feeling momentarily faint. Thank God the masquerade had only been intended to get her inside the door.
‘The moment I saw you.’
‘But you’ve never met Janna—or anyone from Marvel-Mitchell,’ she said hollowly. ‘Until now you’ve always insisted on dealing through an intermediary—’
‘So you decided to be honest, in spite of the fact I might be none the wiser for the deception. I’m impressed. Or was I supposed to be?’ he added cynically. ‘Are you always so honest, I wonder?’
‘I try to be.’ Her tartness reproved his cynicism.
‘A neat piece of sophistry. You try but you don’t necessarily always succeed, mmm?’ His voice hardened. ‘You can’t have been so naïve as to think I wouldn’t investigate the people I do business with? I’m not a fool.’
‘I never thought you were.’ But she had seriously underestimated his thoroughness.
‘I’m sure that Marvel, too, conducted its own investigations into my integrity…?’
It was a question rather than a comment, and Vivian answered it as such.
‘Other than maintaining a current credit check, Peter felt there was no need, since we’ve been buying and selling properties on your behalf for several years without any problems,’ she replied curtly. ‘In spite of never having met you, Peter considers you a trusted ally. So your personal integrity was naturally taken for granted, Mr Rose.’ Her green eyes were wide and innocent as she made the final, pointed statement.
‘Call me Nick, Vivian.’ His reaction was equal bland innocence. ‘Of course, one man’s integrity is another man’s poison. I don’t do business with cheats and liars.’
‘Very wise,’ she agreed distractedly, unnerved by his mention of poison. Was that supposed to be significant?
‘Are you patronising me, Miss Mitchell?’ he asked silkily, planting his feet back on the floor and leaning his torso threateningly towards her.
She was jolted out of her unsettling ruminations. ‘I prefer to think of it as pandering to your every annoying little whim,’ she said sweetly.
There was another small, dangerous silence. He seemed to specialise in them.
He rose, unfolding himself to his full height with sinister slowness.
‘Brave, aren’t you?’ he murmured.
The thin, menacing smile and the burning gold splinters in his eye told her it was not a compliment. ‘So… Instead of the lawyer I requested, Marvel-Mitchell Realties sends me a mere receptionist. A suspicious man might take that as an insult…’
‘But then, from your investigations you must know I’m not just a receptionist,’ Vivian defended herself. ‘I’m also Peter Marvel’s secretary-PA, and for the last eighteen months a full financial partner in the firm. I’m fully authorised to sign cheques and contracts on behalf of Marvel-Mitchell Realties.’
Not that she ever had. Up until now she had been quite happy to be
Peter’s sleeping partner—well, lightly dozing at any rate. She enjoyed her work and hadn’t looked on the investment of her unexpected inheritance in Peter’s firm as an excuse to throw her weight around the office, but rather as an investment in their shared future…