Secret Passion. Carole MortimerЧитать онлайн книгу.
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Secret Passion
Carole Mortimer
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE man seated behind the imposing desk was not the one Aura had come here to see, and the light of battle began to fade from her eyes.
She turned sharply to the secretary who had been about to show her into the office. ‘I think there has been some sort of mistake——’
‘No mistake, Miss Jones.’ The man behind the desk stood up as he spoke, and Aura immediately understood the reason for the dark, solid furniture in the room; this man would have looked ridiculous against any other background.
He was very tall, well over six feet, with a lithe body not usually seen on a man who worked behind a desk all day, the superbly tailored suit he wore emphasising his lean masculinity. Just to look at him was to get a feeling of power, of barely leashed strength.
Aura took in his appearance in a matter of seconds, even acknowledged that he had an attraction that was as powerful as his body: thick dark hair neatly styled to his ears and collar, its slight inclination to curl ruthlessly kept in check, brilliant green eyes that looked her over speculatively as she stood poised in the doorway, his mouth a sensual slash beneath an arrogantly jutting nose, his jaw square and firm.
But it wasn’t what he looked like that concerned her, but who he was!
‘Thank you, Moira.’ He smoothly dismissed his secretary as he strode across the room to close the door behind Aura. ‘Please, sit down,’ he invited softly.
She had come prepared to do battle, and instead she had been greeted by a complete stranger. Where was Adrian? She looked about her awkwardly.
‘Please,’ the man prompted again, his eyes narrowed at her apparent reluctance to stay now that she was here.
Aura sat down in the chair that he had indicated facing his desk, wishing she had thought to telephone to make an appointment before rushing over here. But she had been so angry …!
Her mouth tightened as she remembered the reason for her anger, sherry-brown eyes sparkling warningly. ‘I came here to see——’
‘Mr Mayhew,’ the man finished as he moved softly around the desk to resume his seat.
Mr Mayhew? She hadn’t called Adrian anything that formal for weeks!
‘I’m afraid he isn’t here at the moment,’ the man excused lightly. ‘And as you said, the matter you need to discuss was of some importance … My name is Ballantine, Miss Jones,’ he added briskly as she still looked uncertain. ‘Mr Mayhew and I are business partners.’
Her eyes widened. James Ballantine; he wasn’t at all what she had expected Adrian’s partner to look like!
Adrian gave the impression that he worked with a much older man, and yet Aura was sure this man couldn’t be much older than his mid-thirties, possibly a little younger, which would make him only four or five years Adrian’s senior. Adrian spoke of the other man as if he were Methuselah!
Her mouth tightened as she remembered her reason for being here, and the fact that Adrian couldn’t be relied upon to be completely honest about anything, let alone admit that his partner was really a powerfully attractive man.
‘I really would prefer to see Mr Mayhew,’ she bit out tautly.
Dark brows rose over speculative green eyes, deep slashes of displeasure grooved into his lean cheeks as his mouth firmed. ‘I believe I just told you my partner isn’t available at this time.’ His voice had hardened too. ‘I can assure you, Miss Jones, that anything you wished to say to Mr Mayhew you can now say to me.’ Those grooves in his cheeks disappeared as his mood relented a little, although his impatience was barely concealed behind the polite façade.
Aura gave an inward sigh. She certainly couldn’t say any of the things to this man she had intended saying to Adrian!
But there was still the problem of the letter; that wouldn’t go away, no matter which of the partners she talked to.
She looked closely at the man facing her; had Adrian told his partner about her, had they laughed together as Adrian made one of those man-to-man jokes about her? James Ballantine returned her gaze steadily enough, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t completely aware of Adrian’s ‘personal’ interest in her the last few weeks.
But what choice did she have, it was either talk to this man or no one. And there was always the possibility that she had misjudged Adrian. Although she didn’t think she had.
She opened her clutch-bag to take out the official-looking envelope. ‘I received this this morning.’ She thrust the unfolded letter across the desk at James Ballantine, normally tranquil brown eyes snapping with anger.
Long lean fingers took the letter from her grasp, while the other hand lifted black-rimmed glasses that had rested on the desk top, to place them high on the bridge of his nose. He briefly scanned the letter, his brows raised questioningly as he once again looked up at her. ‘This seems very straightforward.’ He placed the letter down on his desk, regarding her through the slightly tinted lenses of his glasses.
She was well aware of the ‘straightforwardness’ of the letter, knew the exact wording on the single sheet of paper without needing to read it again. The lawyers who acted for Ballantine and Mayhew had written to inform her that the lease that ran out on her shop next month would not be open for renewal, and could she please have the premises vacated by the given date!
The letter had been waiting for her just inside the door of the shop this morning, and after making a few telephone calls she had left her assistant in charge while she went to see Adrian. The last thing she had expected was that Adrian would be out and that she would have to deal with his partner instead. Did this man have any idea of the vindictiveness behind the letter? He wasn’t a man who revealed his thoughts easily, and the glasses acted as another shield to his emotions.
‘The wording of the letter is very clear,’ she acknowledged tightly.
He frowned at the admission. ‘Then what appears to be the problem?’
‘The problem, Mr Ballantine,’ she bit out tautly, ‘is that when I signed the initial lease two years ago it was with the understanding that it would be renewable at the end of that time.’
‘Subject