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Undying Love. Carole MortimerЧитать онлайн книгу.

Undying Love - Carole  Mortimer


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      ‘I doubt I would like your changes, Mr Dalmont.’

      ‘Even if they are for the good of Fashion Lady?’ His eyes were narrowed.

      ‘In your opinion!’ she scorned. ‘Since when did you become an expert on publishing, Mr Dalmont?’

      ‘Since I bought Fashion Lady and made it my business to be!’ he snapped angrily, stopping a passing taxi to open the door for her to get inside, leaning on the open window after closing the door behind her. ‘I’ll be seeing you, Shanna,’ he told her grimly before nodding to the driver to take her back to her office.

      Shanna stared straight ahead as the taxi moved off into the heavy London traffic, knowing Rick Dalmont’s last words had been in the form of a threat. She would indeed be ‘seeing’ him—he would make sure of that.

      It wasn’t until she got back to her office that she realised that, except for her asking about Jane, they hadn’t discussed business at all during lunch. Rick Dalmont was more than distrustful, he was dangerous!

      ‘What a shock!’ Jane came into her office on her return. ‘I had no idea Fashion Lady was for sale.’

      Shanna grimaced. ‘Neither did I until yesterday.’

      Jane’s eyes widened. She was a pretty woman in her early twenties, the same as Shanna, her blonde hair kept short and easily styled, her make-up light and attractive, her clothes always fashionably smart. ‘Henry didn’t tell you?’ She sounded surprised.

      ‘Not until it was too late.’

      ‘Mm—well, Mr Dalmont does have the financial backing Fashion Lady needs.’

      She frowned. ‘You don’t mind that he’s the new boss?’

      Jane shrugged. ‘I know it must be difficult for you, with Henry being your brother, but a boss is a boss as far as I’m concerned. The way things are for unemployment in this country at the moment we’re all lucky to have jobs at all.’

      Jane’s down-to-earth attitude was something she needed at the moment. They were all lucky to have a job, and jobs as editors didn’t come along every day, she doubted she would be lucky enough to find another one, even with references.

      It was something that bothered her as she prepared to go out later that evening. Financially she didn’t need to work, both Perry and her father had left her very well off, but mentally and emotionally…? Heavens, she couldn’t spend her days sitting around the apartment just counting the minutes away! That would only lead to thoughts of Perry, of the last traumatic months of their marriage.

      Damn, she was thinking about it already! She had taken great care to fill all of her time, with work in the day, sometimes until she felt like collapsing, and with a round of parties in the evenings. She rarely gave herself time to think, let alone dwell on the past.

      And tonight would be no exception! So she would be out of a job in three months, she would find something else, she would make sure she did.

      She looked her usual cool and composed self later that evening when she arrived at Steven and Alice Grant’s for dinner. The middle-aged couple were old friends of her father’s, and her own friendship with them had continued even after his death. This evening was a celebration of their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and she knew Alice was pleased with the jade figurine Shanna had given her to add to her already extensive collection.

      She already knew most of the other guests at the Grant house, and made a beeline for her brother as she spotted him across the room, a smiling Janice at his side.

      ‘Going somewhere?’ drawled the familiar gravel and honey voice that she was beginning to feel was haunting her.

      She schooled her features to remain calm, turning slowly to face Rick Dalmont. Goodness, he was dressed to kill tonight! The black velvet jacket fitted smoothly across his powerful shoulders, the white of his shirt making his skin appear swarthier than ever, his black trousers moulded to the lean length of his long legs. His dark eyes were filled with amusement as he met and held her gaze, his black hair brushed back from its side-parting to rest low over his ears and collar. He held a drink in his hand, evidence that he had been here for some time.

      ‘Good evening, Mr Dalmont,’ she greeted softly.

      He moved closer to her. ‘Hello, Shanna.’

      ‘We do seem to—keep meeting.’

      ‘No, we don’t seem to do anything,’ he drawled. ‘But then I’m sure you already knew that.’

      ‘Steven and Alice are friends of yours?’ She ignored the intimacy of his tone.

      He shook his head. ‘I’ve never met them before this evening.’

      She gasped. ‘You gatecrashed their party?’

      His mouth quirked. ‘I came with Henry and Janice.’

      Shanna’s mouth tightened as she shot a resentful glare at her unsuspecting brother. ‘I should have known! Well, if you’ll excuse me——’

      ‘No,’ his hand on her arm stopped her leaving. ‘I’m still trying to be pleasant, as I tried at lunchtime,’ he smiled tightly. ‘But you angered me then, and you’re angering me now,’ he added tautly. ‘What do you think I can possibly do to you here, Shanna?’ He looked pointedly about the crowded room.

      She blushed at the rebuke of his words, and knew she was behaving ridiculously. There were at least forty people in the room; not even Rick Dalmont would try anything here.

      ‘Exactly,’ he correctly read her thoughts. ‘Although most women don’t show such aversion to the thought of my wanting to make love to them.’

      ‘I’m not most women,’ she snapped.

      ‘I agree, you aren’t.’ He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, holding it there with his other hand. ‘Which probably accounts for the way I ache for you,’ he lowered his voice seductively. ‘Put my plain speaking down to my Spanish ancestry,’ he chuckled at her tight-lipped outrage. ‘I want you very badly, Shanna.’

      ‘You told me that the other evening,’ she dismissed abruptly. ‘And what you’re talking about is sex, Mr Dalmont, not making love.’

      ‘The way I would worship your body it would be making love,’ he murmured against her earlobe.

      ‘I——’

      ‘Ah, Shanna, you found Rick,’ Alice Grant, an attractive woman in her late forties, beamed at them both. ‘With the rush of the Sinclairs arriving at the same time as you I completely forgot to tell you Mr Dalmont had already arrived with Henry,’ she told Shanna hurriedly. ‘And how silly of you to think we wouldn’t have room for your—for Rick,’ she corrected awkwardly. ‘We’ve all been so worried about Shanna, Mr Dalmont,’ she confided to the silently watchful man at Shanna’s side. ‘We all miss Perry enormously, but Shanna really is too young and lovely a woman to deny her company to some lucky man.’

      Much as she liked Alice Grant, who was the nearest thing she had to an aunt, Shanna could cheerfully have strangled her at that moment. And this ‘lucky man’ was going to be told a few home truths as soon as they were alone! How dared he have implied to Alice that he was her partner for this evening!

      ‘I do consider myself very lucky, Mrs Grant,’ Rick drawled confidently. ‘And I’ve also been very worried about Shanna. But she has me now, don’t you, sweetheart?’ He looked down at her in mocking challenge.

      Anger lit up her eyes. ‘I——’

      ‘Ah, the Daniels have arrived,’ Alice sighed her relief. ‘Steven’s boss,’ she confided softly. ‘I’ll talk to you both later,’ and she hurried to be at her husband’s side as he greeted the other couple.

      Shanna wrenched away from Rick Dalmont, breathing deeply in her


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