The Tycoon's Trophy Mistress. Lee WilkinsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
you were once the press’s Golden Boy?’
‘I was until I proved to be uncooperative… Which I can never accuse you of being.’ Smoothly he changed the subject. ‘I hope agreeing to make this transfer so soon didn’t cause you too many problems?’
‘No, not at all.’
‘You’re not leaving behind anyone special? A boyfriend, perhaps?’
‘No.’
Only too pleased to have Sheering’s report confirmed, Daniel queried, ‘How did you manage with regard to your flat?’
‘The flat is a rented one I share with an old school friend, so that was no problem.’
‘Most people would have balked at being parted from their families this close to Christmas.’
Her voice under control she said, ‘I have no family to share Christmas with.’
He waited.
When she failed to mention her stepbrother, Daniel wondered why. Even though he was her boss, he couldn’t believe she lacked either the will or the courage to confront him.
Ready to tell her how much he regretted what had happened, to explain his part in it, he asked a number of careful questions, skirting round the family issue, giving her every chance to bring things into the open.
When she failed to do so he was forced to conclude that, for whatever reason, she had made up her mind to say nothing.
Though he himself would have preferred to confront the issue, if she had decided to leave the past behind then, for the time being at least, he would go along with that.
Charlotte, having answered his questions with at least outward composure, was feeling a little more sure of herself. Even so, she seemed unable to get her act together.
Though she knew she might never have this kind of opportunity again, and she should be making the most of it, she could think of nothing sparkling to say, no way to interest him.
When the silence began to stretch, reasonably satisfied with how things had gone so far, Daniel asked, ‘Have you ever been to New York before?’
Relieved to move on to this new subject, she answered, ‘No, I haven’t, though I’ve always wanted to go.’
‘I hope you’ll enjoy the experience.’
‘I’m sure I will.’
Then, seizing the chance to carry on with the conversation, ‘What’s it like, living in New York?’
‘It’s overcrowded, and the traffic is a nightmare. In summer it can be hot and dusty and airless, and in winter cold and bleak and snowy.
‘In common with most cities it has its share of crime and deprivation and weirdos. But in the past it’s always been alive and vibrant. Synonymous with exciting.
‘These days it’s like an old dog that, though it’s been badly beaten, is still brave and beautiful. And you’ll find that most New Yorkers are great. They have the same kind of indomitable spirit that Londoners do.
‘I’ve always thought New York was a wonderful place to be, and I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.
‘Having said that, however, I don’t lose sight of the fact that I’m one of the fortunate ones, with a home in a pleasant area and a chauffeur-driven car.
‘When it’s too hot and humid I can move out to the beaches on Long Island, and when it’s miserable and slushy underfoot I can travel Upstate to the virgin snow of the Catskills.’
‘It sounds idyllic.’
‘As I say, I’m one of the lucky ones.’
When she said no more he steered the conversation towards the latest news.
Charlotte followed his lead and until they reached the airport, like polite strangers, they talked about what was happening in the world.
As the limousine drew up outside Departures, with a sinking heart Charlotte realized that her chance to make the right kind of impression on Daniel Wolfe was gone. As soon as the chauffeur had finished unloading their luggage she and her companion would no doubt part company.
The best she dared hope for was that she had made enough of an impact that once in New York he might possibly renew contact to ask how she was getting on.
But when, having smiled and thanked him for the lift, she said goodbye and prepared to go, he shook his head. ‘Stick with me, Miss Michaels.’
‘But I have to pick up my ticket.’
‘That’s all taken care of. We’re both booked on the same plane.’
Before she had got over her amazement he had gathered her up and, a hand at her waist, swept her along with him as though she were his equal rather than his employee.
At five feet seven inches she was fairly tall for a woman, but he must be a minimum of six feet three inches, she guessed, and seemed even bigger because of the breadth of his shoulders.
Focused and powerful, he moved lithely and fast on the balls of his feet, a tight mass of coiled energy, and she found herself almost trotting to keep up with his long strides.
Travelling with Daniel Wolfe, she soon found, was a totally new experience. VIP treatment smoothed their path and added immeasurably to their ease and convenience.
After being whisked through the formalities, they were served with a tray of excellent coffee before boarding the big jet and being shown to a pair of First Class seats.
Charlotte was staggered. Surely it hadn’t happened by chance? She shot him a puzzled glance.
He raised a dark brow. ‘Something wrong?’
‘No…I just didn’t think… I mean, I hadn’t expected that we’d be on the same plane, let alone sitting together.’
His silvery eyes on her face, he queried mildly, ‘I hope the prospect of having me sitting next to you during the flight doesn’t seriously bother you?’
‘N-no, of course not. I’m just surprised.’
‘As we were travelling at the same time, I told my secretary to book adjacent seats. I found the thought of a little company welcome. I hope you do?’
‘Very welcome,’ Charlotte assured him with her most fetching smile.
So was the unaccustomed luxury.
Used to being crowded into economy, she was staggered by how very comfortable and spacious the First Class area was.
In spite of her tension, or maybe because of it, almost as soon as they were airborne she found herself having to stifle a yawn.
‘Tired?’ he queried, proving he missed nothing.
‘I didn’t get much sleep last night,’ she admitted.
‘Over-excited?’
‘Probably.’
‘Then why not have a little nap before lunch?’
She shook her head. ‘I have been known to fall asleep in cars and buses, but never on planes.’
Taking off his jacket he queried, ‘Any particular reason?’
Without intending to she found herself telling him the truth. ‘I can’t relax enough. I’m never really happy flying. My father was killed in a plane crash.’
‘I’m sorry. How long ago was that?’
‘Six years.’
‘I’m sorry. And what about your mother?’
‘My mother died when I was quite young and my father married again.’
‘His dying like that must have been hard on both you and