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‘You’re being a fool, Miss Lewis.’
The humour had fled his voice. His tone was sharp, his grasp unyielding as he caught her by the shoulders and hauled her around to face him. Hannah met his cold gaze with one of her own.
‘Stop now,’ she said quietly, ‘and I’ll forget this ever happened.’
MacLean’s eyes narrowed. ‘Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it can be dangerous to make threats?’
‘Or do you prefer that I report you?’
‘Listen here, young woman——’
‘No, sir, you listen here. I am not interested in—in fun and games, do you understand? I’m not interested in destroying your career, either, but if you persist in…’ Her words faded to silence. He was smiling again. Smiling, damn him! ‘I assure you,’ she said through her teeth, ‘there’s nothing funny about this.’
‘Fantastic,’ he said softly. ‘Five months of “Yes, Mr MacLean, no, Mr Maclean,” five months and never another word out of you, and now here you are, threatening to bring the roof down on my head.’
‘And I will, if you don’t——’
‘I am not trying to seduce you.’
Colour stole into Hannah’s cheeks. ‘I can hardly disagree with that,’ she said. ‘Seduction is supposed to be subtle, but this approach of yours is——’
‘Thank you for the clarification, Miss Lewis. I’m sure it will prove useful in my relationships with women. Now, if you’d just pay attention to me for a minute——’
‘I’ll count to three,’ she said, folding her arms over her breasts, ‘and then——’
‘Shall I put it more bluntly?’
‘You’ve been blunt enough. If I were you——’
‘If you were me,’ he said, his tone frigid, ‘you would know that you are the last woman on earth I’d ask to be my mistress, Miss Lewis.’
‘One. Two. Th…’ Suddenly, his words penetrated. She stared at him. ‘What?’
His smile vanished; his brows drew together in a harsh frown. ‘You’re my assistant, for God’s sake. You’re not a woman.’
The breath puffed from Hannah’s lungs. ‘Oh,’ she said, her voice small and puzzled.
MacLean nodded. ‘All I’m interested in,’ he said, stroking his finger across his chin, ‘is a bit of harmless deception.’
She shook her head in confusion. ‘I—I don’t understand.’
He turned and strode across the room. When he reached the windows, he rocked back on his heels, stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets, and paid rapt attention to the view.
‘I’ve a party to attend this evening.’
‘Yes, I know. The reception for the principals in the Hungarian deal. I noted it on your calendar myself.’
‘An hour of ridiculous chit-chat,’ he said coldly, ‘fuelled by pricey champagne that flows like water and enough canapés to feed an army, then a five-course meal catered by Julia Childs’ latest guru, all interspersed with a dozen turns around the dance-floor…’
Hannah couldn’t help but smile. ‘How terrible for you.’
MacLean swung towards her. His scowl had deepened so that there were two harsh curves rimming his mouth.
‘I’m sure my distress stirs your heart, Miss Lewis. But I assure you, it will be a horrible few hours. Oh, I can survive the food and the drinks, I suppose, and the dance band. But an evening of Magda Karolyi…’ A shudder went through him. ‘God, that’s more than any man should have to bear!’
‘Magda Karolyi?’ It sounded like an exotic dessert, but from the look on her boss’s face it was bound to be more than that.
‘The sister of the head of the Hungarian group. We met in Budapest last year, when I was there putting this deal together.’
‘Mr MacLean.’ Hannah cleared her throat. ‘This is all very interesting, sir. But——’
‘She’s a very attractive woman.’ A slow wave of colour beat up under the tanned skin that lay across his high cheekbones. ‘And she’s—she’s taken an interest in me.’
Hannah stared at him. ‘She’s taken an…?’
‘Dammit,’ he snarled, ‘must I spell it out? The bloody woman did everything but crawl into my bed in Budapest. Avoiding her was like walking a tightrope; I only got away with it because I kept claiming I was too busy with meetings and planning sessions to—to accommodate.’ His eyes flashed to Hannah’s, the coldness in them daring her to so much as smile, but she was far too amazed that he should reveal all this about himself to reaet with anything but rapt attention. ‘She’s the apple of her brother’s eye.’
‘The brother who’s in charge of——’
‘Yes.’ MacLean blew out his breath. ‘If she’s not happy, he’s not happy.’
‘Are you saying that—that he’ll expect you to—to…?’
‘No, of course not! He won’t “expect” me to do anything—except be nice to her. Pleasant. Gracious.’ His mouth twisted. ‘All the things one human being generally tries to be to another.’
Hannah held out her hands. ‘Well, then, I don’t see…’
‘The trouble is that Magda is sure to misinterpret everything and anything—including the fact that I’m going to show up at this damned party without a woman on my arm.’
‘Then why will you? I mean, why didn’t you ask someone to go with you?’
‘Dammit, Miss Lewis, what do you take me for? I’m not a fool!’ He turned and paced from one end of the pale Berber carpet to the other, spine ramrod-straight, shoulders taut. ‘I had a date for this evening. But—but the lady and I have decided not to see each other for a while.’ Hannah said nothing, and the colour in his face darkened. ‘Our relationship had become—complicated.’
‘Like the Magda Karolyi thing?’ she said, staring at him.
‘No! Not at all.’ His glare was formidable. ‘Why is it women who start out claiming they are not interested in permanency so often are?’
‘Ah.’ Hannah nodded. ‘I see.’
‘The point is,’ he said coldly, ‘it’s left me in an awkward position. I have no choice but to attend this evening’s function, but I’ve no wish to do it alone.’ There was a dramatic pause. ‘And that’s where you come in.’
She stared at him. You arrogant bastard, she thought…
‘You want me to go to this party with you.’
‘Exactly.’
‘And pretend that we’re—involved.’
‘Yes.’
Hannah gave a sharp little laugh. ‘I’m sorry, Mr MacLean, but it’s out of the question.’
‘Why?’ The black scowl darkened his face again. ‘Why is it out of the question?’
‘What do you mean, why? It—it just is.’
‘That’s not a reason, that’s
a statement.’
‘I should think it’s obvious,’ she said. ‘Deception like that——’
‘I’d be the one doing the lying, not you. All you’d have to do is smile and say hello, drink some champagne and eat some of that damned stuff they call food at these overblown bashes. What’s so difficult about that?’
Hannah stared at him. How could he ask her such a question? And why should she want to make a fool of some woman she’d never even met? He made it sound as if he’d been an innocent in all this, but that didn’t mean anything.
‘What’s the problem, Miss Lewis? Don’t you believe me? I tell you, the woman’s trouble with a short fuse.’
And she was interested in Grant MacLean. That Hannah could believe. He was a good-looking man, she had to give him that. If you weren’t working for him, enduring his demands and his drive for perfection, he was probably a rather interesting male—if you liked the type.
‘Well?’ His voice was sharp. ‘What do you say?’
She looked up. She had already said it, but it was clear that he had no intention of listening to any answer but the one he wanted. He was watching her through narrowed eyes, arms folded across his chest, mouth set in a taut, narrow line. It was a sight she’d seen before, during meetings with important clients and their sometimes intractable opponents. The authoritative tone, the determined posture, even the cool, never-wavering set of those glacial grey eyes, all worked together to achieve his goal.
But Hannah wasn’t about to be intimidated. She had absolutely no intention of being part of his little game. If he was really having a problem with Magda Karolyi, it was up to him to get out of it on his own.
‘The party’s at the Mark Hopkins. Have you ever been there?’
Hannah shook her head. ‘No, no, I haven’t.’
‘It’s a handsome place, Hannah. You’ll like it.’
‘Oh, I’m sure I will. I mean, I’m sure I would, if—’
‘I’ll send you home by taxi, when the evening ends.’
‘Mr MacLean, there’s really no point in——’
‘If it’s the idea of pretending we’re intimate that bothers you——’
‘It isn’t that.’ Their eyes met, and colour flooded her cheeks. ‘Well, it is, but that’s only part of——’
