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Sephy had derived a moment’s comfort from the fact that the woman was not Caroline de Menthe—only because she didn’t think Caroline was right for him, she had assured herself immediately—but the more she had examined the blonde’s face and figure the quicker the brief consolation had faded. The girl was gorgeous, truly gorgeous, and was obviously the latest string to Conrad’s well-used and energetic bow.
She had just packed the last of her personal items in the small cardboard box she had brought into the office on Thursday evening when Conrad strode into the office.
He had been out all day, and as Sephy glanced up when the door opened she felt the momentary thrill that always attacked her when she wasn’t fully prepared to see him. He walked across the room with a nod of acknowledgement to her quick hallo, his broad, powerful body radiating leashed strength and purpose.
She stood waiting for some command or other—he had that look about him which suggested something was afoot—but as he stopped just in front of her their glances held, and she couldn’t read a thing in the steady blue gaze. It had obviously been raining outside, diamond drops of water glittered in the short black hair and his overcoat looked damp, and she found herself saying, ‘I thought James had driven you in the Mercedes?’ James was Conrad’s chauffeur, who also was in charge of the company car park in the basement of the building.
Conrad shrugged, his fixed regard unwavering. ‘He did. I got him to drop me off a couple of blocks away; I had something to collect.’
‘Oh.’ She lowered her lids, her thick lashes masking the confusion she was feeling. She was right, something was afoot, but for the life of her she couldn’t work out what it was. But he was tense, even covertly excited. She sensed it.
‘Sephy?’ His voice was very soft and deep, and now, as she raised her eyes again, his compelling gaze held hers in a vice-like grip clothed with velvet. ‘This is for you.’
She glanced at the jeweller’s box in his hands—the name on the satin lid causing her eyes to open wide for a moment. It was well-known, and the sort of establishment which encouraged clients who never had to ask the price of an item into its hushed confines.
‘Me?’ It was a squeak and she made no effort to take the package. He hadn’t really bought her something, had he?
‘To say thank you for being everything I could have asked for over the last months while Madge was away,’ he said, with a warm charm that made him a different man from the reserved, cold being of the last months. Dangerously different.
She stared at him, totally out of her depth, and then, as the dark face began to frown, hastily stretched out her hand with a quick, ‘Thank you—thank you very much. But you really shouldn’t have bought me anything. I’ve only been doing my job after all, and you’ve paid me handsomely as it is. It wasn’t necessary to— Oh!’ The last was a soft gasp of disbelief as she raised the lid of the box and saw the superb gold choker and matching earrings it held. The choker was made up of delicate gold stars with tiny amber stones set in exquisite detail, their beauty riveting, and the earrings were elegant and dainty in their own right. They would have cost a small fortune.
‘To match your eyes,’ he said softly, his tone bringing her head jerking up to meet his watchful gaze.
‘I… I can’t… I mean…’ Her mouth had suddenly gone dry and her tongue was cleaving to the roof of her mouth. ‘This is too expensive; I can’t possibly accept it. You must see that?’ What on earth had possessed him to do this?
‘I see nothing of the sort,’ he answered promptly. ‘Do you like it?’
r /> ‘Of course I like it. How could anyone not like it?’ she said shakily. ‘But that’s not the point.’
‘I had it specially made for you, that’s the point.’ He was eyeing her with something akin to amusement now, and his voice was still warm and possessed of something that made her skin tingle. She was seeing the man those other women saw—the beautiful women he loved and petted and cosseted—and he was sheer dynamite. And definitely incredibly dangerous. ‘If you don’t accept it I shan’t give it to anyone else.’
‘You could take it back to the shop,’ she suggested tremblingly. He’d have to, because she wasn’t accepting it.
‘I could, but I wouldn’t.’ There was a trace of impatience colouring the smooth tones now.
‘I can’t accept this, I’m sorry.’ Her voice was firmer now, and there was no doubt she meant what she said. ‘It’s very kind of you, and I do appreciate the thought, but it is far too expensive. It…it just wouldn’t be right.’
It was his turn to stare at her in disbelief. He didn’t say anything for a moment, merely stepping backwards a step or two until he was leaning against the interconnecting wall of the office with his arms folded over his chest and his narrowed eyes fixed on her hot face. His words confirmed his incredulous expression when he murmured, half to himself, ‘You are one on your own, Seraphina Vincent, do you know that? I have never had a woman turn down such a gift before.’
And of course he would have given many women presents. It shouldn’t have hurt but it did, and it panicked her, the smudge of freckles across her nose standing out in protest as hot colour came and went in her face. ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated stiffly.
He cut off her voice as he said, ‘And why wouldn’t it be right anyway? What does the price of a gift matter? It should be the motive behind it which counts.’
Exactly, and suddenly—though it might be terribly presumptuous on her part—she wasn’t at all sure of his motives! But she couldn’t say that—she was going to look the biggest fool on earth if she was wrong, and she had to be wrong. She had to. Conrad had beautiful women throwing themselves at him all the time; he wasn’t going to bother with her.
‘You’re my boss,’ she said with unintentional primness, her soft mouth trying to be stern and assertive as she called on all her wilting self-confidence.
‘Not any more,’ he said, with a satisfaction that started her heart thumping again. ‘Why did you think I waited until today to show my appreciation?’
Help! ‘You’re the boss of the company anyway,’ she said quickly, ‘whether I work in this office or downstairs for Mr Harper.’
‘True, but Customer Services is far removed enough for it not to be a problem.’
It. He wasn’t talking just about the necklace and earrings. There was suddenly no doubt in Sephy’s mind. He was propositioning her.
‘You’re like a drug, Sephy, one of the insidious kind that is supposed to be non-addictive,’ he said softly, moving off the wall and coming to stand in front of her again, but this time at the side of her so that the desk wasn’t between them. He made no attempt to touch her as he continued, ‘Gentle and harmless and ordinary enough on the outside, but then, when it hits the bloodstream…’
Her utter amazement must have shown in her face, but she really couldn’t believe this was the cold, controlled, autocratic figure who had been so distant over the last months. She had thought she had come to know him, just a little, but she didn’t know a thing about him, she realised now. And that was scary.
