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Now she wondered a little uneasily if she had been too sanguine. There had been a very definite sexual warning in the way Ryan had just looked at her, the way he had spoken to her, and the way she herself for a moment had felt that small dangerous awareness of coming close to being flattered by his interest in her. Ryan was a very experienced seducer, she reminded herself, who well knew a woman’s vulnerabilities and how to play on them.
He was also her boss and a married man, and, even if all her love and her loyalty had not been given to Mark, that combination was surely so notoriously explosive that no woman who valued either her emotional or financial security would ever risk getting involved.
Ninety per cent of her appeal to Ryan was the fact that she was unavailable, and almost all of the remaining ten per cent was probably caused by the fact that he enjoyed putting one over on another man… in this case Mark, she told herself wryly. The fact that Mark had not discussed his work problems with her was a personal issue to be discussed between the two of them, and she was no gullible girl, to fall into the tempting trap Ryan was setting for her.
‘It’s kind of you to offer me a fatherly shoulder to cry on, Ryan,’ she said firmly now. ‘But I know you didn’t bring me here to discuss my personal affairs.’ She gave him a wide, disingenuous smile, concealing her amusement as she watched his brief tell-tale reaction to her description of him as fatherly.
‘I appreciate the help and advice you’ve given me professionally. I really have to leave now, though…’
‘Running away…?’ Ryan taunted her softly, quickly rallying.
Deborah ignored him. ‘I’ve got some reading up I want to do.’
He didn’t make any further attempt to persuade her to stay but, as they left the wine bar, he turned to her and told her, ‘Sooner or later you’re going to have to make a decision—you know that, don’t you? He can’t keep pace with you, Deborah, and you’re either going to have to accept that or risk losing everything you’ve worked for. You’re not doing either yourself or him any favours by letting him cling to you. A real man wouldn’t do it. He’d want to sink or swim by his own endeavours…’
‘Mark is a real man,’ Deborah told him, suddenly very, very angry with him, ‘and he’s all the man that I need and want…’
‘Then you’re a fool,’ Ryan told her brutally.
* * *
Her temper was still up when she let herself into the flat.
Mark was lying on the sofa, an empty glass on the floor beside him next to the foil dishes which had obviously contained a takeaway meal. The smell of it hung in the air. The sight of it, the message of solitude and defeat both it and he were screaming quietly and accusingly at her, darkened her anger to guilt.
Mark had neither spoken to her nor looked at her; he was leaning back in his chair, eyes closed as he focused on the music being fed to him through the earphones he was wearing. Was he sulking? Or punishing her?
She frowned, pushing the thought away, forcing herself to smile and sound cheerful as she stood in front of him and touched his arm. He opened his eyes but did not remove the earphones.
‘Chinese… mmm… I’m starving too…’
‘Didn’t he offer to feed you? Perhaps he thought he wouldn’t be able to push it through on his expenses…’
‘I did say we were only going for a quick drink,’ Deborah pointed out mildly as she bent down to pick up the detritus of his meal.
When she walked back into the sitting-room he was still lying on the sofa. She walked over to him, removing the earphones despite his protest, and demanded quietly, ‘Mark, why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Tell you what?’ he demanded truculently.
‘About your…’ she hesitated over using the word demotion and substituted instead ‘your… job…’
‘My job…’ His mouth twisted bitterly as he sat up. ‘What job?’ he asked her. ‘I don’t have a job any more… just a share in someone else’s… My God, when I think of what I gave up to come here… If I’d stayed on in London…’ He got up, pacing the floor. ‘No need to ask who told you, and I bet he enjoyed it as well. Smug bastard——’
‘You could always have told me yourself,’ Deborah interrupted him pointedly. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she asked him, her emotions getting the better of her as she pushed her hair back off of her face and sat down opposite him.
‘When?’ he asked her harshly. ‘You’ve been far too busy to listen to anything I might have wanted to say recently.’
Deborah stared at him in disbelief as she heard the petulance in his voice, saw it in his face. She couldn’t believe he was behaving so childishly. He had always seemed so mature, so secure.
‘After all, why the hell should you listen to me?’ he added bitterly. ‘You’ve got far more important things to think about. My God, it’s ironic, isn’t it? When we first came here I was the one with the glowing future… the promised promotion…
‘Do you know what Peter told me today? He said it wasn’t good enough just to be an accountant; I had to be a salesman as well. A salesman… I can guess where that came
from… your boss knows all about selling, doesn’t he? After all, he sold himself when he married into the partnership. Well, if that’s what it takes to succeed, I’d rather be a loser and——’
‘Mark, you aren’t a loser!’ Deborah protested, interrupting him. ‘It’s the recession that’s responsible for the loss of business, not…’
‘Not me personally. Thanks, yes, I do know that… Pity I didn’t follow your example, isn’t it? Then I might be able to brag about my promotion and my new company car.’
