Conditional Surrender Read online

  Conditional Surrender - Wendy Prentice

  She couldn't just ignore him!

  Kate had always known that her dynamic boss, Gregory Courtney, possessed more than his fair share of arrogance. Only recently had she realised he was also charming, attractive...and dangerous. "Just what would it take to get you into my bed, Kate?" he asked. A self-confessed cynic, he believed in passion but not in love, while nothing less than love would induce Kate to give up her independence.Yet there was an attraction between them, a flame which soon blazed out of control....

  "This must be some kind of bad dream." Kate shook her head slowly in disbelief. "It's real enough, Kate," he said. "Just resign yourself to it." "What kind of man are you, Greg?" "The kind who gets his own way!" His voice was as clipped and cold as the steely eyes regarding her."And now there's nothing to stop you, is there? "He hesitated, breathing deeply. "One thing. There is one thing which would stop me, Kate." He spoke slowly, as he moved closer to cup her face in his hands. "Look at me, Kate! Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me! Then I'll let you go. Tell me, Kate." It should have been easy. Kate felt the lie rise to her lips, but as she opened her mouth, the falsehood stuck in her throat....

  Printed in U.S.A.

  Harlequin Presents first edition February 1991

  ISBN 0-373-11342-0

  Original hardcover edition published in 1989 by Mills & Boon Limited

  CONDITIONAL SURRENDER

  Copyright © 1989 by Wendy Prentice. All rights reserved.

  Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 31(9.

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention are Trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.

  CHAPTER ONE

  `IF YOU don't take your hands off me this instant, Toby Marchant, I will make damn sure you don't feel the urge to go near another female for months to come!'

  Toby Marchant jumped back in some surprise. He was a subscriber to the myth that a redhead's temper was surpassed only by her passion, but his smooth good looks and superficially charming manner had insulated him from the reality that temper was the only form of passion he would ever receive from Kate McNaught! He was certainly not ready to come to terms with the fact that he was being turned down for the very first time in his life.

  `My apologies, Miss McNaught!' he sneered sulkily. 'I should have remembered you have other—more important—fish to fry!'

  Almond-shaped green eyes narrowed with a dangerously calm glint Toby Marchant was too insensitive to recognise.

  `I think you had better explain that remark.' It had been a long, long time since Kate had lost her temper quite so thoroughly. Anyone who knew her well would have run a mile from her deceptively calm features and soft, dulcet voice.

  `Come off it, Katy!' The unfamiliar diminutive grated intolerably on her already taut nerves. 'You may have the rest of the office block believing you're a frigid little prude, but you and I know better, don't we?' A nasty leer distorted his too handsome face.

  `Do we, indeed?' Kate's green eyes began to glow like a cat's as it was about to pounce, but his conceit made him miss the all too clear warning signals.

  `No skin off my nose if Courtney wants exclusive rights,' he continued with blatant disregard for his health. 'I'll still be around when his interest fades. Funny, though, I wouldn't have said you were his type at all . .

  Crack! Toby Marchant's head very nearly parted company with his neck with the force of Kate's blow.

  `And if you don't want a black eye to add to your bruised jaw and over-inflated ego, I suggest you get out of my office right now, and take your filthy mind with you!'

  `You little bitch!' He caught her wrists in a painful grip. 'No one punches me on the jaw and gets away with it!'

  `Then you would be well advised to act on my secretary's suggestion!'

  They turned as one as the cold, harsh tones reached them from the doorway. Kate would have screamed in frustration had she not been so mortified. How many more things could possibly go wrong in one day?

  `Mr Courtney!' Toby Marchant was the first to recover and he hurriedly stammered his excuses. 'A personal argument, I'm afraid, sir.' His feeble smile faltered as he met the derisive gaze of his employer. 'It got a bit out of hand.'

  `So I saw.' Gregory Courtney's long figure left its lounging position in the doorway and he moved towards them. 'I believe you owe my secretary an apology, Marchant.'

  `I—I . . .' Toby Marchant's mouth was opening and closing like that of a fish. 'I'm sorry, Kate.' He turned and smiled with complete insincerity. But you did provoke me, you know,' he added with malice.

  Kate was literally speechless with rage. Her green eyes sparkled dangerously, but before she could formulate her attack, Gregory Courtney, that most improbable of white knights, intervened again.

  `I should warn you, Marchant, I heard a great deal more than you obviously believe I did,' he drawled with a witheringly contemptuous glance from his steely grey eyes. 'I will not tolerate my staff being subjected to sexual harassment.' Toby Marchant flushed uncomfortably, turned on his heel and made to leave the office, but he was halted by Gregory Courtney's further warning. 'And Marchant—if I hear any more rumours circulating about Miss McNaught and myself, I will know from whom they originated. Do I make myself clear?' One look at those hard grey eyes and Toby Marchant got the message. He nodded jerkily, and fled.

  Kate heaved a sigh of relief that the distasteful scene was over. Loss of temper left her so drained of energy, and heaven only knew, she needed every ounce of energy she could muster to simply get through the day. And what a day it had been so far! A row with her father, a row with Toby Marchant, and now—with Gregory Courtney?

  `No apology from you, Miss McNaught?' His low mocking tone and slightly amused glance caught the remains of her ambivalent mood. She drew herself up to her full sixty-six inches to look haughtily down her daintily freckled nose.

  `I have nothing to apologise for, Mr Courtney,' she murmured primly, not quite meeting his eyes.

  `Losing your temper in my time?' he suggested mildly, an amused quirk to his eyebrow. Those eyebrows, Kate had discovered long ago, were the best guide to his mood. The lower and straighter they were, the less approachable he became. One up, one down meant crossing your fingers for an extra edge. Kate crossed her fingers behind her back.

  `I was born with my temper, Mr Courtney. There's very little I can do about it once it starts to blow.' She pulled a face, figuring she had burnt her bridges long ago. 'I've tried everything, believe me!'

  She was subjected to a long, thoughtful stare from beneath his preposterously long lashes, the only hint of softness his hard face possessed. Kate shifted uncomfortably. He had the ability to make one feel like an object under a microscope. And she knew only too well what he would see.

  Her oval face was framed by a mass of shoulder-length wavy red hair. She would have liked to be able to call the shade auburn, but in all honesty she had to settle for carrot. Fortunately, its thickness allowed her to bring some measure of control to bear, but in all the furore before she left home this morning she had only had time to tie it in a ponytail with a piece
of black velvet ribbon. Knowing this had the—to her—unfortunate effect of taking about seven years off her twenty-three did little to boost her sagging confidence. Her eyes, her best feature, some said, were clear green. When she was tired, as now, they gave a translucent effect. They were tilted slightly at the corners, giving her a faint air of mysticism.

  Although, to be fair, she was unaware of this, just as she had no idea how her generous mouth appeared softly sensuous to even the least discerning of men.

  Kate was, though, justly proud of her figure. Not that she watched her diet too carefully—her mother was too good a cook for that! But the severely cut dark green two-piece suit she was wearing did little to hide her slender curves from Gregory Courtney's too knowledgeable eyes.

  As she had feared, a deep flush, the curse of her life, spread up over her high cheekbones as she was pinned to the spot. Gregory Courtney had done this before, and mostly Kate had countered with an equally assessing roaming gaze of her own. But her self-possession, already so greatly diminished as to be irretrievable, was scattered to the four winds as he mentally stripped every item of clothing off her.

  It wouldn't be so bad, she thought fatalistically, if I could only be sure he liked what he saw!

  Suddenly their glances collided and locked. Kate's lashes quickly fanned down to hide the confusion she felt at what she had seen in his fixed regard. Just as suddenly, he appeared to tire of the game. Glancing at his watch, he stood and turned towards his office, his voice uninterested as he drawled, 'I would like you to lunch with me today, Miss McNaught. Be ready in fifteen minutes.'

  Kate quickly cleared her desk and ran to the cloakroom to effect running repairs to her make-up. Lunching with her boss was no novelty. He would take her out at least once a week, mainly, she had decided long ago, to pick her brains about the various personalities they had to deal with. He did, she knew, appreciate her sharp perceptive abilities, and had even been known to take her advice on occasions, especially where union matters were concerned.

  Kate had worked for Gregory Courtney for two years now, and in that time had learnt to respect his immense drive and business acumen. On the frequent occasions when they had worked long into the night to complete negotiations, never once had he showed signs of tiring, his mind as sharp as at the start of the day, when everyone else, Kate included, would be

  near to exhaustion. He had a great dislike of compromise, which could have made dealing with the several unions involved in his business rather fraught, were it not for his willingness to pay the highest rates for the standard of work he demanded. As yet, there had been no serious confrontations. Conditions of work were of the highest possible standard.

  At only thirty-four, Gregory Courtney had the reputation of something akin to a Midas figure. It was only those working closest with him who realised just how hard he had worked for his present position in life. He had started with nothing, educating himself as best he could while working all hours. As soon as he had raised the capital, he bought his way into a small electronics business, eventually taking over as the owner lost interest. Gradually the business began to expand under his leadership, growing to its present multi-national status.

  Kate had been aghast when she had first learned that she was to be his secretary. She had been quite comfortably ensconced in the Midlands Regional Office, when it had been decided to relocate the company's headquarters from London to the Midlands due to more favourable rating subsidies. Kate had been deputising for the secretary of the regional supervisor, and had thus been seconded when Gregory Courtney first arrived. Much to the chagrin of her former boss and Gregory Courtney's former secretary, he had decided to keep her. Somewhat to her surprise, she found she actually thrived on the challenge. He had been very patient with her in those first few weeks until she had found her feet. Her willingness to work hard and long hours without watching the clock had not gone unappreciated in her salary, and, over the months, he had trusted her with ever-growing responsibilities, until she was now more of a personal assistant than a secretary.

  He was a very exacting employer, sometimes giving the impression of expecting too much from his workforce, particularly management. Any slacking or sloppiness was jumped on immediately. But one glance at the firm's balance sheet was enough to justify his high standards. And, Kate was fair-minded enough to admit, a word of praise was also forthcoming when deserved, always taking the recipient so much by surprise that their efforts were once more increased

  in the hopes of further recognition.

  Kate herself was more than grateful for the opportunity to stretch her talents far beyond any self-imposed limits. Were it not for Gregory Courtney, there would have been no way she could even have aspired to her present position and high salary. Indeed, she had had no idea that such ambition was lying dormant in her until he brought it to life. Her work was far more satisfying to her now she knew herself to be a highly valued member of his team. She was no longer surprised, though, that Gregory Courtney had been the first to perceive her abilities enough to pluck her from the depths of the typing pool. He had never been slow to recognise management potential, regardless of age or sex, and he had surrounded himself with a team whose talents and personalities combined with his own to form one of the most forward-looking industries in the country.

  No one, though, was ever in doubt about who was the boss. Not that he flaunted his authority. He was always willing to listen, encouraging advice even from the shop floor on occasion. But, being an essentially private man, he tended to hold himself aloof from people on a more personal level. Kate, for instance, was probably as close to him as any other person in the company, but he had yet to call her by her Christian name. In fact, were it not for those assessing surveys he occasionally subjected her to, she would have assumed he would have been quite content to swap her for a computer!

  The first time he had dissected her with those cold grey eyes had considerably alarmed her, filling her young mind with visions of being chased around the office by a sex maniac! Now she could only laugh at her immature fears. Gregory Courtney had never so much as laid a finger on her! And that was just as she liked it. He was way out of her league in every respect. No—those dissecting surveys were more in the nature of unspoken punishment for real or imagined transgressions. It certainly had the effect of making her toe the line, although she had never seen him do it to other female employees.

  And, Kate's incurably honest nature had to allow, it did make her feel rather good to be seen in his company. He had a presence which compulsively drew eyes towards him,

  especially those of the feminine persuasion. Kate had lost count of the many metaphorical daggers she had felt in her back from envious female eyes. Gregory Courtney ignored them altogether, if he even noticed them. His life away from the office was a closed book to her. She had never been requested to dispatch flowers and suchlike as other secretaries were. And he very seldom received private phone calls. That there were women, Kate had never doubted—his was too dynamic and compelling a personality for there not to be a woman in the picture somewhere. Although that was pure conjecture on Kate's part, as they were certainly never allowed to interfere in his business life.

  She glanced at her watch and smothered a shriek, impatient with herself for standing wasting time on idle thoughts. When Gregory Courtney said fifteen minutes that was exactly what he meant!

  She felt a momentary thrill at the sight of her employer leaning over her desk. It was something that had happened at odd times before and she had never quite identified it. It was something she tucked into the back of her mind until the next time it happened.

  He looked up now as he heard her approach. He was of a tall, powerful build, radiating the impression of leashed athletic strength. He had dark, almost black hair, cut short, a lock of which was wont to fall forward across his lean forehead, giving rise to his habitual gesture of raking his fingers through it. His eyes were steel-grey, razor-sharp under their hooded lids, and adding considera
bly to his normal expression of cool indifference. Deep grooves splayed out from either side of his nose to his mouth, a mouth which rarely quirked with amusement, unless it was slightly mocking. Not good-looking in the conventional sense, but extremely attractive none the less. Kate had often thought he would make an excellent poker player.

  She flushed suddenly at the sight of his raised brows, realising that she had been caught staring.

  `Sorry,' she muttered with attempted lightness. 'I seem to be miles away today.'

  `Wishful thinking?' he drawled, gesturing towards the windows where the sun was shining brightly from a clear blue sky, a foretaste of the summer to come.

  `Perhaps.' Her lips moved in the motion of a smile. 'Shall we go?'

  `In a hurry, Miss McNaught?' he asked, a small amount of surprise in his deep voice. Kate was in the habit of following rather than issuing instructions.

  `I'm hungry.' She laughed suddenly, giving him a view of her perfect white teeth. 'I missed my breakfast this morning.'

  `Indeed?' His eyes narrowed as if he found her statement of interest, but then he shrugged and led her out of the office, a courteous hand at her elbow.

  Their usual restaurant was fortunately situated only a few hundred yards from the office block. A hovering waiter showed them to a booth immediately. Kate found the booths rather intimidating, leaving her in such close proximity to her companion, but as their conversations over lunch invariably concerned confidential business matters she found the choice understandable.

  Gregory Courtney leaned back against the soft cushion of the buttress after they had ordered and surveyed her with hooded interest as her agitated fingers roamed the rim of her glass. She was still, in spite of her outward composure, suffering the after-effects of her scene with Toby Marchant.

  `What do you think of Tom Nichols?' he asked suddenly, jolting Kate out of her introspection, for which she was grateful, although she would have preferred a different subject . . . discussing Tom Nichols would inevitably lead to thoughts of her father. However, she considered the question with her usual thoughtfulness. There was no surprise at having her opinion sought. Gregory Courtney was aware that she had known Tom Nichols a long time. He had just become one of the newest recruits to the local union executive.