Conditional Surrender Page 7

  by nature a warm, giving person, she found his remoteness vaguely off-putting. Even worse was his unwillingness to compromise. Had she thought there was a chance for love to grow between them, she might very well have decided to take the plunge, or at least requested the time for a relationship to develop naturally, before committing herself physically. But she knew there would never be any more between them than Greg had already promised. A man of his word, was Greg. And he had had the benefit of two years to contemplate the sort of relationship he wanted, not a paltry few days.

  She did wish she knew what had happened in his past to turn him into such a remote figure. She was so very ignorant of his family background. The little she had gleaned in the past week made her wonder about his childhood. When he had told her that story about the man who reminded him of Callum, she had felt sure he was talking about his own father—a subject which was obviously distressing for him to discuss.

  A miserable childhood would certainly account for his cynicism towards marriage. Or was it perhaps rooted in his later relationships with women? Did every woman he contemplated taking to his bed receive the warning? Kate thought not.

  She had the uneasy impression she was a total departure from his usual choice of women, but that was based solely on conjecture. The office grapevine was notorious as a rumour mill, but there had never been so much as a whisper of gossip concerning Greg's affairs There had, of course, been the usual speculation about how long it would take Kate to fall for her boss, her own dislike of inter-office relationships, and her weekly lunches with Greg, having fuelled the flames of conjecture for a while. But those titbits of gossip had soon died down for simple lack of credible evidence. Until recently, Greg's manner towards her had never failed to be most correct.

  She was very tempted to search out Sam Goodis to answer some of those niggling questions about Greg's background; despite the disparity in their ages, the two were very easy in each other's company. But Kate could not overcome her own respect for Greg's privacy. It would be one thing for him to

  offer the information himself, but quite another for her to go seeking it. Besides, she liked Sam and would be very loath to put him in such an untenable position.

  No, there were simply too many cons and too few pros to provide balance. Every instinct of self-preservation screamed for her to keep a safe distance between them.

  Their working relationship would be bound to suffer; Kate could not compartmentalise her life in the same way she suspected Greg did. And she certainly could not afford to leave her job.

  Her self-respect would not allow her to be a 'kept woman', as Greg had offered. The only men she would ever allow to pay her bills were her father, and whoever one day became her husband. Even then she would hope for some kind of financial independence.

  So even the basic logistics of an affair were against them. Kate would not be in a position to leave home at least until Callum and Terry's business got off the ground. And as for explaining to her mother where she was spending her nights—! Besides, she did not want to leave home. She enjoyed the give and take of family life, the companionship, the support of people she loved—and who loved her—temper, warts and all!

  Greg would turn her life upside down and inside out. And for what? Excitement? A sexual education? They surely could not outweigh the arguments against. Could they?

  Having made up her mind, it was unsettling to say the least to have to wait three or four days before talking to Greg again. She had difficulty concentrating on the simplest of tasks because her mind kept insisting on re-enacting the stomach-churning exhilaration of their last evening together.

  It did not help matters that Greg was the main topic of conversation in the McNaught household over the next few days. Kate had to literally bite her tongue to smother the desire to blurt out that Greg was no saint, that he had probably only offered to help as a softening-up gesture designed to lead her to his bed. But she knew that had no basis in fact. Greg could very easily have used her gratitude against her, could have made her feel extremely guilty about turning him down after

  all he had done for her family. But there had been no hint of such coercion. On the contrary, he had made a point of dismissing her thanks out of hand.

  She could have put that down to sensitivity, but with her instinctive knowledge of his business practices she suspected that it merely occupied a separate compartment in his mind. The loan to Callum was filed under business. Kate's file-heading was a different matter altogether! Anyway, she could not bring herself to do anything to burst Callum's bubble of pride. How could she ever justify deflating his self-esteem, and with it, her mother's happiness?

  And so, all in all, it was with a feeling of relief, tempered with just a hint of trepidation, that she reached the office the following Thursday morning to find Greg already ensconced in conference with Sam Goodis.

  There was no opportunity for a private conversation that Morning. Greg's return brought with it the usual flurry of work—all of it urgent, of course. For one brief moment, Kate wondered if she had been hallucinating, and that the events of Saturday evening were a mere figment of her imagination, so normal did everything seem. Then, halfway through the morning, after Greg had ushered out the regional sales supervisors, he looked at her properly for the first time that day. It was a brief look, but all-encompassing, taking in the violet shadows under her eyes caused by nights of tossing and turning instead of sleeping. The dove grey suit she wore, while smart in the extreme, had the unfortunate effect of draining her face of much-needed colour.

  He, of course, looked as imperturbable as ever, she thought waspishly, resenting his ability to act as if nothing had happened between them. Even his brows gave nothing away today.

  `Send your father and Walsh in as soon as they arrive, would you? I have some calls to make in the meantime.' Kate had forgotten that this was the big day. Terry and Callum were coming to sign the contracts drawn up while Greg was away.

  `Yes, of course,' she answered automatically. 'Greg ..

  `Not now, Kate,' he glanced at his watch impatiently. 'We'll talk at lunch. Have something sent up from the canteen.'

  `Yes sir!' Kate muttered under her breath, and added a mock salute to his back for good measure. She wondered ironically if she had not been hasty in thinking their working relationship would be in danger of changing had her answer been different. What had she expected? Kisses behind the filing cabinet? Hardly! She must have been mad to even consider it!

  She was halfway through explaining a complex report on interdepartmental staff changes to her assistant, Susan, when Terry's cheery voice made her jump. She looked him up and down appreciatively.

  `Well, well. Terence Walsh in a suit! I never thought I'd see the day!' She grinned at his spectacularly smart appearance, as he obliged her by giving a little twirl. Callum was self-consciously fingering the knot on his tie and Kate automatically moved forward to straighten it for him.

  `So—today's the day, eh, lass?'

  `Yes indeed, Dad!' she smiled at him. In more ways than one, she added to herself.

  `I didn't realise you were so important, princess. This office is a bit of all right, isn't it?' Terry looked around him with interest, especially towards Susan Henshaw, who was doing her best to shrink into invisibility.

  `She's engaged!' Kate muttered to Terry, whose eyes had brightened with a light she read all too easily.

  `Ah, well,' he perched nonchalantly on the edge of Kate's desk. 'I don't suppose you fancy giving up all this luxury to come and work in our tin shack, do you?' he asked guilelessly, his voice something less than discreet. Kate noticed the knob on Greg's office door begin to turn. 'The pay would be pretty lousy,' he continued seriously, then his eyebrows waggled in Groucho Marx fashion, 'but think of the fringe benefits, sweetheart!'

  `You wouldn't be trying to steal my assistant by any chance, would you, Walsh?'

  Terry fell immediately silent at the interruption. Kate intercepted a very strange speculativ
e look passing between her friend and her would-be lover. Terry, for once utterly serious, tilted his head to one side, casting a quick glance in Kate's

  direction.

  `No—Greg.' He turned back. 'Kate always likes to make her own decisions.'

  Greg's eyes narrowed, the brows lowering ominously. 'I'll bear that in mind. Callum—it's good to see you again! Come in, the contracts are ready.'

  Kate did not realise she was holding her breath until the upward slanting of Greg's eyebrows gave her permission to exhale.

  `And just what was that all about?' She pulled Terry back as he made to follow the others into the inner sanctum.

  `Men's talk,' he replied airily. 'Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, princess!' And he ducked to ward off the playful punch which inevitably followed such patronage. Kate ground her teeth.

  And why do I have the feeling that I've just missed something very significant? she thought. Would she ever understand men? Sometimes she felt the male of the species might as well have just descended from outer space for all the sense they made!

  `Kate? We need your signature too!' Greg called her attention back to business.

  `Coming!'

  Kate had never felt less like eating in her life. Normally nothing affected her healthy appetite, but, just lately, the food seemed to stick in her throat.

  Callum had left the office a very happy man about half an hour earlier. Kate wished she could have felt more enthusiastic about the celebration her mother was planning for that evening. Unaccountably, she had not realised that Greg would be receiving an invitation—it could prove rather awkward after this particular interview. At least in the office they could both don their professional masks, but Kate did not have the experience to carry out the social niceties with aplomb. She would have to take her cue from Greg.

  She rearranged the sandwiches on her plate yet again, before

  admitting defeat and replacing her plate on the canteen tray.

  `Well, Kate,' drawled Greg after polishing off his share of

  the sandwiches, 'I can see the word "no" stamped clearly on your forehead. Like to fill me in on the reasons?' He sounded bored, as if her objections were merely academic. Kate felt her temperature rise immediately.

  `Damn you, Greg!' she retorted angrily He had no right to be so composed when she felt as if she were falling apart. 'Will you stop reading my mind?'

  `Am I wrong?' he asked with a cynical sneer she longed to wipe off his face.

  `No, you're not wrong,' she breathed finally, taking a sip of coffee to fortify herself. `I'm afraid I'm simply not sophisticated enough for the sort of arrangement you have in mind. Greg, I . . .' She balked at the next words for a moment, but still faced him bravely, her chin lifted proudly. 'I can't deny that I find you attractive, but . . .' She bristled as he snorted derisively, and slammed his cup back on its saucer without a thought for the fragility of the china. `OK—I want you! Now are you satisfied?'

  `Hardly!' His eyes narrowed with hated amusement.

  `It's not enough, Greg. Not for me.' Her tight voice finally got through to him. But aside from a thinning of his lips at her obvious misery, his expression remained impassive.

  `Why?'

  `You know why, Greg. You must have known before you asked me, or you wouldn't have felt the need to warn me about becoming—emotionally involved. I—I admit I was tempted—' She had to stop, her voice was threatening to crack. Greg's proximity was getting to her. She had sat so many times with him like this and totally blocked out the fact that he was an eminently attractive man. Why couldn't she do it now? Deliberately she turned her mind to all the things he was not offering her. All those things which made a relationship worthwhile pursuing even if, ultimately, they failed—love, caring, friendship, putting one's partner's happiness before one's own. He wasn't even offering partnership, for heaven's sake!

  There was a strong rebellious streak in Kate McNaught which had never fully been tested. But it came to the fore now, straightening her backbone both physically and mentally.

  `I've done a lot of soul-searching over the past few days, Greg. No doubt you think it rather silly in this day and age to have reservations about sharing my body. But you see, that's what it would be for me. Sharing—total sharing. And I'm not talking about worldly goods here,' she added with a touch of belligerence as he was about to interrupt.

  `I realise that, Kate,' he said quietly, surprising her with his sincerity.

  Her eyes dropped for a moment, her indignation seeping away. 'Good. I can't give my body lightly, Greg, however much I'm tempted.' A slight flush pinkened her cheekbones as she spoke. She was not in the habit of speaking so frankly about such intimate matters. 'I find I need some sort of commitment—not marriage, necessarily, but at the very least, some degree of—caring. You've been honest with me about your feelings, and I do appreciate that, Greg,' she told him earnestly, holding his eyes, though they told her nothing of his feelings. 'But I can't . .

  `I get the point!'

  He rose and walked over to the window. It was a favourite position of his, as if he drew strength from being able to survey part of the empire he had carved for himself.

  Kate had deliberately kept her eyes fixed to his throughout her halting explanation, the better to read his reaction, but it was only now, as she was able to watch him unobserved, that she could see he was not as unaffected by her rejection of his proposition as she had previously thought.

  His fists were jammed into the trouser pockets of his dark grey suit, his jaw was set tight, a muscle working along the edge.

  `As a matter of fact, I had second thoughts myself, while I was away,' he told her.

  `You did?' It was a little dog-in-the-mangerish to feel disappointment at his words, but Kate could not prevent a note of pique from colouring her voice. Greg turned to face her, leaning back against the wall, and watched her closely.

  `It occurred to me that it might be a little difficult to conduct the sort of affair I had in mind while you're still living with your parents . .

  `Well, yes. I mean . . . I thought of that too,' she finished lamely, her eyes dropping before the lazy mockery she could see in his face.

  `It also occurred to me that Callum would be rather upset if he were to learn that he was, in effect, taking money from his daughter's lover.'

  Kate took a much-needed gulp of coffee to moisten her dry mouth. She hadn't thought of that. And of course Greg was right. But did he have to be so—blunt?

  `I think,' she said carefully, 'I think he'd rather spend the rest of his life on the dole.'

  And their glances met for one long timeless second before Kate dragged her way out of his hypnotic gaze.

  `You do see it's impossible, don't you, Greg?'

  `That scenario, yes.'

  `I don't and . .

  A slow sensual smile crept over his features as he watched her battle with confusion, but his voice was as dispassionate as ever as he concluded, `So I've decided the best solution is for us to marry.'

  He watched with great interest the variety of emotions which chased across her face in quick succession, reading each and every one with ridiculous ease. Stunned amazement, a slight dawning of something he preferred not to interpret, and then—unexpectedly, the total blankness he had last seen the second before she had punched Toby Marchant on the jaw!

  `Marriage!' The initial shock which almost sent Kate tumbling off her chair was swiftly replaced by an ominously calm feeling of—nothing. Very carefully, as if her life depended on it, she placed her cup and saucer in the centre of the canteen tray.

  `Tell me, Greg, does this—amazingly generous offer include happy-ever-after in that country cottage with those inevitable two point five children?' she asked sweetly, for once not giving a hoot that his brows were entering the red alert area. 'Or do the same rules still apply?'

  `Yes, they still apply,' he answered in an even tone.

  `I see!' she hissed. `So this—marriage, for want of a
better word, would exist only on paper and in bed. Is that the idea?'

  His lids dropped, lazily veiling his expression, but Kate could sense the anger begin to surround him as if it were actually palpable. She was way past caring about the consequences. She was as icily furious as she had ever been in her life.

  `I do believe you're losing your temper, Miss McNaught!' he mocked.

  `I do believe you're right, Mr Courtney,' she answered in the same ironical tone, unconsciously mimicking his eyebrow movements at the same time. 'Did you really expect me to fall at your feet in undying gratitude for such a magnanimous proposal?'

  He laughed, moving her temperature into the white-hot bracket.

  `I've already learnt that nothing about you will ever be that easy, Kate.' His hand rubbed his chin as he watched her thoughtfully. 'I do find it rather intriguing that it's the marriage proposal you appear to find offensive, whereas the—mm—dubious alternative at least produced a little soul-searching. It seemed a perfectly sensible solution to me.'

  Tor you, maybe,' she snapped back, angry at his unemotional, sensible acceptance of something he had found abhorrent to contemplate only a week ago. 'Do forgive my failure to be flattered, Greg—but yes, I did find the—dubious alternative preferable. That at least was honest.'

  `And what would be dishonest about us being married? There'd be nothing hole-in-the-corner about us being together. We're both adult enough not to expect any more than either of us can give. I can give you financial security. Your family would be well cared for, Kate. I know that's important to you.'

  Kate's temper left her as suddenly as it arrived. She felt as if she had spent the last few days on a roller-coaster and now it was time to disembark.

  This mess wasn't Greg's fault. How could she blame him for acting true to his nature? It wasn't in him to lie to her about his feelings. He liked her, respected her, wanted her enough to put aside his distaste for the marital state to offer her what he thought she needed—the security of a wedding ring.