Sleeping Partners Page 5

  The day went well and everything ran like clockwork, which was fortuitous as due to a last minute problem with another client Drew had had to stay in Kensington and didn’t accompany Robyn to the launch as they’d planned. But it wasn’t ideal; the same thing could happen again when Drew would be needed, Robyn thought to herself as she drove home that evening. She’d had several approaches by prospective clients that very day, and very soon it was going to be case of refusing work she wanted to take which would break her heart, or gambling on the quality of service she could give which wasn’t an option. She was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.

  She was still mulling over the conundrum when she arrived back in Kensington and parked the car outside her house, which was probably why she didn’t notice the low-slung Aston Martin sports car several yards away…

  ‘Hi, Robyn.’ A very flustered, pink-cheeked Drew sprang up from her desk as Robyn stepped into the office, but Robyn wasn’t looking at her assistant. Her horrified eyes were fixed on the large, lean figure sprawled in one of the easy chairs at the side of the room, a cup of coffee in his hands and an innocent—too innocent—expression on his face.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she snapped abruptly.

  It was ungracious to put it mildly, but Clay’s voice was the epitome of charm as he drawled, ‘Hello, Robyn. Drew’s been looking after me admirably, as you can see.’

  She didn’t care if Drew had been looking after him or not! Or rather she wished Drew hadn’t let him over the threshold let alone fed him coffee. ‘I asked you what you’re doing here,’ she repeated tightly, her face straight and her eyes narrowing on his cool, relaxed countenance. He had a nerve!

  He looked marvellous. That thought was as unwelcome as the realisation that her heart was doing its level best to jump out of her chest. He had been smooth and suave and sophisticated Saturday night, and he was still all those things, but the black silk shirt open at the neck and dark charcoal trousers he was wearing today took the brooding maleness inherent in his attractiveness to another dimension.

  ‘I called by to see you of course.’ The husky voice was as deep and disturbing as ever, and Robyn had to force herself not to betray the shiver of awareness it produced in the core of her being, but it was unnerving. He was unnerving.

  ‘Why?’ she asked stiffly, fighting hard to keep cool.

  ‘To renew our old friendship?’ he suggested silkily.

  Robyn just stared at him, her mind racing as she prayed with silent desperation that Cassie hadn’t revealed anything of her business predicament after her warnings to her sister Saturday night. Please, God, not that. She couldn’t bear that.

  Her prayer was in vain.

  ‘And to perhaps suggest a new one,’ Clay continued smoothly.

  ‘A new one?’ Robyn was aware of Drew shifting uncomfortably at the side of them. ‘We were never friends, Clay,’ she said tightly.

  ‘No?’ The devastating ice-blue eyes surveyed the tall slender woman in front of him, the silver gaze taking in Robyn’s warm creamy skin, wide, heavily lashed velvet eyes and mass of rich red-gold curls. ‘Perhaps we weren’t at that,’ he drawled slowly.

  ‘Then, I repeat, why are you here?’

  ‘I would like to be your sleeping partner, Robyn,’ Clay said with magnificent coolness.

  Robyn heard Drew’s swift intake of breath at the side of her. The other woman had obviously been wondering if she’d done the wrong thing in letting this six-foot-plus dreamboat in the front door by the warmth of Robyn’s reception of him, and now she clearly couldn’t believe her ears.

  Robyn hated to spoil what was undoubtedly the highlight of Drew’s otherwise unremarkable day, but…‘You’ve been talking to Cass,’ she said flatly, before turning to Drew and adding, ‘Business, Drew. We’re just talking business here, so don’t go running away with any fancy ideas, okay?’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream…I mean, it’s nothing to do with me, and you’re not the sort— That is…’

  Robyn took pity on Drew’s ramblings and touched the other woman’s arm as she said, her voice soothing, ‘Mr Lincoln is a friend of Cass’s and my sister decided I needed a partner in the business when the bank manager was unforthcoming recently. That’s all.’ Drew knew all about the dilemma Robyn was in.

  ‘Right.’ Drew nodded, her pretty face expressing something that looked suspiciously like disappointment. Like Cass, she was forever encouraging Robyn to find herself a man, and as men went this one was sheer dynamite.

  ‘Look, Drew, why don’t you nip off now,’ Robyn added quietly. ‘You’ve put in a long day and you were here all day yesterday; I don’t want to work you to death.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Drew’s gaze flashed to Clay’s dark face for a moment and then back to Robyn’s. In spite of this hunk being the sort of guy only found in dreams, Robyn didn’t seem too happy he was here. ‘I’m not in any rush.’

  ‘Quite sure.’ Robyn understood what Drew was not saying and appreciated the concern, but what she had to say to Clay Lincoln was best said without an audience, especially one that couldn’t keep her eyes off him!

  She had to keep control of this situation; it was already escalating into something acutely embarrassing, thanks to her sister. She needed to be firm and polite when she made it clear she had no intention of taking advantage of his offer, which had clearly been made as a favour to Cass and Guy. She didn’t doubt Clay could afford to buy and sell a thousand little concerns like hers ten times over, but he was an astute businessman first and foremost and would never normally entertain such an undertaking. She was small fry, as much beneath his notice as an ant scurrying about on the ground and the last thing she needed—the very last—was any favours from Clay Lincoln.

  As the door closed behind Drew, Clay settled further in the chair, much to Robyn’s silent irritation, and drawled softly, ‘So, the help’s gone; we’re alone and now you can couch your refusal in the manner you prefer.’

  He was watching her intently in spite of the apparent easy nonchalance, perhaps waiting for a visible reaction to the provocative statement, but Robyn was determined not to give him the satisfaction of showing any emotion. She walked across to her desk which was at the far end of the room next to the large window which looked out onto the small paved garden surrounded by flowering shrubs—she’d decided on a garden which embodied no maintenance at all—and perched on the edge of it before she said, calmly and with little expression, ‘It is very kind of you, of course, but Cass had no right to mention the matter to you. I am not looking for a partner, Mr Lincoln.’

  ‘Yes, you are, but not this particular one.’

  It was said in such an easy conversational tone that for a moment the portent of his words didn’t register. And then, as the confrontational nature of his statement dawned on Robyn her cheeks burnt with the quick resentment only Clay seemed able to ignite and her small jaw clenched in anger. Okay, if he wanted to do this the hard way that was fine by her, she thought hotly. ‘If that’s what you think, why bother to come in the first place?’ she asked coldly.

  ‘Good question.’ He rose as he spoke, stretching like a long, lean cat and strolling down the room to lean against the wall opposite her desk, the strange silver-blue eyes never leaving her flushed face for a moment. She waited, but he didn’t speak.

  ‘Well?’ She was determined not to be intimidated. She hadn’t asked him to come here; she didn’t owe him a thing.

  The carved lips twitched a little and she could have sworn he found the situation amusing. That, more than anything else, put iron in her backbone. She would not be laughed at.

  ‘Perhaps I wanted to?’ he suggested with a softness that carried an edge of steel now.

  ‘Or perhaps you felt you had to?’ she returned bitterly. ‘I know my sister when she gets the bit between her teeth, Mr Lincoln: she doesn’t give up. At the moment Cass’s mission in life is to see me successful and happy, and she thinks the only way that can be achieved is for this business
to take off with a bang. She’s wrong.’

  ‘She’s a good person; you two are very fortunate to have such a warm relationship.’

  Robyn was taken aback. There had been something in his voice she couldn’t place but it had wiped away the hidden amusement she’d sensed a few moments ago. ‘Yes, she is a good person,’ she said after a pause. ‘She’s my best friend as well as my sister. I can’t remember a time when Cass wasn’t there for me.’

  He nodded slowly, his eyes like polished crystal which threw the ebony blackness of his hair into more startlingly sharp relief. Those eyes had been with her in her dreams for years, she realised suddenly. She’d never seen anyone else with such amazingly beautiful cold eyes. ‘Like I said, you’re very fortunate,’ he reiterated softly. ‘Both of you.’

  She stared at him as steadily as she could and hoped it disguised the fact that she was feeling totally out of her depth. Something had shifted in the last few seconds and she couldn’t put her finger on it, but whatever it was, it was very real.

  ‘Have you had dinner?’ he asked with a marked lack of expression.

  ‘What?’ And then she collected herself and managed to say quickly, ‘No, I’ve been at a launch all day and left as soon as I could to relieve Drew. I’ll have something later. I’m…I’m very tired,’ she added pointedly.

  ‘All the more reason to let me buy you dinner,’ he returned smartly. ‘I’m sure you don’t feel like fixing something yourself.’

  Dinner? Was he quite insane? They hadn’t said a civil word to each other since they’d met again after all these years and he wanted to buy her dinner? This was taking loyalty and friendship to Cassie and Guy too far!

  ‘And, before you say anything, it is because I want to, not because I feel obliged because of your sister or anything else,’ Clay said smoothly, reading her mind with an ease that alarmed her. ‘I leave for the States first thing in the morning and I’ll be away some time so it’s a one-off, don’t panic.’

  It was the mockery that did it. He was acting as though he thought she was frightened to have dinner with him, and nothing could have fired Robyn’s quick temper more effectively. She stiffened, her chin rising unconsciously and her beautiful brown eyes turning dark as she said, her voice clipped and short, ‘Thank you, Mr Lincoln, dinner would be very nice.’

  ‘Just one thing…’ he was smiling again, a sort of cat-with-the-cream smile that made her think she might just have played straight into his hands. ‘…cut the “Mr Lincoln” would you? It’s beginning to make me feel like a nineteenth-century headmaster, and Clay isn’t too difficult to get the tongue round.’ He raised dark eyebrows mockingly.

  She’d just agreed to have dinner with him! Robyn’s mind was racing. And she’d thought him the insane one! Whatever had made her rise to his particular brand of provocation like that? And why was he bothering with her anyway? He’d done his duty to Cass and Guy: he’d offered his help and she had refused him and that should have been that. She’d have thought he would have been breathing a silent sigh of relief at having got off so lightly. Oh, hell, none of this made sense. She didn’t make sense. She should never have agreed to go out with him tonight.

  ‘I’ll have to change first.’ She gestured at her clothes which had become somewhat crumpled throughout the day and were very definitely smartly functional rather than evening wear. ‘Would you like to wait upstairs?’ she added after a reluctant pause, hoping against hope he would refuse the invitation.

  She couldn’t have explained why but she didn’t want him to impinge into her living quarters. The office was different: this was practical space and as utilitarian as any other office, but her home was her. There were a lot of dreams woven into the next two floors and every cushion, every ornament or picture, had been chosen by her because she loved it. She had waited months sometimes before she could afford something or other—like the red voile drapes at the window. She had spotted them in a wickedly expensive shop, the borders being hand-sewn with exquisite tiny lacy leaves, but she had known nothing else would do and had tacked a couple of sheets at the window until she could afford the drapes. And it had been worth it. But now Clay Lincoln’s cynical, razor-sharp gaze was going to be able to dissect her inner self—or that’s what it felt like.

  But she was being silly. Robyn spoke sternly to herself as she walked across the office towards the stairs, Clay following behind her. For some reason this man still affected her in a way none other did, but she could get a handle on this. She had to get a handle on this!

  ‘The bathroom and kitchen are on this floor.’ Robyn gestured towards the rooms as they passed but didn’t stop climbing the stairs until they reached the large through-room at the top of the house, and then she stood aside for Clay to precede her.

  She was glad a mild golden sunlight was slanting through the windows at the end of the room and showing the colour scheme to its best advantage, along with highlighting the pretty tubs of flowers she had bought for the tiny balcony a couple of weekends before.

  The vibrant splashes of colour outside the windows drew the eyes and made the space in between appear even larger, encouraging the onlooker to look out into the wide expanse of blue sky beyond.

  ‘What a lovely room.’ Clay’s voice was genuinely appreciative, but Robyn couldn’t see his face as his back was towards her as he walked towards the balcony. ‘In fact this whole house is lovely, unusual. Did you have an interior designer or was it like this when you bought it?’

  ‘No and no.’ He turned as she spoke, and she had to remind herself to show no outward reaction as every defence mechanism in her body came alive in response to his overwhelming maleness. ‘The office was a small sitting room and separate kitchen, the bathroom was where it is but with a bedroom next door, and this floor consisted of two bedrooms. I had builders in for what seemed like the whole of my life but eventually they left and I could get on with decorating.’

  ‘And you designed it all? Planned it?’

  He sounded amazed and she was annoyed with herself at how pleased she felt. It didn’t matter if he approved of her or not—at least it shouldn’t. She nodded, adding, ‘I enjoyed it, it was fun. My grandmother left me some money—Cass and I both—and I used mine for this place. My own home, and the business too of course. I always had that in the back of my mind and it seemed like the right time, a once-in-a-lifetime chance.’

  ‘A lady who knows her own mind and what she wants in life.’

  It was said quietly and evenly, almost without expression, but as Robyn looked into the eyes which resembled silver ice under a blue winter sky she felt there was criticism under the surface. And as always she met the challenge head-on. ‘You disapprove of that?’ she asked directly. ‘Going for what you want?’

  ‘Should I?’ he returned with coolly lifted eyebrows.

  It was no answer but hot and sticky as she was, after a hectic day when she hadn’t even had time to renew her make-up or check her hair, Robyn was in no state to press the matter. For the time being at least. But she hadn’t liked that little remark.

  Clay looked as cool and well-groomed as if he had recently stepped out of the shower into fresh clothes—which he might well have done for all she knew. Robyn conceded temporary defeat and smiled brightly. ‘Help yourself to a drink, the cocktail cabinet is cunningly disguised in that little cupboard,’ she said lightly, pointing to the bottom of the pine dresser which sat with the table and chairs. ‘I won’t be long.’

  ‘Take all the time you need.’ And then he smiled.

  Robyn stood transfixed, hypnotised. She’d forgotten that smile. How could she have forgotten that smile? It had always had the power to transform the devastatingly hard handsomeness into something much more lethal, softening the chiselled features as it did and bringing a warm silkiness to the piercing eyes.

  He had smiled at her like that the first time Guy had brought him to the house to meet Cass; it had been that very moment, at the age of twelve, she had fallen hopelessly in love w
ith him…

  But that was the past. She dragged in a secret breath and schooled her face into a careful smile, turning away as she said, ‘Turn the TV on if you like.’

  She almost went headlong down the stairs, and it was at that point she warned herself not to dredge up any more memories from the past. Clay Lincoln in the present was more than enough to cope with and she needed all her wits about her.

  She ran a shallow bath and stripped off her clothes quickly. She was out of the water again in a couple of minutes, padding out onto the landing in her long towelling robe and then standing in front of the long fitted cupboard that served as her wardrobe for valuable minutes as she mentally discarded one outfit after another, working herself into a real tizzy in the process.

  ‘Oh, get a grip, girl.’ She shut her eyes tightly as she breathed out the admonition but her head was whirling. Somehow Clay was back in her life and it terrified her.

  No, no it didn’t. Her eyes snapped open and the inner voice was savage. He was nothing to her so how could he have any effect on her, she told herself fiercely. She would have dinner with him because there was nothing else she could do in the circumstances, but once tonight was over then that would be that. By his own admission he was planing to be away some time and in the intervening period she would make it crystal clear to Cass exactly why she never wanted to see Clay Lincoln again. It would be both painful and humiliating to reveal the past and her part in what had been a disastrous episode, but she should have told her sister years ago. She saw that now.

  Robyn reached inside the wardrobe and took the first dress she came to off the hanger. She wasn’t going to worry about how she looked either. No titivating.

  The dress was a plain one in dark brown wool and she’d never particularly liked it. She stared at it for a moment in her hands, bit her lip at her own inconsistency, and then replaced it quickly before selecting an olive-green cashmere dress that was gathered at the neck and fell to just below her knees. It had cost her an arm and a leg at the beginning of the winter a few months ago, but it fitted like a dream and turned her size twelve into a size eight by some magic all of its own. She’d managed to find some strappy shoes of exactly the same colour and now she pulled those out, dressing quickly and frowning at herself when her hands shook as she fixed big gold hoops in her ears in the bathroom.