Love's Only Deception

Callie held the book in front of her almost defensively, something about this man warning her he was dangerous. ‘Which means you have?’ she persisted.

‘Twice, actually.’

‘So you liked it.’

‘I think Rochester could have been a little kinder to Jane.’ He shrugged. ‘But if he had been perhaps she wouldn’t have fallen for him. You women are reputed to fall for the bastards of life.’

Callie flushed her resentment of such a generalisation. ‘We can’t pick and choose whom we love—neither men nor women. And Mr Rochester wasn’t kind to Jane because he was conscious of his mad wife.’

The man sat down in one of the armchairs, looking very relaxed. ‘If he had been that conscious of her he would have sent her away as soon as he realised he was becoming attracted to her.’

Her mouth twisted. ‘Unfortunately most humans aren’t that self-sacrificing.’

He eyed her curiously for several seconds, obviously liking what he saw. ‘Before we come to blows perhaps I should introduce myself. I’m Logan Carrington,’ he introduced softly.

‘Callie Day,’ she returned stiffly.

‘I’ve upset you,’ he said ruefully. ‘I didn’t mean to. Jane Eyre is a favourite of yours, hmm?’

‘Yes.’ She sighed, beginning to smile at her intensity. ‘Sorry,’ she shrugged, ‘they say you should never get into a discussion about religion or politics, but with me it’s books. Everyone gets something different out of them.’

‘Truce?’

‘Truce.’ She smiled openly now, very attractive in a dress the brown of her eyes, her hair made to look even blonder against its dark colour.

He sat forward to put his hand out to her. ‘Friends?’

She hesitated for only a fraction of a second before placing her hand in his. ‘Friends,’ she agreed huskily.

The touch of his hand against hers was only fleeting, and yet her ringers seemed to tingle from the contact before she hastily thrust her hand behind her back and placed the book back on the shelf. She turned to find him still watching her.

‘Do I have a smut on my nose or something?’ she challenged, not being used to being stared at in this way.

Logan Carrington smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘Nothing like that,’ he shook his head. ‘I was just wondering why a beautiful girl like you would shut herself away in here when the party is out there.’

‘Maybe for the same reason you’ve come in here,’ she returned, a glow coming to her cheeks at being called beautiful.

‘I doubt it,’ he grimaced. ‘Unless you have secretary trouble?’

‘No,’ she laughed. ‘I am a secretary.’

Much to Marilyn’s disgust she had kept on with her job, sure that the bubble of her sudden wealth would burst and leave her penniless. She could do without being jobless too. She had been brought up with a sense of values, of having to work for what she had, and it was going to take months, not weeks, to accept that she no longer had to work. Besides, the question of Jeff’s will hadn’t been settled yet, and she didn’t intend spending money she didn’t even have.

‘You are?’ Logan Carrington looked interested.

‘And very happily employed, thank you,’ she told him hastily.

‘Oh.’

‘If your girl is incompetent——’

‘She isn’t,’ he made a face. ‘She’s very good at the job.’

Callie sat down, looking puzzled. ‘Then I don’t understand your problem.’

‘She’s new, my last secretary has left to have a baby. Her replacement is—well, she—she just isn’t suitable.’

The uncomfortableness of his expression told a story in itself. ‘She’s attracted to you,’ Callie guessed with amusement.

‘Yes,’ he admitted with a grimace.

She had trouble holding back a smile. ‘I wouldn’t have thought that a drawback.’

‘Except that I don’t get involved with my secretaries.’

‘Ah, now that is a problem.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you mocking me?’

‘Me?’ she gave him an innocently wide-eyed look. ‘Of course not.’

‘You are,’ he gave a reluctant smile.

‘Yes,’ she smiled back.

‘So tell me, why are you hiding in here?’

‘I’m not hiding!’ She was irritated by his choice of word. ‘But I am bored and—and tired.’

‘Tired?’ He raised one dark eyebrow.

‘I haven’t been sleeping very well lately—and not for the reason you’re thinking,’ she added sharply at his speculative look. ‘Do you have any idea of the pain babies suffer while they’re teething?’ she attacked.

‘Your baby?’

‘Of course not! I’m not married.’

His brows rose. ‘I didn’t think that was compulsory nowadays.’

‘In my book it is,’ Callie told him waspishly. ‘The baby lives next door. And he’s going through agony.’

Poor Marilyn had been pacing the floor day and night with Paul the last few weeks, and it was starting to tell on her, dark circles appearing under her eyes. And Callie knew she didn’t look much better. The walls of the flat were not exactly soundproof, although not for anything would she let Marilyn and Bill know of her own disturbed nights.

‘I thought they had creams and things for that nowadays,’ Logan Carrington spoke now.

Her eyes widened. ‘They do. But I have to admit to being surprised that you know about things like that. Do you have children of your own?’

‘I’m not married,’ he gave her own answer.