Undying Love

‘What do you think of Jane for my replacement?’ she asked as they drank their coffee, having decided it was time for the ‘business’ discussion he had asked for.

Rick frowned, giving the idea some thought. ‘No,’ finally came his blunt answer.

She held back her sharp retort with effort. When she had taken over Fashion Lady a year ago Henry had more or less given her complete control, to do what she felt best for the magazine, to make what decisions she felt were necessary, and without being conceited she knew that the majority of them had been the right decisions. For her to have consulted Rick Dalmont at all just now had been hard enough, to have him turn down her suggestion so emphatically was a damned insult.

‘Why not?’ she snapped in challenge.

He shrugged. ‘I want someone with a new approach, not a staff member who still has her loyalties to you and the new projects you started.’

‘Then you agree I’ve given Fashion Lady some input?’ Her sarcasm was barely contained.

Rick raised dark brows at her vehemence. ‘It’s good to see that something can fire your interest.’

‘Plenty of things do that, Mr Dalmont!’

‘But not me?’

‘No, not you! Now about Jane——’

‘I said no,’ he rasped.

‘And that’s the last that will be said on the subject?’ she scorned.

‘Yes!’

She drew in a deep controlling breath. ‘Very well,’ her tone was once again cold and remote, ‘I’ll see about advertising for a replacement.’

‘It was your decision to leave, Shanna,’ he reminded softly.

‘And I don’t regret it for a moment!’ She stood up. ‘If you’ll excuse me, my lunch-hour was over long ago.’

Rick stood up too, putting some money down on the table to cover the bill. ‘I didn’t think you had noticed,’ he taunted, his hand firm on her elbow as they left the restaurant together.

‘I noticed,’ she derided. ‘But it’s your time…’

‘In that case,’ his mouth tightened, ‘I’d like you to spend the afternoon with me at my hotel, discussing business, of course.’

‘Of course,’ she said dryly. ‘I have too much to do at the office, Mr Dalmont,’ she refused.

‘Some other time, eh?’ he mocked.

‘I doubt it.’

‘So do I,’ he grinned, suddenly looking younger. ‘I wish you would reconsider your decision to leave, Shanna. With a few changes, and your dedication,’ he taunted, ‘Fashion Lady could become the top women’s magazine in the country.’

‘I doubt I would like your changes, Mr Dalmont.’

‘Even if they are for the good of Fashion Lady?’ His eyes were narrowed.

‘In your opinion!’ she scorned. ‘Since when did you become an expert on publishing, Mr Dalmont?’

‘Since I bought Fashion Lady and made it my business to be!’ he snapped angrily, stopping a passing taxi to open the door for her to get inside, leaning on the open window after closing the door behind her. ‘I’ll be seeing you, Shanna,’ he told her grimly before nodding to the driver to take her back to her office.

Shanna stared straight ahead as the taxi moved off into the heavy London traffic, knowing Rick Dalmont’s last words had been in the form of a threat. She would indeed be ‘seeing’ him—he would make sure of that.

It wasn’t until she got back to her office that she realised that, except for her asking about Jane, they hadn’t discussed business at all during lunch. Rick Dalmont was more than distrustful, he was dangerous!

‘What a shock!’ Jane came into her office on her return. ‘I had no idea Fashion Lady was for sale.’

Shanna grimaced. ‘Neither did I until yesterday.’

Jane’s eyes widened. She was a pretty woman in her early twenties, the same as Shanna, her blonde hair kept short and easily styled, her make-up light and attractive, her clothes always fashionably smart. ‘Henry didn’t tell you?’ She sounded surprised.

‘Not until it was too late.’

‘Mm—well, Mr Dalmont does have the financial backing Fashion Lady needs.’

She frowned. ‘You don’t mind that he’s the new boss?’

Jane shrugged. ‘I know it must be difficult for you, with Henry being your brother, but a boss is a boss as far as I’m concerned. The way things are for unemployment in this country at the moment we’re all lucky to have jobs at all.’

Jane’s down-to-earth attitude was something she needed at the moment. They were all lucky to have a job, and jobs as editors didn’t come along every day, she doubted she would be lucky enough to find another one, even with references.

It was something that bothered her as she prepared to go out later that evening. Financially she didn’t need to work, both Perry and her father had left her very well off, but mentally and emotionally…? Heavens, she couldn’t spend her days sitting around the apartment just counting the minutes away! That would only lead to thoughts of Perry, of the last traumatic months of their marriage.

Damn, she was thinking about it already! She had taken great care to fill all of her time, with work in the day, sometimes until she felt like collapsing, and with a round of parties in the evenings. She rarely gave herself time to think, let alone dwell on the past.

And tonight would be no exception! So she would be out of a job in three months, she would find something else, she would make sure she did.

She looked her usual cool and composed self later that evening when she arrived at Steven and Alice Grant’s for dinner. The middle-aged couple were old friends of her father’s, and her own friendship with them had continued even after his death. This evening was a celebration of their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and she knew Alice was pleased with the jade figurine Shanna had given her to add to her already extensive collection.

She already knew most of the other guests at the Grant house, and made a beeline for her brother as she spotted him across the room, a smiling Janice at his side.

‘Going somewhere?’ drawled the familiar gravel and honey voice that she was beginning to feel was haunting her.

She schooled her features to remain calm, turning slowly to face Rick Dalmont. Goodness, he was dressed to kill tonight! The black velvet jacket fitted smoothly across his powerful shoulders, the white of his shirt making his skin appear swarthier than ever, his black trousers moulded to the lean length of his long legs. His dark eyes were filled with amusement as he met and held her gaze, his black hair brushed back from its side-parting to rest low over his ears and collar. He held a drink in his hand, evidence that he had been here for some time.

‘Good evening, Mr Dalmont,’ she greeted softly.

He moved closer to her. ‘Hello, Shanna.’

‘We do seem to—keep meeting.’

‘No, we don’t seem to do anything,’ he drawled. ‘But then I’m sure you already knew that.’

‘Steven and Alice are friends of yours?’ She ignored the intimacy of his tone.

He shook his head. ‘I’ve never met them before this evening.’