A Taste of Sin

‘And the name of the game is always that you get what you want, isn’t it, Mr Bonnaire? There’s nothing altruistic about this scenario, is there? You don’t give a fig about my employer’s health, or whether I’m happy or not happy. Why should you? You know nothing about us! You’ve seen something you want and you’ll do anything...pay any price...to get it. Isn’t that how people like you operate?’

To Rose’s consternation, he chuckled. It was a rich, gravelly sound that sent shivers running up and down her spine.

‘Touché...you’ve got it in one. You’re a bright woman...’

‘Don’t patronise me!’

Sighing, he folded his arms over his chest and studied her. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. I’d much rather have you on my side than make you my enemy, Rose. By the way, your eyes are an incredible colour... I don’t doubt you’ve been told that many times before. What’s the shade? I’d say they were violet...’

Rose was hardly prepared for his remarks suddenly to become personal, even though he’d so passionately kissed her, and for several disturbing seconds it threw her. She could hardly think, let alone come back with a retort to put him in his place.

‘The colour of my eyes is neither here nor there. This conversation is completely futile. Now, I really need to close the shop and you have to go.’

‘Not yet. You haven’t told me what you intend to do.’

‘What do you mean?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you going to talk to your boss about accepting my new offer?’

Rose was still holding the piece of paper he’d given her and she carefully folded it and slipped it into her skirt pocket.

Returning her gaze to his, she said, ‘I’ll show him what you’re offering—of course I will—but if you’re asking if I’ll try and persuade him to take it, then, no...I won’t. Philip makes his own decisions—always has and always will. I neither have nor want any influence over him.’

‘I don’t believe you.’ Dropping his hands to his hips, Gene smiled. ‘I can sense that you’re a sensitive woman, Rose. I’m sure that Philip must appreciate that. If he knows that you care about his feelings then I’m sure he must respect any opinions you have about the matter and know that you have his best interests at heart.’

‘Even so, it would feel wrong for me to persuade him to just sell the building, and some of the antiques, when he dearly wants to sell the business as a going concern.’

‘But surely he must know by now that his beloved business clearly isn’t viable any more?’

‘Do you think I want to tell him that? When I know it’s been his life’s work and he’s lying ill in hospital?’

‘You would find a way to put it compassionately, I’m sure. You obviously care about him very much.’

‘I do...’

‘Then he is a lucky man.’

‘I’m the lucky one. If he hadn’t taken me on and taught me the trade I’d never have found the work that I’ve grown to love.’

‘I’m sure he must have found it a pleasure to teach you, Rose. What sentient man wouldn’t? Not only does he get a beautiful woman with captivating violet eyes and patrician cheekbones to work for him, but she becomes quite devoted to him too.’

Rose sensed her cheeks flush red. ‘I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. Philip isn’t attracted to me, if that’s what you’re implying, and neither am I to him. For goodness’ sake—he’s an elderly man, past retirement age!’

Gene was instantly apologetic. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve caused offence. I thought he must be middle-aged, but I didn’t realise he was elderly. I’m afraid I confess I was a little jealous when I heard you talk about him in such glowing terms.’

Dry-mouthed, Rose hardly knew what to say. The way he’d complimented her looks just now was unbearably seductive, and saying that he’d been jealous of her admiration for Philip was crazy. Coming from a man who could have any woman he wanted, it was plainly ridiculous.

Realising that for a dangerous moment she’d been more flattered than she should, Rose gritted her teeth. Gene Bonnaire was even more of a threat than she’d thought...

‘Look...I think you’d better just go. I mean it. I’ll be in touch if I get any news from Mr Houghton for you.’

For a surreal moment Gene honestly forgot what he was about—because he suddenly found himself even more mesmerised by the brunette. Those violet eyes of hers were strangely bewitching, and he’d fallen into a bit of dream staring back at them.

He’d known when he kissed her that he wanted to seduce her...it was just a matter of when...but his sudden fierce attraction was honestly a revelation—because Rose Heathcote certainly wasn’t the usual type of woman he was attracted to. She was not blonde, statuesque or shapely. She was small and slender, with black hair cut boyishly short. Yet the passionate spark in her eyes that he’d just witnessed, along with her feisty nature and her determination to protect her boss at all costs, made her surprisingly alluring.

It was another first, because Gene usually liked his women to be more compliant. He liked to be the one in control.

Quickly returning to his senses, he realised he was just going to have to bide his time and wait for Rose to speak to her boss.

Moving across to the door, he glanced out at the now teeming rain and then back at the diminutive brunette. ‘All right, then. I won’t press you any further. But tell me... Is there anything I can do for you, Rose? Does someone as generous as you are, with your regard for others, ever have her kindness reciprocated? For instance I’d be very interested to know if you have a personal heartfelt desire. If you do, then all you have to do is say the word and I’ll do my utmost to help you get it.’

‘Why would you want to do that? I suspect it’s because you have some devious ulterior motive...’

Gene laid his hand over his heart and grinned. ‘You wound me deeply.’

‘If you could give me my “heartfelt desire” then you’d be much more than a mere man. Has it never occurred to you that not all heartfelt desires are material ones?’ Rose challenged him.

He shrugged. ‘I can’t say I spend much time thinking about it. I prefer to deal with the tangible, not the abstract.’

‘So in your world feelings are abstract, are they?’

‘Why don’t you have dinner with me and we can talk about it?’

She grimaced. ‘I’d rather have dinner with a boa constrictor! At least I’d know for sure what I’d be dealing with.’

In spite of his disappointment that Rose didn’t seem to believe he might just want to give her something that pleased her, and at not immediately strengthening his chances to buy the property, Gene found her answer undeniably amusing. To his surprise, he also found it indisputably seductive...

‘I can’t say I’m flattered, Rose, but that’s funny!’

‘You should stop calling me Rose. It’s Miss Heathcote to you.’

Gene smiled. ‘I can see that I’ve really got to you, haven’t I? All right, then—I’ll go. But you haven’t heard the last of me...not by a long chalk...Rose...’

He opened the door and, with a resigned grimace, walked out into the rain.

* * *

The phone rang in the early hours of the morning and a brisk-sounding nurse from the hospital informed Rose that Philip had taken a turn for the worse and asked if she could she please come in. Feeling numb with fear, she dragged on her jeans, T-shirt and Mackintosh and practically flew out the door.

When she got to the hospital and was directed to a ward she drew in a deep breath as she saw him. White-faced and fragile, he was lying in bed breathing through an oxygen mask and wired up to the kind of medical paraphernalia that told her this was serious.

All her worst fears crashed in on her at the same time. It hadn’t escaped her notice that her boss had been transferred to the same ward that her father had been in when he died. He’d had a fatal coronary whilst in hospital for investigation into something relatively minor, so it had come as the most terrible shock. Was this how Philip was destined to leave her as well? Rose could hardly bear the thought.

The doctor on call had diagnosed pneumonia and he told her that it was crucial they stabilised the condition and that he got plenty of rest. To that end they would be keeping him in longer than they’d first envisaged, and would be treating him with antibiotics and extra oxygen.

As she sat by his bedside holding his hand, Philip opened his eyes just once, to acknowledge that he knew she was there, and she gently assured him that everything was going to be all right, that he wasn’t to worry. But even as she said the words Rose didn’t entirely believe them. Suddenly the man who had been such a firm friend to her and her father looked worryingly old and haggard...and very, very ill.

Having tried so hard to hold back the tears during her visit, as soon as she got home she threw herself onto the couch and the floodgates opened.