Elusive Obsession. Carole Mortimer

      This young woman could be trouble with a capital T. Good God, there was no could about it!

      He broke their gaze with easy dismissal, turning back to Charles Oxley, knowing a momentary satisfaction as he did so that the other man was no longer touching this exquisitely lovely creature—although he knew that none of that pleasure would be obvious in his expression; years of schooling his features and learning to hide his innermost thoughts and emotions meant that he now did it automatically. Until a few minutes ago when Diana joined them he had wondered at Oxley’s sexual inclinations, but the way the other man looked at the model he was left in no doubt. Or was it just that this woman-child was so exotically lovely that no man could look at her without appreciating her understated sensuality…?

      ‘I don’t want a gown designed, Charles,’ he drawled dismissively. ‘I want the one I saw tonight.’

      Charles frowned. ‘The one…? But—I think the bride should see it first before making any decision, don’t you?’ he attempted to cajole. ‘It may not be—what she wants for herself. I would be pleased to set a time when we can all get together to discuss what you would like,’ he added lightly, obviously not wanting to offend by refusing the wedding gown Divine had modelled earlier.

      Reece knew exactly why the other man was prevaricating, could appreciate Charles Oxley’s reluctance to let a woman wear a gown, wedding or otherwise, that he wasn’t absolutely positive would look right on her and at the same time be a credit to his undoubted reputation as a designer. At the same time that he could appreciate the other man’s feelings, however, he also knew that he wanted the gown!

      ‘She’s seen it,’ he told the other man drily. ‘She likes it. It’s what she wants.’ And what that particular lady wanted, she got!

      This time there was no mistaking a reaction in the model Divine as she stood at Charles Oxley’s side. She didn’t move, and her facial expression—strangely, for one so young—remained perfectly controlled. And yet Reece knew his words had disturbed her; he could feel the tension in her.

      Tension was the very least of what this young woman should feel; she was responsible for trying to thwart his plans for Chris. A fact he intended rectifying at the first opportunity.

      Although he had to admit, if Chris had to choose a woman to have a passionate fling with, he had better taste than Reece would have given him credit for. This young model Divine wasn’t at all what he had been expecting when he’d heard of the relationship. Although she must only be a year or so older than Chris’s twenty, at the same time she gave the impression that she was much older than that; there was also a vulnerability about her that he knew she tried to hide by her very elusiveness. A strange combination. Interesting. Intriguing…He already knew he meant to learn more about her.

      He didn’t question the fact that he found attractive the young girl his own son had told him he wanted to marry. Chris would get over the infatuation, hopefully learn from it, and there was little in Reece’s own life that he denied himself once he had established in his own mind that he wanted it. And everyone, he had learnt with increasing cynicism, had their price. With Chris, this particular young lady’s price appeared to have been marriage. But then, it was standard practice, in any deal, to ask for more than you actually expected to get. It was time Chris, as much as this young girl, learnt that!

      ‘I’m flattered, Mr Falcon,’ Charles began tentatively, ‘that the bride should like that particular gown so much——’

      ‘Don’t be,’ Reece drawled. ‘This particular lady is used to getting what she wants.’ Every time. And she was a beautiful, maddening bundle of provocation. He pitied—and envied—any man who tried to tame her.

      Oxley still looked dismayed at the way the conversation was going, obviously searching for that narrow line between being polite to what he appreciated was a prestigious customer, and yet at the same time standing by his own professional reputation. ‘But if we could just——’

      ‘Charles—I’m sorry to interrupt.’ A slightly breathless lady in her early forties bore determinedly down on them, looking at Reece briefly, chewing on her bottom lip as she recognised him instantly. ‘Edgar Poole is looking for you,’ she told Charles awkwardly.

      Reece was well aware of who Edgar Poole was; he had done business with the successful entrepreneur several times in the past, and had actually gone into a couple of deals with him too. Successfully, of course. They both played to win. And Edgar’s young and lovely wife would be the reason the other man was here at all today. Reece could appreciate Oxley’s dilemma now in not knowing whether he should continue his conversation with him—one that he was finding it difficult to deal with—or go and see Edgar and the lovely Caryn, who might be more agreeable to deal with.

      Reece decided, on this occasion, to take pity on him, inwardly admitting that he felt slightly distracted himself, but for quite a different reason. ‘I’ll give you a call within the next few days, Charles,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘But I won’t change my mind about the wedding gown,’ he warned him. ‘And believe me,’ he added derisively, ‘neither will the bride!’

      The bride. Every time she was mentioned Diana felt her nerves jangle. She had had no idea… In all the weeks she had known Chris, not once had he mentioned that his father was contemplating marriage. In fact, for years now, Reece Falcon had been avoiding that very state. Not that there hadn’t been numerous women wanting to change his mind about that, but the man himself had just been determined he wasn’t going to make that sort of commitment to any woman ever again.

      But now that Diana was aware of the impending marriage she didn’t doubt who the intended bride was to be; she had a vivid memory, as she walked down the catwalk in the wedding gown earlier, of a red-tipped hand resting proprietorially on Reece Falcon’s arm as the beautiful redhead sitting beside him engaged him in conversation while her gaze remained firmly fixed on Diana wearing the gown.

      From what Diana remembered about the other woman—and she wished now she had taken more notice of her!—Charles was right to feel concerned about the advisability of Reece Falcon’s bride wearing that particular gown; the redhead had looked too short to be able to carry off the beautiful simplicity of the long flowing lines of the gown.

      Diana found now, as she turned back to look at Reece Falcon as Charles hurried off with Joanna at his side, that her own gaze was on a level with the aquiline nose with that intriguing bump at its bridge. At the same time she also realised the two of them, for all that the room was crowded with people, were effectively alone. And now that she had learnt of his marriage she needed time to sit down and consider what effect that had on her own plans.

      She gave him a politely dismissively smile. ‘If you’ll excuse me——’

      ‘No,’ he told her evenly, effortlessly.

      Her lashes fluttered uncertainly as she looked at him, momentarily disconcerted. ‘I’m sorry,’ she finally shook her head. ‘I——’

      ‘Are you?’ he rasped, eyes narrowed to silver slits.

      She frowned now, unsure of the change of mood. ‘I meant——’

      ‘I know what you meant, Divine.’ His mouth twisted with scorn for her professional name. ‘I happen to think, having now met you, that you’re probably enjoying yourself.’

      Diana met his gaze unflinchingly. ‘If I didn’t enjoy my work, Mr Falcon, then I wouldn’t do it any more.’

      Dark brows rose mockingly. ‘From what I hear of the fees top-class models—and I include you, obviously, in that category,’ he drawled, acknowledging the slight inclination of her head, at the compliment, with one of his own, ‘command nowadays, that would be a little foolish, don’t you think?’

      Her mouth firmed, eyes flashing slightly at the taunt. ‘Some things are more important than money, Mr Falcon——’ She broke off in stunned defence as he began to laugh at the comment, not a soft chuckle, but loud mocking laughter that had people all around the room turning to look at them curiously, a soft