A Bad Enemy. Sara Craven

      She looked up into the harshly unsmiling face, her green eyes widening. ‘There are—other complications? He can’t—oh God, he can’t be—dead already, and you haven’t told me?’

      ‘Of course not. But you’re right that there are complications—although it’s true to say that Murray is causing them, not suffering from them.’

      Lisle felt unutterably weary. She slid a hand round the nape of her neck, freeing her heavy fall of copper hair from the confines of her coat collar.

      ‘All the complications seem to be in your head, Mr Allard. Could you explain more clearly, if you must, and a damned sight more quickly.’

      ‘Last time I gave you bad news, Miss Bannerman, you complained because I didn’t break it to you gently.’

      ‘Oh, I’m not listening to any more of this!’ Lisle turned away impatiently, but he detained her, taking her arm, not gently, and pulling her round to face him.

      ‘Yes, you are,’ he grated. ‘You’re going to listen, you spoiled little bitch, so that if Murray is conscious and able to speak, you’ll be able to tell him what he wants to hear.’

      ‘That I’m delighted he’s apparently selling out to you?’ Lisle demanded, green eyes sparkling. ‘The words would choke me.’

      ‘Then chew them well,’ he came back at her, his mouth twisting. ‘Because it’s no business deal he wants you to approve. What Murray’s waiting to hear is that I’ve asked you to marry me—and that you’ve agreed.’

       CHAPTER TWO

      THERE was a long screaming silence.

      At last, Lisle said huskily, ‘You—cannot be serious.’

      Jake Allard said with a kind of weary impatience, ‘Is it likely I’d be joking—about such a thing—and at a time like this?’

      She looked at him blankly. ‘But Murray couldn’t—he wouldn’t. …’

      ‘Wrong on both counts, I’m afraid.’ The grey eyes flickered over her, then still holding her arm Jake began to propel her towards some of the tan leather benches, placed back to back in the main reception area. He said abruptly, ‘Sit down. I’m going to phone up to the unit and see if they’re ready for us.’

      Lisle was thankful to feel the solid support of the bench under her. Her mouth was dry and she was shaking from head to foot. She found herself thinking with sudden mocking clarity that if she collapsed, at least it would be in the right place. She placed her folded hands on her knees, and sat staring at them, noticing almost detachedly the white knuckles, the strained grip of the slender fingers. She felt shattered. Incapable of assimilating what Jake had said, or rationalising it.

      It seemed a very long time before Jake came back, but she knew that in reality it was only a few minutes. She looked up at his dark face, mentally bracing herself for more bad news, more shocks, but his cool, guarded expression gave nothing away.

      ‘Sister says fifteen minutes. We’ll go to the cafeteria and wait there.’

      She didn’t even think of protesting. She went with him across the foyer to the lifts. An elderly man holding a bunch of flowers, a youth, barely out of his teens by the look of him, with his arm tenderly round the shoulders of a massively pregnant girl were already waiting. As the lift began its upward journey, Lisle found her gaze straying constantly to the young couple. The girl’s left hand with its wide golden band lay protectively over her distended abdomen, and although she was clearly nervous, she was smiling up at her husband, her eyes bright with excitement and happiness.

      Marriage, Lisle thought numbly, the ultimate partnership. Sharing a life, sharing a bed, conceiving a child in mutual passion, caring for it together ….

      She glanced at Jake and found him watching her with such irony that her face was flooded with sudden, burning colour.

      The cafeteria was a dazzle of bright lights, stainless steel, and red formica-topped tables with matching plastic seats. The coffee was surprisingly good and came in thick white institutional cups. Lisle refused anything to eat, but Jake bought a round of cheese sandwiches and ate them with every evidence of enjoyment. When he had finished, he pushed the plate away and looked at her.

      ‘For God’s sake stop staring at me as if you expect to be leapt upon at any moment,’ he said. ‘I promise you nothing could be further from my mind.’

      ‘I wasn’t!’ Lisle denied indignantly. ‘But you can’t expect to—to spring things on me like that and expect me to take it in my stride.’

      ‘I suppose not.’ He gave her a long, considering glance. ‘Well, Miss Bannerman, I think we’d better talk—or may I call you Lisle, seeing that we’re practically engaged.’

      ‘We are not engaged!’ Lisle returned her cup to its saucer with a bang that even put that sturdy china at risk. ‘I’d rather die!’

      ‘Death before dishonour?’ The firm lips curved in frank amusement. ‘That’s a curiously old-fashioned viewpoint.’

      ‘I don’t give a damn how old-fashioned it is,’ she said shortly. ‘Arranged marriages aren’t exactly eighties-style either.’

      ‘I don’t think the Asian community among us would necessarily agree with you.’ Jake’s tone was deceptively mild. ‘And they have our galloping divorce rate to back them up too. But that’s by the way—what I really want to get across to you is that you’re not to give Murray a blow-by-blow account of your true opinion of me, my manners, morals or anything else which occurs to you. This scheme of his to marry us to each other is dear to his heart, and you’re not going to upset him by dismissing it out of hand.’

      Lisle sat up very straight on the uncomfortable plastic chair. ‘You’re not suggesting that I should—go along with it?’

      ‘Why not?’ He gave her a level look. ‘I’m prepared to—and I have just as little taste for you as you have for me, darling. But although you probably don’t know it, Murray and I go a long way back. He was good to me when I was starting up, and gave me a lot of help and advice. I owe him, in other words, and I think you do too, lady, if your expensive flat, your pretty clothes and your sinecure at Harlow Bannerman are anything to go by, not to mention the unlimited expense account you and your brother have been running.’

      ‘You have been busy,’ Lisle commented, a bright spot of colour in each cheek.

      The grey eyes hardened with contempt. ‘It’s time someone was, sweetheart, otherwise your private gravy train could come off the rails for good. Your grandfather has decided I’m the right man for the job, and my appointment as managing director will be confirmed by the board early next week.’

      ‘Not if Gerard and I have anything to do with it,’ she said furiously.

      ‘Gerard will find himself isolated,’ he said curtly. ‘Perhaps you’ve forgotten that your voting shares in the company are under your grandfather’s control until you’re twenty-five, and he’s already signed a proxy supporting my appointment.’ He paused, then added with heavy emphasis, ‘And he’s selling me his own block of shares, so I won’t just be running the company, trying to get it back on its feet again, I’ll be controlling it too.’

      Lisle drew a deep uneven breath. ‘You—you took advantage of a sick old man. …’

      He gave a derisive laugh. ‘You’d better not let Murray hear you say that. He was in top form when he made our deal, and if you don’t believe me ask Oliver Grayson.’

      ‘That—Judas?’

      He shrugged. ‘On the contrary, I found him a good man. I think we’re going to work well together.’

      Lisle gripped the edge of the table, fighting for self-control. ‘I don’t believe