The Irresistible Tycoon (2 page)

‘That's for you to weigh in the balance and consider, surely, Mr Kane,' she answered coolly.

The silver eyes iced over a fraction more; her tone of voice clearly hadn't been to his liking. ‘Is it, indeed?' It was soft and low but with an underlying sharpness that suggested velvet disguising pure steel.

He had expected a stock answer—she had read that in the brief dart of surprise the silver-grey eyes had been unable to conceal—but she wasn't playing any sort of game with this man. If he wanted to conduct a straightforward interview that was one thing, but she wasn't going to be intimidated by Lucas Kane or anyone else.

He stared at her for another moment or two and she forced herself not to drop her gaze, and then he flicked the intercom on his desk.

‘Yes, Mr Kane?' June's voice sounded so wonderfully normal it made Kim want to get up and fly into the outer office.

‘Coffee, June, for Mrs Allen and myself.'

Kim had been half expecting him to tell his secretary that the interview was finished, or ask June to show her out—anything, in fact, but request coffee for them both. She found she badly wanted to smooth her hair but restrained the impulse to fiddle with the thick shining braid coiled tightly on top of her head, knowing the intuitive, razor-sharp mind on the other side of the desk would recognise the nervousness behind such a gesture.

‘Or perhaps you would prefer tea?' The brilliant gaze had fastened on her again after the brief respite.

‘Coffee will be fine, thank you,' she answered carefully, keeping her voice in neutral.

‘So, Mrs Allen…'

His voice was very distinctive, she thought shakily as she watched him settle himself comfortably in the vast leather chair and lean back slightly, crossing one long leg over the other knee as he surveyed her unblinkingly. Deep and ever so slightly husky, with the merest trace of an accent she couldn't quite place.

‘Are you a career woman?' he asked softly.

There was only one answer she could possibly give to such a leading question, given the circumstances; a reply in the affirmative was what he was expecting and what she must make—the knowledge was screamingly obvious. ‘My work is very important to me, Mr Kane, yes,' Kim said quickly. But not necessarily for the reasons he supposed, she added silently.

‘And I see you got a First at university. That must mean you worked hard but had a natural aptitude for the subject too?' he commented thoughtfully.

She couldn't read anything from either his tone or his face but somehow she felt a punchline was on the way, and she couldn't quite keep the wariness out of her voice when she said, ‘Yes, I suppose so.'

She saw the firm hard mouth twitch slightly, as though he was enjoying some private joke of his own, but his voice was still very even—almost expressionless—as he continued, ‘So why did you get married immediately on graduating from university, and moreover start a family within months, if you intended to make the most of your excellent qualifications and carve a career for yourself? It doesn't quite seem to add up, Mrs Allen.'

Flipping cheek! She thought about making some facetious reply and passing off what she considered an extremely intrusive question, but he had hit her on the raw—possibly because she had had cause to bitterly regret the marriage almost immediately—so her voice was cold when
she replied, ‘Whether it adds up or not, that is what happened, Mr Kane, and it is my business, no one else's.' Okay, so she'd blown it good and proper, she thought sickly, but she didn't want his rotten job anyway!

She expected a cutting retort, something stinging to put her in her place, but even as she had started speaking he had straightened in his seat and was bending over the papers again, his voice businesslike as he said, ‘Did you meet your husband at university?'

‘Yes.' It was succinct in the extreme but he didn't look up.

‘And I see you were widowed barely three years later. That must have been hard for you.'

There was nothing she could say to that and so she kept quiet, but he obviously didn't expect a comment as he continued immediately, ‘That would have meant your daughter was two years of age when you became a single-parent family?'

‘Yes.'

‘Tough break.'

There was a smokier quality to his voice as he spoke, a trace of warmth evident in the deep husky tones for the first time, and it unnerved her. Kim didn't know why it bothered her but it did, and she suddenly found she was acutely aware of the formidable breadth of his shoulders and the muscled strength evident beneath the superficial veneer of expensive cloth.

It took all coherent thought clean away, and in the pause which followed Lucas Kane raised his dark head, his piercing eyes narrowing on her troubled face. ‘You find it painful to talk about this, Mrs Allen?' he asked quietly.

Kim nodded—it seemed the safest option—but she was heartily thankful he had misunderstood the reason for her evident agitation.

‘I think you can appreciate I have to ask whether you
have suitable arrangements in place should the need arise for you to work late or even be away from home for a few days?' he continued expressionlessly after another brief pause. ‘Such occurrences are not unusual in this office.'

‘Yes, I do.' This was more solid ground and Kim's large chocolate-brown eyes expressed the sentiment to the perceptive metallic gaze watching her so closely, although she was unaware of it.

‘Melody was in full-time nursery care for two years before she started school in September and she loved it,' Kim said quickly, ‘and she's just sailed into school. The school provides an after-hours club for children with working parents which finishes at five-thirty, but if ever I'm unavailable to pick her up a good friend who lives close by and works from home steps in. If I had to go on a business trip, Maggie would love to have her for however long it took.'

‘How fortuitous.'

It was even and spoken without any expression but somehow Kim felt an implied criticism in the smooth tone. Her eyes narrowed and she stared hard into the tough masculine face in front of her, but other than ask him outright if he had a problem with the way she organised her affairs she could do nothing but say, coolly, ‘Yes, it is. I'm very fortunate to have a friend like Maggie.'

‘You don't have family living near?'

‘No. My…my husband was an only child and his parents had him late in life. They're now in their sixties and his father is in poor health so they rarely travel from Scotland, where they live.'

‘And your family?' he persisted relentlessly.

What this had to do with her aptitude to do the job, she didn't know! ‘I have no family,' she said shortly.

‘None?'

He sounded faintly incredulous and she supposed she couldn't blame him. ‘I was orphaned as a young child,' she
said matter-of-factly. ‘I lived with an elderly aunt for a time but when she died and left her estate to her own family I was put in a children's home.'

The silver-grey eyes flickered briefly.

‘So,' Kim continued quietly, ‘I suppose I might have some distant relatives somewhere but I wouldn't go so far as to call them family, and I certainly have no wish to trace any of them. I've made my own life and that's the way I like it.'

He leant back in the chair again, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘I see.'

Exactly what he saw Kim wasn't sure, but she felt she had as much chance of being offered this job as a snowball in hell.

‘Since your husband died you have worked for Mr Curtis of Curtis & Brackley, is that right? And the firm went into liquidation four weeks ago.' He was reading from her CV again and the relief of having that laser-sharp gaze off her face was overwhelming.

‘Which is when I saw this job advertised,' Kim agreed.

‘Mr Curtis seems to have thought a great deal of you. He has written what I can only describe as a glowing reference.'

And she had earned it. Hours of overtime a week; calls in to the office to deal with minor panics at weekends; interrupted holidays—Bob Curtis had had no compunction in wringing every last working minute he could out of her. But the salary had been good and Curtis & Brackley had been practically on her doorstep and just down the street from Melody's nursery. But it had been the memory of trailing from interview to interview, in the span between Graham's death and securing a job, that had induced her to put up with almost anything.

Bob had been kind enough in his own way and she had found the running of the small office exerted no great pres
sure or stress; indeed in the last six months she had been becoming increasingly bored.

‘It was a nice family firm to work for,' Kim said now as she realised Lucas Kane was waiting for a response.

‘Kane Electrical is not a nice family firm,' came the dry reply as the eagle eyes flashed to meet hers again. ‘Do you think you are capable of making the transition?'

It wasn't so much what he said but the way in which he said it, and again it caught Kim on the raw, calling forth a terse reply that was not like her, she thought confusedly even as she said, ‘I wouldn't have wasted your time or mine in applying for the position if I didn't, Mr Kane.'

She saw the dark brows frown and his mouth tighten, but June chose that precise moment to knock and enter with the coffee, and Kim had never been so pleased to see anyone in her life. She knew she was flushed, she could feel her cheeks burning, and she acknowledged her tone had not been one which a prospective employee would dream of using to their future employer, but it was
him
, Lucas Kane, she told herself in silent agitation. She had never met such a patronising, arrogant, downright
supercilious
man in all her life.

‘Do you own a car, Mrs Allen?'

‘What?' She had just settled back in her seat after accepting her cup of coffee from June and was bringing the cup to her lips when the question, barked as it was, made the steaming hot coffee slurp over the side of the china cup into the saucer as Kim gave an involuntary start.

‘A car?' he repeated very distinctly.

The tone was now one of exaggerated patience, and it brought the adrenalin pumping again as she took a deep breath and forced herself not to bite back, instead speaking calmly and coolly as she said, ‘No, I do not own a car, Mr Kane.'

‘But I see you have passed a driving test. Are you a
confident driver?' His eyes were like narrowed points of silver light. ‘Or perhaps I should ask if you are a competent one?' he added silkily.

‘I'm both confident and competent,' she answered smartly. ‘Maggie has me on her insurance so I borrow her car when I need to.'

‘Ah, the ever-helpful Maggie.'

She
definitely
didn't like his tone, and she had just opened her mouth to tell him so, and to point out what he could do with his wonderful job, when he said, ‘If you were offered this post and accepted it a car would be provided for your use. A BMW or something similar. I don't want my secretary trailing about waiting for buses that arrive late, or being unable to get from A to B in the shortest possible time.'

She stared at him, uncertain of what to say. Was he telling her all this so that she would be aware of what she had missed when he turned her down? she asked herself wretchedly. She wouldn't put anything past Lucas Kane.

‘And there would be a clothing allowance,' he continued smoothly, his gaze running over her for a second and reminding her that her off-the-peg suit—although smart and businesslike—was not in the same league as the couturier number June was wearing. ‘There is the occasional function here in England which requires evening dress, but certainly on the trips abroad you will require an array of clothes.'

If she had been flushed before she knew she was like a beetroot now. He had put it fairly tactfully, she had to admit, but the end result was that he considered her an office version of Cinderella! But clothing for herself
had
been the last priority since Graham had died, in fact she couldn't remember buying anything new since then, apart from items of underwear. She just hadn't been able to afford it…

‘Yes, I see.' She forced the words out through stiff lips
and then took a hefty sip of the hot coffee, letting it burn a fortifying path down into her stomach.

He didn't have a clue how the other half lived, she thought savagely, shading her eyes with her thick lashes so he wouldn't see the anger in her eyes. For the last two years she had lain awake nearly every night doing interminable sums in her head, even though she knew the end result would be fruitless.

Her marriage had been a nightmare but Graham's death—following a drinking binge when he had fallen through a shop plate-glass window—had unleashed a whole new set of horrors. Her husband had left debts—frightening, mind-boggling debts, as far as she was concerned—and, Graham being Graham, he hadn't been concerned about tying her into the terrifying tangle. She had been so
stupid
in the early days of their marriage; she'd trusted him, signed papers without enquiring too much about the whys and wherefores, and the payments she'd believed had been as regular as clockwork just hadn't happened.

Not only that but he had borrowed from friends, business colleagues,
anyone
who would lend him money to finance his failing one-man business and—more importantly, to Graham—his alcohol addiction.

She had known, once she had become pregnant with Melody, there was something terribly wrong. The handsome, charming, flashing-eyed Romeo from university days had changed into someone she didn't recognise, but she had put it down to work stress, the unplanned pregnancy—she had become pregnant following a stomach bug which had made the Pill ineffective—all manner of things but the real cause.

She had loved him, made excuses for him—fool, fool,
fool
. And all the while the debts had been mounting, debts she was now struggling to pay off, month after painful month, as well as providing for her daughter and herself.