Flight of Fantasy. Valerie Parv
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view of a shared future then make it conditional on her being perfect. Even assuring Joshua that her mother’s illness always skipped a generation hadn’t helped.
He didn’t love her enough to accept her as she was. There it was in a nutshell. Maybe all men were like Joshua and her father, who had left the family while Eden was still a teenager, before her mother’s illness became apparent. He had missed the worst of Peggy’s gradual decline, which had only recently led to her requiring full-time nursing. If he couldn’t cope with Peggy’s possessive nature before she became ill he wouldn’t have fared much better afterwards, Eden acknowledged.
Men! If they all required perfection from their women, she was probably better off without them. And that definitely included Slade Benedict, she resolved.
Nevertheless, she found herself scanning the crowd for a broad-shouldered man, telling herself it was only to prove that he was a total stranger. To her mild chagrin, there was no sign of him.
There was another surprise in store for her at the check-in counter when she handed over her suitcase and received her boarding pass. ‘There must be some mistake,’ she said to the attendant. ‘According to this, I’ve been allocated a seat in first class.’
The man glanced at the pass and back to his computer screen, punching keys with deft fingers. ‘No mistake, Miss Lyle. Everything’s in order. Enjoy your flight.’
‘But...’
Behind her, the queue was lengthening and people stirred restively. A suitcase was dumped on to the check-point beside her, giving her little option but to move away from the counter, clutching the pass.
She should be pleased to have been moved up into first class. The fare was more than double what she’d paid for her excursion ticket and she’d been charged no more. All the same, uneasiness etched a frown into the alabaster skin of her forehead, drawing curious glances from the people who eddied around her.
There was also admiration in the looks. Her romantic, softly curving figure was set off to perfection in a new turquoise-spotted dress with matching white crop-topped jacket, a pert spotted hanky spilling from the breast pocket.
She had been reluctant to spend the money for the outfit but now felt relieved. At least she wouldn’t look out of place among the first-class passengers. That was it! The economy section must have been overbooked, forcing the airline to upgrade some of the passengers. It was probably this very outfit which had prompted them to choose her.
Relieved that she had solved the puzzle, she spun around, intending to return to the counter and thank the obliging clerk, only to cannon into a broad, masculine body.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she gasped as steely fingers clamped around her upper arms to steady her. ‘I wasn’t looking where I was going.’
‘As it happens, you’re just the woman I’m looking for.’
A gasp tore from her throat as she recognised the voice and looked up into a pair of all too familiar grey-green eyes. She was so close that she could see the tracery of yellow lines which went from the pupils to the outer edges of his irises like the spokes of a wheel. The effect was mesmerising.
The thought that she was the woman he was looking for left her momentarily speechless, until she realised he meant it in a business sense. Fool, she chided herself. Why else would a man like him want her? ‘Slade... I mean, Mr Benedict...’ she muttered when she finally summoned her voice.
‘Slade will do in the circumstances,’ he demurred.
In what circumstances? Had she left something vital undone at the office?
He still held her in a steadying grip, his long fingers firm around her arms. The heat travelled through her skin as if it had been touched by a branding iron. Without putting up an unseemly struggle she couldn’t twist free, so she willed herself to calmness. ‘I’m leaving in half an hour for the Sunshine Coast.’
‘I know.’
‘You do?’ As the words tumbled out she cursed her own stupidity. Of course he knew. He had approved her request for leave. She was annoyed by her own responses. He might be all-powerful over his employees but he had no right to detain her now, when her time was her own.
‘You said you were looking for me?’ she prompted, her tone cool to indicate that she didn’t welcome his intrusion.
He glanced at the boarding pass she still clutched in nerveless fingers. As if she hadn’t spoken, he nodded tautly. ‘You’ve checked in already? Good. Let’s go somewhere we can talk.’
Releasing her at last, he turned away as if fully expecting her to follow him. Her annoyance grew and she stood her ground. ‘Did I leave something unfinished at the office?’
The question caught him by surprise. ‘Not that I know of.’ But at least he stood still, regarding her with ill-concealed impatience.
‘Then why do we need to talk? If it’s about the promotion, I’ve already apologised for what I said.’
He looked puzzled, then annoyed. But he couldn’t have forgotten her foolish outburst after she learned that he had appointed a man from outside the company to fill the production vacancy.
She had been counting on the promotion to provide a much needed salary increase to give her mother a few extra luxuries. To have the job go to a man who didn’t even work for Benedict Communications had come as a bitter blow. She had said as much to her co-worker when the decision was announced.
‘Our male chauvinist boss strikes again,’ Denise, the researcher who worked with Eden, had responded as they helped themselves to coffee from the dispenser.
Spooning sugar into her cup, Eden had regarded Denise with disbelief. ‘You don’t think he overlooked me because I’m female?’
Denise shrugged. ‘What other reason can there be? You have all the necessary qualifications. You’ve filled in as an assistant producer when someone’s ill or on holiday, and you have the seniority. As far as I can tell, your only flaw is your sex.’
‘But that sort of discrimination is illegal.’
‘Tell that to our fearless leader. You’ll notice there’s a dearth of female talent in the top echelons of his empire.’
Eden sipped her coffee thoughtfully. ‘I hadn’t noticed, but you’re right.’
“Therefore, Slade Benedict is allergic to putting women into top jobs.’
‘He certainly isn’t allergic to women,’ Eden pointed out. In the social columns, Slade was regularly paired with some famous beauty or other.
‘Too true, but in the bedroom, not the boardroom.’
Denise’s irreverence was already making Eden feel better. ‘Slade Benedict prefers his women in the bedroom rather than the boardroom.’ She savoured the phrase. Since she couldn’t change her sex, it was less hurtful than being denied promotion because she wasn’t good enough.
‘It would be enlightening to know on what grounds you base your assessment,’ came a chilly voice close behind her.
Denise’s appalled expression told Eden not only that Slade was there, but that he had heard every word.
‘I—er—none, really,’ she dissembled.
She half turned to find him leaning against the wall with apparent indolence, his arms crossed over his broad chest. The seeming casualness of the pose was belied by the challenging fire which flashed in his grey eyes.
He was waiting for her to back her accusation of his sexism with facts, but she had none. Backing down wouldn’t help either, instinct told her. She had got herself into this so there was nothing for it but to brazen it out.
‘We were discussing the lack of females in the top ranks of the firm,’ she said, unconsciously straightening to her full five feet seven inches. It still left her a good four inches short of meeting