The Beautiful Widow. HELEN BROOKS
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so he’d thought—lawyer, had suddenly decided she wanted to move in with him.
Barbara flashed on the screen of his mind: sultry, voluptuous—the sort of attorney who could have the opposition admitting anything with one look from her feline eyes. Their parting had been less than harmonious. That had been a couple of weeks ago, and although he missed her enticing and provocative body in his bed he had no doubts he’d done the right thing in ending their relationship.
His hand touched the back of his neck briefly as he recalled the resounding slap she’d delivered. It had all but cracked the bones in his neck as his head had jerked back with the force of it, and this from the woman who had insisted forever was a dirty word when they’d first got together.
Women … His firm, sensual mouth tightened for a moment. They were another species. Not that he’d given up on them; what red-blooded man would? And nine times out of ten it worked out fine. When the end of the relationship came there were no tears, no scenes, no recriminations. He was still friends with the majority of his exes; that had to say something.
It wasn’t as if he was ever less than completely honest. He made it a rule to be clear about his intentions from the first date. No promises, no roses round the door, just two healthy human beings sharing their lives and beds for a while. Straightforward and simple. Just the way he liked it.
The traffic was a nightmare. It took him nearly an hour to reach the hospital. When he pulled into the car park he found his heart was thudding with anxiety and his stomach was turning over with fear of what he might find inside. It was further proof—if he’d needed any—that he didn’t want anyone else other than Annie to have a piece of his heart.
Steel straightened his shoulders, reached for the enormous bouquet of yellow roses and white freesias he’d picked up en route and got out of the car.
Her hands were shaking, not something that was likely to inspire confidence in a prospective employer. And from what she knew of Steel Landry he would expect a cool, composed and completely professional approach.
Toni willed the tremors to cease as she tried breathing slowly and deeply. She’d read somewhere that worked for nerves.
It didn’t. All it did do was to make her feel slightly light-headed and now she was ten times more panic-stricken. What if she fainted at Steel Landry’s feet?
Rising from the edge of the sofa she was perched on, Toni walked across to the large bay window and stared down into the busy London street three stories below. The excellent double glazing meant traffic noise was reduced to a mere whisper, and although the pavements were crowded no sound from the people below penetrated her luxurious surroundings. And they were luxurious …
Turning, she surveyed the fabulous room Steel Landry’s ‘daily'—as the small bustling woman who had answered the door had described herself—had shown her into when she had arrived at the impressive South Kensington flat ten minutes ago. The cream and dove-grey sitting room was all soft leather sofas, glass tables and light maple wood. Several bowls of fresh flowers scented the air and a beautiful cream marble fireplace with floor-to-ceiling glass bookshelves in the alcoves either side provided the focus of the room.
Luxurious, stunning and clearly meant to impress any visitors, but a little … cold for her liking, Toni decided. It was as though the person living here had no intention of giving anything of himself away. Which would fit the little she knew of Steel Landry to a T.
She didn’t have time to reflect further. The door opened and a tall, dark-haired man strode into the room. ‘Sorry to have kept you waiting; an urgent call I had to take which couldn’t wait. Steel Landry, and you must be Toni George? Sit down, won’t you? Maggie’s bringing us coffee in a moment or two,’ he added, shaking her hand.
Toni was glad to sink down on one of the sofas. James had described Steel as a handsome so-and-so, and he hadn’t been wrong. The dark, rugged good looks were certainly attractive but it was his piercing silver-blue eyes that had thrown her. His lashes were thick and black and framed the metallic orbs dramatically, emphasising the silvery hue to his blue eyes perfectly. Many a model would have paid a fortune to have eyes like his, she thought inconsequentially. It didn’t seem fair nature had wasted them on a man.
Before she could voice the polite ‘It’s nice to meet you’ social opening appropriate for such occasions, he further threw her when he said, ‘May I take your coat?’
This necessitated her standing up again and as he helped her off with the coat she caught a faint whiff of his aftershave, a subtle blend that held warm, woody notes and a hint of citrus fruits. She shivered involuntarily, glad he had turned away to lay her coat over the back of one of the sofas so he didn’t notice. Toni was tall at five feet ten, but he had towered over her by another six or seven inches and she had found it disconcerting. She found him disconcerting.
Nevertheless, by the time he had sat down opposite her she was outwardly composed, her voice calm and smooth when she said, ‘Thank you for seeing me today, Mr Landry. I know how busy you are. I hope your sister is feeling better.’
He frowned. It clearly hadn’t been the best thing to say.
‘She’s pregnant and things aren’t going too well,’ he said briefly, the tone of his voice ending further comment.
Toni knew her cheeks had turned pink but there was nothing she could do about it. Gamely, she struggled on. ‘I’ve brought my portfolio for you to look at with a list of past clients who would be only too pleased to give me a reference should you require it. I—’
The cutting motion of his hand stopped her in mid-flow. Leaning forward, he fixed her with his eyes. ‘I’ve already made my own enquiries before I agreed to this interview. James is the best architect I know but he’d be the first to admit he’s no interior designer. When he mentioned you in passing for this job he said very little beyond you were a damn good designer and you’d worked for his practice for six years before leaving to start a family just over four years ago. Is that correct?’
‘I—Yes. Yes, that’s correct.’
‘And now you want to get back into the workplace and take up your career?’
‘Yes.’ Toni felt as though she were a prisoner being interrogated. On the rack.
‘Why?’ Steel Landry asked coolly.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Why do you want to return to work? Was it always part of the plan after a specific amount of time or are you bored or are there financial implications? And are you sure you’ve done having babies?’
She couldn’t believe this. It wasn’t so much what he said as the way he said it, but that last bit about having babies had been downright aggressive. Or it felt like that anyway.
Toni’s deep brown eyes took on the consistency of polished onyx. Her small chin rose sharply. ‘Quite sure, Mr Landry,’ she said crisply. ‘And my reasons for resuming my career are my own business.’
‘Wrong.’ The silver gaze held hers and his voice was lazy and without heat. ‘I’m sure James explained I’m looking to diversify from what has hitherto been a property business encapsulating office blocks, shops, warehouses, that type of thing? This latest venture is a conversion of an old factory into several apartments for the very rich, and I mean very rich. They’ll expect nothing less than the best from the smallest, most functional item in their home to the biggest. Space-age technology but without losing the cosy feel-good factor. I could have employed any number of excellent interior designers but a chance conversation with James raised your name. This first project is merely a stepping stone. I want the right folk on side from the beginning, people who are in it for the long haul.’
Toni nodded. What James had actually said was that Steel Landry got bored easily, and his business, which had begun with the purchase of the odd property or two, had swiftly grown into a vast network of prime real estate that had made him too successful. She’d laughed, asking how anyone could be too successful, and he’d told her