A Taste of Sin. Maggie Cox
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be right. Now calmer, she met the Frenchman’s gaze across the desk. ‘It’s true that Mr Houghton needs to make this sale, Mr Bonnaire—Gene—but, since you’ve just admitted that antiques don’t interest you in the slightest, and that you’re not interested in running the business and only want the building, I’m afraid I can’t agree to sell it to you. It just wouldn’t be right. I realise it’s not the decision you hoped for, but I’m sorry. I hope you understand?’
‘No. I do not understand. I have told you that it’s the building I’m interested in and I’m willing to pay what I know to be the going rate for the property...no question. How many interested buyers has your boss seen since he put the shop up for sale?’
Gene Bonnaire’s glare was steely.
‘In the current economic climate my guess is not many... Maybe I’m the only one? If I were you, Rose, I would take my offer on your employer’s behalf and congratulate yourself. Trust me...the only regret he would have is if you should be foolish enough to turn me down. Do you really want to put yourself in such an untenable position and lose the faith and trust he has obviously accorded you?’
As a helpless tide of defensive anger surged through her Rose set her eyes on the man she now considered to be not quite so charming. He might not be as heartless as she’d first thought—the story about the fake pearl and diamond ring his father had bought his mother demonstrated that he had the capacity to feel things deeply—but she knew that he was determined to secure the desirable Thames-side building at all costs. And he was plainly willing to risk Rose not liking him if he became too insistent.
‘I think you’ve said quite enough, Mr Bonnaire. I’ve given you my decision and you’re just going to have to accept it.’
‘Is that so? Do you imagine that any businessman or woman worth their salt who is determined to seal a deal should give up so easily merely because you tell them that they should?’
His tone was sardonic, and Gene’s glance swept over Rose as if she was a foolish little girl.
Swallowing down her fury that anybody could be so reprehensible, she stiffly folded her arms. ‘I wouldn’t dream of advising anyone what’s best for them, because I clearly don’t know. I’m not a businesswoman...I’m an antiques dealer. However, I do know my boss Philip, and how much this antiques business means to him. He’s impressed upon me more than once that he wants to sell it as a going concern, so I would be failing in my duty if I didn’t adhere to that. On his behalf, I thank you for your interest but our meeting is over. I’ll see you to the door.’
‘Not so fast.’
As he rose immediately to his feet it wasn’t hard for Rose to detect that Gene Bonnaire was more than a little thrown off balance by her refusal to sell. He was holding on to his temper by a thread.
The expensive cologne he wore again stirred the air, reminding her that the moneyed and elite world he inhabited was light years away from hers and that he hadn’t expected an argument. But on this occasion, Rose was determined to stand her ground...
‘Look, I didn’t come here to waste my time or yours,’ he went on. ‘I came here for one reason and one reason only: to purchase a listed building that I understood was up for sale. If you won’t sell the premises to me then perhaps you’d reconsider your decision if I agree to purchase the antiques as well? I don’t doubt some of them might be valuable to an ardent collector.’
The comment was hardly encouraging. He might just as well have referred to the collector as misguided rather than ardent. Rose didn’t have to guess how appalled Philip would be if he knew that Gene didn’t want to purchase the antiques for their beauty and historical significance, or even because he might be considering continuing the business after all, but only because he was thinking about their monetary worth.
‘Indeed, some of them are extremely valuable,’ she confirmed. ‘But unfortunately your remark illustrates to me exactly what you asserted earlier...you have no interest whatsoever in antiques. That being the case, I’m not inclined to consider your offer any further, Mr Bonnaire.’
Extracting a leather wallet from the inside pocket of the impeccably tailored jacket he wore, the businessman took out a card and threw it down onto the desk. The blue eyes that Rose had noted could be icy had turned even more glacial.
‘When you’ve had some time to think things over—meaning when you can make a far less emotional decision about the matter, Rose—I don’t doubt you’ll want to get in touch with me to discuss a sale. In the meantime, I’ll say au revoir.’
As he spoke Rose found herself yet again uncomfortably captured by his mocking glance, and she thanked her lucky stars that the man was going. Yet as her gaze followed him to the door in truth she didn’t know whether or not to be pleased she’d stood her ground—whether the decision she’d made was the right one or not...
* * *
Back in his Mayfair office, after the tedious round of meetings he’d chaired that afternoon, Gene asked his secretary to get him some coffee and sank down into his high-backed leather chair to mull over the day’s events. He didn’t think he had ever felt more irritable and out of sorts, and it was all down to his offer being refused on that damn property.
He’d admired the architecture of the Thames-side building for years, and had often thought it would make the most fantastic restaurant should he buy it. He didn’t envisage it as an addition to the more commercial restaurants he already owned, but saw it as the kind of exclusive place that the glitterati liked to frequent. Just like the two esteemed establishments he owned in New York and Paris.
Recalling his meeting with Rose Heathcote, Gene mused that it was beyond his understanding how she couldn’t see what a gold-edged opportunity to capitalise on his assets he had given her boss. Most people would have ripped his arm off to take it. But one thing had become eminently clear to him... Just as she had said, Rose was no businesswoman. Her attitude had really irked him. Especially when he’d seen that she wasn’t going to be easily influenced by any amount of charm he might utilise. Yet part of him admired the brunette for her determination to stand firm even though he knew she was wrong.
And there was something else about her that had caught his attention. She had the most startlingly beautiful violet eyes. Her glossy black hair and ivory-coloured skin made them even more captivating. The passion he’d seen in their mesmerising depths had intrigued him and made him want to get to know her, even though she’d denied him the chance to purchase the property. But, as was his modus operandi when faced with situations or outcomes he didn’t like, Gene knew he would immediately work to turn it to his advantage.
Yes...he would step right back into the breach and make his purchase of the building a foregone conclusion. He wouldn’t be satisfied until it was his. Rose could take a couple of days’ sober reflection on what a mistake she’d made in turning him down, then Gene would get back to her with an offer that he knew her boss simply couldn’t refuse.
If he could have some more time with her and assure her that he was respectful of the gracious building’s admirable history, had always admired it and only sought to elevate it by housing his restaurant there, he didn’t doubt he could persuade her to convince Philip Houghton that selling the building to one of the country’s richest entrepreneurs wasn’t just a good idea...it was the only one that would take it off his hands and make him enough money to see him right for the rest of his life.
But just then, somewhere deep inside him, Gene couldn’t help feeling disturbed that he’d so easily dismissed the other man’s welfare in the belief that money was the answer to his problems. Even his parents had counselled him on that once.
‘Son, you can’t always fix someone’s pain by throwing money at the problem. No amount of money or good fortune made it any easier for us to endure the devastation of your sister’s death. Don’t forget that.’
The memory jolted him, and for a few disturbing seconds he felt as if a grenade had been thrown into the room. But now