Dangerous Temptation. Anne Mather
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desk from Matthew and regarding him with cool blue eyes. He hooked his heel across his knees. “I thought you’d like to know.”
Matthew kept his temper with an effort. But he couldn’t suppress the indignant flutter in his chest. God, was his wife right? Had he made another foolish error? Marshall appeared to hate him as much as he admired him; he certainly showed him no respect.
“Didn’t she want to speak to me?” he demanded, his tone just short of an accusation. “You knew I wanted to talk to her if she called.”
Marshall shrugged. He was a man of middle height, stocky but muscular, and Matthew knew he worked out several times a week. He had short brown hair and he wore wire-rimmed spectacles, but his appearance was deceptive. He was as strong as an ox and just as stubborn when he chose. Like Caitlin …
“She wouldn’t wait,” Marshall said carelessly, flicking a speck of lint from his sleeve. He hesitated, and then added reluctantly, “I got the impression she was—nervous. I guess finding your husband doesn’t know you is quite a strain.”
“If he doesn’t,” muttered Matthew sceptically, tapping a pen somewhat agitatedly against his blotter. “What do you think? Is he lying, or has he really lost it? How the hell are we going to handle it if it’s true?”
Marshall’s face was annoyingly blank. “You’re talking about the discrepancies in the South American contract.”
“Well, I’m not bloody interested in his health, if you’re in any doubt.” Matthew scowled. “How in God’s name did we let him get away with it? Does nobody do their jobs around here but me?”
Marshall’s expression hardened. “It was you who insisted on keeping him on,” he pointed out evenly.
“Only because it would have been a damn sight more dangerous to let him go,” snarled his employer harshly. “Besides, I didn’t think he’d be reckless enough to attempt to defraud the company again. After bringing us to the brink of bankruptcy the last time, I thought he’d have learned more sense. Christ, the man’s a complete shit, and I want him out!”
“So you weren’t thinking of Caitlin’s feelings, then?” Marshall was sardonic, and Matthew gave him a brooding look.
“That, too,” he said defensively. “Hell, she’s married to him, isn’t she? How could I tell her what a bastard he was? Credit me with some feelings, Marshall. I’m not totally without discrimination.”
“But you’ve changed your mind now.”
“Situations alter cases,” said Matthew pedantically. He shook his head. “We have to think of the company. God, if this present fiasco were made public, I can just imagine what that would do for our shares.”
Marshall considered. “Well, I don’t think there’s anything we can do until he’s back in England. Then you can have your own physician check him over without causing too much fuss. But—” he paused “—if it’s true, it’s going to be difficult to prove his guilt. You can’t accuse a man who doesn’t remember what you’re accusing him of.”
Matthew flung the pen across the desk in frustration. “The truth is, it’s going to be hard to prove whatever the prognosis. If he’s fooled the doctors in the States, why shouldn’t he fool them here? And how am I going to tell Caitlin her husband’s a criminal? Thank God there aren’t any children to complicate things even more.”
Marshall’s lip curled. “Thank God,” he echoed harshly, and Matthew gave him a remorseful stare.
“You’re a lot of help, I must say,” he muttered. “And don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. I’ve made mistakes in my time, I admit it. But dammit all, Nathan was the worst.”
Marshall sighed as if expelling his impatience on the breath, and then drew his brows together. “Well—there’s always the chance that his condition will be temporary. If he has lost his memory, it may be he’ll recover it when he gets home. Familiar things, familiar places, familiar people. I’ve heard there are no hard-and-fast rules where amnesia is concerned.”
“Which doesn’t do a lot for us,” declared Matthew wearily, lines of strain appearing beside his mouth. “Whatever happens, it’s going to be weeks, maybe even months, before we can nail him. Which means I’m going to have to make good the damage myself.”
Marshall’s brows elevated. “There is the woman—Lisa Abbott. She may know something about it. I could go and see her.”
“And warn him that we’re onto him? Not likely.” Matthew shook his head. “No, for the moment, our hands are tied. I just hope he hasn’t spent all the money. Half a million, Marshall! God, I can’t believe he had the brains to do it. He must have the luck of the devil!”
“I wouldn’t call being involved in a major air disaster particularly lucky,” observed Marshall sardonically. “And if he has really forgotten everything, I’d guess he’s feeling pretty low. Okay, you want your money back, but spare the man some pity. No name, no identity, no nothing! I’ll be interested to see how he handles it. It can’t be easy.”
“Hmm.”
Matthew was noncommittal. Right at the moment, he couldn’t find it in his heart to feel any compassion for Nathan at all. For all he knew, there might be other scams not yet discovered. For a man as unscrupulous as his son-in-law, there were always loopholes he could breach.
“Think about Caitlin,” said Marshall now, aware of the other man’s brooding countenance. “And you’re not going to do yourself any favours if you can’t put this out of your mind. I’ve told you, when he’s recovered I’ll handle it. Think of your daughter and what this might do to her.”
“I’m not without sensitivity as far as my daughter’s feelings are concerned,” retorted Matthew defensively. “I know you think I’m totally selfish, but it isn’t true.” He met the younger man’s accusing eyes and dropped his gaze abruptly. “All right. I’ll do as you say. That’s what I employed you for after all. You don’t have to keep reminding me you’d rather not be here.”
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