Slave to Love

t, or you’ll be out of my company. It’s as cut and dried as that!’

And that, she made thorough note, was the boss in him speaking. A boss who never said a word without meaning it.

The lift stopped, the doors sliding smoothly open, which was a good job because it gave her something to do with her frustration—she could stalk out into the hallway and storm along to her room.

He was right behind her. Of course he was right behind her! she acknowledged angrily. This was Solomon Maclaine, and nothing fazed him, not even the withering look she had sent him before she left the lift!

‘I told you...’ she began to protest when he was still right behind her as she opened her suite door.

‘And I told you,’ he countered, his hand at the base of her spine, propelling her into the room so that he could follow.

Literally seething with angry frustration, she rounded on him. ‘Just because you pay my wages, Mr Maclaine,’ she began furiously, ‘it doesn’t mean you can—’

He walked right past her, grim indifference to anything she might want to say scored into his arrogant face as he walked across the room then paused by the low coffee-table. ‘Where is the Franc Brunner file?’ he asked.

‘I— Locked away in my briefcase,’ she told him, momentarily stumped by his quick change from angry lover—ex-lover—to grimly focused businessman.

‘Get it,’ he commanded.

Frowning in confusion, she went to fetch it from the bedroom. ‘I thought you said you weren’t going to get involved with this deal,’ she said as she came back.

‘There were a few provisos attached to that statement, if I remember correctly,’ he mocked. ‘But,’ he then added grimly, ‘things have changed. And neither of us is getting involved with it.’

‘What do you mean?’ she asked as he reached for the file.

‘Quite simply what I said,’ he answered shortly. ‘Two can play at Franc Brunner’s little game. And from now on neither you nor I are available for talks, meetings or anything for the next few days.’

‘But I have a meeting all set up with Brunner tomorrow, and Karl is—’

‘Cancel,’ he said. ‘Cancel both. And don’t do it yourself,’ he added as an afterthought. ‘Get Reception to do it for you. I want no contact—none whatsoever—between you and Loring or Brunner.’

‘But—Karl is on our side, Mac,’ she reminded him confusedly. ‘Why play footsie with him?’

‘Karl Loring is certainly not on our side, Miss Chandler,’ he corrected quietly. ‘Karl Loring is on Karl Loring’s side. He’s in cahoots with Franc Brunner, probably on commission, so it’s in his best interests to get the most he can out of us before Brunner signs anything. Joel and Loring were friends in their college days. When Brunner began to set this deal up Joel contacted Loring to pick his brains over Brunner’s reputation. Loring saw instantly that he had a chance at getting in on this deal so he offered his services—to both men. His ultimate goal being to line his own pocket, of course.’

‘You mean,’ Roberta gasped in horror, ‘that Karl Loring has actually been using his friendship with Joel to squeeze as much out of him as he could?’

Mac nodded, his attention seemingly fixed on the stack of papers he was busily sifting through. ‘The first rule of survival in the world of big business, Roberta, is never to trust anyone, not even your friends. Joel knows that,’ he added grimly. ‘But he conveniently forgot that rule with Loring and deferred to his friendly advice right the way along the line.’

Feeling a bit as though she had just been knocked down by a steamroller, Roberta sank into the nearest chair, trying to work out how Mac had come by that conclusion when as far as she had seen there was nothing—nothing—to make him suspect such a thing!

‘I don’t see how you can possibly know all of this for sure,’ she murmured dazedly in the end.

‘Quite easily,’ Mac said. ‘Last night I went round to Joel’s flat to thump him again for trying to move in on you, and—’

‘Oh, you didn’t hit him again, did you?’ Roberta put in concernedly.

To her surprise, Mac smiled. ‘He was too damned drunk to punch,’ he told her ruefully.

‘Lou Sales,’ she remembered, and found herself smiling with him.

‘But while he was rambling on about you, me, him and a lot of other stuff I didn’t for one moment understand he also managed to show his concern for this deal,’ he explained. ‘And the mess he knew he was making of it.’

‘So, you’re here expressly to sort this all out for Joel?’ she demanded, beginning to feel the first rumbling of hard suspicion.

‘Of course,’ he answered smoothly.

‘Yet you’ve been refusing to help me sort it all out!’ she cried. Then another thought hit her, narrowing her eyes and making her hands clench angrily at her sides. ‘Why am I here, Mac?’ she demanded quietly.