Brand of Possession

She shrugged. ‘It doesn’t bother me, I’m glad of the company, actually.’

‘It’s a bit restricting, though, isn’t it?’ he said thoughtfully.

Stacy frowned. ‘In what way?’

‘Well …’ he gave a suggestive smile.

She blushed as she realised what he meant. ‘We don’t have any of those problems,’ she told him stiffly.

‘Oh, I see,’ he nodded. ‘You’ve worked out an arrangement.’

‘Certainly not,’ she said crossly, aware that Jake was watching her curiously, although Martin Payne was doing his best to hold his attention. ‘It hasn’t been necessary.’

His fingers ran caressingly down her bare arm. ‘We’ll have to see if we can change that.’

Stacy felt some of her old distrust of this man coming to the fore. What if his behaviour earlier had all been an act just to get her to go out with him? She looked at him sharply. After all, he was an accomplished actor, and he certainly hadn’t been acting like a man anxious to escape his public when they came in here. She knew with a certainty that she had been tricked for the second time that day.

She picked up her handbag. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’m feeling rather tired.’

Paul also stood up. ‘I’ll come with you.’

‘There’s no need,’ she told him abruptly. ‘I don’t want to spoil your evening.’

His eyes were caressing. ‘You won’t be doing that. I insist, Stacy,’ he said as she went to protest again. ‘I’d much rather come with you than stay here.’

‘Oh, all right,’ she muttered ungraciously. ‘Excuse me,’ she said to the other two men, evading Jake’s searching gaze as he sought to catch her attention.

Paul grinned at the two seated men. ‘See you tomorrow.’

Stacy held herself rigid as Paul Forbes refused to have his hold on her arm dislodged, finally moving away from him as they entered the lift together. It was only when the lift sailed straight past her floor that she began to panic in earnest. Jake had taken no for an answer, but this man was out to make a conquest, willing or unwilling.

‘You’ve gone past my floor,’ she told him calmly, not wanting to let him see just how panic-stricken she really was.

‘I thought we could go to my suite and have a nightcap.’

‘We could have done that in the bar downstairs.’

He shook his head. ‘Not with all those people about. Besides, I was getting a little tired of Weston ogling you.’

She gasped. ‘He wasn’t ogling me!’

‘Oh yes, he was. I don’t know why you changed your mind about liking him, but I’m glad you did.’

‘I didn’t change my mind,’ she protested.

‘You must have done.’ He stood back for her to precede him out of the lift. ‘It’s a sure fact that he still wants you.’

Stacy coloured brilliant red. ‘I don’t really want to talk about Mr Weston.’

‘Neither do I.’ Paul unlocked his door and Stacy found herself in a suite very like the one Jake had. Paul closed the door softly behind her. ‘I’d much rather talk about you and me.’

‘Y-you and me?’ she repeated stupidly, wondering how on earth she had allowed herself to be brought up here. She had been so busy protesting about Jake that she had got herself into an even worse situation. ‘There isn’t any you and me to talk about.’

He poured out two glasses of whisky, adding ice to hers before handing her the glass, his blue eyes intent on her flushed face. ‘Maybe not, but I’m working on it. Here,’ he pushed the glass towards her as she made no move to take it.

She shook her head, wishing there were more lighting in the room than the two side-lamps he had put on at their entrance. ‘I don’t like whisky.’

He shrugged. ‘Something else, then? Bacardi, brandy, gin, vodka?’