The Heat Of Passion

‘You haven't met my eyes once since you entered this room.'

Involuntarily, she clashed with glittering gold alive with impatience above a set jawline. Evidently she was not delivering the required responses.

'This won't work if you can't do better than this,’ he

said drily, unfeelingly.

'Don't threaten me...' she warned tautly, great violet eyes nailed to his hard dark features. ‘I function even less efficiently under threat. Now... can we talk about

my father?'

‘I prefer to eat to the accompaniment of light

conversation.'

Her gaze damned him to hell and back. She dug into the pate with sudden appetite. She worked through the next two courses without speaking unless forced. If anyone lost their appetite it was Carlo, finally thrusting his plate away with an

imprecation and tossing aside his napkin as he rose from the table. 'You sulk like a little girl.'

'I am not sulking, Carlo.' Jessica embarked slowly on her dessert, it having long since occurred to her that the longer she spent eating, the longer she stayed out of the bedroom. 'You wanted me here. I came. You wanted me

to eat. I am eating.'

'I won't prosecute your father.' The statement was

coolly unemotional.

'He can't pay back the money ‘

'He must,' Carlo's tough jawline set hard. "The money

must be returned.'

'How?' she demanded bitterly. 'He has no job and he's not likely to get another one. And even if he sells everything he has, he will still owe you money.’ 'I will give him another position, then.' Startled by that most unexpectedly generous offer, she stared at him. 'Where?'

'Not here. He needs a fresh start for this second chance. Leave it with me,’ he drawled. 'I will find him something.'

'And the money?' she prompted.

'He repays,' Carlo repeated grimly. 'If he is as sorry and as ashamed as you protest, he will want to repay it. He will not wish to be further in my debt.'

'But ?'

'In addition,' Carlo cut across her interruption drily,

'the offer of continuing employment will be conditional

on his agreement to seek help for his addiction f

'He's not addicted!' Jessica jumped to her father's defence.

'Any man capable of gambling so far above his own income is an addict. He requires therapy to ensure he can withstand future temptation. Now, are you satisfied?' he demanded shortly, dismissively, making her suspect that he had conceded more than he had planned to concede.

Yet Jessica had hoped for more. She had wanted the debt wiped out as she had promised Dr Guthrie. Whether it was unreasonable or not, she wanted every practical cause of stress removed from her father's path. 'You're getting me pretty cheap, aren't you?' she said shakily and then, the instant she saw the dark fury leap into his set features, she wished she had bitten her tongue and stayed silent.

'You want to go on the payroll for three months for sharing my bed?' Carlo threw back at her with a flash of even white teeth. 'A contract maybe, complete with severance pay and an assurance that you retain any jewellery or clothes that I buy you? OK, that is fine by me.' He moved an expressive brown hand in a gesture I that made it very clear that it was anything but fine with him. 'I have heard of such contracts in America. But do

l me now up-front, what price do you put on that