Rivals by Janet Dailey Page B

ends?
    His hands glided down the fur sleeves, following the bend of her arms to enfold her while his mouth brushed tantalizingly over her cheek and ear. But it was less his caresses she responded to than the stroking words he murmured.
    â€œHaven’t I shown you how it can be with us? Quiet dinners together. Intimate evenings with just the two of us. It will be so very wonderful, Flame, if you’ll just let it.”
    She wavered for the briefest of moments. “No,” she said, then more decisively: “No.”
    In one quick step she was free of his arms, and in two more, there was distance between them. Hurriedly she shed the coat, then turned and thrust it back at him, holding herself absolutely rigid so he wouldn’t discover how badly she was shaking inside.
    â€œThe fur is beautiful, Malcom, but I don’t care for the conditions that are attached to it.”
    â€œYou didn’t offer any objections to them a moment ago,” he reminded her, a confident gleam in his gray eyes.
    Unable to deny that, Flame ignored it. “We’ve been through this before.” When he failed to take the fur from her, she tossed it onto the back of a nearby chair. “I am not going to become your mistress,” she insisted stiffly. “I won’t be used like that.”
    â€œ You won’t be used.” Anger flared, hardening the grim set of his features. “Who the hell do you think you are? Without me, you’re nothing but another impoverished socialite with a lot of pride. Your job, your salary, your vice-presidency, your so-called career, I’m responsible for every bit of it!”
    She’d pushed him too far and she knew it. But there was no turning back—even if she wanted to. “I never asked you for any favors, Malcom.”
    â€œBut you were damned quick to accept them. I’ve bought and paid for you ten times over.”
    â€œWhen you wanted me to handle the Powell account, I made it clear that if you thought you were buying anything else, I wasn’t interested. I promised you that your account would have my absolute priority. And it has. I have jumped every time you’ve called. The only place I haven’t jumped has been into your bed—and I won’t!”
    His smile was anything but pleasant. “Even if it means losing the Powell account…and all the others I sent your way? I opened corporate doors for you, Flame, and I can close them just as fast—and make certain they stay closed to you.”
    â€œIs that an ultimatum, Malcom?” The thin thread that held her temper snapped. “Are you telling me that either I go to bed with you or you’ll destroy my career? Do you want me so badly you don’t care that I’d be hating you all the while you were making love to me? A hostile merger, is that what you want?”
    â€œNo, dammit, it isn’t!” He half swung from her, raking a hand through the silver-tipped mane of his hair.
    Flame stared at him, conscious of the rawness inside, and the trembling of hurt and anger. Abruptly she pivoted on her heel and walked stiffly to the high-backed chair in front of his desk. She retrieved her portfolio case from its sea cushion and started for the door. But Malcom was there waiting for her. She halted an arm’s length away.
    â€œI honestly don’t think you can complain about the job I’ve done for you, Malcom. Or the agency, either. If you think you’re entitled to more than that, then pull the account. Don’t hold that threat over my head.”
    â€œI never intended to,” he stated impatiently.
    â€œNo?” She smiled without humor. “It sounded remarkably like a power play to me.”
    In one stride, he closed the space between them and caught her arms. “Dammit, Flame, you’re not indifferent to me. You proved that when I held you in my arms.”
    â€œI’ve never denied that I enjoy being with you.