Deceptive Love (7 page)

In fact, according to Mrs. Covey, little escaped Dain if he chose, be it women or business coups. Though yet short of thirty, he had put together a number of outstandingly complicated takeovers, divestations, and mergers, all of them shockingly profitable to RanCo. He had recently been in Europe on just such another major enterprise, and the staff and stockholders of RanCo confidently expected the latest to be no different from the previous in terms of success and profitability.

Keri didn't doubt it in the least. Latter-day pirate or modern version thereof, he'd be successful no matter what his occupation. He wore the arrogant, unmistakable look of power like a cloak—an inborn, integral part of a powerful personality.

Then Mrs. Covey switched from the public to the private life of Keri's daunting employer. In exhaustive detail she told Keri far more than she wanted to know about Dain Randolph the man, confirming with every word what Keri had feared since she had confronted him across the width of his desk that first day.

Like a rake in Regency days, Dain had adroitly evaded the marriage mart, choosing instead to play, when he played, among the sophisticated and worldly, most of whom played the game superbly and often. Mrs. Covey was acidic about Miss Barth's so obvious aspirations, assuring Keri that Mr. Randolph never looked among his employees for his, as she delicately termed it, liaisons.

Keri wasn't sure if Mrs. Covey meant this statement for warning or reassurance. She would like to be able to accept it as reassurance, but the hard, appraising eyes which had stripped away her camouflage so easily were anything but impersonal. She didn't know
why
he was so interested, but the fact remained that he
was!
Something had trig
gered his attention and now Dain Randolph was exhibiting more than common interest in an employee.

"Has Mr. Randolph any other family?" Keri questioned idly, when Mrs. Covey paused for breath.

"Hmph, yes. A sister six years younger," responded Mrs. Covey in portentous tones. "And a right bitch that one is. Mr. Randolph and his father have pulled her out of more scrapes than I care to think of. They've spoiled her rotten because her mother died when she was just a little girl and she's used to having the world laid out on a carpet for her. I hear she's recently gotten herself engaged, so now there'll be three men to indulge her. She hasn't been around much because Mr. Randolph's been away, but you can be sure we'll be seeing more of her, sweeping in, nodding graciously to the serfs, and snarling like a sand cat whenever things don't go her way. She's got claws, that one, and isn't choosy about whom she uses them on, except for Mr. Randolph, of course. She's honey sweet and purring with
him!"

And without losing a beat, Mrs. Covey looked shrewdly at Keri and said, "And what about you, my dear? When are you going to quit hiding behind those dowdy clothes and prim manner?"

It was too sudden a move for Keri to mask her reaction. Her mouth fell open with shock while Mrs. Covey chuckled quietly, well satisfied with her broadside. Keri looked at the dumpy little woman sitting opposite her and began to smile in her own turn. She laughed softly and ruefully.

"I've worked at RanCo three months with nary a raised eyebrow and now, in the space of two days, two people have seen through me. There must be clearer vision in the rarefied air of the executive suite," she finished dryly.

"Mr. Randolph being the other one with clear vision," Mrs. Covey stated without any fear of contradiction.

"Yes," Keri sighed. "I'm under orders to cease and desist, starting tonight at the reception." She grinned with just the slightest touch of mischief. "I was supposed to start this morning, but decided tonight would be a more appropriate time."

"Monday should be most interesting," averred Mrs. Covey, grimacing. "Elise Barth is in for an unpalatable shock. She's been Miss Glamor of the office for the past three years, for all the good it's done her, but she won't relish being supplanted."

"Are you so sure I'll . . . er . . . supplant her?" Keri asked curiously. "She's very attractive."

"Hmm, yes, attractive," Mrs. Covey agreed. "She makes the most of what she's got, I admit, but I expect that you don't even have to make anything of what you've got to bug out a few eyes. Why'd you do it, child?"

"Protective camouflage," Keri said shortly. "I got tired
j
of wearing out my tennis shoes being chased around the desk. I had the idea that it would be nice to keep my business and private lives separate and it worked like a charm for three whole months. Blast!" Keri pounded her fist softly on the table top in frustration.

She took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose absently, but didn't notice the widening of Mrs. Covey's eyes when she saw Keri without them for the first time. Keri had eaten off her lipstick and the natural rich coloration of her lips emphasized the lovely shape of her mouth. With the glasses removed, Mrs. Covey could, for the moment, understand Keri's high wear-out rate of tennis shoes. Elise Barth was definitely not going to be pleased!

The two women finished lunch in silence, gloomy on Keri's part, thoughtful on Mrs. Covey's. The older woman hid a shrewd brain and a dry sense of humor beneath her unprepossessing exterior. She liked Keri and wished her well, but not even the most optimistic of Pollyannas could foresee anything but storms ahead for the young woman. Elise Barth would make her life miserable if she could, out of spite and jealousy, and even though Dain Randolph had never dallied with a RanCo employee to Mrs. Covey's knowledge (and it was comprehensive ... she was
very
astute), she had a feeling that he just might make an exception in Keri's case.

He had so far displayed an unprecedented interest in obtaining her services as secretary, and Mrs. Covey didn't for one minute believe that it was because of Keri's facility in languages. And now, by Keri's own admission, he was going so far as to dictate to her about her appearance. Very interesting indeed!

Keri's afternoon was mercifully shortened because Dain brusquely ordered her to leave early so that she would have plenty of time to prepare for the evening ahead. The look he gave her as he issued this pronouncement was explicit. Keri and Dain both missed the hastily hidden smile on Mrs. Covey's face as she sat at her desk, an interested spectator to this charged confrontation between employer and employee. She smothered a chuckle at the glare of pure dislike that Keri shot at Dain's back as he left the office, but her "Knock 'em dead, Keri honey" was full of fellow feeling and Keri threw her a grateful smile as she left for the day.

Keri seriously considered Mrs. Covey's injunction as she drove home through the relatively uncrowded streets. She could, if she chose, knock 'em dead as Mrs. Covey said. She had a dress guaranteed to give every man within fifty feet of her galloping high blood pressure and she was very tempted to pull it out, but saner, second thoughts prevailed.

The last thing in the world she wanted to do was give Dain Randolph the "come hither" and the dress would be construed as nothing short of an open invitation to seduction by such a man. She'd better opt for cool elegance, and she had a dress for that occasion too. It was a severely plain Thai silk of a green-bronze that managed to enhance the depth of her eyes and the richness of her hair. The classic simplicity of its cut plus the figure beneath it did the rest, although the slit up the right leg which offered glimpses of an elegant stocking-sheathed leg to just above the knee as she walked, reminded the onlooker that she was a woman, mysterious and just that little bit provocative.

She lazed for a relaxing half hour in a high drift of scented bubbles, washed her hair, and set it. She ate a fairly substantial supper because, while there would be a more than adequate buffet table, it would be her job to circulate, not to nibble.

She considered the evening before her with extremely mixed feelings. Her sense of the ridiculous was stimulated by the stir she was going to cause among the men whom she had met at the conference. They just weren't going to be able to believe she was the same self-effacing secretary who had sat so primly in their midst. On the other hand, her sudden emergence into the limelight was going to make her the prey of some rather nasty speculations and, in all probability, to some unpleasant (to Keri) suggestions from some of the "gentlemen" of the conference. She

made a bet with herself as to which ones were the most likely.

Well, those she could handle. It wouldn't be the first time! It was the longer term problem of Dain Randolph that she wasn't sure she could handle. The combination of experienced sensual challenge and potently attractive masculinity that he projected was devastatingly dangerous. Oh, well, forewarned (thanks to Mrs. Covey and her own common sense) is forearmed, she hoped.

When she was dressed and ready to leave, the mirror that had reflected the prim secretary in the morning showed her a far different image. Her hair shone in burnished glory as long curls cascaded from a Psyche knot. Her only jewelry, except for her skillfully highlighted green eyes that glowed like emeralds in a frame of dark bronze lashes, were gold filigree flower earrings set into the lobes of her small flat ears and a matching ring on her right forefinger. Dark amber topazes were set into the hearts of the flowers.

The mandarin collar of her dress caressed the base of the slender neck that supported her head so proudly and the tantalizing V-neck was frogged shut just above the lush swell of her breasts. Demure, but promising hidden richness. No longer did her lipstick hide the contours of her mouth, and her skin, freed from the disguising powder, had regained its warm apricot bloom, soft and smooth.

The transformation was complete and incredible, and to the man who stood with hand raised to knock, just as she opened the door, breathtaking. Keri paused in surprise, unconsciously framed in the doorway, confronting this unexpected, and unwelcome, apparition. His hand dropped forgotten to his side and his eyes shone with an odd glitter.

"My God, now I understand," he muttered, shaken. "What man wouldn't?"

"I beg your pardon?" Keri inquired frostily.

"I was making mental apology to someone," was the obscure explanation.

The appearance of her boss, clad in the severe black and white of evening dress, on her threshold was not calculated to calm Keri, and his cryptic words seemed all of a piece with his incomprehensible behavior. She was, however, afraid she knew what his next words were going to be, and she was right.

"I'll take you to the reception," he informed her, prepared to override and totally ignore her expected protest.

"But I. . ." Keri began to expostulate when the phone cut demandingly across her words.

It was a bad replay of the time Schyler had appeared at her door, she thought with exasperation as she watched Dain consolidate his position inside, much as Schyler had several nights before. She wasn't surprised either to discover that this time it was Schyler on the other end of the phone. Who else? She sighed in deepest exasperation.

"Hello, Schyler ... No,. Schyler, you cannot come over
....
Because I won't
be
here starting about sixty seconds from now!" She banged down the phone sharply.

"Lover's tiff?" Dain drawled.

"No!" Keri snapped, up to her ears with men in general and Schyler in particular, and certainly in no mood for complicated explanations to a man whose business it wasn't anyway. In more moderate tones she continued. "I don't suppose it will do me any good to say that I'd prefer to take my own car?"

He shook his head just once and she picked up her purse from where she had laid it down to answer the phone, prepared to precede him from the apartment with no good grace. He tested the door to be sure it had locked firmly behind them, followed her to the elevator, and leaned around her to punch the summoning button. Without moving an inch, she seemed to compress slightly to avoid the slightest physical contact with him. His mouth took on an ominous tightness and when the elevator door opened at their floor, he grasped her elbow firmly to usher her inside.

She stood stiffly and quietly by his side during the short descent, too wise to make an issue by pulling away from him, but sharply conscious of the hard strength of his fingers and the warmth of his palm as it lay against the inside of her elbow. Even through the fabric of her sleeve the heat of his body reached out to hers and she was starkly aware again of his personal, potent masculinity.

He was driving a steel blue Mercedes tonight and the rich smell of leather enfolded her as she sank into the soft seat. He drove as he did most things, with a competent arrogance, showing a nicety of judgment and control which would have done credit to a Le Mans competitor. Some strong emotion roiled him—she could tell by the stiff set of his shoulders and the jut of his chin—but it didn't affect the smoothness of his reflexes. With a faint flicker of humor she decided that he wasn't used to anything less than enthusiastic acceptance of offers of his company and he wasn't finding the sensation pleasant or salubrious.

Perversely, the knowledge that she had annoyed him made Keri much more cheerful. She even leaned back against the seat and admired the burled wood fittings of the dashboard. It really was a very nice car. She ran a questing finger over the leather upholstery of the side panel nearest her and watched the lights of the city flow past outside the car window. A small, wholly feminine smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and was duly noted by the man who wasn't looking at her, but nonetheless knew every move she made and every shade of expression which flitted across her face.