Maggie Cox – The Wealthy Man's Waitress (страница 2)

‘He sold his car and his motorbike to raise some capital, and they were both his pride and joy, but it’s still not enough for him to start up in Cornwall. He’ll also need to pay rent on a place as well as buy food. It’s going to take a while before the business takes off, but you mark my words, Mr Redfield, it will! Have you any idea how talented your son is?’

‘I know exactly what kind of talents my son is endowed with, Miss…?’

‘Robards.’

‘Miss Robards. But somehow I don’t think they’re the same ones that you’re so keen to endorse. And, for what it’s worth, setting up a pottery in an already overcrowded market in the middle of St Ives is not my idea of a viable venture. If you want my opinion, and I’m sure you don’t…’ The piercing blue eyes frosted over as they swept over her flushed features, causing Emma to bite apprehensively down on her lip. ‘…it’s just another excuse for Lawrence to swan around abdicating all responsibility for his own welfare at my expense. I’ve given him money more times than I care to mention to finance any number of madcap schemes, and he squandered his mother’s legacy in less than a year. I’m afraid as far as I’m concerned he’s more than had his quota of help from me. Shame you had a wasted journey, Miss Robards.’ And with that Piers walked around his desk and picked up the phone.

Emma could hardly believe he was dismissing her so easily, so coldly, and without consideration. It was his son she’d come to talk about, not some stranger who wasn’t anything to do with him! She’d never had a man cry in her arms before, but last night Lawrence had. He’d broken down and poured out all his heartbreak—his lonely, unloved childhood, the death of his poor unhappy mother, driven to numerous affairs during her marriage to Piers because of his addiction to work and making money, and his father’s coldness to him whenever he asked for his help. No wonder he hadn’t got into university, he’d told her with wounded eyes. No wonder he’d drifted ever since. He was a lost soul and Emma was only too glad to help him in whatever way she could. She might have started out as just the girl who occupied the flat downstairs, but they’d quickly become friends and she’d often fed him when he’d run out of money for food and his cupboards were bare. The least his cold, imperious father could do was hear her out on his behalf!

‘Mr Redfield.’ Piers glanced up in surprise as Emma crossed the room to the edge of his desk and laid her hand across his where it rested on the receiver. Her skin was exquisitely soft, like the dewy petals of a rose, and he had to curb his surprise at the effect it had on him. A sensual little charge of electricity ran up his arm at her touch and created a nicely warm heat haze in his groin. Time seemed to stand still as all Piers’s senses were drowned in the sheer eroticism of the moment. Then, giving himself a mental shake, he moved his gaze to her face and was gratified to see her blush, amused when she quickly withdrew her hand as if he might have something contagious. Was she for real? That becoming colour flooding her cheeks certainly couldn’t be faked. He might not admire Lawrence for much, but he could certainly admire his taste in this particular woman. She was too young, of course—twenty-three or -four at most—but she had gumption: that much was clear, or else she wouldn’t have risked arriving unannounced in his office to plead her case for his good-for-nothing son. And the way that cerise jacket fitted across that sexy little black stretch top of hers… Well, those delicious curves could keep a man distracted better than the latest Ferrari out of the showroom. Piers withdrew his hand to his trouser pocket, his nostrils flaring slightly as he breathed in deeply to contain his sudden lust.

‘Was there something else, Miss Robards?’

‘Don’t give up on your son. He already feels rejected by you. He needs your help, not your condemnation. He told me to tell you he absolutely promises that this will be the very last time he asks for your help. Can’t you just meet up with him for half an hour and hear him out?’

‘And what’s in it for you, Miss Robards?’

‘What do you mean?’ Her softly defined brows drew together as she frowned, and her perfume seemed to envelop Piers enticingly as she blushed again. He absorbed the sensation for a long moment as he watched her, registering its impact deep in his belly, deciding he liked the effect it had on him far too much.

‘I mean, how does it benefit you if I help Lawrence? Are you looking for an easy life down in the West Country as well?’

He thought… He thought she was pulling some kind of scam to get hold of his money! Emma blanched at the very idea. There wasn’t a dishonest bone in her body, and she’d always gone out of her way to help others less fortunate than herself. And this man…this…this arrogant despot was suggesting that the only reason she was helping Lawrence was to somehow secure herself an easy life in Cornwall! Her hand itched to slap that conceited smirk right off his too handsome face, but she’d already risked enough trouble without being hauled off for assault as well. Instead she curled it into a fist by her side and told herself to take a deep breath before retaliating.

‘I should have known to expect such a low blow from a man such as you,’ she said passionately. ‘For your information, Mr Redfield, I only came here because Lawrence asked me and I happen to believe in what he wants to do. Personally I’m totally unimpressed by your wealth and wouldn’t ask you for a penny if my life depended on it, but Lawrence is a different matter. We’re not all cut out to run multimillion-pound corporations, you know. Some of us are struggling with deeper issues that sometimes make it hard for us to find our feet.’

What deeper issues was she struggling with? Piers mused fleetingly before dismissing the thought as irrelevant.

‘Are you sleeping with him?’

‘What?’ Emma stared at him as if he’d just accused her of embezzling all the corporation’s funds.

‘Let me make it clearer.’ Folding his arms across an impressively wide chest clad in an expensive suit with no doubt impeccable credentials, Piers let his gaze linger for a moment on the fulsome shape of her breasts, lovingly outlined by the black clingy top beneath her jacket. The coming board meeting really wasn’t the most pressing thing on his mind right now. ‘Are you having sex with my son?’

‘How dare you? That’s none of your damn business!’ Emma was hardly going to tell him that Lawrence had tried to lure her into bed several times since they’d met but, although she was attracted to him, she wasn’t ready to make that particular leap of faith just yet. For now she was just happy to think of him as a very good friend.

Besides…he had enough girls parading in and out of his flat, as far as she could see. Like father, like son? According to Lawrence, Piers’s love of beautiful women had earned him a reputation as a bit of a playboy. Very aware of that fact, Emma wished her heart wouldn’t beat so wildly when he narrowed his penetrating gaze at her as if he was imagining what she looked like without her clothes.

‘You must be. Why else would you be championing his cause? Don’t be so gullible, Miss Robards. He’s only using you, you know. And you wouldn’t be the first misguided fool to fall for his dubious charm either.’ Sighing, Piers rubbed at his forehead as if a headache had started and Emma was the cause. Then, before she could retaliate, he smiled a slow, knowing little smile that caused a shocking wave of heat to pulsate throughout Emma’s body as if she’d suddenly been locked inside a steam room. ‘Are you my reward for meeting my son’s demands?’

‘What?’ For a crazy instant, Emma told herself she’d imagined the innuendo in his question. She simply couldn’t believe that a rich, powerful individual like Piers Redfield would deign to make a pass at an ordinary girl like her. But then as reality set in, so did anger. Waves of it. ‘I can’t believe you’re insinuating such a foul thing! Lawrence told me your opinion of him was low, but how low I didn’t begin to guess. How dare you suggest for even a second that your own son would do such a thing? And even worse—that I…that I would comply with it!’

Piers’s glance was unflinchingly direct. ‘Then you clearly do not know Lawrence as well as you think you do, Miss Robards. As I said before, he’s probably only using you. The sooner you realise it, the better.’

‘He’s not using me!’ she insisted. ‘We’re good friends. I’d trust Lawrence with my life!’

‘Oh, really?’ Piers’s tone was deliberately scathing. ‘Then don’t put such a cheap price on it, is my advice to you.’

Emma’s slender shoulders sagged dejectedly. It had been a complete waste of time coming to see him. He clearly had no intention and, more to the point, no interest whatsoever in helping his only son. She only hoped he wouldn’t have cause to regret it if Lawrence went and did something rash. Was Piers aware that his offspring suffered with chronic depression? Well, now wasn’t the time to illuminate him. He looked eager for her to be gone so he could go and chair his obviously far more important board meeting, and frankly Emma didn’t feel like subjugating herself to any more far too intimate questions about her love life…or lack of it.