The Blackmail Pregnancy

‘She’s dead.’

Cara felt a faint glimmer of satisfaction at his reaction. Her simple statement had jerked him upright in his chair.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I hadn’t heard.’

She shrugged her slim shoulders dismissively.

‘It was a very private funeral.’ Her voice was flat and unemotional. ‘My mother had few friends.’

‘How long ago?’

‘Three years,’ she said. ‘It was very…quick.’

‘Cancer?’

‘No.’ She met his dark gaze briefly. ‘Complications after simple surgery.’

‘It must have been a terrible shock for you.’

Cara rolled her lips and lamented the absence of lipstick. Ironic, really, that the absence of lipstick was more important to her than the demise of her mother.

‘One moves on,’ she said dispassionately.

‘One does,’ he replied, watching her steadily.

‘So.’ She swivelled her chair so that she was on a level with his dark eyes. ‘Let’s get down to business. Trevor said the property is in Cremorne. Does it have a harbour view, or is it—?’

‘I’ll take you there this afternoon,’ he interjected.

‘I can make my own way there,’ she put in hastily.

‘As you wish.’

Cara bit her lip. This was all wrong. She didn’t feel at all like a person who laid down colour sheets and furniture brochures for the client’s appraisal. She felt inadequate and on edge, as if the floor beneath her was going to be ripped out from under her.

‘I need to go over colour schemes,’ she said. ‘I need to get some idea of layout, and—’

‘I’ve got the plans here.’ He reached towards a black shiny briefcase on one end of the large desk. He handed a sheaf of papers to her. ‘All the specifications are there.’

She glanced down at the papers in her hands.

‘What’s the date of completion?’ she asked.

‘October first.’

‘That’s not a lot of time.’

‘A month,’ he said. ‘Long enough.’

She lifted her eyes to his.

‘Most furniture manufacturers require at least six to eight weeks’ notification—fabric availability and so on.’

‘So choose ones that only take a month,’ he suggested.

‘But—’

‘Do it,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you of all people can pull a few strings to bring it about.’

Cara swallowed her answering retort and instead focused on the plans on her lap. The intricate architectural drawings blurred in front of her; it was like trying to read an ancient script with no prior knowledge of the language. She felt her nerves tightening in the back of her neck as she struggled to make sense of what was usually second nature to her. How swiftly he had unsettled her! She’d gone from a professional, highly skilled interior designer to a jittery mess in the space of a few minutes.

‘I’ll need some time to think about this,’ she said, after another heavy silence. As she lifted her head she felt the clash of his dark gaze on hers.

‘How much time?’

‘A day or two—maybe three,’ she answered, recalling her interminable wait for him in Reception.

He seemed to give her response some thought.

‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘You have three days. I’ll meet you at your office at twelve noon on Friday, but I want no further delays.’

‘What exactly is the hurry on this?’ she asked. ‘You surely know enough about the business to realise a good job takes time?’

He tossed aside the pen he’d been clicking.

‘I wish to move into the house as soon as possible. As it is, I’ve been at a hotel for three weeks and I’m getting a little impatient with all the stalling.’

‘This is your house?’ She looked at him in shock. ‘You’re going to live there?’

He nodded.

‘But…but you live in Melbourne,’ she said in rising panic. ‘What about your family? And your business?’

‘I decided it was time for a change.’

She took one deep swallow, hoping he couldn’t see the way his words had unsettled her.

‘The telephone directory is full of interior designers crying out for work,’ she said, disguising her inner turmoil with an even tone. ‘Why me?’

‘Why not you?’

‘Because there are so many more talented designers than me, that’s why.’

‘But I want you.’

Four simple words, but somehow she sensed a double meaning in them. She sat on the edge of her seat, her hands clamped down on her knees to keep them from trembling in reaction.

‘I’m flattered, of course,’ she said without sincerity.